A/N: Once again, the reviews have made my day, after day, after day. I will try to respond to them, possibly not all, but please don't feel offended if I don't. My time on the net is limited since we have dial up which interferes with the phones, and are awaiting several important calls (though I'm reaching the point where I no longer care. It's taking too long.) And, no, we don't have cell phones.
I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Rodney POV, which is always interesting.
9
Rodney hated cosmic jokes as much as the next guy, and this one had his brain trying to implode in on itself. The astronomical probability, the billion to one chances, the simple cold logic were all ludicrous. Rodney had thought he'd witness impossibilities to make him believe in the impossible. Apparently, he still wasn't conditioned to it, because the impossible was knocking him upside the head over and over again, keeping his mind from forming coherent thought and explaining what he was seeing.
John. But John was supposed to be dead. Rodney had excepted that, after weeks and weeks of useless holding onto hope. But then Rodney had forgotten about the last minute twist of fate known as irony, always going for the ones who let their guard down, or finally give in to what they had thought was the inevitable. Life was slick that way. Always go for the pessimistic, and life knocks it back in the face, reminding the pessimist why pessimism never really works out.
Mental rambling. Rodney was losing it. He couldn't handle this sudden turn. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. Too wonderful, too strange, and nothing for Rodney to give name to.
He hated shock.
" Wha...?" his mouth refused to properly close, and his own intelligence left him stranded, uttering unintelligible nonsense. " Wha... Wha..."
Sheppard didn't move, not even blink, though his fingers and jaw twitched. He just stared, and stared, and stared with no expression and nothing in the eyes that registered what went on in that skull. It was like looking into the windshield of a running car with no driver behind the wheel.
The unwavering staring contest was making Rodney nervous, and in turn pissing him off. Good, anger, he could function on anger.
" What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was high-pitched and cracked, conveying nothing of the anger he wanted so much to be heard and spark a reaction out of the mute pilot.
Well, there was a reaction. A slight, microscopic shift in facial muscles, eyes going from completely blank to absolutely confused. Rodney's anger intensified.
What the hell is he doing? Rodney took a step closer to Sheppard, then another, and another.
" Hey, Colonel, I'm talking to you. What...?"
" Rodney," Teyla said, trying to admonish, but having no luck in keeping the waver out of her own voice. She approached John from behind and to the side with the deliberate movements of one trying not to spook the cornered lion.
When she was next to him, she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. He jerked back, turning, taking his stare from Rodney to pin it on Teyla. He just stared, and the confusion thickened, increasing his breathing. Teyla stepped back, giving him space.
" It is all right, Colonel... John." Teyla rarely, if ever, called him John. Rodney had never known why. And right now, he was just thankful John's stare had been averted elsewhere.
Teyla put her hand to her chest. " It is Teyla, John. Do you remember me?"
John blinked, thankfully, because Rodney was pretty sure his eyes were dried out by now. The skinny pilot lifted his hand to start rubbing the back of his neck, a familiar act to Rodney, but normally produced when John was in a crap-load of trouble and about to face Weir for it. It was different this time, more timid than awkward. His hand moved further up to rub the side of his head, from ear to crown, gripping his spiked hair when it came to the top, only to release and slide down. Over and over, his eyes squinting, mouth twitching. Rodney wasn't sure, but he believed he was witnessing an expression of pain.
No one spoke or moved. Any quieter and their collective heartbeats could have been heard were they beating in time. John pulled his hand away from his head with an effort that had his arm trembling. Slowly, carefully, uncertainly, he reached out toward Teyla. She stood still as a tree on a windless day, her face nothing but kind, her lips turned upward in a small smile. John's fingers touched her copper hair at her shoulders, a look of shy fascination replaced the confusion. For a moment, almost a nano-second, Rodney thought John was going to smile. His mouth twitched toward one, almost, but not quite. Confusion was trying to muscle back in, and the struggle seemed to hurt him.
Teyla reached up and took John's hand in both of hers, clasping it tight without causing discomfort.
John had yet to say anything, and that was scaring the hell out of Rodney. The pilot narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, recalling something, or thinking something that he found interesting. Widening his eyes with an epiphany kind of realization, he gradually bent forward, lowering his head to touch his forehead with Teyla's, who met him the rest of the way. This time, the smile struggled harder, and Rodney nearly saw it form.
Rodney rolled his eyes. This was taking too long. They needed to get out of this place, and John needed to snap from his fugue. Plus he had a question to answer, a thousand questions, but the main one being the one Rodney had already asked.
Rodney's anger climbed another notch. Gritting his teeth, he surged forward and grabbed Sheppard's arm with the intent of turning him. Instead, he acted just in time to catch John when he doubled over to heave until a thin stream of amber liquid spewed from his throat in a gurgling choke. Teyla leaped back in alarm. Shocked, disgusted, and lacking anything to say because of it, Rodney wrapped his arms around the Colonel's chest when the shuddering body went limp, sinking to the knees as he continued to heave and choke.
This was wrong, all wrong. Rodney had planned it out from the day he'd heard Sheppard had gone missing in an attempt to save Rodney and Ronon. Fly boy heroics leading to self-sacrificing never did sit well with Rodney. He'd always pictured it – didn't matter where or when – Sheppard appearing to them like he had now, stepping out of the woods, a building, or through the gate. Dirty, tired, a little worse for wear, smiling in relief. But the smile would be tainted with his usual lop-sided cocky smirk that just begged to be wiped from the face. And Rodney would have done just that. Knocked that grin right off the fly-boy. Sheppard would be insulted, McKay would chew him out concerning kamikaze stupidity, they would talk, make up, and everything would go back to the way it had been. Peachy freakin' keen, hunky-dory and all's well that ends well.
Too many twists of fate, and this one was twisting all the way down to Rodney's stomach. The feel of Sheppard's ribs digging into Rodney's arms – sharpest when the pilot gulped in air for another heave – sent bile shooting into Rodney's throat. Rodney was looking down at the Colonel's back, fixated on the gaping holes and tears of the shirt, and beyond that to the bloody-red scabs of slash-marks and the bruises numerous enough to form one single bruise from the base of Sheppard's neck to the small of his spine. There were broken bones, had to be with that many bruises and marks, and suddenly Rodney's hold on Sheppard seemed a dangerous act.
But he couldn't let go, or John would fall. And he sure as hell couldn't deck the man. He would shatter like glass, splinter and fragment, go down and never come up, life wiped rather than a smile. Ideal situations tended to always come out a bust. Now all Rodney could think about was whether he was hurting John trying to keep him off the ground, and how he could hold him up without doing so.
John, however, remained on his knees just fine, allowing a little slack to Rodney's hold. The heaving stopped, replaced by panting and shuddering that could have shaken John's body to pieces. Rodney grimaced on becoming aware of the furious pulsing of John's heart beating through fragile bones to tap Rodney's wrist. Reminder of life. Sheppard was alive, unarguably alive, tangible proof thudding against Rodney's arm. The shock was eternal, and the only reason Rodney still held on to John was because his brain seemed unable to communicate with his own body.
Then Teyla was kneeling beside them, witnessed out of the corner of Rodney's eye. She placed her hand on John's mutilated back, between the shoulder blades, and shared in the tangibility. It was a light touch, had to be since Sheppard only winced rather than cried out in pain. Ronon and Lorne approached to stand behind Teyla, watching, waiting, alarmed to the point that they didn't even try to hide it.
No one said anything, Sheppard especially. Teyla moved her hand from his back to his head and began stroking his hair.
" Colonel Sheppard."
Rodney saw, like a man witnessing someone else's dream, Teyla's eyes shimmer, then pool until the water flooded and tears traced wet lines down her face. Her lips faltered on trying to form a smile.
" Colonel Sheppard. It is me, Teyla. And Dr, McKay, Ronon, Major Lorne. It is your friends." Her need to laugh with joy succumbed to the sorrow of knowing that something was horribly wrong.
Numbly, Rodney slid his arms from Sheppard's chest and back, just enough to lean sideways while maintaining a hold in case Sheppard decided to go the rest of the way down.
It seemed the driver was out of the car again. Sheppard's eyes were empty, blank, so turned inward he didn't know how to come back out, and heavy lidded with exhaustion. Teyla kept up her stroking, and furiously wiped away her tears with her other hand. " Colonel Sheppard, please... say something. Are you ill? Injured?"
An inner voice wanted to snap out the sarcastic reply concerning vomiting being a good indication of illness. Shock kept Rodney's mouth shut, allowing logic it's due when it had him realize that Teyla was just trying to get Sheppard to respond. Bruises, cuts, and an emaciated body were shockers in themselves, but it was the Colonel's silence that produced shared feelings of fear.
John's panting came faster and faster. His eye twitched, then his head lowered as he brought up his arms to wrap over his skull. He started rocking back and forth with a periodic moan, still panting, as though at any moment the heaves would start up again. Teyla looked up at Rodney, then Ronon, then Lorne. Never since Rodney had met Teyla had he seen such a look of panicked uncertainty in her eyes, and it made Rodney wonder if she had had her own ideal situation concerning Sheppard's return, now smashed to dusty dreams.
She returned her focus to Sheppard, placing both her hands on his bony shoulders. " Colonel, please. Tell us what is wrong. Speak to us."
" A little premature for that."
Rodney jumped, and every team-member's head snapped to the right.
The tall, bald stranger in the ragged tan coat carrying two sacks over his shoulder lifted his hand in a casual gesture of pointing at John. " Talking's been kind of trial for him. His brains a little too busy attempting to right itself to put effort into forming words."
Lorne and Ronon lifted their guns to point at the stranger. The guy didn't even bat an eye at the potential death aimed his way. " You may want to try giving him a moment. His stomach still ain't happy about what his head's up to."
Teyla narrowed her eyes dangerously, and one arm slide across both of John's shoulders in a protective embrace. " Who are you? What do you want?"
The man shifted focus to the Athosian, and smiled. " No need for hostilities, friend Teyla. We have a mutual acquaintance in Shep there. You can call me Kace."
Rodney and Teyla exchanged looks. Maybe the man knew Sheppard, or maybe he walked in on them the moment Teyla was spouting out all their names for John to recall. Didn't matter since they both knew better than to jump to conclusions.
" Not at all, Doc. McKay. Just got here myself. Shep took off running when he heard the fire fight and," he lifted his shoulders weighted by the sacks, " I was kind of slowed in the pursuit. I'd have you ask Sheppard, but he's rather unreliable in the vouching department, as you can see. He needs water... Then we need to move before the thug squad returns."
McKay's jaw fell gradually open. The absurdity of the day had finally reached the point where rather than accepting it, McKay refused to put up with it, and let it restoke his anger. " Who the hell are you...?"
" To tell you what to do? No one in particular, just thought you wanted to get out of here is all, not get dragged back to our mutual enemy... I mean his quickness chief Judge Harl. Listen, I've been dragging your friend along, keeping an eye out for you people so I can return him to you. Now, I have, job well done, and right now I would like nothing more than to skip off this rock before the thugs track us down and my five day sentence becomes five years. And seeing as how we both have a goal to make it to the ring, it seems only reasonable that we go along together. I know how to get to it – bypassing the guards – which seems to be your dilemma. I can help you if you don't have too much concern about helping me out in return. Nothing big, just let me come through to where you're going, so I can safely get through to where I really wish to go. I don't think that's too much trouble, especially since I did your little friend the favor of saving his hide."
Rodney and Teyla did another eye exchange. Something was odd, but McKay's already frazzled brain was being sluggish about figuring it out. Ronon and Lorne just looked ready to kill. Rodney looked back at Kace, mouth open, words forming...
Kace rolled his eyes. " I read minds, Mr. McKay. Or doctor or whatever you call yourself. Don't waste my time with stupid questions. We need to get out of here. Shep needs to rest. His homicidal reaction that saved your life took a lot out of him. He's got infections building up, exhaustion settling in, and won't be able to stand on his own two feet much longer. So if I were you, I'd get your Satedan friend to help stand him up and get him moving. I can take you to where it's safe, then we can talk. Hey Shep, you good?"
Sheppard raised his head to turn it on his unsteady neck. He looked at Kace, then gave him a tired nod.
Rodney was struck speechless, which shocked even him. Sheppard's sudden appearance, a mind reader, and both in cahoots. Rodney was waiting for the moment when he finally woke up to resume his life of being constantly pissed. Anger was so much easier to deal with, and right now he missed it.
Sheppard's weak nod of affirmation seemed to seal the situation with the rest of the team. Teyla rose moving one hand to grip John's bicep. Ronon stowed his weapon to take John's other arm, and together they pulled him to his feet. The pilot swayed on trembling legs. Ronon moved in closer, allowing John to brace against him until the rebelling legs finally locked themselves into place. Even then Ronon kept his hand on Sheppard's upper arm. Teyla held out her canteen to John, and he took it without actually acknowledging it, like an automated reaction, taking small sips then handing it back. He didn't even wipe his mouth.
Kace sauntered past the group to take the lead. " We're good for now but I got presences moving our way. Best start heading off," he said without stopping. Irritation at the commands of a stranger demanded that McKay retort. Lingering shock trumped that order, and McKay kept his mouth shut. He was still waiting to wake up, and until then went along with it, taking up a stance on Sheppard's other side. He didn't know why. Truthfully he had expected himself to keep as far away from Sheppard as possible until his mind could fully absorb the situation. Instead, all he could think about was keeping Sheppard from falling face-first into the dirt. As they started moving to follow Kace, Rodney looked over at the Colonel, and his gaze became fixed. John lurched into motion, stumbling, and would have fallen if Ronon hadn't had a hold on him.
It wasn't Sheppard; the frailty, the confusion, the flickering hints of fear. Only the hair sticking up in all directions was as it was supposed to be. Everything else was just a shell, a wasted, sickly, shell. A massive part of Rodney couldn't accept this walking corpse as John. Not that he tried to rationalize it was someone else with a remarkable similarity in looks to John. It was John's body, just not John, so despite what Rodney thought he should have felt – joy mixed with anger, happiness for his friend's return, and fury that he'd gone missing in the first place – all Rodney could feel was utter and inexplicable doubt.
John being here in body didn't mean he was back – so said the obnoxious little voice of pessimism in Rodney's head.
But uncertainty wasn't the defining factor in Rodney's action. Yes, he watched John in search of the Sheppard they all knew. Waited for the actions – or more appropriately reactions – common only to Sheppard, though most of those reactions tended to be verbal and directed toward a more talkative McKay. McKay's proximity was more a subconscious need to be near enough to watch Sheppard on another level – an almost protective level, one shared by the rest of the team now positioned with Teyla at the front and Lorne behind, surrounding John – because bruises and gashes didn't create themselves.
SGA
The air was cool within the woods, and it wasn't even evening yet – not quite at any rate. Still enough indigo light to see by. The group stopped in a small clearing surrounded by thick-trunked trees with maple shaped leaves and wild shrubs. Kace deemed it safe enough for a fire if kept small and put out before going to sleep.
" We're far enough away now," he explained as he gathered rocks to form a ring. Ronon and Lorne gathered wood, searching only within sight and hearing of the clearing. Trust wasn't quick coming, even after Sheppard had acknowledged this Kace fellow. Yet Kace didn't seem to mind.
" No presences sensed, which means we're a good couple of miles from anyone sentient. The gate isn't too far but you'll want to approach it around evening. Even escaped prisoners won't have the guards picking up the slack. The changing of the guard is when you need to move, and I've got that schedule down tight."
Ronon and Lorne dumped the wood by the rock ring. Kace took the smaller branches and tossed them inside. He then lit the wood with a small, thumb-sized device similar to Teyla's mini-laser. The wood popped, sparked, and Kace blew on the embers to ignite them into writhing snakes of flame.
Despite Sheppard's seeming compliance at being lent support, once stopped for the night, he had moved away from the team to sit huddled with his back against a tree, knees to his chest and arms tucked behind them. He sat to the team's right, and even with a blanket about his shoulders kept on shivering. Kace squatted on the left and began rummaging through the smaller sack until he removed a crust of bread and strips of meat wrapped in cloth. He held the meat up.
" Hungry? Unless you've got your own food, then I suggest you eat that. I need what I got, no offense."
Rodney eyed the strips – reminiscent of beef jerky – but interplanetary food had him cautious. One never knew when citrus might be involved in production of the stuff.
" None taken," he murmured, and started digging through the pockets of his vest for a power bar. He always had one hidden on his person. Problem was, he tended to forget where he hid them. " We're fine."
Kace smirked. " Good. But I ain't a cruel man who's disinclined to share. Shep would tell you if he could." He rose, and went over to Sheppard to hand him the crust of bread, which Sheppard timidly took. Rodney paused in his search and lifted his brow in surprise.
Kace caught the reaction. On straightening from his crouch, he looked over at McKay and smiled. " Bit of a habit feeding him. Besides, bread's the only thing he seems able to keep down so far."
" What is... wrong with him?" Teyla asked, and sounded loathed to ask it. Her eyes were fixed on Sheppard and had yet to so much as stray an inch to anything else.
Kace dusted his hands and moved back over to his spot. " What's wrong? Or what happened to him?" He eased himself to the ground with a grunt, crossing his legs Indian style. He grabbed the cloth and pulled out a strip of meat to gnaw on. " What's wrong with him is easy." Kace leaned sideways and tapped the side of his skull. " He ain't quite right in the head."
Rodney, coming up with squat in his search for a power bar, snorted. " Gee, really? Couldn't tell."
Kace chuckled in response. " You've got a quick mouth and a sharp tongue, Doc. McKay. I like that, but on some worlds that'll get you killed."
" So I've notice," Rodney mumbled. " Could you be more specific about the 'not quite right in the head' part?"
" I was getting to that. Our mutual enemy had an interest in your Shep and his ability to make all the pretty little shinies light up. But it seems your Shep wasn't too up to cooperating. He'd make 'em light, just wouldn't make 'em dance. This, in turn, got on his chief judgeship's nerves. Needless to say he wanted results, and did everything nasty he could to get them. The nastiest being this small," he illustrated the size with palms facing each other about a hand span apart, " hand-held contraption that when placed to the side of the head will scramble the brain. Hence – brain scrambler."
McKay halted in his search all together to balk, appetite suddenly decreased. " They fried his brain?"
" Precisely. No worries though. It's not permanent. At least... I don't think it is. Can't be sure. The device is known to have a lot of side-affects, and Harl didn't skimp on the thing when using it against Sheppard. It's left him – how do I describe it? – not so much forgetful... Okay! Think of it this way. It's like that device put one of those twisty winds into his head..."
" A tornado?" McKay asked.
" Yeah, probably. Anyways, this twisty wind – tornado – is pretty much ripping up his head, scattering his thoughts, keeping him from being able to focus on one single image or remembrance. Just around and around it goes – except when he dreams. Seems it can't touch the subconscious. His mind's always calm when he's asleep. But I can't read dreams, too fast. Without the daily ministrations of the device, his mind should start to settle. But since you know about those winds, you know how whatever they pick up comes back down just as messy. It's going to take time for his brain to ground. You're lucky he didn't go into a seizure when he saw you. I was quite impressed. But the vomiting – that's kind of a new one. Not a surprise, just new. Without Harl and his thugs to give him medicines, the infections have been creeping in."
Teyla went rigid and managed to rip her unwavering vigil from Sheppard to stare wide-eyed at Kace. " He is falling ill?"
Kace looked down at the meat scrap being twisted by his fingers; a somber action for a sudden melancholy mood. " He's been ill for some time now, friend Teyla. He's just at the end of the bridge now."
McKay leaned forward. His beloved anger had returned, this time with a more precise focus that would ensure it stuck around. " How the hell did this Harl guy find Sheppard anyways?"
Kace shrugged. " That's the part I can't tell you. I tried a deeper scan to get Sheppard's story, but that didn't go too well. All I know of is hive ships and a crash landing. The rest is tumbling around that jumble of a consciousness of his." Kace gestured at Sheppard by tossing up his hand and letting it drop into his lap.
Rodney looked over at the skinny pilot taking small bites of the bread as he stared transfixed into the fire. The flames seemed to fascinate him, even comfort him, because there came no flickers of fear. The Colonel's eye twitched, then his head, and he still hadn't stopped shivering.
" He has not spoken at all?" Teyla asked.
" Off and on he might say something. For the most part, all I ever heard were screams."
They fell quiet, and silence would have been absolute if not for the snap and pop of the fire. Rodney looked away from Sheppard to assess the team at a glance. Teyla was sad, Lorne was scowling, and Ronon had on his 'want to rip heads from shoulders' game face. If Harl and his cronies were to show up right this very minute... no deliberations - they'd be dead before they spoke.
" They tortured him," Ronon said, a statement of fact, not a question.
Kace nodded solemnly. " Beat him, starved him... they're all about the brute force tactics. But your Shep... He's an odd one. Didn't matter how many times they scrambled his mind or what bones they broke, he never gave in. Never once buckled down. It's what got me liking the guy. You don't meet too many folks like that, and it's a waste to have 'em keel over for something like getting a stupid little toy to blink and buzz."
McKay resumed his search and looked back at Sheppard, who'd stopped eating the bread to just stare into the fire. Rodney narrowed his eyes.
" He's got this... dive face first into danger streak," McKay explained. " Where we come from, we call it kamikaze. Also known as idiocy. He'd die before he gave into anything he deemed 'unworthy' to give into."
" He almost did."
Rodney looked at Kace. The telepath was staring at him penetratingly hard. Rodney tried to glare back but his body still insisted on squirming. " Oh don't you even go into my head..."
He stopped when he heard a soft crunch, and turned back to where Sheppard had been sitting. But he wasn't sitting, he was standing right next to Rodney, holding out the large half of his bread."
" Huh," Kace said, sounding surprised. " Seems to be worried... about you Doc."
McKay looked up at Sheppard, into his concerned face. Typical Sheppard, and Rodney would have scowled, except that he wasn't angry. He was stunned, yes, but more than that he felt excitement tighten his chest. Typical Sheppard, very typical, always looking out for the other guy.
McKay took the bread. " Uh... thanks."
Sheppard attempted a smile, but lost it, and the spark of recognition. His eyes went glassy, his face twitched, and he turned to go back to his spot.
" Oh no...!" Kace hissed, tearing the dirt as he scrambled to his feet.
Sheppard didn't go very far when he dropped his bread to move both hands to his head. He fell to his knees, moaned in pain, toppled to his side, rolled to his back that arched, and began to convulsively thrash. Kace dropped to his knees beside Sheppard to lie across the thin man's chest. " A little help here!"
Ronon and Lorne were on their feet and rushing over.
" Keep his back down!" Kace cried. Lorne pinned Sheppard's shoulders, and both Ronon and Kace put their weight on his chest to prevent his back from arching to the point of snapping. Rodney gaped, paling, certain they were going to crush the frail body, break what wasn't already broken and worsen what was. But the seizure lasted only a minute when the body went limp and still except for the heaving chest. Ronon and Kace were off him quick, and Kace draped the discarded blanket over Sheppard.
" Wha... What was that?" Rodney stammered. Kace looked over at him, weary and subdued.
" The price of remembering."
SGA
A/N: So much for the fluff moment. Oh well.
