A/N: As promised, another update. Because, as always, your reviews make me smile.
11
Weir paced. She didn't have much of a choice since sitting agitated her body back into motion.
" He found you?" She asked. For once she folded her arms not out of habit but to hide the fact that her hands were shaking.
Rodney shrugged. His hands clasped on the conference table kept clenching until they lost all color, matching Rodney's face perfectly. " Um... yes... in a way..."
Weir spun around on her heels for her next pass. " What do you mean in a way?"
Rodney shrugged, moved his mouth, shook his head, but didn't say a word. Not in the immediate sense. Words eventually came when Weir turned her eyes on him. Her expression must not have been pleasant the way it had McKay squirming.
" He... uh... he jumped out of the woods and saved my life. And that's all we know except for what Kace here," he pointed a timid finger at the bald man sitting to McKay's right, " told us. That Harl had Sheppard and – uh – tortured him in order to get a few Ancient toys to glitter."
Weir looked at Kace, squinting at him. The man hadn't said a word since the conference started. He returned Elizabeth's gaze, having been staring at her since he sat down. Probably reading her mind, gleaning her thoughts. The idea made her shudder, and hoped her displeasure gave him the hint to back off. But she couldn't tell if it did.
The team had been quick to point out Kace's unique ability.
Weir opened her mouth to form a question.
Kace opened his faster. " Like I already told your folks, I don't know how he ended up in Harl's claws. Friend Shep's mind hasn't been a pleasure to read, neither for me or him, and I didn't want to push it. All I know is, his judgeship was quite desperate to get Shep to light those goodies up and make 'em sing. But Shep, he wouldn't have it. Fought it every step of the way."
Weir snapped her jaw closed. The sudden lack of mental privacy made her skin crawl. However, she took comfort in the apparent disinterest Kace had toward her reactions. He neither took pleasure or offense by her thoughts concerning him. Okay, so he skipped the questions, at least he answered them without a smug grin afterwards that pushed home his ability to toy with her.
It brought about a pang of guilt that pricked her chest. She was basing the attitudes of all telepaths on the wraith. The wraith superiority complex was founded on two things – their deadly strength, and their mind control abilities. They reveled in both, and didn't let anyone forget it. Kace, thus far, was proving to be the antithesis. Elizabeth even caught an inkling of concern in the seemingly stoic man's eyes on talking about Sheppard.
Kace held up a finger and shifted in his seat. " I will say this, though, if it might be of help. Sheppard's been bringing out the curious in me. I tried for a deeper scan but had to cut it short when Shep ended up not faring too well. I saw things, images – wraith ships, space, crashing. Now, it's a habit of mine to pry – for safety's sake, keep in mind. Always gotta know who I'm dealing with. Your folks told me quite an interesting story about our mutual friend, including him going for some wraith hive ships or some such as. And, seeing as how the memories have a fresh feel to them, I think we could probably put two and two together, maybe fill in the gaps with a little guess work."
Weir nodded thoughtfully. " Yes... You're saying he might have crashed on Raal?"
" And that Harl found him," Teyla joined.
" Or Sheppard was brought to Harl," Ronon added.
" Something along those lines," Kace said. " The gaps will have to be filled by Shep. Probably not too pleasant anyways. You see, I wasn't able to go into a deep scan with Harl as I wanted. But it wasn't necessary. The man's an ambitious Muqs – uh, that's a rodent like... thing – but not important. Very cowardly. He has plans, plans I couldn't see straight on, but plans he doesn't want his boss Chief Command Morel to know about. That's as far as I got before some distraction got in the way. Because of these goals or whatever, he got a little too anxious, so used brute force to make Shep a good little boy and do as he said. But, like I said, your Shep fought it every step of the way. Just proves my point that Harl's an idiot. If he'd just been patient about it, scrambled Shep's brain then went for coercion rather than abuse, he could have had Shep lighting those little suckers up standing on his head singing 'The Ballad of Boreth's Lost Love', which, if you don't know – which you don't – has a hundred versus to it. He got panicky, pushed Shep who – obviously – ain't a man who likes to be pushed around."
To which Rodney commented thoughtfully, " Very obviously."
Elizabeth eased out a long drawn breath. " Okay then. Do you know how badly he was tortured beyond just this scrambler?"
Kace's eyes turned in the direction of the conference room entrance. " Your resident doc can tell you."
And like magic – which Elizabeth couldn't help describing it as – the panels eased open enough to allow Dr. Beckett to slip through. The man's appearance was shabby, pale, baggy eyed, and he had one sleeve rolled up above the bandage around his forearm.
Elizabeth stopped pacing, and could feel the color slowly seep from her own face. " Carson? How is he?"
Beckett rubbed his hands together, chewed his lip for a moment, then methodically moved around the table to sit in the chair on the far left hand side. He let out an exhausted sigh. " As of the moment, he's sedated, but I'm not going to say for certain that he's fine." Beckett lifted his bound arm. " I'm certain someone made mention of this little mishap?"
Weir nodded. " Ronon filled me in. Said that Sheppard... Panicked?"
Beckett nodded with eyes wide. " Panicked doesn't quite cover it. The man went ballistic."
Kace winced. " Oh, sorry about that. Everything was kind of happening fast that I didn't get a chance to warn anyone. Shep tends to get massively violent when he first wakes up."
Beckett gave Kace an odd look. " Aye, well... that might have come in handy had I been told. We had to strap him down. And let me tell ya, he's not as pretty a sight on the inside as he is on the outside. First off – and if you haven't taken notice by now then you're a blind bugger – he's sufferin' from severe malnutrition. Poor lad didn't have a bloody thing in his stomach. He has too many abrasions to count, probably from a whip or somethin' similar, a few burn marks, and massive bruising all over his body. Right now he's got four broken ribs and three cracked, a crack in his collar bone, left arm, and a sprained wrist. But here's the real kicker. X-rays revealed older breaks that aren't quite healed, one on his right arm, one on his shin, and a rib we were forced to reset thanks to it healin' crooked. If there was any damage done to the organs, whoever had him must have fixed it, since there's no way internal damage was avoided. Toppin' the list, he's got a nasty infection thanks to those untreated abrasions and – I'm guessin' – mighty poor accommodations. Lad's sicker than an old dog, and being already weakened by hunger won't have an easy time about fightin' it. What the bloody hell was done to him? And I say whoever did it ought to be strung up by his thumbs for the vultures to pick at."
Every eye turned to Kace, who had his eyes cast down in pondering.
" Okay, the lashes and the breaks I get. Can't explain the burns. Then again, Harl's been rumored to be quite clever with bringing on the pain. Like I said, they used brute force to coerce rather than sweet talking. But, yeah, they did what they needed to to keep him alive. That much I know. Wasn't around for when it all started."
Beckett pointed at Kace. " Who's this?"
" The man who saved Sheppard, it seems," Weir replied. " Mr. Kace..."
" Just Kace."
" Okay, then, Kace. Do you know any more concerning the chief Judge's plans? Why he wanted Sheppard to activate the devices?"
Kace shrugged. " To use them - himself. It involves the Chief Commander, his distaste toward Harl, and that Harl is spooked. Harl isn't exactly a well liked guy. A looooot of people are looking forward to having his head on a pike. I think he was looking for a better means of security. Which, of course, wasn't working out. But that's my guess. I don't know. There was something else, I just didn't have the chance – and to admit it half the time didn't take the chance – to go a little deeper."
Weir nodded in understanding, but not even remotely close to being satisfied with the answer. She was confident that Raal and Harl wouldn't present much of a threat to Atlantis. She just wanted to know what the hell was so damn important to keep abusing one man over a bunch of stupid contraptions. Harl was in no ways a threat to Atlantis because – officially – Atlantis was a threat to Harl. There would be no limitation of retaliation toward Harl should paths ever be crossed again. For once in her life, Elizabeth was actually dismissing thoughts of diplomacy for thoughts of preemptive strikes against this Harl and his cronies.
Kace picked up on it, and Elizabeth noticed the beginnings of a smirk twitching on the man's face. Elizabeth let out an unsteady breath then ran her fingers through her hair.
" All right. I've detained you people long enough. Post mission checkup, then rest. Believe me when I tell you it's well deserved."
The conference panels slid open as people rose from their seats to depart. Rodney was almost out when he spun around suddenly. " Um... Sheppard. I know he's sedated but... can we see him?"
Carson pushed himself from his seat with a grunt. " Redundant question, Rodney. You're goin' to the infirmary anyways."
Rodney blinked twice. " Oh yeah."
SGA
Elizabeth watched for the muscle twitches, and wondered distantly if they were patterned and timed, or random and rhythm less. The dominant twitch seemed focused on Sheppard's left eye, with the lid flickering from more than just REM. His fingers twitched, a muscle in his shoulder spasmed, then his whole head jerked. He was panting, thin chest heaving, breath rasping. He was fed oxygen through the nose, medicine through the hand with the bandaged wrist, and the beep of the heart monitor was rapid.
Elizabeth reached out with the intent of placing her hand on John's shoulder. It stopped to hover above the intended spot. As much as she wanted the contact that would hammer home the reality of his presence, she was halted by the absurd notion that no matter how lightly she placed her hand on him, he would still shatter into dust.
" It's all right, lass," Beckett said, coming up beside her. " He's out cold. He won't be waken' for a bit."
Elizabeth smiled wanly. " That's not what I'm worried about." She forced her hand down, and her stomach clenched at the sharp clarity at which bone could be felt through skin and gown. Accompanying it was heat, too much heat burning him from the inside out. If she squeezed the gown, she knew, water would come out. Then there were those bruises, all those deep bruises emphasized against the blindingly white, horribly thin face.
Elizabeth lifted her shoulder to wipe the tears from her eyes before they could fall. Tears of gut-wrenching sorrow, and tears of heated fury. With her one hand still on John's shoulder, she reached out with her other to take his fingers into hers, careful of the I.V. and the strap.
" Is tying him down necessary?" she bitterly asked. Carson sighed heavily.
" For now. When he awakes, and is calm, they'll be removed. It may sound harsh, but they're for his own good. He nearly killed himself with that panic attack."
Elizabeth looked back over her shoulder at the occupied beds where the rest of the team sat as nurses checked them over.
" How are they?"
" Relatively fine. Exhausted, shaken, but no worse for wear, though Rodney had a close call with his hypoglycemia.
While suffering a blood pressure cuff, Rodney stared at Elizabeth and Beckett. Probably more appropriately at John. Teyla, Ronon, and Lorne turned their gazes in the same direction every so often. Elizabeth looked back at John, rubbing the tips of his fingers. The rest of his body might have been burning up, but his fingers were like ice.
" I never thought..." she shook her head, strangely numb after having been so overwhelmed by two powerful emotions a moment ago. " I never thought we'd see him... again. I hoped – we hoped... Kept hoping. I think, somewhere, recently maybe, we stopped hoping, because this," she laughed, and half-sobbed, " this is just so... so unbelievable. Having him back, here, now."
She felt the weight of a hand on her shoulder, and turned her head to look at Carson. He was smiling, slightly sad, but mostly bright.
" Bloody miracle, right?"
Elizabeth looked back. " Yeah. Pretty much."
SGA
Elizabeth's eyes stung from the tears she finally let fall in the privacy of her office. She remained seated at her desk, doing nothing, waiting for her eyes to dry and the betraying redness to dissipate. But people were calling for her over the radio, and she couldn't wait any longer. She did another quick wipe, just in case, rose, straightened her shirt, composed herself, and headed out.
John's return was surreal to her. She accepted his presence just fine in the infirmary with him in the flesh for her to see and feel. Outside that mini-realm, her mind slipped back into the old habit of missing John, until slapped back to reality by images of John lying sick and bruised on a bed. Then the tears would try to regroup.
It made her stomach coil and shrink. It was sick. Harl was sick. The people of Raal were sick if they allowed such brutality. But that was being unfair. From what Kace had told her, this abuse against Sheppard was Harl's doing, not the entire planet's.
Elizabeth fell into the comfort of leadership routine, talking to the techs, hearing out discoveries or complaints as she moved about the control room. Eventually, her eyes came to the conference room, and a solitary figure sitting at the table. Never one to ignore curiosity, Elizabeth headed toward the room to find Kace sitting at the seat normally occupied by Sheppard. He was already looking at her, and inclined his head in greeting.
" Doc. Weir," he said.
Grateful as she was to the man for what he did, he still generated unease in her. She stiffened, and clasped her hands behind her back in a show of confidence, then dropped her shoulders on recalling that she would have better luck hiding Atlantis behind a toothpick than hiding her emotions from Kace.
Kace said nothing about it. The man was probably used to it.
" Mr. Kace," Elizabeth returned the greeting. " Have you been in here the whole time?"
Kace pursed his lips and shook his head. " Nah. Let your doc check me over. Says I'm fit as a fiddle – Whatever a fiddle is. Looked like some kind of fancy harbcord when he pictured it. At any rate, he let me go, that Lorne fellow showed me a room I could have, but I wasn't much inclined to rest. Needed to talk to you seeing as how you're in charge and all."
Weir opened her mouth, but Kace held up his hand.
" No, not about getting off this floating town. I'm in no real rush, and to tell you the truth not stupid enough to pass up nice accommodations like this. Mind you I'll probably be using the excuse of wanting to see how friend Shep is doing to stick around for a bit – but that ain't far from the truth. I got him out, might as well see how he fairs. Plus he owes me a thanks." Kace grinned. " And no, miss Weir, I've no real interest in this city, Unless you've got weapons you're willing to trade for some shiny baubles. Doubt it, of course, but still thought I'd try."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Maybe Kace did like playing mind games.
Kace gave her another grin and shook his head. " Nope. Sorry, Doc. Weir, for beating about like that. Just dismissing a few fallacies before they turn into something nasty. Tends to be the story of my life."
Weir moved to the nearest seat and sat, continuing to face Kace. " What is your story? If you don't mind my asking."
Kace sniffed and leaned back against the chair, angled so he could have one arm draped over the top. " A little like your Satedan friend, only minus a lot of wraith involvement. Mine's not a friendly world, and keeping on the go seems to make life a little easier on me. I've no interest in wars, politics, and contrary to popular belief – gain. I may be a thief, but I'm not greedy about it. I like living, Doc. Weir, and do what I can to stay alive. And that's my story in a gist. And since you seem keen on knowing, Shep was a helping hand in wreaking a little misery on Harl through the confiscation of a few of his possessions. Shep being my cell mate, though, was more coincidence, and a mighty helpful coincidence it was. You've got a good man watching your back, Doc Weir. He was quite adept at watching mine."
As Elizabeth listened, her nervousness wavered. The man was honest to a lack of fault, despite his many imperfections. Then again, who in any galaxy was perfect? He might have been establishing trust out of false pretense, yet Elizabeth didn't think so. She'd seen his bag of stolen goods when the marines sifted through it, and not a single one emitted any form of energy reading. Precious metals and stones, nothing more.
Elizabeth let herself smile some. " Yes, he is good at that, maybe a little too good. We thought we'd lost him for good this time around."
Kace had looked away, down at the floor. He nodded thoughtfully with apparent understanding.
" So I saw. Quite the tidal wave of shock surging through this floating town thanks to Shep's return." Kace's eyes shot up, then at Elizabeth. " a few are getting a little too comfortable about it."
Weir creased her brow. " Comfortable?"
Kace drummed his fingers on the seat. His features, relaxed before, darkened now, as though whatever he were thinking – or reading – wasn't sitting well with him.
" Comfortable, as in already thinking things back to the way they were. Now, you're a smart lady, and not quite to that point yet. You know what happened to Shep's going to leave more than just the physical marks. You're aware of the ramifications of torture."
Weir's body tensed, and she swallowed against a constricted throat. Torture wasn't a stranger to Sheppard, but...
" Never as easy for him to get over as it seems," Kace finished. " I know what I know of the scrambler from the minds I've looked into, but my info is general. It's had different affects for different folks. That's why I wished to see you, Doc. Weir. I wanted to make sure you're aware. Being back in body isn't always being back. Now, rest assured, the affects wear off. But the mans' sick, and fever ain't going to do him a lick of good with his head still fragmented like it is."
Weir folded her hands on her lap, squeezing until pain was created, grounding her. " What can we expect?"
Kace shrugged. " Don't know. You see, Doc. Weir, all Shep's had as any sort of a guiding rope was this solitary defiance against lighting the gizmos up for Harl. Then there was the pain, and the fear, but mostly the defiance. When a man clings to all he's got left, it becomes all he knows. It's like a last scrap of food for him, and he'll fight, and kill, even die to keep it. There's a mess of memories in Shep's head – the good jumbled with the bad, and you can never be sure what's going to surface. Only in dreams is there clarity, but he loses that when he wakes up. It's almost like those games where a person draws a name from a bucket of names. You might be the winner, you might not. Shep's head pulls memories too fast for even him. Eventually, his head'll calm, but the memories will still need to be sorted. And there'll be things – moments, sights, sounds, smells, general familiarities that could trigger any kind of memory, and it'll become all he knows – if that memory happens to be the pain, the fear, the defiance. I know 'cause I've seen it through the minds of the men who carry the scrambler like a weapon. What I can't tell you is if it'll be permanent. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't. You need to be ready, Doc. Weir. You need to be ready for the worst. I'm just saying."
Weir's hands shook, the pain lost to lack of circulation. She had to pry her hands apart to get them to stop. Her heart was hammering, making it tricky to breathe. She exhaled deeply, cleared her throat, and scrounged for a remnant of composure. " So what do we do then?"
Kace lifted his hand. " Make sure only the good memories get leeway."
