A/N: The Internet has been severely punished. Let that be a lesson to all Internet sites. Also I would like to add that the end of chapter 20 had been cut off. Not that you really missed anything vital, but I thought I'd let you know if you wish to finish those last two bits of dilalogue that have no real importance whatsoever in the long run. Let us be a lesson to us all – never rush.
21
Lorne was first to climb the ladder, And Ronon followed, then Keb, some guy named Friez, and another marine. Ronon arched his neck back then to the side trying to catch a glimpse of the LSD screen. The screens glow outlined Lorne's face in a profile silhouette, and that was all Ronon could see. Then Major Lorne lifted his hand high enough to open the trap door a hairline crack. Two seconds count and he was putting the device between his teeth to climb the rest of the way up and slipping through the door without opening it all the way. Ronon quickly followed, with the rest making the rungs ring out behind. They emerged in some kind of large store room that would have been completely empty except for a pile of bulging grain sacks in one corner and several barrels in another.
Both Ronon and Lorne slipped without sound to the door across the way, staying in a crouch with Lorne holding the LSD before him. With his other hand he reached up to the handle, inching the door open, looking, then opening it enough to slip out. Ronon moved fast even in a crouch to come after into what looked to be...
The bar. Ronon grinned, wishing McKay could see this. Hunkering behind the bar beside Lorne, Ronon caught the questioning look on the Major's face.
" Good drinks here," Ronon whispered. " Just ask McKay."
Lorne smirked back at that.
When the others joined them, Lorne crept to one side of the bar, Ronon the other, peering around through the forest of table and chair legs. Seeing no booted wraith feet, Ronon rose enough to see over the tables to the windows. A shadowed shape, wraith tall with a head made oversized by long ratty hair, glided past, pausing to peer in. Ronon ducked back enough not to be seen but still able to see the wraith shape move on. Ronon turned his head and upper body enough to look at Lorne. Lorne looked back at Ronon, jerked a thumb at himself, pointed to Ronon, then flashed two hand signals – one telling Ronon to wait, the other requesting cover fire should it come down to that. Then Lorne slipped around the bar, still in a crouch, moving silent and steady enough to impress Ronon. The 'Lantean soldiers may have had their flaws, but they also had their skills.
On reaching the tavern doors, Lorne pulled the blinking round thing from his pack, checked the LSD, waited, then eased the door open enough to lean forward and hurl the ball across the ground with everything he had. Again he waited, and only lesser seconds passed when Ronon's ears caught the distinct, familiar whine and blast of wraith stunners. Lorne crept back behind the bar, all smiles.
" That thing is awesome," he said in a normal voice level. " Come on."
Even with the distraction in play, they stayed crouched to move along the wall to the door on the far right hand side of the bar. Once gathered around it. Lorne took a quick glance at the LSD then opened the door to go first. Outside in the twilight back alley they were able to straighten, and moved right, keeping to the back wall of the tavern, heading away from the very inn the 'Lantean team had stayed in what felt like an eternity ago. On coming to the end of the wall, they halted, with Lorne peering around. With a curt nod, he tore across the opening of the narrow alley between the two buildings. With another check into that alley, he signaled Ronon to follow. Even moving fast Ronon was able to catch sight of what was going on, and cocked an eyebrow at what looked to be more 'Lantean marines crouched in alleys or darting in and out of buildings, with wraith firing and never hitting a single one.
Tons of wraith, flocking – as Sheppard had put it – like rats to a carcass. And thanks to a book full of pictures of earth animals, Ronon understood the comparison, and had to agree with it.
On reaching the other side, Lorne signaled for the next person to follow, then the next, checking each time. But the wraith were happily occupied with the human created illusion.
The back door to the three story building was locked, but nothing Ronon couldn't pick with the thin-bladed knife he kept hidden in the lining of his coat. The lock clicked, and after a quick check with the LSD they all bolted inside, back to crouching in another store room, far smaller and cluttered with bolts of material and half-finished dresses, suits, and hats. Another door, not locked, another check, and on creeping out they were once again gathered behind a counter.
" Now for the fun part," Lorne breathed, and jerked his chin toward the stairs. They moved the length of the counter toward those stairs. Lorne peeked around it, craning his neck, rising a bit, then dashed for the steps, clamoring quickly up with the rest following as though joined by an invisible tether. Lorne was about to step onto the landing when he halted so suddenly that Ronon collided into him, bowling him over at the same time a white-blue blast ripped through the air, nearly grazing the major's back by less than inches. Ronon arched back then whipped his weapon around to burn the air with a few blasts of his own right into a wraith drone's chest. The wraith fell back, but a second stepped over the first with stunner about to go off, only to have a rapid succession of bullets tear its chest to shredded meat, the explosive spat of Lorne's P-90 making Ronon's ears buzz.
Only when a fist sized hole had been punctured into the wraith's chest did Lorne stop and the wraith crumple on top of its buddy. Ronon slung his weapon back over his shoulder, then bent to grab Lorne by the collar of his vest and haul the smaller man to his feet. With a heavy pat on the man's back that almost had him toppling again, Ronon stepped around, pulling out his far larger and more favorite knife from the sheath in his boot. He knelt beside the two wraith, and slit their throats deep enough to rip their heads off the rest of the way if he wanted to, black blood spurting and coating Ronon's hands.
The two townsfolk made their way around Ronon and the dead wraith warily, into the narrow hall, checking bedrooms for more wraith, then stopping beneath what looked to be a door in the ceiling.
" Jeth!" Keb called. " Jeth, you up there? Come on, Jeth, answer me!"
The ceiling creaked, and Ronon caught the thump and shuffle of movement.
" That you Keb?"
" No, it's a wraith that sounds like me. 'Course it's me! Get down here now so we can get to the tunnel. We don't have much time."
More shuffling, creaking, and thumping, then the door in the ceiling groaned open and a ladder slid down. A stocky man of medium height with a semi-similar appearance to Keb emerged first toting a rifle slung over his shoulder. He turned to Keb, both men with relief plain as daylight on their faces, and quickly embraced his brother. But Keb pushed his brother back.
" Jeth, what is wrong with you! I told you there was a tunnel next to where you lived."
" What do you mean? I checked. I couldn't find Ilak's tunnel and he wasn't there."
" Not Ilak! Murt's! The bar!"
" Well I was heading there next but the wraith darts were already over head and I panicked..."
Lorne cleared his throat loudly, and both men's head snapped around to look at him.
" We'll discuss it later," Keb said. " Get your family down here."
Said and done, Jeth's family – a blond woman in a red skirt and white shirt that had to be his wife, a teenage boy, adolescent girl, and two more girls and another boy all under the age of twelve climbed down. Once on the floor and turned, the young eyes went immediately to the two wraith oozing puddles of black blood. The youngest child, a four year old girl, turned and buried her small face into her mother's skirt with a fearful whimper.
" That everyone?" Ronon asked. Jeth nodded nervously. Ronon brought his weapon around and turned back to the stairs. " Let's go then." And he hurried down the stairs behind Lorne. On reaching the bottom, and just before the dart to hide behind the counter, Ronon chanced a brief look outside, and saw the wraith surrounding a single wraith holding up a sparking metallic ball. Then Ronon was behind the counter with his back pressed to the smooth wood.
" We've got a problem," he growled. Lorne, inserting a new clip and panting, nodded.
" So I've noticed."
SGA
Rodney watched the last man slide himself through the trap door into what Rodney was fairly certain would be a suicide mission. But he wouldn't say anything, especially not to Sheppard. When the trap door was back to being shut, he turned to the Colonel, looking him over with a critical eye. He honestly hoped it was the weak light of the lanterns making him look worse than he really was. He was already sunken eyed and hollowed cheek, but it was appearing a hell of a lot worse as though both eyes had been bruised. He was leaning his shoulder against the wall, both arms folded tightly across his chest as though conserving warmth, and his breathing sounded uncomfortably labored.
Then there was his combination expression of pain and bone deep worry, which was the real reason Rodney said nothing about this rescue attempt for people they didn't even know. Having to stay behind was eating the Colonel alive, not because it meant he couldn't play the hero, not because he craved the action, but because he was the 'don't send a man on a mission you're not willing to go on yourself' kind of guy who really did keep his men from going on a mission he couldn't go on himself. Conflicting with that was his leave no man behind policy which included civilians, especially families, whether they knew them or not.
Actually, Sheppard had been quite rearing to go, then had taken one step forward with knees buckling and trying to take him to the ground. Teyla had had to hold him back, with Ronon, Lorne and one of the marines volunteering without question or hesitation, and Keb and some other townfolk pleading their case to come along by pointing out that Jeth would never come out from hiding to strangers. There had been no fear, only resolve, with everyone quite ready to meet whatever maker they believed in to save a man and his family.
Sheppard didn't argue with them, didn't try to talk them out of it or to talk them into letting him come. McKay liked to give Sheppard the title of idiot, but did not believe for one second that he really was. Sheppard knew good and well that he wouldn't be able to make it, and knew good and well that his desire to help could very well cost his men and the Raal men their lives. And that wasn't sitting well with the Lt. Colonel.
Sheppard cared too much, that was his problem. Lives were his responsibility, and if anyone had to die he preferred it to be himself. And nothing affected him with the force of a punch in the gut with a sledgehammer more than someone who was his responsibility dieing because of his decisions.
Rodney got Sheppard more than he let on, and the only reason he never let on was to continue having someone to vent frustrations on when that someone was being maddeningly frustrating. Rodney understanding Sheppard's reasoning didn't mean he had to like it. If calling Sheppard a fool for running head first in to danger without regard to how everyone worried when he did actually helped in saving his life, then call him a fool McKay would.
Not today, though. Well, not even lately. Rodney felt no annoyance for Sheppard's desire to wanting to take part in the rescue. Rodney chalked it up to being tired while at the same time wired, but he felt sad for Sheppard. Too much life-risking in one day for him, and it was taking it's toll.
Plus blood loss was probably not helping. Rodney would have slapped his own forehead, but was feeling rather self conscious around so many people. He went over to Sheppard, stepping behind him, pulling out his miniature flashlight and clicking it on, passing the beam down the slit in Sheppard's shirt. Rodney could feel his own blood draining from his face at the blood darkening Sheppard's already dark shirt.
" Uh, Teyla?" Rodney gulped. Teyla came up beside him with field dressings piled in her arms.
" I know," she said, taking a few hand handing them to McKay. " I do not know if we have enough. I gathered as much as I could from those present." She draped the ones she had over her shoulder in order to free her hands to pull apart the rip in John's shirt. John hissed out a breath of pain, and Rodney hissed out a breath of sympathy. The gash was deep in some parts, deep enough to show bone what with his skin being so thin and all, and was still dribbling out thin streams of blood. Rodney's gut roiled in disgust and terror, but he managed to dredge up some small comfort in knowing that the ribcage had done its job in protecting the organs.
" Colonel," Teyla said in a tight voice. " Perhaps you should sit."
John never took his eyes from the trap door as he slid to the floor in a huddle. " Yeah, maybe I should," he mumbled.
Teyla ripped the back of the shirt open the rest of the way and peeled the wet halves sticking to John's back aside. Together, they pressed the dressings over the wound, layering them on top of eachother, causing John to tense, hiss in pain, and shudder. Rodney held the dressings in place as Teyla tied them around John, going beneath the shirt. John straightened as best he could each time, which caused him even more pain, and at one point uttering a broken cry.
" Do I know you?"
Rodney snapped his head up and his gaze went past John's shoulder to the tall, broad form looming over John but staring at Rodney. Rodney swallowed. He had thought he'd been doing a fairly good job of avoiding the man. Chances were, this was Sheppard's fault for having cried out in pain and attracting attention. Okay, Rodney's fault or Teyla's for causing that pain at that moment. But like blame really mattered in the long run. What mattered was that Rodney might very well be screwed.
" Uh... know who?"
The big man rubbed his jaw slowly, thoughtfully, a face bruise free as though the bar fight had never occurred. Now if only the mind could erase such memories so perfectly.
" You. You look really familiar and it's driving me crazy. Normally I'm good at placing names to faces but..."
Rodney snapped his head down as though focusing on his simple task of holding the dressings in place, and noticed his own hand to be shaking. " Um, sorry pal, can't help you. A little busy at the moment if you can't tell."
" Oh come now. Help me out here. Your face really is familiar, I just can't remember... Hey..."
Rodney cringed.
" I do know you."
He then squeezed his eyes shut, tensing.
" Yeah. I remember. You're that drunk guy, the guy yelling about that friend who took on a hive ship or something. The one who died. You called him stupid or an idiot or something..."
At this, John's head turned to give Rodney a raised eyebrow of suspicion
" Then you jumped me. Yeah, you jumped me. You're that guy. Hey Brel, this is that guy I was telling you about."
Panic raced down Rodney's spine like electric ice, and he darted his gaze up to see another burly guy step up beside the first guy, this one rather like Bluto from Popeye, complete with the thick dark beard and beady eyes.
" Him?" Bluto asked skeptically.
" Yeah I know," said the first guy with minor disdain. " But he was affected at the time and you know what Murt's drink can do to folk."
Rodney's heart beat fit to break out of his chest. Neither over-sized farm hand was looking too happy as they looked him over, growing less happy in doing so. Rodney was very in favor of bolting when inspiration struck.
" Uh, wait. The, uh, guy I was talking about? The one who took on the hive ships. Well... guess what?" Rodney laughed hysterically. " He's not dead! This is him, right here, this is the guy." He grabbed John's head, turning it, then lifting it. " Yep, meet Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, wraith killer and hive destroyer, in the flesh and at the moment trying to bleed out. So if you don't mind, I'd really like to get back to saving my friend before he dies for real this time."
Rodney turned as much of his attention as he could back to placing and holding the dressings. There was a moment of silence, then, " You're really the man who took on a hive ship?"
McKay glanced up, just or a brief glimpse, but doing a double take at seeing John's withering gaze fixed like a laser on him over the shoulder.
" If you want to call it that?" John said, voice muffled by his shoulder.
" Well this friend of yours called you an idiot for doing so."
John's eyes narrowed. " Did he now?"
Rodney swallowed, then did what he did best – fight fire with anger. " Look I was drunk, depressed, pissed and needed to take it out on someone. All right? I didn't really mean anything by it. Okay, maybe at the time I did, but I take it all back and admit that, yes, it wasn't fair what with your not being around to defend yourself because you were a little busy being tortured and all. I'm a self-centered SOB, yadda yadda yadda so can we get over it and get on with life?"
Rodney was about to return to stopping the bleeding when he realized that John's expression had changed. The Colonel was smiling, his eyes shining with his old mischief.
" So I'm not an idiot?"
Rodney's usual irritation couldn't shine forth thanks to the relief at finally seeing what he considered to be the complete old John. But irritation still managed to nudge its way through. " No," he murmured, " but you are a jerk."
" I like you too, McKay."
Bluto gestured at Sheppard. " Need any help there?"
" More bandages would be nice," McKay said, trying to adjust the few dressings to cover all of the massive gash. Several dressings were already soaking through with blood.
Bluto turned and waved someone over. " Mria, you bring that first aid kit?"
A husky woman surrounded by four urchins parted the milling crowd. " Someone hurt?"
" This man needs some bandages. He's loosing blood."
Snapping at the kids to stay back, thus getting them to scatter over to Bluto, the big-boned woman made her way around back and gasped.
" That poor man. What happened? Actually, never mind, not important." She knelt beside Teyla, practically shoving McKay aside and back. With a glare the lady didn't even notice, Rodney stood and placed himself behind the two women. Mria set a wooden box in front of her and opened it to pull out three rolls of cloth.
" If healer Dorm were here, he'd be able to sew this up nicely. I'm sure he'd be happy to do so once this fray has ended and as long as no one else is hurt."
Teyla looked up at McKay. " We may need to if the bleeding does not slow."
Rodney nodded in agreement. Two of the dressings were sodden and starting to drip.
Mria was far superior in being gentle about wrapping on the bandages than McKay had been, with Sheppard not even flinching. Rodney's impression of her was of a tough old broad who probably had the capability of cracking a few wraith skulls before they could take her down. A mother bear protecting cubs kind of woman, but showing nothing but her motherly side as she helped Teyla with John, voicing sympathy and concern over how thin John looked, about all the scars on his back, how he was shaking, yet never asking how all these injuries – recent and old – came about. She called him 'you poor thing' and patted him lightly on the shoulder blade.
John had been right. These people really didn't deserve being punished for their leader's stupidity.
Light suddenly spilled from the trap door only to be subdued by the bodies filing down the ladder; kids first, then parents, and finally the rest with Lorne coming last. John's hand shot out to the wall to help him in his attempt to rise only to be shoved back to the floor by Mria's strong hand.
" Any problems?" John asked.
" Two wraith, sir, quickly dispatched. No one followed us but the device was found and destroyed. The wraith started spreading out and I managed to see a couple heading toward the tavern."
" I suggest we keep it down," Ronon rumbled, coming up beside Rodney. People gasped, whispers skittering through the tunnel. Then silence was slapped over everything as though someone had hit the mute button. Far above, the floorboards creaked, and heavy feet clomped, raining dust down on everyone's head. A child whimpered only to be severely shushed, and the locals moved to cower against the wall as though fearing the ceiling would come down around them. Sheppard leaned even more heavily against the cool wall, which increased his shivering. Teyla moved with muted grace from behind him to beside him and pulled him to lean against her, one arm hugging him across the shoulders.
John's head fell limply onto her shoulder, but his eyes never wavered from the trap door, and his hand shook gripping his gun.
SGA
Sereeka squinted up at the thin amber lines marking the location of the trap door in the darkness. The weak shaft barely squeezing through illuminated dust motes drifting lazily like leaves in a lake. Floorboards creaked under heavy footfalls, footfalls clunking closer, sending the dust motes into a tizzy when more dust was shaken loose to join in the cloud.
Hissing whispers and whimpers were sharp to her ears, and she spun around, eyes blazing and face contorted in anger. She stalked over to the mass of bodies slowly backing away, with some frozen in a cowering crouch against the wall.
" Do you want to die!" she hissed, barely above a whisper, but audible in the silence. " Keep quiet and do not move!" It had been a struggle keeping the people from darting deeper into the tunnel where they would have come out into the woods. It was purely all flight response with these people that shoved from their minds the very likely possibility of wraith waiting for them at the ring should they leave the safety of the tunnels to flee to another world. Sereeka's mother, standing at the forefront of the crowd and looking more nervous than terrified, had said time and again that survival was better if they stayed put rather than make a run for it. She said it only minutes before to these very people, but fear tended to make folk stupid. Sereeka's father and brother, at the rear taking up guard, were being forced to make threats to anyone who dared tried to flee.
" They are here!" A woman moaned. " They will find us."
" If you keep talking then they certainly will," snapped Sereeka's younger brother. A flickering lantern made the teenage boy's face look gaunt, and the bruise over his eye dark as though the eye were sunken. The price paid for saving lives when he'd tackled an over-sized man trying to make a break down the tunnel.
Sereeka shook her head, wondering why she had even bothered. Now she had no choice in making sure these people didn't give into their panic if she and her family were to survive themselves. But why she had herded them all into the family tunnel to begin with she couldn't fathom. They could have found their own tunnels to hunker down in.
Then, a small smile twitched at the corner of Sereeka's lips.
This was all Kace's fault. Pity was contagious.
More heavy booted feet rained down more dust, and the people shrank further into the wall. Sereeka lifted her rifle to point at the trap door, just in case...
SGA
Elizabeth didn't like guns, the way they felt, what they implied, but that didn't stop her from holding the nine mil tight enough for her knuckles to go white. She had her shoulder pressed against the cockpit wall next to the entrance, leaning just enough to see out the rear hatch to the open lawn stretching far to the mansion. Two marines were crouched by the wall of the hatch with P-90s aimed. Whenever a wraith walked by, their corpse skin and bleached hair bright against the dark green lawn, she could see the mens' bodies shift with sudden tension like tightly coiling wires. Elizabeth flinched herself, heart slamming into jackhammer speed. But it was the wraith that came close, within inches of the door, that had her heart either diving for cover into her stomach, or trying to squeeze into her throat.
Then came one who stopped, inches away, with head raised like a hound catching the scent. The marines' bodies coiled again, and Elizabeth's heart seemed to stop, her breath along with it, suspended in eternity. The wraith's head moved methodically as it searched its surroundings. It was a drone, like the others, with a mask that looked to be made of dried, decrepit flesh hiding its face. Elizabeth had never realized it before, but wraith smelled. It wasn't an overwhelming stench – or perhaps would be had she been closer – but a small breeze brought to her the faint but repugnant oder of metallic blood, decay, and sweat.
Do wraith even sweat? Or maybe it was human sweat garnered from a recent victim during a recent feeding. Elizabeth found it odd to the point of wanting to laugh hysterically the thoughts that flitted through her mind as panic tightened in her chest.
Then, finally, the wraith moved on, and everybody in the jumper sagged as they unwound, Elizabeth finally inhaling, wondering why she hadn't passed out from lack of air.
But her heart still thudded. She wanted with a desire that hurt to contact the team, see if they made it out, if they were hiding and safe. But she wasn't stupid and she had yet to ever give way to panic. So she gripped the gun until her palm ached and her hand shook, saying a mental prayer for the team's safety, and that she wouldn't have to shoot anything.
SGA
Rodney crouched, and removed his vest and jacket with a frustrating slowness as though he were moving underwater, trying to keep the material or zipper from making a sound that would give them away. Above them, the floor continued to creak, and the heavy feet thumped.
When Rodney finally had the jacket removed, he placed it over John's back, adjusting it at the shoulders so it wouldn't fall off. Teyla glanced over her shoulder, and smiled sadly at Rodney. Rodney still had his hands on John's shoulders, felt him quaking, watched his flanks expand and contract with each deep breath, and it made Rodney feel like scum. This wasn't supposed to have happened, Sheppard wasn't supposed to get hurt. Rodney had sworn they'd let nothing happen to the Colonel on the world that was so bent on killing him. And Rodney wondered if it was really the planet itself out to get Sheppard and not just Harl and that Commander guy who was probably dead.
In wider perspective, it was probably all the Colonel's fault for coming in the first place, then coming up with with that bone-headed plan that actually worked. Except how the hell were they supposed to know the wraith would show up so early, or that Gorek would take the time and die just to mete out a little revenge? John had every right to be afraid of coming back here, and if the wraith didn't take the hint and leave right this minute, then Rodney's promise would go nil, and Sheppard would end up dieing on this hell rock after all.
It was cruel. This whole stupid planet was cruel, and it made Rodney shake with rage. He was overcome by the desire to start kicking Harl into a bloody pulp, but had wits enough not to. He just needed someone to blame, and he refused to blame Sheppard, because that would just place him in line with the cruelty. So he placed blame where blame belonged, and satisfied himself picturing the many ways Harl could suffer, lingering on hustling him back down the tunnel to the mansion, and letting the wraith there pick him clean.
A moan yanked Rodney's attention to the very figure the physicist was mentally tormenting now. Harl's head rocked back and forth, and his eyes began to flutter open, his moaning growing louder, turning into incoherent words.
Rodney's whole body went ice rigid and prickled with cold terror. He opened his mouth, but only managed to emit a squeak. Good enough for Ronon to hear and quickly catch on, looking from Rodney then to Harl. Slinging his weapon over his shoulder, he practically leaped at the waking man whose eyes rounded over and mouth opened wide about to speak or cry out. He managed a small, pathetic sound before Ronon got to him, skidding behind into a crouch and clapping his big hand over the man's mouth.
Above, movement stopped.
Harl wriggled, writhed, and tried to talk through the big hand. Ronon tightened his grip on the mouth, causing Harl to squeak.
" You don't keep quiet," Ronon whispered, flat and frigid, " I'll break your neck."
Harl stopped struggling and producing pointless noise. But the movement above didn't return. Everyone went still as stone, and Rodney was certain without a doubt that every heart was pounding as hard as his own, including Sheppard's. The Colonel had lifted his head on an unsteady neck, staring at the ceiling, and turning trying to catch the smallest noise. His sunken eyes were wide in his colorless face; wide and terrified. Rodney squeezed his shoulder in part as reassurance, and in part to keep John from feeling the tremor in his own hand.
Minutes passed like hours, the silence so thick the tempered breaths seemed too loud. Lorne, the marines, and a few townsfolk had their weapons trained on the lines of light marking the trap door. More minutes past, and Rodney felt a little light headed trying to keep his breathing small and quiet.
The floor creaked, and Rodney's heart jumped, his body with it, and felt a muscle in John's shoulder twitch. Silence smothered them again, with another minute passing like an old man with arthritis shuffling across a rather large street. Another creak, another jump, then more creaks and clomps when movement resumed. It milled about above them for a moment longer until the clomping receded away back into the bar. Everyone let out a collective exhale of relief, with every body relaxing enough to let their hammering hearts descend into more tolerable thumping. Rodney felt John's shoulder muscle ease, twitches returning to all out trembling. He lightly patted John's shoulder, then rested his forehead against it, smiling and chuckling softly, a little psychotically, and glad he didn't have anything in his gut to puke up at the moment.
The sound of movement from above did not return, so several marines turned their weapons and lights in either direction of the tunnel. Time crawled by still in that old man manner, and Rodney finally took notice of the heralding effects of his hypoglycemia. He pulled his vest to him, and pulled a power bar out, putting it under his shirt as he opened it to muffle the sound. He ate with no real appetite, just necessity, so didn't finish the whole thing and stuffed the remainder into his pants pocket.
The whole time, Ronon never uncovered Harl's mouth, And Rodney honestly hoped the big man had accidentally broken the little man's jaw.
More time passed. Mria periodically lifted the jacket to check the bandages on John's back, and Teyla periodically took his pulse. His head remained resting on her shoulder, his breathing still labored and more shallow. Teyla looked back at Rodney nervously, conveying escalating to concern without words. Rodney returned the look with one of his own, imagining the myriad of infections that were probably setting in.
About an hour past – Rodney surmised – since the arrival of the wraith; probably more than an hour. John was holding his own now with nothing left that the others could do. Mria had taken to rubbing the uninjured side of John's back to increase warmth, and Teyla his arm.
Suddenly, Teyla's head shot up, glancing, and Rodney stiffened.
" Oh crap what?" he breathed. Teyla looked over her shoulder at him, and smiled.
" They are gone."
Rodney's heart lurched. " What? They are? You're sure?"
" They're presence has been growing distant, and now I can no longer sense them. So, yes, they are gone."
Rodney sighed, slumping. " Finally!"
Every head snapped his way, every eye wide, and a few glaring menacingly. Rodney, however, didn't care, and started laughing.
" No, no, no, it's all right. They're gone. We can leave."
" How do you know?" snapped Bluto.
" I have a gift that allows me to sense the wraith," Teyla explained. " And I know longer sense them. Any of them."
" She's Athosian," Kace said from where he leaned with folded arms against the wall. The panic and angered looks softened, some turning to fascinations, others understanding.
" I've heard about that gift," Mria said. " From my cousin. He's a planet hopper, you see. Does quite a bit of trading and hears quite a few tales..."
Athosian reputation may have eased fears, but everyone chose to remain cautious, sending the armed men up first led by Lorne. Ronon was still busy keeping Harl's mouth shut 'just in case' as he put it. When the all clear sounded, the women and children went up next.
One of the Raal men went over to Ronon, extending a hand down to Harl. " Chief Judge?"
Rodney prickled with sudden fear and anger. Ronon looked to Teyla, who shrugged, then nodded. Ronon released Harl, who took the man's hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. With one last uneasy look over his shoulder, Harl flashed them a superior grin, then hurried to the ladder and through the door. Rodney wanted to protest, to chew Ronon a knew one, but knew good and well that Ronon didn't have a choice with all the locals present to witness everything.
" We are so screwed," he moaned. " Unless we start back down the tunnel now..."
Teyla pulled John's arm across her shoulder. " Colonel Sheppard would not be able to make it, and Major Lorne is already outside. Contact Dr. Weir and tell her to come quickly. Perhaps sight of the jumper will keep the people from taking us." She began to rise, pulling John up with her, his head still resting on Teyla's shoulder, but raising slightly with eyes barely open. Rodney, snapping from his fury fugue, hurried over to take John's other arm. John attempted to take some of his own weight, and managed to do so a little, but his current strength wouldn't be sufficient for getting him up the ladder.
Or that's what Rodney assumed. When they came near the ladder, John moved away from the support, walking shakily but staying upright. He gripped the rungs of the ladder, shaking his head to clear it, then proceeded up, slow, unsteady, scaring the hell out of Rodney, but managing. Teyla followed behind, then Rodney, then Ronon. On nearing the top, two hands reached down and Sheppard took both to be hauled out of the hole. Teyla hurried to follow in case those hands hadn't belonged to their own people.
They had. Everyone was gathered in the large storage room, scientists and marines. The townsfolk were already outside the bar, and peering through the door to the window, Rodney could see them scattering to different buildings to spread the word. Harl remained standing in the middle of the street, staring at the bar, waiting like the leopard for the deer to emerge from the bushes.
Rodney tapped his radio. " McKay to jumper one."
The radio crackled then, " McKay, this is jumper one," came Weir's relieved voice. " Good to hear from you. Is everyone all right?"
" Yeah, we're just peachy... for now. Listen, we need you to get to the town quick, and I mean fast so that not even the inertial dampeners can stop you from feeling the Gs. We're in need of a quick exit. No time to explain."
" Understood, Weir out."
The radio fell silent at the same time Harl and several armed men began heading toward the bar. Rodney paled and backed into the room.
" All right, massive problem here. Harl's already starting the rampage." He turned to the others. " Any plans?"
The scientists exchanged fearful looks, the marines uncertain ones. Ronon brought his weapon around, as did Teyla. Sheppard, now leaning against Ronon with one arm draped across the broad shoulders, and one broad arm around John's slender waist, met Rodney's gaze. And what Rodney saw made an ice chunk form in the pit of his stomach. It was Sheppard's look of resolve, of finality; scared, but ready to do what he had to if it meant everyone else's survival. Rodney hated that look, but more than that it shattered his heart. There was more fear to it than usual, more sorrow. But the resolve held out.
Besides, chances were John would be dead before anything could be done to him. His current state had him looking frail enough to snap if Ronon increased the pressure around John's waist.
" Nothing elaborate people, the jumper'll be here any minute now."
Kace, relaxed, nonchalant, looked around, then started forward, brushing past Rodney to step out into the bar. " Just head on out."
Rodney whirled around. " What!"
Kace hopped over the counter, sliding partially across it to the other side, then turning to face McKay, giving him a wink. " Trust me, Doc McKay. We'll be fine."
Rodney turned back to the others, hoping they shared in his sentiment that Kace was nuts. They seemed to, except for Sheppard who was grinning.
" Trust him, McKay."
Rodney rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, then closed them, swallowing back the welling spring of panic turning his insides cold. " We are so dead."
So they headed out, moving around the bar and tables, then stepping out into the warm sunshine and dusty street already dotted with people emerging from the tunnels. A lot of people, with a large cluster behind Harl who had stopped and backed away just as the Lanteans stepped out.
" That is them. Take them. They must be put under restraint for nearly bringing harm to my person."
Kace waved dismissively as he continued out into the street. " Ease up, your judgeship. If we wanted to bring harm, you'd be wraith lunch by now."
Harl smiled bitterly and shook his head. " A lie. You were going to kidnap me, bring me to your world for torment." He then turned, facing the slowly gathering crowds. " These people are the reason the wraith had come. They were the ones who called to them, bringing them to this world in exchange for the safety of their own world. Only they became trapped here when the wraith appeared early. They wanted you all dead, and only my quick action saved you when I managed to reach the alarm before they could destroy it. They are traitors, back stabbers, and must be punished!"
Whispers skittered over the crowd with uncertain faces looking into uncertain faces. Rodney shot a withering look at Kace.
" We'll be fine?" he ground out between gritted teeth.
Kace, still all smiles, raised a placating hand. " Ease up, Doc McKay. Just wait, just wait."
" If they're so friendly with the wraith," came a woman's voice within the crowd, " why didn't they give us up in the tunnel to save their own hide?"
Harl's smirk never wavered. " Because wraith don't make deals. They would have killed them as well."
" Then why did they risk their lives to save my brother," said Keb, stepping from the crowd, Jeth beside him. " Why'd they give us the means, the help?"
" Yeah," jumped in Jeth. " My family and I would have been culled if it hadn't been for them."
Now Harl's smile did waver, because he didn't have the mental capacity for the cleverness it would take to come up with a believable lie.
" Uh..." Harl stammered. " Does it matter?" he finally bellowed. " They tried to kill me. I want them restrained!"
" I think it does matter," said a female voice, and a young woman in a maroon skirt stepped from the crowd, her arms folded tight across her chest and her eyes narrowed dangerously at Harl. " It's always been my impression that most folk from other worlds aren't very inclined to help those who aren't one of them unless they wish something in return." The girl then turned to face the Lanteans expectantly.
It was Teyla who responded. " We want nothing except to return home and save our friend," she said. " He has been severely injured and needs immediate medical attention. Please, do not prevent us from doing this. He will not survive for much longer."
Sheppard's crappy appearance was coming in handy, as several faces – women for the most part, young women and many more of the motherly persuasion – softened into looks of pity.
Kace leaned in a little toward Rodney. " Gotta love pity," he murmured, and Rodney was inclined to agree with him.
Harl's smile was gone, replaced by a frown, with his face turning a lovely shade of rouge. " They are dangerous!" he shrieked. " You cannot believe anything they tell you! It is a ploy to save their own hide! They will bring the wraith back upon us the moment they are gone!"
The girl gave Harl a kind of 'what the hell you moron' look that impressed Rodney.
" Except that if we wanted you dead, you'd be dead," John said suddenly, straightening as much as he could but still leaning heavily against Ronon. " We knew about the tunnels, Harl, or we wouldn't have been able to find yours. If we'd wanted the wraith to wipe you out, then we would have told them about the tunnels. You'd be dead by now, all of us would be. So I suggest you quit while you're ahead here. You're just digging your own grave."
Rouge deepened to purple, and Harl's mouth worked up and down like a gasping fish. " They... They were going to kill me..." he tried, lamely.
" And yet you're still alive," John growled in disgust. " When we could have just left you to the wraith, we had to drag your whiny ass all the way with us, only to have you nearly give us away."
Harl blinked rapidly with mouth still working. Then in a last ditch effort, he pointed a rigid, shaking finger at John. " He... he's an escaped convict." Then moved his finger to Kace. " They both are!"
He was met with silence say for a cough and dirt scraping from someone shifting.
Then the girl rolled her eyes. " You're a fool, Harl. Besides, why should we believe anything else you have to say? Personally, I have yet to hear a single truth from you."
Several murmured in agreement.
" When my son was released from his ten day confinement," piped a woman, " you said he got the bruises from a fellow inmate, but he says he was in a cell alone."
" You gave me a month in prison for a fight," said a man, " and I know I was only supposed to get a week."
" You're useless Harl," said another man. " You put my brother away even with proof that he hadn't been the one to take that wagon."
More murmurs of agreement, with several waving their hands in dismissal and beginning to depart. The crowd began to disperse, leaving Harl purple faced and gaping with his jaw nearly to the ground.
" Plus that man took on a wraith hive ship," added the familiar voice of Rodney's bar fight victim, before he also moved on.
Harl searched around for a modicum of support.
" Just give it up," John said, his voice weakening and his legs shaking. " You're screwed. Your thugs are probably all culled, and no one wants you around. I'd slink off before we decide to spread a little rumor concerning who really brought the wraith."
That was enough for Harl, and he took off running up the street with the hem of his robe raised.
The girl, still lingering, looked from Harl's retreating form to the assembled Lanteans. " Brought the wraith?"
Kace lifted one shoulder. " No worries about that. It's not really important not anymore." Kace then walked up to the girl, and the two embraced. " Good to see you survived Ser."
" Same here, Kace." She released him to lean to the side and regard the Lanteans carefully, John particularly. " I thought you were going to ditch him once you left him some place safe?" She then did a small wave. " Hi Sheppard."
John, smiling, waved weakly back. " Hi Sereeka."
" You're appearance still isn't up to pleasant but I must say your sanity is an improvement."
" You should see me when I am up to pleasant..." his legs gave way then, and Telya moved fast to take his other arm and pull him back up, John's head struggling to stay upright on his weak neck.
" I think that's our cue to depart," Kace said. " I'll drop by when things are a little less frantic. Besides, our ride's waiting."
He turned, facing up the street, and sure enough there stood Weir flanked by two marines, probably only a foot from the cloaked jumper. The Atlanteans moved as one toward the jumper with Teyla and Ronon going first. Elizabeth stepped aside, staring at John's limp form with her face going white, then following after. Everyone piled into the jumper, the marines coming last. The bay doors whined shut, and the jumper quickly left the ground, rising up above the town and surrounding trees. Ronon and Teyla set John chest down on the bench, pulling away Rodney's now blood-stained jacket to see most of the bandages to be nearly soaked.
" What happened?" Elizabeth's voice cracked when she spoke.
" Last minute attack," Ronon succinctly explained.
" Tell jumper two to dial Atlantis," Lorne called to the pilot, who nodded in return.
Elizabeth squeezed her way through the crowded compartment to be at John's head where she knelt. " John?"
John's head moved just a fraction to look up at Weir. He smiled wanly. " Hey."
Elizabeth swallowed tightly and forced a tremulous smile of her own. " You weren't supposed to get hurt, John."
John attempted a shrug, and clenched, hissing in pain. " Ah crap I know. Story of my life really. Stuff happens, you know. Wouldn't be a mission without an injury."
Elizabeth shook her head. " I knew I shouldn't have listened to you."
" Yeah," John said, laughing nervously. " I shouldn't have listened to me either."
SGA
A/N: One chapter and an epilogue remaining then... it's (sniff) over. (sniff)
