Finally updated! Whoo!
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Eight years later…
It was late, John knew he probably should have left the bar a little earlier, but his hotel room, although it did have cable, didn't have the particular channel he had wanted to watch. The bar he had been at, besides being a little grungy, had actually been quite nice. It served ice cold beer and had the channel appropriate for watching American football while in Budapest. Plus, they even played it at a reasonable volume.
The only big problem, really, had been the time difference, which was why Lt Colonel John Sheppard was making his way back to his hotel room at 3am, despite the fact that his presence would be required at a conference in the morning (not him, really, just his presence).
He, Elizabeth and Rodney had come for a diplomatic mission back to Earth, to explain to some of the other countries involved the importance of the Atlantis Expedition, the Stargate Program and, most importantly, their continued support. Not only was Dr Elizabeth Weir one of the Earth's foremost experts in the realm of negotiation, but she, Rodney and John all had first hand experience of life on Atlantis, and all of them had lived and worked with dozen upon dozens of people from various different countries.
The last time he had been here, John recalled as he began the five block trek back to his hotel ( it wasn't really far enough to require a taxi, besides, the walk would do him good), had been about eight years previous. He had only been a captain then, before his black mark, but even so there had already been a lot of people telling him that he was at the peak of his career and that he should enjoy it while it lasted.
Humming something that sounded suspiciously like "Walk the Line", by Johnny Cash, he stuck his hands in his pockets and took in the sites the very gothic-styled city had to offer. John felt slightly defenceless without his P-90, or at least his side-arm. This is Earth, he reminded himself, no wraith here. You don't need to be constantly alert and constantly armed here. "Oh, if that were true," he said wryly to himself.
A sound startled him out of his reverie. Jumping slightly, he drew his attention over to where the noise had come from. It was just been a cat knocking over a rubbish tin, he thought with relief. That was, until he realised that a rubbish tin being knocked over was absolutely nothing like the sound he had heard. Shit.
The sound came again, just a little bit louder this time, letting him know he was walking in the general direction of the source. John saw a rather wide, dark alley between two buildings to be the source of the eerie sound. It sounded a lot like a scuffle, but there was something different – unnatural - about it. Peering cautiously down the alley he saw about half a dozen large, menacing shapes congregated around a tiny human figure which being pinned to the wall at the end of the alley by one of the creatures. Quick as a flash one of the number took a swipe at the human figure, who moved it's head at the last second, leaving the large paw to make a solid connect with the brick wall. To John's surprise, the paw went almost straight through.
Damnit! What is that thing! It was as strong as a wraith and just a fast. That's irony for you!
He collected himself quickly, trying to figure out the best course of action to take. He had to help whoever it was that was being attacked by these creatures, he knew. He also knew that he would stand about as much of a chance with these things as he did of finding a nice, friendly wraith to have a happy chat with.
Edging into the alley, Sheppard gladly noted that the creatures paid him no heed, instead focussing on their prey. He may not have been carrying a gun with him, but being military commander of Atlantis, he knew to never go anywhere completely un-armed. Drawing out a steel shanghai (slingshot), he pulled out a couple of Britannia silver ball bearings (his ammunition of choice. Regular ball bearings just didn't have the weight ratio he desired, and Britannia silver ones didn't cost much extra, even if they were sometimes a little harder to find than steel) and loaded it into the sling. Pulling back on the rubbers with practised ease, John drew the loaded pocket back to his cheek and released it with an exhale.
The small projectile found its mark, hitting a medium sized creature at the base of it's throat. The thing yelped in pain and turned it's menacing gaze on him, as did three of the other creatures, leaving two to guard their first prize.
Since there was obviously no route of escape available, John took the time to study his potential attackers. They were large, slightly wolfish, and very mean looking, with very large talons that looked to be also quite sharp, as well as large, sharp looking teeth. Add to that the fresh blood dripping from their muzzles, and these creatures were certainly up there with the Wraith on John's 'Damn Freakiest Things I've Ever Seen' list.
The closest thing he could think to describe them as was 'werewolves'. But that was just preposterous…unless you considered the fact that he was currently in holiday in Budapest to attend an international conference about the lost city of Atlantis, which was really in the Pegasus galaxy and constantly being hunted by vampiric aliens that sucked the life out of you with their hands. When you put it that way, not so preposterous to consider werewolves being real.
The creature he had struck with the bearing stalked forward, bearing is overly large canine teeth at him with a menacing growl. Gulping slightly, John fired another bearing at the creatures, this time striking one of the two that were still focussed on the person pinned against the wall, which he could now see was a teenage girl looking slightly scared. Firing off a few shots in quick succession, Sheppard managed to not only get the attention of all six beasts, but also managed to make them extremely pissed off and no doubt vengeful. Great work John, what are you gonna do for a finale? Salt, pepper and marinate?
The beast he had first hit finally pounced, pinning him viciously against the side of the alley, its large talons slicing straight through flesh and tendons. He could almost feel the claws as struck his collarbone on his left side. Luckily the other paw hadn't had such a direct hit and was only creating a flesh wound on his right shoulder.
John's head was bursting with the sudden surge of pain the impact created, crying out in pain as his vision began swimming ominously.
Apparently, though, the lean girl had a bit more to her than it seemed at first glance. Utilising the distraction John had given, she quickly went about taking out the creatures. By the time the rest of them realised what had happened, she had already taken down two.
Dropping John roughly to the ground, the other four beasts turned their attention back to the more imminent threat. As he made contact with the ground, John fell into a small forward somersault army-roll, as was second nature to him, even when wounded.
Blood was staining his trusty black shirt and already beginning to seep through his warm jacket. Focussing as hard as he could on staying conscious at least long enough to improve his chances of survival, he took stock of anything that might be of use to him. Thanking any deities that might have been listening, he snatched up a small semi-automatic berretta lying discarded on the ground and, pushing the pain to the back of his mind as best he could, checked the magazine. Almost full. About time I had some luck like this.
Aiming to kill, John took off the safety and pulled the trigger with the ease of an accomplished marksman. Shooting until the target he had chosen fell limply to the ground, he then set his sites on another of the creature sand shot again. The girl had apparently been a hell of a lot stronger than he would have given anyone credit for, as she finished by snapping the neck of the last beast, albeit panting heavily and drenched in sweat.
By this stage John was already feeling very light-headed and woozy. He hadn't had that much to drink, had he? Oh, that's right, it was blood-loss, not drunkenness that was making him feel that way, he thought glumly. Pity, because drunkenness is a hell of a lot more enjoyable than blood-loss.
"Are you alright?" the girl asked, rushing over to where he was slumped on his side, the gun hanging limply in his hand.
"Shouldn't-shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" he breathed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds and willing the world to stop spinning. The girl peeled back his jacket and gasped.
"Shit. You need medical attention now." She said, ripping some of her coat off and using it to apply pressure to the wound. She helped him up carefully and helped him to walk, letting him lean heavily against her as his vision continued swaying like a palm tree caught in crosswinds. "I'll take you to my house, it's not far from here. My parents will know what do to," she cursed under her breath again. "You just need to stay awake, okay? Dad used to be a doctor, he aught to know how to patch you up – hey! I said to stay awake!" she slapped his face a few times gentle until he squinted his eyes open wearily. "Come on, just stay awake, please. Besides, you can't leave me to carry you all the way to my apartment. Talk to me, what's your name? Where are you from, are you local or visiting?"
"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, United State Air Force," he slurred out, digging through the haze that clouded his mind.
"Good, good, keep talking. Air Force, you say? You fly planes?"
"I fly anything," he managed with a cocky smile, a faraway look drifting across his face.
She only smiled worriedly in return and continued her attempt to keep him awake and talking, "so you fly anything, ey? Well, how are you liking Budapest?"
"Not bad," he said, his speech increasingly slurred, "although I don't care much for the native wildlife."
"I'd assume so – turn right here – personally I'm not a big fan of them either. Up these stairs, carefully now," she muttered, directing him into a small but neat looking apartment building, and eventually bringing him over to a door and knocking. "We're here, and dad should be home, he should be able to patch you up." Or at least she hoped he could. She really did.
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Sorry it took so long for me to update, I'm really bad at that sort of thing. Anyhow, what do you guys think? Also, you guys can decide what happens now – should John be able to heal just fine, or should he have to get bitten in order to survive? Or, should something entirely different happen? Review and tell me what you think. Everyone's opinion is welcome, as is constructive criticism. And just to note, I have no Beta, so all mistakes are a direct result of my own stupidity, and/or lack of coffee intake. Anyway, good, bad or downright ugly, review and let me know!
Ciao
