Understudy

Author: Cheryl W.

Author Notes: Sending much love to my reviewers! And also much appreciation to those reading silently alone at home.

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Chapter 20: Shared Fate

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In response to the blocked return to the way they'd come, Tyre roughly deposited John onto the ground to lean against a still mostly intact wall. For John's part, he didn't mind Tyre's wishy washy directives. Get up, sit down, turn yourself all around. Had the "we all fall down" nailed.

Instinctively knowing time was running out on their chances of escaping the building with their lives, Tyre feverishly began working to move the debris in their path. Swore as the tremors continued and the movement resealed the holes he kept making into the wall of rubble. Knew they needed help and that lay, not in Ara, who he knew, in the darkest realistic parts of himself, would leave him for dead. That her loyalty, it was to the ideal of Sateda, not him, not even the reality of what Sateda had become. Could ever be again.

No, if help were to come it would be from Ronon. And he knew that too wasn't out of Ronon's loyalty to him. That loyalty had somehow been gnawed away in Ronon's drive for revenge, was obvious when he had left them behind, amid one of their bloodiest battles to seek out Kell and take his life. Revenge meant more to Ronon then any human bonds. Or had. But somehow this man, this Sheppard, had brought back to life the man Tyre had once trusted with his life, trusted to seek what was right for his entire planet.

Ronon would come for John Sheppard. Would kill…would even die for this man. Part of Tyre wanted to rage against that betrayal, to ask what made this man so special that he won what Tyre had lost. And then, unknowingly, Sheppard provided the answer.

"Here, take my sensor. See if you can go the opposite way in this corridor and find a way out," John said, holding out the Ancient sensor that scanned the structure as they traversed through it to form a building schematic. From their current location, John could only see a small grid of the building but trusted it to lead Tyre to an alternate route out of the collapsing building.

"Go…without you?" Tyre posed in disbelief.

"I'll slow you down. Besides, Ronon will come for me." Of that John knew for a certainty.

Sheppard's conviction hurt Tyre, especially in light of the certainty that Ronon would never again risk his life for his. Said out of spite, "And if Ronon's already dead." Saw the flash of pain and fear in Sheppard's eyes but the man shrugged, gave a smirk.

"Shared fate seemed inevitable with Ronon and me. Have to say I pictured us fighting not buried in sand…." more quietly he concluded, "…and side by side. But.." gave a sorrowful small smile, "…sometimes you get what you deserve in life, right?"

Stunned by Sheppard's selflessness and his self-loathing, Tyre was about to rebuke him for both when a muffled call came from the other side of the walled in corridor.

"Sheppard! John! Can you hear me!?"

At Ronon's voice, Tyre looked to Sheppard, his turn for a little bit of a bittersweet smirk to turn up his lips. "Yeah, sometimes you do get what you deserve," because even he realized now that John deserved loyalty, even his former best friend's loyalty over him. He stepped close to the rubble and replied to Sheppard's worried best friend, "He's ok!"

But Tyre's reassurance meant nothing, only sent greater fear spiking through Ronon's veins because John wasn't making that claim himself. "John?! Talk to me!" he fearful insisted as he began digging and dislodging the rubble standing in his way to reach his adopted brother.

Hearing the panicked edge to Ronon's voice, John croaked out "Alive…" but knew he had to be louder. Tried again, called out, "Alive…like promised." Made an effort to get up, do his part to get them out of there but only ended up coughing hard enough to bow him over and curl up against the wall.

Ronon's heart swelled at the sound of John's voice, and his smile was evident in his command to "Stay that way!" Smiled broader at John's comeback of "Right back at ya." Felt like they were invincible together with their shared stubbornness…right until he pulled on the wrong section of rubble a moment later and the ceiling over his head creaked and threatened to bury them for good.

Using his height to good advantage, Ronon flew his hands up to support the cracking ceiling, felt his muscles scream at the strain. "Tyre, the ceiling on my side is going to come down. Get John back and find another way out."

"No way!" John protested, weakly pushing off the wall to regain his feet which was a futile effort when the ground shook hard and sent him again to his knees. Tyre hit the opposite wall but kept his feet. "Ronon? Ronon?!" John screamed, crawling for the wall that separated him from the man who trusted him like no one ever had before, who made him think just maybe his past sins didn't defile every corner of his soul making him unredeemable.

Tyre, knowing John's intent was to try and smash through the wall without considering they might dismantle the ceiling over their heads as well, shouted "No!" as he grabbed John by the left arm, holding him back from the wall. Started to pull Sheppard back down the corridor as Ronon instructed but Tyre was the one who staggered back, not from another tremor but from the bone rattling force of Sheppard's powerhouse right cross.

Effecting his release from Tyre, John went back to the wall of rubble separating him from Ronon. Growled to the man on the other side, "Ronon, that promise you made me vow, it goes both ways! You wanna lay down and die here, then you're making that decision for the both of us." Heard Satedan curses heaped liberally on his head. "So you decide: we both live today..or we both die in this damn sand that you know how much I hate." When there was no reply, John felt panic coil around his gut, thought he'd certainly would have heard it if Ronon's ceiling had caved in on him. "Ronon?!"

Laboring to keep the ceiling from falling on his head, Ronon wished he had a hand free…so he could punch something, maybe even John. Because this so wasn't their deal! "That wasn't our deal!" he bellowed, his stress level skyrocketing with John obstinately vowing to tie his fate with his own. Now, when things were looking so grim for his survival.

Sinking his head against the wall in relief at hearing Ronon's voice, that he was still alive over there, John called out without an ounce of repentance, "It was always my deal." His fingers felt along the rubble separating him from Ronon, wished he had x-ray vision and could see his best friend on the other side. "Me and sand, it's a cursed combination. Guess I should have stressed that."

Objecting to John laying any blame on his own shoulders for their current situation, Ronon scoffed, "Cursed, huh? Now you're talking nonsense like Kavanagh."

"Ouch, way to insult a man already wounded," John retorted at being lumped in with their least favorite member of Atlantis, but he couldn't help smiling at Ronon's version of a pep speech.

But Ronon's comeback was sharp, "Wounded?! How bad? Why didn't you tell me?"

John looked to Tyre, gave an exaggerated eyeroll like a kid with an embarrassingly overprotective mom who was making a scene. "Think we have other topics that seem more relevant. Like, I don't know, getting out of this sandy death trap."

"If I didn't have to hold the ceiling up, could dig from my side…" Ronon's frustration loud and clear.

"I'll work from this side," Tyre offered, tentatively shifting some of the rubble again, giving an apprehensive look at the ceiling overhead with nearly every move.

"I'll help," John offered but received two resounding "NO!"s from both sides of the cave-in. "I can't just sit on my hands!" John growled. But he ruined the effect of strong indignation by being overtaken by a hacking fit that robbed him of nearly every inch of air in his lungs and he felt blackness edging his vision. Heard his name being shouted but it was muffled, like his head was underwater. Then a hand was pounding him on the back, loosening the congestion blocking his airflow. He lost a little time after that, woke up on the ground a feet away from the rubble wall.

Rolling onto his side, Sheppard watched Tyre meticulously pushing or pulling on different sections of the rubble, saw he had garnered a small hole in the wall for his efforts. John didn't know how long he'd been out but felt guilty for being useless. Using his hand, he levered himself up to a sitting position, braced his arm against his ribs that were spiking his every nerve with pain. "Sorry for taking an unauthorized break." Tyre's head swiveled around when he spoke and the Satedan sent an assessing look to Sheppard. It made John feel even more vulnerable so he quipped, "Not sure how the labor law works on this planet, might need to schedule a meeting with my union rep if you're thinking of firing me."

Though he kept looking at Sheppard, Tyre's words were clearly not for the other man. "He seems to think he's saying something funny but I can't find the humor..or the sense in his words."

Ronon snorted, the sound a little less muffled as it drifted through the hole Tyre had made in the cave-in. "He tells me he's hilarious…on his planet."

"And we believe that?" Tyre challenged but he gave a wink to John and turned back to his task.

"The others from his planet haven't convinced me of that," Ronon quirked back, felt better when a moment later he was treated to Sheppard's lively offended comeback.

"McKay doesn't count. He thinks only math jokes are funny," Sheppard protested. But then something occurred to him. "Did I miss more tremors or are they over?"

"Unknown but I'm hoping they are over..for now," Tyre answered.

John understood Tyre's prudence on putting a time limit on their good fortune. "Yeah, they might come in waves. Yarvell was killed in a cave-in maybe a few days ago but when we first arrived on the planet there were no tremors."

"Yarvell was killed..here?" Ronon thought of how certain he had been that Tyre and the others had killed the man. Couldn't entertain the possibility that they might not be the murderous bastards his "friends" had been.

"Yeah, we found his body in the other end of this hallway," John provided pointedly, knowing along the lines Ronon was thinking. "How are things on your side, Ronon?"

"Just great," Ronon sarcastically replied, wasn't sure how long he could keep his arms up and consequently the ceiling. Had been at it at least fifteen minutes and his arms were starting to tremble, badly. His head snapped over his shoulder as Ara spoke behind him.

"Should have known you'd be showing off your assets instead of being useful," she joked, read the surprise…and distrust in Ronon's eyes at her appearance. Clearly Ronon knew that she could easily take the thumbdrive now because he wouldn't dare lose his grip on the ceiling to stop her.

Ducking under his raised arms, she patted him on the chest and winked, said quietly, "You always knew how to get me to go running down the throats of hell," alluding to his peptalk. "Seems you still have that talent." Then she turned to the wall, began to pull out debris to widen the hole Tyre had dug from his side.

Relieved that they had help, Ronon prayed his strength held out and that their combined efforts didn't collapse the building around their heads. Especially John's head. Long minutes later, when Ronon's arms were past the trembling stage and were all out shaking, a hole big enough for John and Tyre to hopefully crawl through was achieved.

Going to Sheppard, Tyre gently pulled the injured man to his feet, didn't miss his wince of pain but couldn't do anything about it. Wrapping his arm around John's waist, he helped him to the hole. John crawled over the rubble, through the hole and dropped to the ground on the other side.

Ronon had rarely felt so much like crying out of happiness than he did seeing John topple onto the ground on his side of the cave-in. On the ground, John looked up at him and, amid his sand covered hair and face, the idiot gave Ronon a blazing smile, like they weren't still a breath away from dying.

By the time Tyre got to the other side, Ara was helping Sheppard to his feet and supporting him as they made their way down the hallway. Tyre offered a mocking smirk to Ronon's sweat covered face. "Still impressing the ladies with your muscles." Shook his head. "And here I thought you'd gone and changed altogether on me." Then he was moving down the hallway, stopped a few feet back. "We're clear. Time to make a run for it."

With his back to the others, Ronon called out, "John, don't stop. Keep heading down the hallway because when I let this go…we don't know how much of the ceiling will cave in."

"Then you better move your butt, right?" John needed Ronon to understand he expected him to save himself, that nothing less than that would be acceptable to him.

"Right," Ronon agreed, gave John what he wanted, needed to hear. "So go…or I'll run right by you and leave you eating my dust," he taunted the wounded man in a sally worthy of John himself, who laughed at Ronon's threat.

"You're just still sore I won our last race a week ago," John taunted. "Ego can't handle defeat so you're trying to reclaim the crown when your opponent's the walking wounded. Nice, real nice, Ronon."

"We'll do a rematch when we get home, see who's the real champion," Ronon vowed, knew it wasn't a pledge about a race but to survive, to go home again.

"Yes, we will," Sheppard returned vow for vow, only then allowed Ara and Tyre to each draw one of his arms over their shoulders and start to rapidly move him down the hallway.

"Go, now, Ronon!" Tyre commanded, couldn't resist looking over his shoulder, watched Ronon drop his arms and make a giant leap in their direction simultaneous. Then there was the roar of the ceiling caving in and building debris and sand filling the air blocking his view of Ronon.

"Ronon!" John anxiously called out, wished he could look behind him, be certain that Ronon wasn't buried back there and the Satedans weren't forcing him to leave his brother behind.

Tyre saw a shape burst through the cloud of debris and use his freakishly long legs to close in the distance between them. Knowing Ronon's intentions, Tyre slipped his hold free of Sheppard and Ronon was instantly there, taking Sheppard's weight…and the wounded man's wellbeing into his own hands. Ronon shot a look to Ara across Sheppard and she too released her hold on the man. Then it was the Atlanteans leading the charge down the hallway.

Even running for their lives, John couldn't help looking to Ronon to reassure himself his friend was there, with him, and whole. Though he looked a lot like a juicy sandy Wookie with the ship's ceiling material and the sand coating nearly every part of him, Ronon was one of the best sights John had seen in his lifetime. His joy and relief almost took his mind off the pain he was in. Almost.

Sensing his friend's pain, Ronon slowed their pace down to a hurried walk as they came to the juncture again and chose the way out of the building. Stopping altogether as they reached the door, he leaned John against the wall, knew they all needed to gear up for stepping out into the wicked environment of the planet.

Preparing for the weather onslaught outside, John fumbled to get his kerchief up and the goggles on but even that exertion was draining him, making his arms too heavy to barely lift. Wasn't surprised when Ronon's big but gentle hands pushed his aside and pulled up his kerchief. Ronon blew on his goggles to try and dislodge some of the sand before settling them over John's eyes. John said nothing during this, too busy breathing heavily from their run and too exhausted to protest the babying.

Satisfied John was protected from the outside elements, Ronon pulled on his own protective face gear, turned to see Tyre and Ara were set too. In vain he wished they didn't have a tortuous sandy trek to traverse back to the ship but knew he'd carry John if he had to. Regardless of the man's protests.

Opening the door, the wind zinged sand against them in punishing force. Undeterred, Ronon and John stumbled out against the gale…and came up short. Directly ahead was a ten story dune..that hadn't been there when they entered the building.

"Shifting sand with the tremors," Tyre explained unnecessarily.

Ronon felt like screaming. How was he supposed to get John up that?! And by the looks of it, it was all loose sand. And going around it…how long would that take?! And would Rakai even be there waiting where they'd left him? Or had he bailed for his own survival. Or had the ship been damaged in the tremors and they all were they going to die on this planet after all.

Was the only deal, the last deal that he and John were ever going to make, their pact to die together?

"Starting to believe me that I'm cursed by sand?" John bitterly quipped at Ronon's side as they stood at the threshold of a crumbling building and at the foot of an impassable sand dune.

But Ronon raged against the sand beating them, would fight with everything he had to not let this planet, this mission, take Sheppard's life. Was about to say that when static came through Tyre's communication device.

Pulling it from his jacket and putting it close to his ear to hear above the din of the wind and blowing sand, Tyre shouted, "Come again!" through his kerchief.

It was muffed but distinguishable: Rakai's voice. His words were not so easily discernable. "So…th. Go…so.."

"Repeat! Rakai, say that again?" Tyre demanded but there was only static in reply.

Thinking he knew Rakai's message, Ronon gave John into Ara's support, ordered Sheppard in his best authoritative tone, "Stay here" before fully stepping out of the building. Edging along the building, he headed south. He was going against the wind and the sand was back to stinging like a thousand shards of glass but as he saw around the corner…he smiled behind his kerchief. The ship was there, and Rakai was waving at him from the cockpit window to come.

In that moment, Ronon knew he had never liked Rakai better…in this world or even his own.

Ronon felt a little like sinking down in the sand in weak kneed relief because John wasn't going to die today, he wasn't going to fail him..or lose him today. And the surprisingly thing about it was, Ronon had his Satedan comrades to thank for that.

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TBC

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I think there will be one more part to go.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day.

CherylW.