Chapter 11
Rodney and Zanta had gained an escort in the form of Breckna, his two security guards and Dennet, all of them rather subdued at having been running in circles while a certain Dr McKay effected a heroic rescue. He had taken charge and begun to lead them out, but they had instead emerged from a tunnel to see the inclined plane of an underground railway, and then to witness the comprehensive destruction of the Getter leader by the red blast of an energy weapon followed by his consumption by the inexorable progress of the great toothed cog beneath the climbing truck. A fitting end, Rodney thought.
The owner of the energy weapon stood before him in the lantern light, grinning tiredly, and Rodney grinned back and almost relinquished his hold on Zanta's waist and hugged his friend. But then a pounding of ballast was followed by a sobbing cry, and Ronon was engulfed in Teyla's arms, her head buried beneath his hair. His arms enfolded her and there were murmured apologies and reassurances and, no doubt, declarations of undying loyalty until Rodney was rolling his eyes with impatience.
"We still haven't found Sheppard!"
Teyla broke away from Ronon, wiping her eyes. "He is on the platform, Rodney. Down there."
"Franks 'n' Griffin are down there too," said Ronon.
"What's Sheppard up to? What's he done to himself this time? What about Jordan and Bell?"
"They're dead," Ronon said, bluntly.
"I believe we can easily find the way out from here," announced Breckna.
"Yes, I'm sure," Rodney said, dismissively. "Come on, Zanta, I'm going to find Sheppard!" Her hand in one firm grip, the lantern in the other, he began to make his stumbling way down the side of the track. "What we need is some proper food and some proper light," he grumbled, stumbling in the rolling ballast, and tripping over the end of a sleeper. "And some smooth walking surfaces wouldn't go amiss. With transporters for long distances."
"And your friends around you?" suggested Zanta.
"Yes, or at least, back where they belong. Teyla pummelling Ronon in the gym, me in my lab doing something of intergalactic importance, and Sheppard lolling about avoiding paperwork, knowing him!"
"Sounds good, McKay!" The voice came from the huddle of slumped shapes on the platform.
Rodney hopped up onto the surface, helping Zanta up after him. He looked down at his team leader.
"Correction: make that Sheppard lolling about in the infirmary!"
"I'm okay, Rodney," drawled John. "We're just waiting here for the next train to Atlantis."
"Where do we buy tickets?" Ronon asked.
John turned and looked at him. "Thought I heard the dulcet tones of an energy weapon, Chewie," he said. "Nice timing."
Rodney watched for the classic Teyla eye-roll at her friends' battened-down emotions; he wasn't disappointed. "Ah! Together again!" he said, with satisfaction.
"Not Jordan and Bell, though," said John. There was silence and the two surviving teammates shuffled closer together, shivering. Teyla pulled out an emergency blanket from her vest, shook it out and wrapped it around Captain Bell. Rodney did the same for Griffin.
"Touching as this may be, I am a busy man and it's time I returned to my pressing affairs!" Breckna said, importantly.
"Your affairs can wait!" said Zanta, sharply. "We need to help these people return home!"
"Yes, we can go home, Sheppard! We have the Gate crystals!"
"That's great, Rodney. Wish they could send a Jumper." John's head drooped and Zanta took off the jacket that her doorman had draped over her shoulders and wrapped it round him instead. There followed a rush from Breckna and his guards to be the first to offer Zanta some warmer covering but Breckna's smug expression fell when he won the race only to have Zanta remove his luxurious coat and offer it to Ronon, who took it gratefully.
"Thank you, Hal, Fenti," Zanta said, putting on both of their jackets to forestall any further arguments. "Now, please assist Dr Griffin and Sergeant Bell! Dennet, help the Colonel. We have a long way to walk!"
"I'm okay," John said, waving Dennet away. "Ronon?"
Ronon shrugged. "Good enough."
"Oh, will you just listen to the hard men!" said Rodney. "I guess I should be skipping along then, having been merely punched in the guts, half choked and then used the back of my head to break some goon's nose!"
"Nice one!" said Ronon.
"Thank you!" said Rodney. "I was rather proud of that particular move!"
"John, allow Dennet to help you!" Teyla ordered.
John, grumbling, submitted, and for a moment, Rodney thought Dennet would scoop up his sagging team leader and hurl him over one shoulder. However, he just pulled John's uninjured arm around his neck and they followed Breckna back along the main tunnel. Zanta remained at Rodney's side, ushering the two security men with the rescued team members ahead of her.
"Thank you," said Rodney.
"What for?"
"For going after Sheppard," he said. They left the platform behind and followed the bedraggled party. "And for not throwing us out when I didn't believe you about Breckna. I still don't like him, though!"
She smiled. "He is rather pompous," she whispered. "And, yes, sometimes rude. But he can be kind, in his way. He looks after his clan."
"Hm, maybe. His snacks were revolting, although, thinking about it, maybe that should have been a clue."
"How so?"
"Well, the Getter cookies were full of lovely white flour and sugar and delicious decadence, whereas presumably that seaweed-tasting stuff is actually good for you."
"Very," she said.
"So, in future, I'm going to snack first and ask questions later."
She squeezed his arm and he wondered if she'd be a part of that future.
oOo
It was a long way to the Gate, with no shortcuts. Franks and Griffin leant heavily on their escorts; they'd reluctantly accepted that their teammates' bodies would have to stay where they were for now. Ronon cleared out both Rodney and Teyla's pocketed snacks and then growled in response to any enquiries, which John took to mean he was still hungry and probably hurting and tired too. Rodney complained of a headache and speculated about concussion and a possible fractured skull. John simply focussed on putting one foot in front of another, or one foot below another, as they negotiated the endless flights of stairs that would bring them to the Gate level.
He stumbled and winced and Dennet said, "Want me to carry you?"
"No!"
"No, you'll struggle on stubbornly," said Rodney, "until all your little lambs are through the Gate, and then collapse in the Gateroom!"
"You calling yourself a lamb, McKay?"
"No, I'm calling you a sheepdog! In fact," said Rodney, with smirking satisfaction, "I bet that was your nickname with your flyboy buddies! Sheppard, sheepdog, it makes a lot of sense!"
"Give it a rest, Rodney!"
"Or no, maybe Lassie! Or Laika!"
"Rodney, that is enough!" said Teyla.
"Toto?"
oOo
"Shall I try again, Ma'am?"
Elizabeth hesitated, gripping the railing as she overlooked the Gateroom. "No." She turned and gave Chuck a brief, apologetic smile. "Thank you, no."
"Waiting's always hard," he offered. "When there's nothing you can do."
She nodded, tightly, and turned to face the silent Gate once more. Then she took a deep breath and turned back, with a determined smile. "I'm sorry, I must be distracting you from your work, hovering about here. And I should get on with my work too."
The Gate activated.
Elizabeth froze, unwilling to face the Gate until she knew. Her eyes fastened onto Chuck's concerned features. His face relaxed into a smile. "Teyla's IDC, Ma'am. Lowering the shield."
A painful lump rose in Elizabeth's throat. "Thank you. Thank you, Chuck. Call a med team, please. Just in case." She felt as if she were thanking more than the Gate technician and suddenly she needed to move, to be down there, among her people when they came home, not distantly overlooking. There was a ripple as she reached the foot of the stairs and Rodney appeared, Dr Griffin's arm slung round his shoulders. Then Ronon, supporting Sergeant Franks. And finally Teyla, close beside John, but not touching him, the effort it was costing him to return to his city under his own steam showing plainly in his laboured steps and clenched jaw. The event horizon collapsed. No Major Jordan. No Sergeant Bell.
Elizabeth expected the weary travellers to begin moving away from the Gate toward the approaching med team; John's eyes would meet hers and she would see in them the hardships of the mission, before his shuttered expression descended, hiding his physical and mental pain. But they all turned away. They all turned to the Gate, to the great empty circle where the silvery ripple had gone, and in its place was the golden light of late afternoon, shining through the ancient stained glass to bathe the Gateroom in warmth and colour. The two remaining members of Jordan's team reached for each other and stood in the light, their heads together, their shoulders shaking. And John took two wavering steps through the ring, his right hand held out as if to grasp the brightness, then he sagged to his knees and slithered to the floor and was hidden from her view by Carson and his team.
oOo
Much later, Elizabeth approached the infirmary. Teyla came out.
"Teyla! I thought you'd be sleeping by now."
"I am very tired," Teyla said. "But I wanted to stay until everyone was settled." She smiled. "And I am finding it difficult to be far from Ronon; I was almost sure he was lost to us."
"It sounds like you had a rough time. You don't have to tell me now. Get some sleep."
"I will. Thank you. And Elizabeth, you might want to leave it until the morning. To visit, I mean. I said I wanted to wait until everyone was settled." She grimaced. "I gave up."
"Oh! Trouble?"
Teyla hesitated.
"You don't have to be diplomatic, Teyla; I can imagine! I'll just look in. Maybe I can sort things out."
"I wish you luck," said Teyla.
Elizabeth could hear Carson's raised voice as she entered the infirmary.
"You're not fine, Ronon! You're dehydrated, your arm is infected and your blood work shows all kinds of things I'm not happy about! Now get back into bed!"
An indecipherable rumble was followed by Rodney's strident tones. "Oh, will you please just give it a rest! I've got Sheppard snoring his head off on one side and you two yelling on the other! Concussed man, here! Have some consideration!"
A resonant snort and a confused "Huh?" were her Military Commander's contribution.
"Go back to sleep, Sheppard! And try not to snore!"
"Elizabeth!" Carson gave her a pleading look as he spotted her arrival.
"Carson," she smiled. "Ronon! I hear you've had an eventful mission?"
He shrugged.
"What's the problem here?"
"Been shut in enough. There's no windows here."
"Okay," she said slowly.
"It's dark anyway, Conan! Night-time, remember?"
"Thank you, Rodney," Elizabeth said, repressively. "Ronon, I'm sure Carson will let you get some fresh air as soon as it's light, as long as you follow his medical advice otherwise." She looked questioningly at Carson.
"Yes, yes, you can go out and greet the dawn if you must, just come back here afterwards!"
Ronon's tense posture sagged. "'Kay," he said and got back into bed.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at Carson. One down.
"Rodney!" She smiled, brightly. "How are you feeling?"
"Concussed," he said.
"Just a mild concussion, Rodney," Carson interrupted.
"Bruised," continued Rodney, glaring at the doctor. "Badly. In all kinds of places!"
"I won't ask," said Elizabeth. "Anyway, you can get some sleep now, can't you?"
"I suppose." Rodney wriggled down the bed and pulled his blankets up to his ears.
Elizabeth looked around. "Where are Dr Griffin and Captain Franks?"
"Oh, they're in one of the isolation rooms. They seemed to want to stay together, and I thought it might be more peaceful, knowing erm..."
"Knowing there'd be a certain amount of disruption," Elizabeth said wryly. "What's the damage?" she whispered, nodding toward John.
"A gunshot wound in his left triceps, infected, and injuries indicative of close combat. He's taken quite a nasty blow to the head and has badly bruised ribs."
She sighed. "He'll be begging for release in the morning, then."
"Not bloody likely!" said Carson. "Are you staying?"
"For a while. Just to make sure the peace holds!"
"I'll be around if you need anything." Carson retreated to his office.
Elizabeth carefully lifted a chair and set it down between John and Rodney. She sat and listened to the slow, steady breathing.
"Sorry."
"John?"
"'M sorry, Lisbeth. Didn't bring 'em all home."
"It wasn't your fault, John."
"No."
His eyes didn't open. She looked at the dressing on his forehead and the bruising.
"They need help," he mumbled, still without looking at her.
"The people living in that awful place? Buried underground." She shuddered. "Can we do anything for them?"
Slivers of bleary hazel appeared. "Yeah. They just need a good leader," he said. "Strong woman, like you." A glimmer of a smirk appeared then faded and his features relaxed into sleep.
oOo
John reclined, warm and relaxed, the bright sun shining red through his closed eyes. He breathed deeply of the fresh ocean air and felt the breeze tickle his skin and playfully ruffle his hair.
"No, thank you, Rodney, really, that's enough!"
"Yes, but your skin must be extremely sensitive! Maybe just one more application!"
John opened one eye and squinted at his companions. "Put it away, Rodney. That sun's as blocked as it's gonna get!"
"Yes, but this is moisturising too! Cocoa butter!"
"Rodney. I'm moist. Thank you." Zanta smiled at him, lifted her borrowed shades slightly and flinched. "So bright! It hurts! Are you sure you don't need these, Colonel?"
"Nah, I don't intend on opening my eyes much til the food's cooked. How's it going, Chewie?"
The hiss of meat applied forcefully to a barbecue came from behind him, and the chef's voice, "Not done yet."
"Are you enjoying your new role, Zanta?" asked Teyla.
"Yes," she replied, firmly. "Very much. I'm making a difference, you know? And it's hard, getting the Clan Leaders to agree, co-ordinating trade and finding ways to help the ordinary people, but it's not so different from running a bar!"
"Fewer fights?" John asked.
"I wouldn't say that," she replied. "But nothing I can't handle!"
"You are making the Clan Leaders help the poor?" Teyla asked.
"Yes, and that's easier with access to better food, and more trade."
"And you're still the forgotten people!" Rodney said, pulling his hat down over his eyes.
"So long as we trade via Atlantis, we are. And we're very grateful for that!"
The occupants of the balcony were quiet for a while, the only sounds the sizzle of cooking meat, the surge of waves far below and just the tiniest hint of a hummed tune from Ronon as he tended the barbecue. John's thoughts turned to Jordan and Bell, the two that had been lost before ever he had set foot on that world of shadows and deceit. They were lost, he acknowledged with the weary regret of one who had had to acknowledge many losses over the years. They were lost, but like all the others, they would never be forgotten.
"It's done," said Ronon.
End
Thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please review, as I love to hear your feedback. I feel like doing a couple of short, lighter stories now, before tackling anything else big, maybe including a 'team as family' idea, due to the highs and lows of being quarantined with my family! And I have a totally ridiculous idea which poor Rodney will have to put up with! Hope you're all okay!
Sally