Long time no see...
Guess who's still alive and kicking! My job is currently sucking all my writing energy out of me and then I got distracted by the MCU, buuuuut I swear I will finish this story. So here we go...
John blinks. His first thought is that he shouldn't have drunk that much. His head is swimming and he tries to get his eyes to focus.
John blinks once more. His second thought is that he might not be drunk after all. What comes into focus in front of him is a small clearing surrounded by thick vegetation, not the interior of a bar or any other familiar room. How did he end up here? Why did he end up here? John does not know.
Plants, plants, plants, jungle… red feather. He remembers pulling a tiny dart from his neck. Involuntarily, his hand comes up to touch the spot which the needle pricked. John frowns. His hand hasn't moved an inch. Ah, he's tied up. John nods to himself, processing the reason why he can't move. Then, he tries to decide if his inability to move means that something is wrong with the situation. He can't seem to decide yet, all thought drowned out by this strange fog and the view of plants. Plants, plants, plants, why plants, not a bar? He's drunk, isn't he?
Something at the back of his mind is trying to get his attention. John frowns some more. It's important, he knows that much…
The others!
He almost pukes as he turns his head quickly to look for them, look for Rodney, Teyla and the marines that accompanied them. Holding still, he rides out the waves of dizziness. Once he does not feel like emptying his stomach on his shoes any longer, he slowly looks to the side. There are a couple of thick poles, rammed deep into the earth. His friends are tied to them, sweating profoundly in the moist heat of the jungle, but otherwise all right. Good. Maybe they are just playing cowboy and Indian, with all of them tied to a stake? But then, who plays the bad guys that bound them here and who will come to the rescue?
John turns to assess his surroundings. He still can't make much sense of the situation. His blurred vision offers nothing but plants, plants, and more plants, surrounding the clearing. All is silver and black in the moonlight. John looks up at the moon. Wasn't it day? Apparently not any longer.
Looking back down, he sees another person, walking their rounds. Female, male? John can't tell, the potato sack like, loose, clothes hide everything and the long hair doesn't mean anything. He tries to call for help, ignoring the fact that the spear in the other's hand probably says they're not friendly.
What comes out of his mouth is mumbled garbage. No clear words. The other person stops to sneer at him, amused by John's attempt at speaking.
Karma decides to make an appearance before John can even glower at them.
Blue eyes open between the leaves, glowing like miniature stargates from amongst the blackness where the moonlight cannot reach past the plants. The creature the eyes belong to moves entirely silent, not a single leave rustles when the pale light finally catches on a face that looks oddly skeletal when illuminated like that, all high cheekbones and pale skin. Hands rise to the left and right of the still unsuspecting human, and John can't help but think of the way he slowly moves his hand above a fly to swat it before it even realized the danger it's in.
The thought must have shown on his face because the sneer drops from the others face and the now suspicious human starts to turn.
John was mistaken. This is not like watching himself kill a fly. This is like watching a Venus Fly Trap. With the speed of the leaves of the carnivorous plant suddenly snapping shut one hand clamps down on the mouth, one on the chest before the pray can even think about escape. A few moments later the gruesome skin and bone corpse drops down as the hands slowly open again like the leaves of the flytrap that looks so harmless at first glance.
A black coat separates from the shadows among the plants as the creature wearing it steps forwards, steps over the corpse and makes its way towards John. And John knows he should be afraid, should be terrified, because this incarnation of death is familiar, a known danger. And yet he is calm, because yes, he knows this creature. And as dangerous as it is, it would not harm him. Because... He has no idea why.
"John Sheppard," the creature speaks, drawing his name out with a snarl to it that sounds neither feral nor inhumane but still raises John's hackles. He watches as it cocks its head to the side, contemplating. What it contemplates, John doesn't know. But it tells him and he strains to understand the words despite the fog in his head.
"Every time a You meets a Me eventually there is this choice to make. Should I stay or should I go, John Sheppard? Should I stay or should I go?" There's a familiar melody in the way it hums those last words and John's poor brain scrambles for an explanation where this walking nightmare could have happened to hear that song. He's so busy pondering if all of this is perhaps just a weird dream made up by his subconsciousness, he almost misses how the creature chuckles as if it knows exactly what its actions do to John's sanity. Then, it continues.
"More often than not I chose my freedom and walked away from you. And why shouldn't I? No other of me can see as far as I can, no other of me knows that the price we need to pay to be able to do the right thing might just be worth it."
And that's something John understands, that's something he gets. In his mind, he hears the commands to turn the helicopter around. But he goes back for his friends, he won't leave them, fuck the chain of command, can't they see there is a real chance?! He's Captain now, no longer Major, but the demotion was worth it, going to waste away in Vegas was worth it, because it led him here! He's here to-... To…
"What's at stake?" He asks and he doesn't know how the creature can understand the garbled mess that drops from his numb tongue, but it answers as if it read the question from his eyes. His mind…
"Everything," it says with a smile that drips with the strangeness of a being that doesn't tick like a human at all. "Everyone."
John frowns. "Sounds like high stakes. Dunno why it shouldn't be worth some sacrifice…"
"You crawled out into the desert from amidst a town of gambling," it says, cocking its head the other way. "Perhaps you learned there, perhaps I should trust your ability to guess the odds." The grin of a shark. "Perhaps I should also trust in my ability to spy at our cards..."
Pale hair and black robes fan out as it walks, stalks up to John and closes the distance between them to an uncomfortable level. The very hand he had just watched suck the life out of another human being splays on his chest. Something in his confused brain rings all alarms and screams of danger as he sees the pale fingers pressed there, right over his heart. Another part of him feels relief. Oddly enough, that's the instinct part of him. While his consciousness yells at him to get away from this deadly thing something in his subconsciousness is absolutely fine with this. Weird.
"Let us try this, John Sheppard. I can remain reasonably bowed and cowed until my next opportunity to hold my head high."
A biting pain. Literally biting, because John could swear something in that palm just hooked a couple of fangs into his chest. Soon it will be all over, he thinks but doesn't believe his own notion. He stares into the blue glow of those sunken eyes and waits for the pain. But all that follows is a surge. As if for a second he has touched a live wire, and then his head is suddenly all clear.
Gasping for air in his surprise he stares at Todd, who smirks and drops his hand back to his side. "What the hell just happened?!" John whisper-screams. He feels like he has a caffeine-induced high.
"Oh, just a little push. Ridding yourself of toxins is just another way of healing." The wraith shrugs.
"Awfully handy," John says instead of a thank you. He doesn't appreciate that someone's lifeforce has just been wasted on sobering him up from whatever has hit him. Todd doesn't seem to mind the lack of thanks, he just shrugs once more. John looks down at and strains against the ropes holding him to the pole. "So, you don't happen to be here to untie me?"
"Hm..." Todd regards him thoughtfully but makes no move to free John from his predicament.
John rolls his eyes. "Okay, what do you want then?"
"A deal. I untie you and in turn, I will no longer be tied up." Todd offers. John raises an eyebrow and Todd lifts his hands, waving them a little back and forth. The motion should look ridiculous but it just allows a nice view of his most deadly natural weapon. "You can still starve me and keep me in the brig, but I do wish to no longer be forced to wear chains wherever we go. They are so... restricting."
John pretends to ponder on that for a moment, before agreeing. "All right, I won't ever put chains on you again."
"Nor will anyone else," Todd says, his eyes displaying that sharp, calculating gaze that always has John on edge, forever preventing him from underestimating the wraith. John curses to himself.
"Well, it was worth the try," he admits to being caught in his game. Todd huffs a laugh, but John is not fooled by that. The wraith will not be distracted from his goal by humor. "Well, I can't decide on behalf of all of the expedition. I'm not at the top of the pecking order..."
Todd makes that contemplating humming sound again, then steps around John and the pole he's tied to. "Very well, for now, I am happy enough with only your promise. Do I have your promise, John Sheppard?"
Something sharp wriggles between John's wrists and the rope but does not yet cut. Todd patiently waits for John to finish rolling his eyes again and sigh in annoyance. His unwillingness to give in to any demands of the wraith wars with his willingness to give up quite a lot for the chance to go check on the others and get them off this planet as soon as possible. In the end, the knowledge that there will be enough others to tie Todd up tips his decision for good.
"You have my promise, I won't tie you up again, so long as you don't go and kill people I want to keep around!" Because there is no way Todd will swear to not kill at all, not when it's the wraith's way of staying alive. And John is tired, despite the recent boost in energy he does not feel like wasting any more time being tied up discussing things he has no way of changing right now.
"Agreed," Todd happily proclaims and cuts him loose. "Just remember I don't take well to broken promises, Sheppard!" he casually adds.
"So what's up with the natives?" John asks as he shakes the ropes off. Todd shrugs and half turns to plug a little, red feathered dart from where it is stuck in his shoulder. He hands it to John, who can vaguely remember being shot at with the things.
"The locals never liked guests, be it wraith or their own kind. It's a good place to hide a ship, they guard it without knowing they do so. And unfortunately for them, we don't really mind if our food doesn't welcome us with open arms." Todd smiles widely and John knows he's being baited. He remains silent and only rolls his eyes as he pockets the dart. Beckett will want to look at that.
Todd plugs another dart from his back. "I was hoping to keep this hole free for a while longer," he complains as he throws this one to the ground. That's when John notices the wraith is wearing new clothes.
"Went shopping while we were stuck here?" He asks as he walks over to Rodney's pole.
"Had a spare set in my dart," Todd admits with a shrug. "Still not the height of fashion, probably, but at least there's no permanent draft due to bullet holes…"
"They probably won't let you keep it," John predicts as he tries to get Rodney to focus on him. McKay has the stupidest grin on his face he's ever seen. Otherwise, he seems alright.
"Hmmm…" is all that Todd answers as he unties a viciously struggling Teyla. The wraith seems deeply amused by the drugged Arthosian's attempts to kill him and easily fends her off as John unties Rodney, who simply slides down the post to fall on his ass and stare at the sky, still with a goofy grin. John then grabs Teyla, who is still trying to claw out the eyes of an unhelpful Todd, around the middle and sits her down next to Rodney. She remains sitting there as well, attention on Rodney now. The two start a conversation about something that only someone equally drugged-out would understand.
"This is going to be fun…" John murmurs as he untangles the marines from their restrains. The soldiers manage to follow his instructions to sit down as well. Once sure everyone is as well as they can be John taps his communication gear. It comes to life with the quiet, familiar hum of static. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Can you hear me?"
Silence, a crackle, then "Captain Sheppard, this is major Ford. We're on our way in Gateship Two, ETA four hours. The Stargate seems to be deactivated. Where are you and what happened?" John can barely understand the words over the noise, but a bad connection is so much better than none. He glares at Todd from the corner of his eyes, but the wraith shows nothing that would indicate he is responsible for the deactivated gate. "The natives didn't like us. We got to the dart and they knocked us out, the whole team is drugged up, Todd's free of everything but ambition and I have no idea how to get us all to the stargate in one piece, not to mention if we can get it going from our side if something's truly wrong with it."
"Roger that. Stay where you are and wait for us. Over."
"Will do, over," John agrees without much enthusiasm. He doesn't like the idea of being sitting ducks.
"Did we at least get what we came for?" He asks Todd.
The wraith makes an Oh, I almost forgot! kind of face and reaches into a hidden pocket on his coat to hand him the data stick Rodney had plugged to the dart.
They remain on the clearing in silence for a while. The moist jungle heat makes John wish for a cold shower. He plays with the data stick in his hands, bored. Sometimes the leaves around them rustle but a snarl from Todd keeps the natives at bay. It seems, the wraith built a reputation for himself while he roamed free.
Suddenly, John has an idea. He stops turning over that hard drive again and again. "So, that dart of yours… how much needs to be fixed?"
Todd grins "Thought you'd never ask!"
Later, when John is being chewed out for using the old dart to dial the gate from their side and fly everyone home, when the storage that holds his dematerialized team malfunctions and he gets chewed out for that too while Zelenka digs through the darts innards to get the machine to beam the stuck part of the group back out, Todd full out laughs. He laughs even harder when something goes wrong and Rodney ends up sharing his body with a female marine.
It doesn't surprise John that the wraith knows the solution to their problem. It doesn't surprise him either that Todd barters with it for the right to keep his new coat.
He remembers vaguely what Todd said about trusting more in his ability to peek at their cards. And he guesses this means the wraith is now full-on playing the game.
Whatever that game may be.
John is all in
The Clash - Should I Stay or Should I Go.
In case you were wondering what song John was wondering about.