Once through the Gate it didn't take long for the teams to realize that the devastation was not a result of an attack, Wraith or otherwise.
"Looks like a meteor storm hit." said Lorne, who along with everyone else lowered their weapons.
"This planet has no history of such storms." said Teyla.
"Well, there's a first time for everything." Lorne replied, nervous for his missing friends. "It's a miracle the Gate wasn't destroyed."
They tried their communicators again, but there was no response.
Rodney checked his LSD.
"There are some life signs in that direction." he said pointing towards the village.
"So what are we waiting for?" Ronon grunted.
Lorne ordered two of his men to stay near the gate and the rest of them started off, soon passing by the bodies of several dead villagers and a large crater in the path near some levelled trees.
"What if we don't…what if they're..." murmured Rodney as he stared at the bodies on the ground.
Teyla touched him gently on the arm. "Let us hold onto hope for now."
As they entered the village, they came upon a few people who, shuffling in their grief slowly poked through the remains of their homes; nearby an area where they had started to lay out their dead.
Walking further along, they came upon an old man sitting on the ground, leaning against a burnt out, demolished house. He was cradling the body of a young boy; the man saw them and beckoned them over.
"I am Torias the Elder." he said. "You are from Atlantis? Your clothing…they are like Sheppard's and the Doctor."
"Yes, we are." Teyla knelt by the man, glancing at the boy in his arms. "Is he..?"
Torias nodded. "He must have been looking for his family. Sola, too young...the gods have been unkind this day." he silently wept, laying a shaking hand on the boy's head.
"Torias, have you seen our friends?" asked Teyla, her heart breaking at the scene in front of her. "We have come to take them home."
The old man looked at her.
"They said they were going to help my people… to get them to safety on Atlantis. Your arrival tells me they did not succeed."
He lowered his eyes sighing heavily.
"I hid in my cellar; I was too slow, I did not want to hold them back. My people…so many dead...I should have died with them...I should have..."
Teyla gazed sadly at the man and dead child then stood and turned to the others.
"We must keep looking."
The teams split up, Lorne and Rodney using their LSDs. They would look out for survivors, but were clear in their agenda; dead or alive, they wouldn't stop until their friends were found.
Two hours later, as Lorne headed back to the village square, his comm rang, one of his men near the gate radioing in… the Colonel's weapon had been found.
John's team was already there when he and the rest of his men arrived.
The weapon, bent and partially melted was found under some burnt branches of the levelled trees they had passed earlier. Ronon scowled moving off looking for any other signs that Sheppard and Carson were nearby; it didn't take long until a twisted ear comm was found.
"That doesn't mean anything!" stated Rodney a little too loudly.
"You're right, McKay" said Lorne. "Their bodies aren't here. We need to find out the last address dialed from the Gate, if they left or were taken we need to know where they went."
"I'm already on it." Rodney spun and headed toward the DHD.
As Lorne radioed in, lips tight with worry, he watched as Teyla and Ronon headed out; slow and steady their eyes scanning the ground looking for more clues to their friends' whereabouts, the silent dread of what they might find hanging over them.
The sound of dripping water echoed loudly as it smacked against stone.
Carson groaned, the pain that rushed through him overwhelming his senses.
He had awoken sometime before alone in darkness, his body throbbing painfully, his head feeling like it had cracked open, a pounding in his ears. Sitting on the stone ground, his arms chained behind him to a wall he had called out weakly for John as he struggled against the chains, collapsing back as a jagged pain shot through his leg.
Memories of screams, destruction and loss bombarded him as he cried quietly in the darkness.
The children…he should have saved them…
The last thing he remembered was John yelling from somewhere behind him to run…to keep moving; then a flash of light like a nuclear blast, then nothing.
Where was he?
He had to find John…he had to…
He heard a soft click and looked up to see a small window open in a door across the room; a stream of light flowing through landing on his face, causing him to squint.
"Hallo?" he rasped. "Please..."
The window in the door slammed shut and Carson was cast back into darkness.
Lucius Daravilus was an imposing man; muscular, broad shouldered and towering towards seven feet in height, most men found it better to stay on his good side for their own safety. His salt and pepper hair, impeccably cut, his grey eyes striking, on his chiseled face.
The dark night marched across the sky as Lucius, leaning against a wall drinking heavily, stared at the bed on the far side of the room; the bed where the impossible lay.
Putting his drink down, he walked unsteadily over and sitting on the side of the bed, shook the dirty bloody man by the shoulder.
'Wake up." he muttered.
John groaned softly.
Lucius let him go looking down at him in disgust.
"I said WAKE UP!"
He dug down hard against a wound on John's exposed shoulder and twisted his fingers viciously.
John's eyes flew open with a gasp that turned to a scream as Lucius kept digging; soon, his breath lost, John's scream turned to a pantomime of agony; his body frozen, unable to breathe...unable to move.
Finally removing his hand, Lucius smiled.
"Good, you're awake."
Panting, John's pain-glazed eyes eventually landed on Lucius; his body twitching in shock as he grimaced at the stabbing pain shooting through him.
Lucius gently touched the top of John's head then slowly moved his hand down until it was around his throat, then he started to squeeze.
John's eyes widened and he weakly tried to move the hand away.
When Lucius saw him struggling he rested his other hand on the side of John's face, caressing it as he slowly choked the life out of the hurt man.
"Shhh…" he smiled as John writhed in front of him.
"Shhh..." his smile widened as John's struggling slowed.
When John's eyes started to roll in the back of his head, Lucius let go and stared at him, watching as he gasped for breath his eyes twitching behind closed lids.
"I wanted to see if you still had the same spirit within you. Seems you do; fighting until the very end…that's good. Though it makes what you did to me even more horrible; but we will have time to talk about that later."
He leaned over and stroked John softly on the forehead, then rose and headed out of the room. As he opened the door he turned back to the bed and smiled, darkness flashing through his storm cloud eyes.
"Welcome home, Nahkhan. Welcome home, my son."
-tbc-