A/N: I'll edit this tomorrow when I'm awake, as usual. Enjoy and sleep well.

Chapter summary: In which Critias isn't fond of anything Ancient, Dr. Weir has questions, and Jinto is curious. Again.

6: Critias

His first thought all to himself was of relief followed immediately by guilt and an intense loneliness. He could not stop himself from reaching out and grasping the arm of the person standing closest to him, clutching the cloth and muscle with as much strength as he could muster.

He hadn't realized how truly exhausted he was until this moment. The closeness that he'd experienced with his companions from moments ago was sorely missed. The silence in his head was almost physically painful and the abuse his body had suffered was finally beginning to register. Everything hurt and he wished for nothing else than to sleep in a warm bed with his companions' presence within touching distance.

He didn't even notice at first when his knees gave way. All he could clearly perceive was the strong hand hooking under his armpit and another pressing against his back, bracing him. Hermos. Gently, Hermos helped ease him down until he could sit on the cool metal steps. His vision was spinning and he felt so heavy.

Cool fingers brushed his check bones and pressed against his temple and forehead just above his eyebrows with patient skill. Critias. Two fingers tilted his head back and he blinked, willing his swimming vision to still and focus. Dark blue the shade of the dusk sky gazed at him with carefully restrained worry. Wearily, he offered his friend a smile.

Critias frowned. "You look awful," the blonde man said in even tones that Timaeus had long ago learned contained more emotion than Critias would ever admit.

Timaeus winced then huffed a weak laugh when he saw Critias stagger from the sharp elbow jab from Hermos.

"Shut it, brains for wings," Hermos groused, nudging Critias aside so he could see Timaeus more clearly. Waving shyly, Hermos grinned revealing his sharp canines. "Hello wingbrother," the brunette said. "It's good to see your face on your own body."

Timaeus caught the obnoxious eye roll and groan from Critias and chuckled. "It is good to have my self back," Timaeus said. His smiled faded. "Even though I wish…"

He couldn't find the words to continue. Thankfully, Hermos and Critias knew him well enough to understand. Sharing one mind and one body for so long -ever so long- had a way of doing that. Especially since they had been friends for years before ever embarking on this misadventure so long ago.

Warm solidity pressed against his forehead and ochre eyes slid shut, a low rumble just loud enough to be heard reaching his ears. Welcoming the gesture, Timaeus allowed his own eye to slip closed. It was a mistake. He wouldn't remember anything that transpired afterwards.

Critias sat back, letting Hermos take care of their wingleader. The young hunter may be a wild youth, but he was thoroughly bonded to Timaeus. However much Hermos got under Critias' scales, he knew the boy would never deliberately harm Timaeus. Especially not while they were all suffering from a bone-weary exhaustion and the heart wrenching loss of oneness.

When Timaeus' lone eye finally closed and stayed closed, Critias breathed a sigh of relief. Resting a hand on Hermos' shoulder, he stood and actually looked at the room around them through his own eyes. Despite the subtle changes by the modern city-dwellers, the room was still distinctly Lantean. He hated it.

Movement to his right caught his eye and he turned his gaze to the woman standing a few steps below him on the stairs. Her eyes were a deep, earthen brown that pierced unlike any Lantean gaze he had ever faced down. Her skin was tanned from birth and sun, a shade or so lighter than her shoulder-length hair. She would be at least a head and a half shorter than him had they been standing on the same step, but she did not seem it. Her gaze and the way she held herself made it clear she was a leader.

This was someone he could respect. He tilted his head to her in acknowledgement, a gesture which she reciprocated. There was wariness in the sharp edges to her stare but a willingness to listen as well. Perhaps not all was as bad as Critias had initially feared.

"Is Timaeus well?" the woman asked.

Critias squeezed Hermos' shoulder before allowing his hand to slip away as he nodded. "As well as can be expected," his gaze moved to the stunned Atlanteans standing on the floor below, "given the circumstances."

The man he remembered from his time as Timaeus held his mechanical weapon at the ready. He wasn't sure what to make of the device. Most races he had contact with preferred energy-based weapons. A fact which he and his people took advantage of when designing their own weapons. He fingered the pommel of his sword, the familiar weight resting comfortably at his hip.

Hmm, it seemed the Altantean did not like that gesture. He deliberately did it again and grinned, flashing a fang because he could.

"Major Sheppard," he said, choosing to take the advantage he'd been inadvertently given. "Dr. Weir," he added, turning to the red-haired woman. "Dr. Grodin," he said, glancing at the dark haired scientist. He hesitated before addressing the cowardly scientist who had so dramatically fainted while facing the Erebus. Then again, he had faced the Erebus alone. That did deserve acknowledgement if nothing else. "Dr. McKay," he said reluctantly.

Dr. Weir stepped forward, her hazel eyes wary but open as she assessed the situation. Taking care to make her movements slow and clearly seen, she raised her hands in the universal sign of surrender. Her forehead creased as she considered the situation and how to wisely navigate it.

Possible diplomat training? If so, she could prove to be either an ally or an obstacle. Critias would have to differentiate between those two options quickly.

"One of Timaeus' comrades, I presume," Dr. Weir said by way of greeting.

"You presume correctly," Critias replied in kind.

He glanced at the Atlantean still holding his weapon aimed at him before dismissing him. Critias doubted the man would fire unless he detected a credible threat to his leader. Wise choice, if incorrect. Pity the man knew so little.

Hermos tugged his dark blue cape and Critias glanced at his young wingmate. The youth spoke no words, but his intent was clearly evident in his eyes. Critias nodded, shifting so he stood between the Atlantans and his wingmates.

"Is Timaeus alright?" Dr. Weir asked, drawing Critias' attention back to her. "We have a doctor on hand if he needs it."

A dual-edged sword. One the surface, the offer was harmless. Aid for an injured potential ally. But it could also prove to be dangerous. As long as Timaeus was under the care of the Atlantean doctor, Dr. Weir and the Atlanteans would have a slight advantage over him and his comrades. It was a less than ideal situation.

But Timaeus did need aid.

Reluctantly, Critias bowed his head. "That would be much appreciated," he said. "He is suffering from exhaustion and overexertion."

"Will you let me call for the doctor?" Dr. Weir offered.

"That won't be necessary," Critias countered. "We remember the way."

He tapped Hermos' shoulder and waited as his wingmate gathered Timaeus' unconscious body into his arms, stood, and hurried up the stairs to the healing hall by way of the mezzanine. Knowing his wingmates were safely out of the line of fire, Critias focused his full attention on the people in front of him.

Descending the steps slowly, he passed Teyla and approached Dr. Weir. She met him with squared shoulders and an even gaze despite being half a head shorter than himself. Diplomat training, definitely. He could feel Teyla's regard from behind him and listened closely for the tell-tale sound of her feet as she came down to join them.

"I am Critias," he announced. "Scholar and wingmate of Timaeus."

Interesting. There was recognition in Dr. Weir's eyes. Why was that?

"You know of me," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"We have stories," Dr. Weir confirmed. "A philosopher from our world wrote several literary pieces called the Timaeus and the Critias. There was supposedly a third called the Hermocrates but it was either never written or never found."

Unsure what to think, Critias lifted an eyebrow. The woman had too much surprise in her voice to be lying, but her words were difficult to believe. How could someone from her world know about him and his wingmates? Unless the Atlanteans had a closer connection to the Lanteans than they let on, which was possible.

It also led Critias to a darker realization which he sincerely hoped wasn't true, if only because he wished it wasn't. If Dr. Weir knew of tales named after him and him comrades, then that implied someone knew about them. Someone remembered them. Someone knew they were still imprisoned in that accursed subspace and left them there when Atlantis was abandoned.

Restraining his fury, Critias chose to focus on the last part of Dr. Weir's answer instead. "Hermocrates?" he said dryly. "You're sure about that?"

Dr. Weir nodded. "I'm sure," she said. "I researched as much about this city as I could before leading our expedition here."

"Is that so?" Critias thought for a moment, then smiled. He was going to enjoy this. "I see," he murmured. "In that case, well met."

Turning to Dr. McKay, he ran his gaze down the length of the man then back up. Hopefully Timaeus' assessment was true and the man's brain was more impressive than his physical form.

"Dr. McKay," he said, startling the man, "Timaeus may have been teasing when he commented on your fear of the dark. However," he continued, cutting off the man's response before it could take form, "you should be aware now that sometimes the dark should be feared. The Erebus is not a single entity. It is a communal existence. Everything it saw and experienced here was simultaneously seen and experienced by the entirety of its kind." He grinned. "They all now know you are the one who bested it and banished it to a desolate planet."

The man looked like he would piss himself from fear. Critias allowed a single fang to flash ing amusement before turning on his heal and walking away.

"I will be with my wingmates in the healing hall if you need us," he said before leaving the room and following the hallway to where his friends were.

"I will accompany him," Teyla said, hurrying after Critias.

"Thank you, Teyla," Elizabeth said. "We'll be right behind you."

"We will?"

Unfortunately. "Dr. Beckett needs to clear you fit for duty, McKay," she said, turning to her lead scientist. "Besides, I don't like the idea of leaving them alone unwatched."

"Want me to keep an eye on them?" Maj. Sheppard offered.

She thought for a moment. "Not yet," she said eventually. "Lieutenant Ford is still with Dr. Beckett and I understand Sgt. Stackhouse hasn't left his side?"

Sheppard shook his head. "Except to go to the bathroom, no."

"He probably blames himself for what happened to the lieutenant," Dr. Grodin said.

"That won't go away easily," Sheppard said, nodding. "He'll need to let it go on his own."

Elizabeth nodded. "Then I think that should be fine for now. Make regular check-ins, but otherwise let's try and make our new guests comfortable."

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Sheppard observed as they all made their way back up to the mezzanine.

He had a point. "I don't trust them yet, if that's what you mean," she said. "But I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. They did help us out. What I'm most interested in is where those two extras came from and what that energy field was that Timaeus made."

"I swear, Timaeus was the only one there when I went past," Sheppard said sincerely. "Teyla was the only one who stayed back. I can ask if she saw anything."

"I'll start running diagnostics using our systems and the city's sensors," Peter said, pushing past her to get to his laptop.

"Good," Elizabeth said, nodding in approval. "If we can miss two people running around the city while we had a security threat present, then I want to know how. The last thing we need is a security breach when we least expect it."

"Yeah and leaving them to their own devices is the perfect way to avoid that," Rodney said sarcastically as he leaned against one of the control pedestals.

"You said yourself the Ancient records specifically mentioned three assistants who helped them capture and control the shadow entity while they studied it," Elizabeth said, clasping her hands behind her and studying her lead scientist curiously. "We suspected there were others Timaeus hadn't introduced us to yet."

"Yes, but did any of you expect them to just appear out of thin air?" Rodney countered. "Because I certainly didn't."

"He's right," Sheppard said, leaning against the railing and resting his wrists on the butt of his P-90. "After what Timaeus just pulled back there with a sword," he said emphatically, "I'd say there's a whole lot more to these guys then what we've seen. That could be a good thing, or it could be very, very bad."

"As much as I would like to disagree with the major," Peter said, looking up from his computer, "I think he might have a point."

"Thank you," Sheppard said, gesturing to the scientist.

Instead of an acknowledgement, Peter sat up and turned his computer around so the screen faced Elizabeth, McKay, and the major. "This is what the city's sensors picked up before the Stargate closed," he said.

They watched the dot indicating Timaeus' signature sit in the center of the screen with another life sign nearby that was likely Teyla's. However, unlike Teyla's life sign, Timaeus' signature was not a simple, white spot. It was pale blue and pulsed slightly.

"Why is Timaeus' symbol different from ours?" Elizabeth asked, crossing her arms.

"Possibly because he's not human," Rodney said. When he suddenly found himself the focus of the group's attention, he huffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me none of you noticed the very distinctive fangs that Critias guy showed us. Also, show me a human who can create shields with swords."

Well, when he put it that way, it did make sense. Timaeus never did say he was human and implied he wasn't an Ancient. He might not be an enemy but Elizabeth certainly wasn't the only one wondering what race Timaeus belonged to, out of curiosity if nothing else.

"Can you play it through?" she asked.

Peter nodded. "Sure. One second."

The scientist pressed a button on his keyboard and allowed the sequence on the screen to play through. The red blob they knew to be the Erebus filled the left side of the screen around the Stargate with McKay's life sign in the center of the red blob. As they watched, the red blob vanished through the Stargate and their own life signs moved past Teyla's and Timaeus' signatures.

Then Timaeus' pulsing blue spot brightened and seemed to separate like cells during osmosis until suddenly there were two other life signs pulsing on either side of him identical to his own.

"So these Critias and Hermocrates guys literally appeared out of thin air," Sheppard wondered aloud.

"As far as the city's sensors were concerned, yes," Peter said. "Or, more like they were all standing in the same place at the same time then just stepped apart."

"But they weren't there," Elizabeth said, looking up at Peter in confusion. "Timaeus was the only one there."

Peter shrugged, at a loss. "I'm not sure what to tell you," he said. "I can only show you what the city detected."

"They could have been invisible," Sheppard suggested.

"Unlikely," Rodney said, shooting that idea down quickly. "The city should still have been able to detect them even if they were invisible."

"We don't know that for sure," Elizabeth said. "Even SG-1 had to modify their equipment to detect the aliens who could make themselves invisible like the Reeto."

"The city could have those types of modifications already built in," Peter suggested.

"Or they weren't invisible to begin with," Rodney argued, holding his ground.

Elizabeth sighed and went over some ideas in her mind. "Okay, we know the Asgard have transporter capabilities and the city has a form of that technology," she began. "Is it possible Critias and Hermocrates were just somewhere else in the city and teleported here?"

Rodney stood and rubbed his hands together. "I doubt it."

"Why don't we ask Teyla?" Sheppard suggested, drawing their gazes. "She was standing the closest to Timaeus. Like I said before, I'll ask her if she noticed anything hinky."

"Hinky?" Rodney repeated in disdain. "Who uses that word?"

"Lieutenant Ford," Sheppard replied with a grin.

"You're not Lt. Ford," Rodney said.

Sheppard and gasped. "You noticed," he teased. "Before Rodney makes any more enlightening observations," he added with a sneaky grin, "I'll be checking in on Lt. Ford."

"You do that," Elizabeth said, not bothering to hide her amusement.

"That was uncalled for," Rodney grumbled.

"I thought it was funny," Peter said, raising his hand.

"Yeah, well no one asked you," McKay snapped before stalking away the mope.

His hair was so pale. Jinto had never seen someone with such pale hair except for the Wraith. But this man couldn't be a Wraith. He didn't look like one and besides his hands were normal. Ish. The man's fingers were long but neither of his palms had the trademark Wraith appearance.

But the man wasn't Human either. Jinto couldn't quite explain it, he just knew. It was like a wild animal suddenly stepped into the room. Jinto felt it when he first met Timaeus and felt it again when the brown-haired stranger came into the healing hall carrying Timaeus in his arms. But now the feeling wasn't as pronounced as it had been.

Before, Jinto had just been aware of where Timaeus was in the room at any given time. Now he wasn't aware so much as alert. The stranger gave off the same non-Human, wild aura as Timaeus but it was muddled. Even with both Timaeus and the stranger present, the feeling wasn't stronger or more intense. It was just ambient.

It was weird.

Then the man with the pale hair came in and Jinto knew he wasn't Human. He wasn't scared or anything. He was just more alert now, almost like he was back on Athos hunting in the woods. This was an alertness he was familiar with. It was strangely comforting.

The man with the pale hair spared him a glance before moving to Timaeus and Jinto realized he'd been recognized. Like a wolf noticing the presence of another potential predator and silently agreeing to keep its distance if he did the same. Except Jinto was curious and he didn't want to keep his distance.

He wanted to know if the man's pale hair was real or if he was older than he looked. Timaeus had white hair around his face. Maybe it was something unique to their race. He wanted to know.

Which is how he found himself in this situation when Maj. Sheppard arrived.