A.N: And lo, the final chapter. Thank you all for reading, and until next time!
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"We should meet in another life, we should meet in air,
Me and you."
―Sylvia Plath, Lesbos
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John returned to consciousness like a bubble rising to a pond's surface. The ozone stink of the energy fields filled his nose and he realized where he was. The hard pallet dug into his hips and shoulders. The gray ceiling stared at him. John blinked slowly back.
"You're still alive."
John turned his head. Guide stood close to the barrier, watching him. There was no discernible emotion in the alien face. The starburst tattoo was stark against the gray skin.
John's voice was a gruff croak. "Yeah."
"How many times?"
John closed his eyes and willed himself into the floor. "Can't remember." He turned his head and speared the Wraith behind Guide with a dark glower. Before the other Wraith could open his mouth Guide stepped between them. He lifted his chin.
"Do you blame them? Our rationing keeps us hungry, some to the point of near starvation. To have the chance to take our fill is an opportunity no sane Wraith will pass up."
Do you blame the Wraith? Or the master?
"Have you thought of how to reach the centralized hub?" Guide asked.
John had looked at a spot on the floor, feeling for all the world he'd lost some part of himself back in Oros' interrogation. He could tell something was wrong. Though there was no wound on his body, he felt he was bleeding out somewhere, that there was less of him than before and there continued to be less by the minute.
The truth is, there is no way home for you.
"Not yet," John finally said, turning away to look back at the ceiling.
He lost track of time as he faded in and out of consciousness. He could hear Guide pacing, the rhythmic whisper of cloth faint against the hum of the energy fields. One point he heard a long shuffle of many bodies moving, but he didn't care enough to open his eyes. When he finally woke he found the barracks empty, every cell but his shut down. John sat up slowly, grimacing at how his entire body felt it had just gone ten rounds with a pissed off Ronon. He glanced down at his hands. Despite their unblemished skin they felt withered, just as they had in Kolya's prison before Guide returned his youth. He made a fist. It felt insubstantial. He let it go. The strength didn't matter.
The barrack doors hissed open. John was still staring at the unmade fist when someone stood outside his cell.
"The High Councilor lied."
John looked up. It was Lorric. There was a bowl of green paste in his hand.
"I heard what he said to you yesterday. You may still go home, Colonel Sheppard, but that window of opportunity is closing."
"Is this a joke?" John said. His tone was even. "Because if it is, I'm going to kill you."
"Someone who thinks they have nothing to lose is a dangerous opponent," the Ancient said, nodding. "I assure you, what I say is the truth."
This could be a trap, a small voice said. John forced himself to stand. He walked over to the energy wall until he and Lorric were several inches apart. "Why? Why now? Why not tell me this earlier?"
"I had tried to warn you—"
"Gee, you mean that vague question?" John wanted to shout. "Yeah, your warning was incredibly clear."
"There was no clean opportunity to speak to you as I do now, Colonel. And I had no idea the magnitude of the retrovirus you were about to show the High Councilor and our Chief Scientist," the Overseer said. "You have given him a very precious gift, one that may help him discover immortality, or more. He will squeeze what he can from you before turning his sights on your reality. I can make sure that doesn't happen."
"Why are you suddenly telling me all this?"
"I learned what Chief Scientist Aaila is planning to do to you," Lorric said, looking away. "There would be nothing left of you in the end but what could fit on a microscope slide."
"That bad, huh?" John said.
"There's another reason. The truth is, it's been a long time since I have seen compassion, Colonel Sheppard. I had thought I would've lived the rest of my life without witnessing it again."
John found himself on the back foot. He blinked. "What?"
"I saw it on your face when you saw the Wraith in the cage. You referred to the Wraith as 'he' when all others say 'it.'"
John shifted. He was glad Guide wasn't there. "So?"
"That may seem like a small thing to you, Colonel, but it reminded me of something I thought we Ancients have lost."
John said nothing. He had killed hundreds of Wraith in his time, and though he now recognized them as people, he wasn't above shooting them again if they threatened Atlantis or the peace of the Pegasus Galaxy.
Lorric stepped closer and said in a lowered voice, "Every twenty-six years there is a massive solar phenomenon that sends enough disruptive energy to alter the path of our Gate and allow us a window into yours."
"Every twenty-six years?" John closed his eyes tightly. He couldn't imagine twenty-six more minutes of this, let alone twenty-six more years. An image of Teyla flashed before he could stop himself, a life and an Atlantis forever out of reach.
"Yes. The burst allows enough power for this window to remain open for approximately one hundred and fifty hours. We cannot alter our destination, and attempting the increase the size of the window would have taken far more power than probable. Over the ages we have explored your alternate version, but as we only saw destruction, we realized there was nothing to gain. Now Gate travel was prohibited during the corona."
John nodded slowly. "We saw that happen on our end too. There was a flash of light and the sky around the sun became orange." He blinked as something fell into place. "That's how you knew I wasn't from the future. I came through the Stargate as it was happening."
"Yes. That's why we were so surprised to see you. But Colonel, you're running out of time. If every cycle is forty-two of your minutes, you've already been here for one hundred and thirty-two cycles."
A chill seeped into John's heart as he did the math. Only twelve and a half hours left to get home.
"Oros will stall to keep you here. And if you remain trapped, believe me when I say you will not survive long enough to see the next window. You will be studied until the next twenty-sixth year, in which case the High Councilor will plan an expedition to your side."
John stared at some spot on the floor as he absorbed the situation. "Does this affect any other Stargates on your side?"
"No. This is the only planet in the star system this close to the sun. And no matter which address we dial, we always travel to our alternate version. You may rest easy, Colonel Sheppard: it's a closed loop."
John hid a shudder. The answer was clear. "We'll destroy the Gate on our end. Throw it right in the sun."
Lorric nodded. "Yes. That would be best." He disengaged the cell and gave the bowl of green paste to John. The man took it with a faint grimace.
"I must leave now, but I will return in a few cycles to escort you to the Gate," Lorric said.
"You have to help them, too," John said, gesturing to the empty cages around them.
The Overseer went still.
"You know where all the codes are to disengage their gloves, right?"
Without the haze of the energy field John could see surprise clearly in the Ancient's eyes. "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"
"Why help me at all if you won't help them?"
"Helping one lone human is one thing, but freeing the Wraith? And if we accomplish what you're suggesting, what then? They escape to feast upon all the humans of the Galaxy? You trade one species' imprisonment with the other's."
"Not if you take the retrovirus in my blood and give it to everyone," John said. "I'm sure that woman has all the samples needed to reconstruct what we created on our side. No one has to die. Well," he amended, "a few Ancients might in the process."
Lorric was quiet, pockmarked face a mask.
"In our reality humans and Wraith came together to end a war that would've destroyed all civilizations," John pressed. "Yeah, it took lots of death on both side before we learned to work together without backstabbing." If we are ever to work together, we cannot be half-allies, Teyla had said at the tipping point. "Maybe releasing the Wraith might cause problems now, but shouldn't the possibility of peace outweigh that?"
"There is much bad blood between Ancient and Wraith." The Overseer drew out each word like someone pulling wires from a bomb. Or bones from a coffin. "I doubt there could be any peace."
"All it starts is with common ground," John said. "Maybe freeing them will break the cycle of violence. It's your choice, Lorric. You said it yourself you thought you'd lost something: maybe it's time to change that."
Lorric didn't look at John as he stepped out of the cell and reengaged the energy field. The stink of ozone filled the air. "What you suggest will take time. It may take more than you have."
"Let's plan on making it work."
As the Overseer left John wondered if he'd gone too far. Asking the Ancient to betray his people all because of the unjust treatment of the Wraith? For a second the idea of killing Lorric to get the codes crossed his mind. Then he shook his head. No. Nothing would be accomplished that way. And if the Wraith saw it was an Ancient helping them, then maybe . . .? John scrubbed a hand through his messy hair, leaving it more disheveled than before. Even if this half-boiled plan worked, there was no way of knowing how the rest of the story would play out.
John collapsed on the edge of his pallet, only now noticed how his legs shook. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and touched his chest gingerly, keeping clear of the wound edges where the numerous Wraith had fed. They weren't healing. He looked away and re-buttoned his shirt. He hoped the shakes would wear off soon: the internal hurt throbbed like ice left on skin too long, a cold burn he couldn't shake off.
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It was hard to count the passage of time without dissolving into worry. The man tried not to notice time slipping from his fingers and tried to go over the steps of the plan in his head. Not that it helped. As far as plans go, he'd seen swiss cheese with less holes in it. When Guide and the rest of the Wraith returned John forced himself to remain sitting. He eyed the Overseers. None of them were Lorric. Guide could barely wait for the guards to leave before turning to him.
"Well, Colonel Sheppard?"
John took a breath. "I may have a plan. But I've a feeling you're not going to like it."
When John told him about Lorric, the Wraith's eyes went wide, the pupils thinning to hairline slits. "You told an Overseer?" He staggered upright. "You fool! Death would be welcome after the tortures they would inflict!"
"Personally I like to go with what I know until something better shows up. Right now? This is all we got. I don't have much further to live if I don't get out of here, and neither do you."
"I do not anymore, thanks to your betrayal," the Wraith hissed. "You've killed us all."
"Don't be so negative," John said, fighting his own nerves. He checked his watch and guessed he had about six hours left to get home, maybe less.
"This entire plan hinges on the goodwill of a single Ancient? You are mad," Guide snarled. He was pacing again with short, angry jerks. A Wraith somewhere growled.
"I know what this looks like, but—"
The barrack doors hissed open. John released the breath he hadn't known he was holding. It was Lorric.
A fine sheen of sweat covered the Overseer's forehead as he appeared before John's cell. "We must go. Now."
"What about the Wraith?" John asked.
Lorric's eyes flicked towards Guide. "I've uploaded a code in the centralized hub that's set to overload the locking mechanism of the gloves. Once they are released . . . this will set another conflict in motion. But eventually a day comes when you have to answer what you've done," he said, now turning to address John. "Many of us disagree with High Councilor Oros' tactics. We agree the retrovirus taken from your blood should be administered to everyone. Perhaps . . . perhaps without the threat of constant death, that could allow the Wraith to govern themselves in a free state away from all this. Perhaps the retrovirus will be the key in this reality as it is in yours, Colonel Sheppard."
Guide's expression had become sphinx-like again, emoting nothing.
"What's your choice, Todd?" John said when the silence stretched.
"This could still very well be a trap," the Wraith said. He still hadn't taken his eyes off the Overseer.
"When I remove that glove, I'll prove to you it isn't," the Ancient said, voice like gravel.
The Wraith's eyes narrowed. John wanted to believe he knew Guide enough to read him, but as the Wraith regarded the Ancient, the man realized he'd have more luck reading a stone. At last Guide said, "Very well. I will go, but only with the understanding I will return again to free my people, including the Wraith you are starving outside."
Lorric nodded, like one soldier to another. Seconds later the field of John's cell shut off. The man stepped through, wincing as one of his chest wounds caught against his inner shirt. He turned and found the Wraith deep in telepathic communication with his second in command. Both stood very close to each other. Outside of a soft growl or low hiss, neither projected any readable emotion, standing as marble statues.
Lorric stepped close to John. "You take a risk. You have only about five cycles left before the window closes."
John shook his head. "Can't leave a man behind."
The Overseer studied him, but didn't respond. He then moved away and lifted his hand over the sensor to drop the fields to Guide's cell. It hovered there for a moment, fingers curling. Both Wraith turned to watch, their yellow eyes shadowed. Then the hand swiped and the cell went dark. Guide stepped into the open. He loomed over Lorric by a solid foot, teeth bared that could've been a smile or grimace.
The Overseer didn't blink. "Your hand."
After a hesitation, the Wraith gave it. The Ancient took it and pressed his fingers into the black material. After a second, he stepped back. "It's deactivated. You may take it off whenever you like. However, I suggest you keep it on until we've reached the outskirts of the City in case we're spotted."
Guide clenched a fist and said nothing.
"Let's go," Lorric said. "We must hurry—if we time it right, I may create a diversion at the change of guards so you two may slip away."
"Do we get weapons?" John asked.
The Overseer shook his head. "We'll have to pray we aren't spotted."
The three of them left the prison barracks and hurried down the empty corridor. It felt there was a hole in John's lungs. Not good, he thought, trying to hide his breathing from the others. He was glad they stopped just outside the tunnel. His heart knocked against his ribs.
"Follow me," Lorric said. "And keep to the shadows."
Like sneaking through Atlantis, John thought. Nothing to it. Sweat bead his forehead and stung his eyes. Whenever Lorric hissed he dropped down and waited the few heartbeats before moving again, the Wraith shadowing his every move. Darkness filled the hallways, the lights dimmed in nighttime mode. Lorric eventually led them through corridors John didn't recognize, every so often passing a stainglass window. The night sky shone through them, dark and warped.
They slipped into a hanger bay. Puddle Jumpers rested in perfect intervals along the walls, reminding John of cows in a stable. Dim lights lit their way as they crept in the shadows of the ships. They were nearly at the other end when Lorric stopped them. Two sentries guarded the passage out, their expressions a mixture of boredom and profession disinterest.
Lorric nodded at John. "I'll distract the guards. When they're gone, activate the door and don't stop until you reach the main road. I will meet you after."
Then the Ancient stood up and walked into plain view, calling to the two sentries. The two perked up, one of them hailing Lorric almost cheerfully. When they became in conversational distance they seemed to discuss a matter before all three of them pulled away.
John nodded at Guide. "C'mon. It's now or never."
The two of them sneaked towards the door. Despite his large height and poor clothes, the Wraith was nearly soundless besides John. When the reached the doors John noticed the same type of activating panel in Atlantis' own hanger bay. He swiped his hand over it. A moment later the doors hissed into life, unfolding back. Cool wind met his cheek, smelling of slightly metallic rain. He closed his eyes. Out!
When he reopened them he thought he caught the Wraith regarding him carefully. John pretended not to notice and motioned Guide to follow him. Together they left the metal walkway John had walked to enter the city days ago and huddled in a shadowed nook. John tried to focus on the escape and not on how his legs felt they belonged to an eighty year old. He rubbed a cramp out of one, wincing.
Neither spoke as they waited for Lorric, the space between them filled with an inward silence that seemed wrong to break. Then Lorric dropped down next to John, belaying a rough grace the man hadn't expected from an Ancient of later years.
"We'll move at the shift change," the Overseer said. "I have allies who will look the other way as we pass." At John and Guide's shifting, Lorric added, "I'm not the only one to believe the way I do. Just the first to act upon it."
After several moments Lorric tapped John's shoulder and they hurried toward the city's edge, towards the dark fields away from the city's glow. As metal walkway began to turn into road John saw the cage. The city lights marked the Wraith curled inside.
"Get him out," Guide said, voice velveted steel. There was no mistaking the menace. "Now."
Lorric went to a panel on the side of the translucent cage. "Colonel Sheppard," he softly called. When John went to his side the Ancient said, "You'll need to open it. If I did, they'll recognize my signature and know."
"Just like that? Aren't there extra security measures in place?" John asked.
The Ancient half-smiled. There was no humor there as he said, "No Wraith have tried before. And even if they had attempted to force an Overseer to open a door, the fear of us detonating the gloves keep them in check."
"Aren't they going to trace all the deactivations to you, though?"
The pockmarked Ancient smile became genuine, but there was something sad about it. "I have my allies in this, others who disagree with the High Councilor. I have someone manning the hub. She's providing the codes."
John swiped his hand over the panel. The door hissed open. He covered his nose and stepped back as a sour wave of old sweat and starvation washed over him. Guide roughly shoved him aside and reached inside. As John watched the tall Wraith helped the prisoner out, he wondered if it would be more humane to shoot the damn thing and put him out of his misery.
"You must help him. He still lives," Guide said after a moment. "You gave me your word, Sheppard."
John coughed. "I don't ever remember going that far."
Guide rounded on him, expression thunderous.
Lorric went to John's side. "We're running out of time," he said. "If we do this, we do this now."
The man grimaced. "Fine. Okay."
"Hold him. I'm going to deactivate his glove," Lorric said to Guide. The nearly dead Wraith didn't move as Lorric pressed fingers into the matte material, nor when Guide removed the glove entirely. Guide pressed his feeding hand against the other Wraith's chest.
"He is too weak to feed. We must do this another way," Guide said.
Before John could respond Guide flashed to his side and ripped some of his shirt aside. John tried to block the attack but the Wraith was too quick. Or I'm too slow, was the last coherent thought John had before Guide slammed the feeding hand against him.
It was like getting hit by a truck, except the truck was on fire, and he was on fire already. A hand clapped over his mouth, stifling his shouts. His vision exploded. When his sight returned he was on his back, staring up at the dark filament. For a single moment John thought of Holland, slowly bleeding out in his lap under an unfamiliar Afghanistan sky. He could still remember the metallic smell of his friend's blood. The smell filled his nose now.
Then Lorric hovered over him, jarring him from the memory.
"We thought we lost you for a moment," the Ancient said as he helped John in a sitting position. A wave of dizziness rushed over John not unlike nausea.
When he swallowed down the urge to vomit John said, "Yeah, me too." Then the fog in his eyes cleared and he realized what he thought were a low cluster of stars were actually the city lights flickering in the distance. Grasses swayed all around him. He looked behind him and saw the Stargate as a silhouette against the deep blue of the night sky. He almost didn't believe it.
"He carried you all the way to the Gate," Lorric said, glancing towards Guide standing nearby.
"Apologies, Colonel Sheppard," the Wraith said with a shallow bow. Enough of his tone was contrite. "I had to feed on you. A moment later and my scientist would have been dead."
John glanced at the Wraith he supposedly saved, watching as the ex-prisoner standing on unsteady legs.
"Well, give a man some warning next time," John said.
The Ancient's hand were firm as he helped John to his feet. He staggered for a moment, feeling the world tilt beneath his boots. John looked down at his chest and was surprised to find unblemished skin. Even more surprising was how well he felt.
"I returned what I could spare back to you," the Wraith said when the man turned to him. "I can see why my counterpart respects you. Even if we should all perish in this endeavor," he said, stepping close, "I thank you. I am in your debt."
John cleared his throat. "Thank Lorric, not me. He's the one who got us out."
Wraith and Ancient regarded each other carefully. As John watched, he couldn't help but wonder if he was looking at his past. How improbable it was back then, a partnership between human and Wraith. Who knew that fateful meeting would become the shape of things to come between the Wraith factions and Atlantis, of the whole Pegasus galaxy?
"You guys are gonna have to play nice while I'm gone," John said. "Once your scientist figures how to reverse engineer the retrovirus, disseminate it. It won't bring you immortality, but it may help save lots of people."
"The first thing is to rescue the Queens still locked in the bowels of the City," the Wraith said. He smiled with his teeth at Lorric. "We know you haven't killed them all."
"We will discuss," the Overseer said gravely. "But first, this is where we part ways, Colonel Sheppard. Once you've reached your timeline I suggest waiting a cycle before dialing other coordinates."
"What's going to happen to you?" John asked.
The Overseer's smile was fleeting. "My life was forfeit the moment I decided to help you. And yet, I feel more alive than I have in years. How can you explain that?"
John shifted, thinking of when he'd stolen a helicopter to go after Holland. He never regretted breaking those orders, even as his desertion darkened his record. He could respect the Overseer for doing what he felt was right, even at the cost of everything he knew.
"I may know a thing or two about that," John said.
Lorric smiled. "The Wraith is right. Even if we die tomorrow, a change was needed." He then went over and dialed the Stargate. Glowing blue light washed over them.
John didn't stop to look back as he walked through the rippling horizon, closing his eyes at the last second. When he stepped through the other side he didn't dare open them, for a horrible, horrible second thinking he would find he hadn't gone anywhere, that it was just one big universal prank. But dust and sand stung his nose. He opened his eyes and found the desolation from before. A dry wind made sand hiss about his legs.
The city was dead.
John resisted the urge to collapse in relief.
He took no chances. Despite his eagerness to go home he made himself comfortable by the Stargate steps. He set his watch for an hour and a half and waited in the dark, listening to the sounds the desert. It struck him he would never find out what would happen to the alternative Pegasus. A part of him wondered, but a greater part couldn't wait to throw the Stargate directly into the sun. He still wished he could've seen the look on Oros' face once he realized John had escaped. He hoped that Guide would feed on him.
The sky was beginning to lighten when John plugged in his IDC. He smiled as he received the confirmation ping from Atlantis' side, already deciding to tell Beckett he wasn't going to spend another minute in the med bay. No sir. If someone needed him, he'd be in his quarters, having much needed rest time with the woman and boy he loved.
I'm coming home, Teyla, he thought, then walked through the Stargate.
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-fin-