Chapter 10
"Democracy is the art of thinking independently together"
An unsettling sensation washed over his mind, as he struggled to remember what had hit him. Clawing up from the slumbers of the deep, he had difficulty focusing on where he was and how he'd got there. It certainly didn't feel as if he were lying in his bed in Atlantis, or finding himself in the infirmary after being severely injured. There wasn't the normal antiseptic smell that he associated with waking up there. But something was familiar; he just couldn't put his finger on it. As the fog began to lift, his memories began seeping back like a trickle of water flowing through an obstructed stream until it began gathering momentum; then it him like a bolt out of the blue. The musty dank smell that filtered through his nostrils assaulting his senses was his first clue that not everything was as it seemed. His second; lying on a stone cold floor with aches and pains culminating from being battered around in the jumper and then shot at - not to mention the lovely bump beginning to form at the base of his skill. He gingerly opened his eyes, partly out of apprehension, but also from the pounding in his head. He didn't know how long he'd been out of it, but it was certainly long enough to cause his body to stiffen. Closing his eyes once more, he tried to take it all in. Everything he'd tried to do up to this point had been for nothing, and he'd just about had enough. Waking up in a jail cell was all too reminiscent of the last, and if this was how his finally days were to end, then so be it. He was just about past the point of caring. Berating himself inwardly for the negative thoughts, he let out a slow releasing breath to calm the dark thought from building up inside him.
The last thing he remembered was the Wraith being gunned down in front of him, with Kolya standing laughing; as if it to him it was and always had been just a game of cat and mouse. Kolya! He sat up sharply, then wished he hadn't as the room swayed slightly from getting up too fast. Bile rose in the back of his throat, and his stomach felt hollow; like a black pit of emptiness gorging on nothing but bad memories at seeing his companion killed before his very eyes. He'd alienated his family, probably lost his career and killed a friend. And what did he have to show for his efforts? Nothing. Kolya was still alive, taunting him as he'd so frequently done before and he was going to be left to rot in a stinking jail cell and all because of his self-inflicted obsession. Good one, John! You had him in your sight, and you let him slip right through your fingers. Bringing his hands up to cup his face, he felt a cold metal band tied to his wrists and his legs. If he'd any plans of getting the hell out of there, it was cut short in its prime. The chains clunked together as he tried to pry the shackles from the wall. It was more out of something to do as opposed to being realistic about his current situation. Nothing he did seemed to work, so he tried it again, harder this time until jagged metal edges began digging into his wrists causing tiny welts of blood to slick the restraints that detained him.
Negative thoughts and fears entered his head; this was a really bad plan. That's the understatement of the year! The foreboding, damp prison cell was all too similar to the last one, and the odour was overpowering; obviously sanitation was at the bottom of the Genii's list. As he shuffled his body back to lean on the slimey brick wall, he rubbed his eyes tiredly then allowed his fingers to massage the bridge of his noes as in an effort to erase the headach that blurred his vision. Shadows of light danced in hallway, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Looking down by his legs, something caught his vision, his heart pounded in his chest; beads of sweat surfaced on his forehead as the resident creatures found their way into his cell. If he stayed here for much longer, the Genii wouldn't have a need to kill him, the bugs scuttling across the floor would do it for them. God he hated bugs, none more so than the alien variety. This was not the way he wanted to end his final days. John shivered involuntarily - Damn bugs! Stomping hard on what looked to be a large cockroach type of insect moving towards him, Sheppard was certain it had a glint in his eyes, apparently sizing up its next meal. I don't think so! Crushing it vigorously with both feet, he sorted that problem out quick enough as the bug's outer casing crunched under the weight over his boots. He cringed at the mental image that it left behind; he was definitely going to be sleeping with one eye on the ground tonight. He brought his hands up, gingerly running them through his tousled hair, carefully ensuring not to disturb the clotting wound on his forehead. He was just having a bad day, a really bad and completely crappy day. But, as someone once told him, it was always darkest before the Dawn. He still had a job to do, and he relied on that thought to keep him from going nuts in the all too familiar hellhole he found himself in.
Reminiscing of the times he'd spent enslaved, he could count on one hand; this would make it his third stint if he remembered correctly, and it wasn't exactly difficult given the circumstances of each and every incarceration. The first, being thrown into an Afghan jail, just outside Kandahar by some Taliban who just didn't seem to appreciate his reasons for being there. Held up for weeks in a prison not too dissimilar to this one, the only difference was, it didn't have any alien bugs that felt the need to siphon his life force and latch themselves to his neck. Instead, the bugs indigenous to Afghan prisons seemed to be venomous spiders and sand flies that had burrowed in his skin, which had laid him up for months after the bites became infected. He wasn't even going to think about the body lice - just the thought about it made him scratch, and that was just what he had to contend with in his cell. It didn't even compare to the interrogation techniques that he'd been forced to endure on a daily basis. If it hadn't been for an extraction team, he wondered if he would've been left to fend for himself. He bowed his head in reflective silence at the memory. It wouldn't have been so bad if Holland had made it, but he hadn't and he didn't want to dwell on that fact; it was still too raw and painful to even think about it. Recalling the memory of only a week ago, he raised his hand unconsciously to his chest, the feeding mark now only just beginning to fade. He scrunched his eyes closed and tried to shake of the feeling that his only purpose in life was to end up rotting in a place like this.
He tried pulling on the metal chains one more time, but all they did was cut more into his wrists, he shouted out in frustration, "Damn it!"
"Do not waste your energy Sheppard."
For a moment the voice startled him, he thought he'd been alone all this time. He turned as far as he could and tried to peer into the shadows; his eyes barely made out a shadowy figure lying supine across the other side of the room. Instinctively he knew who it was. It was clear that his companion was gravely injured. There was none of the power in his voice that had been so constant on the surface. Given that he'd seen the man fall to the ground, his body riddled with gunshots, he was surprised, and bizarrely pleased that the man was still alive and that he was no longer alone. "Are you okay?"
"No."
Okay, well that was succinct. "Care to elaborate?" he asked, not only out of concern, but he also needed to know if the man was in any fit state to try and make a break for it, if or when the time came; a flicker of hope crept into his mind.
"I am dying."
He let the words sink in, before trying to think of something positive to say, not just for the Wraith's peace of mind, but also for his own sanity. And although not strictly peppy, he wasn't prepared for the Wraith to give up just yet. "What-have-I-told-you-about-being-negative? I'm not having any of that dying crap. We've been in the same situation before and got out alive, and we'll damn well do it again." The Wraith didn't reply. Sheppard waited for some sign of acknowledgement, but none was forthcoming.
Things seemed to be going from bad to worse. He could hear laboured heavy breathing coming from the adjacent wall, and it really hit home just how badly injured the Wraith was. He tried to make his way over to where he was lying; he needed to see for himself just how badly hurt his companion was, but his efforts were wasted – he was going nowhere. The sweat and dirt embedded in his bloodied thigh burned as he tried to move nearer and the restraints tied to his wrists made it damn near impossible to move more than a few feet. Gritting his teeth against the pain he tried to shrug it off, but it was becoming damn near impossible, what he wouldn't give right now for a shot of morphine. He had to concentrate on a viable plan to get them out of there, and fast; time was running out. He closed his tired eyes and felt a heavy weight settling on his chest from mixed emotions. They were trapped, helpless and alone; he could do no more, but sit and wait in the silence until his executioner came, or by some miracle his team. Given the time that had elapsed since he'd left Atlantis it now seemed highly unlikely. He drifted off, half in and out of consciousness, he desperately needed to sleep, but now wasn't the time or place and he kept forcing himself to stay awake. He ignored his bodies craving for the much-needed rest and it was only the thoughts of what was to come that staved off the exhaustion. He didn't know how much time had passed, but he didn't have to wait for very long until he became aware of the vibrations on the ground.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Heavy footsteps echoed onto the stone floor, and Sheppard realised that they were having company. The lights to their jail cell flickered on, only slightly illuminating their current confine, but it was enough to make out whom their visitor was. The keys rustled in the metal lock, and then the door swung open revealing a willowy figure stepping forward with a wry grin on his face. Sheppard was as ready as he was ever going to get.
"Colonel Sheppard, I must say, to see you like this is something of a surprise." Kolya had noted his appearance almost immediately on his capture and was more than surprised to see the ageing of the man reversed. It piqued his curiosity in more ways than one, and planned to ensure that he received the answers on how he had attained his youthful appearance once more – it definitely deserved more study.
Raw emotions rose to the surface; he detested this man with a passion. As his voice grew darker, he wanted nothing more than to wipe the snide smile from his captors face. "What can I say, I age gracefully. Look, Kolya let's cut to the chase shall we? Whatever the hell you're planning, I suggest you do it now before I get the opportunity to do just what I said I would. And believe me, this time I won't hesitate." It wasn't a blasé statement, he meant every word; each point enunciated so that his message was heard loud and clear.
Kolya's expression exuded an air of superiority, "I like your confidence. But given your current position, I find it highly unlikely that even the redoubtable Colonel John Sheppard could escape this time. So would you like to explain first why you are here and how you found me? And secondly, how the aging process was reversed." Sheppard remained silent, "Or will it be necessary to release the Wraith from its bindings once more? Given its state of ill-health, I'm sure it would relish the opportunity to finish what it started."
Sheppard bit back, his acerbic sarcastic wit was now flowing with animosity, "Things have changed, Kolya, but you go right ahead and see what you get for your efforts. I would have thought that killing several of your inept guards the last time we took you on was enough to show you that. Or maybe you just need another demonstration?" he eyed the guards who had manhandled him. Speaking with complete sincerity, his eyes burning with anger he finished, "And believe me, I'm more than happy to oblige."
"That may well have been the case on our previous encounter, colonel, but I think you'll find that the creature has a lot more to lose this time. It's interesting the things I have learned regarding the Wraith, and of your culture. I have found that to truly know your enemy it's important to study their past. I must say, your world has some colorful literature. Were you aware that I traded some supplies to gain access to some of your world's history and works of fiction, which I understand you gave to the Ka'Tarian people as barter? I found one particular story remarkably fitting. Do you know the fable of the scorpion and the frog?"
He remembered the Ka'Tarians, Teyla had introduced them to him months ago, and given their lack of reading material, she had thought it appropriate to give the children of the planet something quite different. John looked at him nonchalantly, he had no idea what bearing this had on anything, but given Kolya's own nature it wasn't surprising that he would refer to that particular one. It didn't matter though; he knew the Wraith wouldn't betray him, no matter what the cost.
The guard brought in a chair for their commander to sit on, knowing full well neither prisoner could break free from their restraints. The interrogation was only just beginning; his actions were meticulous and commanding as he relayed the fable, "You see, this scorpion asks the frog to help him cross the river. However, due to its deadly nature the frog is naturally cautious, and fears being bitten and subsequently killed. The scorpion reassures him, saying that he would never do such a thing, and needs his help to continue his journey."
"I know the story, Kolya. Do you have a point to all of this?" He was growing impatient and was more than aware of just where the Genii commander was heading.
Kolya ignored him; he wanted the man to hear the fable loud and clear, as it bore a direct correlation to the young soldiers' current standing. "You see, after agreeing to help the scorpion, they swam across the river together until the scorpion inexplicably stung the frog. When asked why did you do that, now we will both die. The scorpion simply replied… it is just my nature. So you see, colonel, I am fully aware of the Wraith's natural instincts, more so than you it seems." His calculating smile was now firmly in place as he leaned forward towards his captive audience, "And you seem to forget that I have been his master for several years, and he will do as I say, no matter what bond you believe you have developed."
Okay, if that's the way you want it, two can play at that game. His dry sense of humour came out in full force, "Interesting. So what you're actually saying is you're the frog, oh and by the way I can definitely see the resemblance – cold, slimy, and my personal favourite - hides from its predators. So that in effect would make me the scorpion," and with that, Sheppard ended with a noxious smile, making his last point crystal clear, "And believe me, my sting can be very deadly."
Pushing his chair out of the way, Kolya got within several feet of him as if daring him to make a move. "Very clever analogy, colonel, but you forget your place. I am not the one chained to a wall with a dying Wraith close at hand. I can assure you no one will be able to help you this time."
Even though he wasn't sure if Elizabeth had given the go-ahead for his friends to come looking for him, his words were resolute, "Don't bet on it."
A dark deep filled hatred burned behind his chocolate brown eyes, as he leaned in closer, "When we last met I assured you it wasn't personal, this time it is. By the time I'm finished I will make you beg for mercy, and you will wish you had never returned."
Sheppard stood his ground, "You just keep telling yourself that."
A dark smirk befell his features as he told him with the utmost sincerity, "Oh don't you worry, colonel, I will." With that the Genii commander walked away, his taut posture revealing that he was also prepared to do what it takes to attain the answers he desired.
The jail door grinded along its metallic rails slamming shut behind him; he would leave the young dark haired soldier to contemplate his demise.
The colonel stole a look across the dingy cell, the Wraith hadn't moved from his original position. He called out to him, hoping that he would answer. Scraped boots shifted on the concrete floor, which was always a good sign, it meant that at least he was still alive. But for how long was anyone's guess. "Hey! You still with us?"
Three words escaped from his lips, "He is right."
Okay, I really didn't need to know that. And since their whole endeavour started, he felt uneasy at his friend's choice of words. Trying to act as nonchalantly as possible, he shifted his position to look the man directly in the eyes; he needed to know one way or another whether the Wraith had now gone from ally to foe. And he was dreading the answer, "Which part?"
For the first time since Sheppard woke up, he watched as the Wraith attempted to sit up. "We are alone."
Sheppard smiled reflectively, relief clearly showing in his expressive hazel eyes. He knew he wasn't wrong about him. "Look, I know we're in a bit of a jam at the moment, but it's nothing that we haven't faced before."
"My wounds are deep," he stated as a matter of fact. "I have not fed in some time, and you to are injured." With concerted effort, he inched towards the young man, yanking the chains along the dusty floor, until the two of them were almost side-by-side. "What of your friends? Will they not be coming for you as they did the last time?"
"I don't know," it was a truthful answer, one that he'd been contemplating since he woke up. "I didn't exactly leave on good terms," he replied wistfully, thinking back to his conversation with his team.
The Wraith lowered his eyes as if contemplating a part of his past, "They would not abandon you. This much I know."
He lifted his eyebrows at the revelation, letting out a sardonic laugh, "I told them I didn't want their help. And I have to say; I'm starting to regret those words. I was pretty angry with them," he never was one to share his feelings; it was an inbuilt safety mechanism to stop from getting hurt. With the Wraith it was different, he had a feeling that he just might comprehend what was going on in that head of his when no one else seemed to, "it's just…they didn't understand."
Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he told him truthfully, "I to have struggled to return home since our meeting. For years I dreamt of a life outside the confines of these walls - to be returned to my kind. You are fortunate to have your friends. No one came for me."
Sheppard looked on sadly, he was right. His friends had always been there for him in the past, but he'd recently lost sight of that. Even though his bizarre actions had cost him dearly, he knew that his team would be there for him in his time of need. Their eyes locked. For the first time since awakening his species, he actually began to feel pity for him. Outcast amongst his peers and family with no chance of reconciliation, he felt a connection with him go deeper than it ever had with his own family. He struggled to find the words to ease his burden, "I'm sorry."
Staring into the pilots' concerned features, a look of resignation overtook him; he was dying. And if the soldier had any chance of survival he had to leave him behind. "When you find a way to escape, John Sheppard there is one thing I want you to do for me."
When 'you' find a way to escape? John didn't like the sound of that. He made it sound as if he was giving up without a fight. They'd come too far to give up now, and he wasn't prepared to leave him behind; he corrected him, "When we escape."
He shook his head sombrely; "You must continue your quest alone."
"No!" he stood up sharply ignoring the protesting pain in his leg. He could feel the blood trickle down his thigh, but he ignored it. "I'm not leaving you to die in this place." He paced back and forth as much as his confines would allow, it felt slightly reminiscent of the last time they were together at the mercy of Kolya. There was only one way he could think of to keep his friend alive, but it would mean placing all his trust in him.
