Thanks for the reviews, they really encourage me to keep writing. Thanks again to my beta shepsgirl72, you really are a star!
Well, has Nessan changed? Can the bad guy have turned good? The answer will be shortly be revealed...
COLLABORATIONS
CHAPTER 10
The half-empty bowl of stew lay congealed in the bowl, discarded on the tray alongside most of the bread. Only the jug of water was empty, the remaining liquid left in the glass, which sat upon the table beside Sheppard's pale, gaunt figure dozing peacefully on top of the bed.
Nessan sat heavily onto the slated chair where he'd spent many nights caring for his nemesis through the worst of the fever. His back ached after picking potatoes all day, and he was exhausted by the long hours working in the field. However, in a strange way, Kolya quite enjoyed being back at work, as the warm rays of the sun felt good against his skin, and the fresh air a welcome relief after so long spend cooped up in this stuffy little room. He was also happy to be finally freed of his task as carer, because although traces of the sickness still lingered, Sheppard was now almost fully recovered.
The monastery was preparing for the Festival of the Chosen, and there was an unusual air of excitement about the place. Even the faithful, who only ever seemed to work and eat, saying little beyond 'please' or 'thank you' had begun to chat, smile even, with the main topic always the same…who would be lucky enough to be chosen to serve. If it wasn't for the festival, Malen would probably have made him stay, and continue to take care of his brother. However, the proceedings were due to start tomorrow and all the able bodied men, including most of the monks, were needed to bring in the remainder of the harvest before the selection ritual took place in three days time.
Hearing the bed creak as its occupant stirred, Nessan saw Sheppard's sleepy hazel eyes start to open.
"You know, Sheppard, how do you expect to recover when you don't eat enough? Brother Frama will be hurt when he sees what you've left."
After caring for the man for days, Nessan could now read Sheppard like a book. Unlike most people, Sheppard always made light of his symptoms, said he felt good, when he obviously wasn't, and the grimace he quickly tried to hide, told him he must still be suffering from headaches, due to the low-grade fever, which despite Brother Frama's best efforts, still continued to linger.
"So, Nessan, why the visit…did you miss me today?" John yawned, as he propped himself up against the pillows.
"I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure Frama was keeping up my good work…and you hadn't escaped without me. By the way, where has your team got to anyway?"
Sheppard held his gaze, defiant. "Don't know. Something serious must have happened, otherwise they would have been here by now. But they'll come…we never leave a man behind."
Kolya smirked. "Does that include me?"
"Of course. But as they've obviously been held up, what do you say we work on our own escape plan…just in case. Actually, Nessan, if you think about it, you might prefer that idea, because if they come first I would have to arrest you, and you'd spend, oh, the next ten years or so in our brig. But if we work together and reach the gate ourselves, I'd let you have a get out of jail free card, and you could dial any address you want, go your own way, make a fresh start." John saw Nessan look interested. "We both know there's more to you than someone who's handy with a belt. I honestly believe in a new place, where no one knows your past, anything could be possible…a new life…maybe even a family. There's only one condition. I want my dog tags back…and my name. If you want another identity, there are plenty of other names to choose from…how about Kavanagh for example? Nessan Kavanagh…now don't you think that has a nice ring to it?"
"You are a surprising man, John. Why after everything I've done would you save my life and let me go?"
John turned around and pushed his legs over the side of the bed, so he could look Nessan in the eye.
"I believe there's no such thing as black and white…only shades of grey, I also believe in second chances." He smiled when he remembered Elizabeth Weir. "A nice lady give me a break once…it may not have saved my life, but it sure as hell gave me a better one. I figure with a second chance you could give up being the bad guy and start again. As for forgiving you…I don't know if I can, but if my team don't come in time, I'll settle for never seeing you again. Just one thing…exactly when and how for that matter, did I save your life? Was I out of it so long I missed something?"
Nessan looked at John, surprised he didn't remember. "When we were lying in the cellar, after the punishment, you didn't know who got cut with the poisoned knife, yet you chose to help me first…why?"
"Honestly, I don't know. It just seemed the right thing to do…and I really did expect you to return the favour." John grimaced just thinking about it.
"Did you really...after our history? I think you were deluding yourself. But no matter, just as there is inherent goodness in you, Sheppard, there is darkness in me. I'm not sure if I can change, but I appreciate the offer and after what we've been through, if we do make it to the Ancestral Ring, I think we'll what is it you say?…call it quits. Because as much as I was happy to take your name, I never want to see you again either. As for an escape plan, I think I may have already found a way out for both of us."
"Really…Okay, spill the beans…what is it?"
Nessan smiled. "Malen was waiting for me when I came back today. He was actually pleasant for once, and took me into his private chambers, poured me a glass of wine, then opened a cabinet which held a lot of old metal bits and pieces."
John could feel the hairs standing up at the back of his neck…guessing what Kolya was going to say next.
"Anyway, apparently when those bastard daggers were put away, the young monk forgot to clean them. When he finally remembered to do it, as he lifted them, some of the blood fell onto one of the bits of scrap making it glow. He was too frightened to tell his boss he'd forget to do his duty, so the young fool washed the daggers clean first, then told him, so now Malen can't be sure which one of us has the gift. I know it's not me, Sheppard, and since you told me you were the only one who could pilot that craft, it all makes sense. But, as far as the good father is concerned, as he believes I'm the pilot of the craft he assumes it was me, and wants my help awakening the rest of them."
"I told him I would only consider it if my partner could come with me, and on the condition that once the job was done, he let both of us go afterwards. Anyway, he agreed. Well…what do you say? I know you're not fully fit, but as there's no manual work involved, plus there's no more than twenty pieces, it shouldn't take you more than a couple of days."
Sheppard got up, walked over to the window and looked out into the courtyard below. After what Kolya had told him, he knew there was no point in denying his gift.
"No, Nessan. Some of those bits and pieces are dangerous. I don't know until I activate something what it does, and I don't want any potential weapons falling into their hands."
"Why do you care, Sheppard? It's our way out of here… in any case, most of them look broken."
"I said no. Look, Nessan, I want to escape as much as you…more maybe, because I think my people are in trouble. But I'm not going to do it at the expense of giving these people, who we know so little about, and who carved us up like a freaking turkey dinner, a potential weapon. We can escape working together, but I'm going to pass on this…sorry."
Kolya stormed up to John, grabbed his tunic and raged into his face. "Sorry! I give you the best chance we have of escaping, and all you have to say is sorry? If you don't agree to help me, Sheppard I'm just going to have to find another way to get the job done…and I know you don't like my methods."
Sheppard removed Nessan's hands and threw them down. "Don't you ever think about anyone apart from yourself? I'm no angel, Kolya…I've made mistakes, killed a lot of people, but never done anything out of self-interest. You wanted to change your life by taking my name…fine. But change only happens when you start thinking with your heart, and not just your head. Until you learn to deal with your past, and stop punishing others because of what others did to you, you'll never have a future, trust me…I know."
"Why should I? No one ever thought about me, so tell me, John…why should I care about anyone else?"
John sat on the bed, and looked up to see the all too familiar rage on Nessan's face. "What happened to you as a kid, how you were treated…was all wrong. But do you know something…that was their loss. There's more to you, Nessan, than a man with a bad attitude. I got to see it when you took care of me.…Deep inside of you is a caring, thoughtful man, and if you just let him loose a little more often, you could change your life. As my mom used to say, it's only when you consider the needs of others you actually help yourself."
"Oh, my…how sweet." Nessan sneered. "Hear this, Sheppard. I'm going to leave you now to shower, get changed and have something to eat. Malen told me he wants my decision by the morning…and that's exactly how long you have to change your mind…"
ooooOoooo
The manacles dug into his wrists, and the rough-hewn wooden pole scraped painfully against the laceration on his chest, as the monk's pulled the metal chains taut, so his arms were stretched to their limits high above his head and his feet dangled from the ground.
When he was pulled half asleep from bed this morning, John knew Nessan had made good on this threat, but of all the things he was expecting…a whipping didn't even make the top ten. It was barely even an hour ago when Malen told him that, due to the continued absence of their leader, the order had made a decision on his fate. He was to join the faithful, but in order to be worthy of service, due to his violent tendencies, he must first be cleansed of the evil within, so would receive ten lashes to purify his spirit.
Of course, Sheppard knew what the whipping was really about…Kolya found out his blood activated the ancient tech, so the sneaky bastard had obviously persuaded Malen to whip him, in exchange for his co-operation. However, what the Genii didn't know was although his blood may make it glow for a second…the tech wouldn't keep working unless he physically held it long enough for the piece to be initialised. Trouble was, if he told the monk the truth, Malen would know he was the one with the gene, and as he wasn't about to do what he wanted, the more John realised he would probably still be where he was right now…about to be punished.
As he felt the tunic ripped open, exposing his back to the cool morning air, John knew this wasn't going to be pleasant…Thick bands of leather hitting hard against your body never was…but on top of the previous lacerations, which were scarcely healed, this was really going to hurt. But instead of feeling afraid, he just felt really, really angry. Angry at himself for being so stupid to believe Nessan could change…angry because this wasn't the first time he'd given a Kolya a second chance. He remembered the siege of Atlantis when he could so easily have put a bullet through Acastus head as he held Elizabeth close to his chest. It would have been a simpler shot…but no…he just had to take the trickier target, winging the Genii commander, leaving him alive to mess up his life time and time again.
But as he saw Malen come forward in front of the assembled faithful to read out the punishment, Sheppard took slow steady breaths and looked straight ahead to the fields beyond, hoping that giving himself something to focus on would somehow lessen the pain.
"We are here this morning to welcome a new brother amongst us. However, in order to rid him of his previous transgressions and make him worthy of service, he must first be baptised by blood and fire. As you watch his pain, hear his cries of anguish…rejoice in them with me, knowing it is only through cleansing his spirit, can he join in union with you…his brothers."
At the sound of the word 'Fire.' John turned his head and saw the largest man he'd ever seen leave the ranks of the faithful, to approach him with a clear glass bottle in his hand.
"I baptise you my brother with the flames of redemption. Embrace your pain, for in it lies salvation. "John's heart started to race as he recognised the all too familiar smell of the liquid poured over his back, stinging his wounds…neat alcohol.
Not really wanting to see what was coming next, but unable to stop himself, Sheppard craned his head just in time to see the same man don a pair of long chain mail gloves, before plunging a long, thick, braided leather whip into a large urn. When it came out he saw there were four long strands of frayed, knotted cord attached to the end. John continued to watch, his heart hammering in his chest, as he watched the whip being shaken out, and each piece of cord separated and straightened by the man's strong hands before individually being set alight.
As he turned away, John could hardly hear for the sound of blood rushing through his ears, his throat suddenly dry at the thought of the torture to come. He could feel the heat from the flames as the man practised his technique, swirling the whip through the air, and flinched as the sparks stung his skin. His back was already aching when he heard the soft whisper of ripping flesh, felt the slick wetness of fresh blood where the barely healed lacerations split open under the strain. Already in pain, he knew there was worse to come, and come it did, as the stiff band of leather whooshed, gave an almighty crack, and hit hard…across his back. John gasped in agony, too shocked to scream, as the whip tore four long ripples of burning flames across his tender skin… blazing deep into his wounds
The next lash followed quickly, harder than the first, ripping him apart with its fiery bite… making him gag with the rancid smell of his own burning flesh. On and on the brutal assault continued, relentless and merciless, each lash tearing, searing into his skin, ripping him apart…making him groan. Tears, blinded him, as each fierce strike made him quiver, the excruciating pain of the whip made unbearable by the scorching flames rippling across his skin. He could scarcely breathe as the last vicious lash tore an agonised cry from his throat, and his body slumped against the pole, unable any longer to withstand the sadistic assault.
Shrouded in pain, barely able to focus, Sheppard was barely aware of Malen coming towards him raising his hand signalling the punishment to stop. But his agony continued, relentless in its persecution, as the flames smouldered on deep within the ragged lacerations, sending convulsions up and down his spine. He couldn't speak as he was lifted down, could barely see as his vision started to fade, but there was something he could hear the distance…and it was very familiar.
ooooOoooo
TBC...Well, the question about Nessan has been answered. Hope you enjoyed the whump...and please review.