Chapter 3
Are We Ourselves?
Teyla guided her two stumbling teammates down the large path. Within minutes of leaving the village, their conditions had deteriorated considerably. Sheppard and McKay followed the path by sheer stubbornness and willpower, her stubbornness and willpower. They tripped and twisted and fumbled for footing on the level ground as they made their way back to Stackhouse and the Gate. As they tripped along, the rain picked up and gusted into stinging shards of water causing her to squint. It did not deter her from her task.
Ronon scouted far enough ahead to find the clearest route. However, a net set by the Wraith was drawing around them and would soon ensnare them in this once friendly place. She could feel their icy presence stalking her team and closing off their escape route. They had to hurry in spite of her mostly incapacitated team members.
Stackhouse had sent them what limited intelligence he had as they pressed clumsily onward. In turn, they told him of their own troubles. Sadly, the colonel and Rodney tripping blindly along the path and announcing their presence with the clarity of a siren happened to be two of them. With such noise, the Wraith would find them all too soon. Not even the downpour which was partially hiding the troubling sounds would help if the Wraith lucked across their path. They needed a place to take cover and that was Ronon's other task as she babysat her two soaked, staggering and clumsy friends.
They did not banter.
They did not waste words on each other.
They did not stop for fear of never being able to move again.
She directed them with hands on their vests and nudges with her P90 on their flanks. She watched as they clutched their heads and bit down on outbursts of pain. She nudged them forward if they tried to stop. She listened for any other sound or lack there of in the area as she kept them moving along the path.
A new sound or set of sounds revealed just how exposed they were on the oversized trail. The Chell's land was not covered in forests but in scraggly scrub trees and low growing brush. The area was sandy and covered in weeds with nettles and thorns. She examined the road ahead of her. The rain was her only obstruction making it hard to see more than a couple of meters or so. Finally, a bulky, stampeding body ran at full speed towards them and motioned for them to hide.
She cast her gaze around frantically searching for anywhere better than the path. Since all of the shrubbery grew low to the ground and contained sparse vegetation, nothing on the side of the road provided safe harbor. She earnestly looked around and around and around.
Until she spotted it, a marker that the Chell used to signify a safe haven lay to one side of the narrow road amongst the brambles and spindly plants. Her relief drew a physical reaction. She smiled because Ronon's timing was impeccable.
Tagan had been a wonderful teacher and mentor. Her father had shared the important information when it became apparent she would follow him in leadership of her people after the inevitable happened. He had entrusted her with so many intimations and secrets of other races that she was prepared when it unhappily became her time to lead. A solitary black stone placed on the side of any major thoroughfare held the promise of safety during a culling. The secret he had shared would save their lives temporarily on this day. A foot's length away from the obsidian stone, an obscured capstone covered a hidey-hole from the Wraith just waiting for them to occupy it. Now, hopefully, it was not already occupied with Chell survivors. She grabbed the vests of Dr. McKay and Col. Sheppard and stopped them.
"Ronon, move the flat stone under that berry bush. A bunker or some sort of hiding spot should be under it," Teyla ordered.
He moved it swiftly and without reservation. She shoved her two nearly incapacitated teammates into the unknown one after the other and then she followed. Within seconds, Ronon also slipped into the dank, yet adequate hole. He replaced the stone as she turned on the flashlight attached to her P90. The hole was empty and big enough for them to sit and rest. It did not look as if any remaining Chell had made it out of the encampment. The ceiling was too low for any of the men to stand at full height but that was a small trade off for safety. A mounded roof provided slit windows which were hidden by the low growing plants covering the top of it. A dull light seeped in like the water had when Ronon opened the entrance. The walls were fortified by a sand and shell mixture so it would not collapse. She gave a silent thank you to her father and his wise guidance.
Her stricken teammates continued to groan until it gave way to uncharacteristic shrieking. They writhed on their knees as if in a state of religious fervor until their voices grew hoarse. The dirt on the floor turned into mud as the water dripped off of their bodies and churned under their gyrations. They were truly only able to focus on whatever was happening to them and they no longer noticed anything else. Whatever this was, it was happening to both simultaneously.
Still, the sudden outburst surprised her. "Colonel! Dr. McKay!" Teyla called to them trying in vain to get their attention.
She could hear Dr. McKay in her head saying, "Yes Teyla? We're busy right now writhing in excruciating pain. What can I do for you?" The two men clawed at their faces and heads and screeched as they collapsed onto the stone floor.
"Teyla! The Wraith will hear them!" Ronon snarled. "We need them to be quiet!" He drew his weapon to stun them if he had to, but both men fell silent as their heads connected with the floor of the hollow.
Teyla and Ronon stooped above their teammates with uncertain and fearful looks upon their faces. Water dripped off of them creating more mud on the floor. The sudden silence was more unnerving and shocking than the last half-hour of constant moans, gasps and staggering. Now, as they lay in a sort of uneasy rest on a dirty stone floor, it was as disquieting as anything in her previous experiences. Teyla would have preferred their screeching like birds of prey to the unnatural silence--
--even if it had brought the Wraith.
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After both of his experiences on the Hive ships, John Sheppard had become increasingly paranoid. She decided it was not without foundation.
Overdue again, thought Weir. That was nothing unusual or even worrisome. What was worrisome was the headache forming while the wormhole shimmered before her. The ripples of light attacked her optic nerves like little needles. She squinted, crinkled her nose, and listened to the repeated entreaties directed at the Gate. She tried to combat the sharp pain with rapid fire blinking. The tactic was not meeting with any measure of success. She would definitely go see Carson about this once the crisis was over.
Also, she could concede to herself no one answering was a tad worrisome as well.
"Col. Sheppard, come in," the young technician repeated for the third time with the same result. Static answered with its monotonous and lonely hiss.
Elizabeth placed her hand over her eyes to quell the sparkling light show celebrating the migraine of migraines in her eye sockets. She needed to find some other stress relieving techniques.
"Sgt. Stackhouse, please respond."
Crackle. Hiss. Crackle. Crackle. Hiss.
Elizabeth's head had its own translation.
Sparkle. Stab. Sparkle. Sparkle. Stab.
The empty airwaves thrummed in time with her dazzling, mind numbing pain.
"Ronon, Dr. McKay, Teyla, please come in."
Crackle. Hiss.
Stab. Stab.
"Atlantis, this is Sgt. Stackhouse. We have a prob--," was the last thing she heard before the pain in her head skewered her in the eye. She let out a shriek and grappled at her face with her nails. Her legs turned into jelly and pooled around her as she landed unconscious in an ungainly heap next to the startled gate technician.
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When John Sheppard was around two years old, he decided to find out what mystical and exciting things were on top of the chest of drawers in his room. Or so his mother had said, because he was not old enough to remember.
The desire to explore and push the limits seemed to go back to almost birth. He accomplished the desired feat by pulling out each drawer into an impromptu staircase. He climbed each step until his head peaked over the top of the skyscraping chest and he saw all the gifts that a two year old should not play with. Figurines, a cutesy Pooh Bear lamp and a couple of banks sat on top with not too much fanfare. It was a little disappointing. Or so his mother had said.
Unfortunately with all the drawers pulled out and his extra 25 to 30 pounds standing on the topmost drawer, the chest toppled sending all the cutesy things crashing to the ground. Fortunately for two year old John Sheppard, his mother chose that time to check up on her way too quiet son. While saying his full given name, she snatched him in mid-flight saving her son to face many other and more dangerous perils. Or so his mother had said at all the neighborhood parties until her death.
This seemed to be just the sort of peril that he constantly faced-- a very confusing and perilous one.
What had actually gotten his attention in the tent was the sensation of little tendrils of electricity maneuvering under his skull. It felt just like…
"I thought so too."
John Sheppard had always taken the offensive and controlled the situation to whatever extent he was able. This was one of those times he was at a loss. He really hated it.
They turned around and looked at the world as they could see it. The cotton candy cloud was back and, obviously, he was not as alone as he should be. As they turned, Sheppard noticed that this was definitely the test pattern.
"We've done this before,"
"I know."
"Is Elizabeth here?"
"I am."
Wherever they were, the turbulent, cloud rolled before them. The striations banded together in a multi-colored swirl until it settled into a scene from Earth. As the cloud took on shape and substance, each of them found themselves in a compartment of some sort. They were separated but could hear each others thoughts even if not directed at one another. Also feelings were broadcast loud and clear such as confusion and fear.
"We were just running for our lives on a soggy path, right?" Rodney asked.
"Yep, pretty much," Sheppard answered.
"I was calling you guys to report," inserted Elizabeth. "Late as usual."
"Fashionably, I hope."
"This is very familiar," Rodney stated haltingly. "And, not the good 'golly gee it smells like cookies' familiar."
"No, it's more the 'shit hitting the fan' familiar," asserted Sheppard. No one could argue with that.
A playground full of children formed out of the boiling cloud. Their laughter, squeals, and song flooded the trio's senses immediately.
"Ms. Mary Mack, Mack, Mack! All dressed in black, black, black!"
Sheppard, McKay and Elizabeth were partitioned from each other by invisible walls or a facsimile of them. At least the three could communicate, but they could not touch each other. It was like watching a play in personal box seats.
"With silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back, back!"
Elizabeth remembered the hand game from many a recess time in elementary school. Children on the swing sets, children on the merry-go-round, children on the monkey bars…
John's thoughts centered on that this was not the same hallucinations he had before which she found just as disconcerting as Rodney did. Rodney's thoughts centered on that this was too similar to his time in the Wraith chair. She could see the similarity.
Elizabeth remembered many an idyllic day spent screaming and laughing and chasing classmates until they were all red in the face. They were good memories.
"She asked her mother, mother, mother, for fifteen cents, cents, cents…"
All of the children before them sang the song, boys included, but boys never participated in the hand games when she was young. Rodney and John confirmed her conclusion.
"Not in a million years."
"Why would I give anyone else a reason to beat the snot out of me?"
It was an elaborate dream complete with that falling off a cliff feeling that startles you awake except she could not. John and Rodney really wanted to wake-up and to be home and not to be vulnerable on an alien world…At least she probably had Carson watching over her.
"To watch the elephants, elephants, elephants jump the fence, fence, fence!"
What had happened that they were linked across such a great distance? How was this possible?
"I'm working on that. Let me just kind of assimilate the weirdness and sense of déjà vu first".
Something foreboding lurked in this panorama as well. Maybe it was not in the games before her but in the presence next to her. Then a lean young woman walked across the back of the playground. Her face was obscured by her long blond hair. Maybe she was supposed to be a teacher but not one of Elizabeth's. However, she felt a sense of withdrawal and confirmation that that might be a hallucination by one of her neighbors.
John knew the person or thought he did. He just could not place her. Rodney also watched her carefully, but it was not Lia.
"They jumped so high, high, high…"
The scene felt so innocent and at the same time, danger lurked like the woman. The tempo picked up in the chant as the entire playground joined in the song.
"That they never came back, back, back, until the Fourth of July-ly-ly--ly-ly-ly!"
With the chant over, all motioned on the playground ceased. Swings stopped in midair, the merry-go-round froze in mid-rotation and children dangled with one arm in flight on the monkey bars, except for one little boy. With the children frozen in place along with the young woman, the one little boy made them retreat back into their theater boxes. He beamed a toothy crooked grin at them as he approached. His short brown hair and brown eyes never left them even as he split into three, one for each of them.
"What is your favorite thing in the whole wide world?" He asked sweetly.
She felt Rodney's panic and John's anger and her own flood of confusion. Then before an answer could be given, John and Rodney were gone leaving her and the child to face each other alone. He held out his hand and if possible smiled even sweeter.
"I want to play," he beckoned to her before he froze and the playground swirled into a cloud once again.
She was alone, confused and angry. The falling off a cliff feeling intensified with a vengeance and she clamored to wake up from this nightmare. She was more certain than ever the Wraith were behind this somehow and she would be damned if she was going to "play".
Now, if she could only remember any part of this experience when she woke up.
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A/N: It's funny when you look at a chapter for weeks and only discover a big plot hole only a couple of days from when you're going to post it. What's worse is when it's in the first line of the chapter. Let's just say that entire sections were rewritten and dialogue was affected in future chapters. Sorry for the inconvenience, but thank the bunnies for their obsessive ways and I caught it!