Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and its characters belong to their respective owners, not to me.
John sat beside Rodney on the long bench in the back of the jumper. He hated this. He hated sitting back here. Lieutenant Dawson and Doctor Reiger were across from them, trying without much success to pretend that they weren't listening to John and Rodney's spurts of conversation.
"How many v-villagers are we transporting again?" John asked Rodney, more to prevent himself from striding to the cockpit and shoving Lorne from the pilot's seat than from any genuine interest in the actual numbers.
"All of sixteen," Rodney snorted. "Let's just hope that I can put on as impressive a demonstration for the villagers as the last time and convince a few more of them to hop on the bandwagon. Of course, the big challenge is to keep the other villagers from going completely ballistic when the Daedalus beams the group up. I can just picture that Silas idiot now: 'Augh! They've been vaporized! Ha! I told you! I told you not to listen to them!'" Rodney mimed in a surprisingly good imitation of Silas's belligerent manner and grating voice that John, unfortunately, remembered all too clearly.
"Well, w-we can always lock Silas in a closet for a while and… and let the villagers talk to their people on the ship by radio," John shrugged. "That should help set their minds at ease a little?"
Rodney shot John his annoying oh, please look. "Yeah, right. Some of them will just think that we trapped them in these things," Rodney said while tapping his own radio.
"McKay, they're primitive, b-but they're not stupid."
"Compared to me they are," Rodney said, "but then again, so is everyone."
John was about to smack Rodney upside the head for that and then he noticed that his friend was barely suppressing a grin. "Very funny," John said, shooting Rodney a mock scathing look. He knew what Rodney was trying to do, though – keep him as distracted as possible, and John found himself surprisingly grateful for that.
When the jumper rocked and shuddered through the shield enveloping the planet, John winced and had to force himself not to push Lorne away from the helm, after all. John knew that he would have been able to take her through in a smooth arc, with hardly a jolt. It was just like riding out a thunderstorm. You couldn't fight it – you just went with it.
"You all right?" Rodney asked, leaning forward to peer at him.
"Yeah, fine," John answered through gritted teeth. "Why?"
"Well, you're grinding your teeth and sitting on your hands," Rodney pointed out. "A little tense, perhaps?"
"I am not," John said, then looked down at his legs. Sure enough, he had tucked his hands under his thighs, trapping them. He realized that his jaw ached. He pulled his hands free and rubbed them on the tops of his legs to renew the circulation in his fingers. "Doc should'a l-let me fly."
"I think we covered this already, didn't we?" Rodney gave John a long-suffering look.
John had to put his hands down on the seat to steady himself against another rough jolt. "Even drunk I can f-fly better th-than that," he muttered and scowled.
"Oh, stop whining and pouting already," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "It's hardly endearing and we're almost there."
John sat up straighter at that and indignantly folded his arms over his chest. "I do not whine."
"Oh, really?" Rodney said. "What do you think that just was?"
John blinked at Rodney, then realized that maybe he had been bitching a little, but still... He winced at another jolt and without thinking, tucked his hands under his legs again and started reciting football stats in his head.
"And here we are," Lorne called from the front, and John let out a sigh of relief when he felt the jumper touch ground a moment later. The team gathered their gear and John hung back a little, feeling suddenly, inexplicably nervous. Rodney seemed to sense John's unease and took his time pulling on his pack, then his gloves, woolen hat and adjusting his coat. He waited until John took the first step toward the hatch then followed close behind him.
They'd landed just outside the ruins; the ship uncloaked now that the people were becoming used to them. A group of children ran up to the ship, greeting Lorne, his team and Rodney as though they were old friends. As the team made its way into the village itself, some of the people came out of their homes, crowding around them. John thought he recognized a few of the faces. The villagers stared openly at him, with undisguised wariness. John was tempted to break into an impromptu tap-dance just to see how they'd react. Instead, he ambled beside Rodney, offering the villagers a faint smile and a casual tip of his head. Looking around, he wondered if Silas and his merry men were around, but they were nowhere to be seen. That was probably a good thing.
"Okay, all right!" Rodney called out suddenly and none too gently shoving his way through the crowd. "Got things to do, other people to see. Move along now," he said loudly, waving his hand in a shooing gesture.
John followed the path that Rodney cleared for them, finding their sudden role reversal odd and more than a little disconcerting. At the same time, he was grateful for Rodney's familiarity with the place. To John, everything seemed familiar and not familiar. Like some place he'd only seen in a half-remembered dream. The small huts, the deep snow, the stretch of cliffs in the distance, the faces of the villagers that would not stop staring at him. Despite his uncharacteristic self-consciousness, John met their gazes full-on and kept walking behind Rodney, tracing the other man's footsteps in the deep snow.
"Marcy Larson!" Rodney suddenly blurted and stopped so abruptly that John plowed into his back, his hat falling off and landing on the soft snow.
"What?" John shook his head in utter confusion and stooped to retrieve his hat.
"The ex-girlfriend from Drumheller," Rodney said, as though that explained everything.
John blinked at him. "And I th-thought I was the one who w-was nuts." He shook the snow from the hat and put it back on before his ears froze off. Rodney hadn't been kidding when he'd said it was too damned cold here.
Rodney stared at him, then shook his head. "No, no... I dated this girl from Drumheller and this place just reminds me of it, and I couldn't remember her name and it was bugging the crap out of me—"
"You actually dated someone n-named Marcy?" John said, scrunching his face, tugging his hat lower on his forehead.
Rodney looked at him. "Yeah. So? I mean..." He looked at John suspiciously. "What's wrong with Marcy?"
John shrugged. "Just… never m-met anybody named Marcy before. Wasn't there a-a Marcy in those Snoopy comics?"
"You read Peanuts comics?"
"Sure," John shrugged again. "Wh-when I… was a kid. Didn't you?"
"Oh, yes, right alongside finishing my first thesis."
John shot him a look. "Which is why y-you got beat up every day."
"No, I only got beat up every other day," Rodney corrected, raising a gloved finger, his breath misting in a cloud around him. "And I can just image where those Neanderthals are now," he said as he continued walking, "probably pumping gas, or calling a cardboard box home."
They headed for a small hut set a little apart from the others. It was tiny but well tended, with a long, rough-hewn fence leading to a small barn. John recognized this place – it had been home to him for close to a month. Tosia's place. He paused to stand back and look at it. He didn't remember it being this small.
The front door opened, and a young man, who made Ronon seem small-built, burst outside with a huge grin. "You're back early, Rodney!" the man exclaimed happily, then his gaze fell on John. His smile faltered a moment with surprise then widened again.
"Hey, Antal," John said, unable to help a grin of his own, recognizing him almost instantly.
"John!" Antal shouted with glee then rushed at him. John instinctively took a few steps back, worried he'd get bowled over but Antal quickly caught him in an embrace strong enough to steal the breath from John's lungs and lift him off his feet. Antal set him back down again so abruptly that John nearly lost his footing and his hat fell off again. Antal grabbed him by the shoulders, inadvertently steadying him and grinning hugely. "You came back!"
"Yeah," John gasped and held a hand to his ribs, but couldn't keep the matching grin from his face. "Kinda wanted to s-see you… guys again."
Antal stared at him. "You sound different, John."
"That's b-because I'm better now," John told him. "Thanks to you and your family."
Antal gave him a skeptical look. "We didn't do anything to make you better like that."
"Yes, you did," John corrected. "You, Lasca and Tosia… h-helped me a lot. I owe you all one."
"One what?" Antal said, frowning.
"A favor," John explained. "Sort of… a-a way of saying thank you."
"Oh, all right," Antal said, nodding in understanding, then tilted his head. "You don't have to, but the other Atlanteans gave us presents and things like that."
John laughed at that. "I think I can take care of that in a minute." He stooped to retrieve his hat again then tried to see inside the open doorway of the hut, but it was too dark. He could hear the voices of those inside though – quite a few of them, in fact. "Are Tosia and Lasca inside?" he asked Antal.
Antal nodded. "Wanna see them?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed John's arm, just above the elbow, and began half-leading, half-dragging him to the door in a motion that felt strangely familiar.
Rodney smirked at him and followed a moment later, wanting to give John a moment alone with his surrogate family of sorts.
Stepping over the threshold of the hut, it took a moment for John's eyes to adjust from the bright white of outside to the dim grays and browns of the interior. Four people that John didn't recognize – two middle-aged women, a young girl and a man in his early twenties – were sitting at the small table in front of the crackling, warm hearth. They turned to stare at him, but John didn't pay them any mind. Instead, his gaze fell on a woman in her mid-forties with long, wildly curly grayish-brown hair. She turned from the chopping block where she was cutting up some sort of squash-like vegetable and her eyes widened at the sight of him. Lasca, John realized and offered her a shy smile.
"John!" she gasped, unwittingly echoing her son. The remainder of the vegetable dropped from her fingers and onto the floor.
"Hi," John said, unsure how she'd react to him. "I... uh... hope you don't mind—"
Lasca stared at him then her face broke out into a smile, transforming her plain features into radiance. "Mind? How could I..." She stepped close to him and pulled him into a welcoming hug. He returned her embrace a little tentatively and found it both strange and wonderful how these people had come to care so much about him, even when he'd been so far beyond himself. So lost and so helpless. She pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "You... I can't believe all this. You seem so..." she shook her head, at a loss for words.
"Normal?" John offered, tilting his head.
"Well, yes..." she said with a laugh, "but I meant to say that you look well. Very well."
"Yeah, I'm okay n-now," John agreed. "Thank you."
"No, we should be thanking you," she corrected. "Your people have done so much for us already."
"John brought us presents, too," Antal piped up.
Lasca turned to her son. "Antal, hush," she reprimanded.
"No, it's okay," John quickly said when Antal blushed and looked down at his boots. John set his pack on the floor, unzipped it and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He handed Antal a package wrapped in old newspaper – the closest thing he could find to wrapping paper and clumsily tied with a big foil ribbon left over from Christmas.
Antal stared at it mesmerized. "Thank you," he whispered.
John watched him expectantly, but Antal just cradled the gift carefully in his hands, as though it were made from spun glass. "Open it," John urged, waving his hand.
Antal blinked at him. "Oh..." He very carefully untied the ribbon, folded back the newspaper, pausing to marvel over the car and house photos printed on it. He finally pulled all the paper to free to reveal an egg-sized amethyst geode. It was just an abandoned paperweight that John had found in one of scientist's offices in the city, but he remembered Antal's treasures from the ruins and thought that the young man might like to have it. John's guess was proven correct when Antal gasped at the sight of it, his eyes shining.
"Where did you find this?" he nearly whispered.
"Well, b-back on my home world… there's l-lots of rocks like that," John explained. "There's lots of th-them on the mainland, too. When you go there, m…maybe I can show you some."
Antal nodded, beaming at him.
"John..." Lasca said, then shook her head.
John turned to look at her questioningly.
"Antal and I are not going to the mainland," she said.
John then remembered that Lasca had refused to even consider the idea of relocating. He was about to apologize for mentioning it, but then Rodney broke in, surprising him. He'd almost forgotten about him.
"So, Lasca," Rodney said as he ruffled his matted-down hair, unzipped his jacket and took it off. "Having a little party?" In a none too subtle change of subject, he gestured to the people at the table and the two figures he could make out through the open door to Tosia's bedroom.
"These are some of the people going to the mainland," Lasca explained. "This is Daria and her husband, Josef." She then introduced the two women – one the girl's mother and the other, the young man's aunt and Urvan's wife. "Kornel and Urvan are discussing a few things with Tosia." Lasca turned to look at John and speaking in a low voice, she said, "Why don't you and Rodney go in and say hello to her? I am sure she is growing weary of their conversation. They have been in there for almost an hour."
Rodney shook his head and waved his hand in John's direction. "Why don't you go say hi to her first? I know she's pretty sick of me, too." He stepped up to the roaring hearth and held his hands out, warming them. Antal followed him, proudly show Rodney his gift.
John watched them a moment then took off his own jacket and hung it on the hook beside the row of cloaks. Turning back to the open bedroom door, he found that he had to work himself up to stepping into that room, feeling inexplicably self-conscious again.
Lasca noticed his unease and gently took his arm. "Come, John..." she said. "I know that she will be so very happy to see you. I do not think she expected to see you again."
Lasca led him inside the tiny bedroom, and John paused just inside the doorway. Unnoticed by the occupants in the room, he glanced over the two men sitting beside a narrow bed piled with so many blankets that it took a moment until John saw her. The long, thick, silver hair that he remembered so clearly. He didn't remember her being so tiny, though. She'd always seemed stronger, imposing, almost. Her eyes were so sunken that from a distance, they were only deep shadows in her face. John just stood there in the doorway, unable to move closer.
Then Tosia's gaze fell on him. She slid up in the bed. Lasca immediately went to her mother's side and helped prop her further up with the pillows.
"Look, mother," Lasca said, smiling and gently smoothing Tosia's hair back. "Look who came to see you."
Tosia blinked and frowned at John then looked back to Lasca for confirmation. John pinched his lips and took a few hesitant steps closer. "Hi, Tosia," he said quietly.
"John?" Tosia said in a soft, disbelieving whisper.
"Yeah," he said. Her face broke out into a joyous smile and the two men, Kornel and Urvan, stared at him in equal amazement.
"John." Tosia said this again as affirmation, then held her hands out to him. "Come closer. I know I look terrible, but I promise that I am harmless."
John returned her smile then stepped to the far side of the bed, opposite the two men and took her hands carefully in his own. She squeezed his fingers, her hands trembling. Looking to Kornel and Urvan, she waved her hand toward the door in a dismissive gesture oddly reminiscent of Rodney.
"Leave us now," she said to them. "John and I have much to catch up on. Alone." With that, she turned back to John as the men stood to leave and began to shuffle from the room.
After Kornel stepped outside, Urvan paused, waiting until John looked at him. "I am very glad that you are all right," Urvan said, his face flushing red with either shame or bashfulness, John wasn't certain which. John frowned, then nodded in acknowledgement, and Urvan seemed relieved by that. He ducked his head and left the room. Lasca followed him a moment later, pulling the door almost shut behind her.
John stood hesitant beside the bed, at a complete loss for words. Tosia looked up at him, her eyes bright with joyful tears. She released one of his hands and patted the narrow space beside her. "Come, sit down, John."
He obeyed, perching beside her. She took hold of his hands again, studying them. All the bandages were gone now, revealing the long, ugly scar on his right hand. Tosia traced the line with her fingertip.
"I had heard from the other Atlanteans that you were better, but this... it is wonderful to see you again," she said quietly, looking into his eyes.
"You, too." John looked down and smiled shyly. "I... I w-wanted to come see you… b-because... there was so much that I wanted to say to you, and now... now I don't know what to say." Still unable to look at her, he laughed a little then shrugged. "Guess you're… kinda used t-to that from me, though."
Tosia chuckled and squeezed his hands tighter. "You don't have to say anything, John," she reassured him, still smiling. "Thank you for coming to see me," she said after a moment. "I could not ask for a better gift."
John met her gaze at that. "Oh... wait... now that's w-what I wanted to say." He slapped himself lightly on the forehead. "I wanted to thank you. For t-taking care of me. For saving my life. For... for everything." He looked down when he felt a shameful prickling behind his eyes and his throat tightened.
"John," Tosia said softly but firmly. "Look at me."
He remembered that, too. Those very same words, reaching out to him when he'd been so afraid and so terribly lost. She'd always been able to reach him no matter how far away he was, no matter how deeply the Ancients' pulled him under. How did you thank someone for that, he wondered. How was it even possible to express proper gratitude for something like that? It took a moment, but he raised his eyes to hers, and he found that he didn't care if she saw any signs of threatening tears.
"You have nothing to thank me for," Tosia said, reaching up to pat his cheek. "There are no debts between friends, so let us not speak of that anymore. Let us enjoy this time we have together and get to know one another properly," she told him. Then tilting her head speculatively, she looked him up and down in mock appraisal. "I had often wondered what sort of man you had been... before I found you here."
"Uh-oh," John said and winced. "Probably a little disappointed, huh?"
Tosia shook her head. "You are exactly as I imagined you," she said with a satisfied smile.
"And that's... good?" John said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, that's very good."
"Whew," John said, swiping his hand over his brow, making her chuckle.
"Hey, hate to break up the party," Rodney said from behind the door then pushed it open. "But I'm... breaking up the party."
"Rodney," Tosia said, offering him another happy smile. "I was hoping you had come along, as well."
Rodney shrugged. "Yeah, well. Someone's gotta watch out for Ancient-boy here."
John narrowed his eyes at Rodney in his most dangerous expression. "Don't call me that. Ever."
The look was completely lost on Rodney, who had never been scared of John in the slightest, anyway. "So, Tosia," Rodney said, purposefully ignoring John and stepping close beside Tosia's bed. "How are you feeling?" He said this with such gentle concern that John looked at his friend in surprise.
"I am much better now that you both are here," Tosia said.
"Yeah, well, I have that sort of effect on people," Rodney smirked as he slouched down in one of the chairs beside the bed. "So… looks like everyone's all set to go, and the Daedalus…" he stole a quick glance at his watch, "…should be here in oh... about an hour. It's almost time to round everyone up. You explained to Kornel what will happen when the group gets beamed aboard, right?"
Tosia nodded. "I have not witnessed this Asgard technology in a long time, but I assured all of my people that there is nothing to fear. Kornel will assure them once more before it is time."
"So... all this work, and only sixteen have come around," Rodney said, sighing in frustration and rubbing a hand through his hair.
"And sixteen people will have better lives because of this," Tosia said. "And that is something."
"Yes, it is," John agreed. "S-some of them may even change their minds later. It's not like we're that far away if they do."
Rodney nodded. "I talked to Kornel outside again, and he'll be quite the cheering squad. He's absolutely raving about the mainland. I think he even wants to take up surfing."
Tosia smiled tiredly at both of them. After a moment, she looked to Rodney. "Do you remember what I asked you... about Lasca and Antal?"
Rodney nodded and held up a hand in a scout's honor gesture. "Consider it taken care of."
"We'll take good care of them, Tosia," John added quietly. Rodney had told him of the promise he'd made, and John was determined to help carry it through.
Tosia squeezed John's hand again and kept hold of it in a trembling, but firm grip. "I know you will." Her eyelids were heavy, her voice fragile and weak, but she had a quiet serenity about her. The kind of calm acceptance that John recognized from watching far too many people he cared about die.
"Well," Rodney said, moving to stand up. "No rest for the wicked and all that. The Beam Me up Scotty Show will be starting all too soon. Antal said that a lot of people are already waiting in the village square." He looked at John. "We should probably head over there soon, too."
John noticed the look of disappointment that fell on Tosia's face. "I'll stay here if you guys want to go ahead," he told his friend, looking back to the old woman. "Tosia and I have a lot to catch up on."
Rodney looked at Tosia and at the tight grip she kept on John's hand, then nodded. She reached for Rodney with her free hand.
"Thank you again, Rodney," she said, smiling at him, grasping his fingers. "It has been wonderful to see you, as well. I have missed our conversations."
"Yeah, me, too," Rodney said in a soft voice, giving her a crooked smile of his own. "It's too bad you can't come see this, but I'll tell you all about it later. I also have a question about a certain theory of yours that I found in your database yesterday."
Tosia nodded. "I look forward to that."
Patting her hand awkwardly, Rodney set it back down on the bed with careful precision, as though afraid she'd break. He looked up at both of them, then pointed at John. "Right, and you two behave yourselves now. I should actually warn you, Tosia, Sheppard has a huge thing for Ascended women. It's a little… disturbing, actually."
Tosia cackled and shot John a far from innocent look. "I assure you, Rodney, I can take care of myself around such handsome men as yourselves."
"Yeah, you sure can," Rodney agreed with a grin. "Bye, Tosia," he said, his expression becoming both somber and full affection.
"Goodbye, Rodney," Tosia said, and with that he stepped from the room. Through the open door, Tosia watched Rodney with equal tenderness as he put on his coat and winter gear.
"You know… he's not u-usually like that," John said.
"Like what?" Tosia asked, looking back at him.
"Nice," John said. "You s-seem to h-have made quite the impression on him."
Tosia smirked at that. "I have become quite fond of him myself. Rodney has a kind heart and gentle spirit, though he tries very hard to hide the fact."
Lasca came in then and placed a fresh jug of water on the small table by the bed. She fussed over Tosia, rearranging her blankets and pillows. Tosia tolerated it for a moment then all but ordered Lasca and Antal to go along with Rodney and give her a moment's peace. Lasca looked a little hurt, but nodded and finally left them alone.
When they heard the thud of the front door shutting and Antal's excited voice echoing outside, Tosia leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes for a moment. The small hut filled with silence.
John looked around the tiny room, and noticed the rumpled National Geographic magazine on the table. "Hey, I didn't know they delivered this far," he said, picking it up.
"I confess that I found it too intriguing to resist," Tosia said, smiling almost sheepishly and sitting up straighter in her bed. "Will you tell me about some of these places?"
"Sure," John said, flipping through the magazine, looking for landmarks of interest. He leaned closer so that she could look over his shoulder. He paused at a night shot of the Eiffel Tower, describing its history. He told her about his stop-over in Paris and how he and his buddies had gotten drunk on far too much red wine and at nearly midnight, decided to run all the way up the stairs to the top level of the tower. Mitch and Dex had promptly mooned the few tourists on the platform. John had instead grabbed the nearest pretty girl who had been looking at the view with a shorter, not so pretty friend, dipped and dramatically planted a kiss on her, like in the old movies. They were lucky they hadn't been arrested because they had to ship out to the gulf in two days.
John turned the page and then another and stopped when he found a photo spread of the California coast and the Pacific Ocean. He tilted the magazine so that Tosia could better see it. Tapping his finger on the glossy page, he told her that the absolute best surfing he'd ever experienced was on the stretch of coast between Santa Barbara and San Diego. When Tosia looked confused at the term, John got up to demonstrate how exactly one surfed. While miming the motions, and lost in memory, he regaled her all about this one glorious day, nearly ten years ago now. The sun had been baking down on him, and the water was sparking like diamonds and so incredibly blue. It was so spectacular, and the waves had been so perfect that he'd stayed out there all day. He'd only stopped when his legs began shaking with exhaustion, and he could barely stand up anymore. It had been one of the best days in his life, and the fact that he could so effortlessly recall it now, was even better.
Tosia watched and listened with rapt attention, although John wasn't entirely certain she understood half of what he'd told her with all its modern-day Earthly references. He sat back down on the bed beside her, and Tosia leaned tiredly against his arm. He looked at her, worried.
"Tosia? You want me to… to let you rest for a while?"
She shook her head emphatically. "No, John," she said, smiling tiredly. "I am fine. It is just… it is so good to hear the sound of your voice. You are so much like Gaereth... Even more than I imagined," she said, her voice trailing off with a note of wonder and longing.
"I... uh, I wanted you to know..." John said, then stopped, uncertain if he should tell her.
"What is it?"
He shrugged. "Nah... it's okay."
Tosia scowled at him. "John, have we not been through far too much together to be afraid to speak our minds?" she said, her soft voice belying her strong words. "It is all right. Tell me what you began to say."
John nodded, picked up the magazine again and absently flipped through it. "D-do you remember that night… after I messed up my hands?" he said after glancing at a few pages without really seeing their contents.
"Yes, of course, I do."
"I remember that I c-couldn't sleep because my hands were hurting so bad," John paused and looked down at them, at the numerous, crisscrossing scars. "Stupid thing to do..." he added, "but I… I remember that you c-came and… and checked on me. And then you sat beside me and told me about your life. I... I remember what you told me. About being Ascended, b-being sent here as punishment and about Gaereth. It... it probably wasn't easy to talk about all that, but I... appreciate that you did. That you trusted me enough to tell me."
She nodded and an oddly relieved expression came over her tired, battered features. "I knew that you were listening to me. That you could hear me," she whispered, but it seemed as though she were speaking more to herself.
"You must have loved him very much," John said.
"Yes, I did." She nodded again then looked at him intently. "I would like to be laid to rest next to him. Next to Gaereth, by the ruins. I suspect it will be too much for Antal and Lasca, and I know it is much to ask of you, but will... will you see to that for me, John?"
John looked at her surprised. He wanted to protest that she shouldn't be talking like that, that they still had plenty of time to talk about such difficult things, but he could all too clearly see the deep weariness in her eyes. He could see how thin and wasted her already small frame was. Finally, he held her intense gaze and had to clear his throat before he could speak. "I will. I… I promise."
Tosia nodded, satisfied. "It is strange that I hated this place of my exile so much and now... it is where I belong."
"Do... do you think that..." John shook his head, frustrated and tried to get his brain and mouth in synch. "I sometimes wonder if... maybe I was sent through that portal... a-as punishment, too."
Tosia sat up straighter. "Why would you think such a thing?" she questioned. "What could you possibly have done to deserve that?"
John shrugged and smirked. "Want a list?"
"No, I do not," Tosia said, shaking her head and suddenly taking hold of his arm in a fierce grip. "You are a good man, John. Do not ever think anything less of yourself, do you understand?" she said firmly, leaving no room for argument. She glared at him until he reluctantly nodded. "You were not sent here as punishment, you were sent here to help my people. That is the only reason. I am very sorry that you had to go through what you did," she said squeezing his arm before releasing him, "but I am not sorry to have met you."
"I'm not sorry, either," he said softly and truthfully.
Tosia shifted against the pillows, her face creasing with pain.
John hesitantly touched her shoulder. "Tosia?"
Tosia waved off his concern then reached for a bottle of pills on the table. John poured some water from the jug into a wooden cup and handed it to her. She nodded in thanks, sat up and swung her legs over the edge, wobbling alarmingly. When John gave her another worried look, she shook her head. "Do not fuss. I have had enough of it from Lasca and Antal."
"Sorry," he said, wincing and understanding all too well. "I hate being fussed over, too. You should see Carson and Rodney a-around me. I'm g-getting ready to shoot both of them."
Tosia cackled and took another sip from the cup before setting it back down. "I had never expected this whole business of dying to be so infernally tiresome," she said, scowling with pain and irritation.
John gave her a sympathetic look. "Well... I'm planning on going down with m-my boots on. Preferably crashing and burning in s-some awesome, alien fighter jet."
"Do not talk like that, John," Tosia reprimanded. "Life is short enough for you as it is."
" I'm talking w-when I'm ninety, or something," he amended. "Crashing and…and burning when trying to fly at that age is p-pretty much inevitable." Tosia laughed again at that. "B-but rest assured, I can fly anything," he added, flashing her a cocky grin, "one of the best pilots a-around, in fact. It's the only… reason I d-didn't get booted from the military a long t-time ago."
"I envy you that freedom," Tosia said, smiling wistfully. "To be able to just fly when you wish to and see the ground rushing below you. So wonderfully free... I would have liked to have seen you behind the helm of a gateship."
John saw the longing in her eyes, the same longing he had now, that he'd had for his entire life, really. To just fly and nothing else mattered but controls in your hands and the open sky surrounding you. He looked at Tosia and waited until she met his gaze.
"You want to go for a ride?" he said, casting her a mischievous, hopeful glance.
Tosia looked back at him and chuckled a little. Then she saw something in his expression, something that made her pause and her eyes widened. "You are serious?"
John raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Absolutely."
Tosia seemed to think it over a moment, then clapped her hands together like a young girl. "Yes!" she said, matching his smile with a startlingly radiant one of her own. "Yes, I would like that very much."
John sprang to his feet. He unclipped his radio from his ear and tossed it onto the table. "Okay – be right back," he said over his shoulder as he darted from the room. He rushed to the front door, opened it and ducked his head outside. There was no one in sight. Everyone was probably and hopefully in the village center.
Grabbing Tosia's cloak, John rushed back to the bedroom while pulling on his own jacket. Tosia was standing, leaning shakily up against the bed and looking around for her clothes. John instead helped her put on the cloak over her nightshirt. He gathered up the blankets and wrapped them snugly around her. Then he carefully lifted her, cradling her in his arms, astonished by how light she was. Tosia clung to his neck, her eyes bright with excitement.
Carrying his fragile burden, John carefully stepped outside into the icy air. I'm never gonna hear the end of this, he thought, but at the same time, he didn't care. After all, he'd never been one to worry about the consequences and he wasn't about to start now. Tosia huddled deeper in the warm blankets, resting her head against his shoulder, relaxed and completely trusting.
"I'm not really s-supposed to be doing this, you know..." John said. "So if we see anyone..."
Tosia laughed. "Then it will be our secret, yes?"
"Exactly," John said. "We'll t-tell them you wanted a last chance to… to kick Silas's ass, and I was gonna help you do it."
Tosia chuckled at that, and they made the rest of their way to the jumper in silence. John couldn't help praying that no one would be hovering around it. But they were in luck again – the area was completely deserted. He hoped to hell that Rodney and the Daedalus crew were putting on a show entertaining enough to keep the villagers occupied for a good while longer.
When John approached the jumper, the back hatch opened even as he thought of it, and they stepped inside. The door closed and he immediately cloaked the ship. Very carefully, he set Tosia down in the co-pilot seat. She was trembling a little, and crouching down beside her, John looked into her eyes.
"Tosia? Are you okay?" he asked. "We don't have to do this—"
Tosia narrowed her eyes at him. Freeing her hands from the thick blankets, she slapped his arm. "If you back out of this now, John, I shall never forgive you." With a barely suppressed wince, she sat up straighter, pulling the blankets snug around her. "You promised me a ride in this jumper and that is exactly what I expect."
John grinned and sprang to his feet. "All right!" He rubbed his hands together as though in gleeful anticipation. "Now, you h-haven't ridden in a jumper until you've r-ridden with me in the pilot's seat."
Tosia raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Well, stop your boasting and start flying."
"Yes, ma'am," John said, hopping into the pilot's chair. "N-never keep a lady waiting."
Like revisiting an old friend, John passed his hands over the familiar controls, and the ship obediently and fluidly rose into the air. It tilted gently to one side and he angled the craft to head towards the snow-covered cliffs that sparked even in the tepid sunlight. The ground passed beneath them in varying shades of whites and grays.
"Go... faster, John," Tosia said, breathless, wheezing slightly. He looked at her alarmed but she waved it off. "Come now. Show me some of this impressive skill of yours."
"Okay," he said, and with the merest thought, the ship began to pick up speed, the blanket of snow beneath them becoming a rushing blur. He let the jumper coast and the white ground and the cloudless sky blended seamlessly into one another.
"Oh... now this is wonderful," Tosia breathed out, laughing again, weakly, but joyfully, her eyes fixed on the pale horizon. "Go higher... keep flying, John... just for a while longer," she said, looking to him, her eyes bright with happiness and gratitude.
"We'll g-go for as long as you want," he assured her. He took the jumper higher and higher, bringing it into a very gentle loop and then again, the inertial dampeners and John's near symbiosis with the craft keeping their ride smooth as silk. They could no longer see the ground from this high. Everything was cast in shades of delicate yellows and the palest pinks, the winter sun a low, gleaming ball of white.
"It is so beautiful, Gaereth," Tosia whispered, her gaze fixed on the vast, open sky, at the expanse of freedom before her.
John kept flying, slowly decreasing altitude until they could clearly see the cliffs again. It was probably time to head back, he thought, even as reluctant as he was to do so. He knew that Rodney was absolutely going to freak on them and could just imagine the impending tirade.
John glanced over at Tosia. Her eyes were half-closed and for a moment, he thought she had fallen asleep. Then he realized that the sounds of her labored breathing had stopped. She was still, so unnaturally still. John's heart pounded with sudden fear, with terrible understanding. He quickly set the jumper to auto-pilot mode and darted from his chair to crouch in front of her. Tosia's chest was still, her head tilted slightly to one side, hands slack in her lap. She was gone.
"Oh no... Tosia..." John breathed out. "Dammit..." He sat there a moment, stunned, and then he noticed the faint, but distinct smile on her face. Her expression was calm and so serene and that offered him a small measure of consolation. He blinked back tears that suddenly sprang to his eyes. He hoped that she was at peace that she was somehow with Gaereth again. He took hold of her frail, still warm hands. He held them a moment in his, then very carefully tucked them under the blanket. He brushed a few stray strands of long hair from her face and gently pressed his hand over her eyelids, closing them.
Whispering a soft prayer under his breath, John watched her still face for a long moment. He thought of the thousands and thousands of years of experience, knowledge and wisdom that she had possessed, and save what may remain in the portal, were now forever gone. Even more so, he had lost yet another friend he had come to love and that was the hardest part to face. But he had some of those memories of hers, for he knew in his heart that the ones of a vibrant and long-ago Atlantis were all Tosia's. And maybe, in a way it was good that he could still see them. Maybe a part of her would live on through him that way.
Taking a few deep, shuddery breaths, he stood and went back to the pilot's seat. With trembling hands, he took control of the jumper again and let her loose. High over the village, the frozen-over lake and the cliffs that kept blurring into a watery haze no matter how many times he swiped his hand over his eyes. He went faster and faster until the ground was nothing but an endless white sheet beneath him. He allowed his mind to tune out, and he just flew, that perfect freedom washing over him.
He hoped that Tosia was free now, too. To go wherever she wanted to. She deserved that, he thought as he passed the ship over the cliffs for one more time, for just a little longer.
---tbc---
Only an epilogue to go after this, so please do stayed tuned...