Dark Element
Death Trapped

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

The dark was stayed only by the soft glow coming from Ronon's flashlight. He was leaning casually against the wall. One knee was bent so that his arm could rest on it as they sat there in the prison bunker resting from a night of wearily trying to break through the door. They could only assume the worst after McKay's frantic warnings over the radio. It had been hours since then, with no word on whether or not he could get them out.

Ronon's flashlight was pointed up, illuminating his shoulders and face as he glared across the room at nothing. Teyla was reminded of something similar that Colonel Sheppard had done one night when he was telling her a ghost story from Earth. Her lips tilted at the memory.

It was raining again. She could hear the thunder distantly as it echoed through the now open emergency ventilation shaft that McKay had found from his end. It was a start, at least. She could tell the difference between now and thirty minutes ago when their air had been running out. The atmosphere was fresh now, and the room was cold.

"You awake?"

Ronon's voice startled her. When she had awakened Teyla had decided not to rouse her companion straight away. He needed rest and as long as he thought she still slept he might just take it, so she remained on her side watching him, watching the shadows.

"I am awake," she confirmed, knowing it was time to start working towards escape again. No matter how futile both would keep trying until they just couldn't anymore. Somewhere out there their friends could be in very serious trouble, and they couldn't even radio to find out how bad for fear of increasing their danger.

She sat up slowly and stretched her sore muscles. Ronon was fishing through his jacket. "Are you hungry?" he asked, pulling out a power bar. He held it out to her.

"I have one left," she replied, reaching into her pocket. The truth was she was famished, but the possibility of being down here a long time was very real. They were going to have to ration. She opened the power bar and broke off a very small piece, noticing he didn't even do that much for himself. "You should eat."

He gave her a half-smile. "I will when I need to." Dusting off his hands on his pants, he got to his feet, and took the light towards the control panel. Before McKay had gone to try and find another control room, he had told them there could be an emergency release lever hidden somewhere so that prisoners couldn't find it, but the Ancients could use it if necessary. Ronon had torn apart half of one console looking for just such a thing, to no avail.

He crouched beside the console, ready to dig into the cables again. Teyla moved to join him, taking his flashlight to hold for him as he looked within the access point. "What do you think happened to them?" she asked for the sake of filling the oppressive quiet.

The warrior cleared a bundle of cable and took the light from her to peer into the darkness. "Didn't McKay say something about a robot?"

Teyla knit her brow in thought. "He said something about it being lost. A strange warning."

"Yeah, well, McKay's a strange kind of guy." He pushed his hair off his shoulder and started fishing through the other side. "Maybe it was a wild animal."

"They have guns," she reminded him with a smile.

"Maybe it was a big one." He shrugged. "Besides, you know him. It could have chased him up a tree and he would still be there waiting for it to get bored and run off." Quite suddenly he jerked his arm out with a hiss of breath.

Teyla turned the flashlight on the arm he was now cradling. "Are you all right?" A jagged cut marred the side of his hand.

His response was typical. "It's nothing." Ronon went back to work without complaint.

"You should let me wrap it," she countered, mindful of infection.

He shook his head and didn't reply otherwise. Teyla traced a line of blood he had left on the floor with her eyes. She wondered, not for the first time, what sort of things went on here. It was normal, of course, for any given place inhabited by the Ancients to have a brig. Yet there was something about this particular place that troubled her. It was as if the atmosphere was stifled somehow. She couldn't explain it, but the shadows left her unnerved.

"Does it bother you?" he asked. He had turned to look at her and caught her expression.

"What?"

"The dark."

Teyla shook her head softly. "The absence of light is a natural occurrence. It quiets the soul and gives the body a chance to rest. There is nothing to fear."

Ronon gave her a look. "Except what the darkness holds."

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

He thought a moment, then shrugged. "Dark is dark." After a moment's silence he paused in his work and turned toward her. "Do you hear that?"

Teyla eyed him suspiciously. "Are you trying to frighten me?"

He shook his head and pointed towards the shadows at their backs. Teyla followed the direction and listened to the silence. Only it wasn't. She hadn't realized it until now, but there was a soft sound keeping the two of them company.

Shining the light, Teyla took to her feet and walked slowly towards the opposite side of the room. It grew more distinct with each step she took. Ronon stopped her when they were near the wall. Taking her hand in his, he pointed the flashlight and she inhaled sharply. There was water on the wall. Nearly a yard wide, it drizzled down the gray surface like rivers of blood and collected on the floor. Teyla lifted her foot and little droplets showered off her boot.

He moved the light upwards, following the water's path to the ceiling where he saw an open grate. The water was leaking from it. "It's too high to reach, even if you stood on my shoulders," he observed, trying to see up the shaft. "Looks like we're still at square one."

"You do not think it could flood?" Teyla asked him warily as she watched the sprinkles drip. She ran her toe through the puddle on the floor.

Ronon shook his head. "It's only the rain."

Morning broke over the horizon and its shining was what brought Carson from his fitful rest. His waking was dull and hazy. He could recall only bits and pieces of the night before. One thing that remained crystal clear was the headache that had plagued him. It still lingered, though in a much more endurable form.

Beckett instinctively tried to reach up to smooth his hand across his tired eyes, but remembered as his wrist stalled at his hip. He could not move and because of that his muscles were stiff and pained. The metal bed he was on was cold, and a chill swept straight through his back to his bones. He had been left this way sometime in the night after a quiet encounter with their oh-so-gracious host.

He groaned and stared at the ceiling, trying to relax his tense form as much as he could. Aerien answered very few of his questions. He would not explain what he was doing beyond that he was looking for 'something'. Carson had asked him point blank if he were going to kill them, to which the Ancient had laughed. He had assured the doctor that no, they were not going to be killed if he could help it. Not exactly a promising response, but Beckett was thankful they weren't going to be murdered any time soon. It gave them time to work on escaping.

Then he remembered. McKay had come. He had tried to rescue him, but was interrupted. After that everything was a blur of agony. Recalling the terrible pain Aerien's touch had sent through him was almost as bad as the experience had been. Still, he relived it for the sake of searching his memory for any clues as to what had happened to Rodney. He could vaguely recall the man asking him something, but after that his memory was blank.

An hour of useless speculation and aggravated cursing passed. He wondered what had happened to Sheppard and McKay, whether or not Aerien knew about Ronon and Teyla. The sun swept into the window, illuminating the dim room like the calm before a storm. The door at the head of the room opened and the Ancient swept in, looking well rested and eager. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, his tone suggesting he really didn't care.

Carson shifted his weight uncomfortably, glaring at the man. "I don't suppose you're goin' ta let me down from this bed at all. I have ta go, ya know." He figured now was not the time for petty pride. Things were getting a bit serious in that particular arena.

Aerien paused a moment, then nodded slowly. "There's a place for that where your friends are, have no worries." He hovered above the doctor. Without warning he reached down, holding Carson by the face, forcing his eyelids open and peering into his irises. A bit panicked, the doctor tensed and made a noise he hadn't even been aware of making, trying desperately to blink as the air assailed his eyes.

The Ancient didn't say whether or not he found what he was looking for. He let go and Beckett closed his eyes while Aerien started unhooking the restraints around his legs. He was so tempted, in that moment, to kick the man in the face. Sorely tempted, but he knew if he did it would only make matters worse. As if guessing his thoughts, catching the doctor's gaze on him, Aerien gave him a sidelong glance and a smile.

Unhooking the wrist cuffs, he stood back, showed his energy weapon and ordered, "Get up."

Carson slowly complied, rubbing his wrists as he sat up. His arm smarted where the wood had cut him the previous day. He examined the tender cut, frowning at the large red and purple line running down his skin.

The Ancient had no patience for that. He grabbed for Beckett's coat and jerked him down with a show of surprising strength, then clamped a mobile set of cuffs on his wrists. Carson nearly tripped, but held his ground and shot the other man a dirty look. It didn't faze him. Aerien motioned to the lab door as if the doctor were an unruly child. He hated that about Ancients.

Holding his arm, he went into the lab and saw McKay glaring through one of the barred windows attached to the holding cells at the back of the room. "Carson, god, are you all right?" he asked, his ire melting. Sheppard came to stand beside him.

"I'm a'right, lads," he replied tiredly. He moved to approach the door that would lead him to them, cursing when Aerien shoved him towards the other one. The fact that he was being kept separate from his friends made him nervous, but he didn't let on. Aerien opened the cell door and motioned with his weapon for the doctor to get in.

Carson obeyed, doubting he had the energy to get into a major brawl at the moment. The door slammed shut at his back. He took a deep breath, looking around him. There was blood in the room, splashed on the walls and floors. He closed his eyes to hide the horrible sight for just one moment, then moved towards the door at the end of the room. As Aerien had said, there was a refresher here. A small one. He entered and looked at his reflection in a mirror that looked like it had suffered a punch. His eyes had dark circles under them.

He went wearily about his business and splashed water from the basin onto his face, reveling in the sweet, soft coolness of the liquid caressing his skin. Carson pulled tentatively at the bonds around his wrists, but couldn't find any weaknesses. Sighing, he left the refresher to return to the window and see what their host was up to.

Aerien had left the room, apparently. Carson turned towards a floor-to-ceiling window that joined his cell with that holding his friends. He peered inside and saw them sitting together on a bunk. Neither of them had cuffs on their hands. "Do either of you have any idea what he's plannin' on doin' ta us?"

It was Sheppard that responded, standing up to wander over. "No clue. We were hoping you would."

"Dunno, son." He glanced back out along the infirmary. Aerien kept the lights dim and there were no windows to allow the sun to brighten the laboratory. He sighed. "All he's done so far is give me a massive headache. Hasn't said a thing, though."

"Yeah," Sheppard replied dryly. "He seems to be a real bastard that way. I really hate when they do that. He gave me a nice headache too."

"Great," McKay hissed, flustered by this whole situation. Carson could sympathize. "So we're stuck with the universe's sickest Tylenol product tester. Well, I want my headache medicine, damn it."

Carson smiled wanly and lifted his chained hands to rub his cheek. The door at the head of the lab opened, breaking them out of their conversation. Carson walked back to the front of the cell to get a better look at what was going on. The Ancient had rejoined them, paying no mind to any of his prisoners. He held a book in his arms, a volume in which he started writing.

Something flew from the cell beside him and hit the Ancient's shoulder. Carson blinked, sure he had imagined it, until Aerien turned with a very serious glare. "I suppose a little breakfast is beyond your 'oh so evolved' needs," McKay said, drawing a groan from the Colonel. "Well, I happen to need food regularly, so if you wouldn't mind…?"

"McKay," Sheppard said in a low, warning tone. "Why don't you sit down for a while?"

McKay wasn't going to have it. The low blood sugar was already working on his emotions. "No, no. Mr. Holier-Than-Thou claims he wants to keep us alive. Well, to do that he's going to have to feed us."

Aerien took his book and left the room. Beckett heard what he presumed was Rodney flopping down on a bunk in the cell he shared with John. Knitting his brow, the doctor felt around his jacket, and finding his quarry, hunted through his pockets until he retrieved the power bar he had stored there. He stuck his arms through the bars between he and the other two men and called, "Colonel Sheppard?"

"Doc? Is that your last one?"

"Don't worry about it." He wiggled the power bar. "Rodney's the one who needs it."

John grunted, moving to take it, then cursed as Rodney pushed him aside to claim it for himself. Rodney snatched it hungrily. "Aw, gee, Carson," McKay said, with a grateful look as he unwrapped it. "Thanks."

"You didn't have to shove me," Sheppard growled.

"Shut up." McKay ripped the power bar and handed a portion back to the doctor. "Want half?"

To tell the truth Carson wasn't sure he could keep anything down at the moment. He still felt dizzy and doubted food was a good idea. "No. You eat it. It'd be wasted on me right now."

He wandered to the bunk in his own cell and sat down, leaning against the wall at his back. It was cold and the chill filtered through his jacket, caressing him like a deathly touch. He could hear Rodney and John talking, but was too tired to pay any attention to it or to the time that passed until Aerien returned to them. It must have been at least a half an hour or more, for Carson became aware that he had dozed off as he woke up to the sound of the energy weapon discharging.

His eyes flew open. Beckett raced up from his cot and to the bars as John yelled, "What the hell was that for?" McKay was sprawled unconscious on the floor.

Without an answer Sheppard was dragged out of the cell, fighting and cursing as the Ancient forced him along. Aerien grew tired quickly and knocked John over the head enough to daze him momentarily.

Carson watched helplessly as the Colonel was strapped down to one of the beds. "What are ya doin' ta him?" the doctor demanded, staring in dread as Sheppard's shirt was ripped down the center.

Aerien removed a scalpel from a nearby tray. As he smoothed back the black cloth covering the Colonel's side Sheppard tried to shy away, but it was no use. The Ancient traced a line down Sheppard's flesh mercilessly. It was frightening to watch as John writhed with each new cut, holding back groans of pain that were the only sounds in the quiet laboratory.

"You son of a…" the Colonel growled from between clenched teeth when Aerien let up on him. A fist to the jaw cut him off. Sheppard slumped back, his chest heaving.

The Ancient smeared John's blood along his fingers and palms liberally, then retreated to his workstation. Carson didn't care what he was doing; his only concern was for his friend and so he surveyed the damage. Sheppard's side bled all over the bed he was on. Beckett instinctively ticked off every medical procedure he should perform in response, unable to carry out a single one. "Colonel?" he said gently.

Sheppard groaned, turning his head to see where the voice had come from. "Doc?" he said weakly, trying to free himself of his bonds. "How bad?"

"You'll be fine," he replied, not sure he really would be if Aerien didn't return soon. Beckett turned angry eyes on the Ancient.

"Do somethin' for him, or for pity's sake let me!" he shouted, jerking his cuffs into the bars to jar Aerien's concentration. It was no good. The Ancient held his hands up before him, eyes shut as if he were locked in prayer. The red liquid dripped down his arms as tears.

And then he fell forward, his bloody hands breaking his fall against the workstation. Carson watched the Ancient struggle with his balance, his gasps for air betraying lungs fighting for sustenance. "I'm getting closer," he whispered, not without a note of satisfaction in his tone.

Aerien smiled and gazed at Beckett with a hungry expression that startled the doctor.

In the words of my dear friend Deana - Whump Rules! ;-) At least to write. Is it wrong to like writing this way? ;-D