Dark Element
Tears of the Ancients
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 three men were alone in the laboratory. Aerien had not returned since his little stunt with Carson and they had no way of knowing how much time had passed. It felt like forever to Colonel Sheppard.
The doctor was still lying on his side, half beneath his bunk and half sprawled along the floor of his cell. Sheppard had been watching him for any signs of wakefulness. Above Carson the single source of illumination above was malfunctioning, flickering maddeningly like one of those old time, black and white movies that shuddered across the screen. Other than that and their own light above the rest of the lab was in darkness.
Rodney was yammering. Now Sheppard could appreciate the man was very worried right now, not to mention starving and being driven half-mad by his need for sugar, but if he didn't quiet down in a few minutes, the Colonel was going to have to take some sort of action. There was a pressure right above his left eye that was threatening to invade the right side of his head and the other man was not helping.
"We need to get him up!" McKay growled, pacing back and forth before the bars. He had been doing that for at least twenty minutes.
Leaning against the opposite side, watching the lights inside Carson's cell dance, John retorted, "Just let him sleep it off, Rodney. We don't know what he's been through."
The physicist remained steadfast. He turned towards Sheppard with a frown. "Sleep it off? It's been hours and hours…
"We don't know it's been hours…"
"Look, maybe your brain is too simple to calculate an easy equation like the passage of time, but I'm telling you it's been long enough! We let him stay there like that he might sleep himself off to the pearly gates if you get my meaning! We wake him now!"
Sheppard rolled his eyes. He had a private fantasy of smacking Rodney upside the head just then, but didn't let on. McKay was afraid. Hell, he was too.
As it was, the scientist wasn't going to let things lie and the only reason John didn't stop McKay when he reached through the bars was that a part of him wanted Carson awake too, for good or bad. He was starting to get worried.
Rodney knelt and rested his hand on Carson's shoulder, shaking gently. The doctor moaned, stubbornly remaining groggy until his friend shook a little harder. "Come on, Carson. I need to know if you're all right."
"Mmm?" Beckett hummed, shifting slowly. His hands went up to his forehead, smoothing lazy circles as if to blot out pain. "Rodney?"
The scientist sat back. "Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck uncertainly. "I didn't mean to wake you, but we were getting a little worried."
Beckett sat up slowly, closing his eyes as if the act made him dizzy. "I…I know," he murmured, sounding as though he were too sick to speak.
He was very pale. Blood had dried along the skin beneath his nose, and his expression looked lost. John felt his worries deepen. "How you feeling, Doc?" he asked softly. Holding his hand over his aching side, he crawled across the floor so he could be near the bars.
Carson ran his hands along his forehead and eyes tiredly "I'm a'right," he groaned, taking a deep, shivering breath. As the doctor leaned back against the wall Sheppard watched his hands shake. He had never seen his friend look so ragged.
He exchanged a look with Rodney, then bent his head, trying to get into Carson's field of vision. "You don't look all right." He waited a minute. "Carson?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered. Every sound made him quiver, John noticed, but said nothing. What could he say? He couldn't imagine what Beckett had been through. "I think I hit my head pretty hard," the doctor added with a wince. "It's killin' me."
"Yeah, not to mention what Dr. Demented did to you," Rodney hissed, leaning back on his hands. He glared at the wall.
There was a momentary pause. Carson tensed and Sheppard guessed that was exactly the wrong path to start down at the moment. Those haunted blue eyes rested on the stained floor beneath him as Rodney continued. "What did he do to you?"
Carson shivered and shut his eyes. He obviously hadn't wanted them to ask. It must have been bad, too bad to relive so soon. He turned his head to hide his face, but John saw the sudden mist in his gaze. It rattled John inside to see this. "I dunna know all what he did. It was…" Carson stopped talking, shaking his head.
"Don't worry about it," John assured him, sensing now was not the time for grave discussion. He reached in to tug the cuff of the doctor's pants playfully. "As soon as he opens this door I'm gonna kick his ass. Then we'll all have a beer in the mess hall."
"You'll make matters worse, lad," the doctor warned quietly, shooting a hazy look at the transmitter. "You're not in any condition ta fight."
Sheppard gave him a wan smile. "Not in any condition? I'm breathing, aren't I?" He was kidding, but there was a very real intention there. He had the urge to hurt their host right about now and wasn't going to let a little cut on his side stop him.
Carson shook his head, about to say something to deter him, but the words died on his lips as he again rubbed his forehead. He seemed to get lost in the pain, letting out a hard groan. Drops of sweat beaded on his skin, glistening in the flickering light.
"Carson?" Rodney asked nervously. He turned to John with worried eyes. "This is bad."
"No kidding," John groaned, getting to his knees. He tried to reach his arm through the bars, but Carson was just out of his range. "Doc, can you hear me?"
"Aye," he replied, holding his head. "I'm a'right. It just keeps comin' in waves. I'll be…I'll be fine."
Rodney shook his head. "Yeah, like hell, Carson. Get over here, would you?" The doctor turned his head and managed strength enough to glare. McKay ignored that and motioned him over. "Come on."
Carson let out a breath and moved tentatively closer. "I'm tellin' ya, I'm fine," he insisted, settling down beside the bars. His eyes flew shut and he let out a whimper, then set his jaw in frustration.
"Fine, huh? Let me see. Open your eyes." McKay nudged Carson's hands back away from his face and looked into his wet eyes. "Dizzy?" he asked in a clinical tone.
"Lord help if you're doctorin' me." Beckett sighed, looking at McKay through his exhaustion. "It's just a headache."
Rodney hummed, "Uh-huh," and sat back again. "Concussion headache. Why don't you stay awake with us for a while, hmm? I know you'd probably rather not, but well, wouldn't we all like to be under the affects of an altered state? I know I could go for a nice vodka or twenty about now. God, I hate this place."
The doctor groaned in reply, but remained sitting. To tell the truth Sheppard felt he could go for an altered mind state too, in a similar form to what McKay was implying. There were a few people he had met that he couldn't stand to watch suffer and Carson was one of them. He sighed at the dried blood on the doctor's face and gripped the bottom of his torn shirt. "Why don't we get that blood cleaned off?" he said, ripping a corner off. "McKay, you wanna take this and get some water on it?"
And suddenly they weren't alone. The lights in the lab came on and heavy footfalls betrayed the presence of the Ancient keeping them captive. Carson's demeanor changed from pain to fear as he watched his door.
But Aerien didn't go for him this time. His shadow filtered in through the window above John and Rodney. "It's your turn again, Sheppard. Come."
John stuffed the ripped portion of his shirt into McKay's hand. "Keep an eye on him," he ordered, nodding towards Beckett. The Colonel gave Rodney a look he hoped conveyed his intent that things might get rough in a minute or two. The physicist got it, all right, if his nervous expression was any indicator. He wanted so badly to say, 'If you seen an opportunity get Carson and run', but there was no way.
And so he stood, trusting McKay to do the right thing anyway, without being preempted. John made the choice then that it was now or never. He had to act while Aerien had the door open. Steeling himself, he turned on his foe. Before the Ancient had time to assimilate what was happening, the Colonel threw himself into Aerien, taking him down to the floor with a crash. He groaned hard when pain ripped through his side.
"Oh god!" he heard Rodney yell in a panic.
Sheppard didn't wait around for backup. He sent his fist flying down into the Ancient's jaw. Aerien's head snapped back, but he remained aggravatingly conscious. So Sheppard did it again, but this time Aerien didn't hesitate or strategize.
His side felt as if it had been ripped open. John nearly collapsed at the white-hot agony that burned through his skin as their captor clawed his wounds. Enraged, he brought his fist down again, as hard as his anger would allow, then fell before he could see the results.
"Colonel, are you okay?"
McKay's voice kept him grounded, gave him something to cling to in order to stay conscious. He opened his eyes and saw that Aerien was not moving. "Bastard," he hissed, then laid his head back down on the floor. He had to get the others moving, and said, "Get Carson and go."
He didn't expect McKay to actually say anything else. Okay, maybe a 'We can't leave you,' or 'I'll help you walk,' but he didn't say either of those things. "Well, I would love to do that. I really would. But see, in your little struggle someone apparently kicked the cell door shut. I can't open it."
Sheppard opened one eye. "Crap."
"Precisely."
The Colonel began to pull himself up. He had to stop about halfway and adjust his speed to accommodate the inferno he felt on his side. Blood spattered the floor, the Ancient's clothing. His blood. John glared at the sight of it, then forced back his emotions. There were other things to worry about right now. He resumed his task of simply getting into a seated position. He put voice to his pain. He couldn't hold back.
When he finally made it to his feet he could hardly recall the trip up. John staggered to the door while McKay watched, unable to aid him. For a long moment he could only lean there against it.
There was a touch pad interface near the handle. When he could finally stomach the idea of moving for long enough, he pressed his hand onto it and focused his thoughts on opening the lock. Nothing happened. He tried a command as simple as opening the door. Still nothing.
When he looked up at the window, McKay shook his head, saying, "Oh no." Aerien stirred below and the physicist's voice went up an octave as he repeated, "Oh no. No no no." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put his brilliance to use to save himself and his friends. He looked pained when he arrived at the answer. "Just go."
"What?" The Colonel shook his head.
McKay thrust his arm through the bars, pointing towards the lab door. "He's coming to! Just go before he wakes up! Get help!"
John turned as Aerien shifted his weight lightly. There was no time. "I'll be back for you," he whispered, looking McKay in the face. "I swear to god."
"Yeah, okay," McKay said, waving his hand. "Bring me a Big Mac. And just go!"
The Colonel wasted no time in heading towards the exit. His mind whispered how futile this attempt was with each step, each throb his movements sent jarring into his wounded flesh. He didn't listen, though.
John used whatever furniture he could find for support as he half-hobbled out of the laboratory. There was no brilliant sunlight shining from the windows in the grand office. Sounds assaulted his ears. Wind howled and thunder screamed. He looked outside and saw nothing but lightening and heavy rain.
The sheer violence of the storm kept him stunned for a mere handful of seconds before he started out again. The hall was dim when he reached it. His thoughts were trapped in a haze of pain and blood loss, so his choice of direction wasn't as certain as he would have liked. He hoped he was returning to the transport rings, but in retrospect he discovered he just couldn't lay down any bets.
Not that it mattered. It was only a few labored steps before a voice robbed him of the responsibility of dragging himself to get help. "Just where would you go?" Aerien asked coldly, approaching from behind. "I've closed off the transport rings."
Sheppard turned, prepared to fight to the death if need be. He nodded towards a window. "Fine. I'll take my chances with the storm." The Ancient had a weapon trained on him, true, but giving up wasn't in John's DNA.
Aerien laughed at him, then whipped across the hall. Pressing the gun to his head, he took Sheppard by the arm and jerked him painfully down a side hallway. This was it. The pain was too great. John felt himself start to tremble.
He was shoved to his knees before an exit to the outside world. The Ancient hurled open the doors and wind and water gusted in. Lightening filled the sky in a continuous dance that Sheppard had never seen the likes of before. It didn't stop, and touched down all too frequently. A tree in the distance exploded from one of the strikes.
"Do you see what my power has wrought?" Aerien yelled above the storm. He knelt down beside Sheppard, holding him up so he could look. Another tree crashed to the earthen floor. If he had done this… "Do you still want to try your chance with the weather?"
Sheppard didn't reply; knew it was pointless to argue at this point. Glaring at the storm he made a vow to himself, to his friends and an innocent universe that did not deserve such madness unleashed upon it. He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but so help him he was going to kill this man.
Thunder made the earth quiver. There was a crash from somewhere above that startled Teyla, causing her to whip her gaze back towards the grate once praised for bringing them oxygen. Now she almost cursed it. Her feet were soaked in rainwater that had nowhere else to go, now that it had made it's way from the sky into the dark bunker.
Ronon followed the direction her eyes took, wiping his brow with his arm. "It can't go on forever," he asserted as water poured down the side of the wall, bringing mud and leaves with it.
She wanted to be comforted by that statement, but the deluge gave her increasingly worrisome feelings. The water level had already surpassed her ankle. There were no drains in the floor. "Be that as it may, I believe it is becoming crucial that we find a way out of here."
"No disagreements there." He stared at the grate for a long moment, considering their options. There simply was no emergency release valve that he could find. "All right, we go up," he decided after a moment.
Teyla turned towards him. "Up?"
Ronon nodded. "There's no way we're getting out that door. Not without McKay."
"But I thought you said the grate was unreachable?"
"There has to be something to stand on in here." He directed the flashlight here and there. There were certainly a lot of doors and consoles in the room. Ronon slogged through the rain when his eyes fell on something across the way. Teyla followed, gazing at what appeared to be a weapon's locker. It was taller than either of them stood. Ronon shoved at the cabinet, causing it to teeter slightly. "Can we move it?"
"It's heavy," he responded simply, then shoved again without warning. It swayed and Teyla backed away, startled. Ronon took a deep breath, groaned hard and shoved a third time. This time it moved.
"Let me help." She motioned him to move and he did so she could press her back against the locker. "On three. Ready? One. Two. Three."
They pushed with all their strength and managed to slide it a foot from its original position. Teyla nearly fell into the pool at her feet in exhaustion. But they weren't finished. She looked up and saw the grate a full fifteen feet away from them.
"We'll make it," he told her, and she knew her brief rest was over. Teyla gave him a pale look of thanks, then grit her teeth as they began to push again. The burden was on him, mostly. She gave it her all, but she could feel him driving like a machine. His strain gained voice as he yelled out.
And then it was done. Teyla slumped against the locker, her lungs fighting for air. She watched as Ronon bent down, gathered water with his hands, then splashed his face. He was looking up at the grate again. "You're going to have to get on my shoulders."
Letting out a groan, she straightened. Ronon crouched low, and not without apprehension Teyla climbed onto his back. He straightened slowly so she could keep her balance as she hugged the cabinet until she was high enough to climb onto the top. It was already soaked when she crawled onto the surface and stood up carefully.
"Can you reach it?" Ronon asked, watching her.
Bracing herself against the wall, she turned her attention towards the grate. It was just out of her reach unless she pushed herself onto her toes. "I can't reach it," she finally reported, her frustration mounting. Even on her toes her fingertips just barely reached the surface.
"Can you see anything?"
She looked up beyond the metal shutters and saw sickly light shining around something blocking a hole about thirty feet above her. Teyla felt her stomach muscles clench in worry at the vision. There was no way they were going to climb up that. Turning to tell him the bad news, she paused as a crash filled the air above her.
The floodgates of terror flew open. Water forced its way down the shaft and knocked her off the weapons locker. With a yell of fear Teyla fell and crashed into Ronon. They hit the ground hard. Rainwater gushed from the grate, pressing them both to the wet floor.
Teyla felt herself shoved out of the way of the waterfall. Getting to her feet, painfully aware of the stress her fall had placed on her body, she stumbled towards Ronon as he fought his way out of the falling flood. "Are you all right?" she shouted above the rushing waters.
"I'll live!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "I think now we're in a bit of trouble," he admitted simply, staring at the rising water.
Teyla shivered as the cold liquid climbed up her legs. Frantically, she searched for the flashlight and saw it shining out from beneath the water. The water had not damaged it, and she reclaimed it, pointing it towards the grate. There was no sign that the water was going to stop. "What are we going to do?" she asked, shoving wet hair out of her face.
"I don't know." He looked around for anything they could use, any way to escape. It seemed only seconds had passed before the water was waist high. At that point he fixed her with a grave expression. "Now we wait."
"We can't give up!" she admonished, though in truth she saw no other course of action.
Ronon shook his head at her. "No. We wait for the water to rise. Then I'll shove that grate away from the shaft if I have to kill myself to do it. It's not going to be easy. I promise you that. But it's our only shot."
Teyla swallowed at the implications. A hundred contingencies raced through her thoughts. It was only through her meditative techniques she could banish them beneath the surface to keep herself from giving way to panic, but the fear loomed deep within her.
They waited. The water poured as though a river had covered the earthen surface above. Maybe it had. Maybe it wouldn't matter if they could swim to the top.
The water rose higher and higher, finally lifting them off their feet. It wouldn't be long. Teyla steeled herself and held on to the wall to give herself some sort of support. It was little comfort.
When the ceiling was within Ronon's reach, they swam for the grate. Rusted release levers held it over the shaft, and as he fought to turn them he cut his hand, but didn't stop working. Teyla held him afloat as he struggled with it, then both sighed in relief when it fell from the ceiling. He thrust it aside, then looked her in the eyes. "It's almost time. Hold your breath for as long as you can."
"I will," she promised, nodding her head, blinking back water in her eyes.
They bumped into the ceiling and both moved closer to the shaft. "See you on the surface," he said with a quiet smile, then took a deep breath.
They plunged beneath the waterfall. Teyla couldn't see, could barely think straight as she flailed in the rising waters. She could feel it beating on her as it tumbled down the shaft. For a time she lost track of Ronon, unable to feel him in the freezing water, unable to ear anything except for the terrible rushing noise of it falling. She couldn't even discern whether or not she was still in the shaft. Every second seemed to be screaming that it had been too long, that they should have surfaced by now. Her lungs burned.
And then the water stopped. Teyla broke free of the water's clutches and gasped hard when her face met the air. It didn't last long enough, for she fell back down into the water surrounding her, nearly choking on the water that won past her lips.
Strong arms wrapped around her, shoving her back up towards the precious oxygen that waited. This time she remained above the water long enough to open her eyes. Ronon was pressed quite close against her, his chest heaving as he watched to make sure she was okay.
And then, when she could finally think straight, she noticed it. The shaft continued above them another ten feet. "Teyla," Ronon said, breaking her from her dejected thoughts. She turned into his dark-eyed gaze as he continued, "If we ever find out who created this place, and find him alive…"
Teyla nodded. He had no need to continue. "I won't stop you."
"Good."
"Now what?"
He shoved his back against the wall. "Now the fun begins."
At first she didn't understand what he meant, but it became all too clear as he started maneuvering his feet onto the other side of the shaft. "And this is supposed to work?" she asked him, feeling her weariness tenfold.
Ronon looked at her sympathetically as he inched his way up. "Come on. When this is over I'll let you beat up McKay for leaving us down here."
"Do you imply you would have stopped me otherwise?" she asked gruffly, positioning herself to join him. They were alive, she reminded herself, despite all odds. They were going to live through this and find their friends.
As always, thank you guys+gives out Carson cookies:-D Thanks for the great feedback.