Dark Element
The Storm Before The Calm

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.

"Bad, bad, bad!" McKay hissed, doing a little half-twirl in the middle of the infirmary. He stopped to peer at the silhouette of Ronon standing in the doorway leading back into the office. He threw his arms in the air. "This is just wonderful. You know I was just saying to myself, 'Gee, you know what would make this little adventure through Hell even more exciting?' And hey, who wouldn't want to disappoint me?"

"You sure he isn't unconscious somewhere in there?" Ronon rumbled, looking past him. "It's awfully dark in there."

McKay glanced around him again, then shook his head. "No. He isn't here. What now? I mean what now? I don't know what to do. This is just the perfect ending to a perfect escape."

The warrior stood back to let him stalk past, saying, "Calm down. We'll figure something out."

"Figure what out?" Rodney flared back at him. He could feel his blood pressure rising and that on top of not having eaten in God knew how long, well he was pretty much ready to just hang it all and go postal. He glared at the rainstorm outside. "There's nothing to figure out, because I don't know how to get the power back on, even if it's possible, and we're down a man, and…just…grr!"

"Grr?"

"Yes!" McKay whipped back around. "Grr! In a big pretty package with a big red bow! This is getting way out of hand."

Ronon shook his head at the irate scientist. "We need the power back on. So we go find this Ancient and force him to tell us how."

"He could be anywhere."

"So we search."

For a long moment they stood there, McKay glaring and Ronon maintaining his defiant drive towards getting things done without falling apart. Well, it was nice he could do that. Of course he hadn't been stuck in here with Dr. Insanity for several hideous days, though, so he could afford to be calm and peaceful. Rodney balled his fists for a second, then took a long breath. "Okay, okay. I'm not helping. Think, McKay, think. God, I'm so tired I can't even…"

"Look, why don't we go back? I'll get Teyla and we'll go search. You stay with Beckett."

Rodney blinked. "Really? I mean you wouldn't….you wouldn't mind?"

Cocking his eyebrow, Ronon took on a subtle expression and said, "Would you rather search with you or Teyla?"

The scientist gave a conceding nod. "Good point. Let's go."

They left the office in a rush and made the trip in a short amount of time now that they had a pretty good recollection of the path. About halfway down the final hallway the duo ran into a rather startling development. Water crept down the floor towards them at a startling pace. It was only an inch deep, but the fact that it was there at all worried the Lanteans. They picked up their pace to a sprint, kicking up splashes as they ran for the transporter room.

Ronon made it in first, calling, "Teyla? Carson?"

The warrior found one of them just as Rodney slid into the room behind him. He stopped dead as Ronon knelt down a very wet, very unconscious looking Teyla. "Oh my god! Is she okay?" He looked around the room. Two of the windows were shattered, permitting the entrance of the overflowing water from the sea. He gaped as he looked for a dry spot of land. There were none.

Ronon lifted the Athosian out of the pool of water that had surrounded her. Her lashes fluttered as the shock of being moved awakened her. A moan of pain escaped her lips and that's when McKay noticed the funny way her arm just dangled. Ronon was already pulling her jacket open to get a better look. "It's been broken," he announced in low tones.

"Crap," McKay breathed, running his hand through his hair. Then his already wide eyes went a little bit wider. "Carson? Carson!"

"He has been taken." Teyla's voice stalled the physicist mid-stride as he headed for the chair he had left his friend in. McKay turned towards her as Ronon helped her to her feet, using the sleeve of her jacket to make a rudimentary sling. Her eyes washed over McKay gravely. "The Ancient came and we fought. He attacked me and took Carson."

Ronon's expression turned deadly. "Where is this Ancient?" he asked Rodney with a dark earnest.

Of course Rodney had no idea and opened his mouth to say as much, when the room filled with white light. He instinctively turned towards the transport rings, afraid of what might come through once the wormhole delivered.

He about fainted when he saw Major Lorne heading a team of soldiers. "Oh, thank God," he sighed. "It's about friggen time."

Lorne gave him a look. "Glad to see you too, McKay."

"How did you get through the first transport rings? There was a bulkhead…"

"Dr. Zelenka took care of it," the Major responded just a little too cheerfully. McKay opened his mouth, closed it, opened it to speak again, then settle for a grunt in response to that little bit of information. Lorne allowed himself a smirk, then moved back to business. "Where is Colonel Sheppard?"

"Don't know," Ronon replied simply. "He and the doctor are missing."

Lorne pulled out a scanner and Rodney grabbed it from him before he could even look. "Come on, come on," he said as he powered it up and searched. "Bingo! Three life signs! God, three life signs. Aerien's with them."

"Who's Aerien?" Lorne asked.

Rodney rolled his eyes, knowing the seconds his friends were danger ticked right on by. "Look, we don't have time for this. If you go and see three men, two of which are Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Beckett, shoot the other guy! Don't even ask questions, just nail him."

"That dangerous?" The Major motioned for his team to get moving. "Right. You three get back to safety. This part of the complex looks like it's falling apart. Zelenka says he can use the power from the other building to power the transport rings. There's a medical detail on the other side." He handed McKay a radio. "We'll take care of Sheppard and Beckett."

"I'm gonna send some of the medics after you," Rodney told him. "Carson isn't in good shape. Neither is Sheppard, for that matter."

"Okay. Just tell them to stay clear."

Within minutes they disappeared down the hallway. Rodney turned towards Ronon and Teyla "Okay, gosh, he got you good, didn't he?" he said, noticing the pain the Athosian was in. He motioned to his own arm. "Look, we kind of match." Teyla declined to answer, in too much pain, and he siged. McKay lifted the radio. "McKay to Zelenka."

"Rodney?" The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "It is good to hear your voice again."

"Yeah, well, power this thing up and bring Teyla, Ronon, and I across. Then you can gush all you want to." Upon reflection he supposed he didn't have to sound so snippy, but he was getting impatient to be out of this place.

There was a momentary pause. "On second thought, it isn't that good to hear."

"Radek…"

"All right, all right," the Czech replied hastily.

For the first few moments after McKay and Beckett had departed, leaving Sheppard alone with his P-90 and a plan, he had remained standing with his weapon trained on the door and a traditional death glare fixed on his expression. Maybe that was a little over the top, he had conceded, but he was very in the mood to kill Aerien. It was as if fate had brought him to this moment for the express purpose of the sheer fun he would have in blowing the evil Ancient to hell.

Time, the unseen thief, came and seconds bled into long moments. His arms had gotten tired, which was hardly a surprise since he already felt as though he had been dropped in a giant-sized washing machine on spin. And so John had graduated from standing like the commando of the year to, more or less, sitting like the commando of the year. He had hurled himself back onto his gurney, gun at the ready.

After a short while he had struck a more casual pose. After all, Aerien could be sleeping, having dinner, or even trying to kill a rat with a magnifying glass held up to the sun for all he knew. This waiting could take time.

So he sat with his gun propped on the gurney, the nose of it tapping against his chin as he wondered idly whether or not Rodney and Carson had managed to get out. Oh, if his drill sergeant could have seen that, he didn't doubt he would be doing push-ups until next week.

When the lights had gone out, well then that signified it was time to just get moving. At that point he threw himself off the gurney and with pursed lips, stumbled through the dark towards the exit, muttering about sitting around waiting for nothing. The office did not offer illumination, nor did the hallways, save the light coming from sickly skies braving one monster of a storm.

The burden was on John then to decide what to do. Should he forget Aerien and try to escape? Should he go looking for the man to kill him? Several times he tried to head towards the transport rings, but there was this nagging feeling that stopped him. He wandered the halls a while, trying to decide whether or not he was turning into a mother hen, for he couldn't shake the feeling that Carson was in trouble.

But then, weren't they all in trouble as long as Aerien lived and breathed?

Yet the feeling just wouldn't go away. It was as if he could feel the Ancient's intention to kill his friend at last, before anything could stop him. And so John was currently creeping down a dark hallway, gun aimed straight ahead, searching for the Ancient if only to prove himself wrong first, then explore the joys of killing with him. He kept telling himself that Carson and Rodney were safe on Atlantis, and that he was merely doing his duty by leaving no enemy behind, even if that enemy could quite probably kill him instead.

Now he wondered, as he leaned against the wall and peered around a corner, where would Aerien be?

He cycled through a list of possibilities—including the transporter room—but the Colonel knew Aerien enough to figure that if he had gotten a hold of Carson he wouldn't stick around right there for much longer. There was always the possibility that Aerien could be in his own quarters, sleeping peacefully despite all the havoc he had caused.

No. It just wasn't right and he knew it. He didn't know how he did, but the sensations running through him wouldn't go away and couldn't be brushed aside. Aerien wasn't asleep.

"All right, Obi-Wan," he whispered, knitting his brow. Maybe the Ancient had done something to him, connected them somehow by using him to get to Carson. It sounded stupid, but so did the rest of it when you got right down to it. He started down a particular hallway nearby, whispering, "I'm secure enough to give the Force a shot. Where are you, Aerien?"

There were no sudden images in his mind like Teyla got when she was invading Wraith minds. There was just that cold feeling of certainty and hunger for death. The Ancient was ready to do anything to gain the power he needed for his so-called godhood and in raising Aila.

Sheppard stopped in his tracks as the realization dawned on him. He knew exactly where Aerien was—right where Aila was, or what was left of her. He had said her spirit roamed the quarters and John had assumed he was waxing poetic, but maybe, just maybe he was crazy enough to believe she really was there in that room.

It was where he was and it was where he had taken Carson; Sheppard knew it. And so he stalked the shadows until he found a window that showed him his destination. Aila's little quarters by the gardens shimmered out at him through the storm, coupled two forms moving towards it. "Gotcha," he growled, gripping his gun as the adrenaline pulsed through him.

He found a doorway that opened up into the violence outside. At the end of a flooded hallway it stood, swinging back and forth with the wind, all the glass shattered. There was a fallen tree on the stones outside. A great thunderclap echoed through the air.

Sheppard made his way through the puddle that invaded the complex floor. Rain welcomed him within feet of the threshold, stinging his skin and forcing him to squint as he stepped out into it. Down a short pathway he could see the house and garden, could see wan light beckoning him. He wasted no time in following the summons.

Aerien was there. And so was Carson. They were fighting and for a second Sheppard cheered his friend on for slamming his first into the Ancient's jaw. But then he took hold of a gun, pointing it at their captor.

Sheppard might have gladly watched his friend shoot the man that had hurt him so terribly, but the choice was taken when Aerien used his sudden presence to take Carson's attention away from what he was doing. The Ancient had noticed him at the last second, murmured something John couldn't understand, and Carson made a fatal error. He glanced at the door to confirm the intrusion.

John swore and forced his way into the house, slamming the door against the wall and sending glass shards everywhere as Aerien knocked Carson's aim off its trajectory. A shot rang out and a bullet zinged past the Colonel's head, embedding itself in the wall behind him. In response jerked his P-90 up without missing a beat, but Aerien was not already willing to concede just yet. The second shot hit its target.

The next thing Sheppard knew was that his back had hit the wall hard, and he was now sliding down to the floor. A sudden pain in his shoulder set off alarms in his momentarily hazy thoughts. John cried out in pain, racing his hand to the new wound. Scarlet warmth trickled through his fingers.

"I'm not through with you, Beckett," Aerien hissed darkly, hurling the physician aside as he tried to come to his friend's rescue. He pointed the gun at Sheppard's head. "But I am through with you!"

Another shot rang out. John cringed, sure he was dead and was startled to discover moments later that no, he wasn't actually dead just yet. He opened his half-closed eyes and watched as Carson dragged his would-be killer to the ground. The shot had missed! Sheppard breathed a sigh of relief.

And then he noticed that the doctor now had the high ground on Aerien, and was pointing the gun with shaking hands and a darkness in his eyes that John had never seen before. Aerien glared up at Beckett. "You aren't going to kill me."

"I wouldna bet on that," Carson hissed, taking a step nearer.

This would be the doctor's first cold kill. It wasn't right and John knew it. This kind of thing would linger and weigh on a man like Beckett for the rest of his life. He knew that by experience and wasn't going to let it happen. "Doc, don't," he said gently, trying to reason him out of this.

This time Carson didn't take his eyes off Aerien. "He deserves ta die, John. Ya know it as well as I do. Look what's he's done ta ya, ta me!"

"Maybe, but…"

"No! I'm goin' ta do this."

"Beckett, stand down!" Sheppard commanded a bit more earnestly. If he could keep Carson uncertain for just a little bit longer…

Aerien laughed at the doctor. "If you shoot I will return and your people will feel the full extent of my power. You have no idea what I am capable of."

His words were a bit childish, perhaps, and all together annoying, Sheppard thought, as he labored through the pain to raise his P-90. But he had to reflect on a private 'thank you' to the Ancient for the distraction before he said, "Shut up," and pulled the trigger. Aerien went down without another word, his blood spattering the white carpet beneath him. Sheppard dropped his weapon with a hard groan, holding his shoulder as a white searing wave throbbed through the gunshot.

What he hadn't counted on was Beckett throwing himself down, sending a right hook into his jaw. He fell back, totally unprepared for that move as the doctor grabbed his collar and hissed, "Why! Why did ya do that?!"

Somehow he thought saying, It seemed like a good idea, wasn't one. Seeing his pain, regaining his own senses, the doctor sat back away. He seated himself at the Colonel's side, angrily jerking back the torn shards of his black shirt. Sheppard winced, touching his lip.

"Ya took my revenge from me," Carson whispered hard, ripping at his own shirt, balling it up and pressing it against the wound. He glared into the Colonel's eyes.

Sheppard held his shoulder to stall the bleeding. Beckett threw himself at his side to rest now that the burden had been taken from him. "I know. It was kinda rude, wasn't it?" He sighed as he looked over the dead Ancient's unmoving form. "I wouldn't get too mad though. You're gonna need me to drag you out of here. If I don't need you, that is. I'm feeling a little shaky at the moment."

The doctor frowned at him. "Stop yammerin'. This isn't some sort o'joke, ya right bloody bas—"

John shook his head to forestall his friend from saying anything he would regret. "Look, I wasn't going to let you live with that kind of burden on your shoulders. I'm sorry if that hurt our friendship, but that's the choice I made. Ow," he growled, flexing the fingers of his hand on the gunshot side. "Damn it."

"Because I'm not cut out for this sort o'thing?" Beckett added to his defense bitterly.

"No." Sheppard gave the other man a firm look. "That's not it at all. I did it because I don't want those things that make you you to change. People need you to be a healer."

For a long moment Beckett wouldn't relent, his eyes still dark and angry. But then weariness won out. He turned his gaze on the rainfall. "Thank ya, lad." The doctor let out a sigh. "I dunna think I could move even if I saw a nymphet wavin' a sack o'cash at me with a promise in her eyes. I s'pose all we can do now is wait."

"Yeah. Just like in the movies." The Colonel smirked suddenly, moved his cheek onto Carson's shoulder, and mustering the softest voice he could, said, "Oh Frodo!"

Carson elbowed him none-too-gently in response. "Get offa me ya cheeky bugger." He rolled his eyes and pulled himself away.

It was a serious thing he had taken from his friend, John knew. He was no stranger to that cold, seductive voice that vengeance called a man with. The doctor wore a haunted expression that betrayed emotions John himself had experienced. The vision brought up dark memories of Kolya. Even now it stirred up the old feelings. At least he had this. He had spared his friend something that would have changed who he was, and not for the better.

He knocked the doctor's arm with his hand. "Hey. How are you feeling, anyway?"

Carson gave him a sandy-eyed look. "Are ya kiddin', lad?" He let out an expansive breath. "A long time ago I used ta have this fantasy that I knew what true exhaustion felt like. Let me tell ya somethin', a 24-hour shift at the end o'two weeks bad sleep has nothin' on the way I feel right now."

"Heh," John grunted through a yawn. "No kidding. I think I'll sleep for a few days at least when we get back. I keep having these daydreams about my mattress…"

"Well, ya won't be seein' that right away, I can tell ya that right now."

Sheppard cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

Carson looked at him a long moment, waiting for it to click. "Ya think I'm goin' ta let ya just wander on ta yer quarters, then, in that kinda shape? Not bloody likely."

The Colonel rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. "Yeah, well, at least I'll have company." He threw a sidelong glance at the physician.

The other groaned, but didn't say anything in response. It was an inevitability that neither one of them could escape, John supposed. And speaking of escape, he threw his gaze out the shattered glass doorway just on the off chance that Rodney might somehow wander out and rescue them. There was no such luck, but he did see something of interest. "Hey, Carson?"

"I'm tryin' ta die in peace," the doctor complained sleepily.

John looked and saw his friend slumping against the wall, eyes closed and arms cuddled around himself. He sighed. "I hate to ruin that for you, but we're not out of the woods just yet."

Those blue eyes opened like a trap springing open. "What d'ya mean?"

"You want me to lie so you have a few more minutes to sleep?"

"Lad." John pointed at the water flooding the yard at that plaintive tone. The doctor glanced at it, then looked back at Sheppard through a grave expression. "That's no' funny."

Sheppard shrugged innocently. "I didn't put it there." He watched the water lap at the dirt down the beaten pathway towards the rest of the complex. "We're gonna have to do something about this, you know."

"Aye."

"Sooner, rather than later."

"Aye."

The doctor's tone reflected most of the feelings running through Sheppard as he pressed a hand against the floor to push himself up. "Come on, Doc," he said, holding his shoulder painfully. "We've made it this far."

Carson joined him rather reluctantly. "Why do people always say that? I mean it's no' as if that means there's some sort o'guarantee that we've got a free ticket through the next bit o'rough and tumble."

John shrugged, but didn't respond, figuring he was probably right. Draping his good arm around the doctor, he leaned against his friend even as Carson leaned into him, and said, "Yeah, well, here's to the little things that drive you crazy right to the end, eh?" He smirked at the doctor's cynical expression.

"Aye, an' ta the drinkin' that'll occur after we make it through."

The first step out into the rain was as expected—cold and stinging. The path before them was slippery and seemed much longer on the way back than it had on the way up. Each new step brought them closer to their goal, however, and so they pressed on without tarry as the seawater inched towards them. "You know I really, really hope Rodney has the whole bulkhead thing figured out by the time we make it back. Where is he, anyway? Why isn't he with you?"

The doctor stopped reflexively and looked at him. "Ya mean they didna find ya?"

"They?" Wiping his wet face, John squinted in the rain to see the doctor. "Who? What's going on?"

"Teyla and Ronon!" Carson replied, and his face went stricken. "And John, Teyla…she's been hurt pretty badly. Aerien did it ta her. Ronon and Rodney went ta find ya."

Instinctively, John pressed the doctor into moving again, saying, "We've got to get to her."

"Aye."

As they neared the entrance a piece of the complex crumbled under the stress of the sea crashing against it. There was a great splash followed by a wave that swept toward the two men too rapidly to be avoided. John took the brunt of the blow and fell to his knees, away from Carson's grasping hands.

"Lad!" Carson shouted over the torrent swirling around them. "Are ya a' right? The place is bloody fallin' apart!"

Sheppard swallowed a mouthful of water, choked and grasped blindly for help. His hand found Carson's after a few moments of struggling, and he struggled to his feet. "I'm fine," he replied, still coughing. John looked up and watched another chunk of marble brick wall teeter a few yards away. "This is bad!"

"No lyin'! Come on."

Still trying to clear his lungs, Sheppard followed that order like a man on a mission and as soon as they passed out of the cold and into the darkness of the building, he sank down to his knees again, this time by his own will. Carson flopped down beside him. "At this rate the whole place'll be down in an hour," he observed, out of breath and pale.

Sheppard nodded as he glanced back out towards the little building that now served as a tomb for their enemy. "Well, he always seemed buried in his work." He nodded towards the outside.

He didn't see the pale ghost of a smile brush across Carson's lips. John was too busy falling toward the floor. He was aware of another gust of water blowing in from the open doorway they had just left behind, and of the doctor's hands on him, trying to rouse him. It did no good. His strength had just bled dry.

And then a voice sounded in the darkness closing in around him. "Colonel? You look awful. Medics! We have a gunshot wound! Get over here!" It was Lorne. Or a figment of his imagination that sounded like Lorne, anyway. John couldn't open his eyes to confirm it, so he simply gave himself to the darkness and trusted that fate and luck that his being laid out on a stretcher wasn't a hallucination.

Somehow he had the feeling it wasn't. Especially when one of the soldiers said, "Major, we've got a problem."

There shall be whump every step of the way! ;-) Thanks guys+sniffle+