~ Left Behind ~

An Author's Note follows the story.

Word Count, Chapter 4: 4128

Word Count, total: 14,536

Disclaimer: 'Stargate Atlantis' and its characters are not mine. I would not have left them under the aegis of those whose interest lay elsewhere.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Once again Elizabeth found herself in a corner of the infirmary, waiting for answers. The scene before her was one of seeming chaos, the organized commotion one finds in ER centers. Beckett spoke with each doctor or nurse or technician working on the various patients before he finally approached her in the corner.

"How are they doing, Carson?"

The doctor smiled briefly. "We're still in luck. Mostly. The injuries to the rescue teams are fairly minor. They'll be released, with the exceptions of Weller and Martin. To hear them all tell it, they went up against a cross between ninja warriors and a windmill." He smiled again. "Mostly minor cuts and bruises," he dismissed, then sobered. "Things could have been very much worse. Lieutenant Weller has an arm injury that will require minor surgery. A little deeper or lower and it would have been major surgery, possibly permanent loss of some function. Sergeant Martin says he tripped over his own feet and that's how he broke his leg." The Scot shook his head. "Don't be fooled by the jokes. It's a way of coping; they're worried about the colonel."

"How is he?" Elizabeth slid her gaze to the single bed, set apart from the others, where several medical staff, plus machines and monitors blocked her view of the patient.

Beckett shook his head again. "I'm not certain what we're dealing with here; we're running tests now. These three," and he pointed to the 'drunks' still sitting on one gurney, "have the sunburn mark. They're experiencing loss of coordination, a little disorientation and minor tremors, but they've not been drugged. There's not much change in their brain chemistry and the symptoms are disappearing fast. The drug seems to enhance and prolong the effect of the device. It also, as I said before, makes the subject more susceptible." He switched his gaze to the single bed. "Colonel Sheppard is heavily drugged and he has seven marks on his neck. Whatever the purpose of the drug, whatever the purpose of the device, he's been subjected to seven times the treatment that Rodney, Teyla and Ronon experienced."

"How are they now?" Elizabeth saw the three teammates had opened the dividing curtain in order to observe the activity.

"They could probably be released, but they won't leave."

"Of course not," Elizabeth said evenly. "What can we do?"

"Wait. It will be hours, perhaps days. We're giving him fluids and something to normalize his blood chemistry. He has no other marks on him but there's tenderness to the left side of his jaw and his cheek." Beckett raised his brow and spoke tentatively, shaking his head lightly. "My guess is...he was slapped."

"Slapped?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.

"Rather vigorously," Beckett nodded, then he frowned. "His heart is under great strain and I couldn't even guess at what's going on in his brain. The neural implications are like nothing I've seen. So, we support him with fluids and let his own system handle it. All we can do is wait."

"Hey, Doc," Ronon shouted.

"I don't think waiting is Ronon's long suit," Elizabeth said.

They started toward the trio and were still some distance away when Rodney yelled, "How's Sheppard? What's g-going on?"

There it was again, Elizabeth noted, the proverbial pin-drop silence, as if everyone in Medical had frozen in order to listen.

"We have not been tol' anything," Teyla added.

"Do I need to remind all of ye that there are patients here who need peace and quiet?" Beckett's comment was met with stubbornness if not outright mutiny. He relented. "Colonel Sheppard is in serious but stable condition. He was exposed to the same conditions as ye three, only more severe. And just like all of ye, he'll need time. And quiet," he finished sternly.

"Why is he still asleep?" Rodney demanded.

"It's actually closer to coma, not sleep," Beckett clarified.

Rodney's mouth dropped open in shock and fear. He almost pleaded, "He'll be okay, won't he, C-Carson?"

"I think so," the doctor assured, "but we won't know for several hours. He's not out of the woods yet." He looked at the anxious faces. "He's strong and he's a fighter. We'll know more after we have some test results."

"When will he wake up?" Teyla inquired.

The Scot lightly shook his head. "He'll wake up when his body tells him it's time to wake up, and not before. The only thing we can do is give him time."

"Voodoo," Rodney mumbled.

Elizabeth squeezed Carson's arm and told him she'd check back later. There was nothing to do but wait.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

The day passed and John Sheppard did not wake. Reading the latest update on the patients' health wasn't enough ~ Elizabeth wanted to see first-hand. A glance at her watch informed her it was long past time for day-duty personnel to have retired, yet there were still quite a few people in the corridors. She bumped into Evan Lorne just as she arrived at her destination.

"Elizabeth. Major. I'm glad ye're here." Carson Beckett welcomed them quietly into the infirmary. "I was just about to contact ye both. I've released Lieutenant Weller to quarters with a dire warning that I'll strap him to the bed if he doesn't follow medical instructions. He has two friends to stay with him and he's doing fine. Now, Sergeant Martin went through some very complicated surgery; Dr. Ames did a good job." As he spoke they walked toward the sergeant's bed. Martin was a bit groggy, but in good spirits. "Ye still have a long road of rehabilitation, son, but I see no reason ye won't be good as new."

"How's the colonel?" was Martin's only response.

"And that's the other bit of good news I wanted to tell ye." The doctor spoke while opening the privacy curtain.

Teyla looked up and smiled in greeting. Her hands lowered to her lap, where she held some Athosian beadwork. She sat tailor fashion in the middle of her bed. Rodney looked up briefly from his reclining position on top of his bed, but went back to scrolling data on his laptop. In a bed between them John Sheppard lay quiet and still. On the end of the colonel's bed were Ronon's boot heels. The big man's ankles were crossed, he was comfortably ensconced in a chair, his injured arm lay across his abdomen. He wore his gun in its holster. Elizabeth knew there were a dozen reasons Ronon shouldn't have his weapon in the infirmary, just as she knew no one would say a word.

"His latest test results are very encouraging," Beckett smiled. "His temperature and color are good, his breathing is not labored, his brain chemistry is normalizing, his BP is down. Better yet, his heart is in nearly normal rhythm and he is in normal sleep. I think we'll hear from the man himself sometime soon."

"So, he'll be okay," Sergeant Martin announced firmly.

Elizabeth took a couple steps closer to the sergeant's bed. "How do you feel, Sergeant?" she inquired gently.

The man widened his eyes and blinked several times. "A bit stupid, ma'am. I really did trip over my own feet." He shook his head. "These three ninja dudes came out of nowhere. Weird tan robes and covered faces. Looked like they walked out of the walls." Elizabeth noticed the three teammates glanced at one another. "PJ got zapped, a kind of electric hum, and he went down on one knee, shaking like somethin' awful. He practically threw the colonel at me, then turned and just grabbed onto the ninja and held on. Well, you know PJ, sir."

"Indeed I do," Lorne nodded in understanding.

"I suppose he didn't have much choice. We already knew the Wraith stunners didn't work."

Rodney looked up, curious, then went back to his laptop.

"I guess I wasn't expecting the colonel to weigh so much."

Rodney snorted his agreement but never looked away from the data on his computer screen.

"Anyway, I didn't exactly catch Colonel Sheppard and we went down in a tangle, ninja and PJ and then Nico got zapped and he just held on, too." Martin covered a yawn. "Adams got one of the zap-guns and it seemed pretty silly, firing what looks like a little kids' squirt gun, and there we were in a narrow hallway, no room to maneuver and not wanting to make any noise, and Nels came barging down the hall, stepping over everyone, and he just punched them in the nose. Took 'em out, one by one. No kiddin', sir. There's nothing like a big, angry Swede."

"Ninjas didn't have a chance," Lorne smiled knowingly.

"Yeah, we knew what to do the next time." Martin grinned, making a fist. "First time having a fight was an actual job, but it was still a mess to get everyone back to the Jumper. Not exactly FUBAR- pardon me, ma'am, but it sure wasn't textbook."

"Perhaps not textbook, but a success," Elizabeth declared.

"Thank you, ma'am." Sergeant Martin closed his eyes, then opened them wide to stay awake. "I don't know why they didn't just kill us. I mean, if all they wanted was the colonel..."

"That's enough for now," Carson Beckett intervened. "You need to get some rest, young man." He pulled the bed away and moved it to a quiet corner of the complex.

"I, too, wondered why they did not kill us." Teyla straightened her legs and leaned back on her hands. "If they wanted only to keep John, why allow us to escape? Why return us through the Gate? They have advanced technology. What is their goal?"

"They don't seem to be too aggressive," Elizabeth ventured. "The weapons are certainly limited in destructive ability."

"Ma'am, we don't know what they might have accomplished if they'd had more time," Lorne countered.

"They're not friendly. Leave it at that," Ronon added.

Rodney shook his head. "There's more to the story."

"What do you mean, Rodney?" Teyla sat upright in her bed.

"We went to the planet because the Database indicated there was some kind of Ancient facility. And we do know 'something' is still there, still providing some kind of security."

"Perhaps the world has a special shield," Teyla submitted.

"Not a shield, and not the whole planet. It's more a cloak or camouflage for the outpost. Once upon a time there could have been more security measures." Rodney closed his laptop and sat on the edge of his bed. "We don't know the original design of the facility since the Makeover Multitudes re-purposed it all."

"I don't understand, Rodney," Elizabeth said in confusion.

"We agree there was an Ancient complex," Rodney lectured, "and naturally some security; the MALP didn't read anything on the outside and the Wraith stunners didn't work on the inside. If Wraith arrived, the chances are they wouldn't find anything, and if they did, they'd be at a disadvantage within the wall." Rodney checked to make sure his audience was following. "The Ancients build their facility, operate it, probably never see a Wraith. And then they leave. Eons pass. One day humans show up and set up shop. They start their primitive little village. They explore. They find the 'invisible' Ancient structure. And start dismantling it."

"Why not just go inside?" Lorne questioned. "Move in."

"Because it's obvious no one had or has ever had the gene. They couldn't get in until they chipped away at the wall. Think. It's not a shield, just a camouflage. The structure itself is vulnerable. And they still need Sheppard's gene. Even now. All the doors we passed had damage, like from pry bars. Physical force was needed to accomplish what Sheppard can do with a thought."

"You're losing me, Doc," Lorne said earnestly.

At his listeners' confused looks, Rodney pushed on. "You've seen Jumper Two's video log. Near the Gate there was Ancient stuff everywhere ~ door, roof, bridge, whatever. We were able to use the Gate because I found crystals strung up like windchimes and I used them in the Jumper DHD." It was clear the thought still rankled, that so much Ancient tech had been destroyed unknowingly by looting. "That jungle-covered Ancient junkyard is part of an old, abandoned village made of bits and pieces the locals had taken away from the outer wall. Eventually the villagers chipped away until they breached the wall. That's why the camouflage is no longer perfect and a small part is visible. But what can they do inside an Ancient structure if they can't operate anything? Security, remember? No gene, so nothing works. Even doors won't open except by force. So they continue their dismantling process and they build their own city within the Lantean wall, using their own architecture to suit their needs and using the Ancient materiel as building blocks."

"Rodney, you're being very long-winded," Elizabeth patiently reminded him. "Try to come to the point."

Rodney opted for smugness. "Okay, try this. First, we were allowed to escape ~ they let us go ~ so we would return for Sheppard and that would give them the opportunity to acquire another test subject; the rescue teams were zapped with the 'squirt gun' but no one was worth keeping. They would have let everyone go, again, except Sheppard. Second, they didn't kill us because I don't think 'kill' is in their vocabulary, although the population decreased by three while the rescue Jumper was there."

"Rodney, what are you saying?" Elizabeth demanded.

"I've been looking at the data collected by the rescue Jumper and from the 'squirt gun' device; Zelenka's been studying it and has sent me his findings. We've all been thinking about it as a weapon, some kind of neural disrupter that makes the victim a 'drunk'." He paused for effect. "I think they're trying to reverse-engineer Sheppard's brain activity as a way of activating Ancient technology. The device collects data about the victim's neural pathways. They obviously have their own fairly advanced technology. Self-sufficiency invariably promotes advance- "

"What are you getting at, McKay?" Ronon grumbled.

Rodney frowned in exasperation. "The junkyard town wasn't built and abandoned in just a few years. Generations go by, humans naturally advance if there's no interference by the Wraith. Their science is advancing as they're dismantling the Lantean structure. Even without accessing the Ancient tech they understand that living within the camouflage bubble is advantageous. They build a new city based on Ancient plans, including water and energy use. There are no ZedPMs; they're taking power from a geothermal source." He stopped and looked inwardly. "If you think about it, they're very efficient. They take everything and make use of it. They have to, since there's no room to expand."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth had reached her limit.

Rodney started. "They're playing catch-up," he rushed to explain. "These people have probably never seen a Wraith and may have no real concept of cullings or even Ancients. They don't trade and may not know a Gate can take them to other worlds."

"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the fact we destroyed their only way of leaving the planet," Elizabeth admitted.

"They're no worse off than they were when they didn't know a Jumper DHD could activate the Gate," Rodney countered. "Gate travel is not part of their culture. All that remains of historic memory is the need to stay within the protective confines of the camouflaged city. They don't need a DHD."

"Still..." Elizabeth wavered.

Teyla said slowly, "You mentioned three people had died."

"No way off the planet and limited space inside the wall." Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "Population control."

"Are you serious?" Lorne asked in disbelief. He re-stated for clarification, "They kill their own to maintain their numbers."

"They don't see it that way," Rodney explained. "Don't think Jackson's Lottery, think Star Trek's 'disintegration chamber'. It's just a fact of life that if your number's up, you walk into a room and don't come out. I could see it in the Jumper data." He pointed to the colonel. "I think they wanted Sheppard's gene in order to expand or operate something. The fact that we made a beeline up the hill and the wall let us in must have seemed like an answer because clearly they're already working on the problem."

"We could open a dialogue, let them know there are options," Elizabeth suggested. "We have knowledge to share."

"They don't share or trade," Rodney repeated. "They have nothing extra and they need nothing more than what they produce. I think their science is near our level and, like us, they're living in an Ancient space. The problem is they'd dismantled a large part of that space before their science developed to the point they knew what they had, and now they're trying to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Also, they don't have Colonel Super Gene."

Ronon responded tersely, "I vote 'No'. They're better off than most worlds. Let it go."

"I think they'll probably develop their own version of ATA gene therapy now anyway. Besides," Rodney argued, "who was it who said we didn't have the right to interfere with other cultures, especially if they have a system that works, for whatever reason? Recall the religious zealots who believed- "

"McKay..."

Elizabeth gasped and looked down. No one even breathed in order to hear John Sheppard's next words.

"Keep 't down. Gotta headache."

"Carson, get over here!" Rodney yelled.

"Rodney..." The colonel grimaced and lapsed back into sleep.

Carson Beckett arrived in a rush. He checked the monitor and drip line and then aimed a penlight into his patient's eyes. A hand reached up to push away the light. "Aye, son, just sleep. Ye need it. It's not unexpected for him to be in and out of sleep a while yet." He stood straight and pocketed the light. "He'll do. He just needs time. And quiet, Rodney. Ye hear me? Quiet."

An unknown tension Elizabeth hadn't even recognized was suddenly gone. Out in the halls she heard people moving about. Elizabeth smiled inwardly, thinking they were probably finally all going to bed because the news that Colonel Sheppard had actually spoken was already making its way through the city.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

"You're done, aren't you?" Rodney didn't wait for an answer before reaching over and grabbing the yogurt cup. Only Sheppard was still officially stuck in the infirmary, connected to a monitor, but they were all sitting around a makeshift dining table, mostly finished with their meals.

"Rodney," Teyla admonished gently, "John needs to eat his dinner. All of his dinner. Please put that back."

Rodney looked as if he might argue, but he replaced the cup on the tray. When Sheppard reached out for it, his hand began to shake violently. Teyla picked up a straw, placed it in the creamy mixture, and held the straw to the colonel's lips.

"Well, as I was saying," McKay continued as he resettled in his chair, "the 'squirt gun' allows them to record impulses in the brain. Add the drug's influence, which sort of slows things down, and get a 'susceptible' test subject to operate Tech while they monitor neurotransmitters. It's the beginning of Carson's gene research, although they most likely had little progress until now since no one on the planet has the gene." He watched his team leader struggle with tremors and he nervously took a sip from his own drink before continuing. "Once they saw how Ancient tech responded to you, they knew what they were looking for. We're not sure why you have multiple sunburn marks."

"Sheppard's stubborn." Ronon leaned back from the table. His arm was not in a sling, but he still kept his wrist in a protected position at his waist.

Rodney looked vague for a moment, then he frowned. "Well, I suppose if he resisted and was uncooperative in the suggestive state... The problem is, if they 'squirted' him too many times, he'd end up comatose." He observed Ronon's steady stare. "Oh."

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla was gathering items to stack the food trays for removal.

"I'm good. Still have a headache."

Rodney snagged a couple untouched cookies from Sheppard's tray. "Even with your 'uncooperative' help they'll probably be able to make headway on gene therapy. They obviously knew the ATA gene is needed to access the Technology. I also think they have a way off the planet; I think there's another DHD."

"So you were wrong," Ronon grunted.

He couldn't talk with his mouth full, but Rodney glared as he chewed and swallowed. "I never said absolutely there was only the Jumper DHD," he argued. He turned away to address the others. "Like all the other pieces of the outpost, I think DHD components have probably been functioning as something for centuries. These people put everything to use." He leaned in to give weight to his explanation; Ronon pinched the remaining cookie from its position near Rodney's elbow. "And I don't think we were allowed to escape just to see if there were others like Sheppard," Rodney announced. He dusted the crumbs from his fingers and reached for the absent cookie.

"So you were wrong again," Ronon interpreted.

Rodney turned to refute the comment, saw the last bite of cookie popped into Ronon's mouth, and glared again. "I said 'just', as in 'there is more to the story'." He turned to Sheppard and Teyla. "I think they wanted to see if we could get off the planet. We arrived through the Gate, so could we leave? They waited until the Gate was active to keep you and get rid of us. And now that they know what a DHD looks like, they may be able to put theirs back together. Wherever it is. They appear to be very quick learners. They observe and then they mimic."

"Does that include slapping me around?" John glowered at Ronon, who grinned evilly then looked nonchalant.

"Probably," Rodney admitted, "and it's why they were much better fighters against the rescue teams than us. With us their only advantage was camouflage. If Ronon and Teyla had been in fighting form, we'd probably all have made it through the Gate."

"How many visitors have those guys ever seen?" John asked doubtfully. He reached up to scratch his chin and winced. "If there's no reason to trade, seems to me no one would visit. Not too many people travel just to explore."

"If a traveler from Planet Y went there and never returned, no one from Planet Y would use the address again," Rodney agreed. "Word gets around. The real question is: if generations go by and no one used the Gate, was it forgotten? Time passes. The society advances. They start to understand what the Ancients have left behind, what the Gates are. If someone does arrive, the locals would want to know how the Gate works. And if a traveler couldn't leave, he'd be stranded. And basically of no use to them."

It was McKay's intonation that caught John's attention. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"

"A visitor of no value would be of no value."

"Why did they not simply ask us," Teyla wondered.

"Don't know and not gonna ask," John replied. He shifted in the chair and grimaced.

"They're not friendly. I said it before," Ronon seconded.

"Just once I'd like a mission to go as planned," Rodney lamented. "It would be nice if everything worked perfectly ~ new discoveries, nice people, and no monsters or ninjas."

"And some hot blonde?" John quirked an eyebrow. "One who thinks you can do no wrong?"

There was a light in Rodney's eyes as he considered some inner vision. He refocused. "You know, this all happened because the door opened for your show-off gene." It was an accusation.

"You're saying it's my fault?" John asked incredulously.

"Well, if we'd arrived, looked around, and just left, they'd be studying the Jumper DHD now to figure out how we made the Gate work. If we'd walked up to the wall and couldn't go any farther, I think they'd only follow us to see if we could leave, and that means they'd be studying the Jumper DHD now. But once the door opened for you, that set everything else in motion."

"That's an awful lot of 'ifs', buddy," John drawled.

"And if we'd taken a Jumper, as I recommended..." Rodney challenged with a final comment in order to have the last word.

SGA ~ SGA ~ SGA

Elizabeth Weir quietly backed away from the privacy curtain. She had come to the infirmary to speak with Carson and personally to check on the injured. As she headed for the exit, she smiled; John Sheppard had certainly made it home. *~*

...

Author's Note: A reference is made to Shirley Jackson's story 'The Lottery'. If you are unfamiliar with it, you can find a summary online. Reference is also made to an episode of Star Trek in which two planets wage war with computers and if someone is 'calculated' to be a casualty, that person reports to a disintegration chamber in order to go from a theoretical value to an actual casualty of war.

This tale had a strange evolution. It began with the 'sidewise interpretation' of 'They also serve who only stand and wait' (Milton). My stories tend to be about the Team, together, in some situation (and then Rodney explains everything). I wanted to do a story about the Team (of course) by focusing on the people who do not go offworld, those who must wait in the city, even when something goes wrong. The natural focal point was Weir, the administrator. [To give her someone to talk to I made Lorne sit out this rescue.]

I had the teaser in mind and I knew where I was going with the story. The teaser was meant to make readers think the title referred to Sheppard, but it was also to refer to those who are not involved in the rescue, those who can only stay home and wait. And that includes the injured teammates.

I thought it would be better to see - not just hear - what happened in the teaser fight, otherwise the Team would have to give a play-by-play account of the action and that would be stilted. In fact, if I didn't write about what occurred on the planet, the Team would have to explain, explain, explain. The next thing I knew, the section taking place on the planet kept growing, longer and longer, more details, and then I had a two-part story that was half adventure, and half waiting! At one point I almost decided to make two completely different stories - an adventure, and then a story about the Team needing to be rescued offworld (for a reason easy to understand without details!) and ONLY taking place from Weir's view in Atlantis.

But I'd come so far (and so long) with this story, so I kept it. I hope it works. [And Rodney still has to explain everything (what would I do without David Hewlett?!).] For those readers who were expecting a rousing adventure from start to finish, maybe next time...

Thanks for reading.