The Fly Away Remedy
Abby Ebon
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate: Atlantis.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
-When Teyla had arrived in Atlantis-
Gasping and staggering back from the shock – landing roughly on the smooth floor of Atlantis. After Teyla leapt through the 'Gate – and at the near miss from the Wraith dart's attack, Atlantis's screeching alarms betraying it's anxiety at her early return.
Teyla, couched on the floor as she was – spun around to see the 'Gate flickering away.
Where are they? Teyla thought, her eyes searching her surroundings – sure that she had missed their arrival. Surely, after all, she could not have been the only one to make it back – John and Ronon having been so close to the 'Gate when she'd leapt through it.
"Teyla? Where are John and Ronon?" Rodney demanded of her, coming to her side – others of Atlantis' teams setting their weapons on the 'Gate.
"I – I don't know, they were right behind me! Oh, Gods – I left them, Rodney – they were right behind me with that damned Wraith dart! We have to go back – dial it again!" Teyla ordered the baffled technicians – as Rodney shook his head over hers, knowing they couldn't – and wouldn't, do so until they got all of Teyla's story and knew what had happened. They could not afford to go in blind.
"Teyla, it's alright, this is John and Ronon we're talking about, they'll be okay. Are you hurt?" Rodney asked, and Teyla shook her head, dazed from her panic and Rodney's assurances – maybe Rodney already knew they were safe? The thought gave Teyla some hope as Rodney got her up, and led her to Weir's office.
"Teyla! What happened?" Elizabeth asked, seeing the state of the other woman. Normally controlled and serene, Teyla looked panicked at the thought of having left her teammates – who, Weir knew, she thought of as family, behind.
"We got there – everything seemed normal, there weren't any signs of technology, we were only there a few minutes, and then this Wraith dart came out of no where – John ordered a retreat. Elizabeth, we have to go back!" Teyla pleaded, and Elizabeth nodded, a determined look entering her eyes.
"We will Teyla." Elizabeth swore to her. She gestured for Rodney to take Teyla to the infirmary. Once they were gone – she stood, and made her way to the 'Gate room, ordering the free teams to come to her – and then to get connection with the world she had sent John and his team too.
She was unsurprised when they could not establish a connection – the 'Gate had failed unexpectedly. Then, left with little other choice, and frowning only a little, she ordered a connection established with Atlantis, and the Daedalus.
"Ah, Elizabeth, what can I do for you?" Caldwell asked, having seen her. Elizabeth sighed, and Caldwell grew serious.
"You remember, Caldwell, that Command ordered me to send a team to explore the planet that the Wraith seem to be so interested in?" Elizabeth said, and Caldwell nodded, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at someone off screen.
"Let me guess, you need us to go to John's rescue?" Caldwell asked, bemused and yet serious – something, Elizabeth found, only he was capable of pulling off.
"Yes." Elizabeth answered shortly, and Caldwell nodded.
"Send us the location, Weir; we'll do our best to get him back." Caldwell promised.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"Where is John, Runner?"
The question echoed in Ronon's mind, and he just lay there – hurt that John had left, and dazed at the fact that Aiden Ford of all people, had snuck up on him. Ford's one Wraith black eye flashed in anger, and Ronon, frozen beneath him, did not answer.
"I will not ask again, Ronon." Ford snarled down at him, the knife pressing harder into his skin.
A part of Ford was very glad to have a warm body frozen beneath him – the Wraith part he assured himself, and quickly disregarded the feelings.
"I don't know." Ronon was being truthful; the answer had enough emotion in it for the two of them to recognize that. Ronon cursed himself, having given Ford an upper hand, and practically shouted his weakness – John.
Ford's nose flared, taking in Ronon's scent – of fear, of John – and of something that should not have been on this planet, yet was connected to John. His breath hissed slowly from between his teeth, and he took it in – examining it with a Wraith's senses.
It smells, Ford thought with realization - stunned, like a Queen's mating-season hormones.
"What have they done to him?" Ford found himself asking aloud of Ronon – not that he expected a mere Runner to know, or understand what the Wraith had done to John.
Ronon tensed beneath him, and Ford smelt Ronon's blood-scent flare – ford's knife at his neck having dug too deep – Ronon's blood pooling against the edge of the blade.
Ford knew Ronon had gotten scraped up in the crash; it hadn't been enough to let Ford know his emotions, for, Ford knew - Ronon didn't know that the Wraith could tell emotions and reactions of their victims with their blood flowing freely from their bodies.
He knew Ronon was worried for John – and felt Ford a mere pesky obstacle. It was something that made Ford furious with him – yet, proud, that John had chosen such a loyal friend. If one who didn't know what Ford was capable of.
"They injected him with something; can you smell what it is?" Then again, Ford thought as he looked upon the blank face of Ronon, John always had a way with people.
"A Wraith Queen's mating-season hormones." Ford told him shortly, Ronon tensed, his dark human eyes narrowing on Ford.
"Tempted?" Ronon asked him, threatening and curious all at once. Ford scented the air again, closing his eyes – breathing in John's scent, as just a human Aiden had liked Ford to a comrade – a brother in arms, someone Aden trusted with his life and friendship.
As a partial Wraith, he knew Ford to be much more to him then what his human side had recognized or realized.
Ford leaned down on Ronon, smelling John on him – they'd slept near enough to touch, and Ford shivered – becoming aware of his surroundings again - finding Ronon watching him at the corner of his eyes, and Ronon's neck muscles straining with the effort of not provoking Ford.
"Yes." Ford breathed out the answer upon Ronon's ear, and Ronon teeth flashed – a grin, a mockery of one.
"I'll kill you, Ford, before I let you lay a hand on him." Ronon told him shortly, and Ford laughed – wildly and without a care to what Ronon thought of him.
Ford got up off the Runner – who, despite Ford's Wraith instincts, was becoming something more then a Runner to him.
Ford watched Ronon's teeth clench when Ford licked his blood from the blade – it was a strange connection between Runner and Wraith they shared, for once in their history, Runners had been the Wraiths ally, and then – they had turned on the Wraith. But the ancient connection between the two was still there.
Once in a great while, a Runner's blood would surface among humans, and the Wraith rejoiced in the hunt – and, secretly, the connection.
If a Wraith took a Runners blood, he would know the Runners thoughts and could track him wherever the Runner did run. The connection, Ford had thought, would be weakened by Ford's human blood – he would find, with time, that that was not the case.
Both of them knew the connection they shared as Runner and Wraith, Ford saw to that when Ronon's blood – coppery and hot, went down his throat. Ford did not offer Ronon his hand when Ronon started to get up – and the Runner, he knew, did not want it.
"I'm counting on it, Ronon. C'mon, let's go get ourselves a John Sheppard." Ford told him when Ronon stood – facing him on equal, if slighted, footing.
The Runner nodded, and Ford watched – half bemused, and half annoyed, as Ronon moved out - proving that between the two, the Wraith still did not know everything about tracking.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
In the dark of the night John's thoughts were drawn back to the dream – heat pulled at him, drowning him in sensations and thoughts he had never had before in such force. Or, at least, if he had them, they had been when he was a teenager and were half-forgotten at best.
John swallowed, and it seemed to him that the more resisted the pull of lust, the worst it became. Faced with it – John reacted to it like he would to any danger or anomaly, flight – running from this place and hoping whatever this was left him, or fighting it – and risk making it worse.
John ran.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
When he stopped running – and he mind caught up to him, he found himself baffled at his own actions. He would have turned back – would have gone to the Hive-cell and, a shiver of need – lust, went through him, he shook at its intensity.
John's hands came up, and he looked down at them – almost surprised to see that under the light of the moon, they weren't milky-blue. What's wrong with me? John thought, settling himself against a tree.
Trying to think, but finding himself jumping at shadows – the need to defend him self and prove himself worthy of something (John couldn't put a name to it – but he half didn't want to). John closed his eyes – and found himself, again, drifting off to sleep.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
He was running again, his feet pounding into the soft earth. His heart was beating franticly against his chest – like a caged bird, desperate to get away – or to find – something.
Finally, he could not run anymore, and let himself be found. Shadows emerged, silver haired and black eyed. They were surrounding him, their scents showing their health – their desire, their right to breed.
It was then they seemed to realize that he was not alone with them – seeing the others, the males – proud, blue and violet skinned, sweaty after the run, attacked each other. They had no weapons but for teeth and claws, and it seemed not to matter to them if they gorged out eyes, clawed off half a face or made blood as thick as honey spill from maybe-fatal wounds.
His blood pounded harder, watching them fight over him, nude under the moonlight, he gasped – moaning with the heat and lust pouring over him, need making him arch his back, and the fighting, the fighters sensing his lust, peeked to a blood bath.
He watched as they tore themselves apart for the right to mate – to reproduce.
When the victor emerged – and there always was one, for very rarely did one allow another to mate at the same time as the other, he knew they would take him, and fill him with them, to be honored by breeding him, for this moment – this night, of lust and carnage was theirs.
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
John gasped awake, panting for breath, blood and lust rushing through him. He knew – or hoped, the person in his dream hadn't been him. Perhaps, it had been an imagined Wraith Queen and some of her horde of men.
Then how did I get those feelings? John questioned that hope, and it vanished, replaced by fear. John knew that Ronon was on this planet. If Ronon found him, John didn't know if he could control this rather mixed alien-and-human want.
Twisted in his stomach were the hopes that he would be found – and yet, afraid to be. John found himself unable to choose which he wanted more.