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THE TIES THAT BIND

CHAPTER 8

It was getting late and there was work to be done, but Brantum Forant waited patiently out of sight until he heard John moaning softy in his sleep.

Even in the darkened room he could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, but waited for a few minutes more before withdrawing the syringe nestling in his pocket, and sliding the needle swiftly into the crook of his arm. He stiffened as John flinched, then turned on his side, but relaxed when the sleeping man didn't awake. Brantum knew the sedative would knock him out for hours, but also hoped the additional compound he'd added would help his stubborn grandson regain his strength.

Gently, he pulled the cover over the exposed shoulders, and suppressed a notion to ruffle the tousled head. The hair almost as defiant as the man himself, who had eaten little and said less since he'd arrived nearly a week ago, refusing all his offers to give him something to build up his strength. In the beginning he hadn't wanted to force the issue, hoping the long leisurely days in the sun would aid his recovery. Instead John seemed to be getting weaker every day, and the deepening dark circles under his eyes, were visible, even under the light golden tan. Brantum was worried, and wasn't prepared to wait any longer, so it was time for an intervention whether John liked it or not.

Brantum had expected John's anger at being abducted not only from his home, but also his time. Still, he was trying to be tolerant, and give him a chance to come to terms with his situation. John's continued resentment was becoming tiresome though, and now it was starting to dawn on him how naïve he'd been to expect more interaction between them. His grandson, just like a petulant child, had scarcely acknowledged his presence. Please and thank you, barely the only words to leave his lips, as John avoided him like the plague and had only grudgingly shared the same space during his enforced mealtimes.

John's resistance was determined and unyielding. His refusal to don the clothes he'd been given particularly pointed by choosing instead to launder his own. His only reluctant concession, the trunks he wore to the beach. It was obvious he was embarrassed by the brief black Speedos that clung to his form like a second skin. His love for the ocean had won out though, and Brantum felt a pang of pride when he saw the admiration that the taut, defined muscles attracted, as John waded, glistening with water, out of the sea.

Brantum had enjoyed the company of many beauties over the years, and still did. However, unlike him, his grandson was a modest man, who seemed to be unaware of the effect he had on the female sex. He was amused at the increase of beautiful beachcombers who had started passing, John's handsome features and toned body attracting a lot of attention, despite being a little too thin. The man himself though was oblivious to his new entourage, as he sat on the sand staring out into the horizon.

He was aware it would have been easier to use force to make John more compliant, but Brantum wanted a willing partner by his side. It would also have been less problematic to choose a different John, from an earlier time, but it was the military leader of Atlantis who was essential to his plans. Brantum needed that man, the person whose trials, tribulations and worldly experience made him who he was. In short, it was the irascible, obstinate but ultimately admirable Lt Colonel John Sheppard who he sought to come on board with what he was hoping to achieve.

Brantum nodded to Janus as he walked past, knowing he was leaving his precious cargo in good hands. He knew John wouldn't stir until well into the morning, and hoped the deep sleep would aid his recovery, but the heavy sedation would serve a dual purpose, as it would also keep him unaware of his absence until he'd returned from the lab.

Despite John's reluctance to converse, his project was one subject he didn't want to discuss until he was ready, so for the moment it was better to keep his absences secret until the time was right. Brantum did feel an unaccustomed pang of remorse at the unhappiness he'd caused his offspring. Not usually a sentimental man, he liked John, and was fond of him even, so he decided to make a couple of detours after he'd finished work.

It was getting colder, and the welcome sea breeze which had relieved the heat during the day was now making him shiver as the temperature swiftly dropped. He pulled his jacket close against his body, trying to get some warmth, his aching joints reminding him of his advancing years. After he'd left Atlantis, the serum he'd made from John's blood had strengthened his body, but regrettably had only trimmed a few years from his appearance. It had been better than nothing though, and while he was aware he couldn't compete with his handsome off spring, Brantum still considered himself to be a fine looking man.

At the end of garden he stopped, took a sharp left into a small coppiced wood, and listened for possible intruders before removing the cloak. The gate ship sprang into life at his presence, and as he assumed the controls, he felt the familiar thrill as the power thrummed under his fingertips. About to set his destination, Brantum stopped. The lab could wait for a little longer, but John couldn't, so some shopping was required before anything else. He set the date and time, and within minutes he arrived just off Saville Row. No one paid any attention to the distinguished man who stepped out of the Mini, and he smiled at his own genius that had developed the technology which allowed this kind of deception. Brantum loved London, especially in the spring and looked forward to the pleasurable task ahead. It had been a while since he'd bought a new suit, too long, and although he preferred to have his tailoring bespoke, in this instance, off the rack would have to do. In any case, he didn't expect John would mind.

ooooOoooo

There were no leads, no clues as to who had taken Sheppard, and Richard was struggling to know where to go from here.

He was frustrated sitting on the sidelines while General Landry ran the investigation from the SGC, but given that the abduction had taken place on Earth, he didn't have a choice. Richard was reassured however, that despite Landry's personal opinion of his Military CO, the man was pulling out all the stops. Yet despite all the resources of Stargate Command, and the best forensic team on Earth working around the clock, he was saddened to learn no further evidence had been obtained.

From the latest Intel he'd received it was clear they were no further forward despite the wrecked car having being completely taken apart. Richard wasn't surprised to learn that the vehicle had of course, been stolen, but did wonder why the identity checks carried out on all recent visitors hadn't produced any suspects. He was puzzled, as surely some one on the Island was responsible, or at least knew something, but even their insider within the Trust hadn't been aware of any abduction plans. One thing was certain, John Sheppard wasn't on the Island now. There was no trace of his subcutaneous transmitter, but as there was no body either, this at least gave him some hope John was still alive.

"Doctor McKay's IDC – Raise the shield."

At the sound of Chuck's voice, Richard hurried to the balcony just in time to see the arrival of the brilliant scientist, quickly followed by Teyla Emmagan as they appeared through the glimmering blue event horizon. McKay's expression was grim as he looked up and caught his gaze, and without a word being said, both personnel quickly made their way up to join him in his office.

Richard couldn't help but notice that McKay slumped rather than sat on the chair, his dejection mirrored by his team mate Teyla, who was uncharacteristically tense, and her normally serene expression, bereft.

"What have you to report, Doctor?" He asked, as he lounged back on the chair, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk.

The question hung in the air for a few moments, then Rodney dragged his eyes off the floor, appearing surprised to find Richard and Teyla staring at him. "What? Oh, sorry - I must have zoned out for a minute."

"There's no hurry, Doctor. I know this has been a very difficult time for all of you." Richard responded, trying to reassure, as it appeared the man was completely exhausted.

"Yes…well…as I'm sure General Landry told you we haven't been able to find any leads. We checked the list Dave gave us, and most of the people on it didn't even know he had a brother," Rodney looked sad, "in any case, everyone on it had solid alibis. Money doesn't appear to have been a motive either, as there haven't been any ransom demands and I reckon if that was going to happen, we would have received one by now." Rodney paused, his face wearing a wry humorless smile. "Even the list we compiled of Sheppard's enemies didn't produce any suspects. Of course we could hardly interview Colonel Caldwell, could we?"

"Rodney -" Teyla shook her head, giving him a reproachful look, "I know the Colonel may not be fond of John, but you can't deny he has been most helpful." She pointed out.

Rodney expression turned cynical. "Sure, he took the Daedalus for a spin around the globe – big deal."

Richard perked up, "Did he find any trace of the Colonel?"

"Hello - didn't I just say there were no leads?" Rodney blurted out, then his face went scarlet. "I'm sorry… you were right before, it has been a rough few days. But in answer to your question – no, Caldwell wasn't able to detect Sheppard's transmitter. Therefore either it's been damaged, or the bad guys have removed it."

"I see." And Richard did. He was already struggling to quell the despondent air pervading Atlantis, and now his job was going to be much more difficult. With no good news to convey, moral would plummet further, as the base personnel were already upset and confused, as to why someone on Earth would want to abduct their well liked military commander.

With all other options explored, Richard really didn't want to believe the only other possibility left. "Could it have been an inside job?"

Teyla and Rodney looked at each other, but their lack of shock told him they were wondering the same thing. "I've already asked Radek to start checking all transmissions both in and out the base for the last six months." Rodney responded. "In fact, Mr Woolsey, if we're done here, I'd like to go and help him."

"Certainly, Doctor McKay, and please keep me updated." Richard answered, then stalled the two team mates as they went to leave. "When are Ronon and Doctor Beckett returning?"

Teyla answered this time. "Ronon is returning later this morning, and Doctor Beckett," Teyla's face fell, "is staying a little longer to give Dave Sheppard some moral support, but…"

"The truth is, Mr Woolsey, that the idiot feels responsible for Sheppard's abduction." Rodney interrupted, his worry clearly evident through his irritable tone.

"But why?" Richard asked, puzzled. "I read the medical report, and Doctor Beckett was right. If Colonel Sheppard had stayed on base, he would have soon found out about the Trojan and would have become involved, off duty or not."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You know that, and so do I. We all do, even Beckett if he was thinking straight. Right now though, he just wants to beat himself up as he thinks it was him who sent Sheppard into the arms of his abductor."

Richard sighed, and rubbed his hand over his forehead in a vain attempt to rid himself of the headache which had started that morning. "Leave it with me, Doctor McKay, Teyla. If he's not back soon, I'll have him recalled so that we can have a little chat."

Rodney nodded, and Teyla gave him a tired smile before leaving him alone to try and absorb everything he'd just learned. It was a hellish situation, with seemingly no end in sight, but one thing he did know, none of it was Beckett's fault. As a diplomat Richard was aware that someone always wanted to apportion blame, and he prayed the culprits would be found soon, but it was an inescapable fact that in John Sheppard's case the man just seemed to attract trouble where ever he went.

ooooOoooo

His body was shaking, burning up – he couldn't breathe.

John felt himself swelling up, his lips tingling and his skin getting tighter with every second. He was in trouble, and threw out a trembling hand for his radio, but collided with a glass instead. At the resulting crash as it splintered on the floor, his eyes flew open and with a sinking heart remembered where he was.

He soon realised that he couldn't speak either, only a low gurgling sound coming from his voice as he tried to call for help. His throat was aching, but worse, it was closing up, leaving him struggling for air, gasping for each laboured breath. John remembered having watched McKay in a similar fix many times before, and after the way Rodney had described it, he was pretty sure he was suffering from anaphylactic shock. What the hell had caused it, he didn't have a clue. The pills Carson had given him, were missing along with his suitcase, so he'd hadn't taken any meds for days. Right now though it didn't matter, nothing did, as John knew if he didn't get help soon, it would be irrelevant where he was, or what year – he would soon be dead.

Black spots were dancing in front of his vision, and his muscles felt like lead, but with a massive effort, John threw himself on the floor. He could see the door straight ahead, it was tantalisingly close, but as he tried to crawl his feeble arms wouldn't support his weight, and he fell flat on his face. Sprawled on the ground, all he could do was lie there, as his useless limbs soon became numb and he couldn't move. Tears of frustration, regret and self pity trickled down his face as reality sunk in. He was going to die there, a pointless death, far from his home, without even having the comfort of friends by his side – it wasn't fair.

The door flung open, and John was startled by the blinding light, as Janus rushed to his side. It seemed like forever, as the man just knelt there, shouting at him, searching his face for answers John wasn't able to give. He could tell Janus was panicking, and by the indecision written on his face, John knew he didn't have a clue what to do.

John was fighting for his life, struggling for every shallow breath, but through a void was dimly aware as Janus scrambled to his feet and ran to the window. Even to his foggy brain, it was clear he was searching for Forant, because John knew if his grandfather was around, he would have been there by now. It was one of life's contradictions and John hated to admit it, but he needed him, they both did. But as the light dimmed, nothing mattered as the darkness closed in...

ooooOoooo

TBC

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please let me know what you thought. Your feedback is very important to me, as I like to know the sort of story, that you the reader enjoys, but in addition, it's your support that gives me the encouragement I need to keep writing.

I know that this weekend is a holiday for many of us, but regardless of what faith you follow, I hope you have a healthy, happy weekend with your loved ones - Joanie

P.S. The next post will be on Monday.