Many thanks again for the reviews, I really appreciate the feedback. Thanks also to those still sticking with the story.

Well, John wasn't doing too well the last time we saw him, so on with the story...

THE TIES THAT BIND

CHAPTER 15

Time travel had lost its appeal long ago, and now Brantum wanted home, back to the place of his birth, Atlantis.

The memory of his parents was fleeting at best, but he would never forget the manner of their death, or the dried out corpses left behind. He vowed then to obliterate the Wraith, whatever it took, but was frustrated by the ineffectual council who had called a halt to his research. They refused to understand it was necessary for human experimentation to develop the serum. Immoral they'd called it. Sheppard too had voiced his disgust in no uncertain terms the last time they'd met. But Brantum felt triumphant, as despite the setbacks and the long years of hard work, he'd finally done it.

Brantum regretted the lives lost in the process, but he believed they were casualties of war, and their sacrifice would not be forgotten. Thanks to those good people, he had finally managed to find a way to wipe out the Wraith menace for good. Thousands had died during his experiments, but millions, perhaps billions would live thanks to his research. Brantum still needed John's help though. With his co-operation, it would be much easier putting his plan into place, if not, he would have no option but to use the less palatable, 'Plan B'.

Although how he was going to get John's support now, was problematic at best. Brantum knew he possessed a temper, and despised himself for the weakness, but drunk, it was ten times worse. He had lost control, and while his grandson did deserve a lesson in humility, he'd gone too far. The outside of John's bracelet shone in the light, but the inside revealed a different story. Two sides of the tale, one bright, full of wonder, a marvel of science. The other, dark, its beauty obscured with dried, burned flesh. Brantum realised with dismay that the bracelet was a representation of himself. Too many years of following his obsession, had turned him into an arrogant, ruthless egocentric that would do anything to obtain his goal. His dark side had caused this, but Brantum was more disgusted by what he'd become, than the damage his actions had caused.

Yet, there was no turning back now, not when he was so close. There was still work to be done, but he would give his grandson one more chance to come on board. The boy had after all, provided the final piece of his plan, so he owed him that much. Still, he would have to incur John's wrath one more time, as he couldn't allow the stubborn young man to become ill once again.

ooooOoooo

Brantum didn't know what he expected, but when he entered the dimmed room he was shocked to find John drenched in sweat, his face contorted, gasping for breath and his lips blue. He rushed over to the bed, ignored John's feeble attempts to push him away, and was alarmed to find his pulse racing.

"Leave…me…alone." John spat out, barely able to speak, but his feet did the talking as Brantum caught a blow to the thigh which made him stagger, nearly landing him on the floor.

He pushed his anger aside, along with the pain radiating through the limb, as he sat on John's legs to restrain him, then grabbed both his arms. Brantum didn't mean to hurt him, but he elicited a groan when he accidently touched the bound wrist. After what he'd done, Brantum accepted John's reaction was perfectly natural, but regardless of how his grandson felt about him, he knew he must act quickly or the boy would die.

Brantum caught John's angry gaze, and held it, "You may as well calm down, John. I'm not leaving." He spoke the words slowly and succinctly, but the young man continued to struggle, though he noticed John was getting weaker with every shallow breath. "I need you to cough, John. You're in tachycardia - do you understand? The shock you received gave your heart a jolt and now it's beating much too fast. I need to get it back to it's normal sinus rhythm." Brantum explained, and to his relief John's glazed eyes lost their fire, as he stopped resisting and tried to cough.

"Good, man." Brantum encouraged, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Again, John. Please – you must try."

He could tell John was doing his best, but the man was now too weak to give the action the force needed, immediate intervention was required.

"Janus!" He called out and thanked the stars for the clone's advanced auditory system, when Janus suddenly appeared in the room.

"What can I do, father?" Brantum ignored the term for once, only too relieved to get help.

"I need icepacks, an IV and bring the defibrillator. In fact," Brantum instantly changed his mind, as he watched John's eyes flutter shut, "just take him to the surgery."

Janus lifted the prone man just like he were a child, and with as little effort. Within minutes John was lying on the examination bed, hooked up to oxygen and an IV, his vitals being monitored by machines.

"Is he going to be alright?" Janus asked, and to his credit Brantum saw him look concerned. "I hope so. Now bring me those ice packs would you?"

Brantum took them then placed them around John's face. "Okay, that's all we can do for now – except wait."

He kept one of the packs for himself, sat down on the nearby chair, and placed it on the stinging pain radiating from his leg. Brantum knew he could obliterate his own pain in an instant without even leaving any trace of a bruise behind, but felt he deserved to suffer, just a little, for his stupidity in nearly taking his grandson's life.

John was important to his plans, but he had been naïve to think it would take a few trinkets and some persuasive words, to tame a force of nature like him. Besides, he didn't want to. It was that very quality that was important to him. John's strength of character, more than the physical was what he needed to encapsulate. Janus was his magnificent creation. He was stronger than any human, intelligent, resourceful, but the clone lacked understanding of the human condition, and the experiences of what made a man the person he was. John Sheppard was the perfect role model, and he needed to know what made him tick. Time though was a factor here, and for once his fine machine wouldn't be able to help. The conclusion to his life's work was imminent, and all of the plans he'd made were now in place. It was now only John that was left to play his part, and Brantum would make sure he would, whether the stubborn young man wanted to - or not.

ooooOoooo

The cool mist had barely lifted even though it was now mid-morning, and John shivered, freezing, hidden within the cover of the cloak. He glanced down with disgust at the bracelet now molded to his right wrist, it had been replaced while he'd slept, despite the fact Forant knew he never wanted to wear the freaking thing again. However, he acknowledged that without it, he wouldn't be here now, experiencing the rush as he watched Orville Wright take to the air for the very first time.

Over the years he had flown just about every craft known to man, and even a couple that weren't. Yet as a pilot, he would have given anything to be where Orville was right now. The simple biplane didn't look much, and he knew its gasoline engine was nowhere near as powerful as a 302. It was however the first manned flight, and John wished he could tell the brothers just where their invention would lead.

For twelve awesome seconds, the muslin covered wings carried the wooden craft for one hundred and twenty feet. It was the coolest thing he'd ever seen, history come to life before his eyes, and even with Forant standing by his side, he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"There's nothing quite like watching history in the making, is there John?" Forant whispered in his ear, and John nodded with reluctance. "Maybe one day we'll take another little trip, but for the moment, I think it's time we started making some history of our own."

John's smile faded as a chill gripped his heart - it was over. Not just the very first maiden flight, but also the brief sojourn he'd been granted since waking up to find the Ancient sitting by his bed. A touch on his arm made him turn round, and he saw Forant smiling, motioning to go inside. John felt warmer out of the cool December morning, but the jumper felt bleak and unforgiving. He was back in his prison heading once again into the unknown, but at least he caught one last glimpse of the Wright Flyer before they left 1903 behind.

"Are you alright, John?" Forant asked, without looking round.

"Fine…" And he was, at least physically. In truth, he was freaked out by the whole weird experience. Today had been good, he wouldn't deny that, but sci-fi, space travel, they were McKay's bag, not his. John just wanted to get home, and off the rollercoaster he'd been on ever since Forant came into his life.

Forant had been there when he'd awoken, attentive, but not apologetic for what he had done. The same man who'd hurt him, then also proceeded to care for him, and now the only physical reminder was a band of perfect new pink skin around his left wrist.

Since his recovery, Forant had been the perfect host doing everything in his power to win him round, including embarking on a 'road trip' like no other. John had marveled as he'd watched the dinosaurs roam only yards from the jumper, the Earth vibrating below his feet under their mighty weight. The arrival of the Mayflower, and the signing of the Declaration of Independence, had also been stops on his tour, Abe Lincoln just standing a hair's breath away. He'd even watched Muhammad Ali win his first heavy weight title. All Forant's choice, but mind-blowing none the less. But this trip had hit the mark, as the faded pictures of the first flight had inspired him to take up the career which set the course of his life. A smart move from the Ancient he had to admit, although Forant was no fool, but then neither was he.

Forant could play nice for as long as he wanted, but as far as John was concerned, the gloves were off. The Ancient's words came back to him "But for the moment, I think it's time we started making some history of our own." and John knew the reason for his abduction would soon be made clear. He had a role to play, that was no secret, but the what, the why, and the where, were still to be revealed.

John wondered about Janus, and how he fitted in. He didn't buy the sob story that the clone was created to keep the Ancient company, besides, the old guy was so vain, he only need look in a mirror to make himself happy.

Whatever was on the cards, one thing was for sure, John was pretty certain he wasn't going to like it…

ooooOoooo

Forant left the flight deck, and stopped in front of John just as he was about to unbuckle his belt. He was smiling. "I'd like you to dress for dinner, John, and wear the new suit I bought you." Forant instructed in an abstract manner. "This will be our last day in the gate ship for a while and I feel like celebrating, because later tonight we arrive at my lab, then it's down to work."

John's brief sense of relief at knowing Forant's game plan would soon be revealed soon vanished, to be replaced with apprehension. "Can't wait…" He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and his lips twisted into a humorless smile. John knew Forant had saw it, but it was obvious the old guy was choosing to ignore it, as his expression didn't change. "So, when are you going to reveal my part in your grand plan?"

"My, my, we are keen," Forant gave a low chuckle, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, "however, our discussion can wait a little longer. I'm a creature of habit, John. Dinner first, then we'll get down to business. In the meantime, collect everything you want to take with you, then get yourself ready – Janus doesn't like his chateaubriand getting spoiled."

Time was relative in the crazy world John was living in. Only five hours before, he'd been standing, freezing his butt off at ten thirty-five hundred hours, in Kitty hawk, North Carolina. Now he was dressed in finest Armani, trying to choke down a fancy steak. The wine was good though, but he couldn't afford the luxury of getting drunk, as John had a feeling he was going to need a clear head.

Brantum finished chewing, and pointed at the suit. "I knew Armani would suit you. My regular tailor is fine for the older gentlemen and corporate types, but not you. I guessed the Italian designer would be more your style."

"Thanks." John said it because it was expected, that, and he didn't want to rile Forant too soon. Yet regardless of what lay ahead, he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Now we've finished eating, would you like to explain where I fit into your plans?"

The Ancient drew him a veiled look, and threw his napkin down on the table. "Very well, we should be nearly at our destination soon anyway."

"This thing has automatic pilot?" John asked, amazed.

"Of course! All gate ships have them. Just because it also happens to travel through time, makes little difference." Forant responded, looking slightly bemused he would ask such a question. John saw the Ancient check his bracelet, and noticed for the first time the multitude of buttons dotted around the device, but tore his eyes away when Forant looked up and gave Janus a nod. "One last drink before we go – John, a single malt for you?"

The question was rhetorical, as John was handed the glass of amber liquid. Forant then lent back against the chair and folded his arms. "Where to begin…Well it all started with you I suppose, or should I say the craft which came from your Atlantis and crashed in my time line." Forant said, and went on to explain. "We were getting ready to evacuate the city and both Janus – the man you met - and I, realised with your appearance came a chance for Atlantis to rise again. Up till then, I had no interest in his research, but upon finding you in the wreckage a plan came to mind." The Ancient took a moment to drain his glass before he continued. "Anyway, Janus was the altruistic one, and it soon became clear he held a torch for your Doctor Weir. I'm also aware you know it was mainly thanks to him, that Atlantis survived after the second time you arrived. However, what you don't know is Janus gave me his craft not just to preserve his research, but also to help me give our people a second chance of life."

The room was feeling uncomfortably warm, and John loosened his tie. "What do you mean?"

"Janus was aware that part of my research involved creating a viable clone. A being that would live a full life without the need for drugs to sustain it…"

"Your Janus -" John interrupted, and glanced over at the man in question whose expression remained unfazed, despite being the topic of conversation.

"Very good, John, but you knew that already." Forant replied in a dismissive, slightly mocking tone. "Janus, however, is only the prototype for what I have planned. The vials you kindly obtained for me contain samples of DNA from every Ancient who lived on Atlantis, and I intend to repopulate the city with the people who truly belong there. More than that, my clones will be improved versions of the originals. Stronger, more intelligent, and best yet, they will be Pegasus' new deterrent against the Wraith."

John was feeling real tired, but perked up at the mention of Atlantis. "What about my people? And if you only wanted to use me as a delivery boy, then why am I still here?"

Forant accepted a refill from Janus, and took a sip from his glass. "They won't be harmed, John, I promise. The more intelligent amongst them like your friend Doctor McKay, will be allowed to remain if they wish. As for the others, they will be returned to Earth. Your role, John, is to be by my side. I want my grandson to lead the greatest army the galaxy has ever seen."

"You're delusional, Forant if you think I'd buy into that. I already lead a damned fine group of people!" John's brain was getting fuzzy, but he suddenly remembered something else Forant had said. "Anyway, what the hell is this deterrent?"

There were two Forant's now, floating in and out of his vision, and John realised he'd been drugged, but struggled to stay focused on both men as they spoke. "The transfusion you gave me apart from containing Ancient DNA, also had another unusual marker in it – Wraith. There was only a trace element, barely visible, except of course to my equipment, and much less than your friend Ms Emmagan, but it was all I needed to complete the serum I'd been working on. Your unique blood, was the key to providing all of the clones with something extra. Thanks to you, John, they will not only have an inbuilt defence, but they will also be the means of destroying the Wraith." John realised he must have looked puzzled, as Forant elaborated. "How it works is simple. If a Wraith feeds on one of our clones, instead of taking the life force from them, theirs instead is absorbed into the very being whose life they intended to take. To be precise, our army will become stronger, and more powerful after each feeding – ingenious, isn't it?"

"The…the Hoffan's…tried something…similar. It…ended…in…tragedy." John stammered, slurring his words.

The old man nodded, then rose from the table and came towards him. "I'm aware of their research but it was flawed, and completely different from what I have planned. With the expertise of the new Atlantians, more sophisticated weaponry can be built, and along with troops armed with your skills, we will seek out and destroy the Wraith for good. Surely you must agree that's what we all want?"

Forant grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes. "You know you've been drugged, John. It was necessary to keep you docile, as I anticipated your initial reaction would be to refuse." Then he continued. "Nevertheless, I would still rather have you with me, so if you agree to co-operate willingly, I promise never to do anything like this again. Well? What's your final answer?"

Beads of sweat were blinding him, and his limbs felt heavy, sluggish and uncoordinated. Yet he still wanted to give a warning to the arrogant man. "Power...is… ad…addictive - It…it…co…rupts. Wha…what happens…when…u…succeed? Who's…next?"

Forant pushed back on his heels, and looked at him with a mixture of anger and remorse. "I'll take that as a no then," he said with a trace of regret, then turned to Janus. "Take him, and prepare him for the first part of the procedure." As the Ancient went to leave, he stopped and turned round to glance at John once more. "I'm sorry you won't co-operate with me, John, but you will help me - I'll just have to take what I need the hard way."

John couldn't resist when he felt the strong arms of Janus lift him, and throw him roughly over his shoulder. He knew he was in big trouble, but didn't regret the choice he'd made, although John realised he should be probably be more scared. Right now though, he was just too damn tired…

ooooOoooo

TBC

Now we know Forant's plan, but what does he have in store for John? Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review.