THE TIES THAT BIND
CHAPTER 21
"Again! If I'd been a Wraith, you'd be dead, marine." Ronon's face was scarlet with rage, as he yelled at the blond-haired young man who was lying, panting, on the mat.
"Would you mind if I interrupted, Corporal Millar? I'd like to have a workout with my team mate." Teyla had been watching by the doorway, but now entered the training room. The Athosian suppressed a smile at the relief flooding the young soldiers flushed features.
"No problem, ma'am." The young man gasped, and fell over as he scrambled to his feet. He gave her a grateful nod as he winced, staggering out the room.
Teyla stood with her bantos sticks twirling in her hands in a graceful, rhythmic motion. "Shame on you, Ronon, for taking your frustration out on that young man." She gave her friend a gentle rebuke. "Rodney, Dave and I were waiting for you in the observation room. You do know that John is going through his operation?"
Ronon was glistening with sweat, and looked tense, feral. "Yeah, I knew. I'm not good at waiting. Besides, what good will sitting around watching his brain get cut open do? I should have been there when he needed me."
The sticks went silent, and her eyes filled with remorse. "I haven't forgotten either, Ronon, but there is no good to be had in regret – here." Teyla threw him one of the sticks, "if you must take your aggression out on someone, let it be me."
Teyla watched Ronon eye her with suspicion but when she threw the first blow, he defended as she knew he would. It had been a long time since she'd worked out with the sticks, perhaps too long, yet the familiar rhythm soon returned. It felt liberating working her muscles until they ached, releasing the pent up anger she too had been feeling since they found John near death in the caves. She had failed him, yet what was to be done now? Live or die, Teyla knew John wouldn't want either her or Ronon to waste their lives. To honour their friend they mustn't give up hope, but if the worst happened, they needed to continue their fight against the Wraith, and Teyla wanted Ronon to see that too.
As the bout continued, she was pleased to see her skill matched Ronon's strength, making them equal opponents. Best of all, she could see a glint appear and the first smile from the big Satedan in weeks. Her body was wet with perspiration, and loose strands of moist hair stuck to her face. Teyla was tired, but despite her exhaustion she felt more alive than she'd been in a long time. It wasn't that she didn't love Kanaan, or her precious son, but she was more than a partner, more than a mother, she was also a warrior, and this felt so good…
"Ahem…If you two are quite finished beating the crap out of each other, I thought you might want to know how Sheppard was." The two warriors, stopped dead, and turned to see an irritated looking Rodney standing at the door.
The sound of wood hitting the floor reverberated around the room, and Rodney grimaced at the noise. He waited until the echo stopped before he spoke. "Carson said the surgery went well without any complications. Of course he can't be sure until John comes round, but Carson doesn't seem to think he's sustained any permanent damage from the procedure."
Teyla smiled and she noticed Ronon visibly relax. "Anyway," Rodney said, "I thought maybe we could go for a coffee or something while they settle him back in the ward."
"Sounds good." Ronon used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat off his face. "Think I'll hit the shower first – I'll meet you in ten."
The Satedan picked up his stick, handed it to Teyla and grinned. "Good workout." He then nodded to Rodney and walked away.
When he'd left, Teyla turned to the scientist. "I'm sorry, Rodney, for leaving you and Dave alone."
Rodney handed her a towel. "Don't worry about it, Dave and I were okay, but Ronon has been beating himself up for a long time. Sorry, bad pun." He grimaced at his own joke. "He thinks he let me down, then Sheppard, but that's garbage. I've tried to tell him bad things happen in life sometimes, and not even a tough guy like him can stop it, but with the big guy words don't always mean much. I think you got through to him today though, so thanks." Rodney was about to leave, then he turned, tilted his head, and gave her a searching look. "You're a pretty smart woman, Teyla. Not as clever as me, of course, but definitely not too shabby." He said with a glint in his eyes.
Teyla's lips twitched, as she tried and failed to keep her face straight. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Rodney, but we are a good team. Aren't we?"
"Yes we are" Rodney said with a smug smile, that suddenly faded, "or we will be once Sheppard's okay."
ooooOoooo
There was a dull ache over all his body and his head hurt like a bitch, but John didn't care, he'd made it back alive. It was a surprise given he'd expected to wake up dead, but it was pretty obvious the powers that be had decided to spare his sorry ass again, why? He hadn't a freaking clue.
Survival came with a price, as the dull aches started to sharpen up, and now his skull felt like it was going to explode. "Mmmnaggh…"
John knew that didn't sound like "Hi, I'm awake, can I get more happy juice please?" but it did the trick as he felt a firm warm hand grab his wrist, along with it's owner's familiar lilting Scottish brogue.
"Easy, Colonel. Wait until I get you some ice chips before you try and speak. It's been a wee while since you've used your voice, son." Carson spoke softly, then John felt the ice-cold wonders popped into his mouth. They felt like heaven to his rough, dry throat.
"Thanx, Car…un." John choked out the works, surprised at how thin and weak he sounded.
"It's good to hear you, Colonel, so how about opening your eyes for me now?" Carson asked. John dreaded facing the bright lights of the infirmary, but he obeyed, only to find his vision was blurred. He felt himself start to panic.
"What's wrong, Colonel, can't you see me?" Carson sounded concerned.
John licked his lips to try and get some moisture before he spoke. " Fuzzy."
The three Scotsmen by his bed, seemed to relax and nodded in unison. "Aye, I expected that." Then he explained. "I had to do a wee bit of brain surgery to take out those bloody sensors. The operation went well, but I was messing with your head, Colonel, so I expect there to be some residual effects."
Carson's comments didn't reassure him, because as a pilot his eyesight meant everything to him. If he couldn't fly again...John felt himself start to tense up, and the soft back ground beeps started to get louder.
"Calm down, Colonel, I know what you're thinking, but your sight should get back to normal in a few days." The Scot informed him, but also gave him a warning, "in the meantime there could be other side effects too – you might find your voice a little slurred for a while, and your taste buds won't be up to par for a few days either. Still, that might be no bad thing, as you'll only be able to eat broth to start with." The trio all smiled at their bad joke, and while John was relieved, he was too sore and miserable to smile back.
"I know you're hurting, John, but bear with me for a few minutes, as I need to check your responses first." Carson then took each hand in turn and pressed each finger. John felt them all. Then the doctor went through the same process with his feet. His right side was fine, but his left leg felt a bit strange.
"Wha?" John stammered.
Carson gave his arm a pat, "It's fine, Colonel. Your left tib and fib is broken, so I would expect the reaction to feel slightly muted there." He informed him, and John let out a sigh of relief. The small movement made him moan, as a sharp pain pierced through his chest.
The doctor's expression was sympathetic as he took a loaded syringe from the tray on the bedside table. "Time for that top up now, and when you awake next time, you should feel a little better – promise."
Within minutes of the cool liquid seeping into his veins, he felt his pain start to ease. John knew he'd got lucky again, damn lucky. Yet, even as he started to relax he fought off sleep. Sleep brought with it memories, things he would rather forget. Nightmares which he'd pushed to the past now back to haunt him in full freaking Technicolor…
ooooOoooo
Beckett was as good as his word, as John's sight, speech and senses did eventually return to normal. A little longer than the few days he'd promised, but eventually John was only left with his physical condition to content with. Only though, was a subjective term, as even loaded with Carson's good drugs, he still ached from head to toe, and John grew depressed knowing yet another long, down time beckoned.
John was also struggling with what had happened to him. From as far back as he could remember, he'd always felt in control, master of his own destiny, until the day Forant abducted him. In the weeks that followed, Forant tried to take that from him, along with the world he knew, the people he cared for, and the life he'd worked so hard to achieve. The bastard had even tried to steal his memories from him. They weren't good ones to be sure, but they were his. Trials he'd endured, bad times that had helped make him the man he was, and the gut wrenching fact was, if he hadn't been rescued, John knew he would have probably ended up completely under Forant's control.
When Lorne told him the clones had been destroyed, he was relieved. John's only regret was he'd been so out of it, he'd missed the fireworks. He really hoped the explosion had taken out Forant too. Killed the Ancient who'd made his life a misery, and sent him to hell – 'cause that's what he'd done to him. John knew Forant had ultimately saved his life, but that would never make up for what he'd done. He wanted him dead, out of the family album, so dear old grandpa couldn't bother him again. At least that's what he hoped for, but the way his life worked, somehow John didn't think he could get that lucky.
"How do you feel like a wee trip outside?" Carson was standing by the bed, and John was so deep in thought he'd hadn't heard him approach.
"Wanting rid of me already?" John gave him a half smile. He knew Carson was surprised he hadn't tried any of his usually escape routines. The truth was he didn't want to leave the ward. John felt safe in the infirmary. It was always bustling with activity, with people around watching, taking care of him.
The Scot just drew him a look, and John could tell he was worried by his response. So he decided to distract him. "By the way, I met your Ancient." he said simply. "His name was Tomand, and he looked just like you. Of course he didn't have your accent, but he seemed like a nice guy. He asked me, or should I say Forant, if I wanted to join him for dinner." John's smile grew wide. "It seems you and I have always been destined to be friends, Carson."
Carson shook his head and smiled. "That must have been a strange experience for you, John." He sounded bemused, then his expression became serious. "But you had a lot of strange, unsettling and cruel things happen to you." Carson caught his gaze, but John looked away, trying to hide the raw inner pain which kept him awake, night after night.
Unfortunately, he realised Carson wasn't going to let it drop. "Look, John I'm not going to pretend to know what it must have been like. Kidnapped, tortured, removed from your time, and everyone you knew, must have been hellish. But as your friend, as well as your doctor, you need to offload to someone. I know how you feel about psychiatrists, but if not a shrink then what about Teyla, Rodney, Ronon or even me? " Carson muttered that last part, and John thought he sounded a little hurt. "There's also Dave?" The Scot suggested. "I know you try to protect him, but he's seen some of the horrors in your life now, so the cat's out the bag. And honestly, I know he could take it."
John could feel the heat rising in his face. He knew Beckett meant well, they all did, but he wasn't ready to talk, and didn't know if he ever would be. Right now, he just wanted to crawl back into his shell. "Do you mind if we left the trip for later, Carson? I'm feeling kinda tired now."
"I thought you said he'd be ready, Carson?" John heard a rumble, and glanced round sideways to see Rodney standing there with Ronon who was holding a wheelchair. The scientist was rubbing his wounded arm, looking at them both impatiently. John still felt guilty about what happened to his buddy, as it because of his connect to Forant, Rodney got shot.
Carson turned to the pair and shrugged. "The Colonel doesn't want to go - he'd rather have a nap."
"You can nap later, Sheppard – get in." Ronon grunted.
Normally John would have caved in, but today he just wasn't in the mood to go anywhere. "No thanks Ronon, maybe tomorrow."
"Aw come on, Sheppard! Teyla has arranged a picnic. She's waiting along with your brother. Remember him, nice guy, the man who risked his life to save you?" Rodney blurted out, rolling his eyes for added effect.
For a brief moment, John was angry at Rodney for using that incident of all things to land a guilt trip on him, then he realised it was just typical McKay snark. Rodney didn't mean anything by it, he really was feeling oversensitive. "Thanks, and I mean that, guys," he said, "but I never asked for any of this. And thank Teyla for me, tell her I'm sorry. Now please…I really am tired and sore."
Rodney seemed to deflate in front of his eyes, and Ronon shoved the chair away looking pissed. John couldn't bear to see them hurt, so he feigned sleep shutting them out. He kept that way for a few more minutes, until he heard the distinctive footsteps heading out the ward.
John felt drained, like a worthless heel and he really didn't know why he'd done that. What the hell was wrong with him? Then as if a cloud lifted from his weary brain, it slowly dawned on him. He'd done it for their own good. If he pushed them away now, it would be easier in the long run. They had to learn he was no leader, at least not any more. Forant's domination had showed him how weak and helpless he truly was. If he couldn't stop himself from being kidnapped and persecuted, then how could he protect others? So the sooner these good people shifted their allegiance to someone more worthy, the better.
ooooOoooo
Out on the balcony the sun was beginning to set but despite it growing cold, none of Sheppard's friends wanted to leave. The food lay untouched, only the beer had been consumed in larger quantities than usual, supplemented with some good single malt, that Carson just happened to have lying around. They felt hurt, angry, but more than that they felt helpless. John was the one who was really in pain, and none of them had been able to reach him. It wasn't a feeling that sat well with any of them, but for a genius like Rodney, it rankled more than most. He could tell his friend was on a downward spiral, they all could, and something had to be done, before they lost Sheppard once and for all.
"He didn't mean it…" Carson told them, his voice breaking the silence which had pervaded since they'd appeared on the balcony, sans one belligerent Lt Colonel.
"Should've made him come." Ronon mumbled, before grabbing another beer. Rodney was already feeling woozy, having had only a few and watched with something akin envy, as he didn't know where the big guy put it all.
Teyla pushed back from the railing where she had been staring out on the city. "Forcing him would only have made things worse, Ronon." She said in a soft but firm voice. "We all know John's not been himself since he came back, and needs help, but he needs to let us in on his own terms."
Carson nodded his head in agreement. "That's true, but the problem is, lass, I can't allow this continue much longer. If there's no progress soon, I'll have no choice but to send him for psychiatric treatment, Stateside."
Dave shuffled forward to help himself to more of Carson's whisky. "I never thought I would ever say this, guys, but I don't want John coming home. Not like that." He took a swallow and continued. "John loves this place, his work, all of you. There must be something we can do to remind him of that. To show him he belongs here."
Rodney scraped his chair back, and staggered uncertainly to his feet. "I've an idea - don't wait up."
ooooOoooo
His teeth rattled as the drill drove into his skull again and again, but he couldn't move. He was helpless, completely under Forant's control. Then when he saw Todd appear in the doorway, John knew he was going to repeat the horror and gut wrenching agony all over again…
John's head jerked up and he moaned softly. He was drenched in sweat and had set off the headache from hell once again. Not to mention waking up all the numerous aches in his body. The call button was by his hand, but he resisted the temptation to use it. Carson already suspected he had nightmares, so John didn't want to add fuel to the fire. So he lay silent while his heart beat slowed to a steady rhythm, and his hands stopped shaking, before reaching for a glass of water. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw him. Rodney was slumped in a chair next to his bed, snoring.
"McKay?" John called softly, as he didn't want to wake up the neighbours. When he moved closer, he could tell his friend had been drinking, Bud by the smell of it, and felt a little jealous. Then John realised he might have enjoyed one himself, if he hadn't been so stubborn. He waited for a moment, but when it was clear his subtle wake up call hadn't done the trick, he tried again by giving him a nudge on his good arm.
"Wha? Who?" Rodney blinked, then tried to rub his eyes with his bad arm. "Ow!"
John cringed in sympathy. "Easy there, buddy. Do you want a glass of water?" He asked, then quipped "I'd offer you something stronger, but I reckon you've already had enough."
Rodney's smile was strained, and John felt bad for accidently hurting him. He was relieved when a few moments later, the pained expression had gone, and his buddy seemed back to normal. "Oh, yeah - I see what you mean, and yes, some water would be good. My mouth feels like a rat crawled in and died in there."
He filled up the glass, annoyed to find he still had a touch of the post nightmare tremors, but McKay didn't seem to notice. John then waited until his friend drank his fill before he spoke.
"It's a bit late for visiting, Rodney. Why are you here?"
He watched, puzzled, as Rodney reached down and produced his chessboard.
John lay back and folded his arms. "I enjoy a game of chess as much as the next guy, Rodney, but don't you think it's a bit late to be starting a game?"
With only one fully working arm, Rodney was making slow work of laying down the pieces, and didn't look round from his task as he answered. "We're not - not starting that is. This is this game we were playing just before you left. We didn't finish it, remember?"
For a moment John went silent, as the memory came flooding back. He had taken his laptop on vacation as they were intending finishing the game via email, then of course, Forant arrived. "Yeah, well, even so, Rodney, can't this wait until tomorrow?"
"Nope, it can't." Rodney sat back and looked him straight in the eye. "It's your move, Sheppard."
John had no intention of playing, but when he saw his last move set out on the board, his face fell. He remembered scratching out that very move on Rodney's workbench in the old Atlantis, before returning to Forant's ship. He looked up to see Rodney smiling at him
"It was brilliant, John, but a risky thing to do, especially given the fact you didn't know it would still be there in the future for me to find." Rodney's voice was quiet, but John could hear the admiration and wondered why.
"I'm glad it worked, but how did you figure out it was me?" John asked, curious.
"I'd never noticed it before, probably because it was covered by papers," Rodney mumbled that last bit under his breath, then his eyes went wide, "but of course when I saw it, I recognised the move. After all the years we've worked together, Sheppard, I know how your mind works. The message could only have been left by you."
John shrugged. "Well, I knew it wouldn't do me any good, but I wanted to let you know I was alive, and to give you the heads up it was Forant behind it." John was embarrassed when his voice cracked, and he struggled to get a grip before he continued. "At the time I knew rescue was out the question, as I was out of my time and couldn't do a damn thing to help myself. Forant had me just where he wanted, and if it wasn't for you guys figuring it out… "
Rodney slowly shook his head. "We might have been the ones to come get you, but it was your clue that set the rescue in motion, John. Sure, Forant abducted you in his fancy ship and for a while he had the upper hand, but it was your smarts, and bravery that saved you." John couldn't trust himself to speak, but it didn't matter, as Rodney was in full flow. "'Before we met, I thought I had all the answers, but in those days, I would only follow the evidence, and waited until I justified my conclusions before I put any theory into action. You though, you were the one who taught me to think outside the box and with my gut, not just my head. So because of you, Sheppard, and your confidence that I'd work out that weird, crazy sign of yours, I went to Tynos on nothing but a hunch." Rodney rubbed his wound, and winced. "Okay, I will admit getting shot wasn't exactly part of the plan."
"Really?" John said quietly, amazed at his friend's revelation.
"Yes, really." Rodney broke into a smile. "You're a smart guy, Sheppard, for a non-geek. Not just that, I've seen how your influence has helped shape lives - look at Ronon." Then his friend went uncharacteristically quiet for a moment before he turned to face him, full on. "The fact is, flyboy, as much as I'm the resident genius around here, it's you who holds this place together. You've got to snap out of whatever's going on in that spiky head of yours, because we need our military commander back."
John swallowed, and scraped a shaking hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say…"
Rodney tapped the chessboard. "I think I've done enough talking for both of us, at least for now, so let's just finish this game. Next, I want your help in finding that other Trojan Forant planted. If he is still alive, we can't risk the bastard paying us a surprise visit, can we?"
"He's alive, I'm sure of it." John could feel his hackles start to rise, and the anger felt good, empowering. It was the first time he'd felt strong for weeks, and was ashamed to realise he'd nearly let Forant ruin his life. The old man's domination had been so oppressive and overwhelming, he'd left him feeling weak, useless. He'd lost faith in himself, but no more.
Then and there he was determined if there was a next time, it would be him calling the shots. In fact John began to relish meeting him again, as he wanted revenge, but not for himself. The Ancient had shot Rodney and created the monster that wounded Beckett and his brother – he would pay for that.
"Well, are you going to take all night?" Rodney was looking at him impatiently.
John roused himself, and realised he'd zoned out, because it was clear Rodney had been watching him for a while. "Sorry, Rodney and, thanks."
"Forget it - but you can arrange the party next time. Oh, and I expect to see you in my lab tomorrow."
ooooOoooo
The crutches made his progress slow and clumsy, his shoulders aching under the strain, but it felt good to be once again under his own steam. It made him feel independent again, back in control, and at last John could see the light start to appear at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.
Dave looked every inch the business man as he stood waiting by the 'gate and John smiled. He still found it hard to believe this captain of industry, who up till now suffered nothing more than a paper cut, was the same man who'd got hurt, risking his life to save him.
The sunlight danced on the floor, and its reflection shone on Dave's face as he turned to greet him, and John saw the boyish grin appear. He was going to miss him. "So…all set then?"
Dave gave his collar a tug. "It's going to take a while to get used to wearing a tie again, but yeah. It's time I went back."
The piece of dark blue silk looked a little squint, so John leant forward to straighten it, but nearly toppled over in the process. Dave caught him. "Easy, bro! As much as I like to visit, next time I'd rather it didn't involve hospitals or near death situations." Dave quipped, as he held him, and John felt the warmth of his brothers firm hands on his shoulders, until he was once again firmly steady on his feet.
"About that, will you get the house ready for me and the guys to visit in say, a couple of months?" John asked. "I'm hoping to be able to swim again by then. Unfortunately, I don't think the leg will be strong enough for surfing, but if I can get Carson out the way – I might give it a try." John winked and whispered the last part, just in case the Scot happened to pass by.
Dave's face fell and he looked concerned. "Are you sure you want to go back there, John? It must hold some bad memoires."
John knew his brother cared for him; in fact they were closer now than they'd ever been. He was also aware Dave wasn't the only one who was worried about his decision. Even to his own ears it sounded crazy, but it was something he had to do.
"It's a beautiful house and I'm damned if that bastard is going to spoil it for me." John spat out the last part. "I have to do this, Dave. I need to show him I'm not afraid, and prove to myself I'm in charge of my own life." John could feel himself shaking with anger as the words came out.
"Fine, if that's what you want I'll make sure it's ready." Dave said. "Although you do know I will be coming to check up on you?" His brother told him, and John was relieved to see the smile back.
"I was hoping for that, besides I want you to come with me on a stake out." John asked, and when Dave looked confused he explained. "I'd like to see that cute doctor friend of Carson's. He won't let me meet her in case she recognises me from the day, but Ronon said she still looks hot. Is that true?"
Dave grinned. "Yes, Stella is one good looking woman alright, but Carson better watch – her husband is Chief of Police."
The brothers shared a smile, then Dave extended his hand, and John grasped it warmly. Dave though, had something more to say. "Seriously, John, you have nothing to prove to anyone, especially Forant. Think about it kid, that's why he grabbed you. He wanted his army to have your courage, your inner strength. Where he went wrong, and his biggest mistake, was he didn't value your compassion."
John stood for a moment, too speechless for words, then nodded to Chuck. Dave stood to attention, gave him a salute, and with a final nod, he had gone, leaving John feeling a little lost standing on his own.
"It's good to see you back on your feet, Colonel." John turned round to find Lorne watching him.
John gave him a wry smile and got into a lumbering step beside him. "Thanks, Major, but technically its foot, not feet, but once the cast is off, I'm hoping to be back on light duty in a couple of weeks."
Lorne looked relieved. "Well, I for one am pleased to hear that, Colonel, you have mighty big boots to fill."
John felt himself flush with embarrassment, and was pleased when Sgt Conway diverted Lorne's attention. The two men went into a confab about missing ordnance, then saluted and walked away.
It seemed to take hours, and by the time he reached the recreation room, John was achy and exhausted. He was happy with what he saw though, Martha had done him proud.
The tables were laden with pizza, burgers and for Teyla a nice mixed salad. There were also cases of beer, and some single malt for Carson, because his guys had drained the doc's last bottle. John knew he had some making up to do, but was aware this small offering was only chump change compared to what he'd received from the people who not only had saved his life, but also his sanity.
Forant hadn't just damaged his body, he'd also stolen a piece of his soul, and John shuddered when he thought of what he'd nearly lost. A career which he loved, a place where he fitted in for the first time in his life. Most important of all, his friends and Dave. They had supported him, stuck by him, even when he'd given up on himself, and that was one debt he could never repay.
John knew there was a way to go, but he was now stumbling along the road ahead by himself. He also knew with friends like his, he would never be truly alone. Forant was still out there, he was sure of it, could feel it in his bones, but dwelling on the past would only destroy him, and give The Ancient the hold he'd wanted.
The nightmares still lingered, but were getting less every day. He was coping if not recovered, but until then he would do what he did best - smile, suck up the pain and keep holding on until it passed. Life was a rollercoaster so the adage went, and his certainly was. He'd had some highs, and way too many lows to count. Still, what had he really to complaint about? After all, he'd survived once again to fight another day…
THE END
Thanks for all the great reviews, and alerts, and to all of you who followed the story. Thanks too to my beta Sherry 57, and apologies for all the tweaks I made since your beta. The mistakes were unfortunately all mine!
I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did please let me know. If you didn't, con crit is always welcome.
Forant of course is a bit of a loose end. Is he dead? Well, I'll let you guy's decide. If you want to see a round 3, then let me know!