Chapter 2 - Retrieval of the Wayward

The Eye of the God
P9G-844

Sheppard stood in front of the four-metre-tall Ancient obelisk, letting his gaze glance over the Aleteran lettering on the smooth Naquadah surface of the transporter. The unique harmony of the transporter's system was already waking up in his mind, greeting him cheerily and eagerly telling him all about itself and its functions.

"The Eye of the Gods is protected against anyone who does not possess the key," Volnek, the Sodan hardass, laughed condescendingly in Teal'c grip. "Your people have already tried to force their way through and learned the hard way it is a futile task, haven't they?"

"Dr Lee is still in the infirmary, Colonel Sheppard," Teal'c informed him gravely. "The device electrocuted him badly when he tried to implement an override, according to Colonel Carter."

"And you will never get that information from me." Volneck bared his teeth.

Sheppard ignored the assholes sneering and decided to forgo the control panel with the dialling crystal altogether to go directly for the command access of the obelisk.

He made a mental note to thank Dr Kratzer at Area 51 the next time he saw her. All those long hours she had made him spend activating Ancient junk were proving quite useful.

User interface, please, he sent a polite mental request.

A hidden compartment opened on the left side of the control panel, inviting him to place his palm on the slot and have his way with it.

The moment his skin made contact with the transporter, he had access to all of its functions and information, including the little side note about the security measure it employed against unauthorised entry Teal'c cautioned him about.

Show me your network and default parameters.

The obelisk obliged.

A holoscreen the size of a laptop screen came to life at Sheppard's eye level, startling Volnek, if the gasp he heard from somewhere to his left was any indication. It showed him a settlement that was located on the other side of the equator, a few thousand miles of harsh jungle and an ocean in between that spot and their current location. To make it worse, the village was surrounded by a series of mineral-rich mountains, which made scanning from orbit next to impossible.

There were two transporters, acting as an extension to the highly inaccessible, therefore perfectly hidden village. The one he was connected to, which was only half a mile away from the Stargate, was the first one. The other one was right in the middle of the village.

The code was there to transport the villagers between the two transporters, giving them easy access to the Gate by cutting down the months of travel time. If a wrong code was entered or if the system detected any external hardware that wasn't its own, it would trigger a sensor that activated the security measure, which was a nasty shock of a few thousand volts. Not enough to kill but more than enough to discourage further tampering.

Sheppard didn't have to worry about any of that. He already had admin access while the obelisk waited eagerly for his orders, inputs or reconfigurations.

Going through the list of the transporter's functions, he found something very interesting and very important, considering he was just about to pay a village full of fierce warriors a visit with nothing but an uncooperative prisoner and Teal'c.

Show me the current view of the settlement and its life signs.

His order was interpreted for what it was and a feed akin to live security footage appeared on the holoscreen, showing him exactly what the villagers were doing at that time.

What he saw gave him pause.

The entire village seemed to have gathered into one spot, in the clear view of the second obelisk. They were gathered around what looked like a fighting ring. Inside the ring, there were two warriors, fighting with what looked to be staffs with blades attached to them.

The view expanded and zoomed in at his request.

When he saw who was inside the ring, Sheppard' felt his blood run cold.

"That is Kel Shak Lo," Volnek piped up again, sounding happy as he watched Mitchell struggling to hold up against another Sodan warrior who seemed hellbent on beating the shit out of him. "It is already too late for your friend."

"It is a fight to the death, Colonel," Teal'c added. "We must hurry."

"He will die soon," Volnek said, sounding pleased with the fact.

Something inside Sheppard snapped when he heard that all-too-confident tone.

"Well then, you better start praying he doesn't," Sheppard took his hand off the interface and got in the smug asshole's face. "Or I'm just gonna lock this thing down right now. You Sodans are all about keeping to yourself, aren't you? I can make that wish permanent by cutting you off from the rest of the galaxy... forever," he snarled, his voice going low as his anger grew.

Volnek covered his fear by baring his teeth at Sheppard. But his gaze was locked on the still glowing transporter behind Sheppard, calmly transmitting the live footage despite the fact that Sheppard was no longer connected to it. It was clear to Sheppard that the Sodan asshole didn't want to believe his threat, but the evidence before his eyes made it clear that Sheppard absolutely could.

Even Teal'c looked a little taken aback, not sure whether Sheppard was bluffing or not.

"You wouldn't!" Volnek growled.

"Don't fucking push me," Sheppard growled right back before turning to Teal'c. "We are going in, now."

Teal'c inclined his head and tightened his grip on the prisoner and his P90.

"How–" Volnek started to demand but cut himself off when the transporter started to hum and glow, jumping to obey Sheppard's mental command.

The next moment, they were all enveloped by a cone of energy that instantly transported them to its twin in the middle of the Sodan village.

Formal Fighting Ring
Sodan Village

Mitchell fought, swinging his staff mostly in defence as Jolan came at him like a man possessed. He had realised during the first few strikes that the man had not even skimmed the surface during the torturous weeks of his training. Mitchell was hardly a match against the Sodan's skill, precision and speed - his desire for avenging his dead brother.

Jolan's knee connected with Mitchell's abdomen as he barely blocked another vicious strike from Jolan's staff. He went down on a knee for what felt like the hundredth time during the past few minutes. Mitchell retaliated by sweeping his own staff over the ground and catching the asshole in the ankle, making him lose balance for a moment. When Mitchell got back to his feet, Jolan came at him with a combination of rotating staff, swinging fists and dancing feet. He managed to block a few swings and dodge a couple of blows. But at the final moment, he was distracted by Jolan's fist that came very close to his nose. He reared back, bringing the staff up to block the blow, leaving the rest of his torso open. He paid for it when Jolan's downward swipe of his staff cut open a long gash on his right thigh.

Mitchell cried out in pain and stumbled to his knee. His leg bled profusely, soaking the material of his pants red in seconds. It burned so badly, just looking at it made his vision blur.

His brain took a moment too long to remind him that he was still in the fight. His staff flew out of his hand when Jolan knocked it off, causing Mitchell to topple fully to the ground.

There was nothing he could do but stare at the pure hatred in Jolan's eyes as he brought the staff up, intent on bringing the blade down towards Mitchell's very unprotected throat.

"Enough!"

Jolan froze with his staff still held high, turning his head towards their left to see who it was. Mitchell didn't. He had recognised the voice that roared the command instantly.

John.

"Step away from him… now," Sheppard demanded, his voice low and dangerous. He sounded very close, only a few feet away. Mitchell wanted to turn his head and look, but he couldn't quite tear his gaze away from the glinting blade hovering above him.

"As I understand, you kill to avenge, don't you?" Sheppard continued. "Since this asshole isn't dead, as you all can see, there's no need to carry on with that."

Jolan's blade fell to the ground a few inches away from Mitchell's face. He raised himself off the ground halfway by putting his weight on his bent elbows and turned to take in his rescue party.

"Volnek!" Jolan whispered but stayed where he was, frozen.

Mitchell's gaze found Sheppard first; he was right there, standing in front of the Ancient obelisk that was just outside the fighting ring, dressed in black BDUs, a tac vest and only two handguns strapped to thigh holsters instead of a primary weapon.

Compared to Teal'c who was in full tactical gear plus the P90 he held at the ready, Sheppard should have looked completely harmless, except for the tightly controlled fury in his eyes and the menacing aura he radiated from his entire demeanour.

Volnek, the bastard who had tried to kill Mitchell in the first place, was also there, standing next to Teal'c. His hands were out of sight, probably restrained behind his back, but otherwise unharmed, upright and very much alive.

"Haikon," Volnek yelled imploringly at the village leader who also stood unmoving, staring at the new arrivals. "I didn't… I didn't tell them a thing," then he jerked his head at Sheppard, the look in his eyes a mix of fear and disgust. "It was him."

Mitchell couldn't help but chuckle. It seemed that the Ancient obelisk hadn't stood a chance against Shepppard's brand of charm either.

His chuckle drew Sheppard's attention towards him. He took everything in with one long look and strode towards Mitchell with a grimace, promptly dismissing the entire village.

"Cam."

"Hi," Mitchell said as Sheppard took a knee next to him, checking out the bleeding cut on his leg. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Sheppard muttered before finally looking at Mitchell. There was a lot of guilt and apology in those darkened eyes. "I got back as soon as I heard."

Mitchell looked around, taking in the still flabbergasted Sodans surrounding them as Sheppard pulled out a field bandage from his tac vest and started wrapping it around the wound.

"Thanks," Mitchell said once he tightened the bandage around his leg. It hurt like a mother fucker, but at least, now, it didn't burn or bleed more when he moved it side to side slowly.

"You're welcome," Sheppard said. Then, without any warning, he pulled out a handgun in one fast, smooth motion and aimed it to his left. Mitchell turned his head, startled, and found… nothing.

Just as he was starting to wonder why Sheppard was aiming a gun at thin air, Sheppard growled. "Don't," he said, staring at the spot he was aiming at. "That little trick doesn't work on me. Unless you want a bullet between your eyes, stop right the fuck there."

That was when it hit him that Sheppard could somehow detect the activated Sodan cloaks. Which made sense, in an unbelievably bizarre kind of way, if those devices were also Ancient gadgets.

"We are here to get our man and go," Sheppard turned to Haikon and said in a low voice, his gun still pointing to their left, his aim steady and his stance unwavering. "We're not looking for a fight. There is no reason to fight. Stand them down."

Then he took his other gun out and pointed it to their right. "Teal'c, watch your six," he said calmly, his gaze never leaving Haikon. "I know where they are."

Teal'c instantly turned around with his P90 towards his invisible opponent, trusting Sheppard's command instinctively.

"Stand down," Haikon raised his voice and waved a hand in a downward motion.

Three cloaks deactivated, revealing Sodan warriors exactly where the guns were pointed.

"Jesus fuck," Mitchell muttered. "How do you do that?"

Sheppard gave one gun to Mitchell and then hauled him up by his free hand. "Not now," he said, wrapping an arm around Mitchell's waist once he was on his feet. That helped him stay upright without putting much weight on his injured leg.

"Thanks," Mitchell muttered, leaning on Sheppard heavily.

Sheppard nodded. He lowered his gun to the ground and Mitchell did the same, making their intentions clear that they weren't looking for a fight. Sheppard then turned to Haikon. "We're leaving now."

"Haikon, please, my man, think about what I said," Mitchell said before Sheppard could turn away and drag him out of the ring. "Don't let the Priors take away what makes you all who you are, don't lose your faith for a cheap bag of tricks, and don't let go of your understanding of truth."

Haikon was too good to let any emotion show on his hardened face. Jolan, however, was already untying his brother, relief pouring out of his entire being as he checked him. There was a moment when he glanced back at Mitchell when he heard his words, and the look he caught in Jolan's eyes confirmed to Mitchell that, at least, he had gotten through to one of them.

"Leave, and never return." Haikon snarled.

"Gladly," Sheppard muttered before helping Mitchell limp out of the ring. Teal'c joined them, staying at the back, just in case. The transporter started humming and buzzing cheerily when they approached.

Then a bright white light washed over them, snatching them away to safety from the shocked and angry bunch of Sodans.

Mitchell's Quarters
SGC

A few hours later

Mitchell sat on his bed with a groan. He was glad to be back in his own clothes, feeling clean and refreshed. The shower had been an awkward affair due to the fresh bandage he had on his thigh covering the eighteen sutures, but it had definitely been worth it.

Sheppard lounged on a chair at his small dining table, fiddling with the small F-302 figurine of scale Mitchell had swiped off of Lee's work table a week after his arrival.

"I was done almost a month ago and I should have been back," Sheppard said, his focus firmly on the F-302 trapped between his nimble fingers. "We rounded up two more Trust cells, but there was nothing on Ba'al and his clones, or Athena for that matter. They just disappeared after their plan backfired," he let out a weary sigh and started to methodically deconstruct the fighter into smaller pieces. "That should have been the end of that, at least for now, but Halliday paired me up with an off-world team and sent me out of the planet just when I wanted to head back. Said he wanted me to verify a few leads connected to Anubis–"

Mitchell settled on the bed fully, letting his injured leg stretch out in front of him, but he kept his own gaze on Sheppard. The man was talking, without much prodding from Mitchell, and Mitchell intended to keep him going for as long as he could.

"Halliday, isn't he the head of operations of the NID?"

"Yeah."

"He sent you and a team through the Gate?"

"We took an Al'Kesh."

"Where the hell did you even go?"

"A few planets," Sheppard said. "Chasing some intel about a hidden lab of Anubis that led us back and forth. He said he wanted to make certain that the intel had any merit before he handed the case over to SGC."

"So what, he just trapped you with an off-world assignment, just like that?" Mitchell frowned. "He could do that?"

"No," Sheppard said, squinting at a tiny wing he had taken out of the prototype. "I was planning to Gate back the first chance I got, but then we actually found the lab we've been looking for."

"You did?"

"Yeah, the planet had a locked Gate, kept asking for an authorization code when we tried dialling in–"

"Let me guess, you overrode it with your abracadabra–"

"Something like that," he hitched a shoulder in a shrug before flashing a grin at Mitchell. "That was when Prometheus showed up on P3X-584's orbit, and Carter beamed me out. With no warning to anyone."

"Shit," Mitchell chuckled, trying to imagine how that could have gone down with the rest of the NID agents. "Why would she do that?"

"Because all of them, the General, Carter, Jackson… have been trying to contact me since your disappearance," Sheppard said, starting to sound a little angry. "Only none of SGC's messages were getting through to me. Halliday's been keeping me out of the loop. I didn't know. That's why she beamed me straight out of the planet when they finally found me."

"Yeah, Landry said they were running out of places to look for me, and decided you were the next best thing because of the Ancient obelisk," Mitchell said, recalling his briefing with the General. The IOA had been on the verge of closing down the search when they had finally located Sheppard. "Which worked out well, in any case."

As it happened, Sheppard hadn't needed anything from the recalcitrant Sodan to make the damn thing do exactly what he wanted. His ability with all things Alteran was already proving to be a great ass-saver.

"So yeah, Carter is still on board Prometheus, going over the data she managed to download from the lab. Jackson is with the IOA, debriefing them on your retrieval and Landry is busy tearing Halliday a new one, last I heard."

Mitchell watched Sheppard neatly arrange the parts of his deconstructed figurine on his table. "Are you going back?" he asked quietly after a while.

"Oh, no," Sheppard said, instantly. "I was there as a consultant, not an agent. They tried to play me. I'm done."

"Why did you even go to them in the first place?"

Mitchell thought he kept his anger and bitterness out of his tone, but the way Sheppard went still and quiet told him he hadn't been entirely successful.

"Because I felt guilty, Cam," he murmured after a long moment. "I felt like I left a job half done," Sheppard's gaze was fixed on a spot on the table, but it was clear to Mitchell that he was seeing something that wasn't there. "That bastard could have destroyed this entire place…"

"It wasn't your fault," Mitchell intervened before Sheppard could go further down that hole. There was a lot of guilt in his tone that had no business being there. "How could you possibly have known?"

"I just…I had to at least go and see if I did leave anything half done," Sheppard insisted, studiously avoiding eye contact with Mitchell. "I had to see it done."

"Well, is it?"

Sheppard started putting his F-302 back together by picking up a wing and attaching it to the fuselage. "Until Athena or Ba'al pops up again, yeah."

"Would it have killed you to tell me that you were going?" Mitchell asked softly, trying to keep his hurt feelings out of his question. "I thought you left for good." Again, went unsaid, but Sheppard's wince told him he heard it, nevertheless.

Sheppard inserted the final part of the tiny F-302 and moved the reconstructed model back to where it was before turning to face Mitchell for the first time since they started the conversation.

The look in his bright hazel eyes reminded Mitchell of storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

"Cam, I didn't tell you because I couldn't let you stop me," Sheppard's frank admittance surprised Mitchell.

"Don't deny it, you would have tried," Sheppard went on, his voice low. "It's fucking hard to say no to you sometimes–"

Mitchell lost himself in the brewing emotions immersed in that heavy gaze. There was a lot going on in there; stark honesty, guilt, despair…

"Is that why you left the last time, too?" Mitchell whispered.

"I… yeah, probably," Sheppard said, ducking his head. Mitchell instantly missed the intensity of his gaze. "Couldn't hang around you after… well," he shrugged. "I transferred to rotors because I knew you were a fixed-wing through and through. I just… I don't know, Cam," he lifted his head again, looking miserable at having recalled that particular memory. "I had to get away. Staying around you would have hurt too much–"

In the face of that unexpected sincerity, Mitchell had no choice but to reciprocate in kind.

"It took about seventy-two hours after that conversation I had with you until it hit me what a complete moron I've been. It was just around then that I realised I wanted everything with you too, not just benefits, not just friendship, but everything. I've never regretted anything that bad ever in my life," Mitchell said, shaking his head self-deprecatingly.

Sheppard stared at him, shocked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Mitchell sighed. "After my patrol, I came looking for you, ready to grovel and beg," he said, his mind replaying the moment he realised the mistake he had made and what it had cost him. "You were gone, vanished… It was like you were never there. I looked for you, John, I looked for you everywhere and I couldn't find you."

"I didn't want to be found," Sheppard murmured, sounding just as regretful as Mitchell.

"Yeah, I get it now," Mitchell said, smiling ruefully. "That was one stupid-assed thing I could never forgive myself for doing. I didn't know what I was thinking."

"Yeah," Sheppard muttered. "Going no-contact with you wasn't one of my best decisions either."

Mitchell studied the man before him for a moment. Sheppard stayed where he was, gazing back at him. In his eyes, reluctant hope warred with doubt and uncertainty. Mitchell had never seen him so open, so vulnerable as he was then, silently waiting for Mitchell to make up his mind… make amends.

It was then or never.

"So, will you?" he asked, his voice unwavering.

"Will I what?"

"Give me another goddamn chance, John," Mitchell said clearly, precisely because he didn't want there to be any confusion about what he was asking. "I haven't been flirting just to fuck with you. I'd never. I want to try again, with you–"

"I can't get into a casual thing with you again," Sheppard said, forcing the words out, making an effort to see the conversation through as truthfully as he could. "I never got over you in the first place–"

"I'm not asking for a casual thing," Mitchell assured him. "I'm asking for a relationship, with dates and everything, I'm serious."

"I'm all kinds of messed up," he warned.

"I don't care," Mitchell insisted. "I'll have you just the way you are, and the rest we'll figure out as they come. So what do you say, John?"

Sheppard didn't say a thing.

He was silent for long enough that Mitchell started to shuffle on the bed, trying to think back to where he had gone wrong, or misstepped. Then Sheppard stood from his chair and stalked toward Mitchell with a predatory sort of look, Mitchell forgot all about thinking for a second.

His mind completely blanked out when Sheppard leaned over, took his face in his hands and pressed his lips against Mitchell's.

Mitchell would later find time to be embarrassed about the mortifyingly loud moan that escaped him when that happened. But, at that moment, he didn't care at all. All he cared about was keeping the man hovering above him right there with his hands wrapped around Sheppard's neck while he kissed him back as if his life depended on it.

Sheppard, for his part, didn't hold back. He kissed him slow and deep and sure while his hands on Mitchell's face were gentle as if he was cradling something precious.

"Yes," Sheppard whispered when they parted for air. "To all of that, yes."

Mitchell had one incredible moment to drink in the sight of him, his eyes dark and full of promise, before he sealed their lips back together.