Chapter 8: What did he do to you honey?
"John?" I waited until he looked up at me, his pupils strangely dilated as he struggled to contain his desire to punish Walker in the most permanent way possible. Walker knelt there silently ... smart enough to realise that he'd become superfluous to the drama taking place around him. My eyes pleaded with John as I shook my head silently, begging him not to do something we'd struggle to explain away. John's expression turned mutinous ... he looked down at Walker again before sighing in frustration.
"Fine," he growled, raising the gun and slamming his target with the handle instead. Watching Walker slump to the ground unconscious he then looked at me again. "Don't make me regret I didn't finish that."
"Can we get out of here now?" I asked, keeping my eyes away from Walker. I'd wanted him dead ... without consequences I would have stood silently and let John shoot him. Now I couldn't bear to look at him, fearing I'd be seeing a side of myself I didn't want to acknowledge.
"Ronon, are we clear?" John called for an update before answering my question.
"Looks like it," Ronon replied. "You should be good to go."
"Send two marines to the medical lab to secure a prisoner," John ordered. He held out a hand to me, waiting until I'd taken it and then drawing me close against his side. I'd been running on adrenalin since John had arrived, something I didn't realise until it abruptly left and exhaustion took it's place. I leant heavily against John, letting him take some of my weight ... not sure I could have walked out of there completely under my own steam.
Teyla had remained a silent observer for those last few minutes with Walker. Once we began moving she hurried forward, grabbing her P90 off the table and moving into position in front of us. Once at the front door John sent Teyla back to Rodney's position – probably a combination of protection in case some of Walker's men had remained undetected and to hurry him along.
I knew it was too good to be true ... the whole way through the house, out the front door, and across the floodlit front yard I'd been expecting something. I'm not sure whether anything would have happened ... whether we could have just walked on by never the wiser. But the faint sound of boots scraping on concrete coupled with the squeak of a metal door drew my eyes towards the shed I'd run to the first night.
"John," I tugged his hand, urging him to stop. Making a play of stumbling dizzily I leaned closer and whispered in John's ear. "There's someone hiding in that shed to your right."
John nodded, keeping his eyes on mine as he considered what to do next. Our behaviour must have created too much suspicion though because before we could decide we were confronted.
"Stop there." Of course – it was the gravelly voice of the infamous Mr Brown.
John turned with me until we were facing the shed. Brown strolled out casually, shotgun held resolutely in front of him.
"Figures you'd hide," I taunted before John could say anything. Drawing on reserves I thought I'd used up I straightened away from John, needing to confront Brown standing firmly on my own two feet. "Not so easy when your victim isn't restrained is it? I'm surprised you're still here ... surely Walker isn't paying you enough to warrant this much loyalty."
"So this is your boyfriend?" Brown walked across to us, ignoring everything I said as he look John up and down like he wasn't what Brown had expected. "She threatened me with you, you know," he said to John like they were buddies, his whole demeanour arrogance and overconfidence. "Said you'd do to me tenfold whatever I did to her."
"Interesting," John's tone gave nothing away about what he was feeling. "What did he do to you honey?"
I smirked at the unaccustomed endearment, surprised I could find anything even remotely funny given how much I really hated that guy. In fact I discovered in that moment that I hated him so much I was prepared to be completely up front with John about his list of crimes against me. "Let's see – he drugged me, cut my check and my thigh - twice, let his buddy punch me in the gut, scared the crap out of me, and actively went along with Walker experimenting on me." I paused to let that sink in before adding the last bit. "On the other hand he turned out to be very ordinary with the fighting sticks so I did get to beat the crap out of him. That's probably worth a few points."
John moved faster than I'd ever seen before, ripping the shotgun from Brown's hands before he knew what had happened. "Let's make this fair," he smiled grimly, throwing the shotgun into the bushes.
I moved out of the way as Brown took the opportunity presented to him, swinging at John before he'd fully turned back to face him. John blocked with ease, bringing his knee up into Brown's stomach. Brown fell to his knees gasping in air, but quicker than I would have expected he surged back to his feet and went at John again. This time John grabbed his left hand, twisting the wrist up painfully. I flinched as Brown screamed in pain and rage before John tossed him callously aside again.
The glint of metal shone before I registered Brown had a blade clutched in his right hand.
"John!" I called out sharply. "Knife."
John ducked Brown's first swipe, reaching behind him for the knife he always carried at the back of his vest. Holding it so that the blade stuck out from his body John circled Brown, looking for an opening. Brown must have had a death wish because he continued to go on the attack – his second attempted knife strike was blocked by John who took the opportunity to slice Brown's thigh before he could get clear. Brown tried again and again, each time being blocked and receiving another cut across the leg for his efforts. Blood from a number of deep cuts was turning his pants a dark red black and he was starting to stagger in an uncoordinated fashion but he still kept going. It defied explanation ... that he'd stay and fight and not give up when I'd been sure he was more the type to deal or run. Did he really dislike me that much?
It was pretty clear to me that John was just playing with Brown, making him think he stood a chance when really he didn't. John proved it when he suddenly grabbed Brown, jerking the other man's arm behind his back and twisting it upwards until Brown dropped his knife. John put his own knife against Brown's cheek, waiting a few moments as his opponent panted harshly, eyes wild in fear.
"Oops," John taunted grimly, deliberately cutting a long line across Brown's face.
Brown yelled in rage, trying to get free but held too tightly to be successful. John abruptly let go of his arm, watching dispassionately as Brown slammed into the dirt at his feet. Brown lurched upright again ... I'd give him points for persistence if nothing else but I really wanted him to just give it up already.
"You should learn when to stay down," John echoed my thoughts, slamming a fist into Browns stomach that sent him straight back to the ground, this time ending the battle. Brown was lying on his back in the dirt, bloodied and bruised while John stood over him having hardly broken a sweat. It was frightening but in a 'God he's impressive and I'm so glad he's mine' kind of way.
John knelt down in the dirt beside Brown, grabbing his head by the hair and pulling up sharply. "This will never be over for you," he said in a low purposeful voice. "I will personally see to it that every cell mate you get for the rest of your painfully short life makes your existence a living hell. You will never know another minute of peace," John promised. "And if you ever come near Sabina again ... I will kill you."
Letting Brown's head drop back to the ground John stood and walked back to me. Grabbing my hand again he urged me over to the helicopter I'd noticed only on the periphery when we'd first exited the house.
"Let's go," he helped me up into the co-pilots seat, taking inordinate care to make sure I was strapped in properly, before getting himself set in the pilots seat.
"John?" The exhaustion was back and I struggled not to let it show, my voice shaking as I tried to get him to look at me.
"Not now okay," John shot me a dark gaze before looking away. Grabbing his radio he called for an update. "Ronon, Teyla – you guys ready to leave?"
"We believe that all of Doctor Walker's men have been accounted for," Teyla reported. "Rodney has completed his work on Walker's computer and we are currently heading back towards the front of the house."
"Is Sabina all right?" Rodney broke in to ask in concern.
"She will be," John promised. "Ronon, leave one team of marines to stand guard over the prisoners - there's another guy in the front yard they'll have to pick up. Have the other team patrol the perimeter. I'll radio for transport and more men to clean up this mess but for now I want to get Sabina out of here asap."
"I'm on my way," Ronon promised.
John put through his requests to the SGC, concentrating solely on what needed to be done to finish it as we waited for the others to get back.
Ronon and Teyla climbed into the helicopter, each acknowledging my presence in the front section before reluctantly taking spots in the back. Rodney wasn't so easily deterred, insistently strapping himself into the front with us despite John's pointed glare.
"Hey Rodney," I greeted him tiredly, surprised at how happy I was to see him. I'd forgotten my voice was so raw and pained until I noticed Rodney wincing as he shot a glance at me before weakly looking away.
"What'd that sick bastard do to you?" Rodney muttered, shooting a worried glance at John.
"I'm okay Rodney," I said firmly.
"We'll let the doctors be the judge of that when we get you to the hospital," John replied.
"No!" I swallowed hard at the pain of yelling that. Trying to calm down I tried again. "No hospital."
"Sabina," John looked at me sternly. "You need to be checked ... there is no way I can take you anywhere else at this point."
"I'm not going into any hospital John," I promised grimly. "You'll have to knock me out and carry me in."
"Be reasonable," John retorted irritably. "You look like hell which is a step up from how I found you when you were still screaming because of whatever that guy injected you with. We're not going anywhere else until you get medical attention."
"Sheppard," was Rodney actually protesting on my behalf? I looked at him hopefully, my spirits sinking when I saw the resolute look on his face, and the way he kept his eyes from meeting mine. "Look at her – she doesn't look like she can take much more and we all know she's not gonna do this willingly."
John turned a stubborn gaze to me, frowning when he saw the faint tremors I couldn't hide, the tears welling in my eyes. "What do you suggest then Rodney because clearly she needs treatment?!"
"How about we bring the doctors to her?" Rodney offered. "It'll take a bit longer of course but in the end it might be the easier option."
"I am still sitting here you know," I muttered irritably when they continued to exclude me from their conversation.
"Okay," John capitulated. "Find me a suitable landing site not too far from here."
Rodney turned back to his screen. "How about Shiprock? There's a diner we could commandeer."
"Fine," John agreed, getting back on his radio. "Stargate Command this is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard requesting a patch through to General Landry, over."
I listened in disbelief as John requested an SGC doctor be included in the backup being sent to Walker's ranch – to be dropped off at Shiprock before they continued on to the ranch. He even asked for someone to contact the diner so they'd be ready to let us in when we got there. He made it sound like I wasn't up to the two hour flight back to the mountain which might not have been that much of an exaggeration.
"Tighten those straps Rodney," John ordered. "Teyla, Ronon, secure yourselves for takeoff."
It was probably really cool going for a midnight flight in that helicopter but I was too exhausted to really enjoy it. I wondered how I'd missed hearing the helicopter approach Walker's ranch but quickly suppressed the thought before it could fully form when I realised that I'd been fully engaged in screaming my head off at the time.
John actually landed right outside what I assumed was the Shiprock diner because it was the only place on the entire main street that had lights on. I'd spaced out for a bit, my gaze fixed out the front window even though I wasn't really taking in what I was seeing.
"Time to get out," John's voice was suddenly at my side. Lifting me carefully into his arms he carried me across to the door Ronon was holding open - no protests from me both because I welcomed not having to get there myself and because being carried like that was strangely comforting and made me feel protected. I didn't get much chance to look around once we were inside, just enough to register the classic 'diner' feel of the place, much like a hundred places I'd stopped at in my travels.
Teyla helped John sit me in the largest booth – he wanted me to lie down but I wasn't ready to let go that much, happy to slouch down resting my head against the back of the chair, leaning my weight against John. It was strange, sitting in that booth with John next to me, Ronon, Rodney and Teyla all sitting opposite. No one said anything but it wasn't awkward. Finally though I felt there was one thing I could say, one thing I wanted to get out.
"Thank you," I looked at each of them in turn, ending with my eyes on John. "I knew you'd find a way ... find me ... and ... just – thank you."
"Never in doubt," Rodney tried to be light hearted, an effort I appreciated immensely.
Author's Note:
Next Up? Fortunate Journey Season 4 Chapter 9