Chapter 14 – Of wraps and donut holes
We're reaching the end of Season 1. I hope you've enjoyed this story so far. Longer chapter to compensate for the tiny one I posted earlier on.
No one in the flagship team has seen her in days. They surmise she's doing fine so far because the food keeps coming their way, no matter the time of day or night. She's sent away most of her brigade and is coping almost single-handedly. They have abandoned all hope of making her evacuate to the alpha site and by now, nobody has time to try and talk her into it. John has offered Elizabeth to remove her by force from her kitchen but knows it's useless. Louise is more afraid of leaving her station and leaving them behind than bearing the anger from their leader. Besides, as she's yelled at him the second time he tried to reason with her, she feels safer here than offworld and knows "how to take care of" herself. He raises his hands at that in surrender and leaves after giving her a bear hug, which almost gives her a heart attack. John is uncomfortable with physical contact, like her.
So, she keeps them fed and barely leaves the kitchen. She's abandoned all pretense for a "decent meal", settling for easier dishes like wraps and any kind of finger food that can be nibbled at while they work their butts off. They don't complain though. As Rodney puts it just a few hours before the invasion, her food is "to die for". The pun is totally unintended and makes everyone in the lab giggle compulsively. He chokes on his sandwich and is only saved from a horrible yet ridiculous death by John who gives him the heimlich maneuver then sniggers at him that "really, Rodney, if I tell Louise you've puked her food all over your computer, she'll give you a talking to!"
On the day of the invasion, she sends her last stubborn assistant through the event horizon then takes a deep breath and trudges back to her kitchen. The mess hall is now as empty as a salad bar in Texas and so are the kitchens that seem eerily quiet, the humming from the fridges at the far end of the huge room the only noise that could disturb her peace. But peaceful she is not. She might want to look like she's in control, but she's far from that state. She's not afraid to die but if death comes, she realizes, she wants it to be quick. She hasn't encountered a Wraith herself but has heard the marines talking about it when waiting in line for breakfast. As much as she once would have welcomed it not so long ago, she's lived and learnt and doesn't want her last thought before she leaves this plane of existence to be about pain and horror.
She looks around but finds nothing to occupy her mind. The kitchen is spic and span, the fridges and walk-in coolers stacked with food for those who'll need it, and even the chicks have been evacuated to the continent. She can help chuckling at the memory of it.
"Louise, really, sweetie, I don't have time for this!" John is standing in the middle of the room allotted to the coop, three floors down from the kitchen. Chickens are scurrying everywhere around their feet. Ford has been requisitioned to help them and is currently endeavoring to gather them on one side of the room so they can herd them into crates that will be transported to the mainland. Each time he thinks he's got them all, a couple of the most adventurous ones elude him and scurry back to where they came from.
"Agh!" Ford growls in frustration. "Chef, your baby chicks are a pain in the neck!"
She puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. "My baby chicks? Now, that takes the cake! They were still your baby chicks this morning when you were gushing about them to my staff at breakfast, uh?" She tilts her head to him, daring him to say otherwise.
He lifts his hands in surrender. "Whatever! They're a pain in the neck all the same!"
John has crossed his arms on his chest and treating himself to a few moments of pure mirth at the sight of those two bickering. "Enjoying yourself, Colonel?" Louise sniggers.
He doesn't recoil from her seemingly aggressive tone as he knows she barks more than she bites. "Absolutely, Ms Léger!" he mocks her, not realizing the chickens have all defeated Ford's efforts to corner them and are now heading for the door they've left ajar.
"John, damn it, pay attention! They're eluding us! Who left that damn door open anyway?" Louise groans in frustration. They've been at it for almost an hour and now, they're back to square one, or worse. If the chickens leave the room, they might as well use a whole contingent of marines to find them all. She has a sudden vision of grown-up, muscular men on all fours, trying to retrieve little screeching yellow balls from nooks and cranies. She snorts.
It's John's turn to glare at her. He lifts a menacing finger at her as he closes the door just in time before the first chicks try to push past it. "Don't! It's no laughing matter, Louise! I really have other fish to fry!"
She snorts some more. "Not fish, John, not fish... They're chickens!" she mocks him under her breath but he hears her.
He glares at Ford too who's laughing his head off. "Get those chickens in the crates asap, Lieutenant, or so help me God, I'll put you in the brig for a whole month," he growls, exasperated. Louise leans towards Aiden as she helps him put the chickens in the crate. "He always threatens anyone who aggravates him with that one. Never does," she whispers, shaking her head, her eyes crinkling with mirth. "If you ask me, he should become more creative. He doesn't scare anyone anymore!"
Aiden roars with laughter, making John walk briskly to them, looking very pissed. Aiden stands at attention, knowing even though it was Louise who had initiated it, he's crossed a line there. "Sorry, Sir," he apologizes hurriedly.
John chooses to ignore him, turning to the chef instead. She's still seemingly having the time of her life, a far cry from the shy petite woman he encountered not so long ago. He looms over her, his hazel eyes darkening. "Louise, I'm warning you. As much as I love you, you'd better end this right now! I don't have the time for your antics."
She's gasped at the L word and looks as if she'd want nothing else but to disappear in the ground. Aiden is watching and it's making the whole thing even more embarrassing. "I'm not scared of you," she says in a small voice, choosing to ignore the elephant in the room.
He's realized too what he's just said and looks away for a second before training his sharp gaze on her again, deciding he needs to regain his composure. He can't be seen by anyone – even Ford – as a softie or soon mayhem will rule this City – that is, if they survive, he thinks sarcastically. "Well, you should," he says grabbing her arm and making her look into his eyes. "Because you seem to think you can get away with anything you do or say. Let me tell you something, sweetie. Your privileges go as far as I allow them. Period. And from the time being, you've used them up so you'd better walk the line if you don't want to end up in the brig and I mean it!" he adds before releasing her and stomping out. "Let her finish the job, Ford. It'll teach her a lesson. I'll send marines to carry them to the jumper when she's done," he barks over his shoulder as he leaves.
Aiden looks sorry for her. "Don't worry," he says, seeing her eyes fill with tears. "He's just on edge and he's got too much on his hands right now."
"I thought it would do him good to relax a little. See the chickens. Think about something else..." she whispers to herself.
Aiden closes the distance between them and rubs her arm gently. "Hey, it was a good idea. I know for sure he had a good time."
"So why did he suddenly yell at me like that? He must have known I was not trying to be disrespectful... Where did it all come from?" she wonders, rubbing her hands on her face, feeling a headache shoot through her temples.
"Louise, if I may..." She looks up. "Colonel Sheppard is right about one thing. You and him – you have a special relationship. He does give you privileges no one else has. I think he's realized it's these same privileges that have allowed you to make the choice of staying here rather than being evacuated. It's plain to see he now regrets it."
"Why?" she cries out. "I'm not asking for his protection. I know I'll have to fend off for myself should we be confronted with an attack within the City. I'm not asking any of you to be my knight in shining armor."
"You don't get it. No matter what you say, he'll still feel the need to protect you and will be torn between protecting you and protecting the whole City. By stubbornly refusing to leave, you're making his job more difficult to accomplish."
Her lowers lip starts trembling. "I'm sorry. I just can't, Aiden. It's beyond my control. I cannot leave you all. I need to stay here. I know it's stupid. I don't know how to use a gun or fight. I know I'd be useless. I just can't abandon ship."
"And he knows it, believe me. And I'm sure he understands. He lashed out at you because he's scared for you."
"Ford, are you coming or not?" he hears Sheppard bark in his communicator.
He rolls his eyes at her. "The dragon is calling. Sorry, got to go," he apologizes, kissing her cheek. "I'm on my way, Sir. Ford out."
She sighs. She knows she's too on edge to listen to music or finish the novel whose reading she had to relinquish when she started working double shifts to compensate for the cooks who've been evacuated.
A small smile forms on her tight lips then it slowly spreads, warming her heart. She remembers how her grandmother used to say how making donuts holes was the only way she could calm her nerves during the German invasion. At the time, she was working for a well-off family in her hometown and those people, in spite of the restrictions, still had a pantry full of goods. Her granny had told her how some people had fled but some other had said they wouldn't let the war disrupt their habits – their courage and even recklessness the last rampart against tyranny.
She sets her Ipod to a selection of classical music – the kind that will both lift her spirits and soothe her nerves, making it possible for her to focus on her task. She sets to work, filling a couple of pots with oil that she is careful not to let boil. She gets what she needs from the pantry and fridge and starts making the dough, her mind lost in the memories of her childhood and her very first attempt at making the small balls of pure fluff, her body unconsciously swaying to the rhythm of Bach's Aria. She forgets about what's out there, beyond her realm, forgets about time and space and worries and regrets and guilt.
They haven't seen her in days but no one is really thinking about worrying about her anymore. The attack has come and gone and right now, John's eyes are peering at the screen in the control room with the flimsy hope of finding Ford who has disappeared from Atlantis and the planet altogether. They have few people left in the city but it's still much too many to identify who's who. Mayhem rules the place and after getting rid of Darts and Wraith, extinguishing fires and rescuing people, they are now trying to account for everyone, including Ford who is the most pressing matter though the fire alarm which has been sounding incessantly for more than half an hour now is really starting to get on everyone's nerves. Kind of the proverbial last straw on the camel's back.
"Can someone damn find a way to switch that off?" McKay yells, exasperated. "Why is that thing still on anyway when we've identified all fires and put them out from our viewpoint in the jumpers?"
"I don't know, Sir," the technician sitting at the next console answers patiently. "I do agree though. The systems confirm that all outside fires are now under control."
McKay snaps his fingers impatiently. "Outside, yes, that's it, outside!" He pushes the technician away from the console, making him yelp, not bothering to apologize even as he sees the disappoving look from Elizabeth. "The fire is inside!" She frowns but he stops her in her tracks as he sees her ready to intervene. "You need to send a team there, Elizabeth." She lifts her eyebrow questioningly. "The kitchens! There's a fire in the kitchens. Oh God, Louise is still likely to be there!"
He grabs a P90 and motions for a couple of marines to follow him. "Don't bother," he says as he hurries out of the room at a run, "I'll do it. It'll be faster if I do it myself anyway," he mumbles as he jogs to the next transporter with the two marines in tow, his body still running on the adrenaline it's been using steadily for the last hours.
Elizabeth has just confirmed to him on his headset that Ford has been found and beamed down in the infirmary. The worry in her voice has told him all he needs to know and has feared all along - the rescue mission was a partial success at best. Most people have been accounted for but they have about forty casualties from their first estimation and Rodney wonders when this nightmare is going to end.
The stench of burned meat is barely bearable the closer they get to the kitchens through the mess hall. The place is still empty and apart from a few strewn chairs, you'd think it's just an ordinary night on Atlantis. He lets the two marines go first and approach cautiously the doors to the kitchens. They're closed but as they approach slide open in a gentle and almost soundless whoosh. One of the marines updates Sheppard who cautions them on the intercom against jumping with both feet into a hornet's nest. Rodney sniggers. Look who's talking, he thinks but doesn't say it. His eyes are intent on the one red dot still shining on his device, indicating there's only one breathing being in the room left where not a couple of minutes ago there was still a second dot, though that latter was just flickering, not bright red. Rodney's heart sink. They're too late.
One of the marines raises his fist to signal a halt and peers into the darkened room now filled with smoke. The alarm is still sounding and it's obvious the reason is not a fire, only the smoke that is still swirling towards the detector.
What they see defies their imagination. Standing in the middle of the room, next to the long table that has been unceremoniously pushed aside and badly splintered from the shock, is their ordinarily reserved cook looming over the body of a horribly charred Wraith. She doesn't seem to register their presence. In her left hand, she's still holding a boning knife – the pointy kind you use to carve meat. Pots and pans and utensils are littering the floor. Now they're closer, it also smells like burned oil and doughnuts. Rodney glimpses at a large dish covered with greaseproof paper and filled with donut holes that have not had time to be powdered with confectioner's sugar. That explains the donuts but not the burnt oil, except if she was caught unawares by the Wraith while cooking and had had no time to switch off the gas.
They approach her cautiously. "Ma'am," one of the marines tries to attract her attention, in vain.
Rodney shakes his head. "Let me do it. Louise? Honey? We've come as soon as we realized something was off." He remains where he is but tilts his head to peer at her.
She doesn't move an inch but seems to register his presence and finally turns her gaze slightly towards him. Her eyes blink as if she were suddenly waking up from a transe. "Hi, Rodney," she whispers. "You're OK?"
One of the marines' eyebrows shoot to his hairline while the other gapes. Rodney chuckles softly. "You're asking me if I'm OK? This is so you, you know? In a sense, it's reassuring." She blinks at him again but doesn't answer. "I am fine," he says with a smile. "Now, what about you?"
She shakes her head slowly, as if trying to get rid of an unpleasant thought and shivers. "I'm OK, I guess..." She looks down at her hands and registers the presence of the knife. She examines it as if she were seeing it for the first time.
"Why don't you put that down, love?" Rodney suggests, motioning for the marines to lower their guns. She's no threat to them now she's woken up from her transe. She nods and puts it on the table then looks at the Wraith sprawled at her feet. She gulps. "What happened here?" she wonders.
"That's what we'd like to know, Ma'am," one of the marines answers then adds hurriedly as he sees the look of apprehension she gives him: "Not that we're complaining. We're just curious."
"Why don't we go and sit in the hall?" Rodney suggests, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room while one of the marines stays behind and starts examining the place. Rodney can hear him report to Sheppard as they leave. He knows the 2IC must be torn at the moment between running to the infirmary to see Ford and getting to the mess hall to comfort Louise. He taps on his communicator. "Sheppard, this is McKay. She's OK. I'm taking care of things here. McKay out." John sighs in relief as he reaches the infirmary. Rodney sits Louise at one of the tables then turns to the marines. "Go make tea and while you're at it, find me candy or chocolate and her device to check her blood sugar level." He sees the man hesitate and huffs in frustration. "She's no threat now. Go, damn it!" The other man leaves relunctantly and Rodney sees him activate his headset as he goes, making sure Elizabeth or John back the decision Rodney has made. He rolls his eyes but couldn't care less.
He takes hold of her hands and finds them very cold so he rubs at them. Once she'll have a hot mug of tea to wrap her hands around, she won't feel so cold. What he's afraid of right now is her blood sugar level. She could have hypoglycemia and pass out or hyperglycemia in which case she might need insuline to lower the sugar level in her blood asap. Both options are possible in case of a fright like the one she must have had. He needs to check before giving her anything. "Rodney, this is Beckett. Respond." He rolls his eyes once more then checks his temper knowing Beckett couldn't know he's already onto it. "I'm on it, Dr Beckett. I'll call you as soon as she's tested it. Yes, I promise," he adds, hearing the good doctor telling him to take good care of her. As if, really! "McKay out," he says as he sees the marine coming back with the items he's asked for.
She wraps her hands compulsively around the warm cup and sighs in content. Rodney smiles at her but knows he must disrupt her peace for now. "Honey, I need you to do one little thing for me and then I'll let you drink your tea, OK?" She nods and unzips the small bag that holds her device and sets to work. Rodney sighs as he sees her level is not as bad as he had anticipated. He calls Beckett who tells him how much she needs and then pushes the bag of candy towards her. "Dr Beckett says it's time for a little treat." He winks at her and she starts eating slowly but doesn't seem to take pleasure in it. She looks forlorn. Rodney knows it's time to have a talk. He can see the second marine has joined them and is standing next to them expectantly.
"Want to tell me what happened down there?" Rodney asks motioning towards the kitchen area with his thumb. Her lips start to quiver. "Take your time," he adds hurriedly.
She glances at the marines then wraps her hands tightly around her cup once more. "I killed a living being, Rodney," she states in a breath. "I killed him and I don't think I'll ever be able to look at myself in a mirror. How could I?!"
She seems very upset. Rodney rounds the table and sits next to her then wraps his arms around her. He glares at one of the marines who sniggers and says: "Well, good job, Ma'am and good riddance. You should be proud of yourself for killing one of those blood-sucking monsters."
"He's right, honey, and you shouldn't beat yourself over it but I understand. Now, I'm sure you did it to protect yourself. Is it too early to tell us what happened?"
She starts shaking in his arms and he wraps them more tighly around her, rubbing gentle circles on her back with one hand. "Hush, love, it's OK. We're in no hurry."
"She doesn't need to tell us, Dr McKay, neither does Dr Beckett need to do an autopsy. It's plain obvious from the scene back there. I examined it closely. She threw scalding oil at the Wraith, probably several pots from the look of it. And then she finished him with the knife," one of the marines says. "I've already informed Major Sheppard. He's asking you to take her to the infirmary once she feels up to walking. He wants to make sure the bloodsucker didn't hurt her in any way."
Louise has shivered at the mention of the Wraith. She gently pushes Rodney away from her and stands, still holding her cup. "I'm ready to go." She laughs humorlessly. "It's a shame. I so used to love vampire stories..."
Rodney chooses to mock her to lighten the mood. "Yeah, well, only the sexy ones, right?" She smiles at him then retreats in her shell as they walk to the next transporter.
John welcomes them and wraps his arms quietly around her for a couple of seconds. "Are you OK?" he asks her. She nods quietly.
Elizabeth walks to her. "We're glad you made it, Ms Léger." It warms her heart to see all of them yet at the same time makes her anguish resurface, feeling guilty for not being true to her words and letting all these people into her heart.
Beckett reaches for her and gives her a hug. "Yes, we sure are, love. Now, I need you to come here," he orders, patting an examination table. Rodney discreetly heads for the door now he knows she's with friends and taps his headset. "Coming right back up to the Control Room," he informs the technician.
Meanwhile, Louise sighs but complies and lets Carson take her vitals. "Did we lose many people, Ma'am?" she asks Elizabeth, frowning with worry when she sees her hesitate.
"About forty," John simply says.
Her eyes fill with tears and Beckett's lips become a thin line. "Did you really need to tell her that?" he protests.
"Don't get aggravated, Dr Beckett. I would have been told in the end anyway," she chides him gently. He scowls. "What about your team, John? I don't see Teyla..." she realizes with a sense of foreboding.
"Teyla is OK, love," Beckett answers. "All done here!" he adds, helping her to her feet. "You're fine, considering..."
"How's Ford?" one of the marines who've come with Louise asks Elizabeth discreetly, or so he thinks, but it's already too late to repair the damage as he sees Louise turn her attention to their conversation.
"What's wrong with him?" she demands, her eyes wide.
"Let's say, honey, he didn't have pots of scalding oil to defend himself," Beckett winces. "If you'll excuse me, I need to attend to him." He disappears through a door at the back of the infirmary guarded by two marines armed to the teeth. Louise attempts to follow him but is stopped by John's curt voice: "No, you don't. Not until we know what to expect of him."
"But John, the kid must be scared and needs to be reassured by the presence of friends," she pleads.
"I said no," he replies. "If you want to help him, get him some dessert. When he feels better and can have it, it'll warm his heart." He sees her frown and elaborates: "I've been informed the kitchen has been cleared of the body and cleaned as best as we could in those circumstances. You might need to do a little bit more of cleaning yourself but it's basically safe and secure. Now, go," he orders her out and nods at one of the marines to escort her.
"Why did you send her back there?" Elizabeth asks, almost accusingly.
He feels like rolling his eyes but refrains from it. "She feels secure there, even after what happened, because it's her realm. I want her out of here if something gets awry with Ford and I'll be damned if I let her see the kid in that condition. It would be too much to take right now."
Beckett approaches them and explains what Ford's condition is at the moment now they have more results from the tests. The prospects and options they have to try and make him better are creepy but Elizabeth knows if there's one person who can help Ford, it's Beckett. She gives him the go ahead for the trial tests he needs to run. McKay calls them saying they need to get back to the Control Room.
She has left a whole tray for him in the infirmary but been told he's in no condition to eat or even see her yet. She's worried and on top of that, she's idle which she really hates, especially in a city full of people running everywhere to get ready for the next fight. She has set a whole buffet of cold food in the mess hall for the staff who can come anytime they want while they have a break and she's still got plenty of food left in the walk-in coolers. She feels useless and she hates every minute of it. She finally decides to go to the Control Room in the hope of getting Elizabeth's authorization to visit Aiden. She's also worried because John has left with the Deadalus. She feels like a mother hen, always wanting to have them where she can see them and take care of them – whatever that is because, let's face it, in spite of her latest stunt, she's no soldier.
She arrives in the Control Room at the worst time. They've just learnt the Deadulus couldn't stop the hives from reaching Atlantis and has suffered damage into the bargain. They're discussing strategy and do not see her. She does not approach Elizabeth's office but sits instead next to one of the technicians, looking embarrassed. He smiles at her. "You make great food, Ma'am," he says, before turning his attention back to his screen. "Especially the meatloaf, if I may say." She thanks him and relaxes a little and starts woolgathering about what she might cook in the days to come, chuckling inwardly at the concept that she's making plans for a future they might not even have.
She doesn't see him until he starts picking a fight in Weir's office and strangling Beckett and is whisked to the infirmary too fast for her to even talk to him. He looks awful and very agitated, somehow not the person she's come to dote on anymore.
Elizabeth orders her to come to her office and tries to calm her down as the tears can't seem to stop falling now. She hasn't cried when she killed the Wraith, hasn't really been that scared for her own well-being but now she's inconsolable.
When Ford steals a jumper a little later and disappears through the stargate, she shrugs off Rodney's hand on her shoulder as he tries to comfort her and heads for the kitchens without looking back. The image of Aiden's once youthful features haunts her as the last sight of him now replaces it – a cold and empty stare devoid of feelings as he looked right through her eyes - eyes that were silently pleading him to stay. All he did in return was avert his eyes and leave without so much as a parting word. She doesn't hear John state that they probably won't find him but she doesn't need to be told. The kid was lost to them the minute the Wraith plunged his hand into his chest.
TBC