STARGATE ATLANTIS

Star Man – chapter 4

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It turned out that Ronon was a good driver which was a good thing as Rodney continued to work furiously on his device to find John. It had become obvious that someone high up in the plot to destroy Atlantis had also blocked any sub-q readings, so Rodney had been flying blind looking for him until Sam had managed to contact him again and told him about the details of the possible jet John had tried to commandeer; knowing who was on board.

"Oh, no!" Rodney suddenly said.

"Go on, Rodney." Teyla coaxed.

"He's down. The plane just came off the radar. Do you think they shot him down?" Rodney had that panicked look only he could do so well.

"I don't know, but we need to find that crash site before they do, Rodney. Come on, where did it go down?" Ronon growled.

"Hey, I'm as worried as you. Now just watched the road, and I'll find it."

"Please, calm down." Teyla leant forwards. "Are we still sure he is even in it?"

Rodney's shoulders fell. "I don't know for sure, but from what Intel Sam did manage to solicit from somewhere, and given the frantic chatter from Roswell that suddenly went quiet about that specific jet, it's the only explanation. Now, whether he was flying it, unconscious in it, or captive; who knows, but it's the only thing to go on."

"I didn't like the part about John being unconscious." Teyla said sadly.

"Yeah." Ronon said and risked a quick grimace towards Rodney before swinging his eyes back on the road.

"Well, the fact is with Richard dead, and Sam saying that John also thinks he is also poisoned, time is counting down very fast for him to be found safe."

"He will be weak and unable to fight back if he is poisoned." Teyla said.

"And not forgetting Carson. He was with Todd when they vanished also." Ronon still owed the Doctor for saving his life – always would.

"I just know John is with them." Teyla smiled softly.

Rodney raised his head up from tapping on his screen. "Yeah." He smiled also. "Fly boy saves the day yet again."

"Hope so, Rodney." And damn, but did Teyla not allow a single tear to fall up from the pool that had been collecting in her eyes.

Rodney saw it and grabbed her hand that had been holding on to the back of Ronon's seat and squeezed it. "You okay?"

"Thank you Rodney for your concern. I am very well. Just concerned that I might not see Carson and John again, especially, John …I …"

"Love him?" Ronon put out there.

Teyla ducked her head and wiped her face. "I love him, yes. I love you all."

"C'mon, Teyla." Ronon coaxed. "Sure you do. But I reckon you harbour special feelings for our missing Colonel!"

"Ronon! I'll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself." And promptly flung herself back into her own seat; arms crossed and looking out of the window at the speeding terrain.

Ronon and Rodney shared a quick smile but went back to their respective responsibilities, Rodney just catching Teyla sucking in her bottom lip in the refection on the glass and he felt a moments sorrow for her. Her reaction had been obvious. He sincerely hoped he could get Teyla back to John as soon as possible.

After a deafening silence of an hour or so, Rodney whipped his head up in a panic.

"Shit!"

Ronon stunned at the fast way he said it with concern, whipped his own head to look at him. "What is it?

At that moment, with no thought to the driver of the car, Rodney forcibly turned the wheel off the road and into an upcoming dirt track.

"What the hell Rodney...?"

"We've been found…they've got us!"

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John struggled silently on. The ground underneath was stony as they climbed the hilly land, small pieces of shale making the going incredibly uneven. Each step hurt his leg, made his head throb; the bright light of the day assaulting his senses. His stomach was so painful with his illness, it was like a hot blade continually stabbing him. He breathed out, he breathed in; it was about all he could do. He remembered that he had some pain killers in his pocket; cursing that his rucksack with more provisions had been left behind, but even when he grudgingly had to take them in view of Carson, they didn't quell the pain and nausea. Carson knew too, even though he was trying hard to deflect his worried glances his way. So he battled on, even allowing an elbow hold here and there from Carson without a word.

Todd, he noticed, was having difficulties of his own and observed that he matched him in hugging his stomach as if in great pain; although John was also cradling a broken wrist at the same time. John blinked his eyes against some fine dust a slip of Todd's feet had caused in the air, but they were still stubbornly refusing to focus. What surprised him next was that he was sitting on a boulder and Carson had one hand on his right shoulder and he seemed to be speaking to him. When had he sat down?

"John…"

Todd caught his eye and there was concern there. Damn! Great job he was doing in leading them to safety.

He waved his good hand. "I'm fine. Just needed a seat for a moment. Let's take ten, then, huh?"

"Are you OK?" Carson again.

John nodded. Not the best thing to do. He cringed and pushed shaking hands through his hair. He felt stickiness and brought his hand to his face to see the caked blood and then the pain in his face and leg announced their presence like a tsunami.

"Urgh…"

"What is it?"

"Hurts." He admitted.

Carson hunkered down beside him and grabbed his wrist, felt for his throat, checked the dressings on his face and finally put the back of his hand to his forehead. Through all of it John had his eyes closed. Thoroughly pained, sick and weary.

"Look, doc." He said through still closed eyes when he felt Carson sit down beside him. "I'm good. Just give me a minute to gather my strength." But John knew he couldn't sit any longer, however rough he felt. He needed to assess the lay of the land; perhaps even prepare to stay the night hidden until his team found him. He opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times; pleased this time his vision was back to normal. The water bottle was thrust into his right hand and he took a swallow, then shoved it back into Carson's hand for the same reason.

Carson looked up at Todd. "Your turn."

"I have no need."

Carson didn't push it and turned to his ill friend. "You have a fever. You really should be taking it easy and not pushing this poison on further at a faster pace."

John laughed. "Yeah, doc. Can't see a nice infirmary bed anywhere, can you? Sorry, shouldn't have snapped."

"Understandable given the circumstances, lad. I meant not to push yourself too hard on the walk. Take several stops if need be."

"There's nothing more to be said, Carson." And there wasn't. Carson, as a doctor meant well, but John knew his situation was serious.

So he stood up to walk again. Carson hovered but he managed on his own, only stumbling when he had to cough really hard at one point.

Nobody spoke as they set off further up the hillside. Here it was more stable under foot, but the climb was steep and took more energy and his leg nipped with a biting pain. He would run his hand around the wound when Carson wasn't looking, but he was pretty sure he knew anyway. The man had eyes on the back of his head.

The light was starting to fade as the hours receded, and John knew they had to find some sort of cover for the night. The dream of returning to the helicopter was never going to be achieved on the same day as leaving it earlier that morning.

Up until now they had all been silent with their thoughts as they walked, but John became increasingly aware of a conversation between Carson and Todd about Todd's love life. Something he had never considered before, John listened keenly.

"I cannot believe you have not seen your mate in years!" Carson said.

"It is my job to search the stars and planets for…"

"Food!" John quipped.

Todd turned with a snarl. "No, Shep-pard. I am actually, what you would say in your world, a scientist."

"A what?" John asked, pulled his arm to a halt.

"You heard correct the first time, although your word does not cover my rank accurately enough."

"But the hives! The fighting! You were always there."

"I am all of these things you think of me … but more than you do not know." He grinned wickedly at John for a second. "I could let you know subconsciously."

John put his good hand up and stepped away. "Don't even think it chum!"

"What's he meaning?" Carson asked.

"Seems our resident wraith here, can enter my mind and probe my brain into receiving information that I don't want."

"He, what?" Carson asked again.

John sighed but filled him in about the morning he had had curtesy of Todd. "But at least I had the information necessary to come and rescue you both, so for that I thank you, Todd. The residual pain of it – not so much!" John rubbed his head.

"Come on, lad. Sit down so I can check these bandages."

"Only after you let me check your shoulder." John put his good hand on his hip.

Carson squinted his eyes at him, but let John, one handed, pull his clothing to the side and then fasten him up again. "Just badly bruised." He reached into his pocket. "But still painful, so take these, please?" Holding out a couple he gave them to Carson with the water, before making a show of taking another two for himself to please the doc.

John looked at Todd as walking resumed and he scanned for a suitable place to stop. "So, can you communicate with your - mate?"

"If I am near enough. Being in a different galaxy makes that very awkward, would you not say?"

"Sorry." Carson said.

"So, you are the first wraith here on Earth. How does that make you feel?"

"Am I?" Todd said conspiratorially.

John stopped in his tracks. "This better be some sort of wraith sense of humour!" He coughed.

Carson put a hand on his back to steady him.

"I only mean I do not know. We are far reaching."

John and Carson looked at each other with horror.

"Nah." John dismissed the thought. "It would have been evident by now."

Silence fell between them again as they walked. This time everyone's brows were furrowed as they imagined all the worst things that could happen.

Finally, John spotted what looked like a good size opening between two slightly crooked and ancient trees. He walked over and looked in. It didn't go far as another large boulder was there, but the slight cold wind that had been whipping up did not penetrate inside, making it a nice place to huddle in for the night. It would fit all three of them with enough freedom that they were not touching.

John limped over to Carson and Todd; his leg wound right now but making itself known.

"Let's hole up here. I don't think any one of us can go on any further."

Todd flung down the coats. Carson grabbed an individual one and draped it over John's shoulders, to which John went to do the same to Carson. "I'll sit on mine just now I think. I'm quite warm from the walk."

"Fine." His voice sounded tired and hoarse from all the coughing he was going through.

John dug deep into his own jacket and produced two power bars. "I feel sick at the thought of one of these, but we'd better eat. Todd – I do have another. Can you eat that?" He grimaced, expecting the answer.

"It will do nothing for me."

John shrugged. His statement shouldn't bother him, but it did. He didn't mean for him to die a death of hunger.

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Night sounds overcame hard breathing as John relaxed into a slight sleep. He could not get comfortable, though, sitting in in the middle of a wraith and Carson. He still didn't one hundred percent trust the wraith not to harm them if they slept too deeply, so excusing himself, he stepped out from their hiding place and walked a few paces until he sat down on another large boulder and hugged his wrist to his abdomen. It throbbed continually, and truth be known, he couldn't handle much else happening to him right now, so when Todd came to sit on the ground beside him with a strange expression on his face, John wearily clenched his right fist.

"Todd?"

"I came out to see your stars, Shep-pard. Tell me their names."

John looked up. When had it gotten dark? John shivered and pulled the coat around him better to ward off the cold.

"I'm not sure if I…" he faltered.

"Can?"

"Should." John said flatly.

"Ah." Todd understood finally. He knew Shep-pard did not want to betray his planet of any information about it.

"Then, tell me this. Were you born to fly the stars, Shep-pard?"

John cocked his head. "No. Not born. Chose to, though." He looked up. "I have always loved to fly. Just had no idea that I would end up doing so in another galaxy mind you."

"Hmm."

"So, science, huh? How does that work?" Carson, hearing their conversation, came out to join them.

"Much like you, Doctor Beckett, I enjoy the solving of problems. So I research the stars and planets for our great leader and they decide if we should target there."

"Goodness, for food?" Carson shivered.

Todd sighed. "Not necessarily. For different reasons – minerals, etc. that we need for our hives."

John put up a hand. "Stop, just stop there. I don't really care, or want to know" He then went into a coughing fit he could not get out of, and flailed about on his knees until an almighty slap on his back from Todd produced the phlegm he needed to come up his throat. He spat it out, and sweating, moaned into his chest not moving.

Carson knelt beside him and kept a comforting hand on his shoulder until he felt him suddenly start to keel over: quite unconscious.

Keeping panic at bay, Carson checked him out. The examination did not show good results.

"He is worse." Todd stated, unusually shaken by John's trauma.

Carson nodded. "He cannot go on. These bastards poisoned him with goodness knows what; and now with his injuries…."

"And yet, these are your people."

Carson looked at him. "And you don't have warring between yours?"

"I would say from experience that nowhere near as much as your world is at war with each other."

Carson cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting." He bent and manoeuvred John into a more comfortable position on his right side and sighed as he noticed his leg wound was bleeding through the only bandage he had. He put his hand on it and it was warm, hence the fever. He could only leave it be – and his face – for now having nothing else to replace them with.

Todd suddenly doubled up and as Carson looked at him in alarm he waved him off. He watched Todd look at his hand that had been hovering over his wound. It was wet. The wound had opened up and was bleeding again in that sickly wraith colour that was so unique a sight.

"What does this mean for you?"

Todd moved to lean on the boulder behind him and stretched his legs out, once again looking at the stars, saying nothing. Blood seeped from his abdomen now at an alarming rate.

His silence was unsettling. Carson sat down also and looked up to see where Todd's eyes seemed to be transfixed.

A streak of white across the now dark sky was the subject of his fascination.

"It's a shooting star." Came John's rough voice.

Both Todd and Carson were glad he was once again awake. Carson helped him sit up and leant him back to the hard rock, settling the coat around him as best he could. He smiled and sat down beside him, patting his knee.

John coughed. "Can't say I've ever seen one in Pegasus."

"No. We do not have these." Todd coughed, groaned, and grabbed his stomach.

"Are you okay?" John was concerned now. Todd's already pale features were almost translucent.

"Your night sky is truly beautiful. I would have loved to have flown in the stars here."

It was the melancholy in his voice that halted anything sarcastic or unhelpful, John might have said.

He was dying in front of his eyes.

John looked at Carson and understood that he had realised this also. There was nothing either of them could do about it.

"You would have found it a beautiful place, I think."

That interested Todd. "You think?"

John coughed and then laughed. "I have never flown in the stars on my own world. How weird is that?"

Todd laughed. "I hope you can one day, John Shep-pard. You are at home in the stars…like myself."

"Star Man." Carson laughed.

John corrected him. "Star Men!"

"Indeed."

"It even fits the markings on your face. Why are your markings that way, anyway?"

Todd slowly raised his arm to touch his face in jerky movements. "My tribe." His voice sounded weaker to Carson's ears, and John's too obviously as he leaned towards him. "My family, you would call it."

"You all have the same markings?"

"Similar. One of the things about us you didn't know."

"Thanks for sharing, Todd. Todd?"

The wraith's head had fallen to his chest and his left hand weakly curled and uncurled.

Not daring to move; unsure as to what was happening with Todd, John and Carson watched him silently for a few minutes, waiting to hear more from him about his family.

Finally, he seemed to wake again and once again looked to the stars, whispering "Star Man" over and over again.

"Mercury, Venus, Mars – to name just a few."

Todd looked at John.

"Planets. That's the name of some of the planets you are looking at." John said wistfully, suddenly feeling sad. He concentrated on the wraith and then felt a familiar buzzing in his head. He was unware of Carson trying to get a reaction out of Todd and John for several minutes.

"Do not feel sorry for me John Shep-pard." He somehow heard. "I have had a long life and fulfilled many, if not more, of my missions and purposes. I only regret that I did not get to see my mate once more."

"That must be hard."

"You must take the time to have a mate. It can be very … rewarding in many ways!" He laughed.

John could not help but laugh back in his own mind. Strangely conscious of the fact that this would have hurt his stomach in the 'real' world.

"I believe that to be the case."

Todd smiled and put his head back. "I will miss my galaxy, my stars, but I have seen things you would not believe. Known and accomplished things a human would not understand, but for me it has been an honour. I die, today, knowing my life has had purpose. That is what a wraith wants in life.

Silence.

John, I have not long now …and I need to ask you a favour, yes?"

"Go on." John almost gulped as he finally understood this was his last wish.

"Take me home like you promised. Take me home and release me into the stars where I belong. Don't let me be a subject for your scientists."

John bit his top lip and suddenly felt a wave of relief as the crushing pressure of Todd's mind left him abruptly.

"I will." He promised out loud; suddenly back in reality with Carson shaking his shoulder.

"Will, what?" Carson asked, not understanding.

But John was intent on watching Todd's hand fall from his side onto the ground.

"He's away." He whispered. "Todd has died." John was unsure of what he was feeling as he watched the deceased wraith's body stay in position on the ground; never to move again or share the look the two of them had been unable to identify in the short period of time they had known each other.

Carson looked at Todd strangely, but tentatively made his way over to the wraith and felt how cold he was as he shook him first gently then more vigorously. His body fell to the side, quite dead.

"He was too hungry and lacked the regenerative power to fully restore himself. He didn't want to feed on us, Carson."

"My god!"

Carson knelt in front of John. "Were you two doing that 'speaking' thing again? I couldn't raise either of your two attentions for a while."

John slowly nodded, still watching Todd. "He told me things. More things than I understood, really. He wants to go home. I promised I'd take him home." Suddenly John grabbed Carson's arm. "If anything happens to me, Carson. Carry my promise forward, please?"

Carson had never seen John so distraught, it was upsetting to see. "What is the promise, John? I'll do it if I can, you know that."

John nodded. "He wants to go home. Back to the stars. I promised him I would take him. We can't let anybody get their hands on him. No-one must tear him apart, Carson. Do not let Roswell experiment on the body."

"I will do all I can." Carson said, meaning it.

"We must hide him for now. There is no way we could carry him tomorrow."

"Where?"

John looked about him. "Where we were just minutes ago will have to do. It's a hidden enough space. We can cover what we can with a jacket…"

"And perhaps some of these smaller stones?" Carson said, picking up a sample, of which there were loads littered about.

"Together!" John nodded, and warned. "You'll hurt your shoulder if you pick up any that are too large."

"Oh, and you can talk!" Carson responded in kind.

"Yeah, yeah. Yadda , yadda." But they both stood and completed the chore until they were satisfied with the impromptu grave.

John staggered on the last rock, and Carson called time, sitting John down again with a barely contained concerned look. "John."

John hung his head. "I'll rest. I'll rest. You too."

Carson did sit down beside him and they pair of them looked at where Todd was hidden. Finally Carson could stand it no longer. "I will miss him in a strange way. You?"

Would he? What was he feeling about a wraith that had virtually been forced to torture him with great pain whilst feeding on him until it brought him to his death, then restore him and continually toy with him mentally for years until this present day? But, he had been an ally in the end. A huge one. A measure of trust had been gained on both sides. Their relationship had been immeasurable; nothing on earth – literally – to base it on. So would he miss him?

"Yeah. I'll miss him. Is that odd?"

"No." Carson was definite in his reply which pleased John somewhat. "You had a unique relationship that nobody else could have had with the man; well wraith. You should be proud of how you handled yourself with him, and how you let him interact with us. I know you always watched his every move with a hand on your side arm; but I don't think you believed he would ever harm us – and you know what, John; he never did."

John was nodding his head and even feeling emotional, so he couldn't answer Carson, frightened he would lose control of his voice.

The two sat until dawn was starting to break. One occasionally dozing, until the other took over watch for a few minutes. On John's next watch, he felt he should rise and figure out his next step.

The sky above was tinged with morning pink; replacing the pin pricked black velvet of night. John looked to the sky and heard the lonely sound of a single engine plane just fly gently above his head. He loved the almost empty sound and longed to be up there in it: just he and perfect solitude, but soon they would be discovered. They had to get to that helicopter he had hid– and soon.

Reluctantly shaking Carson awake, John grimaced at a sharp shot of pain that ripped down his spine and made him dizzy. He hurriedly took a swig of water and avoided the good doc's eyes as they burrowed into him. Carson, for his part, bit his lip, but left the man to come to his senses – but once he had him in the infirmary, he was going to smother medical attention on him until he was well again. Carson smirked at the thought of him complaining to leave.

"Care too share?" John asked, hand on hip.

"Nothing." Carson said, grimacing himself as he stood up and his shoulder complained.

John raised an eyebrow. "Ah, huh!"

"Cheeky bugger. C'mon, let's move."

Carson took some of the water himself; dismayed there was hardly anything left, and they both shared the last of the pain killers: mild as they were.

"Carson?"

"John?"

"Been meaning to ask. Any ideas what I've been poisoned with? I Mean…"

"I've been thinking about it myself, your symptoms and how quickly it's taken hold. But without tests, I obviously can't diagnose what it is. How are you today?"

"Same."

Carson grabbed his arm to stop him from walking for a minute and looked him in the eye. "I will figure it out…"

"Carson, stop right there. Richard died from this quite quick after I was talking to him. I…" John stopped talking suddenly as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he got a prickly feeling go down his spine. He spun around, searching the land ahead, and then changed direction up to the sky.

The gently droning noise of earlier when dawn was breaking, now changed into the 'whoop, whoop' of a four blade, twin engine helicopter sound: one John was well familiar with.

"Black Hawk, Run with me Carson!"

Adrenalin lent the two men the boost they needed to quickly run into a dense area of more of the twisted trees. Gone was the pain of their wounds and sickness; although momentarily. John guided Carson down at one point with a firm hand on his injured shoulder to stop the momentum of him falling forward. He could see sweat bead on his forehead with the exertion of the quick sprint, and his body shake with terror. He knew he probably looked terrible in Carson's eyes also, but he ignored the worried look he gave him and went down into a crouch, walking that way through some denser materials and looking behind him to see if Carson was keeping up ok; knowing this must have been painful to the man's shoulder.

The wind that shook the trees announced the arrival of the chopper; whipping up years of dust and stones that battered them and caused them to shield their eyes whilst trying not to move too much and give up their positions: thanking all the while the 'bad guys' for their camouflaged coats that they still wore.

John knew by the engine that it was slowing down; knew that men could be lowered down near their position and either capture them or kill them on site. He still wasn't sure if Carson was a person of interest to them, or someone to get rid of now, but he did know he was a Colonel in name only today, and if the poison wasn't going to kill him, they were.

John held Carson's gaze for a moment and wiped the sweat off his forehead. His enemy; pain, decided in that moment to fold him double and he bit his lip with the urgency of holding in a scream. Carson was on him like a shot, like of the very guns they were avoiding.

"John? Colonel?" He whispered whilst he covered his back with his good arm. He pushed his hand down John's collar and felt the erratic beat. "What is it? What's wrong?"

John could not uncurl, the pain that was currently raging across his stomach and chest took his breath; his ability to speak. His mind churned with a montage of Richard Woolsey when he had been alive that last day he had been with him, Todd: snarling as his hand had been placed on his chest to feed that first day he met him; of his friendships with Rodney, Ronon and Teyla, and lastly, of Carson, live and real trying to help him as he was presently.

"Hard…to…breath…uh, such pain…keep still…Carson…don't move, or we …are…uh…dead."

"I know, son. I hear them. I'm here. Try and breathe through the pain low and slow. Breathe out and in."

"I'm not giving… birth…Carson!"

Carson squeezed his shoulder, and held on to his bandaged face that bothered him so much he could tell, but never moaned. "Still got humour – good. It'll help you through it." He whispered as the air bird circled above their heads.

"Crap. Somehow they have made us."

John was in slow motion now as he twisted up and somehow grabbed Carson's body, spinning him around and down, so that his body covered him, just as a spray of gunfire 'ppft' from above peppering their immediate area with quiet deadly casings meant to kill; not harm. Guess John had his answer now.

He shifted back as the intended bullets narrowly missed them. Carson hung onto the arm with the broken, splinted wrist, which was now mobile again with the need to move fast without being hindered. John bit down the pain, just pushed the bushes aside; gathering new scrapes as they ran, hoping to see something; anything that would aid them or hide them – and then he did. And it was almost comical in a way as they ran near several caravans of 'alien' hunters camped out for the night in the hope of seeing a U.F.O, and that were now rousing after hearing the helicopter come near.

This was still Roswell after all.

John would have laughed if it hadn't been so serious. These guys would have loved what he had hidden several miles back. Still, they might be in danger, so John and Carson skirted them as best as they could without being seen; grateful it was still early morning.

It had been enough. The Black Hawk had backed off – probably not wanting to cause a scene that would have been very difficult to explain and hide from so many there. John and Carson slowed their run and finally collapsed at the edge of a lake; hands skinned on small stones as they fell down on their knees, breathless to slowly drink from the water's edge.

On his stomach and not moving, John looked too still and unmoving. Carson gently called his name and then pulled him up and lent him against his chest when he realised he had fallen unconscious again. He could hardly blame him, the heat was pouring from him and his coat felt damp against his.

Carson decided to move him; even with his bruised shoulder.

He stood, and placed an arm under each of his armpits and pulled him the short distance to some scrub, covered with heavily leafed bushes that he hoped kept them hidden from those above.

His hand on John's face came away damp with streaks of blood from his various wounds. His skin was warm; too warm. His breathing seemed laboured and his sleep was unnatural. Carson breathed out and hoped for some help soon. Because he didn't think John had much longer to live.

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To be continued…