A/N: ITTY bitty chapter for y'all this evening. Hope you enjoy!
"Medical and security teams to the jumper bay immediately."
The base-wide announcement jolted Emma from her already fitful slumber on Lacey's couch.
"Repeat, medical and security teams to the jumper bay immediately."
From the bed across the room, Lacey let out a low groan before rolling over and falling back to sleep. Emma, sobered by the announcement, sat up slowly as her fatigued brain registered the information.
The announcement had been made over the city-wide intercom, not through her earpiece. Only emergencies were broadcasted to the whole base, and if they had summoned a medical team, that meant someone was hurt.
Hadn't Eva and Ronon taken a jumper on their mission? Could they be back already? If they were, was an early return a good sign…or a bad one?
Fumbling in the dark until she found her glasses on the coffee table, she slipped them on and read the clock on Lacey's nightstand. It was a little bit past three in the morning.
She knew she shouldn't – she would probably get in the way of the medical professionals – but she couldn't just sit in both the literal and metaphorical dark, not knowing what was going on.
As quietly as she could, she put on her shoes and sweater, and left her friend's quarters.
She had barely made it ten paces out the door when another announcement sounded overhead; this time, a sense of panic betrayed the speaker's normally level tone.
"Engineering team to jumper bay immediately. Engineering team to jumper bay."
Apparently, things were even worse than she thought.
The smell of smoke reached her before she saw it. It wasn't the homey, natural smoke of burning grass or timber, but the acrid stench of melted plastic, with an almost fishy undercurrent. Electrical fire. It was unmistakable, and had burned long enough that it had seeped into the corridors leading to the jumper bay.
"Another extinguisher!" she heard someone yell.
By the time she entered the jumper bay, it was unrecognizable. The smoke was so thick, she could hardly see six feet in front of her, so she followed the sound of voices and the faint spray of sparks from what must have been a blow torch.
"You what?!" a voice that had to be Woolsey's shouted.
"I shot it off. Damn thing wouldn't retract. We had to think fast." This time it was Sheppard who spoke. "Didn't think it would seal the whole thing shut."
Emma stepped closer and the two jumpers came into view. Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, and a young lieutenant she only recognized by face were standing and conversing with Woolsey, none of them looking particularly worse for wear, while the medics lay in wait. That had to mean whoever needed the medical attention was in the other jumper.
Woolsey brought a finger to his ear. "Jumper 2, how's the temperature in there now?"
Emma couldn't hear the reply, but Woolsey looked significantly toward one of the combat engineers extinguishing the fire.
"Fire's almost out," he called, wiping his sweat-drenched brow. "How's that hatch coming?"
"Almost there!" another torch-wielding engineer replied. "Should be through the last of the melted metal in about thirty seconds."
"All right boys, get ready."
The voice that spoke made Emma's gorge rise, and she turned to see Captain Hanson already staring at her. For how long, she hated to wonder.
Of all things, he winked at her – which sent another ripple of nausea through her intestines – before he led his team to the rear hatch of the damaged jumper. The small contingent of marines aimed a mélange of semiautomatics and Wraith stunners at the door as it was pried open by the combat engineers.
The sight that met her eyes made her heart stop. There were bodies. Four of them, lined up on the floor of the cargo hold.
Two marines moved forward to clear the space.
"It's unconscious," one of them shouted as he looked back toward the others.
"Good," Woolsey said. "Do a full search of its belongings and take it to a holding cell. Keep it alive for now. If it resists, stun it again."
Emma stepped out of the way as the marines dragged the limp form of a Wraith soldier out of the bay. Hanson brought up the rear of the group and gave her one last, lingering look before disappearing down the dark corridor. Had the hairs on her neck not already been standing on end from the sight of the stunned Wraith and the dead bodies, he might have gotten further under her skin.
With the Wraith cleared out, the medical team moved in next, gingerly lifting body after body onto stretchers. One of the corpses still looked human and she was dismayed that she recognized him instantly. Lt. Patrick Coughlin. She hadn't known him well, but had tagged along on a couple missions with him. He had possessed a kind, paternal energy that she had always found comforting. Before realizing it, she crossed herself, hoping that even an empty gesture might be of some solace to his soul.
The other two bodies were nearly beyond recognition, but she could at least tell that they had once been a man and a woman. In a comically macabre way, their hair still flowed out the top of their desiccated skulls. The man had military-short brown hair, the woman – shoulder-length dark blonde. She cursed the tidal wave of relief that crashed over her, but there was no mistaking that neither of them were Ronon or Eva. She crossed herself again, this time in repentance.
"Jumper 2, you're clear to open the compartment door now," Woolsey said into his earpiece.
The door slid open to reveal Major Lorne leaning on Ronon in the cockpit, with Eva close behind them.
By this point, her mind had stopped working altogether and all she knew was to go straight toward them, heedless of the remaining medical personnel and engineers in her path. Ronon handed Lorne over to a nurse and waved another one off who tried to inspect him, so he could talk to Woolsey.
"Traditionally, I'd wait until the briefing to get the details of the mission, but this is a question I need answered at once," Woolsey began, looking up at Ronon. "Why, in God's name, have you brought a live Wraith back to the city?"
"Ma'am, you can't be here," one of the nurses told her as she gripped her shoulder.
"Please. I won't get in the way, I promise. I just need to –"
Woolsey and Ronon both looked in her direction at the sound of the dispute.
"She can stay," Woolsey called to them, before turning his attention back onto Ronon.
"We didn't have enough enzyme," Ronon answered, picking up the thread of their interrupted conversation, "and I wasn't about to let Coughlin, Miller, or Simpson die in vain."
Emma caught up to Eva and took the girl by the forearms. Her brow was dotted with sweat and she seemed dazed, a far off, disconnected look in her eyes. Emma inspected her for injuries, though a nurse had already done so, and found nothing. Not a scratch. The knife wound from her oath making with Ronon had begun to bleed, though, and was soaking through the bandage around her wrist.
"Are you okay?" Emma whispered.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," she replied, before bolting toward the nearest stack of cargo boxes.
Emma was on her heels, and caught her braids just in time before she retched onto the floor. She heard the conversation between Woolsey and Ronon continue, albeit muffled by the boxes they took refuge behind.
"And what do you propose we do with this Wraith?" Woolsey asked.
"Milk it until we have enough enzyme. Then kill it."
Eva finished throwing up and cautiously lifted her head.
Emma didn't know what else to do but hug her, so she folded the girl into a tight embrace and held her for a moment.
"Did the nurse give you the all clear?"
She felt the girl shake her head. "They think I might have a minor concussion. Getting the jumper through the gate was…an ordeal."
"Major Lorne didn't look too good."
Eva shook her head again. "Lorne was stunned. Only started to wake up once we were back in the city, waiting for them to put out the fire."
"So then…" Emma pulled back and held Eva out at arm's length to get a good look at her, "you flew the jumper?"
Eva nodded. "Some driver's license test, huh?" Her tone had lightened a bit, but the humor of her statement didn't quite reach the rest of her expression.
Emma stood in stupefied silence as she regarded the shell-shocked girl. What was there to say to that?
"Well," she cleared her throat, "if they need to monitor you in the infirmary, I should probably let them do that."
"Yeah," Eva whispered.
Eva allowed herself to be steered from behind the wall of boxes and back to the still very active situation near the damaged jumper. Emma passed her off to a nurse, who accompanied her out of the bay, surprisingly without protest. Emma made moves to follow, but Ronon's presence caught her eye.
Unlike Eva, who - aside from getting her bell rung - was practically in pristine physical condition, Ronon looked the very picture of war. A large laceration near his scalp was bleeding freely, trickling down his forehead and onto his eyelid. His nose, likely broken, was gushing blood onto the lower half of his face and into his mouth, staining his teeth bright red. Ruddy contusions had already started to rise to the surface of the skin on his arms and undoubtedly in other places she couldn't see. He walked a few paces so he could prop himself against the undamaged jumper, and Emma noticed the slightest limp in his left leg, though he disguised it well.
To see Ronon covered in blood was not an uncommon sight, but she had never seen him this battered. It was like he had taken every blow meant for him, but had weathered all of the attacks intended for Eva, too. He had done everything in his power to keep his word.
She should have been mad at him like she had been earlier in the day for even entertaining the idea of letting Eva go on this mission. Clearly, she had been returned safely, but what had this mission done to her psyche? Three of their people had died. How much of that had the girl witnessed?
Yet seeing him like this, battle worn and weary, stirred her deep to her core. Resolutely, she walked toward him and upon seeing her, he made moves to strand straighter, but she waved her hand, indicating it wasn't necessary.
His eyes shone a fierce light green in contrast to the sheen of blood on his face as they looked down at her, which caused the hair on the back of her neck and down her arms to rise. The heavy breath in his chest, rising and falling slowly, was the only sound between them as she contemplated him. An emotion she didn't recognize overtook her, sending tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back so he wouldn't see her cry. Instead, she placed a steadying hand over his heart, bent close to him, and gently kissed an unbloodied spot on his cheek.
When she pulled away, his face was impassive. Having said what she needed, she made it a few steps before he caught her hand in his. Surprised, she looked at him over her shoulder. His eyes were closed, but he squeezed her hand tight – just once – before letting go.
A/N: So...what'd ya think? :)