Chapter 26: The Cavalry

Seeing Major Davis walk through the gate with another captain in tow – compliments of General O'Neill – was a relief. John knew he would be able to not only offload most of the responsibilities onto Major Davis, but also that his role in the ongoing investigation would be merely as facilitator. He wouldn't have to question his men. He wouldn't have to carefully cover up Alex's involvement with lies on top of lies. And best of all, General O'Neill would be taking care of the earth-side court martial – if it got that far.

John had a feeling the military career of the entire unit was going to come to a very abrupt end. And it wouldn't be a pretty process.

The captain split off from Major Davis, immediately following Carson down the halls – hopefully he was the specialist the Mitchell had all but promised. That would be good.

John stepped down the stairs going to greet him. "Welcome to Atlantis, Major."

He looked slightly wide eyed, neck craning to take in the room. "It's a little more impressive in person, sir." He straightened as John approached, and snapped off a quick salute. "Sorry to be here under these conditions."

John smiled ruefully. For anyone to be here under these conditions was bad enough. "Right, I'll show you to an office." Woolsey had been lurking in the background during the dial in, and John wasn't about to give him an opening when Davis had just walked in. He deserved a bit of a warning. "You got the gene?"

"No, sir," he sounded slightly regretful. "And the gene therapy didn't stick either. 100% pure human, I guess."

With little fanfare, John whisked him away from Woolsey's clutches and down the hall toward the transporters. "Well, don't go wandering too much then. I'll assign someone to make sure you get around okay." Because the last thing he needed was to lose Major Davis in Atlantis. General O'Neill would hunt him down. That would be almost as bad as losing Dr. Jackson…

John punched a button on the transporter, bringing them closer to the office he – Lorne, really – had picked out. There was little desire for chitchat as they made their way to the office, John waving his hand over the door sensor, before motioning for Major Davis to place his hand on the sensor. "Once you imprint it, it'll let you in automatically. I'll key it so no one else can get in." Because keeping all the documents secure and away from any possible miscarriages of justice charges was a priority.

Davis pressed his hand against the sensor, then raised an eyebrow in John's direction. "You've thought this through."

John shrugged. "Had a couple hours to review the UCMJ. I'm not about to let some bad eggs walk because of mistakes we made."

Davis entered the room, setting his briefcase down on the desk, before circling around to look at the stacks of paper already present. "You all have been busy." There were the preliminary interviews and records of reading the Article 31 rights to each of the marines. Printouts of the screenshots Zelenka had made of Alex progressing through the base, along with the records of the missing security cameras. Zelenka hadn't managed to hunt down the person who had wiped them yet, but he had said he was getting closer.

John sincerely hoped that it wasn't someone else on the city.

"I have a secure message from O'Neill for you." Davis opened up his briefcase and pulled out an envelope. "And he also says, what the hell." He grinned slightly.

John took the letter, and then, trusting that it wasn't too confidential, opened it under Davis' watchful eye.

It was short and to the point, much like O'Neill.

Sheppard,

The cover story is holding. Walter intercepted a possible message to the IOA with a leak. Known Trust member recently elected to IOA. Have McKay monitor that data stream carefully. Paul is well versed in working with cover stories. We'll make sure those bad apples are punished.

O'Neill

Perfect. Now they had a Trust member on the IOA. And John had little doubt where that leak was coming from, if the latest data burst was anything to go by.

Woolsey.

"Based on what General Mitchell passed along, we're going with assault with grievous bodily harm. Potentially aggravated. And accessory after the fact, for the others." Davis settled down in the chair, waving John into the one opposite the desk. "The difficulty here is that they'll undoubtedly want to lawyer up."

And there was no way that lawyers were going to be allowed onto Atlantis. Which meant that real questioning was going to have to wait until they were all transferred back to the SGC. Then, whatever lawyers were deemed cleared by the SGC would be allowed in. They were going to be lucky if the NID didn't find some way to get themselves involved.

"Have you been able to question Alex at all?"

"No." He had stopped by the infirmary several times, but Alex had either been incoherent or unresponsive. "We know he left his quarters voluntarily, but… Private Martins, who was his escort that night, was unable to provide any potential motive. Aside from an altercation with Jamison in the halls reported by Private Diver, earlier that day."

Davis poked through some of the papers and screenshots. "You know, once this all blows over, you might want to think about using him in some training drills." He paused on the screenshot where Alex had all but disappeared. "He's skilled, or MI6 would've never used him, so he might find that type of training fun. It's a spy thing."

John raised an eyebrow. "Know a lot of spies?"

Davis just grinned mysteriously. "I know enough to know the type. They like to be challenged." He tapped the image, where just the faintest silhouette of Alex was visible in the otherwise dark background. "And I'd almost bet he's used something similar to the LSD before."

There was that. He had adapted to the technology seamlessly. Though they were stills, John had no doubt that Alex had moved incredibly quickly through parts of the city he was completely unfamiliar with.

"Are there reports on his injuries in here?" Davis shuffled through the stacks of papers again.

"Should be. Both the official and unofficial ones."

He paused. "Unofficial?"

"Some items were determined to be sensitive in nature. Possible history with a sarcophagus, sensitive." John tipped his head in a knowing manner. "Extent of injury modified slightly. No shrapnel or bone fragments, but rather a slipped disc. Or something." He waved it off, because even he didn't completely understand the jargon Carson used sometimes.

Davis plucked a file out of the pile, and flipped it open. "Ah… yes that would be, difficult to explain." He glanced up at John. "And the Atlantis version of the cover story hasn't changed in the past two weeks, correct?"

"No."

"Yourself, Dr. McKay, Dr. Beckett, Major Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, and Dr. Zelenka are the extent of the individuals who know the true story?"

"Dr. Florence was informed of some of it when it became clear that Carson, Dr. Beckett, wasn't comfortable going through with surgery." Of course, if he had just waited another hour or so, Dr. Florence wouldn't have needed to be included. He just hoped Carson was right that they could trust her.

"Well, along with Captain Morray they should be able to come up with a treatment plan." Major Davis leaned back in his chair. "Really, I'm here stalling for time while they get Alex sorted out. There's not a whole lot I can do, without lawyers present. I'll interview possible witnesses – what are you doing with Private Martins?"

"Official reprimand." And really, that had been after long consideration. He hadn't truly deserted his post, after all, he was still within shouting distance of Alex's door. Distracted, definitely. John figured that a couple of rough shifts might be a rude awakening and motivate better responses. And if it didn't, the Daedalus was going to be coming in just a few short months. Martins was almost certainly going to be on it.

Major Davis nodded, seeming to agree with the plan. "I'll try not to ruffle too many feathers." He cast a careful eye over the papers and notes. "It'll probably be at least two hours before I'm fully up to speed. Could you send someone down around then?"

John nodded, then pulled out an extra earpiece and radio. "Keep it on channel 18. It'll come directly to me, if you need anything." He wasn't about to have Woolsey interfering with this. "Oh, and watch out for Woolsey. He's been… a little peeved about Alex's existence here."

Major Davis took the earpiece and nodded toward the letter in John's hands. "Your leak?"

"Unfortunately, probably." John pushed to his feet, turning to leave the room. "Just be… careful about what you say around him. He's… not currently a big fan of O'Neill."

Major Davis gave him a knowing smirk. O'Neill was only mildly fond of Woolsey – and that had been before any of this had happened.

Politics.

The worst, when it invaded his city.

John had gone back to his office to stew in his command decisions for an hour, before Teyla had showed up at his door and all but demanded he come for training. Working out some of his frustration with the bantos rods had been pleasantly exhausting, but he couldn't help but track the similarities between the official training rooms and the makeshift one they had found in Sector J. And it wasn't the only one.

His distraction had earned him a couple of sharp whacks from Teyla, but no more than usual.

After checking in with Major Davis – he had gone to interview Master Sergeant Braxley and their team, who had been the first response to Lorne's medical emergency – John showered and headed down to the infirmary to see what, if any, progress had been made there.

An all but ecstatic Carson met him at the door, who steered him away from Alex's bed almost immediately and into his office. "I don't know why we didn't think of it."

John glanced out the door, trying to get an eye on the bed. "Think of what?"

"Spinal nerve block." Carson clapped his hands together. "Reduces his pain significantly and we were able to lower the painkiller to a much more reasonable level."

"And…?"

"Alex is awake, coherent to an extent, and well, slightly grumpy at all the fuss." He all but pushed John into the chair. "Captain Morray is just reviewing with him what the next steps will be."

Well, that was one problem solved. "Next steps?"

"Decompressive surgery to remove the fragment. Risks. More scans. Most of the shrapnel will have to stay behind, there's just too much, but none seem positioned to cause further injury. Recovery over the next couple of weeks. That sort of thing." He fixed John with a stare. "He is legally a consenting adult, after all."

Right.

Then it was better that he understood it all.

John was pretty sure at least one of the great weights had lifted off his shoulders.

"But now you've got to talk to him about the sub cue."

John groaned. Because that was not a conversation he had been looking forward to. At least so far it seemed that coherency hadn't reignited Alex's apparent paranoia around doctors and needles. Perhaps it was more situational – though there hadn't been any sign in any of the reports about his history for why medical procedures made him anxious.

"I'm pretty sure he'll agree to it, so long as you explain the importance."

"He knows the importance." John had explained in detail why Alex wouldn't be permitted off world without it. And Alex had accepted that without question.

"No, he doesn't know the importance for here on Atlantis," Carson said, patiently. "His safety in the city is only enhanced when we're able to track him. And Rodney has it all locked down so tight that only certain members of command can get into those codes."

John let his head drop forward. "Then why don't you convince him. Sounds like you've already got it thought out."

Carson laughed. "Hah. He hardly trusts me. He watches me when I give him tea, like I've poisoned it or something."

"You've had tea with him?" Because that was something John wasn't sure he could wrap his mind around. Carson going out of his way to… bond with a teenager.

"Figured a little bit of trust would be a good thing if something ever happened." Carson shrugged. "It just happened a wee bit sooner than I expected." His expression turned gentle once again. "But he trusts you. He followed you to another planet with nigh on little information. And then followed the rules for an impressive number of weeks, given his history, all because you said so. He respects you."

John wrinkled his nose at that. They had just been thrown together by fate. Chance that he had passed by in the exact moment that Alex had tried to escape. Chance that John had thought to follow up on something that he just felt was suspicious in his gut.

A series of coincidences that had ended them here.

"Colonel Sheppard, it's an honor." The doctor, Captain Morray, appeared in the doorway. He looked to be on the younger side, but was obviously skilled enough to be employed by the SGC. "Alex was wondering if you were around."

Carson just beamed, then all but pulled John out of the chair. "Go on, then. He must be feeling alive if he's asking for you." He gave him a gentle shove toward the doorway. "Oh, and ask if I have his permission to include his blood work in the gene database. We're always looking for strong expressions."

John rolled his eyes. Of course Carson had ulterior motivations for buttering him up with words of trust and respect. He nodded in Morray's direction, before crossing the room and slipping behind the curtains that blocked Alex's bed off from the rest of the infirmary.

He looked much the same as he had before, this time rolled onto his side with about a dozen monitors and wires poking out at various locations. The bruises were a stark contrast to his pale skin, but he didn't quite look like death warmed over anymore. A glance at the bedside monitor showed that he still had a fever, but John was sure it was all well under control.

Surely more people would be hovering if he wasn't.

He settled into the bedside chair, crossing into Alex's field of view, and they just stared at each other for a long moment.

John wasn't sure what he was supposed to say.

"Dr. Beckett said I really fucked myself up this time," Alex said with little preamble.

John raised an eyebrow. That seemed… uncharacteristically blunt from Carson.

"Well, okay, not is those few words. But…" He wiggled his fingers experimentally. "Can't feel my toes anymore, so I know it's bad."

John opened, then closed his mouth, not quite sure what to say to that. It didn't matter, because Alex just continued.

"I mean, definite improvement over like… fire in my veins. But you know, kinda creepy too…" He trailed off, eyes sliding out of focus, before seeming to reregister John's presence. "I asked if I could have the bullet. They didn't let me keep the last one."

Given how the last one had narrowly missed his heart and then sling shotted out the side – according to the latest batch of reports brought through by Davis – John wasn't too surprised they hadn't let him keep it. It had probably broken into too many fragments.

Alex made a movement, as if to roll over on his back, before deciding – probably appropriately – that that was a bad idea. "If they screw up, I'll probably be paralyzed. And then they'll send me back to the SGC anyway. And the Trust will get me, like, two months later than scheduled."

"They're not going to send you back." Even if something happened, John was going to fight that tooth and nail. There were still goa'uld healing devices. Someone had to still have the ability to work one of those. Or Rodney would unearth something in the Ancient archives.

They were due another major discovery sometime soon, anyway.

Ancient outpost, notwithstanding.

Others had survived worse. Hell, Mitchell had survived worse.

"Tha'd be nice. I like it here."

John couldn't help but smile at that. "Good." He wasn't about to admit the bit of misgiving he had had, taking a teenager from earth on to the city. But so far, it had been good. Well, up until he had decided to go off gallivanting.

"The city is all warm and fuzzy. Likes me. Well… most people." Alex frowned, face growing serious. "Others not so much."

And boy, was John tempted to ask questions. But he was here with a purpose. Interrogation could wait for a day when Alex wasn't quite so… high. "Which is why we try to keep you safe from the others." John hesitated, then leaned forward. He wasn't so good with segueing conversations. "You remember the discussion we had about the subcutaneous implants?"

Alex nodded seriously. "Required for off-world travel. Only Rodney and Dr. Z have access to the programming – but between you and me, he really needs to protect it with a hexadecimal analogue, rather than a binary factorial."

John blinked, then just carried on as if he had any idea what Alex had just sprouted off. "Well, there are benefits to having a subcutaneous transmitter while on Atlantis as well. The life signs sensors cannot pick out individual people, but Rodney has an interface that records movements around the city utilizing the sub cue and life signs sensors, so we can—"

"—pinpoint the location of a person of interest." Alex nodded, as if it made sense. And well, it did, but John was a little surprised that he picked it up while still being… high. "I bet it helps with response times. You know exactly where someone is, within the city. Not all the time, just when it's needed. Huh…"

"Exactly." Maybe the drugs just made it all make more sense to Alex. "Which is why I'm thinking that it's about time you got yours."

"Then you would know what happened." It was rather matter of fact. Alex's eyes drifted over John's shoulder for a long moment, before refocusing on him. "Don't the security logs show what happened?"

He seemed rather unperturbed by it all.

"The logs were… modified." John said carefully. They were technically in a public venue. And while the infirmary staff had so far been rather quiet about Alex's presence, John wasn't sure that would stretch to encompass juicy bits of gossip about the ensuing investigation. "And while we've been able to piece together a lot of things, I don't really want to have to go through all this again."

Alex's face fell. "Sorry," he said, quietly.

Aw, hell. "It's not your—" fault. Well, it was. Sort of. He had made the decision to leave his quarters. But it didn't mean he deserved any of it. "Listen, we just want you to be able to move around the city a little more freely. And think, once you've healed up a bit, you'll be able to visit some other planets." There, dangle the adventure in front of him.

Alex nodded, still looking morose. "For the best, then." He itched at his arm, just above the IV port. "Still shouldn't have gone out."

John couldn't help a smile at that, relieved that he had at least gotten Alex to agree to that. "No, you really shouldn't have."

"There was just so much… So I figured why not? Not like Atlantis stopped me. Just let me— And it was okay, they knew things, I knew things, but then… He just got… so mad. That I beat him. It wasn't as fun then…" Alex trailed off, hand scratching harder at his skin. "Thought I was going to die. But, shh, can't tell. That transporter was a long ways away."

John bit his lip, sharp enough to taste blood. That implied… a lot. That there had been more. He dearly wanted to make Jamison have a taste of his own medicine. If they could get Alex to testify, or at least, share his side of the story, there would a pretty convincing argument for aggravated assault. And accessory to assault for everyone else in the unit, since they had left Alex behind.

Injured.

Likely, clearly in pain.

He couldn't even imagine doing that to someone he didn't like. Maiming them, and then just leaving them. They had no way of knowing when Alex would ever get medical care. When someone would notice that he was missing.

Perhaps Jamison had just planned to blame it on some other entity. Had pretended that turning in the life signs detector was his way of creating an alibi.

"Alright, it's okay." John reached out, grabbing Alex's hand that was scratching red marks into his skin. "We'll deal with all that, once we get this surgery over." Because, really, that's all they could do at this point. Take it one step at a time.

"Okay," was Alex's soft response. His breathing started to even out and, in a few minutes, it appeared he had fallen asleep again. John waited until he was sure Alex was asleep, then released his hold on his wrist.

After a few more minutes, John got up and went back to Carson's office.

"He fall asleep on you?" Carson asked, hardly looking up from whatever report he was scrolling through with Morray.

"Yeah, after he babbled a bunch and, you know, confessed his sins and whatnot."

Carson snorted, then glanced up at John's serious expression. "Did he really?"

"He went… wandering. And then, something happened. Jamison and his team left him, injured and more or less immobile." John clenched his fists, resisting the urge to punch anything. "And we can't for certain pinpoint the bastard there, because Alex doesn't have a sub cue." He blew out a long breath, at the frustration of it all.

The case would be open and shut if they just had proof they were in the same room. They could only hope that one of Jamison's unit would roll during the interrogation and save them some work.

"And that'll be remedied," Carson said, definitively. "I'm assuming he said yes."

"Yeah…" John scrubbed a hand through his hair. The headache had returned. "Then proceeded to freak out because apparently Jamison told him not to tell." It was like every warning he had ever seen about abuse.

It's a secret.

Keep quiet.

Don't tell anyone.

Maybe now that the can of worms was open, Alex would be more likely to revisit the subject.

"John, when was the last time you slept?" Carson had gotten up and circled the desk, to be standing right in front of him.

"I got a few hours—"

"Nope. Go home." Carson took him by the shoulder, and steered him out of the office. "Go rest, this place isn't going to fall apart around you tonight."

"But Major Davis—"

"Major Lorne is more than prepared to take care of him." Carson led him out of the infirmary and down the hall toward the transporter. "I'll let them know you'll be out of radio contact until morning."

"But—"

"No, buts." Carson all but bodily shoved him into the transporter, before stepping back out. "I'll trust you know the way from here."

John rolled his eyes, but even he knew he was running on the last dregs. There hadn't been a full night of sleep since before going to the Ancient outpost.

He was working in crisis mode – and for once, everyone around him wasn't.

"Don't let Wool—"

Carson crossed his arms and frowned at John. "I can take care of my infirmary very well, thank you very much." He hesitated, flushing slightly. "Well, Dr. Madsen's infirmary…" He shook his head before wagging a finger in John's direction. "Just get a move on."

John dutifully hit the button that would take him to the hall outside his quarters. Maybe sleep would be a good thing.

A/N: Hope you are staying warm if you are in the cold part of the world. If not, I'm jealous. Currently riding out blizzard warnings and hoping the power doesn't go out. So enjoy this slightly-feelgood chapter to make you warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe. You be the judge.