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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

"John?"

The sound of his name filtered through the agonizing haze that kept him locked in his own dark and suffocating world. The word was drawn out and echoed through his pained-addled mind like a slowed down record played loudly in a concert hall.

"John?!"

Awareness slowly seeped through his mind and John Sheppard knew he was in a whole heap of trouble as every nerve in his body fired as one.

"This 'me saving you then you saving me' thing is out of synch. It's your turn to save me!"

John moaned and let Rodney know he was there, listening, even if he couldn't say more.

"Oh, thank God," Rodney whispered and John could hear the relief in his voice. "Can you move? Talk?"

John moaned again as an intense wave of agony flashed through his body.

"I'll take that as a no," Rodney replied, his words followed by the noise of shifting clothes and boots on hard ground.

Rodney hauled him by the tack vest across rough terrain with a grunt of exertion. "I hope to God you find your senses soon as we are in a crap-ton of trouble, Sheppard."

John tried to reply, tried to move his hands or do anything to help Rodney in his task, but to no avail. His body was as limp as a tea-dipped biscuit and his mind just couldn't cope with much more than listening to Rodney ramble.

"Ambush! An ambush of all things! Here?! I've no idea where the others are, or even where we are. If it wasn't for them, I'd have been hit with that same… the thing you were. And where would we be now, huh? The Jumper is gone, and I have no idea how we will get back home..."

John wished he could join in the conversation but he really couldn't understand what Rodney was talking about. The weapon that struck him had blocked his memories from the moment they set foot on the planet. It was hard enough just trying to figure out what planet they were on and why, though he thought it might have been a standard trade mission to one of their allies. Which was strange, considering the state was in currently. He heard a small cry just before his head hit the ground. Rodney groaned to his side and John heard the sound of hands smoothing fabric.

"Oh, that hurt. That really hurt. Stupid bloody tree!"

If John could have laughed, he might have.

"Oh, come on. I'm bleeding now, do you see this?!"

John couldn't see anything. Nor could he answer the question even if it was obviously rhetorical. Again, Rodney sighed, resigned, and began hauling him along. John could feel every rock and uneven bump, each knock sending another wave of pain through him. He had to wonder what the hell he'd been hit with. He'd suffered the effects of many a weapon, on Earth and in space, but nothing that hurt like this. And why couldn't he see? He was sure his eyes were open. He blinked over and over but it didn't shift the darkness from them.

He was thrown roughly against a solid object and slipped down as Rodney huffed and apparently sat beside him.

"Come on, John. Wake up. You're starting to frighten me. Not that I am frightened, no, no, terror-stricken is more like it. If you—"

John heard Rodney move, could hear his breathing louden as he got closer. Then a hand touched his chest and John could not stop the loud groan that pushed through his clenched jaw.

"Oh crap, I didn't… I should have… I…"

Blinding pain erupted in John's chest as if Rodney had grabbed hold of his ribs and pulled them from his body. Wave upon wave of fresh agony swept through him until tears flowed from his eyes and he felt his teeth grind so hard he thought they might shatter.

Then the pain stopped at once.

John tried to open his eyes, and this time, when he did, he saw Rodney McKay kneeling beside him, a look of horror on his face. In his hands, he held two strange black objects which squirmed grotesquely. Rodney threw them to the side with revulsion and looked to John. His eyelids fluttered as if he hadn't expected to find him awake, before he smiled his usual lop-sided smile and said, "That's now two you owe me."

His body trembling violently, John pushed himself upright with difficulties, gasping and choking down the air in huge gulps. "What the hell were those things?!" he spluttered.

"I've no idea. I thought it was some kind of energy blast that hit you, but they were stuck in your chest! I'm sorry I didn't notice them sooner!"

"I'm just glad you finally did," John said, taking a deep breath while patting at his chest.

His fingers felt the ragged holes in his tack vest. John looked to find the holes went right through, to the skin. John pulled off his vest, raised his shirt and was shocked to find the skin scratched and cut with two circular wounds where the black things had bored through. He wondered what kind of missile could go through Kevlar so easily and so thoroughly. John leaned forward and looked at the things Rodney had so violently thrown. They would be rather innocuous if they didn't move of their own volition. Two barrel-shaped creatures, with what looked like four small appendages, wriggled around in the grass as if trying to escape. Any other scientist might have taken a closer look. Might even have boxed one up to take back to Atlantis to study. Yet, Rodney pulled out his gun and bludgeoned them to death with the butt of the weapon. He looked utterly disgusted as he did.

"Don't want one of them crawling up the inside of my trouser leg," he muttered.

"You really don't," John replied. "Where are Teyla and Ronon?"

"No idea. They ran off chasing those who attacked us. Whatever the hell they were. Neither Teyla nor Ronon are replying to hails and I stopped trying in case they were hiding."

"Well, I suggest we get off our butts and go find them."

"Can you?" Rodney asked with a hint of humor. "Get off your butt, I mean?"

John eyed Rodney wearily. He pulled on his vest, checked his gun, and got unsteadily to his feet. "Let's go."

As they both made their way deeper into the vegetation and treeline, John fought to remember exactly where they were. Whatever the little black things had done to him, whether they messed with his head or closed his mind down while they were attached to him, he didn't know. Thing was, he couldn't remember a damned thing since stepping off the Jumper. He had no idea who it was that attacked them, nor what it was he was searching for. Relying on Rodney was all he could do, and this annoyed him greatly.

"Come on, flyboy, keep up!" Rodney said from up ahead.

John inwardly groaned and sped up as best he could, watching the back of McKay's head with narrowed eyes while being glad he had him as a friend.

Cookies... I'll update as soon as I can! 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

John's laboured breathing made Rodney search for a place to stop and rest. It didn't take long to find the perfect spot. A felled tree and its branches formed a protective hollow in which they could sit for a while, hidden from view.

"Where are we?" John asked once his breathing calmed.

"Not sure. Somewhere south of the village, I think."

"No, what planet are we on?"

Rodney stared at him in disbelief, his breath catching in surprise. "What planet?! Caronaa, of course! Where the hell did you think we were?!"

John rubbed at his temples and sighed. "I don't remember anything, Rodney. I've no idea where we are."

"Oh, so you've conveniently forgotten the reason why we're here, huh? And I guess you don't remember how we've ended up without a Jumper?"

"I just said I don't remember anything."

Rodney stared at him for a long moment before he rolled his eyes, huffed with exasperation then leaned back on the tree trunk. "Oh, that's just great. And here I thought things were looking up when you opened your eyes."

"I'm sorry I just got blasted with living ammunition that scrambled my brain!" John growled and wearily glared at him.

Rodney cursed himself for his lack of empathy and did well to keep his mouth shut under John's frosty glare. It wasn't that he didn't care, of course he did. But he was frightened, and when he was frightened, he became more snarky than usual and wound himself up in his own feelings of inadequacy.

"Sorry," he said eventually and watched as John laid himself flat on the ground and took a long, deep breath.

Rodney worried over the man's condition. The usually fit and energetic Sheppard was weaker than Rodney had ever seen him— which was saying something. He'd seen John come through a battle with the White Death, watched him heal after the Jumper crash a few years ago. He'd even survived a bout of often-fatal Bontu fever with hardly a grumble. Through most things, John remained strong-willed and positive.

But this time was different.

When he woke, he was disorientated. When he stood, he shook all over. When he spoke, he did so quietly as if the uttered words tore at his vocal cords. As they ran, he made all sorts of pained noises and his ineffectual breathing slowed them down. And, whatever was wrong with him, it was rapidly worsening. More often than not John was spaced out, confused and yet completely uninterested in his own feeble condition. Looking at him now, sprawled out on the grass as if sleeping, Rodney saw a weakness in John he'd never witnessed before.

Perhaps the reason for this feebleness was that he'd had no time to rest since awakening. Maybe the creatures he'd removed from John's chest had drained him of… what? Energy? Vitality? Maybe they'd poisoned him, and Rodney shuddered as he remembered the time they'd almost lost John on a planet with a broken Jumper and poison in his veins. Even then John had fought valiantly through it.

As Rodney watched John rest and listened to his shallow breathing, he realised why it seemed so different this time. He saw that the very thing which drove the man before him to survive was alarmingly lacking in this scenario.

There was no fight in John Sheppard. No will to carry on.

Rodney's stomach clenched and his mouth dried. When he thought on it, the only interest John had recently shown for their predicament was over what planet they were on. He never asked how they got there, who attacked them or what attacked them, not even why they were attacked or why they were here at all. His disinterest in their current situation was a worry in itself. John always liked to be in charge and in the know, yet, he so easily allowed Rodney to take command of their situation. Let him guide the way, allowed him to find a hide and call time to rest. It was so unlike John that Rodney's panic only grew until he nervously bit at his fingers and worried about what to do.

"John?"

The reply was a soft grunt.

"Why haven't you asked me about what happened?"

John's eyes opened slowly. He turned his head to face Rodney and in those green eyes, Rodney saw confusion.

"I thought… didn't you tell me already?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"Then tell me what happened." Though he spoke words of interest, John closed his eyes and turned away as if whatever Rodney might say didn't matter.

"We came to Caronaa to uphold a promise you so gracefully gave to one of the inhabitants. Kerria? Ring any bells?" When John didn't reply, Rodney continued. "As you know, Caronaa has no gate on the surface of the planet, so we used the one in the upper atmosphere. You flew us down to the surface, and we all mustered in the back and checked our supplies before heading out. You opened the door and from behind the trees and bushes outside jumped these… creatures. There were around thirty of them, I'd say. Not even Teyla or Ronon knew what they were, but it looked as if they were some kind of hunting party? Big, hunched, hairy things, with long claws and sharp teeth and these weird… weapons. As soon as you stepped out of the ship, the creature at the front fired its weapon. It looked like a pulse of energy came from it, blasted you full on. You went down like a scared opossum, all slacked-jawed and limp." Rodney smiled for a second, then frowned as he remembered John's collapse hadn't been funny at all. "A gunfight broke out, and Ronon took down a couple of the creatures. He ran after the others when they bolted and Teyla followed him. Last I saw of them they were heading into the trees. As for the Jumper? I'm not entirely sure what happened to it. One minute it was sitting there and I was going to drag you inside. Next thing it closed up and took off into the sky."

"By itself?"

"Of course, that got your attention. Yes, it closed up and took off all by itself. I had to drag you to cover and now we're stranded on this blasted planet with its giant, native bugs, and weird, hairy attackers. You don't remember any of this?"

John shook his head. "I remember coming through the gate and that's about it."

With a sigh, John closed his eyes again. He remained listless and disinterested. It was all just so wrong, that Rodney feared John was sicker than he first guessed. He crawled over and unclipped John's tack vest, pulled it to the side and raised his shirt. John made neither a comment nor a movement as he did so, as if unaware Rodney was even beside him, or uncaring of the fact. Where the creatures had burrowed into the flesh, the wounds were raw and seeping. But what alarmed Rodney most was the spreading darkness that moved out from the wounds. Like dark, pulsing veins, raised just beneath the skin, they snaked over John's chest until it looked like a macabre patchwork quilt. Rodney stifled a gasp as the intricate webbing of lines continued to grow and extend down his torso. He then noticed the wounds themselves seemed to pulse in time to the movement in the veins.

Rodney reeled back, unable to tear his eyes from the strangeness. This wasn't poison or an infection, but whatever it was, it spread through John's body rapidly and clearly affected him. Once he'd gained control of his horror, Rodney approached John again. He pulled down his shirt and clipped his vest back in place then pushed at John's shoulder.

"Come on, we have to go."

"Leave me alone, McKay. Can't you see I'm exhausted?"

Rodney wouldn't have it. He shoved John's shoulder and ordered him to get up. Pushed him upright when his shaking arms were unable to support him. Growing hysteria ate at his thoughts as John pushed him away with a feeble groan and cursed him for interrupting his rest.

"Get on your feet, Lieutenant Colonel," Rodney shouted in his best commanding tone.

This seemed to rouse John from his stupor, even if it had been more of a squeaked cry than a shout. Rodney watched as John shook himself then pushed all the way up to a standing position. The movement obviously drained him and he wobbled to the side until Rodney steadied him.

"I've got you," Rodney said and pulled John's arm over his shoulder.

"Didn't doubt it," John replied in a somewhat sad tone.

They left their resting place and moved deeper into the woods, staggering back and forth and tripping over branches and hidden rocks. Rodney just hoped he was going in the right direction to find the village.

To be continued! Feed meh cookies!

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Primus sensed when its kin died.

Cruelly torn from their host, tossed aside and smashed to pieces. Such a careless disregard for their lives, yet a warning to the ones who remained.

Keep still. Keep quiet. Stay hidden.

Following these rules allowed Primus to stay connected to this entity without detection or fear of being disposed of as its kin had been. Primus dug into flesh and buried itself then lay somewhat dormant. Very unlike its nature. For a while, it mourned the loss of its kin, for they were the only remaining original family it had.

From a young age, Primus knew its purpose; eat, sleep, and aid in the survival of their species. Known only as Goh, they lived by this lazy natural rhythm and their population exploded in the depths of an ocean of a planet far away. Goh had fierce survival instincts, natural defence mechanisms that were rarely brought into play as they were top of the food chain in their watery world. Small as they were, an army of Goh could consume a behemoth within minutes, or use it as a vessel to reach other parts of the oceans far quicker and much farther than if tried alone.

Then, They had come.

They, with their hulking bodies and snatching claws and cruel nets. The Goh thought of Them as Groten, a slur in their own minds. In the beginning, thousands of Goh were harvested from the depths. At first as a possible food source, but then, on the discovery of their phenomenal defence mechanisms, as ammunition for weapons forged specifically to hold them. The seas were quickly emptied of Goh, harvested for a war they had no part in.

Through intrinsic mass knowledge, Primus knew such was the way of this galaxy.

The fury of Goh only made the Groten happier. It made Their weapons fire true and with an intelligent fury no normal projectile could ever possess. Now, most Goh lived in huge, murky tanks in the lands of those who captured them. But there were too many Goh, living in too close proximity. Cannibalism reigned as long as cramped conditions remained, killing each other to survive long enough to get out of their hell.

Primus had killed many in its need to survive.

With the lack of space and freedom, a new prime directive became entrenched within the captive Goh consciousness; reproduce at all costs, in any way possible, when freedom was won. This drove the Goh to adopt a rather ingenious way to further reproduce and have their species escape captivity. Any of their captors who were stupid enough to handle them without protection became walking incubators for their young. When Goh were fired as living missiles, the target became the host. In this way, Goh maintained a tenuous chance of survival through their offspring.

The Goh's natural instinct to burrow into and gain control of their enemies meant they could bring down an army within a short battle. They could produce a massive electrical discharge from inside their bodies, the voltage of which was enough to kill even the largest of creatures. But many captured Goh could not kill with this defence, too drained and stressed by the removal from their natural home.

When the electrical discharge was not an option, Goh used their strong circular mouths lined with tiny sharp teeth to gouge their way inside their enemy. Their limbs were useful only in liquid and played no part in the burrowing process. The flesh they consumed was quickly transformed into energy to keep them alive so they just kept on moving until they reached a place of sufficient nature which could maintain them. Which, within a living host, was ultimately in their blood or blood-rich tissue. Then their need to pass on their genetic code came into play and this meant many a fallen Groten became a nest for young Goh, who were nourished by the highly nutrient blood. Mostly these young were destined to die desperately as the fluid they thrived in dried to solid graves unless they managed to water first.

The lucky ones and the only ones that might survive were those whose host died near lakes, rivers or seas. When the host expired near water, the young started burrowing. Only unlike their parent, they moved outward and towards a liquid environment which could sustain them. By this time, Primus's job was complete and it would release all hold of the host's senses and attempt its own escape. All of this meant a rather gruesome and painful death for the unfortunate host. As a result of this adjusted way of reproducing, some Goh survived on many more planets than knew of their existence. Primus could only hope to survive long enough in this being to reach water and join them.

This host was already failing, Primus could sense it. Its kin had delivered their spawn just as Primus had engaged the host's mind. In order to fully integrate into a nonwater environment, the Goh had developed a way to render their host inactive as they took hold. The lead Goh, the Primus, would make contact with the host's mind, closing it down so that others were not dislodged. Primus then suffused the mind with apathy, allowing no panic nor wild notion which could bring harm to the Goh. The host would shut down, becoming almost a flesh automaton for the Goh and their offspring. Depending on how many Goh made it through development, the host may well live a week or two without even knowing it was injured or filled with multiple lives.

This host, though, didn't have that long.

The destruction of the others meant their mechanism was cut short in the midst of burrowing. They barely had time to take hold never mind birth. In their panic to become part of the host, they bit and consumed through to bone but failed to reach the blood, unleashing wild electric shocks in their panic. The host suffered horrendously, and that was, in part, the fault of Primus.

The moment it left the weapon all its senses were blown away. A creature such as it should never be airborne. Their bodies were not suited to such atmosphere and by the time Primus hit the host, its mind had blanked. When it regained its senses, the others were already forcing their way into the host. The host experienced pain that was meant to be dulled by Primus. Therefore, they were found, detached and destroyed before fully taking root. Which was fully Primus's fault. Despite this, the others birthed. In a deranged hysteria, as they were wrenched from flesh and muscle, they started the process which Primus now monitored.

The host now held more of its kin.

With its recent loss, Primus was determined to see these tiny lives to safety, even if it meant death for itself. Being Primus meant it could never create life. It was destined to be a protector of life alone.

Primus dampened the host's pain. Dulled its senses and soothed it into an oblivious stupor. It made the host unaware of its pain and discomfort. Allowed the host to speak to its kin so that no suspicion would be aroused. The very act of eating to sustain itself would cause the host injury, therefore Primus starved itself so that the young might live while guiding the host towards a sanctuary it could sense through the host's own senses.

But the host-kin was troublesome and was the very thing that killed Primus's original kin.

Already the host-kin had pulled the host further away from Primus's much-needed sanctuary. Time was running out. The damage to the host was too severe and Primus took on the suffering, pulled it all into itself if only to allow the host to go on further and save its kin.

Perhaps one day Primus's kind would leave the water and rise against those who tore them from their home. But for now, survival was the most pressing issue. Primus turned slowly within the pocket it burrowed within the host, careful not to fry any nerves with its electrical defence mechanism. It sensed the young starting to become aware and to think, even as Primus sensed the thoughts of the host drift further away.

Time was running out and there was nothing Primus could do about it.

To be continued. Cookies, please...

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

They were lost. More lost than they'd ever been, and John Sheppard didn't give a damn. Rodney pulled him onward, trying to steer him in one direction while John pushed in another. They made little headway, slamming into trees and tripping over fallen branches as they wrestled for the lead while looking like a pair of drunken, one-legged racers.

John was now fighting for command after giving it up so easy before. He could tell it was annoying Rodney and truth be told, he didn't quite understand why he felt the need to take control back. He hadn't cared where he was going or why, but now he needed to head east. Something told him that was the direction they should go in and Rodney fought him every step of the way.

His chest burned, the wounds a hot mess beneath his shirt and vest. There was a tingling throughout his torso that came and went, tickling his insides maddeningly. Whatever caused the sensation grew steadily worse, almost as if his veins were somehow vibrating wildly beneath the skin. His head was a fuzz-filled cavern with little in it except the need to head east. He couldn't care less about the pain, tingling, or that they hadn't heard from Ronon and Teyla for so long. When he tried to think about what happened, John found himself caring even less.

Occasionally, violent images flashed through his mind, of blood gushing from his chest and running behind his shirt, of searing pain that stopped his breath, of an alien touch on his mind much too familiar for his liking. But, John felt nothing. The memories meant naught to him, so disconnected from his own mind that he disregarded the throbbing from his wounds as soon as he acknowledged it.

He didn't mind when Rodney forced him to sit down in order to tend to his wounds. Didn't care when Rodney cursed aloud and grimaced at the sight of them. John merely shrugged, leaned against a tree and closed his eyes. It seemed there was nothing that could faze him right now. Nothing at all.

"I can't stop the bleeding. I'm pretty sure… sure I can… is that... bone…?" and John almost laughed when he heard Rodney pass out on the grass beside him. It was so like McKay to see something grisly and close down.

Bone? What did that even mean? It wasn't as if his rib cage was showing, was it?

John suffered an unusual moment of sheer panic, unusual since it was his first real thought in so long as if he'd forgotten how to think. There was an unsettling squirming sensation within his thigh which made his stomach heave and as he leaned over to vomit, a sudden calmness descended over him. The nausea passed and when John sat up again. Rodney's words were gone. Just as the memories from before were gone. The horrors that should have him screaming in abject terror, were lost once more.

He leaned back against the tree, closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. A few moments passed, and he heard Rodney stir from his fainting episode. There was a sniff and strangled cough that sounded as if the man was about to be sick. But Rodney held it together long enough to have another look as John's chest.

"Dear God," he muttered and John heard some shuffling then something cold and wet dabbed at his wounds. "This is worse than before. I can… see bone, John. This isn't good." Another shuffling noise then Rodney's voice. "Teyla, Ronon, come in. This is an emergency. If you can't break cover or… or… or are hiding or something, at least click the com so I know you can hear me!"

There was a short silence followed by three clicking noises. Then came the sound of a soft yet urgent female voice.

"Rodney, this is Teyla. I got separated from Ronon. I am trying to make my way back to you. What is happening?"

"Teyla!" Rodney cried, relieved to hear her voice. "Thank God! John's in a really bad way. He wasn't blasted with energy, they hit him with these black things and they stuck to him and… and they were alive, Teyla. I removed them and John's now acting weird—"

"Speak for yourself," John slurred.

"—and I don't know why. I can't get him to do anything. It's like he's given up! And his chest?! It's covered in—"

"Calm down, Rodney," Teyla interrupted, thankfully halting the hysterical monologue. "Tell me where you are?" she asked.

"I'm trying to head north towards the village but Sheppard keeps dragging me east. I've no idea where we are now." Rodney's voice finished in a high-pitched worried whine.

"Okay, stay calm. I'll work my way back to the landing site and try to follow your path."

"Okay," Rodney replied in a soft, childlike voice.

Something about that tone upset John, which started a chain reaction inside his mind.

"I heard Ronon click in," Teyla continued. "We will need to find and help him if he cannot return on his own. Rodney, I will be with you soon," she promised.

In the silence that followed the transmission, John thought about how Rodney had spoken.

McKay was a man not as easily fazed as he was once. A man who once battled through mutism while riding a wheelchair and he still got his point across while working tirelessly and as vigorously as any able-bodied person. Someone who had battled through and overcome those disabilities to rejoin the team, better and stronger than ever. A man as intelligent and articulate as John himself and a man who was braver than ever for all he had suffered. Rodney had saved John's life countless times without hesitation. So, John idly wondered, what could possibly have driven McKay back into his old ways so thoroughly that he sounded like the Rodney John first met years before?

With that question, John realised his confusion had lifted. Rodney's voice had unwound his strangled consciousness, and John only now understood it had been somehow dampened for some time. He gasped, his eyes snapping open, and he looked at the man beside him.

"You alright?" Rodney asked.

But John couldn't reply as more memories flowed through his mind as well as an awareness of pain, of violation and of something clinging desperately to his mind in a bid to… control him?

No. Placate him

Just as he thought he could think straight, vivid images of black beastly beings worming into his body came to mind. He felt the pain in his chest, excruciating and radiating throughout his entire body. He saw the ambush in quick-time, fast forwarding through his mind until he fell back onto the ground beside the Jumper in agony. Blood spurting from his chest as slime coated oddities ate their way inside him. He remembered lying there, wishing to scream, trying to cry, begging silently for relief as a violent shock froze his body and mind and—

—an eerie calm fell on him, soothed his frazzled nerves and hushed his frantically firing neurons. John relaxed back onto the tree with a sigh and shrugged.

"I'm fine," he replied softly to Rodney's question. "We just need to head east."

"Why?" Rodney asked. "What the hell is so important about that direction?"

"Water…"

"Oh? And what? You want to go for a swim, is that it? Sorry to point this out, but with holes like those you'll sink!"

"No, Rodney, I want to survive."

"And the water can, what? Patch up those wounds of yours?"

"It can cleanse the wounds, Rodney. And I can drink it and take my damned thirst away."

Rodney looked abashed and away from John. "Why didn't I think of that?" he muttered then activated his com. "Teyla, change of plans. We're heading east. To Lake Parnak."

"Okay, I will meet you there soon," she responded.

Three clicks sounded immediately after.

"At least Ronon knows where we're going. Hopefully, he can join us at the river, too," Rodney said as he pulled John to his feet. "Does this mean you will stop pulling me in all over the place?"

John just nodded; eyes already locked in the direction of Lake Parnak. They were close to it, so close he could almost taste the freedom. Such a notion didn't confuse him as everything told him it was freedom that awaited him at the river. Freedom for him and his… kin.

They trudged onwards towards the river, Rodney continually asking him if he was okay like some damned parrot from Earth.

Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?

John could almost hear a squawk between the words. He smiled, imagining Rodney's head on a parrot's body, chomping on crackers and spitting them out as he screeched, "Want a cracker?!"

Want a cracker? Want a cracker? Want a cracker? Want a…

"… rest?" Rodney asked after an indeterminate measure of time.

John shook his head but his body ached to lay down for just a moment. His chest was no longer the only thing burning. It felt as if his blood was super-heated, flowing around his body faster than ever. His heart wasn't beating any faster, in fact, it felt a lot slower than normal, so how could his blood move any faster? His face flushed and forehead drenched with sweat. The heat within radiated out and even Rodney commented on it, mentioning things like infection and high-temperature, fever and infirmary.

In John's right thigh, something moved.

He felt it again, like there was something beneath the skin, turning and moving slowly within him. John pulled Rodney to a stop and gazed down at his leg curiously. With shaking hands, he unbuttoned his trousers. He heard Rodney yelp and noted him turn away.

"If you needed to go, you should have said! You can't just whip it out in front of another man without warning, for crying out loud!"

But John had no intention of relieving himself. He lowered his trousers to the top of his thighs and saw a circular wound which was sealed with a hardened, green plug. His eyes caught movement to the side of the wound, something beneath the skin was indeed moving around his thigh.

"Rodney?"

"What? Do you need help? Please don't ask me for help!"

"Rodney, please!"

The panic in his voice brought the scientist to his side and Rodney reluctantly looked down to John's bared leg. The man covered his mouth with his hand, retching behind his fingers until the stomach convulsion passed.

"What… what the hell is that?!"

"I…"

The thing moved swiftly from his thigh and up into his back. A frisson of energy darted up John's spine, froze his body functions and halted his mind. John Sheppard forgot the weird thing that moved within him and the wound he'd seen moments before. He no longer cared why Rodney looked so ill or shocked. John calmly pulled up his trousers and buttoned them closed as Rodney retched again.

"It's nothing. I think it must have happened when we fell before."

Rodney shook his head violently. "No, no, this is something else, John. You know this is!"

John shrugged. "It's just an injury, from when we fell."

Rodney grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "For God's sake, John, wake up! What the hell is wrong with you?! Why are you being like this?!"

A violent burst of energy spread through him and created an electrical discharge which made Rodney convulse before throwing him forcibly away. For a moment Rodney McKay was airborne, flying backward until he connected with a tree and fell limp to lie within its roots.

John Sheppard smiled and shrugged.

Then he looked east and started walking.

To be continued... feed meh cookies!

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Ronon managed to kill a few of the creatures when they first attacked. Ingrained survival instincts kicked in, as well as a burning desire to destroy the things that hunted him. It was a mindset he'd formed while living for years as a runner, and one he was unlikely to break. Therefore, Ronon followed the rest of the creatures when they retreated and dispersed into the surrounding forest. He ran at top speed, chasing them and firing his blaster while knowing that, despite his best efforts, he was losing ground.

Their large size notwithstanding, the creatures were swift-moving with an almost preternatural ability to move their bodies in ways that made them faster and more lethal than anything Ronon had ever encountered. He soon lost them within the trees and was left to track them as best as he could through the forest and all its hidden dangers.

Ronon followed a fresh trail when a huge armoured beast almost took him down. It had six stubby legs and two, very sharp, three-foot-long horns. Ronon pulled himself into a tree seconds before it gored him. He waited in the branches for the enraged animal to cool down and wander off.

When he finally caught up with one of the creatures, he discovered it was injured. Its pelt was riddled with holes from P90 bullets and it was losing vast amounts of black blood. The beast screeched between intermittent pauses and deep, guttural utterances that Ronon took to be words. It was so alien and different that it lacked the ability to communicate in any meaningful way. Ronon's failure to understand its incomprehensible language only enraged the wounded creature. It reared up to its full height, all eleven feet of it, and towered above him threateningly. The fur on its body stood on end, further enlarging its already impressive size. It attacked Ronon viciously, carving deep rents in the flesh of his chest and stomach with its sharp, elongated claws. Three rounds from his blaster soon dispatched the dying creature.

Ronon hissed as he raised his shirt to inspect his wounds. None were life-threatening, but they hurt like hell. He struggled with trembling hands to tape the wounds closed, growling as he pinched the edges together. He allowed himself a few minutes to breathe through the pain then set off again.

He found the next within minutes, wandering aimlessly through the trees. It was less alert than the last and unaware of his approach. Even when he stealthily passed to stand some yards before it, the creature took no notice. Then, with sudden, blinding speed and a bizarre twisting movement, the beast careened towards him with gnashing teeth and slashing claws. The mass of movement and fur continued to throw itself at him, yet Ronon saw no real awareness in its unfocused eyes. He blasted it fully in the face and staggered back from the corpse, drenched in blood and ichor.

He tracked a third creature that went in a different direction than the others. It headed easterly, and Ronon followed it with the hope it might lead him to the rest of its kind. He stopped behind a tree and watched it closely. It was thin, so much so that its skin hung loosely from its bones as if the slabs of muscles beneath had deflated. It shuffled along, slow and weak and wearing the same vacant expression as the second.

In his ear, Ronon heard Rodney activate the com with an emergency call. He didn't reply, afraid that any movement or sound might trigger the same violent response in the creature as the others had displayed. He tried to ignore McKay, but the man was unusually frantic. Ronon clicked the com three times to let him know he could hear him.

The beast stopped moving, raised its head and smelled the air. Ronon froze and held his breath until the creature restarted its haphazard journey once more. He ventured cautiously from behind the tree and followed it for some time.

It stopped and slowly turned to face Ronon, seemed to sense more than see him as it opened its mouth to growl. All that left its throat was a rasping sigh. The creature shook violently and its wasted limbs trembled when it raised them to attack. Ronon saw no threat in the sickly beast and considered ending its misery.

In his ear, Rodney informed him that he and John were heading to Lake Parnak, and Ronon clicked his acknowledgment through the com.

The creature tensed, its claws extending further from its pads and Ronon quickly raised his blaster. The weakness of the beast was misleading and in a frantic mass of speedy, erratic movement, it launched itself towards him. Slashing and biting, the creature gave Ronon the fight of his life. Its attack was relentless even though it wheezed and panted and trembled. Ronon's blaster was knocked from his hand as the creature wrestled him to the ground. He desperately fought to keep the claws and gnashing teeth from contacting with his body.

The weight of the beast pinned him to the ground, making Ronon wonder how heavy a healthy one of these creatures might be. With both hands on the beast's sagging jowls, Ronon stopped it from chewing his head off as its massive teeth snapped shut mere millimeters from his face. He grunted with exertion as it pressed down on him, the enamel of its long incisors rubbing against his skin as it hungrily breathed in his scent. He saw something moving beneath its fur and then Ronon's body was ablaze with pain and he cried out. He shuddered uncontrollably beneath the bulk of the beast. Electricity arced between them rendering him little more than a jittering mound of misery.

The beast hesitated, wheezing and gasping as if it was about to collapse. Then it pulled back, opened its jaws, and went for the kill.

The moment of hesitation allowed Ronon some recovery, giving him the strength to force his trembling body to move. He grabbed the massive head and pushed it away from him. He tried to get a good enough grip to wrench it to the side and maybe snap its neck, but the beast pulled back suddenly, raised one huge paw and slammed it into Ronon's right arm.

He roared with pain as the bones of his forearm shattered beneath the powerful impact. One claw punctured right through his flesh and for a few seconds, they were both anchored to the ground. The beast wrenched its claw free of the earth, swung its arm back round so fast it slammed into the side of Ronon's head. His eyes watered and vision dimmed as stars ignited and exploded in his mind.

The creature reared up to throw another blow and Ronon's feet churned earth and vegetation as he scrambled away. The blow struck the root of a tree and shattered it to pieces. With increasing sluggishness, Ronon raised his uninjured arm and grabbed for the slender knives hidden in his hair. When his fingers folded over one, he threw the knife with such precision that it punctured one of the creature's eyes. It bellowed with pain, paws rising to its face and Ronon took the moment of distraction to attempt escape. But he was disoriented and dazed and could feel himself losing consciousness even though he fought against the growing darkness.

He knew death would be all but inevitable if the beast attacked again, and attack it did.

It bounded towards him, mouth gaping, claws fully extended and long arms reaching for him. Ronon stumbled backward. His foot caught on a rock and as he fell he was sure this was the end.

A crashing sound came from above, as a dark object fell speedily and collided with the beast. Surprised and grateful, Ronon watched as a massive, dark insect wrestled with the braying creature.

The insect was fat and slimy, with a giant pincered mouth that snapped viciously at the creature's neck. The beast yelped as the pinchers grabbed it by the throat and it struggled to free itself. Electricity arced between the combatants, each jolt weaker than the last. The insect was left unharmed and slowly closed its pincers around the beast's windpipe, crushing it.

Ronon winced at the sound of crunching bones and saw the beast's head drop down, its body instantly sagged to the ground, long arms dropping by its sides, the lethal claws withdrawing slightly into the massive paws. The frightening insect scrambled atop it and began to enjoy its meal.

Ronon's lungs heaved in gulps of air as he pulled his broken arm to a less painful position across his stomach. He'd been lucky, and he knew it. Never before had he come up against such a creature. So dynamic and unpredictable, he was sure a healthier specimen would have long bested him. The sight and sounds of the beast being eaten told him he should get up and run, but the blow incurred minutes before made running all but impossible.

Ronon somehow managed to his feet and staggered forward in search of a safer place to collapse. He spied his blaster by a rocky outcropping, picked it up and took three attempts to get it in the holster. Ronon looked at the outcropping and decided it was a good enough shelter to keep him safe for a while.

He dropped to the ground with a thud and a groan and rolled himself under the rock, where he surrendered to the darkness.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Teyla rushed through thick foliage that tore at her clothes and scratched her legs, yet she wouldn't stop. She ran even though her chest was tight and her muscles ached from exertion. Her teammates were in trouble and she seemed to be the only one currently able to help them. Therefore, her suffering meant little, and she ran on through the discomfort.

She and Ronon had chased the creatures who attacked until they lost sight of each other. When she last saw the Satedan, he was bolting after four of the creatures, guns blazing and fire in his eyes. Teyla herself had already killed two of their attackers, spending no time to look over their bodies, save to determine that they were dead. She spared them little sympathy as she hurried past their fallen forms to hunt down others. Having seen their murderous intent was enough to disperse any feelings she might have had for them otherwise.

When John collapsed she ran at their attackers, outraged and unaware that the chase would go on so long that she would lose track of the team. Teyla thanked the Ancestors that at least Rodney was still with John. Though she had no idea where Ronon was, she knew he was alive by his silent communication of clicking the com.

Her biggest concern was reaching Rodney and John as it seemed the scientist was panicking over the colonel's condition. Rodney often panicked, and usually over trivial matters, but in his voice, she heard more than just his standard overreaction. There had been worry in his tone, and fear. Though Rodney McKay could whine like a pro, it was now rare that he allowed his fear to show, unlike when they first met. He'd learned to control at least that part of his personality, and this allowed him to go on missions no ordinary scientist would dare. It had cost him dearly at times, but Teyla knew Rodney would have it no other way. Even she could see the man had evolved from an angst-ridden mouse to a quiet lion and a fundamental part of their team. If Rodney's fear overwhelmed him, there was a very good reason it did.

Teyla stumbled into the clearing where the Jumper had landed. She saw one of the creatures they had dispatched and walked slowly past it, acknowledging the strange and alien form. She'd seen nothing like them before. They were large entities, though their true size had been hidden by their hunched posture. Laid out in death, it was obvious that the creatures would stand around ten, maybe eleven feet tall. Their arms were longer than their legs. They had an almost artful and athletic build, crafted with thick slabs of muscle which twisted around rather than lay upon their bones. It gave the impression of immense speed and agility and Teyla had watched them move in ways she'd never seen before, twisting and morphing their forms into shapes which better aided their escape. From their large paws grew long lethal claws yet they appeared to favour a strange weapon over their own, natural ones. One such weapon lay by the side of the fallen creature, itself as utterly alien as the being that once held it.

Made from a reddish pitted metal, it had a bulbous canister affixed to the top, from which an array of cables and tubes fed into the main body of the weapon. The canister itself had vents and Teyla could see dark liquid moving within. The muzzle was splattered with black goop, and globules of green dripped from the end of the barrel. It made no sense, considering the blast that had shot from it had been bright and explosive, not a hosing of whatever fluid the canister contained. Teyla thought perhaps it was a chemical that somehow converted to energy as she was sure that was what hit John. But then, hadn't Rodney mentioned living creatures that he'd removed from Sheppard's chest? Black things? She leaned in to take a closer look at the canister if only to determine what had caused John's injuries.

In one quick and smooth movement, Teyla stepped back and raised her gun when she saw a small black barrel-shaped entity easing its way from the bizarre weapon. It plopped onto the ground with a squishy splatter. It had four small limbs and moved towards the fallen creature in a gait not unlike a baby sea turtle from Earth that Carson had once shown her. It looked ridiculously cute in a strange sort of way as it continued its flapping crawl towards the corpse. Once it touched upon the dead attacker, Teyla reeled back in horror as the little creature's head rippled and opened up to reveal an oversized, round mouth, with needle-like teeth. It bit into the fallen enemy and burrowed its way inside. Every now and again the dead creature shook and trembled as bright arcs of energy flowed through it. More of the black entities came from the weapon's barrel, made their way to the body, and chewed their way inside the cooled corpse.

Teyla ran.

She ran as fast as she could, away from the horror, searching for signs that might take her on the path to her comrades. She saw tracks in the dirt and grass, indicative of a body being hauled, and followed it deep into the vegetation. As she swallowed bile, Teyla concentrated on the path to take her mind from what she'd seen. If this was the same creature which hit John, then she understood why Rodney sounded so terrified. Just remembering what it did to a dead thing was enough to make Teyla speed up and rush towards her friends.

She came to a point where the tracks changed. For a while, there were two sets of footprints, which, after some time, became one. Only one person had forged ahead and there were no signs of the second. Teyla followed the single track for a few minutes, noting that it was walked in a haphazard way, weaving a meandering path through the long grass. She quickly backtracked to find the point where the second set of tracks came to an end, toe to toe with the first. It was as if one of the men had simply disappeared. Teyla looked around the area, searching for any sign of what happened. She caught sight of a crumpled body lying at the base of a big tree some yards away. Her heart hammered in her chest as she hurried forward, scared of what she might find.

Rodney McKay lay like a broken rag doll among the thick roots of the tree. He was breathing, even managed a quiet moan of pain when Teyla shook his shoulder.

"Oh, thank the Ancestors. Rodney? Rodney?!"

She shook him again when there was little response before his eyes snapped open, and he cringed back from her with surprise. Rodney looked past her, eyes darting around the area in search of something.

"Where is he?" he asked eventually, pushing himself upright.

"I do not know. I followed his tracks but came back to find yours. What happened?"

Rodney frowned and shook his head. "I've absolutely no idea. One minute I was trying to shake some sense into John, the next I was flying through the air." He rubbed at his arms and wrung out his hands then looked at them curiously. "It feels like I've had a shock!"

"We've all been shocked by this," Teyla replied.

"No, a shock, as in an electric shock." He raised his hands which trembled and shook. "I've had electric shocks before, but never one from a human being, and certainly not enough to send me flying."

Teyla thought of the black creature and how electrical energy arced through the dead corpse it bit into. "The things you removed from John, were they were small, and black, and had four little limbs?"

Rodney sneered with disgust. "Yes, and they were cold and slimy."

"And you removed them all from John?"

"I removed two, but..." Something crossed over his features; a combination of shocked remembrance and utter despair. "No, I didn't because I didn't know there was another on him. In him," he clarified. "There was a moment, and I thought he was going to take a... relieve himself and so I looked away. But John called on me and the way he did made me turn back. There was something under his skin, moving beneath a circular wound like the ones in his chest!"

"So, there were three things attached to him?" Teyla asked with alarm.

"I think so, yes. I've no idea how I missed it. When I removed them, John came around and all his shaking stopped. I thought he was back, that he was okay. But he wasn't. He isn't."

Rodney stared blankly ahead, lost in his own misery. Teyla allowed him a self-pitying moment and instead tried to contact Ronon. She tried several times yet the Satedan didn't even acknowledge her hails.

"Come on," she said and helped Rodney to his feet. "We need to find him. Something tells me this need to go east and get to water has less to do with Colonel Sheppard as it has to do with the thing inside him."

"And once he gets to the water?" Rodney asked fearfully.

"Let's not allow that happen," Teyla replied and pushed Rodney into a run.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Primus was starving.

It was too afraid to take in the nutrients it needed for fear it would kill the host too soon. Host demise would doom Primus's kin to suffocating deaths within the lifelines of a corpse. If in desperation they burrowed out of the corpse too soon, they would die anyway without liquid to live in. This was why Primus tirelessly drove the host onwards toward the vast body of water in the east it sensed through the host's sensory system.

But Primus had been careless with its fear. Allowed the host to gain momentary control of its mind and experience every ache and pain it never should have. This spurred the host to do something which revealed Primus's presence. So, it had fed. Slowly at first, then with much urgency as the host-kin tried to break its control. The last of Primus's lineage was held within this host and it would not allow them to perish due to outside interference. As Primus drew in much-needed nutrients, it sped towards the host's central nervous system and triggered its ultimate defense mechanism in the hopes of turning the host-kin away. The massive jolt of energy was enough to repel the host-kin, so Primus stopped feeding and settled into relative dormancy once more.

Primus monitored its kin closely. They were healthy and growing at the rate they should. If Primus didn't tranquilize the host, it would be driven insane by the feeling of the infants flowing through its lifelines. It had happened before in a Groten and the beast had clawed itself to death to be rid of the sensation.

Normally, infant Goh traveled through the fast-moving waters of the birthing valley in the sea of their homeworld. Infant Goh would travel the circular route of the valley, gaining nutrients from the water and also knowledge as they passed the Goh masses. The knowledge became an inherent source of information embedded with all Goh, built upon for millennia. In time the infants sprouted tiny limbs which would one day help them climb from the birthing valley to join the Goh masses and feed as they did. The infants would change colour from grey to black and take on the characteristics of mature Goh within a day.

But when birthed within a host, the young Goh developed differently. They gained their knowledge from Primus and grew much more rapidly than a sea-born infant. They required stronger limbs which developed quickly in order to keep moving against the blood flow, taking no chances that they might flood through the host's brain and kill it. As they developed and grew, their increasing mass posed a problem as lifelines were not meant to hold them. So they used their legs to anchor themselves to the vessel walls while extending them to allow blood flow. By the time their mouths were formed enough to chew their way out of the host, the Primus should already have guided the host to water.

Developing in such a way was dangerous because the very processes that kept them alive, brought rapid death to the host. As they consumed nutrients from the blood and tissues, they took away those same nutrients from the host until it starved or suffocated.

Which was already happening to this host.

The infant Goh had their limbs and Primus sensed their frantic battle to keep lifelines open while attempting to gain the sustenance their growing bodies required. Primus also sensed the failing of the host as its energy depleted. At times the host stopped purely because it was starving, stamina so exhausted it could go no further. This was when Primus fed again and used its own energy to move them forward.

They were both dying.

Primus understood it would never leave this body. Never taste the freedom of the sea nor move in cool water. It was destined to die with the host as it pushed them both to their very limits for the sake of its kin.

At last, Primus sensed the nearness of water. It stopped the host which swayed upon its long legs that trembled and wished only for collapse. A rankness sullied the sweetness of the water. A recent host death, obvious by the particularly pungent smell of Goh slime and decay. The slime that protected their bodies reacted with stale blood to produce the noxious scent that surrounded the corpse. Primus moved its host on towards the corpse, hoping to sense survival of the infant Goh and perhaps another Primus in the vicinity.

All it sensed was death.

The host had fallen too far from the water, the young which managed to escape, dried and died upon the ground. Those still within their host's carcass had perished through exhaustion and starvation. It was a tragedy. Primus sensed the other Primus slipping away. Its knowledge petered through a death haze to join the collective mind and spoke of a river that scented but did not exist. Primus was puzzled, as it had never encountered such a thing. Water was water, and where there was water there was life. But the other Primus insisted it was not the case here. With a final thought, it died within the confines of its host's spine and Primus mourned for it and for itself.

For only death awaited it and its kin.

The other one's final thought told Primus that traps were set for the Goh, but apparently not by Groten. It seemed the other Prime allowed its host some access to its higher brain functions prior to its death, and the beast was just as surprised to see the strange entrapment.

Indecision stalled Primus's thought process, making its drained and dying host quiver, caught between motions that rocked it back and forth. It heard the faint cry the host emitted, sensed a failing in the connection due to Primus's inaction. It sensed the agony of the host, shared its pain and fear. Primus felt sorrow that the survival of its species required such a brutal and deadly tactic. It wouldn't have cared had the host been Groten, but this host was simply a target, not part of their war. Primus's sorrow suffused the host's mind and they both mourned their approaching demise.

It turned the host away from the corpse and dared to share a thought with the alien entity. Tried to impart its own remorse while soothing the host's regret over its impending death with so many things still left to do. Primus understood this particular regret, for it had only one thing left to do and feared that it would ultimately fail.

Since the water it scented apparently no longer existed, Primus made a drastic decision. It communicated with the young, told them to stop feeding, anchor themselves and become dormant for a time. It was a mechanism that all Goh possessed and triggered in times of famine. It sensed the infants do as it asked and the resulting flush of increased energy permeate the host. It wasn't as much as the entity required, but it might keep it alive a little longer.

Using the host's senses as its own, Primus smelled the air for another hint of water, finding one to the south. It was just a trace, so weak that Primus knew it might be farther away than the host could possibly manage. But it had no other choice and forced the host to walk once more and back into the tree line toward the faint trace of their salvation.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Rodney and Teyla followed John's tracks until they reached Lake Parnak, only the great lake wasn't as Rodney remembered. Around it, once mighty, Sequoia-like trees had decayed to become hulking dried mounds of splintered wood amid rotting vegetation. On the banks, the grass had changed from its glorious golden hues to pale and sickly green and the blades had wilted to the ground. Strange mounds of decayed biological matter dotted the area, though what they'd once been was unknowable. There was no sign of life around the lake. No birdsong or local animal calls. Not even the giant insects made an appearance on the barren landscape. But most disturbing of all was Lake Parnak, itself.

Once a home for various water life and support for many of Caronaa's inhabitants, the lake now appeared stagnant. In fact, it looked nothing like a lake at all. The water was black and viscous with a thick, dark crust covering large areas. Atop this lay rotten carcasses; wildfowl, and fish, apparently keen to escape the toxic environment only to die upon the crust and under the bright sun.

"Rodney, look," Teyla pointed to a shuffling form that made its way towards the edge of the lake. The creature was dragging its feet, its long arms trailing behind creating long unbroken tracks in the dirt. It made strange sounds and its once long and sharp claws were splintered and torn. The beast looked utterly emaciated, seriously ill if not dying and it gasped, reaching for the poisoned water, seemingly unaware of the danger.

Despite the fact the creature was one that had attempted to kill them, both Rodney and Teyla instinctively ran forward to stop it from touching the water. As they closed in, they could see its pelt rippling and shuddering.

From behind them came a roar. "Stay back! Get away from it!"

Rodney turned to see Ronon bolt from the treeline, looking fierce and oddly terrified.

"Move away from it!" he shouted and both Rodney and Teyla took several quick steps back from the creature.

Ronon bounded toward them then stopped a few yards away on the other side of the beast. He was covered in cuts and bruises and his right arm hung awkwardly by his side. His shirt and trousers were torn, saturated in blood and an unidentifiable black fluid. He took no notice of their shocked stares and said, "they're still highly violent in this state."

As if to negate his words, the beast slumped to the ground and onto its back. Its head turned to face Rodney and Teyla. Eyes wide open, milky, unseeing, but full of suffering. It grunted softly as the movement beneath its skin increased. Rodney felt queasy at the sight, yet was unable to look away. There came a nauseating sound of something wet and tearing and Rodney gagged when he saw something small and grey force its way through the skin of the beast's neck. Hundreds of little creatures burrowed their way from inside the felled beast, struggling to free themselves with their tiny little legs. The beast died with a weak, strangled cry that shook Rodney to his core.

With the beast dead, the tiny creatures hastened to free themselves of the corpse which moved sickeningly from the increased struggling within. They burst through its neck, its arms, its stomach, and legs. All with mouths that consumed what little of the beast remained as they crawled out and over the emaciated corpse. Black blood oozed from the exit holes and Rodney saw it was the same fluid that Ronon was drenched in. A stench filled the air that made Rodney bury his head in the crook of his arm to cover his mouth and nose. He and the others stepped further back as a sea of the tiny creatures dropped to the ground and crawled towards the dark, oily water. But some were too weak, hardly able to pull themselves free of the skin. These died in their holes, their mouths biting at the air as they expired. Many that headed to the water didn't fare much better. Their little legs were unable to pull them towards the water fast enough and so many dried under the heat of the sun, never reaching their goal.

The ones that did reach the water found that a different version of death awaited them.

The first dipped a leg in and tried to pull back suddenly, but the oily nature of the water stopped it from escaping. Rodney saw it twisting feebly, held firm by the viscous fluid. Where the water touched, its grey skin bubbled and turned a sickening green. Others were now trapped by the water, all suffering the same death throes as the first. Then more joined them, but these tried to save the ones burning in the water only to fry under the sun's glare.

It was over in a matter of a few minutes.

The dead beast was little more than skin and bones. Most of the creatures were drying quickly to husks as the ones trapped by the water slowly submerged with the movement of the oily substance.

When one, final creature, slimy black and much larger than all the others emerged from the corpse, Rodney had seen and knew enough to understand what he'd just witnessed. His stomach heaved violently then he vomited until it was empty and bile burned his throat. He felt Teyla rub at his back as he retched painfully. Heard a loud blaster shot and when he straightened and wiped his mouth dry, Rodney saw the blast hole where the creature had been and Ronon putting his blaster back in its holster.

"Even after all this time, you've still not got the stomach for this sort of thing." Ronon smiled, though there was no chiding in his words. In fact, he looked just as shaken as he and Teyla.

"It's not that," Rodney whispered before another wave of nausea struck him silent.

He knew what these things were and understood what had just happened. He saw the worried glances from the others but found himself unable to speak as the horror of his understanding gave him the knowledge he wished he never had.

The creature had carried the tiny beings here to the water. The creature didn't fight those living within it. And, the creature had the same blank expression John Sheppard had worn the last Rodney saw him.

An awful, choking, wave of revulsion and terror stifled the cry of panic that lodged in Rodney's throat. He stared at the others, wishing them to come to the same conclusion so that he didn't have to voice the words that frightened him so much. He saw the moment Teyla understood, saw her blanch and place a hand to her mouth. Saw her lurch forward as her stomach convulsed and emptied at her feet.

Ronon watched them both carefully. "What just happened?" he asked after a few moments.

Neither Rodney nor Teyla answered him as they looked around the area, now seeing the mounds they spotted before for what they were; other beast corpses. They desperately scanned the area, searching for a similar mound which might also hold the signature black uniform of the Atlantis military.

They saw none.

"You have no idea what this means?" Teya asked.

Ronon shook his head, his expression darkening. "You saying this has something to do with Sheppard?"

Rodney spat sourness from his mouth and finally found his voice. "Those were the same things that hit him. The big one, in the end, that's what hit him when they fired on us. I pulled them from his chest. But I missed one, and now… now he's a walking incubator for them."

Ronon neither blanched nor said a word. If he was concerned, he didn't show it, but Rodney saw his posture stiffen, his good hand wander towards his weapon and his jaw tighten. Ronon looked away, eyes roving over the landscape until he found what he was searching for.

"This way," he growled and took off in a sprint.

The others didn't have to ask where they were going. The master tracker had obviously found the direction John had wandered. They hurried behind Ronon, Rodney huffing and puffing but doing his best to keep up. He said nothing of the pains he still felt following his encounter with the tree, nor the energy that blasted him into it. His injuries would heal, his bruises would fade and his frazzled nerve endings would settle in time. But John Sheppard didn't have the luxury of time and his injuries would only get worse. What they would do when they finally found him, Rodney didn't know. How the hell they would remove the larvae that now surely coursed through his veins wasn't something Rodney wanted to think about, just yet. Without the Jumper, they couldn't take him back to Atlantis for care and any rescue ship sent would likely be too late.

He's going to die because he made a promise to a girl, he thought bitterly then hurried to keep up with the others.

.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 9

The Gate had activated almost ten minutes ago. No IDC was received, yet the Stargate's shield ignored their commands and deactivated to allow the Jumper passage. The PuddleJumper that team AR-1 departed in at nine that morning slipped through the event horizon and hovered before the gate. When it failed to ascend into the hanger bay, Woolsey ordered the Gate guards to investigate.

"What do you mean it's empty?" he shouted a few minutes later to the men below in the Embarkation area.

A suited and booted soldier was looking in the Jumper window. "There's no one inside, Sir, that's why it won't ascend."

Woolsey wrung his hands and wondered what the hell was going on. He looked to the command staff, all of whom shrugged and gestured that they were none the wiser. He looked back to the Jumper and focussed on the red light that flashed intermittently in the cockpit interior.

He activated his com with an irritated sigh. "Doctor Zelenka to the bridge, immediately."

Five minutes later the little Czech hurried into the gate room with an assortment of cables and his laptop. He looked to Woolsey and then the Jumper and gestured as if to say, "What?"

"The Puddlejumper is empty and won't go to the bay," Woolsey informed him.

The little scientist raised an eyebrow and looked confused for a moment. "Then how did it get here?" he asked.

"Just, please, get it into the bay, would you?"

Zelenka frowned then nodded and left to deal with the ship. Woolsey watched him as he proceeded to open a panel on the side of the Jumper and connect one of the cables before pressing at his laptop. There was a clunking sound and Zelenka removed the cable and told everyone to stand back as the Jumper rose slowly up into the hanger bay.

"Doctor Zelenka, if you would be so kind as to find out what's going on and report back to me, please," Woolsey said and returned to his office.

He sat behind his desk and glanced at the clock, his fingers drumming off the desktop in agitation. It was five-thirty in the evening and the Jumper had returned a day before it was meant to, with no one on board. It took four hours to reach Coronaa through a series of three gates. Double that to account for the return journey. It appeared as if the ship had returned to Atlantis as soon as it landed on Coronaa, and without Colonel Sheppard or his team.

Atlantis had received no communications from the team since they left that morning on a routine follow up visit. Colonel Sheppard had mentioned a promise he had to keep. Woolsey had been about to ask about it when Rodney McKay had interrupted with a rather scathing remark about Sheppard's need to impress girls. Woosley let the subject drop, not wishing to open that particular can of worms.

But this situation concerned him. Never before had a Puddlejumper returned to Atlantis without its team. As far as he was aware, the Stargate shield had not failed them in the past and Woolsey wondered why it would now, especially today.

Two anomalies in one day were no mere coincidence.

He lifted his silver flask to pour some coffee, only to find it empty. Pulled his best exasperated expression even though there was no one to see it. "To the mess hall, then," he sighed, grabbing his mug and closing the flask.

When he arrived in the hall there were a few people dotted around eating meals at tables; the late shift grabbing a bite to eat before continuing their work into the small hours of the morning. He passed a table where the people were talking about the Jumper's return and the missing team. One man laughed about it, saying Sheppard was probably playing a joke. Another worriedly asked his companion if the wraith might have something to do with the strange happening. Woolsey wondered how they even already knew. Was he so far out of the loop, that —had he not been present when it happened— he would be the last to know?

He was always the last to know.

Not this time, he decided.

Woolsey filled his flask, and also his mug, then sipped the fresh coffee as he made his way to the Jumper bay. He hated it there. It just reminded him of the time Atlantis was attacked and General Jack O'Neill and himself were captured in a similar hold. He shuddered as he stepped inside the darkened area.

Zelenka was in the back of the returned Jumper, sitting amidst crystals and cables while staring at his laptop with a look of delight.

"Have you found anything?" Woolsey asked when the man failed to notice him.

Zelenka startled and scrambled to his feet, stammering and stuttering as he held the laptop under Woolsey's nose. "Look at this! It's a return-to-base command code! I've never seen it before! No one has!"

"So, how was it activated if no one knows about it?"

"According to the system files, soon after touchdown, something happened and a command was sent to the Jumper telling it to return to Atlantis."

"That doesn't answer my question, doctor."

Zelenka pushed his glasses back on his nose and huffed. "I do not know why, or how, I only know that it did. I know the mechanics, I can read the code. As to why it was activated?" he shrugged again.

Woosley sighed, drained the coffee from his mug and poured some more from the flask. "So we are no further forward than we were when the thing came through the gate."

"Ah," Zelenka said and raised his hand, pointing a finger upwards, "but we do know more, sir."

He typed into this laptop then presented it to Woolsey who stared at it, bewildered. "And just what is it I'm supposed to be seeing?"

"That," Zelenka pointed to a line of numbers, " is a ship."

"What kind of ship?"

"I don't know. I just know it is one."

Woolsey rubbed at his temple, clearly exasperated. "Doctor Zelenka, if you could possibly try and make things clearer, we might reach a conclusion sooner."

Zelenka blushed and cleared his throat, pushed his ever-roving glasses back on his nose and said, "That is a ship. A huge, ship. It is also one we've never encountered before. Perhaps the team ran into trouble. Maybe they had a fight with that ship. And maybe Colonel Sheppard sent the Jumper back here so that it wouldn't be taken by the enemy."

Woolsey finally understood. "It's an emergency call. Sheppard sent it back ensuring the ship didn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Yes!" Zelenka cried. "This is remarkable sir, a new discovery of a Jumper subsystem!"

"Yes," Woolsey said quietly. "And a cry for help from one of our teams."

This settled the excited scientist into a somber silence.

"See to it that this ship is ready to fly out as soon as possible. I'll be sending a team after them. I want a full report of your findings on my desk by morning."

Crestfallen, Zelenka nodded and turned back to the mess on the Jumper floor.

"And, doctor Zelenka?" Woolsey said and waited for Zelenka to look wearily back. "Good work."

He left the scientist who grinned and got back to work while reverting to his own language to talk to himself.

Woosley shook his head but smiled and left the jumper bay. He activated his com and said, "Major Lorne, meet me in my office in five minutes." He thought for a moment then added, "And bring your team with you."

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

John was slowing down.

He was unbelievably tired and feeble. Unable to get enough air into his lungs meant he breathed in short, sharp gasps which exhausted him further. He felt more hungry than he'd ever felt in his entire life. He ached all over to the point it seemed that even his bones hurt. His feet felt heavy and he tripped and fell so often it only made it so much harder to get back off the ground. When at one point he felt the compulsion to look at his watch, he saw it hung somewhat loosely around his wrist and this alarmed him, but only for a moment. Then the significance of it disappeared from his mind, as well as all the other worrying things he'd just noticed.

He kept going forward. On through the forest with all its natural traps and snares. Life sang out around him, yet John neither acknowledged nor admired it. He caught sight of knelkin, fast-moving deer-like animals with smooth, white fur. The beauty of this rarely seen and elusive creature was lost on him, and he looked away to the darkness of the forest.

He stopped beneath a large tree, quite unable to take another step. He stood there, legs threatening to give way as he swayed back and forth and fought the urge to keep going. Above him came a crashing sound, and if John had all of his senses he would have known that he was under attack. As it was, he didn't move and was soon smashed into the ground with such force that it drove precious air from his starving lungs. Upon him lay one of the myriads of Caronaa's legendary insects. This one looked something like a gargantuan caterpillar, yet was as dissimilar to one as could possibly be. It had short, green fur on top which graduated to reddish-brown beneath. Its body was as long as John was tall. It had what looked like ten to the power of five legs, all of which moved continually to support its great weight. Its head was a bulging, protruding mass of flesh with no discernible features save for the spines upon its crown and two, strange, dish-like antennae. Whatever senses this creature possessed, it had no eyes or ears that John could see, nor a mouth for that matter.

In normal circumstances, John might have yelled for help, or reached for his weapon, maybe even tried to wrestle the thing off his body. But he just lay there, looking up at the monster without even a hint of fear or recognition of the peril he was in.

The bug rose up, the skin of its head split along the bottom and a mouth appeared. Within it was a circle of teeth-like structures that continually flicked inwards and many dark spots from which oozed salivary juices and acid. If any part of him came into contact with those teeth they would slowly and continually pull John inside the mouth to be broken down by the acid and consumed at a rate that would mean he would be alive quite long enough to experience most, if not all of the bug's digestive system horrors. But the mouth closed slowly and the bug poked its head towards his face. Soon its skin smothered him, feeling around his face like a gooey blanket. Its antennae quivered and swept over his hair. Then it pulled itself from his body and moved away. Climbed back up the tree and awaited a more palatable prey to walk beneath its perch.

John lay there panting rapidly, unable to move or wipe the bug's goop from his face. Something deep inside him forced a short, anguished cry from his throat as he experienced mind-shattering terror. John suddenly understood how close to death he'd come. Fully realised how much danger he was in as he lay there unprotected for some other hungry entity to stumble upon. But that wasn't why he gulped down frantic breaths and cried out weak sounds that would no doubt alert other denizens of the forest to his distress.

For the first time in too long, John was aware.

His body shivered as his mind acknowledged the excruciation that clawed at all of his senses. Every part of him was aflame with an agony he didn't understand. All of his muscles were tight and cramping. His stomach clenched and hurt from hunger. A fire burned in his chest as lava flowed through his veins. He felt things inside of him, moving, continually squirming and twisting throughout his system. And he was weak, weaker than he'd ever been. So much so that John was sure he was dying.

As his mind got somewhat used to the agony, he remembered everything. Remembered landing the Jumper. Opening the door. Seeing the attack coming. Realising they were in trouble. Saw the flash of light traveling at high speed towards him. Felt the impact as it threw him back to the edge of the Jumper's bulkhead door. The storm of electrical energy that burst through him, radiating from the impact wounds. He remembered the unwilled command, triggered by the electric jolt, that sent the Jumper on a return course to Atlantis. Watched it take off and felt hope leaving him as warmth and pain exploded in his chest. Looked down to see the tail-end of struggling black creatures whose teeth he felt gnawing at his flesh. The blood, spluttering and gushing past them as he tried to grasp and pull their blood-slick, wriggling and slimy bodies away. Grunted at the pain in his thigh. Felt the crawling of one missile as it burrowed deep within his flesh. Then the terrible surge of energy that flashed through his body and rendered him immobile just as his eyes saw Rodney Mckay's frightened face loom above. Then his vision and all other senses shut down, only rebooting while Rodney hauled him through the forest.

Now John knew what had happened to him, but the knowledge did little to help his current situation. Nor did it fully explain the extent of unfamiliar and painful movement within his body. He knew at least one of the creatures still resided within him. Knew two had been wrenched oh so painfully from his flesh by Rodney. Yet it felt as if hundreds moved within him. He felt it as tiny ticks and pulses throughout his body, different from the massive movements he'd felt in his last awakened moments.

But there was one he felt only too clearly as it squirmed in his back. It had shot up there earlier when he and Rodney discovered it. No matter whether he could bear to claw it out or not, John would no longer be able to reach it on his own to do so. And here he was, suffering alone and lost in woods he knew better than to enter.

The thing in his back moved again. He felt it pushing against his trapezius as it slipped slowly towards his spine. It felt different from before, a more sluggish movement. Perhaps the creature was dying, too, and this thought brought John some comfort.

At least I'll take the bastard with me, he mused silently.

But it seemed the creature had other ideas as a jolt of energy shot up his spine and before he knew it, John was upright and forging ahead through the forest. This time he felt and was fully aware of everything happening, almost as if the creature had heard his thought and punished him for it. He felt his muscles obeying commands not of his brain's making. Charges fired into them that made them quiver and answer orders that bypassed all of his own. He felt his muscles stretching and tearing with the forced movements, starving for energy that his body could barely provide. His walk was a staggering gait created by the alien understanding of a bipedal form. He rushed through areas John silently begged not to, charged past animals with gaping mouths that lunged at him, grateful they could or would not follow.

Then he broke free of the forest, stumbling into a vast clearing in which the village he knew was built. He stopped, looked around and felt himself smell the air, searching for something. What the creature within him wanted was past the village, on and through the other side of the forest John could just see in the distance. When he saw how much farther he had to go, John knew the creature's machinations were useless. He was done. There was hardly a breath left in him to take another step. He felt the creature bombard his muscles with weakening bursts of energy, but they were unable to heed the commands and so he just stood there, shivering and quivering and moaning softly.

With a soft cry, John stumbled forward and fell to the ground. His chest hitched with its quest for air. His body screamed for much-lacking oxygen as he breathed mere puffs through grains of earth.

Then he heard his name being called. The sound far away at first but drawing quickly nearer. Soon he felt hands upon him, pulling him gently onto his back and saw three sets of eyes full of concern and fear. John slipped into unconsciousness as his friends lifted him from the ground and carried him towards the village.

To be continued... cooookiiieeessss.....

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Primus had lost all control.

The host simply didn't have enough energy to keep going and so collapsed in a heap of withering flesh and bones that Primus was unable to jolt into motion. Its consciousness had faded and the last thing Primus sensed before the total shutdown was the sensation of the host being lifted and carried.

They were doomed.

Primus existed in a dying world as its kin slowly succumbed to lack of nutrients. It had asked the young to go dormant, but this command came too late to keep the host going until their deliverance. Now its kin were dying and Primus itself was suffering the effects of starvation. If they ate and emerged from the body now they were all destined to die anyway, so Primus did not awaken the infants, sentencing them and itself to death and seeing it as a kindness.

As it lay in the darkness Primus lamented. There would be no survival of any Goh on this planet. The water was poisoned and with nowhere to go for those who still resided within the Groten ship's tanks, this portion of its species was destined to die. So many Goh were in those tanks, thousands, perhaps even the last of them. The war between the Groten and their foes had lasted so long that the Goh population was decimated. All that survived would be those who managed to reach water on the few other planets the Groten had landed.

Primus let its thoughts fade and tried to settle itself for a quiet death. So lost in its own misery it wasn't sure when the host's mind awoke. With no reason to continue, Primus had long stopped monitoring the entity, though remained connected to it. But now that Primus sensed the host's growing alertness, it felt compelled to apologise to this being for all the harm it had caused. It shared its apology, yet to its surprise, Primus did not sense the self-pitying it expected. Instead, it sensed something much more powerful within the host's mind. Though it knew it was dying, the host found strength of will Primus thought impossible to harbour in such a state of decline. It pulled on this strength and through willpower alone, it managed to do something Primus didn't expect.

The host attempted to communicate.

It was a strange sensation as if all Primus's own powers were being reversed so that this being might speak with it. Primus didn't understand why the host would wish to communicate, yet dared to allow the transmission via the synaptic interface it created upon entry of the host body.

The host questioned Primus. What was its nature? What did it want? Why had it hurt it? This host was intelligent, more so than any Groten. Primus found itself curious about this creature that, until now, had merely been a vessel for it and its kin. It took Primus a few moments to plan what it would say, then engaged both their minds.

We are Goh.

I am Primus.

We wish to survive.

We did not choose you as a host but were forced to.

Our existence within you is why you are dying.

We are sorry.

Primus was surprised to find the host did not react with expected anger. It seemed intrigued by the foreign entity within it. The host bombarded Primus with other questions. What was a Goh? How many of them were there inside it? Why did they come here? Why was it attacked to begin with?

Goh are peaceful.

Goh young are many within you.

We lived in the seas of our planet but were taken from our waters.

Groten use us as weapons.

Groten attacked you as they wanted to reach the stars.

Your ship was the only way.

The host was quiet for a while and Primus felt the link between them weaken. Then the host shuddered violently. Primus sensed a mournful exclamation in its mind and realised it had not shielded the host from its thoughts. They now shared, not a mind, but a complete communicative process from which the small came to understand the mighty, and the mighty finally understood the insignificant life of Goh.

Primus understood the entity was of a species called human. A species, once cut off from its own planet, now traveling the galaxy to gain knowledge and make alliances. In the same way, the host understood the Goh. It saw in Primus's mind the home of the Goh and understood their nature. Saw the Groten invasion and entrapment of the Goh and how they went on to use them.

Primus tired quickly, exhausted and in need of sustenance if it was to continue the conversation with this entity. But to eat was to bring the host pain that Primus had no intention of causing.

The host's mind heard its thoughts and said, "then, eat."

Primus was shocked by the invite.

It will hurt you and end you sooner, it replied.

But the host insisted again that it eat so that they might continue to communicate. Primus moved fractionally to the side of the host's spine, found a muscular tissue to bite into and fed. The host's mind quivered, and Primus had no illusions that had it been fully conscious, it would be screaming right now. It ate little, only enough to allow the exchange of information a little longer.

"Can we be saved?" The host asked eventually.

Primus wondered what possible reason would make this dying entity want to try and save the very things that killed it?

"Fight against the injustice…" the host replied. "I have my will to live… surely you have the same?"

Primus considered these points and realised this entity, this species, could help Goh. If only there was a way to communicate with the ones outside.

"There is… the young…"

Primus wasn't sure what that meant. The young were dormant, and even if they were not, there was nothing they could do to change the situation, only worsen it. Then it suddenly understood what the host implied. Primus shied away from the idea, utterly appalled by what it asked.

"Only enough to allow me to speak with my kind…"

It wanted Primus to let some of the infants die to sustain it. Perhaps it was no better than the Groten after all. But then, they were all doomed to die anyway, so why not risk it? Did the benefit of the many outweigh the lives of the few? In this instance, Primus thought it might. For it wasn't just itself and its kin that might be saved should this entity communicate with its own, but the entire Goh race.

"It's your decision, Primus. We die, or you survive."

You would die for us?

"I'm dying anyway," the host drawled. "No reason why you all should, too."

Primus was astounded. This human had no reason at all to sacrifice itself for them. In fact, it should be throwing itself on fire to destroy them. Yet while its need to save them was inexplicable, Primus did understand. Primus shared the same burning desire to save its kin and would die for them if it meant their survival. This strange creature, of a species never touched or sensed by any Goh in all their history, might be the one host that would deliver all Goh.

It was a cruel necessity to waken the infants, for Primus could not control their bodies and make them kill themselves. It was forced to explain to the young what was needed, and Primus was shocked to discover the young understood the situation much more completely than itself. After a brief transmission between themselves, almost a third of the young volunteered to disperse within the human's blood and flood it with the nutrients they had stolen. It would not repair the human's body, but it would release the much-needed energy to allow the human to awaken and speak with its kin.

Primus mourned their deaths. For a moment there were a thousand beautiful Goh minds, then so many of them disappeared in an instant. Primus sensed the host's mind speed up, the surge of energy flooding the dying brain and fully awakening it. Sensed the host's systems fluttering to life and sensed the moment it opened its eyes.

Primus hoped their sacrifice would be enough to ensure their survival.

To be continued... :D

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

John lay deathly ill and motionless on a bed of straw in the centre of a small barn. He looked cadaverous, so much so that Rodney might have believed he was looking at a corpse if he wasn't watching the rise and fall of John's shallow breathing. He willed each breath and worriedly waited for the next as the village leader continued to deny them help.

"He can't be here," Sama repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

"We have nowhere else to go," Teyla replied calmly, though Rodney saw the tension in her jawline. "Our ship has gone and the creatures who attacked us are still in the woods."

"It doesn't matter, Fen Emagan. He can't be here."

Ronon shifted on his makeshift seat atop a bale of hay as another villager strapped his broken arm across his chest. "If you don't want him here, then you know what's wrong with him," he growled.

Sama nodded, his eyes widening as he whispered, "trivialities."

Rodney barked a derisory laugh. "Trivialities?" he shouted, moving his hands in a wide-sweeping action over John's unconscious form. "Does any of this look trivial to you, Sama?! I mean, what part of him dying is so trivial?!"

Sama's eyes narrowed as he looked to Rodney, hand tightening on his wooden cane. "The creatures within him, we call them trivialities."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense," Rodney flared. "What do you call the Wraith? Huh? Fluffy, cuddle bunnies?!"

"Rodney," Teyla admonished gently and placed her hand on his to impart some comfort.

He wrenched his hand away and shouted, "no, this is wrong, Teyla. This is so wrong. We came here last year, answered their call for help when that plague swept through the village and into the city. We saved them, but now that we need their help, they refuse us?!" he spat furiously.

"It's not that we refuse, Fer McKay, it's that we are unable to help him."

"Oh just stop with the honorifics if you are going to insult— wait, what?" Rodney's tirade faded and he swallowed painfully as he processed the words.

"We cannot help Fer Sheppard because we do not have the means to do so. Trivialities infected a third of our village and we could not save even one who fell to them."

Rodney filled with dread and looked to John. "Are you saying nothing can be done for him? Like, at all?"

Sama looked away and lowered his head.

"No," Rodney replied, shaking his head violently. "No, he's not dying. Someone here must be able to help him, we just need to find the right someone."

"Trivialities are not native to our planet," Sama said quietly. "The danu brought them here when their ship crashed two moons ago, therefore we know too little about them to help in this instance, Fer McKay."

"Danu?" Teyla inquired.

Sama sighed wearily and scratched at his temple. He stepped back and sat heavily on a hay bale, both hands gripping his walking cane. "The creatures who attacked you, we call them the danu. When their ship crashed we tried to help them. Only they attacked us and many of our people fell under their fire and claws. The danu disappeared into the woods and we came back to the village to bury our dead and tend the injured. But, we watched as the injured were consumed from within, and others wandered away to burst upon the banks of our great lake. Our warriors managed to capture a dying danu and took it to Central City for interrogation."

Rodney winced. He'd seen the machine at Central City and knew how it extracted information from the minds of whatever was strapped to it. He'd been shown an example of this the first time he toured the city, and he'd seen what became of the wraith who was forced to provide him with the demonstration as knowledge was ripped from its mind.

"The danu provided useful information," Sama continued, "and we discovered much about them. They are at war with a neighbouring planet against creatures far greater and superior to them. The danu discovered the trivialities on their moon whilst in search of food. The tiny beast's ability to rapidly consume as well as their electrical properties gave the danu the idea of making them into weapons to conquer the behemoths they fought. This particular ship of danu was apparently on a return run from their planet to take the last of the trivialities to the front lines. We cannot confirm this as we have not dared to enter the fallen ship. Because not even the danu could offer a cure for the trivialities."

"It was you who destroyed the lake," Rodney whispered aghast.

"Yes, in an attempt to destroy the trivialities. We knew some had made it there and flourished. We took no chances, so destroyed the very thing they live in."

"You said attempt," Teyla said, "are you saying it didn't work?"

Sama shook his head. "The wandering wounded simply headed for other waters, and we can not poison all of our water or we ourselves will perish."

Rodney didn't know what to say or where to look. His friend was dying and this time, there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. Maybe he could have accepted the inevitability had John been shot by normal bullets. Maybe he could understand his dying if he'd been blown up, struck by a Jumper, killed in a Jumper crash or even fed upon by a wraith— all of which John had survived in the past. But to die as he did now, and because of such small, insignificant creatures, just seemed wrong. John Sheppard couldn't die from this. He just couldn't. And yet he was dying, right before Rodney's eyes, consumed by beings small enough to flow through his veins. He could even see them as he watched John. They were big enough now as to make his blood vessels bulge oddly. And what if they managed to get the trivialities out of him? How could he possibly survive the starvation he'd been subjected to while his tissues and blood were fed upon?

Rodney took a step back, then another, and another and soon he was outside, moving across the clearing with no real destination in mind. He just had to get out of that barn. That they'd even thought to sequester John to such a place was an outrage. This village, this clean and bustling village of wealth and grandeur, and they'd placed John Sheppard in a barn where calves were birthed and oxen slept. There wasn't one thing about this entire situation that was right and it ate at Rodney, made him so angry he could… murder a denu.

This was all their fault. The trivialities were simply products of the denu war, therefore, the beasts that set upon them were the reason for John's impending death. Rodney marched towards the woods, intent on finding a denu and making it pay for all its kind had done. But he faltered just before the treeline, eyes scouring the darkness within and realised there was no way he'd ever be able to take down such a creature. Ronon killed three and had almost lost his life while doing so. It had taken Caronaa warriors, men and women within biomechanical suits, to bring back even a dying one. So, what made Rodney think he could do it? His anger deflated as quickly as it had arisen and Rodney saw his bravado for what it was.

The second stage of grief.

He'd already passed the first stage, denying John was dying. He'd been telling himself this was just another close call that John would pull through and get back to normal. But Sama's words told him otherwise so he'd taken the leap into the next stage with his anger at the situation. Rodney knew that bargaining came next, but he had nothing to bargain with and believed in no God with whom to make a deal. He dropped and sat on the ground, pulling his legs up against his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He buried his head within the hollow created by his knees and arms and sniffed sadly.
What was he going to do without John? What would he be without John?

Sheppard had played a huge part in moulding the man Rodney was today and he just couldn't see himself continuing to function as he did without the man's constant friendship. People might argue and say the team had moulded him and to an extent that was true. But what would keep them together when John died?

Rodney really had no one except the team. And once John died, the chances of them staying together were zero. It would be disbanded and assimilated into other teams and Rodney had no doubt that there wasn't a commander who would have him. Teyla and Ronon would undoubtedly be given command of their own team and this would leave Rodney back in the science labs, doing ordinary stuff with other scientists who didn't really like him. With the exception of his sister, John was the only family Rodney really had, so he would have no one when he returned to Atlantis. It was a depressing thought.

He thought maybe he was being rather selfish sitting there thinking only about himself and his future as John lay dying. He should be by John's side, comforting him since he couldn't help him. But Rodney didn't want to watch his best friend and honorary brother, die. It would kill him to witness John's death. But if this was the final thing he could do for the man who made him who he was, then Rodney decided he should be there when it happened.

He got back to his feet and returned to the barn, never realising he'd sped through the other stages of grief in order to reach this decision. Once inside, the others simply nodded and smiled tightly, as if they had endured the same internal battle and understood only too well what he was going through. Rodney approached and knelt by John's improvised bed of hay, imagining the man's condition had worsened during his brief absence.

Then John's eyes slowly opened and tried to focus on the people around him. They frantically searched until they found Rodney and when they finally did, John smiled. It was a weak smile, but it gave Rodney the impression that Sheppard was not ready to give up the ghost just yet. He spoke, haltingly and weakly, his voice barely a whisper.

"You have to save them," he breathed, his eyes slowly closing. "I know you can. Do it for me."

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

For the first time, Richard Woolsey wasn't going to send a report in on time. It would tarnish his impeccable record. But for once, he didn't care.

He sat staring at his tablet and the half-written document he started an hour before. The weekly report mostly covered the problems of the day to day running of the city, pretty much the same thing every week. Occasionally he would get to send back something interesting, like a new medicine found on a planet, or details on new life forms discovered. This report had none of these things. The most interesting part of it would be the disappearance of Sheppard's team, and he had nothing to say about that.

He wasn't sure if he should include the disappearance just yet. He had no information, received no communications as to their whereabouts or wellbeing. He couldn't even hazard a guess over their disappearance and certainly didn't wish to prematurely write them off.

Lorne was already on his way to Caronaa. In readiness of worst-case scenario, Woolsey had insisted Carson Beckett also attend. The Scottish doctor wasn't exactly pleased to be added to the crew manifest, stating that he'd had an argument with some doctor on Caronaa. Carson went with Lorne regardless of his mumblings, as he always did.

The Gate wooshed to life a little after eleven at night. Woolsey put down his tablet and hurried from his office.

"It's a communications from Major Lorne, sir," Chuck said.

Woolsey nodded and Chuck opened communications.

"This is Atlantis, what's happening Major Lorne?"

"Sir, we're above the planet but so far haven't been able to communicate with Colonel Sheppard's team. We're about to head inland in case they are within the dampening field."

"And what about the ship Zelenka said would be there?"

"Oh, it's here, sir. Sending back images, now."

A screen to the right of Chuck connected with a signal from across the galaxy. On it, Woolsey saw the crashed ship and the beings moving about it. The ship was huge, far bigger than the Daedalus though nothing compared to a Wraith Hive. Its hull was of red pitted metal, long lines of the stuff laid in plates across it much like sections of a spiderweb. Between each plate were thinner lengths of blue metal, in which lights were set every few meters. On its top was a cannon array, or at least, what Woolsey took to be one. Each cannon seemed wide enough to fire a car and there were three of them, each with its own independent turret. The ship had landed partially on its side. In the rear section was a massive, ragged hole; a possible reason for the crash. Evidently, the impact had been at speed as there was a gouge in the ground that stretched at least a mile back from the crash site.

Woolsey looked closer to the screen to get a better view of the creatures moving around the ship. Some crawled over the damaged section, hauling new metal plates into place. Others were fixing the plates in place with arcing light of a strange, green hue. Still others wandered around the crash site, holding peculiar weapons Woolsey hadn't seen before.

Perimeter guards, he presumed.

To the front of the ship were a number of creatures moving large, dark tanks of fluid on floating platforms. He thought they might be fuel canisters as the creatures moved them with great care. They were unlike any creature he'd seen but from their size and aggravation towards each other, he knew they were dangerous.

"Major Lorne, maintain radio silence in case these creatures are the reason AR-1 is missing. Don't land until close to Central City. I expect an update as soon as possible."

"Roger that, Lorne, out."

Woolsey returned to his office. He lifted the tablet and stared at it for a few moments then put it back down with a tired sigh. The report could wait a little longer. He had other things to attend to, like, providing backup to both Lorne and Sheppard's teams.

Having seen the ship, its size, and inhabitants, Woolsey knew the danger on Caronaa would require more than just one rescue team. Should Lorne's ship go down, it would be another four hours before backup could be sent for them. So Woolsey made the decision to send another two Jumpers. He hailed majors Stackhouse and Teldy and told them to muster teams for immediate deployment.

Anne Teldy arrived less than four minutes after he hailed her, fully kitted up with three of her teammates. Woolsey stood, feeling rather inadequate before the all-female team and their aura of strength.

"What's happening, sir?" Teldy asked as she checked her comm.

"There is a problem on Caronaa."

"Caronaa? What could possibly go wrong there? With the exception of the plague, those people could hold off an army of wraiths if they had to."

Woolsey lowered his eyes and pushed his tablet across the table. "Colonel Sheppard's team are missing. We've had no communication since they left. Major Lorne is there now, and sent back this."

Teldy regarded the tablet, her eyes widening at the sight of the heavily armoured craft.

"You think these beings are involved with their disappearance?"

"It's a possibility. That ship is big enough to take on the Daedalus and more."

"I doubt it," Teldy remarked. "Not with that amount of damage."

"Perhaps, but consider the creatures around it."

Teldy leaned closer, as did Dusty Mehra, the only other surviving member of Teldy's original team. Both their faces were grim as they watched the creatures mill around the craft.

"They must be what, ten feet tall?" Mehra asked.

"Maybe more," Teldy replied and pushed the tablet back across the desk. "We're ready to head out. Caran is already in the Jumper bay getting things set up," she said, referring to the fourth member of her team.

Woolsey nodded as he pulled the tablet in front of him and stopped the video. Stackhouse stepped into the office. He'd been promoted to major following the death of Major Leonard and both his and Teldy's teams made up AR-3 and AR-4. Stackhouse's team comprised of large, burly men who dwarfed the female team, yet Woolsey had no doubt Teldy's team were just as strong, efficient, and deadly.

"There is to be no interaction with the downed ship or its occupants. At this time we don't know if they have anything to do with AR-1's disappearance, although, that may be a possibility. I want one team on standby watching that ship at all times. The other will join Major Lorne with the search for the missing team. If these creatures attack, you have permission to return fire, but you will not engage if there is no hostility."

"We'll meet up with Major Lorne," Teldy said. "My copilot, Nara, is a good tracker and can help search for Colonel Sheppard's team on the ground."

Stackhouse nodded. "Makes sense. We will remain cloaked in the vicinity of the downed ship and relay messages back to Atlantis."

"Okay," Woolsey replied clapping his hands together. "So we have a plan. Report in as soon as you arrive."

The teams headed to their Jumpers and Woolsey watched them depart for Caronaa several minutes later. He returned to his office and picked up his tablet and sighed. To hell with Stargate Command and all the bureaucracy. He'd write the report once he had something solid to report back. In another life and on another world such a thought would never have entered his head. But his life was different now. He made decisions he never would have on Earth and took risks he would have run from previously. Since arriving on Atlantis, taking command and seeing how life ran in this galaxy, Woolsey came to understand that all the things that Earth demanded were not on any list of priorities here, and nor should they be.

Atlantis wasn't an extension of Stargate Command in any real sense. It was a colony, a family, all fighting to survive in a place they were never meant to be. It changed how one saw things, how one thought of things and ultimately how one acted and reacted as a result. No, Stargate Command could wait for his report, because Richard Woolsey was not the same man who walked through that gate on Earth. The man who stepped onto Atlantis was a very different man and one who cared more for the people who worked beneath him than he could ever show.

To be continued... Fat dragon? Never heard of it. COOKIES!

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Rodney was freaking out. He tried to hide it, kept on working while his heart broke and his mind tired. He was losing the battle and John was dying. This would normally hurt him on the egotistical level, but it was more than that. He just couldn't face losing John.

The place was transformed after John woke. Sama still wouldn't allow him to be moved into the village, but he did at least order a mattress and linen to be brought for him. He also sent for the village doctor to help in any way she could. John was hooked up to a saline drip, and a tube was passed through his nose and down into his stomach to feed him. The doctor said that nourishing him in this way after such malnutrition could be dangerous. Rodney asked why and was met with an explanation that only Carson Beckett would understand. Rodney just nodded. The infusion might keep John going a little longer and save more Goh from sacrificing themselves. That was all he was interested in.

John fell unconscious soon after he awoke. He'd mentioned Goh, Groten, war and species annihilation. The tiny creature's invasion of John happened without any malicious intent. It had simply been a make-do reaction to their captivity by danu. John mentioned that the Goh were dying, that he was dying. All he wanted was for the team to help the Goh survive. To what end? To die so that they could live?

Rodney wouldn't allow it.

With a new perspective on things, his mind churned over the scant facts John had told them.

Goh were the trivialities. They were able to control and communicate with a host in order to survive. From this Rodney surmised there would be some kind of synaptic and neuronal communication going on and thought perhaps this was something he could use. He'd asked Sama for help, knowing that now John had spoken, it had spurred the leader's interest. The people of Caronaa were peaceful, intelligent, and inquisitive. Their technological advances didn't pull them too far from their simple lives but rather supported it. At Rodney's request, Sama sent for the village scientists with an order for electronic essentials and one of their bio-suits.

As well as for defense, the Caronaa warriors used the bio-suits to work in the forest without fear of the creatures that resided there. Large mechanoid machines made of a blue metal, with strong arms, three-fingered hands and an array of weaponry. A hatch in the back allowed the users to enter, and a neuronal interface allowed the user to become one with the machine. It was this interface that Rodney needed.

Apparently, curiosity had allowed Sama to overcome his fear of what resided within John. He even offered to help Rodney, keen to watch what he was doing.

"Now that there is something in it for you, you want to help?" Rodney remarked scathingly.

"It makes sense to help, Fer McKay," Sama smiled unfazed. "What we discover today, will ultimately help us tomorrow."

Rodney sneered and took the bio-suit controller Sama offered. "Just, keep out of my way."

It took Rodney twenty minutes to extract the interface from the suit and enough cabling for what he wanted. He sat buddha-style on the floor beside John's bed. Cables and pieces of electronics lay before him. He pulled his tablet onto his knees and started testing the three cables from the interface. Happy with what he read on the screen, he proceeded to open the interface and solder a fourth cable to the processor. Lost in thought and deep in his work, Rodney waited for John to wake again so that he might communicate with the one Sheppard called Primus. Not to save it, but to save John.

It was a shock to Rodney that the creatures he'd seen pouring from the carcass at the lake were in any way intelligent. He'd believed them to be purely parasitic beings, living wherever life would sustain them. To discover there was intelligence there, and also vast, ancient knowledge meant they might know of a way to save Sheppard.

As he worked, Teyla cleansed and dressed John's wounds under the watchful eye of Rella, the village doctor. Rella explained that the wounds were worse and not healing due to the Goh feeding on his tissues and blood. They could not heal even though the Goh had stopped feeding, as John was so poorly there wasn't enough in his system to heal them. Therefore, Teyla attended to them to prevent infection while muttering prayers to the Ancestors. This thoroughly annoyed Rodney due to the fact her Gods were simply their long-dead ancestors. Maybe his irritation was because he was tired. The Caronaa version of coffee wasn't as stimulating as that back in Atlantis. And it tasted awful. He had to do without and his thought processes were paying for the lack of decent caffeine. Rodney rubbed his eyes, chose to put the cabling down and take a short break. He listened to Ronon instead, as he conversed with the village warriors about their bio-suits.

Without their mechanical suits, they were just ordinary men and women, scientists and soldiers combined. One was a woman named, Orna, just returned from patrol and still in her suit.

"Do you use the suits against the danu?" Ronon asked as Teyla joined him in the conversation.

"We do, yes," Orna replied. "But the danu are stronger even than the bio-suits. A few of us have died in twisted metal due to the denu strength."

The reply obviously left Ronon disheartened as he winced and sat on a haybale. "They didn't harm them at all?" he asked as he rubbed his broken arm.

Orna moved fractionally and the bio-suit raised its arms. The powerful hands opened and closed. The weapons came online one by one then powered down once the show of power was over. "Yes," she replied. "Of course we did, Fer Dex. The suit weapons were designed for use against the creatures of the forest, after all. This is why the denu don't enter the village. But, the denu have strange and fast-moving bodies, Fer Dex, which makes close combat impossible."

Ronon nodded thoughtfully.

So between prayer girl and muscle boy, the only one doing any real work is, me, Rodney thought. I seem to be the only one even remotely concerned about John himself.

He returned his attention to the job at hand. He finished soldiering the three cables, then connected the interface to the laptop. Rodney checked that both devices were communicating and proceeded to strip a fourth cable which was attached to the opposite side of the interface.

"Rodney…"

He saw John had awoken and dropped everything to lean closer. "Hey, how do you feel?"

"Perfectly peachy…"

Rodney shook his head. "Tough guy to the end, huh?"

"Have you come up with a plan?"

"You doubted me?" Rodney quipped but saw John's eyes fluttering heavily so hurried to speak before the man passed out again. "Okay. So I've taken an interface from one of the bio-suits and connected it to the laptop so that we can communicate with Primus itself. These cables will—"

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"If I can communicate with Primus, it might be able to help us save you."

John's face clouded with anger. "That's not what I asked you to do, Rod—"

"Did you really think I was going to give you up without a fight?! Huh?!" Rodney snapped furiously. The room around him fell silent. He looked and saw the eyes of all present watching him and found he didn't care.

John said nothing, just watched him as the others did. Rodney couldn't help himself and let loose all his pent-up frustrations and spoke from his breaking heart. "Now that there is some modicum of hope, do really think I will give up and let you die? You can't ask me to give up on you, John. You just… can't. And I won't. Don't tell me not to try this, don't tell me to let it go and lose you, for… for them!" Rodney's eyes welled with tears. "You're the only family I have here, John. You're my brother," he looked down at his hands and whispered, "how can I let you die?"

John coughed weakly and closed his eyes. He swallowed thickly and said, "Tell me the plan."

Rodney wiped his eyes and looked around, but everyone had either looked away and got on with their own work or left the barn. Rodney cleared his throat and pulled himself together. He lifted the interface he was working on and showed it to John. "You say this Primus is an all knowledgeable being. With this interface, I should be able to communicate with it and you can conserve energy. If this works the way I think it will, and it will because I made it—"
"Rodney…"

"—then while we formulate a plan to save Primus and its kind, it can help us to help you."

"If there was a way, don't you think Primus would have mentioned it?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't know it personally. I can only assume it hasn't thought of saving you because, like you, it thinks there is no way to do so."

John opened his eyes again. He stared at Rodney quietly, making him feel rather uncomfortable after a while.

"You can't fix everything, Rodney," he whispered. "You can't fix me."

Rodney looked away and to the pieces in his hands. "I know. But I have to try," he replied sadly.

John continued to stare at him until his eyelids slowly closed. "Yeah," he whispered. "I love you too, you big lemon."

Rodney chuckled and went to reply, only John was already losing consciousness. He hurriedly dropped everything, took hold of and gently shook John's shoulders. He felt none of the muscle John once possessed. The Goh had drained him so much he was almost just skin and bone.

"Tell Primus I'll insert a connection into your spine!" Rodney shouted despairingly. "Tell it to use it to communicate with us. John? John?!"

John's eyes were closed and there was no sign that he heard Rodney's desperate pleas. He released John's shoulders, sat back on the ground, and wept. He tried to hide his tears from everyone else in the barn, hoping his moment of weakness went unnoticed.

But someone did notice.

Rodney flinched when he felt a hand touch his arm. John's trembling hand gently tightened in reassurance and Rodney saw his eyes open once more.

"I told Primus your plan," he whispered. "It says to do it soon."

To be continued... Feed meh more cookies! :D

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Following Rodney's heartbreaking conversation with John, Teyla needed time to herself. While she'd yet to fully breakdown like Rodney, she was sure spending another minute within the barn would hasten such a display of emotion. She was also sure Ronon felt the same, though the Satedan would never willingly show it. His rare shows of affection were often limited to the occasional hug or warm smile, but Teyla could see the toll John's situation was taking on him. She shared their pain and sorrow, but someone had to keep it together to see them all through this.

She wandered through the village taking in the sights and smells while watching the warriors parading back and forth along the tree line in their bio-suits. Occasionally, one would fire into the trees and Teyla would hear the screeching of a dying, giant insect. She wondered how such creatures had evolved on this world. Most planets with humanoid inhabitants as the dominant species were the same as her own planet; insects and wildlife similar in the size of native cousins back on Earth, or so Rodney said. But the beasts and insects of Caronaa were so different Teyla wondered if, like the Goh, they were foreign to the planet.
As she wandered towards a pond in the center of the village, Teyla looked into the sky, seeing the sun was much lower than before. Had it really only been a few hours since they were attacked? To Teyla it felt like many days had passed since they set foot on Caronaa. In such a short period of time, they had been attacked, lost their ship, and had been injured— even almost died. It was a bad day from the start.

Now they were losing John, and all Teyla could think about was what would happen when they did. Usually the hopeful one, Teyla found herself considering life without the team to which she had grown accustomed. Three strong men, all with their own personalities and traits, all of whom drove her insane— though she loved each of them dearly. She had a special connection with John, one forged in the heat of battle. He was different from most other men of Earth. He'd shown compassion and loyalty to her people within hours of meeting them. Such a thing was rare in this galaxy. Living under the threat of the wraith meant most people lived for themselves and for the day. John went on to prove his basic personality was a loyal and loving one, caring beyond himself and for others often beyond his limits. To lose John would be to lose the heart of the team.

She stopped by the pond, unable to suppress a quiet sob that made her eyes tear. As she wiped the tears away, her com suddenly sparked to life in her ear.

"... Colonel… respond… is Lorne… respond…"

Teyla quickly tapped her earpiece. "Major Lorne?! Major, this is Teyla, it's good to hear your voice!"

"...Teyla… within range… dampening… five minutes…"

"Major Lorne, please hurry! Colonel Sheppard has—"

Static exploded from the com and ended the conversation. Teyla ran back towards the barn to inform the others. Hope blossomed within her, for they now had a way to get John back to Atlantis and hopefully treated and saved.

She ran inside to see Ronon holding John on his side while Rodney and Rella worked on his back.

"What are you doing?" Teyla asked as she came to a halt beside them.

"We're placing a wire connected to the synaptic interface into John's spine so that Primus can communicate with us," Rodney replied.

"I just had Major Lorne on the com, he is on his way. Perhaps it would be better to leave Colonel Sheppard alone until we get him back to Atlantis?"

"Technologically speaking, there is little difference between here and Atlantis on how he would be treated. He's too ill to travel four hours in the Jumper, he won't make it to Atlantis," Rodney said as Rella finished placing the thin wire and taped it down. "Not without help from Primus."

"And you think this will allow you to converse with Primus effectively?"

He nodded to Ronon who gently laid John onto his back. "We're about to find out," Rodney said staring at his tablet.

Minutes passed and nothing happened. Rodney pressed at the tablet numerous times but the text box remained empty. "This should be working," he said frustratedly.

"Teyla, Lorne. We are within the dampening field and north of Central City. What is your location?"

"We are in the main village south of your location, just outside of the forest. Please hurry, Major. Colonel Sheppard is deathly ill."

"I have Doctor Beckett with me and will be with you in a few minutes. Hold tight."

The com fell silent and as it did, the tablet in Rodney's hands came to life.

This is Primus.

"Yes!" Rodney said elatedly.

Am I conversing with the one-kin known as McKay?

Rodney grinned, speaking the answer he simultaneously typed into the tablet. "Yes, this is McKay. I'm hoping you can help us."

I am unsure how I can.

We are dying, McKay.

Limited energy, therefore limited time.

We can not afford to lose more kin.

"No no no, I'm not asking you to let more die. I need you to come up with a way to save Sheppard, while we save you and your… infants."

I know of no way, McKay.

Rodney huffed irritatedly and said, "So, you have the same defeatist attitude that Sheppard currently has, huh?"

It is not an attitude, McKay, it is a fact.

"Look, all I need you to do is stop feeding on Sheppard, allow us to find a way to help you, while you search all that great knowledge of yours to save our friend, our kin."

I have already instructed the infants to lay dormant.

We will not eat, but we will also not survive much longer without doing so.

Teyla was reading over Rodney's shoulder and looked to Rella. "Is there some way we can keep the Goh alive long enough to save John?" she asked.

Rella looked doubtful and was about to speak when Rodney raised a hand to silence them.

"Wait," he said. "Wait a second."

Teyla saw his eyes roving back and forth as he thought. His mouth twitching as he silently mouthed words of his mind. Then he snapped his fingers in the air.

"If we could get the Goh safely out of him and into a vat of water, then maybe we could get John into a… a stasis pod until we can help him. Give him more time, and save them."

"We have stasis pods here," Rella informed them. "I could get one sent from Central City within the hour."

Rodney grinned then typed on the tablet. "What if we were to get you into a vat of water with enough nutrients to survive. Could you leave John without killing him?"

We would survive in suitable water.

John would not survive our leaving his body.

We are in his tissues and blood.

"What about a transfusion?" Teyla asked.

Rella shook her head. "Your blood differs from ours, a transfusion of such would kill him."

"Wouldn't work anyway," Rodney replied. "Just the mechanism of the transfusion would kill the Goh. Plus, I don't think John could survive a complete transfusion right now."

Primus spoke again.

If we leave John's body, he will die.

Are you so sure you wish to save us if it will kill him?

"He wants us to save you," Rodney said and typed angrily. "I will ultimately stand by his decision. But you need to at least try to find a way to help him."

Then I will try to find a way to save your kin.

There was a noise outside and Teyla hurried out to see a Jumper landing. She waited for the craft to land then made her way to the rear. The first out was Carson Beckett, who strode quickly towards her with a grim expression.

"It's great to see you, Carson."

"What has the colonel got himself into now?" he asked.

"It's not what he has gotten himself into, rather, what has gotten inside of him," Teyla replied.

Carson blankly stared at her then said, "I'm gonna need a wee bit more information than that, lass."

As she led them to the barn, Teyla informed Carson and Lorne about what had transpired since they left Atlantis that morning. By the time they had their first view of John, all were fully apprised of the situation. Her words clearly didn't prepare them for what they would see as Lorne and Carson abruptly stopped a few yards inside the barn, both clearly shaken by the sight of John's withered and lifeless form.

"Oh dear God," Carson whispered.

Teyla's heart sank. The look upon the doctor's face was of such fright that the hope which had swelled within her before, dissipated within seconds to be replaced by bitter hopelessness.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

"Oh thank God," Rodney muttered when he saw Carson. "Maybe now we'll get somewhere."

Carson hurried to John's bedside and kneeled. "Are you saying this happened over the course of only a few hours?" he asked and pulled something from his pocket.

"Yes, though Primus assures us they are no longer feeding," Rodney replied.

Carson shook his head as he moved a handheld medical scanner over John's body. "There are hundreds of them throughout his entire system. I can't even begin to imagine how much damage they've caused."

"Unintentionally," Teyla reminded him.

"Unintentional or not, I doubt even the colonel can survive this. I'm reading malnutrition of irreversible levels. Impending, multiple organ failure. How he's even alive is beyond me."

His words numbed Rodney. The fleeting hope on seeing his doctor friend arrive disappeared like smoke. Panic set in, and insidious despair permeated his mind and conjured within Rodney a fit of anger which made his blood pressure rocket.

Behind him, Teyla sighed. "He is still alive because those within him are trying to save him, giving him time to heal," she said patiently.

"Save him?" Carson said incredulously. "If they intended to save him, they might have stopped consuming him a little earlier! From what I can see, there's not enough left to regenerate. Healing is impossible! Look!" he said, pointing to the small bulges in John's neck. "Look at the size of the things!"

"Carson!" Rodney snapped, his eyes blazing. "Can you think of a way to help him or not? We're running out of time and your doom and gloom aren't helping."

"Eh, pot, kettle, Rodney," Carson snapped back. "We all know you're the doom and gloom merchant around here."

Rodney shook with rage. He dropped the tablet in his hands to the ground as his anger consumed him. He threw Carson a withering look and his hands clenched by his sides. "Do you think we don't know how grave this situation is? I can assure you, we understand oh-too-clearly that our friend is being eaten from the inside out and that we will soon lose him!"

Carson lowered his gaze as his face reddened. "Aye, I guess you are. I'm sorry. It's just a shock to see something like this."

Rodney sighed wearily, his sudden anger dissipating. "Believe me, I know."

They sat silently for a moment, allowing their heightened emotions to calm. Rodney wasn't really angry at Carson. He knew the man had reacted the way he had through shock and pessimism over which he had no control. But Rodney knew there was no time for such thinking. According to Primus, time was running out as John's system headed towards permanent shutdown which would kill John and all who resided within him.

"I was thinking stasis pod," Rodney said after a while. "It might keep John going until we come up with a way to save him. But I've no idea how to get the Goh out of him safely."

"How would they normally get out?" Carson asked.

Rodney was unable to tell him, the words lodged in his throat. He was relieved when Ronon's gruff voice joined the conversation.

"By eating, doc. By the time they are ready to leave, the host has fulfilled its function so they just eat their way out."

Rodney watched Carson's face pale, and he swallowed hard as he looked around the barn. He looked lost and unsure, something he'd never seen in the man before.

"We can't very well open his veins to let these things out, that would just kill him," Rodney said quietly. "If the Daedalus was here, we might have been able to transport them out or… or something," he finished lamely.

"Hold on…" Carson said. "Okay." he clapped his hands together. "Ask Prime… Primer, whatever. Ask it if it could escape the bloodstream if I set up a non-return valve in one of Colonel Sheppard's major vessels."

Though he raised an eyebrow at the doctor, Rodney lifted his tablet and rapidly typed the question.

Explain non-return valve, Primus responded.

Rodney typed in the answer and they all waited on a reply.

"What good will that do?" Teyla asked the doctor. "He will die whether or not they leave his body unless the effects of the Goh are treated."

"One thing at a time, lass, one thing at a time," Carson replied with a smile that inspired some confidence in Rodney.

Yes, we could exit Sheppard's body in such a way if the valve led to water and could accommodate our bodies.

"Okay," Carson turned to Rella. "Do you have such a thing here?"

Rella regarded him with clear hostility. "Of course we have. I'm sure we also have water on this planet for the tank you'll need for the Goh."

Rodney knew there was some history between the two, though couldn't exactly remember the details. "While your petty exchanges can be entertaining, this is not the time!" he hissed.

"No, it isn't," Carson admitted.

Rella huffed and relented. "I guess not."

Though the two doctors continued to eye each other venomously, they quietly compiled a list of items necessary for John and the Goh. Rodney tried to keep up but quickly lost the meaning of the conversation as it became more medically intense.

As the two doctors moved away to discuss arrangements with other Caronaa medical staff, Major Lorne took Carson's place next to John's bed, standing while gazing down at John's sleeping form.

"He doesn't look too good," he whispered.

"No," Rodney replied and picked up his tablet. "He doesn't."

Lorne lowered himself down to hunker beside the bed and looked to Rodney. "Doc, I gotta ask. What good is getting him into a stasis pod? You heard Doctor Beckett, there will be no coming back from this."

Though his words were harsh, his voice was soft and Rodney knew Lorne trying his best to make him feel better while highlighting the part of the plan no one had yet discussed. What exactly were they to do once John was in stasis? He couldn't very well stay in such a state forever. Therefore, all the pod would do was prolong their already fading hope. Lorne seemed to sense his despairing and reached to lay a hand on Rodney's shoulder.

"Sorry, doc, I'm just musing aloud."

"No, no, you are quite right, Major. I've no idea if we can do anything for him, but at least stasis gives him a chance of survival."

"What about the thing inside him, has it got a plan?"

Rodney shook his head with dismay. "No, not yet." He looked to the tablet, only to find that Primus had been trying to attract his attention.

McKay.

McKay?

Sheppard is failing.

McKay, Sheppard is failing.

I may have a plan for our survival.

To clarify, I may have a plan to save Sheppard.

McKay?

McKay?

System shutdown is imminent.

"McKay here! How long do we have?" he said as he typed.

"What's going on, Doc?"

Rodney held up his hand to silence Lorne. "Primus? Are you there?"

Long, heart-stopping moments of waiting with held breath seemed to stretch on for eternity as Rodney stared at the screen, willing Primus to reply to his query. The cursor blinked, maddeningly static. The longer the silence, the more Rodney believed something catastrophic had happened. He looked to the screen by the side of John's head that monitored his health signs, grabbed his wrist and held his finger to the pulse point.

"What is it, doc?" Lorne asked concerned.

Rodney watched both screens for any change. John's heart rate increased to dangerous levels, spiking on the screen while pounding rapidly beneath his finger.

"Doctor McKay, what the hell is going on?"

A shudder ran through John's body, barely a tremor that lasted a few seconds before abating. Then his heart rate returned to its now-usual thready state, pulsing weakly beneath Rodney's finger while also slowing on the screen.

Then the cursor on the tablet moved.

I am here.

I apologize.

I had to eat again in order to maintain this communication.

Rodney grimaced at the confession and swiftly removed his hand from John's wrist.

"Are you able to continue?" he asked Primus.

I am sufficiently sated to keep conversing for a while longer.

"Oh, good. So long as you're sated," Rodney mumbled without typing his words. Seeing Lorne's confused expression he added, "Primus had to eat to keep talking with us."

"Eat? You mean…?"

"Yes, that was Colonel Sheppard screaming silently with pain," Rodney said sharply. Only he regretted the words as soon as he said them as Lorne flinched back and stared at John. While Rodney had been dealing with it for hours now and grown somewhat accustomed to what was happening within John, Lorne had no real appreciation until right then. Rodney was sure the horrified expression on Lorne's face was the same one he'd been wearing himself since this entire debacle had begun.

A message on the tablet drew Rodney's attention away from Lorne and back to Primus.

There may be a slim chance for Sheppard's survival.

"I don't believe it, there's a chance!" he said to Lorne who leaned over to read the tablet.

"What chance?" they said in unison as Rodney typed the words into the tablet.

The birthing valleys of our home seas could be John Sheppard's salvation.

.

Oooh to be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Carson and Lorne struggled to coordinate the delivery of the stasis pod. Rodney had to look away from the thing. The pod was a long, sleek and white box that made him shiver; it looked too much like a coffin for his comfort. They placed it at the other side of the barn for Rella to work on, then returned to John's bedside.

"Birthing valleys? What birthing valleys?" Carson asked as he checked John over.

"Primus says that the sea in which the Goh originate have underwater valleys where the young are birthed and old disperse," Rodney explained excitedly. "These valleys go on for miles in a circular track on the seafloor. A constantly moving stream of water circulating the entire Goh living area."

Lorne scratched his head and frowned. "Water moving within water? Never heard the likes of it."

"Think of it like a wind tunnel beneath the sea, only it's water. This water is densely packed with nutrients and Primus says it even has powerful regenerative properties."

"For the Goh, perhaps," Carson replied. "I doubt such water would hold anything of benefit for Colonel Sheppard."

"Is it not worth a try?" Rodney said testily. "I mean, it's not as if we have a hundred other ways to help him."

Carson checked on John and said, "Okay, say we go ahead with this. How do we get him to this underwater place and keep him alive? I doubt the water is powerful enough to initiate the growth of gills."

"Oh ha, ha," Rodney replied dryly. "I'm not saying it would be easy, we just need to figure out the details and get him there."

"There are other things to consider, Rodney. If these creatures live on the seafloor as they say, how deep are these valleys? Would the pressure of the depths kill Colonel Sheppard before we even reached the valleys?"

Though Carson wasn't inspiring much confidence, Rodney refused to give up on the idea. "Maybe the valleys aren't as deep as we think. The Goh are small, for all we know their sea is merely a river, or at least, not so deep as to create the crushing pressure you refer to. Also, shallow depths might explain how the Groten seem to be able to harvest them so easily."

"Even so," Carson continued, relentless in his fault-finding. "How do we get him there? How do we submerge him? How do we keep him breathing? Plus, we don't even know where the Goh homeworld is!"

"Ah, but we might know where it is," Rodney said smugly. "Sama already told us they put a Groten in the extraction chair, so, Central City should have information for where the planet is located."

Carson looked to Rella who nodded then raised her communication device to request the information. He then looked to Rodney and sighed. "Even if we find the planet, we've no way of placing him in the water for any length of time in a way that wouldn't harm him. Even if this water is as good as Primus says, I doubt it would be a quick dip in and back out."

Rodney's enthusiasm was waning. He knew Carson wasn't shooting down ideas out of meanness; the doctor was simply unable to inspire hope when none currently existed. But Rodney was sure this plan would work if they could only figure how to carry it out. He looked desperately around himself, eyes wide and anxiety spilling from him in waves he was sure the others could sense.

"The stasis pod," he eventually said. "It can be modified in some way to hold him in the water while sustaining his life." He was clutching at straws but at least it was an idea. No one else seemed to be coming up with anything other than himself and Primus.

Carson remained doubtful, but he nodded to the tablet and said, "What's Primus saying about it all?"

"Nothing much," Rodney said glumly and looked to the tablet. "It's scared to talk in case it needs to eat again. Primus is making sure that all the stuff you're pumping into John is for him and the infants."

"What if we set up some kind of nutrition for it alone to allow it to talk to us better?"

Rodney typed the words into the tablet and they both waited for a reply.

This would be acceptable.

"Maybe it can help us iron out the problems we're worrying over," Carson said with a grin. "I'll get Rella to sort something for Primus while I get the tank fixed up for John." Carson patted Rodney on the shoulder and went to walk away. "Hope is not lost yet, my friend."

Within half an hour of the new infusion being set up, John Sheppard began communicating through the synaptic interface. At first, Rodney was suspicious that it was just Primus, but a few private details released in reply to his queries soon put to bed any more suspicions.

"This is weird," John said.

"You think it's weird? You should be this side of things," Rodney replied.

"How close are we to a solution?"

"Getting there. We're looking into taking you to the Goh planet as Primus thinks it will help."

"What about the others?"

"What others?"

"The Goh in the tanks of the crippled ship? Have you got them to safety yet?"

Rodney snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me?! We will be lucky to save you!" he typed.

"What is it?" Lorne asked and moved to get a better view of the tablet in Rodney's hands.

"Sheppard wants us to save all of the Goh! The ones in him and the ones in the Groten ship!"

"Is he having a bloody laugh?" Carson called over.

"No, he's not," Rodney replied.

"I did ask you to try."

"No, you said, save them, not save all of them!"

"Final wish, Rodney. If it can be done, do it."

"I refuse to discuss final wishes, John. We don't have the resources here to do what you ask!"

"Like it or not, Rodney, the chances of my survival are slim. But the Goh can be saved."

"But… why?" Rodney typed angrily.

"Because they are the victims in this. Those tanks hold the last of an entire civilisation, Rodney. If saving them is something we can do, then we should."

Rodney hung his head and sighed. It was bad enough that John was near death, now he wanted them to save the very things killing him. As final wishes went, John couldn't have made a more difficult request. But Rodney felt he had no choice but to carry out this final wish, because it was John asking.

Major Lorne was still staring at the tablet, biting his lower lip and deep in thought. "Maybe we can save them," he finally said.

Rodney huffed with exasperation. "How?!"

"When I dialed in to let Atlantis know we'd found you, Woolsey said he'd sent another two teams behind me. They should arrive soon, so, we now have three Jumpers."

"And? You've not seen the Groten, you've no idea what they're capable of."

"Oh, I saw them, alright. We did a flyby on the way here."

"You can't possibly believe we can take on these creatures?!"

"But we should try," Lorne insisted. "The colonel is right. The Goh are being slaughtered, used in a war as weapons, doc. It's like watching genocide."

"Genocide is the deliberate mass killing of people, but I take your point. What can we do?"

"We can use one Jumper to take Colonel Sheppard, supplies and a team to the Goh planet while the rest of us go and liberate the Goh, if we can," Lorne replied.

Carson stopped working on the stasis pod and rejoined them. He seemed pensive. Rodney thought perhaps it was because it seemed John was giving up hope of coming back to them.

"But who will fly the spare Jumper?" Carson asked. "I'll need to be with Sheppard at all times if we are to save him."

"We'll need you here to fly the Jumper, Doctor Beckett. We can't be rushing into a fight without a medic on our side."

"Yeah, I thought so," he said, and Rodney watched his expression become even sadder. "I guess I have some apologizing to do."

He looked to Rodney and Lorne and shrugged, then he made his way across the barn to Rella.

"What was that about?" Lorn asked.

"I've no idea," Rodney replied and watched Cason leave.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Carson thought this day could only get worse. He reluctantly made his way towards Rella, his heart pounding and hands sweating. She eyed him coolly for a second then returned her attention to the stasis pod.

"Can we talk?" he asked, coming to a stop beside her.

The slim brunette shrugged as she dropped cabling into the pod then stood. She slipped past him with barely an acknowledgment and walked outside. Carson followed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable while thinking it was no less than he deserved. Once outside, he sighed dramatically when he saw Rella had moved quite a distance away and was still moving despite him calling her name. But, he followed as there were things he needed to say, things he'd put off for too long.

Carson had never been lucky in love, and his relationship with Rella paid testament to that. When the plague swept through her village and into Central City, Carson had worked closely with Rella to bring the infection under control. Many weeks working together turned into a closeness that neither could deny. They started seeing each other, got much closer than Carson ever had to being in love. He stayed long after the plague was treated and commuted to Caronaa on down days to be with her. Then, three months after they met, everything changed.

Carson sighed again, his shoulders dropping as he followed her along the path. He continued to call her name but Rella didn't stop, didn't respond in any way. Just kept on walking until she came to a small, white wall and leaned against it while refusing to look at him.

"Rella, we need to sort this out so we can get on with the task at hand and help Colonel Sheppard."

She didn't immediately respond, taking the time to fold her arms, raise an eyebrow and glared at him for a minute before she spoke. "Okay, so talk," she said gruffly.

Carson swallowed hard, unable to look her in the eye. He felt like a schoolboy trying to speak to his first crush, it was embarrassing. The longer it took to say the words, the more difficult it became to speak at all. Eventually, he cleared his throat and managed to look at her.

"I'm sorry."

Rella raised an eyebrow. "Sorry for what, Carson? The fact you left without even saying goodbye? For ripping out my heart as you stepped on that damned ship of yours? Or are you only sorry because you need my help now?"

"This isn't because of the current situation," he lowered his gaze and looked at his hands. "This is something I should have done months ago." He nervously played with his fingers in a show of unsureness as all feelings for this woman he'd tried to bury over the past year surfaced in one overwhelming tsunami of emotion.

Rella remained cold and bitter, completely uncaring of his discomfort. "Then why did you do it?"

Carson knew the only thing that he could do was tell the truth. Anything else and Rella would know immediately and just walk away, forever.

"I was scared, okay?"

She just stared at him. "Scared?"

"Aye. Too scared to commit."

"I don't understand."

"I've never been lucky in relationships. Usually, I'm the one left behind and hurt, so I've never been in a relationship where I've been happy for any length of time. With you it was different. I was so happy, almost too happy. I was scared I'd make a commitment only for it would all go to ruin as always. I didn't want to be the only one thinking we had something of worth. In the end, I did what I always do, sabotage the relationship so it couldn't be anything other than what I always expect, a failure."

Rella looked as if she was about to laugh and Carson just felt even worse.

"You ran away in case it was a failure so that it definitely would be a failure?"

Carson tried to smile but hearing her say it made him feel silly. "Aye, something like that."

"You know that's crazy, don't you?"

Carson nodded, feeling every inch an idiot. "I don't expect you to forgive me, heck, I hardly even expect for you to talk to me after this. But that's the truth."

Rella stared at him for a few moments. She never blinked, just stared, long and hard and Carson had to look away, feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny. She went to say something, then hesitated, pushed off from the wall, and moved past him. Carson watched her leave, feeling like the failure he knew he would be, yet this was compounded by the knowledge that his stupidity would have a detrimental impact on Sheppard and the others.

Therefore, he was shocked when Rella stopped and turned to him and said, "Well?" Are we going to save your friend or not?"

Carson hurried after her, relieved and smiling brightly when he caught up to her. "We can try, at least. If there is anyone in the galaxy that I trust with their lives, it's you."

"Don't think this means anything," she said. "Let's fix your friend first, then maybe, and I stress maybe, we can talk about us."

His relief didn't last long. He and Rella stepped through the barn door and into the middle of a fight. Ronon and Rodney were in each other's faces, angry and shouting at each other while everyone else watched on in shock. Teyla was trying to get between them, ineffectual in her attempts to split the men apart and calm the situation down. Carson was shocked to find Major Lorne was leaning against the wall by the door watching the show with a smirk on his face, evidently finding the entire scene amusing. Carson shot him a glare and Lorne shrugged self-consciously.

"Aw come on, Doc! It's McKay, taking on Ronon! I can't wait to see how it ends!"

Carson glared at him and Lorne had the sense to look away, abashed.
"Aye, I'll tell you how it ends, right bloody now!" he said then strode to the fighting men. "What in blazes is going on here?!" he shouted. "What kind of way is this to act when Colonel Sheppard is dying right beside you?!"

The two men stopped shouting at each other long enough to allow Teyla to finally push them apart. "They are arguing about who gets to go with John to the Goh planet."

"Whit?!" Carson cried. "It doesn't matter who goes! All that matters is we get him there and he survives!"

"But I want to go with him," Rodney said. "I am the only one who can keep the interface working that allows communication with John and Primus."

"Yeah, and I'm the only one who can protect him if a Groten attacks," Ronon snarled.

"God almighty, are you listening to yourselves?! You're both acting like bloody children! Don't you think all of us want to go with Colonel Sheppard and ensure his safety? I know I want to, but some of us have to stay behind and ensure his final wish is carried out!"

That stopped both men in their tracks. They both finally looked to him, suddenly unsure of their conviction.

"I need to stay behind to make sure everyone carrying out said wish is cared for, and I'm happy with my part in this. I trust Rella to ensure Sheppard's safety because she is every bit as competent as I am to keep him alive. You two need to trust each other with the job at hand and stop acting like bloody kids!"

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Rodney slowly raised his hand. "I guess I could show someone how to use the interface," he said haltingly then looked to Ronon. "I mean, it's not as if you could head into the battle with a broken arm."

Ronon huffed and looked down at his arm, strapped across his chest. "Yeah, not sure how I would fare against a Groten on any planet right now."

"But you'd do better than me," Rodney replied, suddenly more confident in his words. "I've seen you take on a wraith with one hand behind your back!"

"Yeah, and I guess I've seen your fighting skills get better over the years," Ronon replied grudgingly.

"So are we all okay?" Carson demanded.

Both men eyed each other warily, then nodded their agreement.

Carson shook his head. "Honestly, it's like being back at school with this team," he said then made his way to John's bedside to check on him.

As Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla were now holding a private discussion, Lorne decided to join Carson.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side, Doc," he smiled.

"And you're just as bad as them," Carson replied wearily.

"What? It was fun!"

"Aye, it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt!" Carson said, his eyes wandering to Rella.

She stared back at him, a slight smile to her lips. Then she nodded her head, and there seemed to be more to the gesture than just acknowledgment of his words. Carson smiled, wondering if perhaps this day might get better after all.

To be continued... feed the dragon... :D

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Team AR-3's Jumper dropped from the upper atmosphere and down to sixty feet above the ground. As it leveled out, they heard a clunking noise from the left side of the Jumper, prompting Teldy to ask for a systems check. She cloaked the Jumper and headed in the direction of Central City, flew over the crashed alien ship and, out of curiosity, hovered there for a while.

"We're not to engage," Stackhouse reminded her over the comm.

"I'm aware of that, Major. I just want to see these creatures up close, maybe learn a little about them before any chance of engagement."

The team had a good look at the ship and the creatures around it. Even Caran Muro, the team's scientist, stopped her system check to have a quick look before returning to what she was doing.

"Wow. Do you see the size of those things?" Mehra asked, leaning over Teldy's shoulder. She was chewing gum and blew a large bubble before she said, "they could take the Hulk down."

"Yes, Dusty, I can see them."

"Don't you think it's strange that they are so careful with those tanks?" Nara asked from the copilot seat. "Like, as if they were filled with explosives or bombs."

Teldy watched the working creatures, hauling tanks from the ship's interior on the floating platforms. From the rear of the Jumper came the quiet voice of Caran.

"I think it's more strange they are taking the tanks from the ship."

Teldy turned in her seat to look at Caran. "Why?"

Caran put her tablet down and made her way back to the cockpit. "They are repairing the ship, yet removing these tanks which they handle so carefully, even reverently. Why?"

"Enlighten us," Teldy said.

"I don't know, do I? But I think it's strange." Caran replied then went back to the rear of the ship.

Teldy looked to Mehra who just shrugged and returned to her position behind the pilot seat.

Having seen enough, Teldy activated her comm as she moved the Jumper over the forest. "Colonel Sheppard, Major Lorne, please respond."

There was no reply.

"Nara, do you see anything we can follow down there?"

The short blond peered out the cockpit window, searching the ground passing below for any sign. After a while, she pointed to the far left. "There, over in the clearing. That looks like a landing site to me."

Indeed, the area she pointed to was flat enough to land a Jumper and there were a few indentations in the ground that might be from just such a ship. Teldy took the Jumper closer and hovered over the spot, seeing three dead creatures with what appeared to be P90 bullet holes.

"Yeah, that looks like the work of Sheppard's team," Mehra snorted and chewed harder on her gum.

Teldy surveyed the ground searching for any clue as to which direction the team had taken. She noted a dark, muddy mark on the ground next to the apparent landing site.

"Is that blood?" she asked, pointing it out to Nara.

"Looks like it. And there are trails leaving this area," Nara pointed, "one looks as if someone was dragged. I'd say one of the team was injured and the others pulled them from here after an ambush."

Teldy activated her comm again. "Colonel Sheppard, Major Lorne, this is Teldy. Please respond."

Still no reply.

"Ok, I'll take the Jumper higher, Nara, keep an eye on those trails."

The Jumper glided almost silently above the forest canopy. Even from there, they could see the odd enormous insect moving within the trees or the giant beast native to Caronaa. Wherever AR-1 was, Teldy was sure the forest hadn't made their trek easy.

They followed the trail to the radically transformed Lake Parnak. It was disturbing to see such a place of beauty reduced to the festering sight before them. There were creatures by the lake, the same ones from the downed ship, though not as robust as the others they'd seen.

"They must be sick ones," Nara said as one creature folded over itself and dropped to the ground. "Maybe this is how they die, far away from the healthy."

Teldy didn't know or really care, as she spotted footprints leading back into the forest. She followed this trail until it was hidden by the trees then flew onwards towards the first village. She could see it on the horizon, a bright, mass of white structures against the skyline. As they approached, Teldy tried to hail the other teams again. This time, her hails were answered.

"Major Teldy, Lorne here."

"Good to hear from you major. How are they?"

"Not good. I'll fill you in shortly. Who is in the other Jumper?"

"Major Stackhouse and his team. He's waiting near the gate to relay information to Atlantis."

"Go back out of the dampening field and message him. I need you all here in the village. Get back to me, pronto."

"Roger that," Teldy signed off and turned the Jumper around.

As they flew back along the path they had taken, Teldy saw an increased movement of the creatures in the forest. It looked like a small army, all heading in one direction at a steady pace. As soon as was possible, she hailed Stackhouse and relayed Lorne's message. It appeared that their mission was a success. The missing team was found and the teams were coordinated. They could relax a little.

Right on cue, the creatures on the ground began firing on Teldy's Jumper. Three hits in rapid succession threw the Jumper into a nosedive.

"Are we uncloaked?!" yelled Teldy.

"Crap! I'm on it!" Caran shouted. The scientist cursed as she tried to get the ship under control. She ripped out crystals and pushed in cables, her hands working in a blur as she fought to keep the ship airborne. The Jumper leveled out and Teldy regained control.

The creatures continued to fire and a blast hit the viewport and smeared black goop down it.

"What the hell are they firing?!" Mehra shouted.

"I don't know, but we're getting the hell out of here, cloak or not."

"It's stuff from the tanks!" Nara said. "Look!"

Teldy watched as one creature forced the rear of its weapon into a port in the tank, withdrawing it after a few seconds then continued firing upon them.

"And by the looks of it, they're heading towards the village," Mehra commented.

Teldy took the Jumper to the upper atmosphere and activated her comm. "Major Lorne, respond!"

"He won't get it because of the dampening field, we need to go back," Caran said pulling cables out and replacing the crystals she'd removed from the system.

"Stackhouse, we are under attack and it looks as if Lorne and the others will be in trouble soon. We need backup to the southern village."

"On our way!"

Teldy pushed the Jumper's limits and flew with haste towards the village.
"Cloak is up," Caran informed her.

Taking a deep scan of the forest, Teldy could see more creatures within the trees below, working their way towards the village. Though she wasn't sure what their weapons actually did, she could see they were well armed. Behind the forward scouts, other creatures pushed one of the tanks on a floating platform, flanked by yet other armed guards.

"Wonder why they are headed to the village," Nara mused.

"Caran, can you do anything about communications? Clear up and boost the signal or something?" Teldy asked.

"Working on it now."

The creatures were moving swiftly. They would reach the village not long after the Jumper did, leaving little time to warn anyone.

"Try, now!" Caran called from the rear.

"Major Lorne, please respond."

"Lorne here, where are you?"

"We're on our way to the village. We detected movement in the forest, creatures from the crashed ship. They're heading your way and look like they mean business."

"Shit. I'll inform the village leader, get some extra warriors to the forest line."

"That won't do, Major. Multiple enemies, fully loaded. They have a tank of... ammunition."

"Whatever you do, do not engage. Go nowhere near the tanks. Get to the village for a full report."

"Roger that. We will be with you in a few minutes."

The forest fell behind as the Jumper flew towards the village. The village warriors were mere yards from the treeline, their bio-suits fully armed and ready. From the village, more warriors were hurrying out to bolster the defense. Teldy spotted AR-2's Jumper and landed close by. Lorne was heading their way. He looked pissed and agitated when the bulkhead door lowered.

"The village leader says they're coming for their ships and our Jumpers," he informed them. "We need to be airborne before they get here."

"Then why did you tell me to come back here?!" Teldy shouted.

"Because you're now officially on another mission."

"What? Stackhouse is on his way here, too!"

"I'll be heading up soon enough and will warn him, I need his help anyway. Look, this situation is no longer your concern," Lorne said as he showed Teldy and her team into the barn.

The place was bedlam. Too many people in such a small space and all too busy to acknowledge the newcomers. Rodney and Teyla were squeezing themselves into bio-suits with the help of already suited up warriors. Others were busy with a tank of water and tubing, welding it into a metal frame. Still others were moving a sleek, white pod towards a spot to the rear of the barn which looked like a bed. Carson Beckett was there, shouting orders at those around him. Teldy moved closer and saw Ronon Dex hunched over and staring at a tablet on the floor which appeared to be hooked up to—

Teldy's blood ran cold when she caught sight of John Sheppard.

"He's now your concern," Lorne said quietly beside her. "I don't have time to explain, the village will be hit soon and we need to be out of here when it is."

"Surely you need my—"

"You won't be here to help, Anne." His use of her first name brought her attention fully back to Lorne and away from the chaos around her. "You need to get the Colonel off-world and through the gate once Doctor Beckett has finished."

"But —"

"The Colonel's life now depends on your famed piloting skills. Ronon has the gate coordinates, just be ready to head out when they are."

Outside an alarm began to sound, almost like an old air raid siren from Earth, only much louder and piercing. Everyone within the barn momentarily stopped what they were doing to look towards the sound.

"Time's up," Rodney shouted. "Get him in the stasis chamber!"

to be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

John felt no pain. He could tell when someone touched or moved him, but nothing of the gnawing agony he'd experienced before. Whether this was due to Primus or the doctors who busied around him, he wasn't sure, but it was a blessed relief, regardless.

So many people filled his little world now. Other teams had arrived and everyone congregated outside to discuss plans for the upcoming retrieval mission.

While John was in no pain, he sensed himself slipping further from reality. He spent more time in a dreamlike state than awake. Though the doctors filled his failing body with fluids and nutrients, the damage caused by the Goh seemed permanent. Maybe he was too weak when treatment started, or maybe he never stood a chance to survive this encounter. He wasn't sure if anyone noticed his weakening, certain he presented so ill it might be missed by a casual glance. John was aware that Carson continually monitored him and should notice his decline. But it was more than just the failure of his bodily systems, John felt himself diminishing in consciousness. As if his mind was already shutting down ahead of his body's demise. It was such a gradual happening that it was some time before John himself noticed it. First, it was the inability to stay conscious for long periods of time. Then, once Primus connected him to the synaptic interface, it became the inability to focus even on that. Maybe this was what death was, a gradual diminishing of awareness that continued until not one spark of thought remained. He'd been so close to death on many occasions, but this was the first time he'd experienced anything like this.

Maybe because I really am dying this time, he thought.

He wasn't scared to die. He would exist, then he would not. Fear had no place in the mechanism. People feared the unknown, what might become of them once their soul slipped from their dead body. But John was past caring about such notions. He accepted his fate and with this acceptance came a calm that soothed what remained of his conscious self.

You must fight, John Sheppard.

"What's the point, Primus. I'm pretty sure I'm past the point of no return."

Not quite yet.

"Why do you care?"

Because you do.

It took John a second to understand what Primus meant.

"It was the right thing to do."

Perhaps, Primus replied. You chose to use your last words with your loved ones to save my people. Therefore, saving you is the right thing to do.

"Why? Even if you do, I'll never be the same again. I'll never fully recover from this."

I believe you could if you hold on a little longer.

Exhausted, John thought no more and drifted off into his peaceful place once more.

He snapped back into reality when he felt hands on his body, followed by the unnerving sensation of being lifted into the air.

It is time, Sheppard.

"Time for what?"

Time to go home.

The hands holding him gently lowered him onto a soft surface. Something was placed over his face, a mask for oxygen, he surmised. The surface beneath him began to expand, covering his body softly while molding to his shape. He panicked slightly as it covered his face, even though the mask administered oxygen. Had Primus not soothed him, John might have attempted to struggle and cry out, but Primus calmed his weak stirrings and agitated thoughts. Then the substance thickened until it held him secure in a spongy cocoon and John finally understood what was happening.

He must be in the stasis pod Rodney had told him about. This meant they were ready to move him to the Goh planet, ready to take him to the seas of the Goh and attempt to save him.

John thought the act was futile. How water could possibly heal him was beyond him. The very idea was lunacy, but none less than any of his own infamously hairbrained and desperate ideas.

Not lunacy, Sheppard. There is as much desire to save you within them, as there is within you and me to save my kin. That is not lunacy, Sheppard, it is love.

John went to scoff at the suggestion, but Primus was right. He'd seen and heard the desperation in Rodney's voice, he'd seen the tears in Teyla's eyes and the fury in Ronon's expression to know why they fought so hard to save him. John knew exactly why they were taking the risk to visit an alien planet and plunge him in the depths of its seas.

They were a family. He was part of that family. Losing him would hurt them as much as it would if he lost any of them. He'd once tried to explain to Teyla that he would go to the ends of the world for her and the others. He was never able to fully articulate what he wanted to say, but he got the message across, somehow. That same sentiment resided in each of them, so their actions were dictated every bit by the same love he felt for them.

"I guess I can hold on a little longer," he said.

McKay says they are about to activate the pod.

"Alright, time to get the party started."

Party?

"Never mind. What else is McKay saying?"

He asks whether you wish to be awakened if the plan fails.

John's heart stalled at the words. He knew Rodney wasn't asking if he wished to face death with his mind fully aware. He was asking if John wished to say goodbye should the worst happen. He wasn't sure how to reply. Would it be harder saying goodbye now, or later? Later, he was sure. By then they would all be in mourning anyway and he wasn't sure he wished to be around to see it.

"Tell him… tell him no. Tell him…"

Yes?

"Tell them all, thanks for trying. Thanks for being there. Thanks for being my family."

Primus said nothing in reply. For a moment John wondered if the creature had heard his thoughts then his mind was filled with words as Primus directly connected him to the synaptic interface, one last time, with the added bonus of actually hearing their voices through the tablet mic.

"We love you too, John. We have not given up hope yet. If we can save you, we will," Teyla said with the soft and confident tones which had often brought him peace through the years.

"You changed my life. Should the worst happen, I will never forget you," Ronon's gruff voice said. A rare and honest admission from the big guy. In his voice, John could hear the sorrow, which made his heartache.

There was a pause before the next stream of words.

"I know this is your way of saying goodbye, but I like to think it's a little premature." John could hear Rodney trying to be calm and confident, but his voice wavered ever so slightly, betraying his true emotions. "Since this is what it is, I have to say thank you. For making me who I am, for believing in me, for giving me a family and for being a better brother to me than I ever was to Jeannie. I will not give up, John. You're not dead yet."

John never thought he'd hear their voices again, so to hear them now made his next journey so much more difficult. He was leaving them, possibly forever. Their words would follow him until the end, and whatever the outcome of this final journey was, John was thankful to have enjoyed this final interaction with his team.

"See you on the other side, then," he replied to them.

There was a faint tingling sensation which spread from the base of his skull to the rest of his body. It became uncomfortable just before a second sensation radiated from the same spot. A soothing coolness fell over him until he was numb all over.

John Sheppard's mind shutdown as his body entered stasis. Whatever happened to him next, was in the hands of his family.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

As the hatch whirred closed at his back, Rodney suffered a moment of sheer panic. The bio-suit was a tight fit. The inside was moulded to hold him secure within the contraption. He felt trapped, while claustrophobia clawed at all of his senses. In the small space, he heard his own breathing louden as it sped up to a hyperventilation fit, so much so that the tiny window before his face fogged rapidly. Although he wasn't yet connected to the interface, the bio-suit responded to each movement he made. Its arms ticked up and down, the legs moved erratically and Rodney was sure it looked as if its knees were shaking like some cartoon robot whose circuitry had gone haywire.

He tried to focus, tried to talk himself out of the swelling panic, and face the job at hand. Orna was behind him in her own suit, making sure the hatch was secure and testing the systems against her own. She didn't say a word about his agitated dance though she surely saw it. However, Teyla, who halted donning her own bio-suit, did say something.

"Take deep steady breaths, Rodney. Try to calm your mind."

"Ca...calm my mind?! I'm-I'm-I'm stuck inside a tin can, about to take on animals I don't even understand and who will no doubt eviscerate me as soon as they get close! Yes, of course, I'll calm down! Just… give me a minute!"

Teyla just eyed him through the small window, the epitome of patience and calm. He watched her as she breathed in slowly and exhaled slowly, and copied her until his lungs no longer felt intent on suffocating him.

"Okay… I can do this…"

"Yes, you can. Just think of it as a second skin, no more, no less."

"A second skin… no more… no less…" He repeated this over and over as he followed her guided breathing.

After a few moments, Rodney felt calmer. The erratic movements of the suit halted as he gained control of his fear. Though the small window was still fogged, he could see Teyla smiling as she stepped away to get into her own suit.

Orna completed her checks and came to stand before him. She stared out of her little window and grinned.

"Next part will be a bit strange," she said. "You'll become part of the system in a few seconds. You'll sense a buzzing in your mind as the synaptic interface connects. Just breathe through it, the sensation passes quickly."

No sooner has she said the words than Rodney felt the interface connect. A sharp jab near the base of his skull made him flinch and he almost cried out. She hadn't mentioned that this would happen. Probably so he didn't panic more than he had already. The buzzing disorientated him. It was so intense he could barely think, his thoughts scrambled six ways to hell. Then, abruptly, it stopped.

It was a strange feeling, being part of a machine.

A HUD appeared, floating just above his right eye. It detailed suit integrity, weapons data, and showed a detailed 3D map of the area. On the map were white dots that represented the people around him. There were other dots, far in the distance, marked in red. Undoubtedly these were the Groten that hurried their way, though, according to the map, were still at least a mile away. Now that he'd gotten used to it, Rodney realised how remarkably comfortable the suit was. He grinned as he flexed his left hand and the suit clamped its three-fingered mechanical hand before him.

"Now we're talking!" he said gleefully.

A movement to his side caught his attention and Rodney watched as Major Teldy's team carried the stasis pod holding John from the barn. He watched until they disappeared outside and Ronon stepped in front of him.

"Keep your wits about you. Eyes on the target at all times. Remember what I taught you and you'll be fine."

Rodney nodded, which resulted in the bio-suit bobbing up and down.

"I remember you kicked my ass during my training, not sure what I actually learned from that other than the fact I'm useless at fighting with sticks."

Ronon grinned. "You got better, even with sticks."

It was the Satedan's way of telling him to take care and come back alive. Rodney appreciated the sentiment.

"Thanks," he said as Ronon walked to Teyla. "You take care, too."

Ronon merely nodded and continued walking, no doubt feeling his usual awkwardness at shows of any type of affection.

Rodney walked outside, flexing his hands and testing control over the bio-suit. It really did feel like a second skin, and he marveled at the ingenuity behind such a creation. Suits such as these would definitely come in handy back on Atlantis. Perhaps he would work on one if he survived today.

Ronon was the last to enter the Jumper and the bulkhead door closed behind him. Teyla came to a stop by Rodney's side. They both watched the Jumper take off and stared at the sky long after it had disappeared.

"Do you think it will work?" Rodney asked quietly.

"I have no doubt that everyone on that ship, including Primus, will do their very best to ensure it works," Teyla replied. "So we must ensure we save the Goh in return. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Rodney replied with a sigh.

Lorne and Stackhouse's teams headed to their Jumpers, and soon, both ships hovered a few yards from the ground. The alarm continued to sound around the village. Rodney had got so used to the sound that he barely acknowledged it. But he noted a sudden change to its tone and saw the Caronaa warriors tense in their suits.

"They are here," Orna said as she stepped up beside them.

The warriors at the treeline began to fire into the trees, as did the two PuddleJumpers. Rodney could hear angry snarls and howls as their weapons hit targets not yet visible. Then, dark, fast-moving missiles blasted out from the trees, all soaring high and far into the village. People were screaming as they fled deeper into the village and Goh were uselessly slaughtered in the first barrage. Every suited warrior headed to the treeline, Rodney and Teyla included. Soon the Groten burst from the forest, howling with anger and determined to take down anything in their path. It was frightening running towards such fury. Rodney questioned his own sanity as he raised his arm to fire upon the strange creatures that twisted and morphed to avoid all fire. The Groten were larger than he remembered. Huge furry beasts with strange anatomical build and teeth longer than a human hand. They fired their weapons at the warriors, spraying them with black sludge with living Goh within. Rodney couldn't guess at what was going through the minds of those tiny creatures as they were shot from the confines of the Groten weapons. Did they know the people they were aimed at wished to save them? Would they halt their instinct to burrow and consume if they had any idea they were being fired at their saviors? Rodney wished he had asked Primus if there was a way to communicate this to its kind to establish this very fact. Perhaps then, the Groten weapons would be all but useless, the Goh becoming inert upon firing. Then again, it would matter little, for as soon as the Groten acknowledged the impotence of their ammunition, they would simply use their bodies to do the dirty work.

Rodney watched one of the bio-suits fall. He saw a Goh smash through the little window in the helmet area and on into the face of the warrior within. He nearly vomited at the sight but seeing it only made him realise that only they could stop the Groten. The Goh were only doing what instinct dictated and would continue to do so as long as they were aimed at living beings.

Rodney roared and ran forward toward the Groten whose lucky shot had taken down the warrior.

"I can do this," he said to himself. "I am a warrior. I am—"

The beast looked his way, snarled and launched itself at him.

"...I am so dead…"

Rodney fired all of his weapons, striking the creature over and over, hoping it was enough to stop the thing from reaching him. But he hoped in vain. The Groten was upon him in seconds, ripping at his suit with claws and teeth as he screamed and twisted beneath it. Rodney used everything at his disposal to injure the Groten. The huge mechanical hands pulled at limbs until they snapped. The Groten howled with pain but didn't stop the attack. Its mouth snapped inches from Rodney's face, one tooth gouging at the tiny window he looked out of. The window cracked but didn't give, though his vision through it would be impaired by the damage.

Rodney wasn't scared, though. He was angry. And he poured all of that furious resentment into a punishing assault. He punched and pulled, twisted and slammed with arms and legs until he gained the upper hand. He grabbed hold of the Groten's shoulders and twisted hard until he sat upon the creature. He raised his hands and the mechanical arms and his mind blanked as he thought about John. In his mind, all he saw was the agony his friend had suffered. He remembered John struggling to breathe, struggling to stay alive. He recalled John's fight to survive dwindle as his body withered away. Rodney saw also the Goh he himself had pulled from John's body, dying by his hands as he pummeled them to death. Victims as much as any, and killed by his ignorance. He was so blinded by those memories and his own burning rage that he failed to register the Groten was dead until another warrior pulled him from the body.

"It's dead! Move on!" the warrior shouted as it lunged towards another, living Groten.

Rodney looked down at what he had done, lost in a moment of denial. The Groten's head was little more than pulp. Its chest was torn open, a mass of splintered bone and blood. Rodney looked to the bio-suit's hands and saw them curled up and bloodied.

He had done this. He had killed this intelligent and deadly creature. Maybe once upon a time this would have made him ill and cause him to question his morals, but not today. Right at that moment, Rodney realised that he had what it took to protect himself and his friends. He wasn't just the scientist anymore. He was every bit the warrior the rest of the team were.
Rodney McKay turned from the dead Groten and eyed up his next target, even as his mind churned through multiple ideas of how to save the remaining Goh.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

Ronon had a pounding headache. His broken arm was aching. The wounds to his chest burned and itched, and yet he sat there stoically, never saying a word about his discomfort. Instead, he kept a stony expression to ward off all queries about his well being, so he didn't have to acknowledge the fact he felt like he'd been hit by a PuddleJumper.

Inside AR-3's Jumper, tensions were running high and this didn't help his mood. What with Caran's moaning about the ships condition and Mehra's irritation at the extra bodies in the cramped space, Ronon's temper was close to breaking point.

Mehra had a point, though. The stasis pod took up a large area and those in the rear of the Jumper had to sit awkwardly during the flight. To make matters worse, there was also an argument in progress that Ronon listened to with irritation if only to take his mind off his pain.

"But Doctor McKay said we should immediately take the Jumper into the sea and extend the ship's shields to allow us to deposit Colonel Sheppard in the water as soon as possible," Caran said as they approached the Stargate in Caronaa's upper atmosphere.

"I know what Doctor McKay said, but until I see the sea and can assess any potential dangers, I will not be diving right in on the say of a scientist who has never been on the planet," Teldy replied annoyed.

"It's actually more of a moon," Caran pointed out somewhat petulantly.

"Primus said unless you stay near land, there would be no danger," Nara offered.

"And has Primus flown a Jumper before?" Teldy listened to silence before continuing. "I'll take that as a no. Look, so far as command goes, I'm in charge of this mission. I will say what we do and where we go once I've seen the place for myself. Would you expect anything different from the Colonel if he was in my seat?"

No one replied.

"I thought not. According to the data provided by Sama, it will be a five-minute jaunt once we exit the gate. That will give me plenty of time to assess the area."

Ronon rolled his eyes. Earth military were so cautious it infuriated him. If there was a threat there it wouldn't matter how careful Teldy flew or how hard she stared out the window, it would hit them just the same and they would deal with it. At least John had mellowed in this respect over the years; he was almost on Ronon's wavelength, though not quite. There remained a small measure of reserve within Sheppard that Ronon had to admire. It had, after all, saved them from disaster on several outings.

Opposite him, Rella caught his attention when she moved to obtain readings from the stasis pod.

"What's the cube for?" he asked, pointing at the contraption the Caronaa people had welded together.

"It's a tank, which we will fill with water from the sea, to allow Primus and its kind to exit John's body," The doctor replied inattentively.

"Can't you just allow them to release into the sea directly?"

She shook her head. "In order to do that we would have to open the valve in the Colonel's artery then place him in the water which could end in disaster. The valve will have to be closely monitored during the Goh release so that the Colonel doesn't bleed out, and we can only do that while he remains within the ship's shield. It would save vital seconds should the worst happen."

Ronon shivered at the words and he felt the inexplicable urge to lay his hand on the stasis pod and leaned forward to do so. Beneath his fingers, he felt the cool metal of the pod. It vibrated slightly, the mechanics inside working silently away. Within that pod was the man who had gained Ronon's trust, helped him stop running, gave him a family, and a place of belonging that he'd missed for so many years.

There was very little he wouldn't do for John. Sure, they had their fair share of arguments, but who didn't argue, especially when in heated situations like they so often found themselves?

John Sheppard wasn't like other men Ronon knew or had known. He was patient, caring and loyal to a fault. There was a time Ronon had tested that loyalty to the extreme, a time which now only filled him with guilt. Faced with the decision of choosing Atlantis or his long lost Satedan friends, Ronon had chosen badly and gone with what turned out to be traitorous scum. He'd been quite ready to leave his Lantean family behind, even though he knew his decision had wounded Sheppard. He'd seen the disappointment and hurt in his eyes when he'd told John he was leaving. When he realised his error and faced him again, John had not thrown his misjudgment in his face. He spoke nothing of Ronon's betrayal, though it was evident that's what John felt it had been at the time. He was welcomed back to the city and the team as if nothing had happened. Because that was just how Sheppard was. He held no grudges against those he loved. In fact, John went above and beyond when it came to family, friends, and even mere acquaintances.

The selfless lengths John Sheppard would go to in order to save others were so incredible as to be at times alarming, not to mention, suicidal. Driven by a horrific defining moment in his past, John felt he had a duty of care and protection to all he met, and much more besides to those he thought of as family.

Sheppard had once scaled the exterior of an Atlantis city spire in order to save the people within. He'd thrown himself into an active biohazard area, breaking umpteen rules in the process while going against Elizabeth Weir, no small action considering how close both had once been. Sheppard had faced death-by-Wraith with enough conviction to order them to let him die rather than give in to Kolya and his demands. He'd even taken on a fetal Hiveship by smashing a Jumper into the side of Atlantis in order to save Dr Keller, enduring a serious stomach wound as a result. These actions were nothing compared to what he'd done for Ronon, for Teyla, and for Rodney. Hell, he'd had a building collapse on top of him, wounding him so badly he required some serious surgery to fix him, and put said surgery off in order to rescue Teyla from Michael. The man was insane if not devoted.

This was why Ronon was convinced that what they were doing was, as Sheppard himself so often said, the right thing to do. The plan was crazy. There were no guarantees. But knowing the extremes Sheppard went to for others, with so little regard for himself, this jaunt to the Goh homeworld was simple recompense for all of his selfless acts.

"Fifteen seconds until ingress," Teldy announced from the cockpit, breaking Ronon from his thoughts.

He hurried to tap the information into the tablet. The Goh were surprisingly unaffected by the stasis pod and Primus acknowledged the news it was nearing home with a word of thanks and one Ronon was unable to understand. Perhaps it was an exclamation of some sort, though he didn't really care.

The Jumper then entered the gate in Caronaa's upper atmosphere only to burst through the Goh planet's gate and into a whole new world.

All in the Jumper headed to the cockpit to catch their first glance of Ignothia. It was unexpectedly beautiful. Ronon had wrongly assumed the place would be a dark and watery world, yet the scenes before them were breathtaking. Purple mountains stretched high into an azure blue sky as if reaching for the bright sun that beat down upon them. A jungle of thin trees with yellow bark grew so tall as to dwarf the Redwoods of Earth. The Jumper flew over herds of animals never seen by human eyes before. There were two-legged beasts, almost like Earth's bison but with bright orange pelts. Tall, four-legged animals chomped on bizarre plant-life, crimson manes flowing from their wide, angular heads. The jumper followed the path of a mighty mass of water that snaked through the mountainous landscape which stretched as far as the eye could see. The picturesque view was enough for each of them to comment on, but it was Rella who pinpointed the place's beauty.

"Carson would love this," she said breathlessly. "It looks so like how he describes the northern reaches of his homeland."

"Scotland," Ronon said. "Been there. This place isn't a patch on it."

"Then I must see Scotland one day because this is quite stunning!"

"Looks like Doctor McKay was right," Mehra said. "This seems more like a river than a sea."

"As deep as an ocean, though," Nara countered. "I'm measuring depths of three kilometers and more."

Teldy kept the Jumper over the water, mindful of Primus' recommendation. When there appeared to be no security issues, she took the Jumper to the location Primus had given them. Teldy lowered the Jumper steadily until the ship slipped beneath the clear and calm water and into a world just as stunning as the one above. Instead of mountains, there were deep valleys in the river floor. The water graduated from crystal transparency to a deep and dark blue so clean and clear it seemed almost sterile. But there were many unidentifiable denizens in this watery world. They came in all sorts of bright colours and an assortment of sizes and shapes. Some followed the Jumper for a while until a particularly large specimen scared them off. Ronon whistled softly as they all watched the gargantuan creature swim on past without as much as an acknowledgment of the Jumper.

They went deeper into darker water, so far in that light had trouble penetrating the depths. They passed a fissure which appeared endlessly deep, where strange lights glowed and darted around. Teldy slowed the Jumper to a stop near this darkened area and set the ship down on the sandy bottom.

"We're here," Teldy informed them, gazing out at the darkness.

"I guess it's time to put Primus' plan in motion," Rella said, and then everyone was moving to get John and the Goh into the water.

Whatever happened, Ronon could always say they did their damndest to save Sheppard.

)0(

Above the water, behind one of the mountains, a red mottled ship sat hidden away from any prying eyes that might exit the gate. A fury of guttural snarls and growls filled the cockpit as the Groten watching a screen saw the gate had been activated.

("Gate activation. Ship on Ignothia. Are our brethren returning?")

("The war is not over. None are any due to return and very little of the Goh remain for harvesting.")

("We should investigate. Perhaps the population has recovered and our brethren can be told to replenish the ammunition stores.")

The lead Groten growled lowly in assent. It looked to the screen with its one good eye; the other blinded and scarred from war. ("Take us to the depths.") It commanded.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

A soft, shocked gasp left Teyla's throat as she watched Rodney fall heavily to the ground. The Groten that slashed at his bio-suit roared as a Caronaa warrior fired their weapons towards it, striking its hide with burning blasts. Unwilling to leave its prey, the beast threw itself upon Rodney's suit and continued its frenzied attack. Teyla ran towards him, all weapons firing at the Groten while being mindful not to hit Rodney. As she closed in, the Groten finally succumbed to its injuries and slipped from the bio-suit to reveal the damage it had wrought upon her friend.

She saw the blood first, bright red against the blue metal of the broken suit and far more than she wished to see. The upper part of the suit had been torn away and Rodney lay unprotected and injured in what remained. His face twisted in agony as he heaved in panicked breaths and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. Teyla could hear his frantic breathing and gasps of pain and wished only to be free of her suit to help him.

Teyla sped through the suit commands until the rear hatch opened. She cut the synaptic connections and grimaced as white noise exploded in her head. Disoriented, she staggered from within the suit and towards Rodney, then dropped by his side. She called his name, but he was either unable to reply or hadn't heard her above the din of the surrounding battle. Teyla assessed his condition as best she could, swallowing down the panic that rose within her.

Rodney's left arm was still inside the suit and twisted above his head. It seemed likely that the arm was dislocated if not broken. His face was unmarked but his chest was a mass of slashed cloth, torn flesh and seeping blood. Lodged in his right shoulder was a long and broken tooth, inches deep into his flesh. Rodney's body shook uncontrollably and Teyla worriedly searched for Goh impact but found none. She realised the shaking was probably due to shock. Rodney required urgent medical attention. Teyla looked around the area and quickly realised there wasn't much she could do for him.

The battle raged on around them both. Groten and warriors raged against each other as they stumbled over broken suits and fallen comrades. The air was filled with the sounds and smells of war; and in the air, the Jumpers and Caronaa ships fired down into the area with a ferocious and unforgiving assault. Though it often appeared the Groten numbers were thinning and the tide was turning in their favour, more Groten would arrive from the forest to take the place of the fallen. Some of the creatures made it through the battle and into the village, but there were no ships waiting for them. In their frustration, they ripped the village apart and slaughtered any person unlucky enough to remain unprotected.

"T-T-Teyla?"

She saw Rodney's ashen face turned towards her, his bloodshot eyes gazing at her through a haze of pain.

"Hold on, Rodney, help will come soon."

"I... I did alright, didn't I?"

"You did great, Rodney," Teyla replied, wincing at the words she'd heard John use so many times.

"I took... down a few..." he said and began rambling, most likely to mask his pain, but Teyla was not fooled. "I made a difference, yes?"

"Yes, you did very well. And you will live to tell others of the same. You just have to hold on."

Rodney's eyes fluttered closed and he moaned pitifully. His free hand reached and tightened painfully over hers. "Oh god, it hurts... Teyla!"

She was about to offer him some comforting words when Teyla felt something impact her stomach.

Oh, sweet Ancestors no!

She went rigid, trying not to let Rodney know anything had happened. She felt warmth flood down her front as the Goh bit deep into her skin. She gasped sharply as it punctured through and began its burrowing and Teyla knew she now faced the same excruciating pain John did.

Rodney groaned and let go of her hand, his breathing becoming rapid and uneven. It took the focus from her pain and again she swept the area for help. To her left, Teyla saw Orna running towards her, and she ground her teeth against the pain as she tried to compose herself. The Goh squirmed in her gut and Teyla waited anxiously for the electrical storm that Rodney and John had told her would come.

Only it didn't.

Orna came to a stop by Rodney's side and fired her weapons at a Groten who fancied a sneak attack, its head exploding in a cloud of black blood and ichor.

"I've called one of our ships to come and retrieve you," she said, "but it can only take one of you at a time."

"Rodney is in greater need than I. Make sure he is taken first."

As the sleek white ship came to hover above them, Teyla grunted in pain as the Goh squirmed within her. Orna eyed her suspiciously when she clenched her hand over her stomach. Even through the window of the suit, Teyla could see Orna's eyes widening in understanding. She was about to say something when Teyla threw her a firm glare and said, "I am fine. Rodney is not. Please ensure he is taken to safety first."

Whether it was the stern look or the bite to her voice, Orna nodded and communicated with the ship as it landed behind them. Orna took up a protective stance and fired at any creature who dared to try for the ship or the injured duo. Within moments Teyla watched Rodney disappear into the rear of the craft. The hatch closed, and the ship and her friend were gone.

Teyla drew a sharp gasp of breath as the Goh moved within her. Whatever it was waiting on, it had yet to stun and immobilize her. She drew her hand from her stomach and saw the blood that drenched her fingers and prayed that she would survive this encounter long enough to see John and Rodney saved. She wished Ronon was there to carry her to safety, for she no longer had the strength to stand. In a moment of dizziness, Teyla fell slowly backward as Orna roared by her side and fired relentlessly into the forest.

All that Teyla saw above her were missiles, smoke, and debris. Occasionally one of the ships would fly over, and Teyla wished she was on one. As she lay there, she thought about the Goh that had invaded her body. If she could communicate with it as John had with Primus, perhaps she could explain the situation and prevent more harm to them both. Without it connecting to her mind, this was impossible, and Teyla wondered why it acted so differently to Primus. Perhaps it was injured, or too ill to do as Primus had, which might explain the lack of electrical punishment as seen with previous Goh encounters.

But Teyla was determined to try and communicate with this entity. She thought about the suits and their synaptic interface, thought about the wraith DNA in her genetic makeup. Neither could help her now, but surely the mechanics were not so different? After all, John and Primus could communicate well once the connection was made. She tried to sense the being within her, using the same techniques she used on Wraith. At first, she sensed nothing and her frustration brought tears to her eyes. She might die here; they all might. She tried until her mind tired and she felt her energy dissipate.

Just as she was about to give up, a connection was made. Initiated by the Goh itself, the mind that brushed against hers was neither weak nor ill. It was powerful, more so than any Wraith or Queen. She felt it rifle through her mind and read her thoughts. She sensed a mind so ancient that Teyla could not help but gasp at the magnitude of its presence.

I am Eldus.

The thought was gentle yet filled with authority.

"My name is Teyla, we have come to help you."

I sensed as much from my connection, Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan.

We have been connected since I first entered your body.

This Goh was far different from Primus. Within moments of impact it had managed to read everything about her from her mind, leaving her panting and quite honestly terrified. If this Goh was so strong and powerful, what might it do to her should they disagree?

I will do nothing.

I am not a monster, Teyla. I'm a leader. And as such, I require knowing my allies from my foes.

Now tell me. How is it that you intend to save forty-thousand Goh?

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Rella pressed a few buttons on the stasis pod and halted its functions in order to facilitate the purging of the Goh from John's system. Ronon looked down on his friend with sorrow as it already looked as if Sheppard had left for the happy hunting grounds of the afterlife. His skin was waxen and taught. What colour remained was confined to his injuries, the rest was as white as the pod interior. John's brow was creased as if deep in thought, but he was not thinking about anything. He had long succumbed to his injuries and slipped into a coma.

It was all Ronon could do to keep himself together. He'd seen death before, lost many to war and the Wraith. But this was different. This was up close and personal and took Ronon far from his comfort zone to watch the slow death John endured.

Rella and Nara moved the tank for the Goh closer to the pod. It had already been filled with water from the river and Rella pulled one of its connected tubes and proceeded to push the one-way valve and wide-bore cannula into John's arm. The Goh began exiting John's blood almost as soon as Ronon informed Primus that everything was in place. He watched the small creatures flowing from the valve, their squashed bodies plumping once inside the tank. The more that entered the tank, the redder the water became and Ronon looked to Rella with alarm. Rella reassured him that it was residual blood on the Goh's bodies, and not that John was about to bleed out.

Primus continued to converse during the letting. It had commanded the infants to be careful as they travelled John's vessels to the one that would give them freedom. They didn't burst from the valve in a flood, nor gush into it in spurts of many. The infant Goh left his body one at a time, though in a rapid fashion. Time was of the essence, and all present knew it.

As the Goh continued their migration, Caran checked over the modifications that Rodney had made to the stasis pod. It was a simple enough mechanism that, once triggered, would open the pod to the waters once placed outside the shield. It had been fitted with a field modulator that would allow them to push it through the PuddleJumper's shield and into the water without damage or injury to its inhabitant. Primus assured them that the Goh's own natural electrical field would be enough to save them from harm and so the tank, also fitted with a release mechanism, would be pushed into the sea at the same time as the pod.

Ronon kept watching the tablet and interface in case Primus flagged up any concerns. He concentrated so hard his headache only worsened and his leaning posture did nothing to alleviate the other pains in his body. His discomfort must finally have shown on his face, as while AR-3 readied the Jumper and themselves for the next part of the operation, Rella touched his arm gently.

"I think it's time for you to finally admit you're in pain."

He shrugged and looked back to the tablet. "Pain won't kill me," he muttered.

"Perhaps, but it will affect your thought processes and drain your energy. I have painkillers, here," she pushed her hands into the med bag at her feet.

"No, thanks. I need my head clear, not sedated."

"I assure you these have no sedative effect. And anyway, Carson trusted me with all of your well-beings, not just the Colonel's."

Ronon sighed and reached out his hand to take the offered medication; two yellow, oblong tablets which he swallowed dry.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Primus was now quiet, no doubt readying itself for its own journey from John's body. It suddenly struck Ronon that he didn't know how that would happen.

"Wait, how will Primus get out? It isn't in Sheppard's blood."

Rella smiled softly. "No, it isn't. Carson, Primus and I already discussed it."

Ronon wasn't quite sure what she meant until she tapped her medical bag.

Ronon frowned. "You're gonna cut it out of him?"

"Not exactly. Primus would not fit inside a blood vessel without rupturing it and causing extensive and possibly fatal damage. It will be easier to cut an opening in the Colonel's back prior to them both entering the water."

"Won't that cause him to bleed out?"

"I will make a small incision on the Colonel's back near his shoulder shortly before we close the pod again. Once the tank is in the water and opened, Primus will use this incision to exit the body and simply enter the water that will flood the stasis pod."

Ronon didn't think there was anything simple about it. Once that pod was open, the only thing stopping John from drowning would be the breathing apparatus that Rella was now attaching firmly to his face. The oxygen tank was of Caronaa manufacture and promised to provide Sheppard with over thirty hours of oxygen. But, any cuts or injuries would be open to the water and any infection or toxins the water might contain could kill him as surely as drowning.

As if reading his mind, Rella said, "Primus has assured us that it will firstly attempt to heal all wounds once in the water. After that, well, I'm as anxious as you are to see what happens next."

"You mean you don't know?"

Rella shook her head. "Primus has remained rather enigmatic about the finer points."

"And still you are happy to allow it to take Sheppard?"

"What choice do we have?" Rella shrugged. "You know there is no saving your friend by any conventional means? What Primus is offering is something we do not understand, but it's the only course of action we can take that has any chance of survival, no matter how slim on facts it may be."

Ronon was furious but could see no other way. They were here now, and Primus was their only hope in saving John. He scowled at the tank filling with tiny infant Goh. As the infants continued to flow, Ronon made a silent vow to destroy them all if this was nothing but a ploy to get home with no care for Sheppard's survival. Even though he was angry, Ronon knew he was overthinking it all. He'd spoken with Primus and while it was electronic communication, he got the sense the creature meant everything it said. There was no reason not to believe it. Still, making the vow went some way to quench his anger at the situation.

The tablet flashed as Primus informed them that the last of the infants had left John's body. Rella removed the cannula and valve then placed a covering over the wound and pressed it tight. She motioned for Ronon to come closer, asked him to pull John onto his side then reached for her scalpel. Even with one arm, Ronon was able to do this without a problem. His stomach churned as he felt how light and corpse-like John felt. John was even cold to the touch, increasing the impression that he had already passed on. Once the incision was made, he gently settled John back in and the stasis pod closed.

Caran modified the Jumper shield to expand some meters from the hull of the ship then Teldy proceeded to open the bulkhead door. The Jumper was suddenly filled with a salty and clean scent, with just a hint of mustiness. Droplets of water dripped from the ship's exterior to wet the Jumper ramp in a steady beat. Outside, the river bed was wet and some pooling remained, yet Ronon could see the river held firmly behind the shield which shimmered with the rippling water. Through it, he saw some of the colourful inhabitants swim by. His eyes were drawn to the ominous-looking dark spot which marred the area and the source of the enigmatic lights which even now darted around in the darkness. He only hoped that whatever lurked in there would stay away from them.

Unable to do anything but watch the proceedings, Ronon stood to the side and made room to allow the manoeuvering of the stasis pod down the ramp and to the edge of the shield. Caran brought the tank filled with the baby Goh and set it down beside the pod then carried out final checks. When she was satisfied all was right, she nodded to the others who then raised the pod and pushed it through the shield to drift outside in the deep blue. The tank followed next and Caran clicked on her tablet once both were a suitable distance from the shield.

As he watched the mechanisms unfold to open both containers, Ronon's gut clenched and he couldn't suppress the shudder that tingled up his spine. It felt like he was saying a final farewell as the stasis pod opened and John's inert body floated out into the water followed by the umbilical and then the oxygen tank. It almost looked like a macabre space burial, minus coffin, or wreath. A small streak of red showed the incision site continued to bleed and Ronon hoped there were no predators around to smell it.

Then he saw Primus.

The little black creature swam out from behind John and quickly darted through the water as if with joy. It then swam behind John again and disappeared from view. Seconds passed and Ronon noted that the streak of blood diminished then finally stopped.

At least it was truthful about that, he thought.

With a surprising burst of speed Primus joined the shoal of infant Goh. For some minutes they darted and danced in the water, an obvious display of joy at their freedom. Then Primus approached the shield. It looked in on them, dipped its body as if in a bow, then disappeared into the darkness. Ronon almost cried out as the infant Goh followed and they all disappeared to the darkened area of darting lights.

With her eyes still looking out on the darkness, Rella reached to place a steadying hand on Ronon's arm. "Just wait," she whispered, eyes wide and searching.

Then tiny dots of light came rushing forward from the darkness. Hundreds of mature Goh flooded the area, their sleek black bodies moving in a blur. They flashed through the water in a shoal of blackness through which bright lights flashed making it look like a cloud full of lighting. Clearly the Goh were not as diminished in numbers as the Groten believed.

They surrounded John's lifeless body, each one taking up a place on his being until he was obscured by their little bodies. All Ronon could see of him was a tuft of black hair, but he didn't panic. His earlier doubts gone, Ronon knew he was watching the attempt to save his friend. Knew without a doubt that all able Goh had been called upon to help, and that Primus had called them. They moved in unison and pulled John towards the darkened area, followed by the trailing oxygen tank. They all soon disappeared into the cavern taking John with them, leaving Ronon and the others to stare at the now empty opening.

"How long do we wait?" Nara asked.

"Primus said we should go back to Caronaa and return in a day. He will update us then."

As they made their way back to the Jumper, creeping darkness played across the water above them. Ronon looked up in time to see the shape of a massive craft pass overhead, big enough to cast a shadow that momentarily plunged them into darkness.

"Get back in the ship," he growled. "We've got company."

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Dear all, sorry for the lack of uploading, but I seem to have misplaced all of the remaining chapters. I found this one uploaded to Google docs, but the rest of the chapters are missing! I'll look for them over the next few days, but if I don't find them, I'll need to rewrite them. I hope I find them, as I don't have the time to rewrite what with the festive season upon us! Fingers crossed!

Chapter 25

The battle raged on and Teyla lay in the middle of it all, her mind barely registering the noise and death around her. Her eyes were closed as she focused on Eldus and what it was saying. It was very different from Primus. Unlike what John said he'd experienced, she was in much pain and very aware of what was happening to her. She could move of her own volition if she wanted, and her thoughts were only addled by her pain and increasing lethargy.

Though it had riffled through her mind to determine if she was friend or foe, Eldus preferred open communication for the rest of their conversation. It seemed that reading the information drained Eldus and it appeared to have no wish to take nourishment from her body.

Why do you want to save us? Eldus asked.

"We have encountered one of your own called Primus. It currently resides within one of my friends and informed us of your plight."

You met a Primus?

So few Primus remain we thought ourselves finally lost. I know of only two others still alive.

"This Primus is very much alive, as are its kin within my friend, John. It was the wish of both Primus and John that we try to save as many of you as we can and return you home."

Ignothia...

The word reverberated around Teyla's mind like a whispered sigh containing every emotion known to exist. She gasped at the intensity of it, understanding through that single word the full extent of the Goh suffering. Teyla felt a flash of searing pain run through her as Eldus slowly made its way through her body towards her spine. The pain was excruciating, so much so it rendered her silent with shock. Eldus apologised for not having the mechanics that the Primus held to be able to dull her pain. Teyla just tried to keep breathing for as long as the pain continued and groaned softly when Eldus eventually settled near the base of her skull.

The reason for its travel through her became clear when their minds connected fully and images of the Goh waters filled her mind. Ignothia truly was a beautiful place. Teyla wondered if it was also beautiful on land, though Eldus couldn't show her anything above the water. Accompanying the images was a deep longing to return home and a sadness that left her hollow.

"How long have you been in the Groten tanks?" Teyla asked.

Far too many generations to count.

Very few of us remember Ignothia through actual living memory.

Most only know of it through the shared knowledge.

"You seem very different from Primus," Teyla commented after a moment of silence.

Primus are the teachers and protectors of our civilization. They disseminate our knowledge to the young so that it endures. Primus are physically different to allow them to do their jobs. For one example, I am unable to affect your bodily functions, therefore unable to either alleviate your pain or use you to escape. I am, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner within you. But, we Eldus have much stronger minds than all other Goh. We are the connection between our people, making us all a unified collective. This means I can convey your intentions to my kin in ways Primus never could. A Primus has a connection to its kin and other Primus, but we Eldus have a connection to all Goh.

"You are more than just their leader," Telya murmured. "You are their history and their ancestor."

Yes. I am over three hundred of your years old, and I gained my knowledge from my parent who lived for several hundred years. There were approximately four hundred Eldus on Ignothia. I fear I may be the last.

"The last?"

A feeling of overwhelming grief filled Teyla as she experienced Eldus loss as her own.

When the Groten first began to harvest, we Eldus were on the front line, trying to protect all others. Many of us died in those first few days, leaving so few that our communication network weakened.

It is unlikely that we will recover as, unlike all other Goh, I can only birth in the birthing valleys of Ignothia.

If I fail to reach home, the Eldus line may die out, as will the ability to unify all Goh.

"Then we must save you."

My presence may kill you.

"As long as you can survive without harming me, we both shall live."

I will cause you no more harm, though I fear I already caused you enough.

"Worry not. I will be fine. I will attempt to get you back to Ignothia."

If you can do such a thing, then it would be better to help all of the others and leave me be.

I ask one thing of you, Teyla Emmagan. Promise to save my species and I will die within you now in peace, and stop your pain.

"You will do no such thing, Eldus. Your people need you to survive if they are to survive themselves. I will be fine. I ask only that you halt your movements and allow me to find help for my wounds."

Eldus said no more and Teyla took it that the creature had gone into hibernation.

Teyla passed out, unable to keep hold of consciousness long enough to find the help she so desperately needed. She wasn't sure how long the blackout lasted, but when awareness returned, Teyla found that day had turned to night. The sounds of battle were gone and only silence remained. She smelled nothing but clean air and vegetation and when she pulled herself into a sitting position, Teyla discovered she no longer lay where she had fallen. Instead, she lay in a clearing within the forest far from the battlefield. A small fire burned warmly to her side by which three large Groten sat, their eyes upon her as she shifted uncomfortably.

Teyla's eyes widened and she searched her body for a weapon, only to remember she had left them behind in order to get inside the biosuit. The beasts eyed her curiously but did not attack. They simply watched her as she tried to measure her breathing and calm her pounding heart. Teyla knew there was nothing she could do to escape these creatures. She'd seen their swiftness, their brutality; she would never survive an attack in her current condition. Unable to fight, barely able to keep herself from crying out in pain, Teyla slowly pushed up from the ground and stood before the three beasts.

They looked no different to any other Groten she had encountered thus far, except for their stillness. They watched her quietly, unmoving, not even a muscle twitch between them. To be so close to them was incredible if not disturbing. They truly were majestic creatures, powerful and rather beautiful when one got the chance to look past their deadly facades.

So far she had only fought with Groten or watched them sicken and die. Her thoughts of them were clouded with ideas of self-preservation and anger at their vicious nature. These ones seemed to be in their prime, huge, healthy specimens that dwarfed her tiny frame. She was under no illusions that any of them could crush her in an instant should she anger them. Her fear was momentarily eclipsed by the pain in her stomach. She looked down to see the blood had not stopped flowing from the impact wound. It had slowed considerably, but what was spilled on her clothes told her that she had no right to be standing. Her energy would eventually fade and she wondered if this was what the three Groten were waiting for, an easy meal to collapse at their feet.

Food without the fight.

Then one of the Groten moved. It slowly pulled itself up to a standing position, uncurling to become a formidable sight that looked down on her and made her quail. Then it spoke.

"Tey-laar... " Its voice was harsh and ground out words that the beast's mouth seemed to have never formed before. "You are safe..."

Teyla just stared at it, not quite sure what to think. Quickly she evaluated the beast and judged by its posture and relaxed musculature that it currently posed no danger, although that could change in an instant.

"Eldus... within you..." it growled lowly. "Eldus explained..."

"You are Groten, how would you know?" Teyla asked warily.

"We sense... Eldus..."

"You are Goh?"

"Yes, Tey-larr...Goh within, Groten without. Controlling this body is difficult."

"Are... are you another Primus?"

"We two," it pointed to the Groten behind her still sat by the fire, "are the last Primus. Eldus summoned us."

"There is another Primus, we helped save it," Teyla replied.

"Eldus explained."

Teyla nodded. "Where are we?"

"Not far... from Groten ship..."

Panic welled within her. "But, I need to get back to my people. I can help you all, but I need help myself, first."

"Unable to go there..." the large beast growled sadly. "In this size and shape? We would be killed on sight."

The second beast rose to its feet and moved towards her. It raised one giant paw, the claws retracted and Teyla recoiled.

"This is Healer," Primus offered. "Healers are unable to forge connections within a host's mind as we Primus can. Therefore, Healer can not speak with you."

Teyla nodded and forced herself to be still as the beast drew nearer. There was little else she could do. Her body was telling her it was almost out of energy. Healer touched the tip of a claw to her cheek and gently stroked the skin. In its eyes, Teyla saw unending sorrow that made the breath in her lungs hitch.

"Healer says it is sorry for your damage, Tey-laar," Primus said. "Eldus did not wish to harm you. Healer will help. Can you really help us get home?"

Teyla nodded. "We've helped one Primus and its kin return to Ignothia, hopefully, we can help all of you."

Teyla swayed as she became lightheaded, clutching at her stomach as she sighed in pain. The third beast got to its feet in time to catch her as she slowly slumped backward, her energy finally fading away. The huge animal pulled her into its arms, its giant head moving side to side as it looked her over with eyes that seemed so full of compassion that Teyla knew they spoke the truth of their being.

"Rest, Tey-laar," the second Primus growled. "We will look after you. Then, we save our people." It lifted her higher into its arms as the three giants made their way towards the tree line.

Teyla was unsure how the other Groten would react when they saw three of their own carrying a human. Would they tear her to pieces? Would the three Goh-driven bodies manage to stay inconspicuous enough to hide her away from prying eyes?

All will be well, Teyla, Eldus informed her quietly. We will take care of you.

Whatever might happen was out of Teyla's hands now, for her eyes slowly closed as her mind filled with thoughts of Ignothia. Eldus lulled her to sleep with the images and words of its homeworld. Teyla passed out with a smile on her lips, long before the three Groten slaves reached the ship.

to be continued... (as soon as I find or rewrite the remaining chapters!)

Chapter Text

Hi all! I couldn't find the other chapters. They are totally gone, as are many chapters I wrote for the first draft of my fourth book. So, it sucks worse than I feared! But, I have been rewriting! I have lost my train of thought on the story as I had already written it, so what comes from now on is all new. Hey, it's Christmas, and this is your pressie for being such amazing readers and commenters :D I'll hopefully get the rest rewritten soon :) Happy holidays, everyone, and thank you all for your support!

Chapter 26

Rodney moaned and stirred in a haze of semi-consciousness. He suffered intolerable pain and let air an anguished cry as he attempted to sit up. He stilled, panting rapidly as he rode through the resulting agony until he dared to look at his wounds. His upper torso was just a mass of red wetness. Ragged pieces of blood-soaked uniform clung to torn skin and hid most of the wounds, but he could see the damage well enough to know he was in a bad way. Unfortunately, he had a far better view of the shattered bone which poked through the skin of his injured arm. His stomach heaving, Rodney squeezed his eyes closed as he began hyperventilating and he sobbed while telling himself none of it was real.

Noise in the area told him otherwise; it was just as real as he feared. He heard the cries of pain around him. People called out for help, some loudly cursing while lost in their misery. He was back in the barn. It had been emptied out and was now being used as a makeshift infirmary. A voice called his name frantically while drawing closer. Rodney recognized it and tried to sit up to greet the approaching man only to be gently pushed back onto the bed.

"Rodney! Oh thank God. Just lay still, I'm here now."

"Carson... what happened?" Rodney asked as the doctor looked him over.

"You were attacked by a groten, Rodney. It tore open your bio-suit like it was peeling an orange."

"I don't... why are you here?" Rodney whispered weakly, clenching his teeth as Carson began to inspect his wounds.

"I was told you were injured so got here as quickly as I could."

"But... shouldn't you be piloting Jumper One?"

"The groten have retreated, the battle is over for now. Anyway, I'd far sooner be down here saving lives, than up there taking them. Majors Lorne and Stackhouse have things under control."

"Where's Teyla?"

Caron fell quiet, prompting Rodney to open his eyes and search his face for answers. "Is she... tell me she's not—"

Carson shook his head. "We don't know. No one has seen her since you were airlifted out, but Orna saw her take a hit."

Rodney made to sit up again, hissing with pain as Carson stopped him from rising.

"What kind of hit?!" he gasped.

"She's positive it was a Goh impact."

"Oh, God..." Rodney slumped back again, his mind reeling.

"Sama sent a search party out to find her, but there has been no word as yet."

Rodney shuddered and groaned as Carson started cleansing the wounds on his chest. "Damn, laddie! Pardon the pun, but what a bloody mess you've got yourself into."

"Not voluntarily, I assure you."

"I heard you did pretty well out there. Stackhouse said, 'McKay was taking the bastards down like they were kids dressed in Halloween costumes.' Quote, unquote."

It was an obvious Beckett ploy to take Rodney's mind from what he was doing. It didn't really work, but Rodney ground his teeth and played along.

"Stackhouse said that?"

"Aye, and he sounded pretty impressed. I think he wants a shot in one of the suits now."

"Yeah, well he hasn't seen me in this mess, has he? I doubt he will be too quick to ground himself in the battle if he did."

Carson sighed as he ended his initial examination. "Well, aside from multiple lacerations, it looks like you've got a dislocated shoulder and a rather nasty compound fracture in that arm. Until I can get you under a scanner, that's all I can say for sure. Still, you've been lucky, by all accounts."

"If I was lucky, I would still be out there and Teyla wouldn't be missing."

Carson didn't reply as he moved around Rodney, continuing to clean and inspect his wounds while tutting and sighing loudly. Rodney did his best to not become a bubbling wreck of misery by closing his eyes and thinking of the one thing that always calmed him− bright blue skies. Only, it didn't quite work this time. He still let out a yell as Carson prodded a particularly painful spot.

"I'm sorry, Rodney. I need to get the wounds clean and I just don't have anything here to knock you out with."

"When have you ever come on a mission without your med kit?!"

Carson sighed. "I did bring it, but it was torn from my back by one of those bloody animals as I ran for cover after being dropped off."

"Cover? How far into the village did they get?"

Carson's expression was grim. "All the way," he admitted. "I'm afraid you won't be the last person I help this day."

Rodney ground his teeth as Carson continued to cleanse his wounds. He wasn't as brave or quiet as he hoped to be, each touch catching his breath or making him cry out. He turned his head to the side, searching for something to take his mind from the pain. To his right a large man lay on the floor as two young women hurried around him, trying to stave the bleeding from his torn abdomen. The poor guy already looked to be dead, the women perhaps unable to admit it to themselves, just yet.

To his left lay what seemed to be a young girl. Her head was covered by a bloody bandage but what could be seen of her long hair had flowers woven into a braid. She stared at Rodney through a small hole in her bandages as a nurse moved her leg which was almost torn free from the knee. The girl's eyes held a world of pain that Rodney understood only too well.

"I've done as best as I can for now," Carson said. "I don't want to be resetting that limb or dislocation until I have you properly sedated."

Rodney turned from the girl and watched as Carson drew up an amber liquid from a vial.

"I thought you didn't have your med bag?"

"I don't, but I keep this on my person at all times. The nature of the drug means I have to keep a constant eye on it."

"What is it?"

"A powerful painkiller. I figure I can get maybe ten doses out of this vial. You're lucky number one."

Rodney shook his head. "No..."

"What?"

"Her first," Rodney whispered, turning to stare at the girl.

"Why, Rodney McKay," Carson chuckled. "I had no idea you were such a hero."

Rodney smiled just before he felt the needle pierce the flesh of his arm.

"I'll give her the next dose," Carson said in reply to his look of betrayal.

The drug acted swiftly. Rodney felt it working before Carson had even moved from his side to attend to the young girl. His pain ebbed away to become an intense throbbing he could better endure. He sighed with relief just as Carson returned a moment later, smiling knowingly.

"That's eased your pain a bit, eh?"

Rodney nodded, eyes slowly closing. "Any word on John?" he asked with little more than a whisper.

"We've not heard anything since they left for the Goh planet. Look, get some rest, I'll come by shortly to check up on you."

Rodney nodded again and smiled as his pain disappeared. It's little wonder Carson keeps that particular drug on his person, Rodney thought as he became blissfully unaware of his pain. It felt like his mind was nothing but a big ball of cotton wool. He felt like he was floating, the sensation the only thing he could focus on. It relaxed him enough to pull him closer to sleep, his mind shutting down as his body numbed.

Suddenly he was pulled back into reality as fresh shouts and screams rent the air. The sounds dragged him from his pleasant reverie as a new wave of wounded surged into the makeshift infirmary. Carson strode purposely into the crowd of injured as Rodney lay despising of the fact he was unable to help. He struggled to push through the mind-altering effects of the drug and wished to be on his feet again, wanting to get back out there to at least search for Teyla. He'd heard of wounded soldiers who got patched up then headed back out into war and Rodney wanted to do the same. But while his heart was in it, his body simply wasn't. He was much too weak and broken. While his pain was masked, for now, Rodney knew no matter how powerful a drug was that Carson might give him, its effects would eventually wear off and leave him in agony.

The light coming through the door was momentarily eclipsed when a giant entered the place. Orna, still strapped into her bio-suit, carefully made her way through the crowd of injured people. It still surprised Rodney that a thing of its size could move with such careful grace. The front of her suit was open and she was searching the room for something or someone. She looked worried and a little scared. Rodney had never seen that look on the face of a Caronaa warrior before. The one she sought was Carson and she moved swiftly to him as he pressed a dressing over a young woman's injured arm.

Rodney wiped at his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the fuzziness in his mind. He focussed on the others, tried to hear their exchange of words but they were too quiet to make out. Then Carson stood abruptly, his eyes locked on Orna's, his mouth gaping momentarily. Rodney leaned himself up on the bed and followed the now loudly spoken conversation which was filled with worried tones.

"Forgive me, Fer Beckett."

"Are you sure it was Teyla you saw?"

"Quite sure. I could not reach Fen Emmagan before the foul beasts took her body."

Rodney's mind reeled at the words. They shocked him so much that he sat up without thinking, quite forgetful of his injuries until the howl tore from his mouth. Tears burned in his eyes as he thought of losing Teyla. He could see her in his mind, the small, lithe beauty, quick of mind and body, fighting the groten with grace and strength that never faltered. It was unthinkable that she had fallen to them, completely inconceivable that Teyla Emmagan had perished at the hands of such brutish beasts.

Rodney refused to believe it.

The fuzziness in his head cleared a little as a result of the burst of adrenaline the news gave him and Rodney forced himself to push up from the bed. Trembling, he pushed his legs over the side and onto the ground with little idea of what he intended to do. But, Rodney simply would not accept that his teammate was dead. He had to do something, anything, and wallowing in his own misery wasn't going to cut it.

He had to find her.

All ideas of gallantry were forced from his head when his damaged arm struck the edge of the bed. He grunted and pitched forward, his mind rapidly dulling as fresh pain ripped through his shattered limb that not even Carson's drug could mask. Then cold, strong, arms halted his fall and lifted him up and back onto the bed.

"Fer McKay, you look terrible," Orna said quietly, peering at him from her bio-suit.

Rodney grimaced, his eyes fluttering as he fought to stay awake. "So would you if you'd been ripped from your suit."

"Yes," Orna replied, lowering her gaze. "Others have not been quite as fortunate as you or I, as I'm sure you overheard," she finished pointedly.

"It can't be true," Rodney whispered. "Not Teyla."

"I'm sorry, Fer Mckay. But, I saw it with my own eyes."

"Tell me what you saw," he demanded.

"I saw Fen Emmagan carried towards the danu ship, limp in its filthy arms."

"But you can't be sure she was dead."

"It was a danu, what else would she be?"

"Alive?!" he spat, "you can't be sure! Why would they take her body? They never bothered before!"

"Perhaps, but she is lost regardless."

Rodney twisted and grabbed hold of Orna's mechanical arm. "You need to get me another bio-suit," he whispered desperately.

Orna pulled away from him. "You are in no state to be out of bed never mind inside a suit. You couldn't work one in your condition!"

"Damnit, Orna! The suit is operated by the thoughts in our heads, not the strength in our bodies! I can work the suit, just get me one!"

"But why?!"

"Because I will not lie here while my team is decimated and their deaths are reported back to me in piecemeal!" he shouted angrily.

Orna pulled away and shook her head resolutely. "You are not well enough. Fer Beckett will not allow it."

"He doesn't need to know!" Rodney despaired then attempted to use her Caronaa warrior pride to get what he wanted. "Please, Orna, from... from one warrior to another… help me find her. Help me bring her body home."

Orna seemed to war with herself, the internal fight playing over her features until she locked eyes with Rodney. "I cannot bring you a bio-suit," she said finally. Rodney was about to protest when she leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "but I can take you to one."

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

As Caran closed the Jumper's door, the huge overhead shadow slipped past them and continued to creep on over the water into the murky distance.

"It's on approach for submersion," Nara offered from the front seat. "It looks as though it will break water further down the lake."

Teldy jumped into the pilot seat and carried out a systems check as the others took their places. "Any readouts on that thing?"

Nara shook her head. "I'm getting nothing from the ship itself other than its dimensions. It's bigger than the one back on Caronaa."

"We can't take on something of that size," Rella said shakily.

"I don't intend to," Teldy remarked as she pulled the Jumper into a sluggish one-eighty turn.

Shocked silence fell as the team saw more huge ships moving above the water.

"We'll never get out of here," Caran whispered. "What the hell are we going to do?!"

Ronon, peering silently out the viewport, pointed to the left. "We go there," he growled, pointing towards the fissure and the darkness that had swallowed John Sheppard some time before.

"Well that's a definite negative," Teldy replied. "We couldn't manoeuvre in there if our lives depended on it —which, I hasten to add, it does."

"We don't need to manoeuvre; we just need to get out of sight until we have a plan and an idea of what's going on."

"True," Teldy conceded and steered the Jumper towards the darkness and away from the wandering shadows.

It was a tight squeeze to get the Jumper through the opening, little wider than a Stargate, which was tight enough. There were a few hair-raising moments before the tunnel widened and made moving easier. They travelled steadily downwards for some distance before light became visible ahead. The occasional Goh swam past, eerie blue lights darting through the darkness only to disappear into cracks or holes in the tunnel walls.

Ronon was aware of Rella watching him, knew she could see the pain etched on his face. The painkillers had long worn off and the spike of adrenaline had forced it from his system completely. Rella dug around in her bag before offering him another two yellow tablets, but Ronon shook his head. She was about to insist until Ronon threw her a look that silenced her. She dropped the tablets back into her bag then turned away from him. It was rather heartless of him to treat her so, but in their current predicament, Ronon felt he couldn't afford to be affected by any medication.

Eventually the Jumper flew out of the long tunnel and into a space that shocked them all as much as the appearance of the Groten ships. It was an immense cavern, an underwater world large enough to hold Atlantis itself and still have room to spare. The surrounding walls clearly housed the Goh as they were filled with holes and crevices from which the creatures swam on the arrival of the Jumper. The space was illuminated by the glowing walls, a soft cream light that seemed to emit from the very rock itself. In the centre of the cavern was a large rock form which top sat just above a strange phenomenon.

At first Ronon thought it was a trick of his eyes.

At the bottom of the cavernous space the water appeared to split into two separate waters, moving independently of each other. The water above was calm and was where most of the Goh swam. Whereas the water below, surrounding the central rock form, was a speeding, writhing, snake of movement that encircled the massive place. It exited the cavern to a destination unknown through a huge opening in the far wall, only to return through another.

"The birthing valleys?" Mehra asked as they all looked down on the weird water.

"Yes!" Rella exclaimed. "Look!"

It took Ronon a few moments to see what had her so excited. Then he saw it, a fast moving dot of black, carried around the cavern then out through the rock.

"Was that Sheppard?" he asked with amused surprised.

"I think so," Rella laughed.

They were so focused on John and his travels that they failed to immediately notice the visitor which floated up to peer inside at them.

"Is that Primus?" Rella asked when its movement caught her eye.

"No idea, they all look the same to me," Mehra grunted.

Caran rushed to the rear of the ship. She gathered up the tablet used to communicate with Primus before, replaced the wire that had been in John's spine with a longer one then asked Teldy to open the bulkhead door. Seeing what Caran intended, Nara joined her and worked the shield to allow the wire to be placed outside of the ship. Caran then returned to the window and gestured to the Goh to move to the rear. Within seconds the first message appeared on the tablet.

Why did you come here?

I said more than a day, he is not ready.

"Primus! There are Groten ships outside," Caran spoke as she typed. "You are in danger."

A mass movement of Goh followed the message, a flashing shoal of them moved swiftly towards the centre of the cavern. They darted about with agitation, the information fully communicated from Primus.

You also are in danger.

The Groten will destroy you as soon as you are discovered.

Wait in the cavern until the danger passes.

We will all be safe, here.

"Ask him about Sheppard," Ronon muttered.

Sheppard is healing.

That's it? He's flying around down there like a leaf in a tornado and he's 'healing?'"

"Ronon wants more information," Caran translated his ire.

Primus took a moment to reply then said, follow me.

The creature appeared again at the viewport then dove deeper into the cavern. Teldy slowly pushed the Jumper forward and followed Primus down into the depths. There was a surprising amount of light within the cavern. For a place not only under water but under the river bed, it was illuminated as bright as the day was above water. Primus directed them to touch down on the central rock formation; far beyond the reach of what they assumed were the birthing valleys. Once there, Primus swam away, only to return a few moments later with a new shoal of friends.

These Goh were much smaller than Primus. A dark grey in colour, they were almost mature Goh, larger than the ones Ronon had seen burst from the Groten by the lake side, though smaller than Primus and the black shoal of Goh from before. The shoal moved right up to the viewport as Primus darted back behind the Jumper. They swam forward with obvious caution, and then parted to either side of the Jumper to reveal John Sheppard.

He floated vertically some feet before them, gently swayed by the water into a lazy rotation. The breathing apparatus and umbilical floated beside him. Small bubbles occasionally rose above him, indicating that he was, at least for now, still breathing and alive. Finally he faced them, his pallid complexion made even paler by the light emitted by the rock formations. He looked ghastly, like a man long drowned and departed. But there was one thing different from when they last saw him.

His eyes were open.

In fact, they were crinkled by a smile hidden behind the oxygen mask as he raised his head slightly to look at them.

"Well, ho-lee shit!" Mehra laughed as they all stared unabashedly. "Would you look at that?!"

While it appeared there was an improvement in his health, John's eyes soon fluttered closed as his body continued with its slow rotation. His head lolled back and he was once again unconscious. The shoal of premature Goh quickly swam back to him and enveloped his body. Ronon continued to watch the moving mass as it returned John to the swirling maelstrom of water.

As you can see, John is healing.

The waters are having unprecedented effects on the human body.

He is healing better than I ever thought possible in his condition.

But he still needs time.

"This is great news," Caran typed. "We didn't expect a change in his condition so soon.

Nor did I.

But he is still in danger.

He needs to stay in the birthing valleys.

"We won't ask to see him again until he is ready," Caran replied.

I will send scouts out to review the Groten situation.

Primus darted to the front of the Jumper and out into the expanse of water. There it met with several large Goh specimens. With a suddenness that surprised Ronon, they all disappeared out into the long access tunnel. As they waited, Ronon and the others watched the swirling birthing valleys and the occasional view of Sheppard as he whizzed past. If it hadn't been such a bad situation, John's rapid swim might have been hilarious. To an extent, it was, and for a short while the Jumper crew were amused by the sight, until they remembered why they were hiding.

"What are we going to do if the Groten ships find us?" Nara's nervous query broke the resulting uneasy silence.

"We barely made it in here; I doubt their ships could squeeze inside this place." Teldy replied. "Are our sensors able to pick anything up from above?"

"Not a thing. I'm afraid the sensors seem to be malfunctioning," Caran replied as she typed on her laptop. "I'm guessing it's either yet another problem with this tired old Girl, or the rock formations are affecting them."

As AR-3 continued discussing the ever increasing problems with their ship, Rella once again offered Ronon her painkillers.

"Your argument about keeping your mind clear for battle is null and void at present. No sense sitting in pain if we're not going anywhere."

With no convincing counter-argument, Ronon reluctantly took them. Truth be told, the pain was starting to tire him, and the last thing he needed was to fall in battle because of his reluctance to listen to medical advice. He dry swallowed them then leaned back against the cool wall of the ship and closed his eyes. He was dozing and on the verge of sleep when Nara called out.

"There, I think that's Primus!"

"How the hell would you know?" Mehra asked with annoyance.

"Because, it's heading this way," Teldy said leaning forward in her seat.

Primus raced behind the ship and soon started conveying messages through to Caran's laptop.

"Primus says there are five ships in total, all converging on the fissure. It thinks they are about to cast nets and... commence a flush?"

"What does it mean, flush?" Teldy asked.

Caran ignored the question, continuing to converse with Primus in private. Her expression changed from one of confusion to one of worry, then, when she eventually looked up from the laptop, one of fear.

"Primus says there will be one more ship at the other end of the birthing valley, ready to power up its sublight engines and blow everything in this cavern out through the fissure, us included."

"We'll be smashed to pieces!" Mehra cried.

"Give me that thing," Teldy growled and took the laptop. She glared at the screen as she furiously typed questions to Primus. After a while she handed the laptop back to Caran. "We have one chance. Primus says we can fit through the birthing valley tunnels. Primus will take its people into the walls and we will head out to that other ship and stop it from firing those engines."

"What about Sheppard?" Ronon asked, already regretting giving in to Rella and her medication.

"They're taking him with them."

"And then what?"

"Then we get those ships to follow us and leave the Goh, and Sheppard, alone."

"What?" Nara cried. "How are we going to do that?!"

Dusty Mehra laughed, her eyes gleaming as she stared at Teldy. "Lorne put us on this mission for just this kind of reason," she nodded towards Teldy. "We're flying with one of the best pilots on the force, save for Sheppard himself. I guess it's time to put your famed skills to the test, ma'am."

"Damned right it is," Teldy replied as she prepared to move the Jumper. "Buckle up folks; this might well turn out to be the ride of your lives!"/

To be continued!

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

Teyla awoke uncomfortably hot and in a place humid and thick with animal scent. She stirred within the arms of the slave Groten, its fur sticking to her sweat-drenched skin. Feeling her awakening movements, the Groten, controlled by the second Primus, growled softly and held her tighter as if to impart an urgent need for her to stay quiet and still. As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, Teyla saw that she was inside what must be the crashed Groten ship. The three Goh-controlled Groten moved slowly and cautiously through a crowded space where other Groten snarled at each other while they worked to fix their broken ship. Teyla tried to see over the muscular arm holding her, wishing to have a better look at the ship and its inhabitants, but her Groten only tried to hide her more. Reluctantly she relaxed into its embrace and waited to reach their destination.

The speech of the Groten was deafening; a wild barrage of noises akin to the sounds one might hear in a zoo on Earth, only amplified and from many sources simultaneously. How they could distinguish one voice from another was beyond Teyla. To her it was little more than animal white noise that conveyed nothing to her but annoyance.

When her three Groten companions reached their destination, second-Primus lowered Teyla to the ground. The third-Primus and Healer took up positions to guard the room entry points. Teyla continued to hold on to the strong, furry arm of Second to steady herself as it sat back on its haunches.

The space was a dimly lit, high-ceiling store room which smelled damp and mouldy. The only things in it were five, large, glass-panelled vats of murky liquid. Teyla could see dim flashes of light darting through the liquid and guessed they held the Goh.

"Tey-laar... help is here," Second-Primus said, pointing to the tanks.

Teyla stared at the dark liquid within, wondering what the creature meant. She hoped Eldus would tell her what was happening, but the Goh seemed to be dormant within her. As if knowing her thoughts, the slave Groten nodded.

"Eldus sleeps for you..."

"Then what is it I'm supposed to do here?" she asked.

The Groten peered at the tank then back to her as if the answer was before her—which, it was.

"Inside..." it replied. "Healer says inside."

"What do you mean, inside? I do not understand."

"Waters from Goh planet, Tey-laar... might be sufficient for your wound."

Of course there would be water from Ignothia within the tanks, but, it looked nothing like the clear and beautiful waters Eldus had shown her in her mind. The water was bluish black. It looked putrid, stale, and most likely contaminated with ancestors alone knew what. The thought of climbing inside churned Teyla's stomach, yet she knew she had to, not only for the chance to be healed, but also to hide within should a Groten enter the room. She staggered toward the nearest vat, the one whose dark water seemed less polluted than the rest. She inspected the vat, searching for a way to get inside. There was no ladder, no foot holds. With the exception of the ports for the Groten weapons, she could see no easy way to enter the vat.

Second-Primus shuffled up beside her, reaching out to take careful hold of her and lift her gently from the ground. Teyla clutched at the beasts clawed hands, grimacing at the pain in her stomach as she was raised above the vat. On top there was platform with access hatch. Teyla raised the hatch and was met with an overpowering stench of rot and decay. She gagged and struggled not to vomit. Her eyes watered as she looked back to second-Primus. It nodded its head and urged her into the tank.

Teyla sat on the edge of the hatch and slowly lowered herself inside. There was about a meter of dead space between the water and the hatch. She dropped into the water with a splash, moments before the hatch slammed closed loudly above her. Teyla panicked and tried to get back out. She was unable to reach the hatch to open it, so began thumping her fists on the glass panel in anger. She suddenly fell still when she saw that another Groten had entered the room. Her Groten must have closed the hatch in order to conceal her, and so she moved away from the panel in hope that the dark water would hide her floating form.

She felt things bump into her body, little passing knocks from the Goh swimming around her. One collided with her wound and she bit her lip to stop the cry of pain. The Goh didn't move away from the wound. Indeed, she felt even more congregate on and around the wound site.

Then Eldus awoke.

Teyla. I must leave you while you are in the water. My children can heal you once I have left your body. Healer and the Primus convey danger outside the tank. I must ask you to take the pain in silence if you can. Otherwise, we risk the death of all in this water.

Remaining silent seemed an impossible task as Teyla was already about to scream. She did the best thing she could think of and took a deep breath then pushed herself under the water hoping that perhaps it would muffle any pained noises she might make.

Eldus began to move out from her spine. It carved a new path through her tissues in its endeavour, making Teyla twist and contort in agony. But it didn't have to travel far and soon Eldus tore a hole in her skin and swam out into the tank. As soon as Eldus was free, Teyla's pain subsided as its children converged on the new wound. Numbness spread from both wounds to encompass her entire torso. Whatever the children of Eldus were doing it was working and soon Teyla felt calm enough to rise above the water and and breathe.

From outside came noises, barking snarls and banging noises. Risking a look, Teyla saw that the Groten which entered behind them was now organising the removal of one of the other tanks. Healer and Third were pulled in to move it while Second stayed close to the tank in which Teyla floated.

Third and Healer moved the tank out through the door as the Groten turned to stare at Second. It snarled and gesticulated at it, so angry it spat thick saliva as it spoke. Second pulled itself upright, tall and forbidding and unleashed a howl that made Teyla's blood run cold. The other Groten stiffened, sneering even as it lowered its head in deference to Second. Finally, it backed towards the door and followed the others out. Second remained standing tall for long moments before it quickly opened the hatch in the tank and helped Teyla out.

"Tey-laar need to leave. Tanks being moved outside. Leaving the weight behind."

"What does that mean?"

"Sufficient mends upon ship. Goal now to lighten load and leave this planet. Kill all Goh then go. Can't leave weapon behind, alive."

So that was why they were removing the tanks from the ship. No longer did they wish to steal Caronaa ships or Jumpers to aid their war and steal Goh for their weapons. Now they wished only to depart Caronaa, and leave no trace of Goh behind, destroying their weapon so no one else could have it.

"But they know you are the last of your kind, the only remaining ammunition they have for their weapons! Why leave that behind?!"

Second finally pulled itself into a relaxed stance and purred as it looked longingly at the murky tank behind her. "The risk to Groten lives needs amended. Goh too much trouble now. Better to flee with Groten lives intact than try to fly with weight that possibly pull ship to death."

Teyla lowered her head, fully understanding how little the Groten thought of the tiny Goh lives they used to their own ends. The injustice of it all weighed heavily on her and she realised that John Sheppard had been right all along. They had to help the Goh, for no one else could or would.

"I need to get back to the village. If we are to save your people, I must speak to mine."

Second nodded and opened its arms for her to climb into. With her wounds healed and strength returning, Teyla easily pulled herself into the Groten embrace and buried herself deep in its arms and fur.

They moved hurriedly through the busy ship and both breathed a sigh of relief when they reached outside. Teyla stole a peek over the Groten arm and saw the Goh tanks, all lined up near the tree line. It was then that she understood why Eldus sought her help. There was over twenty tanks of Goh, many of which had been smashed open, losing their watery insides that now seeped into the ground. Second emitted a soul-wrenching growl of grief as it surveyed the ground which was littered with the corpses of its kin.

This was a slaughter, one that would ultimately mean the end of the Goh.

Though Second still trembled with sorrow, it continued towards the tree line and on into the forest. Not until they were far from the Groten ship did Second lower Teyla to the ground.

"I am sorry for your loss, Primus. I will explain your plight to my friends and soon be back to help you."

Second nodded and looked forlornly back along the way they'd come. "I must stay here, Tey-laar. I must protect Eldus and others."

"I understand," Teyla replied. "I shall go and find my friends, but in the meantime, see if you can slow down the destruction of your people. Protect the tanks, I will return as soon as I am able."

Second raised its arm and pointed one huge claw ahead. "This direction will take you straight to village."

"Thank you, Primus. Stay safe." Teyla took off running, leaving Second to shuffle its way back towards the Groten ship.

Teyla shivered, her clothes and hair soaking wet from her time in the tank. But she ran at a steady pace, expending energy efficiently while being on constant watch for danger. The forest seemed to go on forever, trees beyond trees as far as her eyes could see. Occasionally she would hear a crash and squeal as some unlucky animal fell beneath a behemoth insect deep in the forest. It made her more cautious, slowed her pace so she made no haste mistake in this deadly place.

Her hair and clothes quickly dried and her trembling ceased as her body temperature rose. As she ran, she thought about her friends. How had Rodney fared while she was away? And had there been any word about John? The thoughts made her hurry again, eager to get back to those she knew and loved and also for help for the Goh.

After some time, Teyla slowed to a stop and quietened her breathing. She could hear noises up ahead; the breaking of branches and ripping of foliage. Whatever the thing approaching was, it was huge. It could be Groten, it could be insect and either one was deadly dangerous. As she continued to listen to the noise, Teyla look around her immediate vicinity for a place to hide. If she was caught and killed now, no one would know of the Goh tanks being smashed, or of the Groten controlled by Goh. Should her friends and the Caronaa people decide to attack, many innocents would die. And so Teyla scurried behind a rocky formation and hid herself as the sounds grew nearer.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

It didn't take long for Rodney to regret his decision to get back inside a bio-suit and go searching for Teyla. In fact, he hadn't even made it far from his makeshift bed before he regretted it more than anything else in his life.

What the hell did he even think he was going to accomplish? Injured, pained, and if truth be told, not exactly brave, Rodney struggled to find the answer as he watched the rapidly receding view of the bed he'd been in moments before.

Perhaps the painkiller Carson had administered imbued his mind with the thoughts of heroism. Yes, that was it. Rodney believed this as all notions of valour disappeared as quickly as the drug did from his system. Carson had a lot to answer for.

Rodney knew he was far more courageous that he ever had been. Life in the Pegasus galaxy has a tendency to make or break a person. It had certainly tried to break Rodney on several occasions yet somehow he made it through. He was a different Rodney McKay to the one who first stepped through the Stargate to Atlantis. Despite this, he still couldn't deal with pain.

And he was in agony now.

Orna did her best to carry him gently, but a bio-suit wasn't exactly made to be caring. The metal of the suit was cold. Angular sections of it jabbed him occasionally, and the swaying as Orna ran made him feel nauseous. By the time they reached the Warrior complex, Rodney was sure he wouldn't manage to get inside one of the suits.

Orna slowed and carried him inside to one of the unused suits and carefully lowered him to the floor. He grunted as his feet touched the floor, the light impact jarring his fractured arm. He stood trembling before one of the bio-suits and stared at it with both misery and admiration. It was a beautiful machine, powerful, striking in its form and engineering. But it was also quite the task to get inside one with any grace or comfort. With a dislocated shoulder, a broken arm with bits of bone hanging out and open wounds all over him, it might well be impossible. Rodney had solved impossible often enough to momentarily detach himself from his pain and look at the problem analytically. He wouldn't be able to get inside with his arm swinging about freely and causing endless waves of fresh hell, so the first thing he had to do was stabilise it.

"What are you looking for Fer McKay?"

"I need to immobilise my arm and cover my wounds."

Orna stepped away and pressed the seamless wall beside the charging suit. A slit appeared in the wall and a deep drawer pushed out. It was filled with tools and spare small parts for the suits. At the back was white box which Orna grabbed and closed the drawer. She opened the box and extracted what looked to be a large bandage.

"May I?" she asked holding the bandage out.

"Wait," he raised his other arm and stepped back. "Wait, wait. Give me a second."

He took several deep breaths then gingerly tried to lift his broken arm into place. He huffed and puffed and tears welled in his eyes until he finally had his arm raised with his hand over his sternum. He already felt light headed and close to vomiting. But the arm still had to be tied up so Rodney nodded and steeled himself for the impending agony. Orna wound the bandage around him and Rodney closed his eyes tightly while struggling to contain a cry forcing its way through his throat. The only thing keeping him from screaming and just collapsing into a heap of misery was the thought of Teyla injured and alone in the godforsaken forest.

"All done," Orna said after what seemed like long hours of agony.

Considering she was in a bio-suit, Orna had did a great job. Rodney's chest was now covered in wraps of white bandage, marred only by spreading blotches of red seeping through from his compound fracture and chest wounds. On seeing this, Rodney felt the room spin and his stomach heave. He swayed as his knees threatened to give beneath him. Seeing this, Orna placed her mechanical hand on his shoulder and steadied him until the dizziness passed.

He quickly looked away from the bloodstains to stare again at the bio-suit that stood in its charging port. Orna was now in the process of disengaging it from the port and at the press of a button, the suit walked a few paces forward and its rear compartment opened up to reveal the pilot area. She pressed some buttons on the back then stood aside.

"I've disabled the suit conforming action for now, until you are in and comfortable. I'll turn it back on once you are safely inside," Orna said. "Now, just step up, I'll do the rest."

He grabbed hold of the slender rail to the side of the opening with his good hand, and set his foot on the small step above and behind the suit's knee. He felt Orna's mechanical hands encircle his waist and she effortlessly raised him up and into the cockpit. It wasn't without pain, but so much easier than had Rodney had to do it all by himself.

He gasped and cursed as his wounds collided with the interior of the cockpit, his usual claustrophobic reactions absent in his pain-clouded mind. Once he settled into a somewhat comfortable position, Orna enabled the suits conforming action. Rodney felt it balloon around him, pushing gently to mould to his body and hold him firm within the cockpit. The action itself alleviated some of his pain as it cushioned him so securely. Once again locked inside the small place, Rodney stared out of the tiny window before him and images of his battle with the Groten flashed through his mind. He closed his eyes and breathed raggedly, trying to block the memory before he abandoned his plan.

"I'm going to close the suit now and start the synaptic interface."

The buzzing in his head started almost immediately and within moments the HUD appeared before him. Rodney thought of a few commands and the suit obeyed them instantaneously. Walk forward. Raise arm. Raise leg. Jump. Pain erupted in his shoulder and arm and he realised jumping was a bad idea.

"I'm ready," he said as Orna came to stand before him.

The two left the village unseen and disappeared into the trees, Rodney following Orna as she knew the way to the Groten ship. The deeper they went the darker it got as the tree canopy thickened above them. The HUD threw up flashes of red when they neared a denizen of the forest. Whether they signified giant insect or galloping knelkin didn't matter, they avoided all areas where the red lights flashed.

It was now so dark that Rodney had to rely on the HUD completely. The tiny suit window was just a black rectangle now they were in the heart of the forest. Noises could be heard all around, sharp barks, screeched howls, the snapping of wood and rustling of foliage. It left so much for his imagination to interpret, and so much unease to build in Rodney's mind that his eyes darted over the HUD image in search of flashing red warning lights. He felt hot, breathless, and completely panic-stricken. It took him a moment to notice that Orna had stopped moving, almost colliding with her.

"We're near the ship, but there is something up ahead, hiding," Orna's voice whispered through the synaptic com.

"Hiding? Then... then it's no animal. Groten, maybe?"

"I don't think so, too small."

Rodney saw the anomaly on his own sensors; a huddled form some meters ahead of them. Orna moved cautiously forward and Rodney followed, wishing there was light to see by. No sooner had he thought it than bright light burst from his suit to illuminate ahead. The small window erupted with light and dazzled his eyes as Orna cursed his poor bio-suit control. His eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to see what or who was hiding from them. Then he saw her. She rose to her feet, shielding her eyes from the bright lights of his suit. Battered and bruised, filthy and soaked but very much alive, it was Teyla Emagan.

"Turn down those lights!" Orna's voice shouted through the com.

Lights dimmed, Rodney's shocked surprise made the bio-suit surge forward past Orna until he came to a halt just a few feet before his teammate.

"Teyla! We thought you were injured or dead!"

Teyla cocked her head to the side with a slight and puzzled smile. "Rodney? Is that you?"

"Yes, yes it's me! And..." he glanced to the suited warrior who came to a stop beside him, "and Orna! We came to rescue you! Or, you know, retrieve your, uh... body."

"While I appreciate the gesture, as you can see, I am in no need of rescuing, and I'm very much alive."

"But, how, Fen Emagan?" Orna asked. "I saw you take a hit, and saw the shock in your eyes to know enough of what had happened."

"Eldus saved me," Teyla said enigmatically.

"Who is Eldus?" Rodney frowned, suddenly feeling light-headed.

Teyla told them of Eldus and her adventure on the Groten ship. Of stagnant tanks filled with sickly Goh. Of the Groten language and fearsome quarrels. She continued her tale and Rodney listened but didn't take in the information. He had problems concentrating and felt strangely disengaged from reality, his mind wandering to that of his increasing pain levels. Teyla's voice gradually faded, or maybe it was just that he couldn't focus on it anymore. He tried to ask her to speak up, managing a mere mumble that he barely heard himself. His arm ached, his shoulder throbbed and the pain was the only thing he could focus on as everything around him dimmed.

He heard his name being called as the HUD flickered and his eyelids drooped. There was a sudden creaking sound from the hip area of his suit and a high-pitched beeping started near his right ear. Rodney's vision blurred just as Orna rush past him. He was aware of something impacting his suit then another beep heralded a sudden stiffening of the suit which corrected itself before it toppled over with Rodney inside. A whirring noise sounded to his left and he felt a sharp jab in his neck, just above the conforming mechanism of the suit.

Within seconds Rodney was awake and alert again. The suit alarms had stopped and the HUD was once again floating just before his face.

"Rodney?"

"I'm fine, I'm..." he looked to Orna, "What just happened?"

"The bio-suits communicate with each other when in teams. Your suit told me you were passing out."

"But, what did it inject me with?!"

"There is an emergency drug delivery system in every bio-suit in case a warrior falls while scouting alone. It's a way to get your body up and running again until you can reach the village and medical help."

"I can't feel a thing!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me about this before?! I've been in agony since you pulled me out of my sick bed!"

"It doesn't last long Fer McKay, half an hour is the longest I've known the drugs to work and the suit only has enough for one dose. I wasn't sure how long we would be searching for Fen Emagan, so decided to only use it when you could no longer function. I thought it would be what you'd want, given how driven you were to search for her."

"Yes, yes of course. And how far are we from the village?"

"Approximately twenty minutes, without incident."

"Then we must leave, now," Teyla said. "I only hope we can get to the village and return with backup in time."

"Time? Time for what?" Rodney asked, realising he'd missed more of Teyla's tale than he'd thought.

"They are removing the tanks of Goh from their ship to reduce weight in order to achieve space flight."

"Great! We can come back and pick up the Goh once they are gone!"

"No, Rodney. The Groten are smashing the tanks so that none of Goh survive. Two Primus and a Healer are controlling Groten and trying to stop the destruction, but I fear they will not prevail alone."

"How big are the tanks?" he asked.

"They are huge; it takes two Groten to carry them out of the ship."

"And we have two bio-suits that were built to battle the wildlife here. We could carry two tanks back to the village!" he finished elatedly; fully lost in, and appreciative of, the drug infused high the suit had delivered.

"I do not believe you could carry more than one tank between you. I fear even one tank would be difficult for you both to move."

Rodney fell silent as he mulled over the problem, completely and blissfully unaware of his own weakening state. "If we could somehow get as many Goh in one tank as possible, we could take one back to the village with us. Then the return journey will have at least saved some? Two birds, one stone!"

"Perhaps, but I do not wish to place you in any more danger. We will return to the village and seek help."

"This Eldus, I heard enough to remember you said it was the last of its line?"

"Indeed. And with its death, the end of the Goh shared consciousness."

"Then we go on. It's what John would want."

"John wouldn't want you to risk your life for theirs!" Teyla replied hastily.

Rodney looked to Orna. "Am I right in remembering that the suits have an automatic return function built into their code?"

"They do. On incapacitation or death of the pilot, the suit returns to the warrior complex if still functioning."

"Okay, so we go get a tank, make our way back to the village with it. If I go down, dump the tank somewhere safe and press the return button. We're doing this. One tank, Teyla, we can at least save one tank before I'm out of play."

"And you will not try to come on the main rescue mission?"

"You and I both know that as soon as this drug leaves my system the only place I'll be going is to bed. For a month... maybe longer. No, I've done what I set out to do; I will happily leave the rest to you and the others."

Teyla stared at him a few moments before she briskly nodded and beckoned that they follow. As Orna passed him, Rodney steeled himself for the task ahead while hoping they wouldn't need to fight any Groten once they got there. He knew without a doubt that he didn't have the strength for another battle, even with his newfound vigour.

TBC... Cookies... feed meh!

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

"Get that thing tied down!" Teldy yelled as Rella's medical bag flew through the air and nearly took Nara's head off.

The Jumper was speeding through the birthing valleys on what had to be the most dangerous ride any of the occupants had ever been on. The valleys were what amounted to a narrow tunnel system beneath the bedrock which created a whirlpool phenomenon beneath the warmer water above. The Jumper barely fit in the tunnels and it took every ounce of concentration Teldy could muster to keep the ship from smashing into one of the rocky walls.

Due to their speed there wasn't much more to see other than blurred rock, though occasionally, they would catch sight of a small, fast moving shoal of young Goh following an adult to safety.

"How much further do you think it will be?" Rella asked, her complexion a light shade of green.

"We're nearly there," Nara replied, looking at the HUD and the spaghetti-like map of tunnels it displayed. "A few more minutes."

"What's the plan?" Ronon asked.

"We stop that ship from firing its engines," Teldy replied pulling the Jumper up and to the right so hard Rella spilled onto the floor and Caran yelped as she stumbled and nearly dropped her laptop.

"Then what?" Ronon growled as he awkwardly helped Rella back into her seat.

"Then we head for the Gate and get the hell out of here. How are you coming with the cloak, Caran?"

"I'm doing the best I can. It isn't easy doing this while being thrown around all over the place!"

Ronon idly wondered if all Earth scientists were cloned from McKay. Most, if not all he had met, did little but moan while they worked. And, like McKay, they usually pulled a miracle from their bag of tricks. He hoped Caran had this same McKay trait.

The tunnel twisted left and upwards then levelled at what Ronon thought was probably the same height as the Goh cavern they'd left behind. Teldy didn't ease up on the speed as the exit appeared up ahead. She just charged on even when the first glimpse of the Groten ship came into view. It wasn't a welcoming sight, given that all they could see was two, huge circles of a rusty brown colour with a central dark mass.

"If they're engine ports, that thing must be huge!" Mehra whispered in awe.

"If they are, then we have a problem. Not only is the cloak not working, the weapons interface doesn't seem to be coming online. Caran?!"

"I'm trying!" the little scientist shouted while continuing to stab at her laptop.

She pulled a crystal and replaced it with another then pressed at her laptop again. She huffed and cursed beneath her breath as the laptop registered another failure.

"Caran, those engines are getting pretty big out there!"

"I'm try- wait, wait... okay, try it now!"

There was a clunking followed by a whine as the Jumper blasted out of the tunnel system, up and over the Groten ship, and hopefully invisible to any eyes that might be looking. They all breathed a sigh of relief when Caran confirmed the Jumper was indeed cloaked and that weapons were back online.

Underwater, the Groten ship looked like a rusting hulk, all browns and reds and oranges. But it was in perfect condition, merely coloured to look like a rusting hulk. Perhaps this was a ploy to make it look non-threatening, but to an experienced eye, the ship was quite clearly in good order. As such, it would take more than a little Jumper to bring it down, and so they were left with the option of getting the thing to chase them in order to stop them flushing the Goh tunnels.

"Is everyone ready?" Teldy asked quietly as she brought the Jumper to a stop before the ship.

A unanimous positive response prompted weapon fire. The fired drones fizzed through the water like torpedoes leaving a steaming wake of bubbles behind them. They smashed into the Groten hull and churned up water and gravel from the river bed that then clouded the area. They all watched to see what damage the drones had wrought as the water cleared.

A thunderous sound vibrated through the water to shake the Jumper and its occupants. Then, through the remaining dirt cloud, the Groten ship appeared, moving rapidly forward and honed in on them.

"Is the cloak down again?!"

"No, it's still up!" Caran assured them.

The Groten ship fired a missile that missed them by mere inches.

"They can see us!" Teldy cried and pulled the ship in a one-eighty then punched the throttle. There came another thunderous sound and the HUD showed multiple points of movement behind them. Five ships now followed, gaining ground as the Jumper rose through the water.

"At least the Goh are safe," Nara commented as the Jumper burst from the water and into the air, its nose straight up and heading for the sky.

"Oh yes, so long as the Goh are safe," Mehra snarked. "It's their fault we are in this situation!"

"No it isn't!" Nara retorted. "The Groten are to blame!"

Another thunderous sound reverberated through the ship and their skulls. Whatever it was, the noise disoriented not just the people on the ship, but also the ship itself.

"Damnit! The heads-up is down!" Nara cried.

Caran ran to the cockpit with her laptop, pressing buttons as she went. She pushed a cable into the console and frowned.

"That's not the only thing that's down. I'm registering a cascade failure throughout the system!" She continued to press buttons and connected more cables. "The whole ship is shutting down!"

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when, one by one, the Jumper systems began to power down. Lights flickered; the engines pulsed and spluttered, the weapon array didn't even initiate then everything just died. They were effectively flying a brick, and as it reached the apex of its upward momentum, it started to fall like a brick.

"If we survive this, I'm trashing this heap of shit!" Mehra screeched while holding onto the pilot chair.

"It's not the Jumper at fault! It's that noise! It must be some kind of sonic weapon or something. That's how they can see us and that's what's disabling the systems!"

Another thunderous sound hit them. The entire ship creaked and groaned as it fell back down towards the water, terminal velocity achieved within moments.

Teldy hit every button she could then pressed her fingers to her temples. "If we hit that water, we're dead!"

Another soundwave hit them, more intense this time. It filled the Jumper with an unending noise that smashed against their ear drums and shook the brains within their skulls.

"Do something!" Rella screamed as she writhed in her seat.

Ronon covered his ear with his good hand and forced the other into his shoulder to try block out the noise. He saw Mehra clamp her hands to her ears and make her way to the cockpit with a fierce look on her face. Rella now lay on the floor hands over her head which was tucked between her arms.

Then he saw Caran.

She stood to the rear of the ship, ears exposed and tears streaming down her face as she valiantly continued to try and save the doomed craft. Her hands were too full to protect her ears and so she struggled on while quite clearly suffering. Ronon stepped up, grabbed and spun her to look at him. He placed his good hand over his ear then motioned to her to come closer.

For her part Caran didn't question the gestures. Sometimes you just had to trust your teammates and get on with the job. Ronon recognised the reasoning in her eyes and admired her trust. She turned back to the console as he pulled her head against his chest and clamped his good hand to her exposed ear, effectively deafening her to the cacophony around her.

Caran ripped out crystal after crystal. She delved into a sack in the packing netting and grabbed different crystals then rammed them into the console. Her hands moved fast, stripping down the console and rebuilding it as they plummeted to their deaths, hoping she could hit that magic sequence and get the Jumper working again.

Ronon's nose was bleeding and when he felt a sharp pain followed by something warm trickling down his neck, he guessed that his eardrums had ruptured. Undeterred, he continued to shield Caran against the noise while putting his trust in her ability to somehow pull something out of the bag and save them like McKay often did.

Another blast of the Groten sonic weapon shook them so much Ronon thought the Jumper might shake itself apart. Out of the viewport he saw the water of Ignothia rushing up to meet them.

They were out of time.

He felt Caran pushed from him as she slammed a crystal home then hit it with her fist. Suddenly the console flickered to life. The Jumper shuddered and vibrated. Systems came back online. Ronon collapsed back into a seat as Teldy fought to pull the Jumper out of its death dive. Despite the dodgy inertial dampeners every one of them felt the G-force heavily upon their bodies.

Against all odds the Jumper missed the water and rose steadily into the air. The viewport was filled with the sight of Groten ships, all slightly smaller than a Wraith Cruiser. They turned laboriously towards them, but Teldy took no chances and just steered the ship straight upwards. The fall assisted their upwards speed and they hurtled into the upper atmosphere before the Groten ships could react. The sonic weapon boomed again and, though it lacked intensity, it still made their teeth rattle. Thankfully, their growing distance lessened the overall effect.

They burst through the atmosphere and out into space. Never had a sight ever been more welcomed than that blackness pin-pricked with sparkling dots. The vast desolation gave them a moment to breathe before they snapped back to reality and focused on the task at hand. The lead Groten ship was still far behind them but steadily gained ground. Teldy pulled back on the speed and turned the Jumper downwards again towards the Stargate in the upper atmosphere. Nara dialled and the Stargate wormhole exploded to life seconds before the Jumper entered the event horizon.

A few moments later they exited the Stargate over the planet Caronaa.

Ronon leaned his head back against the bulkhead and breathed a sigh of relief. He could hear very little, and from the faint yells from the others, neither could they.

"You do realise they'll be waiting on us when we go back for Colonel Sheppard?" sounded someone's muffled shout.

The thought had crossed Ronon's mind. They'd barely made it back to Caronaa alive yet in twenty-four hours they'd return to Ignothia and the Groten would be on the alert and watching for their return. One thing was clear, this Jumper wouldn't be returning. The damned thing had crapped out so many times that it was a miracle they were still alive.

Ronon closed his eyes. This whole thing started on a promise that he himself didn't make, and since then there had been more promises made than could be fulfilled. So many lives now hung in the balance it boggled the mind. Not to mention this new and ferocious enemy that had bested and almost killed him. The risks were high, yet Ronon's spirits were not. He was bone tired; weary beyond anything he'd felt before and though he hated to admit it even to himself, his pain was almost too much for him to bear.

His mind wandered as he tried to listen to the various voices he couldn't quite hear and he began to drift off to sleep. All too soon someone shook him awake and he opened his eyes to see Rella offering him some more painkillers. This time he accepted them without argument.

It took him a moment to notice that the rear of the Jumper was open and they had already landed on Caronaa. Outside, people milled about, some injured, some in bio-suits. Ronon got wearily to his feet and stepped out of the Jumper to be met by the sight of many walking wounded, and the corpses of human and Groten strewn about the village. His heart pounded as he made his way to the place where he'd left his teammates. Inside, seriously wounded people crowded the area. Ronon searched the space for any sign of Rodney or Teyla. He couldn't find them, but he did see Carson.

The Scottish doctor was attending to a small form too covered with bandages to make out who or what they were. Ronon moved directly towards him and as if sensing his presence, Carson spun to look at him. He gesticulated frantically, his face flushed, his eyes worried. What Ronon could make out of Carson's muffled voice was that McKay and Teyla were missing.

Shock and exhaustion stopped him still. Ronon just stood there, looking around at the dead and wounded as he came to an awful conclusion that he wasn't quite ready to entertain or face.

If they were all gone, if John, Teyla and Rodney never returned, he would once again, be alone.

TBC... cookies...!

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

Water. Endless water and darkness.

It was all that existed for John. It pressed against his body, muffled sounds and impaired his vision when he had the strength to open his eyes. The time he spent in the birthing valleys literally went by in a speeding blur. But he'd been removed from them, which didn't make sense as he still felt like death.

John assumed he was in an underwater cave and could feel vibrations in the water as creatures passed. They brushed against him occasionally then swam on as dim lights pulsing in the gloom. By the silence in his mind it was clear that Primus was no longer within him. With no way to communicate and little to see or hear, John was left to float in darkness, alone with his thoughts

He gently moved his tight limbs, feeling their weakness but nonetheless happy he could move them at all. There was a pleasant numbness to his body. The agonizing ache in his chest was absent, as was the insanity-inducing sensation of the tiny Goh that had once tickled his insides. Despite still being in poor condition, he was alive and that was better than what he should have been, which was undoubtedly dead. He pressed his thumbs to his forefingers and rubbed circles on the wrinkled pads as he thought on why he found himself in such a predicament.

Kerria.

She was the true reason they had returned to Caronaa. Sure, he had dressed it up as part of an ongoing trade deal with the Caronaans, but it was mostly about her.

Kerria with her long blonde hair which curls seemed to sparkle in the sun. Kerria with her cherubic features and glistening blue eyes that had stolen his heart then smashed it to pieces.

Kerria, daughter of the village leader, Sama.

The Atlanteans received Caronaa's cry for help when a plague far deadlier but similar to Earth's Black Plague ravaged the population. Many Caronaans died in the first months while others, even now, rotted away in comas in the Central City hospital.

Kerria was one of them.

John had first seen her when Sama had approached their newly landed Jumpers the day they first answered their call over a year-and-a-half ago. She had stood strong and tall by her father's side, helped with the introductions and aided the Atlanteans in their mercy mission. She and John worked tirelessly together transporting Carson's cure to villages across Caronaa.

John was beguiled by, and besotted with Kerria.

He admired the fact she didn't use her social stature as a reason not to walk amid the sick and dying. Where he needed to be, she went with him, even on the distressing Jumper runs to the death pyres when necessary. She was strong-willed, caring, empathic and not unaware or uncaring of his growing feelings for her.

They developed a relationship of sorts, one which was strangled by the boundaries of their own separate lives. He was a visitor to her planet with a different life to hers. She was the daughter of the village leader and his eventual successor. It was an impossible relationship doomed from the get go, but no matter how casually they treated the relationship, neither could negate the feelings blossoming between them were real.

Then, one day, as they were delivering a medic to a remote village, Kerria had taken ill. One moment she was handing a box of vaccines to the medic, the next John was catching her in his arms. Even as she trembled with fever she smiled for him. When he carried her to the Jumper and sat her in the co-pilot seat, she fought to be strong and said she was and would be fine. His frantic flight back to central City saw the life rapidly drain out of Kerria, and John watched her steady decline with alarm.

"You better not die on me, Kerria! You hear me?!"

His own fear-tinged words echoed in his mind as he floated in the darkness and felt his heart shatter anew.

Kerria had been one of the first to receive the vaccination. As vital members of the village, all leaders were vaccinated so they could aid with the crisis. She should never have fallen to this accursed illness. And yet, she had, and John hurriedly carried her into the hospital and delivered her into the care of the nurses and doctors.

Later, Carson explained that the vaccine had failed to work for approximately ten-percent of Caronaa recipients. Some faulty genetic coding rendered the vaccine inert within their bodies and so they succumbed to the plague as if unimmunized.

Once John had done all he could and the majority of Caronaa had received the vaccine, he went to Kerria's bedside and stayed there for days on end. No one could move him, and certainly, not many tried. Even Sama sensed there was more to his presence than met the eye and left him alone.

John used up a year's worth of holiday-leave to remain by her bedside, but he couldn't stay there indefinitely. Eventually, John returned to Atlantis and back to work.

Sama promised to keep him up to date with Kerria's condition and remained a man of his word. Every month since John left Caronna, Sama had sent through a private data package with an update on her condition, even if it was just to tell John that Kerria remained the same as when he left her.

Perhaps it was for the best, John thought. It wasn't as if he could leave Atlantis and his life behind to be with Kerria, and she was unable to do the same for him. They both had responsibilities to the people in their care and their home planets. Knowing this didn't kill his feelings for her, nor did it extinguish the hope of ever seeing her bright blue eyes again.

Any notions of them enjoying a long term relationship were now little more than a dream, but he had promised to be there when she opened her eyes and he intended to keep that promise.

Less than a week ago, Sama had sent through a private data package for John, only a few days after the monthly update. It was a video file which John opened in the privacy of his quarters. When Sama's gaunt face appeared on the laptop screen, John saw how much the man had aged in the past year. He now also wore a haunted look and appeared to be as tired as a man could be. Then the reason for his broken appearance was told in a halting story of grief. He told John that many of the comatose patients in Central City hospital had finally succumbed to their illness and died, his own brother included. They had died as a result of a sudden onset of severe inflammation in the lungs and they had ultimately drowned in their own secretions. Many lasted a few hours after onset, coughing and choking away their final moments in agony. Some never woke to know they were dying, while others endured their final battle with terror-filled eyes wide open. Sama told John that if he wished to see Kerria alive again, he should return and be with her in those final moments as Sama felt he wasn't strong enough to watch her fight alone.

And so John approached Woolsey and requested to return to Caronaa, saying he wished to follow-up on one of the trade agreements tendered in the months following the plague. With no reason to question the request, Woolsey had said yes, even went so far as to commend John for his efforts to secure these trade deals. Woolsey had no idea of the real reason for the return.

But his team did.

Well, they knew as much as John let them know. Of them all, Teyla was probably the only one to have guessed there was more to Kerria and him than what McKay called his usual "Kirk" endeavours. Ronon stood by almost anything John asked of him without question, but McKay always had to try and get a dig in at John's expense.

None of them would ever really know how much Kerria meant to him, and he would keep it that way. When Rodney asked why they were returning, John had simply said "I have a promise to keep."

Of course, Rodney instantly thought along the lines of James T Kirk and guessed it had something to do with a woman, Kerria in particular. John let him have his fun and kept him guessing all the way to Caronaa.

And then the Groten stole what final chance John might have had to see Kerria one last time. Perhaps they had even stole his own life, for although he felt alive, he sure as hell felt dead inside.

John startled when a thunderous boom that even he could hear thrummed through the cave. The water around him vibrated so much it shook the bones within him. He heard cracking sounds and then felt hard, sharp objects strike his body. He floundered weakly in the water when another thunderous vibration shook the dark world around him.

Suddenly he felt hundreds of tiny bodies gather until every inch of him was covered. The Goh, he suspected, protecting him from harm. Then they were moving him and he felt the tug of the oxygen tank as the umbilical went taught behind him. There came another great booming but this time less intense as before, though it still rattled his teeth. Then everything fell silent and still again.

The Goh didn't leave him. He remained in place under their care, completely static as if they waiting for something. Then a flurry of agitation flowed through his tiny carers and they were moving again. This time he knew when he was taken into the birthing valley. One minute everything was calm, the next he was grabbed by the fast moving water and dragged into a speeding current. The umbilical strained as it pulled the oxygen canister behind him and he wished the Goh would notice and bring it under control.

But as soon as he entered the fast flowing fluid John felt calm and soothed. There was something about these waters that just made him feel that everything would turn out fine. And maybe they would, for him at least.

The thought fired something up in his brain and suddenly John was struck with an idea so completely obvious that he nearly missed it. He fought against the Goh and the current for a moment as the revelation caused him to struggle and wish to be still so he could think straight. The Goh ignored his weak stirrings and continued to hold him in firm and steady in his rapid motion. John forced himself to relax and allowed the revelation to unfold into an idea which saw fresh hope well within him.

Before he was brought here, John had stood facing the doors of death and watched them slowly open for him. He'd been on his way out; seen the light burst from behind those doors and beckon his soul onwards. There was no doubt in his mind that he would long ago have passed on to the afterlife had he not been plunged into these waters.

These were waters of life, of death, of knowledge and waters of supreme healing and regeneration.

The fluid he found himself carried by was the answer he'd been searching almost a year for. If the Goh waters could bring his sorry and broken carcass back to life, perhaps they could do the same for Kerria.

John allowed the Goh to speed him safely around the healing waters, now so sure he had the answer he'd prayed would come to him. He didn't believe in a God as such, but he did pray when he needed the universe to help him out. And this time it seemed it had provided the help he sought, even though it had a very painful and deadly way of providing it.

Behind the oxygen mask, a smile started in the corners of John's mouth and grew until he was grinning like an idiot. If he could ride out this healing process and get back to Caronaa, maybe, just maybe, he could save Kerria after all.

"I promised you then, and I promise you now. I'll be there when you wake up. Just please, Kerria, wait for me..."

..

to be continued!

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Teyla stealthily led the others close to the Groten ship and drew them to a halt in a thick of trees to the rear of the craft. The air was filled with noise: the banging of repairs, the snarling of Groten and the smashing of glass.

They found a sheltered position not far from where the tanks were situated and surveyed the area. Teyla was sad to see that more tanks had been removed from the ship and destroyed. The ground was littered with shards of glass and dead Goh, but there were also other corpses strewn across the area; large, freshly slain Groten, slashed and gutted before the tanks.

One lone Groten stood by a tank breathing heavily as it licked a deep gash in its fore-paw. It tensed and turned its head while slowly rearing up on two legs. It sniffed the air, dark eyes moving across the scenery until they came to rest on the area in which Teyla and the others hid. A deep growl resonated from it as it stepped forward, its nose wrinkling and mouth opening to reveal many sharp and glistening teeth.

Teyla heard movement behind her as Orna and Rodney readied to take on the beast only to stop when she slipped in front of them and raised her hands to halt their planned assault. When the huge Groten came snarling forward into the thick of the trees, Teyla held her ground and told the others to lower their weapons. While Orna and Rodney questioned her sanity, Teyla waited, watching the furious creature.

"A-are you sure it's one of- of- ours?" Rodney asked.

The Groten came crashing through the greenery in a rage, slashing at trees and foliage, carving a path behind it as it careened towards them. The attack stopped abruptly just as the beast came within striking distance. It peered at them, nostrils flaring as its claws retracted back into its paws.

"Tey-laar..." Second-Primus growled with surprise. "I could smell machine and thought it was attack."

"Primus, what has happened?"

"I do my best to save Eldus. Become a Groten Alpha to command authority over the tanks and their disposal."

Primus peered over her head at Rodney and Orna.

"I have yet to return to the village, Primus, but my two friends came searching for me and we are sure we could take one tank back to the village on our return journey. It would at least secure the lives of some of your kind until we are better prepared."

Primus thought for a moment then suddenly stiffened again and smelled the air. "Hide," it snarled then hastily returned to the tanks as two Groten emerged from the ship with yet another tank. Second-Primus growled loudly as it unfolded its great body to stand tall, fur bristling and hideously intimidating. The other Groten barely glanced at it, their heads hung low and eyes averted. Still they growled and snarled angrily in their forced deference to Second-Primus but it was clear who currently held dominance. They unceremoniously dumped the tank and backed into the ship, continuing their display of displeasure towards Second-Primus. When it was sure no other being would exit the ship, Primus grabbed onto the tank they had first seen it stand beside.

They saw the complexity of the Groten form as Primus struggled to raise the tank alone. Its long angular forelimbs acted as powerful leavers moved by multiple rippling slabs of muscle that bulged and strained under the weight, bunching tightly beneath its pelt. Its spine curled unnaturally as it leaned over the tank then hauled it upwards. It straightened again as massive spinal muscles clenched and pulled its components upright. The great arms then seemed to fold as if the bones had snapped under the immense weight, drawing the tank closer to its body by folding before-unseen skeletal joints. As the tank settled against its shoulder its legs changed shape before their eyes, unfolding to reveal a triple-jointed limb that lengthened to further loft the tank. With a hyper-flexible spine and multi-joint anatomies hidden beneath their long fur, it was no wonder the Groten moved in such strange ways.

Second-Primus ambled to where the three stood utterly fascinated by the way it moved. It now stood almost as tall as the trees they hid in, so formidable that even Teyla quailed before it. That they had survived the Groten this far was a miracle.

"Take Eldus tank," Primus said as it dropped the tank in front of them. "Eldus must be saved."

"We will take great care of Eldus and the others and will return with help as soon as we are able."

Primus nodded then folded its Groten body back to its normal— though still considerable—size and leaned towards Teyla. It lowered its head and purred loudly as it laid one massive paw lightly upon her head. "No matter what happens, Tey-laar, the Goh thank you," it then withdrew from the woods to once again stand guard at the remaining tanks of Goh.

For long moments Teyla continued to stare at the creature, tears shimmering in her eyes as she fully realised that the survival of an entire race of peaceful creatures rested in her hands. Only when Orna said her name did Teyla wipe her eyes and turn to face the others. Time was of the essence. If Second-Primus had smelled their presence, it wouldn't be long before a real and stronger Groten might come looking for them.

The first attempt to move the tank was unsuccessful. The mechanical hands slipped uselessly over the glass without purchase. It would have to be held by the metal base and carefully carried back through the trees without tipping. The bio-suits creaked and strained as the tank was raised. Even though they did not carry the weight themselves, Orna and Rodney still found the task exhausting. Connected to the bio-suits, their minds had to subconsciously control every motor function and movement of the suit and this tired them quickly. Hauling the tank proved difficult, Orna even muttered a grievance at being unable to get hold of one of the Groten hovering platforms to make their task easier. But with Teyla leading them on a path that cleared the tank and their mechanical bodies, Rodney and Orna managed the task better than expected.

They were approximately halfway to the village when two things occurred. First was a bust of transmission through the bio-suit comm that informed them of a gathering party of Warriors tasked with finding the three of them. As Orna hurried to inform them of their imminent return, the second thing happened; the drug in Rodney's system finally depleted. The extra stress carrying the tank weighed upon his already weakened body causing the suit's emergency concoction of drugs to burn through his system much sooner than the predicted thirty minutes. He had time to alert them to the fact he was failing and get the tank on the ground before his suit began to alarm. Orna reached to tap a combination of buttons on the shoulder of his suit that made it snap upright and rigid. Teyla could hear Rodney's ragged breathing through the bio-suit comm and worried that they had worsened his condition with this rescue.

"I... I think... I think I might sleep now... if that's alright..." he whispered a few seconds before a high pitched squeal emitted from the unit. Having heard such a noise in the Atlantis infirmary, usually heralding a death, Teyla feared the worst had happened.

"It's okay, he's okay," Orna reassured her when Teyla hurried to his side. "He's just passed out. Truth be told, I'm surprised he lasted so long."

"You should never have brought him out here," Teyla scolded.

"I saw fire burning in Fer McKay's eyes when he asked for my help. I know that fire. It burns in every Caronaa warrior. You do him a disservice thinking him weak, Fen Emmagan."

"Do not presume to know my friend better than I, Orna. I know he is not weak in spirit, and I know only too well how much fight is in him. But I also know through past experience that Rodney will disregard his own limitations and safety to push himself into danger when he sets his mind to it."

"Forgive me, Fen Emmagan. I misunderstood your concern."

Teyla sighed as she pressed her hand to the chest of Rodney's suit. "I also apologise. It is most difficult to reel in emotions that would see us fight each other for no other reason than the strain we currently endure."

They watched over Rodney and the Goh tank while they waited for the search party to find them. Teyla trembled with cold as she sat on the forest floor near Rodney's motionless suit. While Orna watched the area for bug attack, Teyla's eyes focused dreamily on the Goh tank in which she could see faint blue lights darting back and forth. One light pulsed brighter than the others and remained fixed in place as if staring back at her. Teyla wondered if it was Eldus she watched in that murky liquid. She pondered if it also suffered momentary bouts of anger at its situation such as she and Orna just displayed?

She was still staring at the creature when the search party pushed through the dense woods and found them. Four Caronaa Warriors had been sent to fetch them and, Teyla saw, one unsuited man. He stepped out from behind the bio-suits looking exhausted and filthy. He had dried blood on his face and hands and appeared to be struggling to keep himself on his feet but he smiled as he made his way towards her.

"It looks like we're all in a bit of a mess," Ronon said as Teyla got to her feet to greet him. "Beckett said you'd been hit by Goh, but you seem fine to me."

"Oh Ronon, it's good to see you. I have much to tell you, but first, how is John?"

"Well, he's in the care of the Goh now. I'd rather have stayed with him longer, but we had to leave in a bit of a hurry." He evaded her questioning gaze and looked passed her then grinned impishly. "Hey, McKay, I can't believe they let you get into another of those things considering you destroyed the first one!"

"Ronon, he cannot answer you."

The smile died on Ronon's lips and he stilled, his brows furrowing. "Doc said he'd been beat up. How bad is he?"

"He fell unconscious not long ago. He should never have come searching for me in his condition."

Darkness descended over Ronon's features and his jaw tightened as he stepped up to Rodney's bio-suit. After a few moments silence, his shoulders dropped and he shook his head wearily. "Why?" he said quietly as he tried to peer inside the dark window of the suit. "Why must we always suffer for others?"

His words unsettled her.

Ronon Dex never spoke in such a way. The man rarely expressed any kind of emotion other than anger or disdain, yet right then Teyla thought he might actually break down in front of her and the others who busied themselves around them.

"It would seem to be our lot in life," Teyla replied softly and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "I am sure we will get through this just as we have many times in the past."

Ronon didn't reply, just continued to stare into the darkness of Rodney's suit interior. A shudder ran through him as he grunted with pain and hugged his shattered arm closer to his chest. Teyla saw Ronon's mental barriers crash back into place and knew he was once again closed off to emotion; the temporary slip shut down as suddenly as it had started. He turned from Rodney's suit and forged his way back along the trail he'd come.

"Come on, we better get back. Beckett will be losing his mind about now."

Teyla waited until Rodney's suit was set to return to the village and in motion before she hurried after Ronon. Though he staggered occasionally and grunted frequently with pain, Ronon was back to his old distant self. He disregarded her concern as he pushed past thick foliage and wandered on ahead.

She didn't blame him for his distance, having often wished to be able to do the same herself. Loving others meant that one would often experience a special kind of pain. But it would be worse to not be able to love at all. Through his momentary weakness Ronon had displayed how much he truly loved his chosen family, a somewhat bittersweet moment of clarity. It left Teyla rather melancholic, for it showed her that Ronon was as terrified as she was to lose that family, and thought that this mission might prove to be the very one to destroy it.

.

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to be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

Rodney was completely unaware of the others speaking around him. Once they managed to extract him from the bio-suit, he was laid in a bed in the corner of the barn. He'd managed to ruin most of Carson's healing work in his little excursion, requiring more stitches and dressings to patch him up again. Ronon lay just as unconscious in a bed beside Rodney's. Carson had made sure the large Satedan stayed there with a healthy dose of sedative salvaged from the retrieved remains of his medical backpack. Ronon would no doubt be furious when he woke up, but Carson didn't care. Well, he actually did care, which was why he sedated the man at all. He and Rella tended to their fallen friends as a sit down debate took place at the foot of the makeshift beds.

"I say we contact Atlantis and request more support," Stackhouse said rubbing at the dressing on the back of his hand. "We can't go up against those things here and Ignothia with just two Jumpers and a handful of us still able to fight."

"We have three Jumpers. Mine can still fly," Teldy said coolly.

"The thing can hardly stay in the sky!" Stackhouse retorted.

"That 'thing' is already being fixed and could fly circles around yours," Teldy snapped.

"I don't think we can wait the four hours it would take for support to get here," Lorne said halting the looming argument. "Not if we are to save the Goh in those tanks. If what Teyla saw is right, that downed ship will take to the skies soon and we will lose them all. We should be marching there now in as many bio-suits as we can get."

Orna, finally out of her suit and sipping on a hot beverage, shook her head. "Our supply of suits is not infinite, Fer Lorne, and many have been rendered useless in the initial battle."

"So where does that leaves us?"

"We have two... ah, three jumpers . Plus we have two of our Vipens. We can at least provide air cover for ground troops to go in and salvage as many tanks as possible."

"And do what? Drag the tanks through the forest with the Groten snapping at our heels?" Lorne scoffed.

"How many suits are available and working?" Stackhouse asked.

Orna looked to a stern-faced man who leaned against the wall sullenly with his arms folded. His name was Barna, and he was the leader of the Caronaa Warriors Southern Battalion.

"We have seven fully operational suits at our disposal. Eight if you include mine, though one of those beasts destroyed my weapons control unit. There's still no word of more coming from Central."

"We don't need them all to have weapon capability," Stackhouse said thoughtfully.

"What, you want to walk in there without protection?" Barna asked.

"We only really need the suits to move the tanks into the Jumpers for transportation. The two Vipens can cover us and the suits while we fill the Jumpers. We fly in there cloaked, land the Jumpers as close to the tanks as possible and the bio-suits can get them into the back of the ships while the Vipens cover us from the air."

"We'd only get one attempt."

"One run," Stackhouse agreed. "Take as many as we can and get out."

"One attempt would not be enough to save all of the Goh," Teyla insisted. "There is only enough room in the Jumpers for two tanks each and none at all in the Vipens. There are many more tanks, all filled with precious life."

Though Lorne looked just as unhappy about it, he agreed with Stackhouse. "One attempt would be all they would give us, Teyla. We'll be lucky to save any if the Groten ship becomes operational and blows us all to hell before it heads into space. Better to have saved some than none at all, surely?"

Just then, a commotion started at the door of the barn. Fearful cries and the occasional bio-suit blast had people in a panic and everyone to their feet in seconds. A booming roar sounded above the noise, loud and desperate.

"Tey-laar!"

Teyla ran for the doors, pleading for calm as she moved between the wounded and the scared. Outside, she saw the massive form of Second-Primus staggering into the village centre.

"It is a friend!" she cried as a suited warrior took aim on the Groten as it dropped slowly to the ground and began to pull itself past the pond.

Teyla got to her knees beside the struggling beast which heaved down breaths as red froth dribbled from its jowls. It stopped moving as Teyla stroked at the bloodied fur of its face. There were massive rents in its hide, holes sliced all over spilling blood in a trail across the village centre.

"Groten... they are leaving... I tried... to stop them..."

"Get Carson and Rella!" Teyla shouted to Lorne as he approached with gun raised. "We must save the Primus!"

"Time runs out... once they knew what I was doing... they put me down... Healer and Primus slaughtered as I escaped... Groten intend to incinerate Goh with the ship engines..."

Carson skidded to a halt beside them, a small bowl of water in his hands. "Where will the wee thing come out?"

Rella surprised them all by pushing Carson aside and grabbing the Groten pelt to pull it fully onto its stomach. She then climbed up onto the Groten and plunged her hand deep into the large wound on its shoulder. The Groten wheezed and growled as Rella pushed her hand inside its body, searching for the dying Primus.

"If you take me out... the Groten will attack..."

Rella ignored it and continued. Lorne and Stackhouse raised their guns as Barna called over a Warrior. Carson grabbed Teyla by the shoulders and dragged her from the Groten. He didn't stop until they were far behind the armed soldiers and watched as Rella carefully started to withdraw her hand from the creature's body. Almost immediately the Groten began moving and snarling as it regained control. Carson took a step forward, watching Rella carefully while whispering, "Come on, love, get away from that thing..."

The Groten suddenly heaved itself upright, sending Rella flying through the air to land with a splash into the water of the village pond. The enraged Groten roared and unsheathed its lethal claws and bounded forward, furiously angry and ready to slaughter all in the vicinity.

Lorne and Stackhouse hit it with a continual hail of gunfire as the Caronaa warrior unleashed every missile at its disposal.

Already weak from its injuries, the Groten fell before its attack really began. It pitched forward with a loud sigh and hit the ground hard. Though it was mortally wounded it still snarled and reached for those who harmed it until the burning rage in its eyes dimmed and died.

For a few moments no one moved or spoke. They just stared at deceased beast as if it might once again rear up into an attack. Then the sound of Rella thrashing in the water drew their attention and they went to help. As Carson took Rella's hands and pulled her from the pond, Teyla searched the water for any sign of Primus. The water was muddied and tainted with blood, but she drew a breath of relief when she saw a small, black body swim to the edge of the water.

"You're crazy, you that, right?!" Carson said as he pulled Rella close and hugged her close.

"We need to get the Primus into the tank with the others," she gasped, looking as though she couldn't quite believe what she just did.

"And we need to get going," Lorne said darkly, his eyes still on the dead Groten.

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(0)

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Most of their plan was thrown out of the window with the report from Second-Primus. They could no longer spend time debating who or what went where and when. In order to save their limited cargo space, the decision was made to have both Jumpers head out with their respective pilots and only two bio-suit warriors. The sleek Caronaa Vipens would provide air cover while the Jumpers attempted to rescue four tanks of Goh.

Though Teldy's Jumper was deemed out of commission, Caran was adamant she could keep the thing in the air and cloaked long enough to scout ahead of the rescue. As the others got ready to fly out, Teldy's Jumper was already in the sky high above the downed Groten ship.

The mountain of dirt pushed ahead of the ship when it crashed had been excavated so that now the entire ship could be seen. Its hull had been patched up and reinforced almost perfectly. The new plates of metal blended with the original web-patterned hull so well it was difficult to see where most of the damage had been. It was clearly powered up as the lights embedded in the lines of blue metal between the plate segments were lit up and pulsing. The three cannon arrays atop the ship swivelled in identical patterns on what seemed to be a start up program.

To the rear of the ship were massive engines similar to the ones Teldy had stared into back on Ignothia as she steered her craft through the birthing valleys. Behind them stood the remaining tanks of Goh amid the remains of other shattered tanks. In their haste to move ship the Groten had been less than careful with the tank removal as they were placed haphazardly with some toppled on their sides. There had to be around thirty tanks still intact, many more than could be saved

Teyla looked down on them forlornly. "How can we ever decide which to save?" she asked no one in particular.

Teldy pulled the Jumper higher in the air with the intent of returning though the dampening field to report to Lorne and the others.

"Surely we can do something?" Dusty Mehra spoke up from the rear of the ship. "I mean, sure, we're not working to full capacity, but we could at least take one tank back with us? I mean, we're here, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are. But unless you've suddenly become the Hulk, how do you suggest we move one of those things?" Teldy replied drily. "I don't like it any better than you, but we can't go down there and-"

"Wait, look there," Teyla pointed. "One of the tanks is still on a platform!"

"Uh, and?" Dusty said as she made her way front to see for herself.

"The platforms hover; the Groten must be eager to leave and have left it behind!"

"Or it could quite easily be broken and useless," Teldy countered.

"And it could just as easily be in working order!" Teyla said exasperated.

Teldy didn't reply. She pointed the Jumper on a path back to the village in silence. Teyla folded her arms and looked away from her, utterly disgusted that Teldy would do nothing. Dusty sneaked to the rear of the Jumper where Caran sat continually monitoring the Jumper systems.

"Are we really going to do nothing?" Caran whispered.

Dusty just shrugged and blew a gum bubble until it popped.

Caran cleared her throat and said loudly, "We are though the dampening field."

At first Teldy ignored her, continuing to stare out the viewport with a scowl on her face. Caran looked to Dusty who shrugged again.

"We are through the-"

"I heard you," Teldy replied.

She slowed the Jumper to a hover just within communication range of the village. Quietly she warred with herself over the best thing to do. She was more than aware of the others staring holes in her but she ignored them as she sped through the pros and cons of attempting what Teyla requested.

It wasn't that she didn't want to go down there to save lives, she just wasn't willing to risk the lives of those around her. She had lost most of her team on a strange planet before and sure as hell didn't wish to lose another. She thought Dusty of all people would understand. But then, Dusty was clearly ready to risk her life and go down there. It wasn't that she had forgotten her long dead teammates; it was because she was alive when they were not.

"Live your best life in memory of them," Dusty had told her not long after the deaths occurred.

Teldy twisted in her seat then stared at the others in turn. They watched her expectantly. She drew a deep breath and faced front again and tapped her com.

"Major Lorne, slight change of plans..."

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... to be continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

In the partially lit blur of the birthing valley, John Sheppard was running out of air.

He had no idea how long the oxygen tank was meant to last, nor had he a clue how long he’d been in the water, but he found it increasingly difficult to breathe and figured the tank was almost depleted.  He struggled, trying to get the Goh to notice something was wrong. Then he wondered if struggling would only hasten the emptying of the tank so took shallow breaths and tried to remain calm.

How long would it take for the Goh to realise he was once again dying? Would it be when his dead body turned cold? Would it be when he finally convulsed in search of air that would never again fill his lungs? Or would they continue to doggedly guide his lifeless body around and around the birthing valleys until it rotted away? None of the scenarios were particularly thrilling to entertain.

He was starting to worry now. His lungs were starving, his chest burning, trying to inflate from a vacuum while causing his rib cage to heave erratically. Though he tried to remain calm, and steady his breathing, he soon realised the tank was completely empty.

Fear tore through John like never before as he contorted and grabbed for the mask covering his face. To remove it would be to drown, to keep it on would be to suffocate and he liked the idea of neither. The Goh on his arms and hands powered their little limbs to keep them away from his face. No matter how John fought against them the Goh in such masses were stronger than him in his weakened state.

His struggling increased as his body jerked painfully in its quest for oxygen. Soon he was in full panic mode, fighting against the Goh, clawing at his face and neck, his brain firing messages to accessory muscles to help restart respiration that would never kick in. He could hear himself struggle, heard his own death in the thrashing of his limbs and the diminishing panicked noises in his throat that sounded dull and strange under the water.

Within minutes his mind began to dull. The panic soon became a distant annoyance; something rapidly becoming removed from his thoughts.

He was fading.

The jerking began to subside as his body finally gave up the fight. His brain kept on trying to secure his continued existence by sending all kinds of messages throughout his body to keep on fighting, but there just wasn’t the oxygen in his blood to maintain the battle for survival. As a result his extremities twitched; arms, fingers, legs, all in ever decreasing intensity, just quivering nearing the end.

John vaguely noted a change in the movement of the Goh. Their speed had accelerated as if they had tired of the rapid natural movement of the water. It was a strange feeling as he could hardly feel the passing of the water but he felt a rhythmic and frantic beating on every inch of him as the Goh used their tiny limbs to propel themselves and him more speedily. The alternating changes from light to dark also sped up as he passed through luminescent tunnels into darkened ones more rapidly. John decided they had noticed he was running out of air after all.

He also decided that they were too late. He was going to die in these tunnels, he was sure.

Just as he thought his time had come, John felt some Goh converge around his head and tear the oxygen mask from his face as he felt himself torpedoed from water into air where he thrashed and gasped before he and a multitude of tiny Goh fell back into the water. He resurfaced and raised his face and breathed in so deeply he thought his lungs might explode. Gasping at the air, he was uncaring of the weird noises he made as his body came back to life from that first, yearned for breath. For long moments breathing was all he could think about; the surprising clearness of the movement of air through his airways, in and out, in and out, filling his greedy heaving lungs which filled to bursting.

When he eventually calmed and realised he wasn’t going to die, John took note of where he now found himself. The space was approximately eight-feet wide with a hole-ridden dome of rock around four feet above him. Through the holes dank rushes of air blew and chilled the area. John trembled, only now noticing the icy coldness of the place. The rock was luminescent and he managed to make out many tiny Goh swimming around him in the water.

He wiped water from his face, his hand stalling over his now prominent cheekbones and sunken cheeks. He imagined he must look cadaverous and hurriedly patted around his body, realising just how malnourished he was due to the Goh’s theft of his body’s nutrients.  He understood that although the Goh had somehow saved him, he still faced months of recuperation if he ever made it home.

Then it dawned on him that he might actually be more screwed than he first realised.

The Goh would have rushed him to the first area they knew they could find breathable air for him. What little he could remember of those hurried moments was how long it took to get him to this place. He wanted to believe it just seemed to take a while and seemed a long distance just because he’d been panicking. But with his wits about him now, he realised that this pocket of air might well be the only one in the valley, or at least, for some distance. If this was the case, he had no hope of ever reaching the surface and was stuck here in this dank cave.

It seemed he had traded death by drowning, for death by freezing. Yes, there was air coming in, but it was also freezing cold and he shivered and trembled as he bobbed in the water.

 “Well that’s just great,” he said to himself, his voice husky and rough.

He was starting to lose hope of ever seeing Atlantis again when his attention was caught by a rather plump specimen of Goh that repeatedly jumped out of the water and splashed back. It was an adult, black in colour and far bigger than the little ones swimming around John.

“Primus?”

The creature swam towards him, undulating up and down as if in affirmative answer.

“I wish I could understand you, buddy. But, thanks for trying to save me.”

The little creature started beating the water with one limb in a slow pattern of thumps. It took John some time to realise that Primus was beating words into the water with Morse code! He tried to concentrate while wondering exactly how the little thing even knew of the code. Even though John understood Morse code very well, he was still weak and his mind not working to full capacity. So he spoke aloud each word as Primus beat until sense could be made. When he got the word wrong, Primus would drop below the water and start again.

“I... learned... mister...”

Primus sank beneath the water then arose to start again.

“I ... learned... the... code... from... your... mind... Ahhh, now that’s clever!”

Beat beat beat...

“The... grails...?”

Primus sank beneath the water then started again.

“The... Groten... attacked... What? Where? Did the others get out safely?!”

Beat beat beat...

It was a laborious and time consuming task, but Primus was able to inform John of what happened while he was unconscious. Primus explained that the oxygen tank was damaged during the rush to get him to safety when the Groten threatened to attack. It had slowly leaked the precious air that John depended on. Primus also told him that the Groten had attacked when the Jumper full of his friends was spotted and that all reports said his friends had survived and stopped what would have been a cull of the Goh.

Primus also informed him of his current situation.

The tunnel he was in was one of many such air bubbles. The problem was Primus didn’t think John would be able to make it to the surface by using these bubbles as they were distanced too far apart.

“So what options do I have?”

Not many, John Sheppard. It would appear you are stuck here until your friends return.

“Here? As in, right here?”

There is little possibility of getting you back to the surface without drowning first.

John looked around his tiny, cold domain.

“I’ll die of hypothermia if I stay here,” he whispered as his teeth clattered and body shivered violently.

Primus disappeared beneath the water. The infant Goh followed it and John was left alone in his little bubble of stinking air. Unless the others returned for him he would spend the last moments of his life in this little hellhole dying yet another version of death. He was tired beyond words and becoming weaker by the minute. All the trembling muscles trying to keep him warm were burning through what little energy he had and several times John dropped beneath the water only to fight harder each time to resurface. If he didn’t shake himself to death, he would most assuredly drown. Faced with these two possible ways to die, he decided that being consumed by the tiny babies of alien tadpole people almost seemed the better way to bite the bullet.

John lowered his head back and allowed his body to simply float upon the surface of the water. Though he still trembled with cold, it was easier to stay afloat this way and he cursed his dimmed wits for not thinking of it sooner. He stared up at the rock above him and could see tiny glimmers of light shine through one or two of the air providing holes. It was sky he could see through them, daylight from an alien sky he might never fully look upon.

He wasn’t sad about this. He’d seen many an alien sky and though each had its own unique beauty, right then it was such a simple, almost insignificant thing to dwell upon. He didn’t mind the fact he might never see another sunrise, might never gaze upon another unfamiliar star lit sky. What bothered him more about his current predicament was not what or who he might never see or experience again, it was that the one thing that might save Kerria, would die with him, and be the death of him.

But while he was at that moment incapable of seeing a way out of his predicament, a new fight for survival grew within him. From this growing fight came strength to keep on going, a will to beat this latest hurdle, and a need to get his sorry ass out of this particular difficulty. And so John Sheppard closed his eyes and whispered to himself about what he wasn’t going to do.

He wasn’t going to die trapped beneath the water of an alien planet he had never seen with his own eyes.

He wasn't going to entertain the notion that his final moments would be spent floating in a musty bubble of stale air while gazing at pinpricks of light in some mouldy old rock.

He wasn't going to leave for the heavens without somehow seeing Kerria one last time at the very least, and saving her, at the very most.

He wasn't going to give up, ever.

His friends had not given up on him. The Goh had not given up on him. He’d be damned if he was going to give up on himself. He would take the chance. With the help of the Goh he would get to the next air bubble, and the next, and the next after that and on until he reached the surface. And from there? Well, that would be the next hurdle, and he’d decide how to jump that one when he got there.

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TBC...

Chapter Text

Chapter 35

Thirty-nine intact tanks filled with Goh stood within the destruction of others under the hot Caronaan sun. The ground was littered with glass and the drying husks of what once had been living, sentient creatures from a planet far away. They sat behind the vast, dead engines of the Groten ship, awaiting their fate once the ship fired into life.
Many Groten scaled the sides of the ship, carrying out final checks of the newly fixed hull and finishing off work that would soon see the ship operational, which would mean the end of the Goh trapped in the tanks.

Above the ship, high in the sky and invisible to all below, three Jumpers hovered silently, waiting. Further away behind the tree line, the two Caronaan Vipens sat waiting to be deployed. Seven bio-suited warriors stood beneath them, awaiting their orders. An eighth warrior stood in the trees nearest the Goh tanks, careful to stay unseen, alert to all movement of the Groten.

Major Evan Lorne sat in Jumper 2, looking down at the scene before him. His eyes darted between each Goh tank, trying to decide which two his Jumper might try to save. He knew each tank contained hundreds of tiny creatures and that by saving two tanks, he would be saving many lives, but deciding which to save was proving impossible. The weight of his decision pressed heavily on his mind and he had no doubt that Teldy and Stackhouse would be having similar internal debates. How does one decide which life to save when so many were at risk of imminent death? They shouldn't have to make this decision, none of them should, for it would be one they would forever question and hold themselves in scathing judgement. If they had more time, more manpower, they might have come up with a better solution than just managing to save four tanks. Well, five, now that Teldy had committed with her Jumper space to accommodate one tank. Even attempting to save these five tanks was incredibly dangerous, and there was no guarantee that any of them would survive should the Groten get their ship back up and running and take them all out.

Everyone had agreed that the best time for extraction would be when the very last Groten had boarded the ship and closed doors. By then, the bio-suited warriors would have relative safety to work on getting the tanks into the Jumpers and Teldy's team to get one tank on a floating platform and into hers. The plan wasn't foolproof, it depended almost entirely on luck and time: time to move into place, time to get tanks on ships, time to get the hell out of the way of those huge engines before they fired up, and time to escape. Realistically, they all knew there just wasn't enough time.

He knew that sitting there mulling over his decision was wasting the precious time they had so little of, but Lorne couldn't help but try and make the best choice of retrieval. As he watched, a massive Groten passed the cache of tanks and smashed some as it passed. The Atlanteans waited above, mourning the needless loss of lives. Thankfully, a second Groten snarled at the destroyer and it ceased attacking the tanks then made its way into the ship. Despite the destruction of the tanks, the decision of which to save was no easier, but Lorne finally decided that the tanks nearest the tree line were their best bet. As he was about to contact Stackhouse and Teldy to impart this information, Lorne's com momentarily burst static in his ear as it switched channels to Caronaa frequency. The voice he heard belonged to Barna, the leader of the Southern Battalion, who sounded agitated, and Lorne could see him the break cover of the trees below to wave up.

"Can anyone up there hear me?!" Barna's booming voice hurt Lonre's ears.

"Loud and clear, Barna, what's wrong?"

"There is nothing wrong, Fer Lorne, but everything might be right. I've just had word from Central City."

Lorne smiled softly as he listened to the rest of Barna's message, already seeing their odds of success and survival increasing. Lorne bit at his inner cheek as he mulled over the new information, then made a decision and clicked his com. "All ships and personnel fall back to the holding area."

His instruction was met with both dismay and alarm as the others voiced concern over the order, even as they carried it out.

"I'll stay by the ship and keep you informed of any developments," Barna told him.

"Copy that, Barna."

At the holding area, approximately a quarter mile from the Groten ship, the Jumpers landed near the Vipens, and Lorne and the others joined the Caronaans for an impromptu war meeting.

"What the hell, Lorne?!" spat Dusty as she traipsed down Jumper 3's ramp. "There's no time for this!"

"Make time, Mehra," he countered. "There's news from Central, our plan needs immediate re-evaluating."

"What's the word from Central?" Teldy asked as all congregated around the Major.

It was Orna who answered. "Central has rallied the full Eastern Warrior battalion, and they are already on their way to our location. They're also sending out another four Vipen ships, with two Advanced Bios on each.

"Advanced Bios?" Stackhouse asked.

"Bio-suits, twice the size of mine with more armament. The Advanced Bios are Central sentries; their deployment is unheard of outside of Central City."

"Oh, they sound awesome!" Dusty grinned.

"How long until they arrive?"

"The Vipens will be here in around five minutes. The battalion, maybe half an hour. It's the best we can hope for, Fer Lorne."

"Okay, okay. What's the status of the Goh tanks?"

"Barna says a further six were destroyed earlier, leaving thirty-three."

Lorne's features darkened, understanding that hundreds had died as they watched from above. It was an unconscionable loss of life, annihilation which they had been incapable of stopping without alerting the Groten to their presence. Lorne felt the loss heavy in his chest, but as he looked around him at the expectant faces of his comrades and friends, he understood that inaction had been his only choice at that moment. Even though he would happily have fired on that Groten and blown it to smithereens, he had a duty to care for everyone, not just the tiny creatures in the tanks. Lorne wasn't exactly sure when they had all started to look to him to lead. It had happened gradually, and with subconscious fluidness, he had taken on the mantle of commander of this mission. He felt it, the heaviness of the position upon his shoulders. His mind fired through workable scenarios with the new influx from Central on the way, trying to come up with a new and viable plan. He turned from the gathered group and asked Barna for an update.

"No more movement at the tanks, but it appears the Groten are getting close to lift off. They're starting to call in their workers. Aft doors already closed. Turrets are still and silent, I think they've finished their run-through."

Again, time seemed to be their worst enemy.

"Major Lorne?"

Lorne cast his eyes around to find the speaker, seeing Caran Muro take a step out from the crowd.

"Since we have three Jumpers, and the other Vipens will arrive shortly, I may have a plan we've not thought of before."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"I was thinking about when we dropped Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard at Ignothia. I modified the shields to allow him to be placed in the water."

"Okay, and?"

"Well, what if the Jumpers were positioned to the rear of the Groten ship and I was able to use the shields to save all of the tanks?"

"Is that even possible, Caran?" Teldy asked. "You know our ship is playing up, we can't take a weak chance when we have a stronger option."

"A stronger option that will see most of the Goh destroyed," Teyla reminded them.

"Yes, but with significantly better odds of our own survival."

"Can you do it?" Lorne interjected.

Caran looked around at the Vipens and warriors, then back to the Atlanteans and Jumpers, and nodded. "Yes, I think I can. It wouldn't have worked before, but with more ships and people, I think it will work."

"What do we need to do?"

)0(

The four Vipen ships had arrived, and word was that the eastern battalion was only several minutes away. The eight Advanced Bios warriors disembarked to appraising glances. They were huge machines, as large as Orna had said they would be. Instead of the standard blue metal, the Advanced suits were bright red, with a black stripe that ran through the body and outer limbs. Orna had failed to mention that the Advanced Bios possessed four arms as well as the heavy weaponry that adorned the upper body. It was clear that those within the suits required special training to work in them, as the extra set of arms were controlled not by any muscle movement of the pilot, but purely by their minds. The mental acuity of these highly trained pilots was staggering as one gave a show of the suit's capabilities to a stunned crowd.

While they waited for the eastern battalion to arrive, Caran worked on the three Jumper's shields and controls. She planned to have the Jumpers linked and work in union, with their shields set to a greater range to encompass the Goh tanks. Caran was unwilling to simply guess what the shield range should be. It would be disastrous if she miscalculated and the shield harmed anyone or anything. Therefore, she intended to set the range once the Jumpers had landed, meaning there would be a time of extreme vulnerability for all involved. With everything they faced, time and timing were still the overriding issues. The Jumpers would be exposed until they were on the ground and the shields set up. They would not be able to use the shield to cloak and so would be visible as they took up their positions.

This was where the Vipens and Bio-suited warriors would come into play, protecting the Atlanteans and Goh while everything was set up. It sounded a simple enough strategy, but it was a complicated plan involving many people playing their part to the letter. The Jumper pilots were to fly into the area in a synchronised pattern, so close together to be almost touching. The Advanced Bios were to somehow get to the Groten ship turrets and disable them. The warriors and remaining Atlanteans were to protect the Jumpers, Goh tanks and Caran as she set up the modulated shield. Then, all had to fall back to the Jumpers in time for the shield to come online so that all were protected from the Groten and the ship engines. And all of this counted on the Groten hitting the skies thereafter, something Dusty brought up as Caran rewired a crystal array in the back of Jumper 2.

"What if the Groten don't head off? What if they decide to stay and battle it out? We can't hide behind the shields forever."

"The ensuing battle would be catastrophic for us," Caran replied. "Therefore, let's just hope they don't stick around."

"That isn't much of a plan, though, is it? Hopes and prayers won't help us if the shields run dry and those beasts come after us."

"Look, I came up with a plan to save the Goh, I didn't factor anything other than that into my plan. It's up to Major Lorne and the others to figure out the rest. Hand me that bag, please"

"Are the shields strong enough for what you're asking them to do?" Dusty asked, handing the bag over. "I mean, those engines might just blow us away like paper in the wind."

"Combined and linked, they will be stronger and more resilient than one alone," Caran replied. "We can power the Jumpers to maximum reverse thrust if required. The Jumper engines work on a separate system to the shield, which is why both can run simultaneously without compromising power. I hope that the Groten will get their ship in the air as soon as they can. All we need is for the shields to keep running long enough to save the Goh."

"...and us... and our ships..." Dusty muttered, clearly dubious of the plan. "You do realise that if this fails, we lose everything, we lose everyone."

Caran sat back and looked up at Dusty with an irritated huff. "I'm doing my best here, Dusty. And if my best isn't good enough, I'm well aware of the consequences. And why are you bothering me anyway? Shouldn't you be with the majors trying to figure this out?"

Dusty pulled a fresh piece of chewing gum from her tac vest pocket and threw it in her mouth, drawing her eyes off Caran as the scientist got back to work. She stared at the back of Caran's head for a few seconds, then hunkered down next to her and toyed with the catch on one of the tool bags.

"You know, if you pull this off, it wouldn't surprise me."

Caran huffed again and looked at her suspiciously. "What's that meant to mean?"

Dusty fidgeted self-consciously, eyes refusing to look at Caran as she said, "You know shit I've no clue about. You're clever, and, well, I'm not. I'm just a grunt, an expendable. You're not. And I don't say it enough, that's on me, not you."

"What is? You're not making any sense."

Dusty growled and got to her feet. "God, you can be really thick at times."

Caran threw down her tools and stood, folding her arms haughtily across her chest. "I'm clever, but I'm thick? That's on you, not me? What the hell are you trying to say?!"

"We don't have time for this."

"Time for what, Dusty? What's going on with you?!"

"You are!" Dusty exclaimed, gesturing towards Caran with flailing arms. "You!"

Caran stood there for some moments, absolutely clueless, staring at her best friend while bothersome tears wetted her eyes. She racked her mind trying to figure out what she had done to offend Dusty and came up blank. The more she tried to understand, the angrier she got, so when Dusty turned and walked out the Jumper, Caran was relieved. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with her friend before the battle they might face.

She sat back on the floor, upset but determined to finish the job at hand. There were three of these consoles to strip back and rewire, and she was only halfway through this first one. The three Jumpers were required to be linked for this to work. She had to set up the interface beforehand so that once they landed, it would be a matter of simply linking the interface to set the shield up. None of what she was doing was easy, and Caran knew it was really a job for at least three people. The stress of the situation didn't help, nor did her quarrel with Dusty that festered away at the back of her mind, distracting her.

At last, she soldered the final connection to the modified console, placed it back in its holding and connected it back into the Jumper system. She did a final check, then wound the trailing interface cable along the length of the Jumper and hooked it by the bulkhead door. Gathering up her tools and bag, she made her way to the next Jumper to start the process again. Yanking out the console and setting it on the floor, Caran opened her bag of tools and reached in for one of her tools when footsteps sounded on the ramp. She glanced over to see Dusty Mehra amble her way onboard, a bottle of water in one hand and a snack bar in the other.

"I thought you might need a break," she said, offering Caran the meagre snack.

"I'm fine, I can't stop."

"You can spare five minutes," Dusty replied, forcing the bottled water in front of her face. "I'll even time the five minutes for you."

Caran accepted the bottled water and took a sip. "Are we ok?"

Dusty nodded, kicking her boot against the bulkhead.

"I mean, if I've done something to upset you..."

"You've not done anything," Dusty sighed.

"Then what was that all about?"

"I dunno. I guess I'm just worried, is all. There's a lot to lose in this gambit of yours."

"I know. I'm worried, too."

"Yeah," Dusty replied quietly, falling into deep thought.

Caran polished off the snack bar in two bites, then resumed her work. She pulled out the crystals from the console and stacked them to the side, then pulled wiring out from the back of the console. As she was soldering a new wire into the system, Dusty approached and sat opposite her, stretching out her long legs while blowing a bubble with her gum. When it popped loudly in the confines of the Jumper, Caran giggled quietly. Dusty grinned and chewed on the gum loudly as Caran finished soldering.

"You know you're my best mate," she said, pulling a new wire from her toolkit.

"Yep, best mate," Dusty replied in a strange tone.

Caran looked at her. "You are, you really are my best mate, and I hate it when we fight. So, let's not fight. Not with each other, at least."

Dusty stopped chewing and nodded her head. "I didn't mean to upset you. Like I said, I'm just worried."

"I know, I'm—"

"For you," Dusty broke in. "I'm worried for you."

"I told you, I'm fine. I just need to get these consoles finished."

"It's not that. When we start this, when we land, you're going to be at the back of the Jumpers, unarmed, unprotected... alone..."

"I need to be able to get the shield up and running, I can't be waving a P90 around while working with a delicate system and—"

"Goddamnit, Caran!" Dusty shouted and got back to her feet.

"What?!"

"I'm worried for you...only you."

"I... what... I... Oh..." Caran's face reddened, her mouth gaped, and her mind was suddenly void of all sense and thoughts. She just sat there quietly as Dusty tugged at her tac vest and coughed to clear her throat.

"So yeah, that's that. I'll just... I'll go see... I'll... just go..." She turned on her heels and stomped out of the Jumper, leaving Caran sitting there in stunned silence.

..
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Cookies? :D

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

Ronon awoke not long after the rescue party departed the village. He cracked open his tired eyes, still suffering under the effects of some medicine or another. He recognised the telltale bitter taste of it in his dry mouth, sensed the fuzziness in his head and felt enough tingling in his limbs to know that Beckett had put him out with some drug. He couldn’t even find the strength to be angry with the Doc, still aching all over from his various wounds. His head, arm, and ears hurt, but his torso was aflame with agony. He pulled up his shirt to stare at the dressings covering his torso, smoothed a hand over them and felt the heat radiating behind them. He grunted while turning onto his side, sweat bursting to wet his clothes.

He saw that he was hooked up to a bag of strange orange liquid. If his fever was anything to go by, he figured it was a Caronaan antibiotic dripping into the line in his arm. He supposed it wasn’t surprising, given that most of his wounds occurred in the forest and were caused by the claws of a Groten. None of this made Ronon any happier at his current predicament.

Ronon looked around himself at what he could see from his prone position. For some reason, he’d thought McKay had been in the bed next to his, but it was now empty. He thought perhaps his drug-infused brain might have made that detail up, but then, he did ponder Rodney’s whereabouts as his fever continued to burn through him. Ronon raised himself onto his elbow to look around the barn, trying to take his mind off his ails. The place was quieter than before. People were either asleep or gone from the place. He watched as a pallid man was taken from the barn on a stretcher and out into a waiting Vipen craft parked outside the barn doors. Once loaded, the craft took off, and another took its place. It seemed that the sick and injured were being moved, and he wondered if he, too, would be taken to whatever destination the Vipen was heading. He thought that perhaps Rodney had been taken in one and eased himself back onto the bed until he heard a loud, hoarse voice barking orders from the other side of the barn. He recognised the accent of Carson Beckett. He sounded distressed, which piqued Ronon’s interest. He pulled himself upright, a slight moan escaping his lips as his shattered arm protested and his torso burned from the movement.

His head spun dizzyingly for a moment, and he gripped the edge of the bed, closing his eyes so he didn’t see the room sway sickeningly before him. He heard a tapping sound and concentrated on the noise as he breathed through the painful sensations, hearing it come closer. When he opened his eyes, he saw the village leader stop before him, his wooden cane clicking one last time on the barn floor.

 “Oh, Fer Dex, you are a sorry sight indeed,” Sama said sadly.

“What’s happening?” Ronon asked, nodding towards another person being taken from the barn.

“Central City has opened the Monuth Hospital doors to the fallen. We are evacuating the most gravely ill first. Rest assured, there will be a place for you, soon.”

“I take it that person will be next to go?” he asked, looking in Beckett’s direction.

Sama said nothing but sighed wearily and sat on the edge of Ronon’s bed. When his silence drew on for too long, Ronon glared at him, an uneasy feeling permeating his thoughts.

“What?”

“It’s Fer McKay, I’m afraid.”

Ronon shot to his feet but stumbled, lightheaded, until Sama grabbed him by his shoulders, halting his near fall. The older man was stronger than he appeared and firmly sat Ronon back on the edge of his bed and held him there until the fight left him. It didn’t take long; the infection sapped his strength, and no matter his will to stand, Ronon was sure he wouldn’t be able to make another attempt anytime soon.

“What happened?” he asked instead through a haze of misery.

“Fer Beckett explained that while Fer McKay appeared to have mostly superficial injuries, there was one that had gone unnoticed, largely due to the bedlam in the barn when he was first triaged.”

“And yet, he managed to get back into a bio-suit?”

“Yes, an action that has forced these dire consequences upon him.”

“How bad is he?”

“Very bad, he is gravely ill. So much so that he remains too unstable to move to Monuth hospital. Fer Beckett is trying to stop the bleeding long enough to facilitate the move, but the outlook seems grim.”

Ronon snorted unhappily at Sama’s cool assessment of his friend’s health. The man was never one to mince his words, but his directness left nothing but pain in Ronon’s chest that had nothing to do with his injuries. Ronon shivered in his damp clothes, the fever continuing to burn through him as the infection ravaged his system. He felt almost too ill to care. But the fact was he did care, fiercely, and so he attempted to stand again despite Sama’s loud protests. His legs trembled, and he fought the urge to collapse back on the bed as nausea raised bile from his empty stomach to burn the back of his throat. He grabbed the bag attached to the line in his arm and then went to step forward, but Sama halted him momentarily.

“If you must insist on this action, Fer Dex, then at least allow me to help you,” Sama said softly, handing him his cane.

Ronon sneered at it, his pride flaring to deny the aid. Sama insisted and pushed it into his hand, then stood by his injured side to help guide him. Ronon’s gaze fell upon the frantic Carson, and he swallowed his pride, gripped hold of the cane, then took a few shuddering steps forward.

Carson was shouting orders to the people around him as he continued to work on Rodney, unaware of Ronon staggering up behind him. The doctor called for swabs and various instruments, yelled at one woman who handed him the wrong thing, then in the same breath, apologised and asked for the correct one. As he stepped up, Ronon saw that Carson was bloodied up to his elbows, drenched in Rodney’s blood. It was all he could do not to throw up as Carson plunged his hands deep inside the wound in Rodney’s lower abdomen, and he grunted as he bit back the bile. On hearing the sound, Carson threw an astonished glance towards him, then barked an order at the man standing near the end of the bed.

“For Christ's sake, get this idiot something to sit on!” he yelled, turning his attention back to Rodney. “What the blazes are you doing on yer feet?!”

“I needed to know, doc,” Ronon replied, lowering himself onto the chair with Sama’s help.

“You needed— you needed to know!? I’ll tell you what you need to know! Your system has a bloody smorgasbord of alien bacteria swimming through it, and you shouldn’t be up! You’re bloody lucky not to be in sepsis right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in danger of it! I’ve enough to deal with here without worrying about you at this present moment in time!”

“I’m sorry, Doc. I just…”

Carson’s demeanor mellowed, but he didn’t stop working. “Aye, I know, lad. I know. I’d be the same. Wait… wait a second…”

Carson fell silent, his hand movements slowing, and he leaned closer to better see inside Rodney’s wound. For long drawn out moments, no one uttered a word. Ronon himself didn’t even breathe as he watched the doctor gently move his hands within the wound.

“Those, give me those!” Carson cried suddenly, pointing a bloodied hand towards the array of medical instruments laid out on a small tray at Rodney’s side. “Hurry now!”

The aid handed over the small pair of forceps and the determined and anxious look on Carson’s face turned to one of relieved delight as he smiled and exclaimed, “gotcha, yeh wee bugger!”

A few more silent moments passed as Carson continued to work. He asked for sutures, for clean forceps, and for swabs that he pushed into the wound. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he asked for Rodney to be evacuated immediately to the waiting Vipen.

A stretcher was brought to Rodney’s bedside, and four aids gently slipped him onto it then hurried from the barn as Carson pulled off his gloves and apron and then used a towel to dab most of the red wetness from his arms. Carson looked at Ronon appraisingly, then said, “There’s no way you’re gonna allow yourself to be put on a stretcher, is there?”

“Not a chance, Doc,” Ronon replied with a slight grin.

“I need to go with Rodney, so you might as well come, too. No time to waste, up with you!”

Carson had him upright and moving in one fluid movement. The doctor’s arms held him firm as he and Sama guided Ronon to the Vipen and through the craft's open rear hatch. They shuffled up beside Rodney’s stretcher and sat on the wall-mounted seats by his side. Sama said goodbye as the hatch closed and the Vipen engines started up. Carson hooked Ronon’s bag of antibiotics on a peg on the wall, then immediately started to fuss, checking Rodney’s wound and vitals as Ronon looked on.

Rodney’s head was turned to face him. His eyes were half open and raised high in their sockets, roving side to side without seeing. His mouth was open; a small dribble of blood had dried upon his skin amid the bristle of his chin. His face was bruised and battered, a deep cut on his cheek closed with little sterile strips. His right arm hung lifelessly over the edge of the stretcher, dotted with various cuts and bruises, trails of blood long dried upon his skin. He was shockingly pale, made worse by the glaring white interior of the Vipen. Ronon’s eyes continued to look over Rodney’s form, and he saw that his left arm was strapped up, a piece of bone protruding from the skin pointing toward the roof. Ronon swallowed thickly at the sight, but nothing prepared him for what Carson checked over.

On the left of Rodney’s abdomen, there was a huge, gaping wound. How it had been missed was beyond Ronon, as it was no mere laceration. Carson saw him stare and sat beside him as the Vipen finally lifted off.

“It wasn’t that big to begin with,” Carson said quietly “When it was first noticed, it was marked down as bruising by one of Rella’s medics, and to be honest, it did look like one at the time. A blossom of blues that peeked up above the waistline of his trousers. His arm seemed worse, and that's what he moaned about the most. But a few minutes after we got him out of the bio-suit for the second time, he took a turn for the worse. We rechecked his wounds and found it was more than just a bruise. It was also a high-impact puncture wound. We had already extracted a Groten claw from his shoulder that caused a wound in a similar shape, but the claw that did this was far bigger and went deeper. The wound held together well enough, most likely helped by the tightness of his waist belt, until Rodney’s hare-brained idea to get back into another bio-suit and take off on a rescue mission. I believe the conforming mechanism of the suit shifted the belt, and as a result, the wound burst. It’s probably why he didn’t make it back to the village conscious. I had to cut the wound further open to try and find the leaking vessel. I only just found it when you sat down.” Carson heaved a sorrowful sigh. “His collapse was caused by internal bleeding from a wound I failed to diagnose.”

“Not your fault though, is it, doc? You said one of Rella’s crew did the initial check.”

“Aye, but I should have checked for myself.” Cason looked down and scraped at the dried blood on his wrist. “I nearly lost him.”

“He’s still here, thanks to you.”

Carson stood to check Rodney over again as the Vipen continued its journey to Central City and Monuth Hospital. Ronon was shivering so badly now that his teeth chattered even as he swept sweat from his brow. Hearing the sound, Carson looked at him with concern. “Only you would pick yourself up out of bed as ill as you are. You should have stayed put and allowed that concoction to work,” he chastised, looking at the bag of antibiotics. “Here, let me check you over.”

“I’m fine Doc.” Ronon pushed Carson’s hands away. “Take care of McKay.”

“Listen, big man, you will sit there and let me check you over, or by God, I’ll have you taken off active duty for a few months and put on enforced bed rest.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I bloody well would, and you know it.”

Ronon resigned himself to the health check, which consisted of recording his blood pressure, pulse rate, and temperature and a quick look at his wounds. Carson grimaced as he held up Ronon’s torn shirt and peeled back the dressing over the slashes on his torso.

“They’ll need to be properly washed out when we get to Monuth. It’s not going to be pleasant, but unless you want to come down with sepsis, it needs doing. What a state. There was only so much I could do back at the barn.” His eyes wavered towards Rodney momentarily as he patted the dressing back down and lowered Ronon’s shirt. “Hopefully, we will get you on better medicine there and a bed to rest in, which—I might add— you will bloody well stay in!”

Ronon was about to reply when the Vipen took a sudden change in direction, jostling the occupants of the rear compartment. Carson jumped up when Rodney came perilously close to falling out of the stretcher, leaning over the unconscious man and holding him safe. Ronon gripped the bar above his head as the Vipen dove rapidly before straightening and leveling out again.

“Sorry about that,” the voice came from the pilot via the intercom. “We had a rapid deployment of Vipens from Central and had to get out of their way. Everyone okay back there?”

“Aye, we’re fine. What’s going on?”

“Central is sending more help to the rescue front. There is a new plan, and the Minister has sent more help.”

)0(

Monuth hospital was as gleaming white and sterile as the Vipens. Being the only hospital this side of Caronaa, it was enormous. Corridors stretched for miles. Wards accommodated many beds in private rooms. Staff were plentiful, which was good considering the recent influx of injured from the village. The weak and injured people were triaged in a spacious room across the corridor from the emergency department, then sent on to the best place to care for them. Carson dropped Ronon off in the triage area and followed Rodney’s stretcher into the emergency room.

Inside were several people in red gowns and facemasks who helped move Rodney from the stretcher onto a bed in one of the bays. Another person in a burgundy gown pulled on sterile gloves and listened intently as Carson reported Rodney’s condition to the team. He watched as a large rectangular contraption from above lowered over Rodney’s inert form. It had lights and a magnified viewing panel through which the person in burgundy looked.

“Thank you, Fer Beckett. You did a great job, considering what you had to work with. Rest assured, we will continue your work and get your friend fixed up for you.”

Carson nodded and thanked them all for their help, quite reluctant to leave Rodney but aware that there was nothing else he could do for him except wait. So he wandered back towards the triage, only to be told that Ronon had already been assigned a bed in the twelfth corridor. He left the triage area behind and wandered through the hospital. The place hadn’t changed since he’d been there helping medical staff with plague victims almost two years before. The wards were still bright and clean, and everyone he passed smiled at him in greeting. Eventually, he came to the ward where he originally helped the Caronaan plague victims. He stood outside the doors, peering in at the dimly lit area.

John had confided in him about Kerria’s condition months before. Though the man had tried to hide it, Carson could see how deeply he cared for the Caronaan woman and worried for her. Before AR-1 left on this recent mission, John had sought him out. For what felt like the hundredth time, he asked if Carson had made any progress on a cure for those in which the original cure failed. When he sadly told John that he hadn’t, Carson had seen the fervent hope die in his eyes, saw the walls of his calm façade crumble at the admission. Something about his desperation bothered the doctor, but John refused to speak about it. He had squared his jaw as his cracked façade rose once more, thanked Carson, then left without another word. The interaction troubled Carson enough to make an urgent subspace call to Monuth, only to discover that the comatose plague victims had finally begun to succumb to their illness. That Kerria and the others had lasted as long as this was a testament to the careful attendance of those working in Monuth hospital.

Carson pushed through the doors and stepped into the ward. Unlike the rest of the hospital, there were no happy smiles on the faces of those working within, no bright enthusiasm, and no hope. The place was eerily quiet, except for sounds from medical devices and the hushed tones of grim-faced workers. Staff nodded in greeting as he passed them, having seen him around in the days and weeks following the opening of the plague ward as he tried to find a second cure. It surprised him to discover that half of the ward was now empty; beds stripped down and cleaned, standing in darkened bays of silence. He continued through the ward, counting less than twenty desperately ill patients. Over a hundred had been there the last time he had visited.

He found the bay he was searching for and stopped at Kerria’s bedside, frowning as he looked down at her. She was deathly pale. Her face was covered by a mask that delivered oxygen to her damaged lungs. Carson smoothed her long blond hair, the straw-like brittle texture of it only deepening his frown. The reading on the machines hooked to Kerria told him all he needed to know, and Carson shook his head sadly.

“Oh, lassie. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, reaching to hold her cold hand.

He absentmindedly traced a circle on her hand with his thumb as he stared at the oxygen mask. Something niggled at the back of his mind, something he couldn’t quite grasp, which caused him annoyance. He listened to the quiet woosh of air from the ventilator, still staring at the mask, when a nurse entered the bay and broke his thoughts.

Smiling, she set down a tray and offered her hand to Carson. “It’s been a while, Fer Beckett.”

“Janse! How have you been?” Carson asked with a smile, taking her hand in his free one and squeezing it warmly.

 “I have been well, and you?” she replied, turning to the tray and tearing the top from a small vial of liquid.

“I’ve had better days.”

He watched Janse empty the vial into a small chamber and adjust Kerria’s oxygen mask. Something about the mask continued to annoy Carson, and he stared at it for long moments.

“Have you come to see Rella by chance?” Janse asked, a small smile tugging her lips.

“Oh, no, I saw Rella in the village,” Carson replied, his cheeks reddening. “I came here with two injured friends. I’m heading back to the village soon, thought I’d pop in and see what’s happening here.”

Janse nodded, her smile vanishing. “It’s just the same, there’s no change in any of the people that remain. It’s a waiting game now, Fer Beckett. Their time has run out, so we care for them in their final days.”

“It’s one of my biggest regrets,” Carson said, patting Kerria’s hand and letting go. “Not being able to save them.”

“No one could help them, Fer Beckett. The Great Being knows we tried, but the failure isn’t entirely your own to bear.” She tugged at Kerria’s mask, changing over the tubing to accommodate the nebulizing chamber.  

Again, Carson stared at the mask, feeling the same annoyance from before. It felt as if he was on the cusp of understanding something huge. He couldn’t quite grasp the significance of the mask or why it was pulling his attention.

Janse connected the nebulizer and set it to run. A quiet, whistling rushing noise started as the chamber converted the liquid into a vapor that Kerria breathed via the mask.

The mask… what is it about that bloody mask…?

It infuriated him, and it was a few moments before Carson noticed that Janse was waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay, Fer Beckett?”

He glanced at the mask, then at the nebulizer, back to the mask, and he finally understood. A huge smile broke upon his face, and he clapped his hands.

“Oh, I’m fine, lass,” he grinned and pulled her into a hug that made her giggle. “I am more than fine! I need to get back to the village, pronto.”

Carson clapped his hands again, then ran from the ward, leaving Janse to stare after him in amused bewilderment.
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> Feed me cookies!

Chapter Text

Chapter 37

Primus darted through the dark tunnels of the birthing valleys, searching for a place for John Sheppard. It sought a place of warmth, not easy to come by so deep underwater. So far, finding anywhere that might provide refuge for Sheppard was proving difficult. The human had made good progress within the birthing valley, but that healing meant nothing if he perished while stranded in a tiny, freezing air pocket.

Primus searched everywhere, though it worried that what it sought would be inaccessible to the human. As it travelled, the tiny creature logged the position of air pockets along the way, resting places for Sheppard should Primus find a viable place. By Primus's estimation, it already seemed a much too difficult journey for Sheppard, and it had yet to find anywhere even remotely suitable.

Hundreds of years of Goh knowledge resided in its tiny mind, but its panic didn't help it access any relevant information. Primus panicked over the human's death, what its kin might do once the death was confirmed, and the return of the Groten ships to their waters, prompted by the presence of the human's craft. It needed better options, so Primus headed back towards the great cavern.

For some time now, the unified connection of all Goh had broken down. The remaining Eldus were too immature and too few to maintain the connection, so the Goh had no access to their vast knowledge banks. Primus had been very young when it was harvested. It remembered the comfort of the unified Goh and yearned for it. The Primus beings still living in the Ignothia waters continued their function to disseminate knowledge and teach the new generations, but the breakdown hindered their vocation. This meant that Primus had to seek the help of the Eldus for the information it required.

The great cavern, with luminous rocks dotted with thousands of holes, was the main gathering area for shoals of Goh. The holes in the rocks led to dwellings, nurseries, other caverns, and underwater systems that went on for miles. The Eldus dwelling was located within the rock formation in the center of the great cavern, placed perfectly to net all Goh into the collective. Primus, painfully aware that time was running out for Sheppard, churned the water with its tiny flippers and sped into the Eldus dwelling without the expected reverence.

Four young Eldus floated in the comfortable grotto. They were the largest of Goh, their skins a deep and iridescent indigo that shimmered in the light emanating from the surrounding rock. They regarded Primus as it stopped before them, silently and patiently waiting for it to speak.

"Great Ones, I come with haste to request information to save the human, John Sheppard."

"Greetings, Primus." Their voices filled its mind, all four speaking as one. "We know of the human and what it has done for us. What do you want to know?"

"The human needs warmth and air. If he stays where he is at present, I fear his life will come to an end. I fear what might happen if he dies."

The Eldus did not speak for some time, and Primus worried that they held no answer.

"You fear retribution should his life be extinguished?"

"Yes, Great Ones."

"No, Primus, you are mistaken. You regard this human as your friend," the Eldus said quietly. "You fear it… his, leaving. You have become irrational through worry for this human. You do not fear retribution from his kin; you fear his loss will hurt you."

"Yes, Great Ones," Primus admitted, accepting their words as the truth it knew them to be.

Sheppard had become more than just a human who helped the Goh. In the hours when Primus resided within him, thinking it would die, Sheppard had become a friend. They had been connected in thought for many hours before the return to Ignothia, and while Sheppard had ultimately suffered because of the Goh, they communicated as equals. They both learned from each other about their lives, dreams, and hopes, and discussed the vast differences and experiences between them as species from strange, different planets. Primus had experienced much savagery at the hands of other species, the Groten being the most savage of all. Primus had cultivated a deep hatred of anything not Goh because of this, as had many that suffered in the Groten tanks. But John Sheppard had proved that not all species were the same, not all were out to harm them. In their darkest hours, when both had resigned to their possible deaths, the two beings had forged a partnership that Primus treasured: a unique relationship with a being from another world. The thought of John dying was one that Primus could not bear.

"When minds become one, the bond is great and mourned once lost. Sadly, we Eldus know this more than most. Even though your connection is with a human, it doesn't diminish how you feel about possibly losing him."

Primus sank to the bottom of the grotto, coming to a rest on its sandy bed. "You speak truth, Great Ones. He may not be Goh, but he treated us with kindness and astonishing compassion even as we damaged him. He made sure that my kin were delivered home, and then he announced that his kin would try and liberate our imprisoned kinfolk. He gave us hope, he gave me friendship. And now he dies in our cold waters, and I am unable to help."

The four Eldus floated down to converge around Primus, each sending waves of warmth and loving support to its tiny thoughts.

"Dear Primus, do not despair. We are Eldus, after all. We have the knowledge that you seek."

)0(

John was past caring as he floated in the icy water. His core body temperature was plummeting to dangerous levels, and he was sure that after everything he had gone through, his time was finally up. His entire body felt numb, with only enough energy to tremble slightly in the water. He stared up at the light coming in through the holes in the rock above him, wishing they carried rays of warmth that might heat his freezing body. He had no clue how long he'd floated there. Primus had beaten a message into the water that John hadn't understood. But this wasn't Primus's fault; it was because John couldn't focus long enough to decipher the message. And so Primus took off into the depths and left him there, alone.

After a while, John's mind drifted. Hazy memories surfaced that his mind projected onto the rocky walls of his watery prison. He saw loved ones and friends, smiling down on him, passing his eyes in a stream of fantasy created by his tired mind. He watched the memories play out with a soft smile on his lips, unaware that his head was beneath the water and his body slowly submerged. The memories gave way to an image of Kerria, her long hair floating around her head in an ethereal underwater dance as she smiled and reached for him. She called his name, softly at first, then more urgently as her smile disappeared. Her face contorted, and she screamed his name, making John open his eyes to the fact he was drowning.

He struggled weakly to rise above the water, his waterlogged clothes finally dragging him down now that his strength had left him. His arms uselessly flailed as his legs kicked feebly beneath him. He slowly sank while his lungs burned and yearned for the cold air above. He panicked as his movements weakened, struggling to get his limbs to coordinate. His body convulsed as he fought against the involuntary urge to breathe. Then he felt things bump into his back. John grasped at his throat, making suppressed choking noises as he sped through the water, the Goh pushing his weight upwards at speed.

When he breached the waterline, John heaved in a deep breath. He weakly splashed about as he coughed and spluttered, surprised to have survived the event. The Goh didn't leave him again, staying with him and buoying him in the water as he stretched out to float on his back. He breathed raggedly, aware that it was unlikely he would survive a third drowning episode. This awareness brought with it fatalistic thoughts that clouded his mind and the depressing fact that he was unlikely to survive for much longer.

What was the use in fighting anyway? His body was ruined. He was trapped in an underwater system with no way to escape, and where would he go if he could? He was on a different planet. He wouldn't know where to go, what to eat, or what to do. He had no means of communication with his team and had no idea how long it would be until they returned. He couldn't even wait safely for their return as every part of his current situation worked against him. At some point, the water, the cold, the unending hunger or the combination of all three would kill him. John just couldn't see a way out of this. Even when Primus eventually returned and began beating a message on the water, John felt no hope. He ignored the tiny splashes, refusing to decode the message of probable platitudes.

The tiny creature hauled itself from the water to rest on his chest before John acknowledged it. He watched as it crawled its way closer to his face, a trickle of fear in his mind as he saw its teeth-ringed mouth open and close repeatedly. It took a moment for him to understand that Primus was suffocating and not trying to eat him, as he so foolishly thought. He wondered why it would put itself in such a position until he accepted that his stubbornness and reluctance to acknowledge it led Primus to take such action. He gently took hold of the little creature with numb fingers and set it back in the water. He apologised and waited for it to communicate, hoping his dwindling concentration would hold long enough to understand what Primus wanted to say.

There is a cave with air and warmth.

It is near an underwater crevasse from which heat radiates.

"Like… like a hydrothermal vent?" John asked.

I am unsure what that is, Sheppard.

It is situated on the boundaries of the birthing valleys.

Should we get you there, you may be able to recuperate in the healing waters with no fear of drowning or freezing.

"Should you get me there? Sounds like that might be problematic. Why didn't you take me there to begin with?"

I did not know of its existence at the time of your arrival.

It is a part of the birthing valleys that is too dangerous to swim, even for Goh.

Getting you there will require some rest stops for you to breathe.

There are not many places for this to happen.

"So I might drown on the way?"

We hope not.

"How feasible is it? I mean, would I be better just staying here?"

This new place will give you a better chance of survival, Sheppard.

You will not survive here for much longer.

"Yeah, no shit," John whispered mostly to himself.

Even though his recent train of thought was morose at best, John still possessed the will to survive. He wouldn't give up unless there were no alternatives, and Primus had just given him another option to save himself. It wasn't going to be easy, and it was possible he wouldn't make it to this new cave alive, but he was going to try. Once the plan was explained, John readied himself for what could be his final journey. Primus had planned it to the tiniest details, one of which John didn't like too much. It involved a large shoal of mature Goh, bulky, strong specimens with long, powerful flippers. The plan was for the adult Goh to anchor themselves to John so that there was no way he could be lost in the riptide of the birthing valleys and drown, which sounded fine until John realised what that meant. Primus explained that to navigate together in one moving and stable mass safely, he would have to endure many tiny teeth buried in his skin. John's mind recoiled at the idea. These weren't the tiny Goh that had taken him through the birthing valleys by pushing and nudging him with what John thought of as their noses. These were fully mature adults, with big mouthfuls of needle-like teeth.

I'm afraid the waters in the part of the valleys we must take you are more ferocious than the waters you were in before.

"Can't they just bite into my clothes?!"

There is a possibility that your clothes could dislodge, and you would be swept away.

You would drown, Sheppard, and there would be nothing we could do to help you.

John mulled this over; bite or drown, bite or drown? It wasn't much of a choice.

"These waters better heal up any hickeys you make," he drawled sourly.

What are hickeys?

"Never mind. So, are we gonna do this?"

At first, John didn't feel the biting of the adult Goh, his body too numb with cold. But as they pulled him into the fast moving current, he started to feel the pull of their teeth in his skin very quickly. One bite wouldn't be too bad as they were small creatures. But he'd counted at least forty of these things, now all biting into nearly every part of his body. He felt their teeth pulling at every turn and more keenly when the water threatened to pull him into a whirlpool or throw him into a rocky outcropping. John found that holding his breath while enduring this proved difficult. Every time the teeth tugged him, he wanted to take a sharp intake of breath, and every time, he had to grind his teeth so that he didn't.

John soon understood why the Goh insisted their teeth were his only way through this part of the birthing valleys. The waters were violent and fraught with dangers. More than once, he collided with rock when the pull of the water almost proved too much even for forty-plus large Goh. Had they not been tethered to him physically, John knew he would have either drowned or died smashed against a rock within moments of entering the lethal torrent. And it turned out that his clothes would have been a terrible idea to hook their teeth into as he had already lost his shirt and was in danger of his trousers being ripped from his legs.

When John surfaced in the first rest area, he heaved in rapid, noisy breaths. He hoped the next rest stop wouldn't be as far as this one. He'd almost not made it, had been within seconds of breathing the icy water deep into his lungs. He looked around this new area as he breathed laboriously. It was similar to the last place he'd been, in that the rock above was dotted with holes where air came in. Curiously, he could see no light through these, and the rock didn't glow as brightly as it did in other areas. Still, he could make out the little Goh floating around him, waiting for him to rest enough for the next part of the journey.

He could also see his arms and the tiny punctures within rings of raised, red patches on his skin. He counted seven on his right arm before he gave up and dropped it back into the water. He would be covered in the patches of bites, he knew, but it sure did beat drowning. There had been a terrifying moment when the Goh had failed to stop him from impacting a wall. He slammed into it, forcing what little breath remained in his lungs out through his gritted teeth. He couldn't blame the Goh for the incident; he'd felt the strength of the current and was surprised they hadn't been torn from his body to leave him in a watery grave. Fortunately, this had happened just seconds before reaching this place, and he hadn't suffered too long. Unfortunately, he had to risk it all over again getting to the next pocket of air.

John calmed his breathing as best he could, then breathed in and out in a rapid, controlled way to oxygenate his blood. When he felt ready to make the next attempt, he lay back in the water and allowed the Goh to reattach. He felt the sting of their bites this time, each one seemingly a little deeper than before. They wasted no time, for as soon as John took a final heaving breath, they pulled him under the water and back out into the breakneck speeding surge.

At the fourth resting stop, Primus informed John it was the last and that the next time he broke water, it would be in his final destination. It was a relief to know this part of his ordeal was almost at an end. One final push and maybe he could relax, heal, and live long enough to see Atlantis again. He might have imagined it, but John was convinced that the water felt warmer. Even the air didn't seem so chilled when he inhaled and started the breathing exercises for his final dive. When he slipped back into the depths, he felt the water was calmer in this region.

The Goh didn't bite quite so hard, though they still held him in control. The depths began to brighten, and the rocks once again became luminous. There was also a more diffuse light ahead that got brighter as they travelled. The calmer waters were still difficult to navigate, but John felt the ride more comfortable, almost relaxing, compared to the previous. And for a few brief moments, he enjoyed being pulled along the underwater passageway.

Then, the Goh suddenly bit harder and viciously dragged him to the right. Ahead, the light disappeared and was engulfed by an ominous moving shadow. John could feel the Goh's flippers accelerate as the vibrations surrounding his skin increased. Another sickening twist and John cried out, precious breath lost in a burst of bubbles and muffled cries as tiny teeth tore at his flesh in a bid to swiftly change direction. It appeared that the shadow lunged at them, and John saw that the shadow was a dark sentient creature that dwarfed even himself. With his lungs empty, he struggled not to breathe in as the chase continued. Once again he felt the horrifying urge to open his mouth and suck in air that didn't exist as the attacking creature lunged again. This time, John felt the water around his head violently displaced as massive jaws snapped shut inches from his face. Terrified squealing noises choked in his throat, and he was sure he would either be eaten alive or drowned in the next few seconds.

Something painfully impacted the side of his head. It felt like a brutal slap from the hand of a giant, and his head snapped backward, colliding solidly with rock, causing an explosion in his head. The last John saw was terrifying darkness as he unwillingly heaved in an almighty breath. Agony erupted in his chest as water rushed into his lungs, and John felt the unnerving feeling of sinking to the depths, seconds before he lost consciousness.

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Feed meh cookies!

Chapter Text

Chapter 38

Everything and everyone was ready. A solitary Advanced Bio warrior stood at the front of the gathered troops, one of its four arms raised in the air. Everyone waited in silence, watching for the arm to drop and signal the start of the rescue. Major Lorne watched that raised arm intently from the window of Jumper 2, running the plan through his mind one more time.

Four recently dispatched Vipens were inbound, bringing the flying troop numbers up to ten. On their final approach, the entire assembly of Atlanteans and Caronaans would move out to protect the Goh tanks. The lead Advanced Bio, piloted by a young Caronaan male named Fimas, was linked and communicated with all Vipen and Jumper pilots to time their advancement with the arrival of the new ships.

Lorne was uneasy. The plan was the best they could devise to save the Goh, but if the Groten decided to stay and fight and the shield failed, the battle would end in slaughter. Should the huge creatures make a stand on foot, they would overpower humans. If they instead decided to turn their ship around and fire upon them, they would be nothing but dust in a crater. Everything banked on the Groten fleeing the planet and the shield working, which were the unpredictable variables of the plan. He, Teldy, Stackhouse, Barna and Orna had organised the troops in a battle plan should the Groten make a decision other than fleeing. As soon as they broke cover, their element of surprise would be gone, so they had to start strong. As soon as the superior bio-suits had cleared the tree line to give access to the Goh tanks and a landing area for the Jumpers, the standard bio-suited battalion would move in to cover the ground. As the Jumpers landed in formation, the Vipens would cover the Groten ship from the air. Whether ten Vipens would be enough to take on the massive alien craft had been debated; regardless, it was all they had. Once they had cleared the tree line, the Advanced Bios would then move to descend upon the Groten ship and take out the silo turrets, hopefully disabling them and forcing the departure of the invading beasts. Lorne silently prayed that everything went according to their hastily made plan while waiting for that arm to drop.

)0(

In the rear of Jumper 3, Caran Muro prepared for the moment she would leave the safety of the Jumper and set up the interface that would combine the three ship's shields into one upon landing. Fully aware that she would be exposed to attack, she endeavoured to push the rising fear from her mind. She couldn't permit herself to succumb to a frightened stupor; the plan would only succeed if she maintained the massive shield long enough to protect everyone. She scrolled through data streams on her tablet, reviewing her calculations one last time. A minor error appeared in Jumper 3, but she had worked with this old girl long enough to know she could fix it. Caran often imagined the ship as a cantankerous old lady who relished making things as difficult as possible for her. Wear and tear had made it particularly ornery, causing intermittent outages and serious failures that Caran desperately hoped wouldn't interfere with the plan. If she survived this and returned to Atlantis, she would ensure Jumper 3 underwent a major overhaul.

)0(

In Jumper 4, Stackhouse beat a tuneless rhythm on his knees as he waited. He absentmindedly listened to the anxious whispers from his team as they discussed what they were about to undertake. Jumper 4 sat to the left, Teldy's in the centre with Lorne's on the right. He was concerned about their proximity and how he would soon have to fly in that tight formation. Not that he doubted his flying skills; he doubted that of the others. This wasn't because he had seen either of the other pilots fly badly; it was simply self-preservation. One wrong move or a twitch at the wrong moment, and the resulting fallout would be spectacular. It was one thing to fly straight into a Stargate; the process was a preprogrammed automated system between the Jumper and 'Gate. Not much could go wrong with it, though Stackhouse had been piloting once when an engine pod had jammed in a gate and stranded him in dematerialised cold storage. Flying these ships used Ancient neural technology, so one wrong thought might send the three craft careening into each other. This was why, as he continued to drum an anxious rhythm on his knees, he worked through the plan in his mind until it flowed through his thoughts effortlessly. Get it right now, and reap the benefits later.

)0(

On the ground, Orna held a position at the front and center of the attack battalion. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Barna and the female leader of the Eastern Warrior Battalion, Tical. She'd never been so proud to be a Caronaan warrior as she was right then. Her comrades stood beside and behind her, ready and willing to give their best and possibly their lives for the good of others. It was the essence of the warrior life to risk everything for another. She had every faith in her people and the Atlanteans. If anyone could save the tiny lives within the Groten tanks, they could. Orna flexed her fingers, the bio-suit hands following her movement precisely. She eyed the HUD and checked her systems for the umpteenth time since taking position, ensuring her suit worked at full capacity. Ahead of her were seven Advanced Bios, immense, powerful machines that she hoped to pilot one day. She dreamt of being a Central Sentry, solely to get inside one of those suits. As Orna looked them over with a coveted gaze, she decided that if she survived, she would apply to Central and get herself one of those impressive machines.

)0(

At the tip of the troop formation, Fimas held his arm high for all to see, watching the approach of the four Vipen craft on his HUD. He pointed a finger to the sky as they drew near, prompting the other six Vipens and the three Jumpers to rise in readiness. His superior networked HUD showed him that the power levels in the battalion of bio-suits behind him increased as their pilots got ready for his final signal. Having been lead Central Sentry for the best part of five rotations, Fimas was a battle-hardened soldier. Young as he was, he'd been in enough wars to understand that this battle was perhaps one of the most important he'd ever fight in. He saw a much broader picture than most, if not all of the others taking part in the rescue. Fimas believed that should the Danu, no, Groten ship escape, its leaving might herald a new and terrifying war era for Caronaa should the occupants return with backup. His goal was not to subdue or chase away this frightening enemy but to obliterate it at all costs. His fellow Sentrymen were aware of this and fully supported his goal to destroy the Groten ship. While only eight Sentry Bios were present, they could wreak much havoc when desired. Four arms were better than two, and the weaponry of the suits was similar to that on a Vipen ship. Their size and strength were more than double that of a standard suit, so Fimas and the other Sentry had devised their secret plan for the Groten: allow the battalion and Vipens to take on ground soldiers as he and the other Sentries took down the ship and disposed of all the filthy animals aboard. Their crashing here had not been intentional; therefore, it stood to reason that no other Groten knew this ship was here. Fimas planned it would stay that way. As the extra Vipen ships roared in, Fimas dropped his arm and charged forward.

)0(

So, the battle commenced.

Two Vipens sped overhead and fired down on the trees behind the Groten ship. As the trees fell, the Advanced Bios cleared them and the area immediately behind the Goh tanks, then ran ahead and climbed the Groten ship's sides. The eastern battalion rushed past the Goh-filled tanks, weapons bristling as the ship doors opened and Groten began to exit and attack. The Jumpers flew precariously close but were perfectly maneuvered by the three experienced Atlantean pilots and landed gently, their bulkhead doors opening before they even touched down. Vipen flew overhead, firing down on the snarling, violent beasts which clawed and tore through the bio-suit battalion. Ships safely on the ground, the Atlanteans exited and immediately took position ahead of the tanks as Teyla, Caran, and Nara rushed to hook the Jumpers to the interface and get the shield up and running. Once connected, Teyla positioned herself in front of Caran and Nara's exposed forms, seeking to protect them as they worked.

The air was filled with screams and snarls, weapon fire and the squealing tearing of metal. Three of the four silos on the Groten ship had been torn down, while the fourth continued to fire upon the Vipens. One was hit and exploded into a million pieces as two Advanced Bios struggled to disable the silo. They were hindered by the fact three Groten tore at their suits as they worked, attempting to break through the bright red metal to the humans within. One succeeded and ripped the Sentry from his suit before sinking its teeth into his neck and tearing it open. The Advanced Bio suit continued to thrash, controlled by the ever-diminishing feedback in the neural link until the Sentry expired.

The remaining Advanced Bios managed to break free of the attacking Groten and scrambled down the ship's sides as a Vipen fired in their direction. The three Groten and the silo disappeared in a blur of black and red before fire engulfed the area and incinerated what remained. The silos gone, the rest of the ships doors opened and hundreds of Groten descended onto the battlefield. The Vipens only got another couple of shots on the ship before it engaged a shield that stopped further damage to the craft. The Vipens then assisted the ground forces, carefully targeting the feral Groten.

Listening to the sounds of war, Caran and Nara fought to control their trembling hands while they made the last connections required to combine the Jumper shields. The sounds of tanks exploding and the tinkling of shattered glass as it rained down on them did nothing to quell their fear. Caran finally stood and looked over the battlefield, making her final calculations for the shield.

Teyla calmly fired her weapon at anything that headed their way and yelled, "We need that shield up, now!"

Numbers ran through Caran's mind as she took in the dimensions before her, accounting for at least a meter ahead of the tanks. She hurried to put the numbers into the tablet she'd connected to the interface, and as she was about to yell for everyone to fall back, Jumper 3 lost power.

"I CAN NOT DEAL WITH THIS!" Caran screamed at the ship. "WORK, GODDAMN YOU! FOR ONCE, PLEASE, JUST, WORK!"

Nara reached for her, but Caran batted her hand away and kicked at the ship as angry tears flowed down her face. If she failed to fix this, everyone's death would be on her head. She ran inside, rapidly inspecting the consoles. When she saw the problem, she screamed with frustration. Errant weapons fire had hit a vital power cable and killed Jumper 3. Nara ran in to help as Caran was tearing panels from the Jumper walls in search of another suitable cable she could splice into the system.

"What do you need?" she asked, her voice almost lost in the noise from outside.

"A three-core 6-guage cable!"

"Wh…what does that look like?!"

But Caran ignored her as her fingers grasped what she needed beneath the floor access panel. With a grunt, she tore the cable free, knowing it was yet another thing she would need to fix if they ever made it out alive. She hurried to splice the cable into the system, suffering burns and the occasional mild shock from the live console. Teyla yelled something and moved away from the Jumper, firing incessantly at something from the side and disappeared.
The fix worked, and Caran ran back outside. She grabbed the console as Nara screamed in terror behind her, and when she raised her head, Caran saw a Groten charging toward them. Its massive form leaped the distance between them in a few short strides, roaring and snarling with its huge teeth on clear display, promising them a swift and bloody end. Caran raised her arms over her tear-streaked face and yelled out in fear, failure and fear drenching her thoughts as she awaited her end. There came the sound of rapid weapons fire and a roar that hurt her ears. The weapons fire continued, and when she looked, Caran saw a tall figure standing between her and the charging Groten. Like some lone hero from an epic movie scene, Dusty Mehra fired everything she had at the beast, tearing its pelt open and ripping it apart as it continued to charge, not moving an inch from the incoming abomination. She roared as she fired until her P90 burned and smoked. She fired until the creature let loose a wheezing cry and crumpled to the ground at her feet in a shower of blood and cloud of dust. She continued to fire until the weapon jammed and fell silent, and only then did Dusty turn to face her.

Their eyes met, and Caran stared dumbfounded until Dusty coughed and shouted, "Come on! Get the shield up!"

)0(

Teyla had chased down and killed a Groten that had hooked up a warrior and dragged them deeper into the forest. She helped the warrior from her crushed bio-suit, pleased to see no apparent injuries.

"What is your name?" she asked the young woman.

"Cafia," she replied, shaking herself down.

"Can you still fight, Cafia?"

In reply, the woman took hold of the shoulder of her damaged bio-suit and wrenched off the mounted blaster. She test-fired it at a nearby tree, pleased to see it still worked. "Yes, I am able, Fen Emmagan.

"Then let us return," Teyla replied with a smile. "There are still many creatures attacking."

Indeed, when they exited the trees, they could see just how many Groten remained. It appeared that the ship had an unending supply of inhabitants. If there was one thing in their favour, it was that the Groten had abandoned their Goh weapons. Instead of the flying missiles, they had to fight the huge claws and teeth of the Groten, which were wielded with their immeasurable strength, great size and twisting forms. Therefore, distance was their best ally. If they got too close, they might lose their head or limbs, but by careful pacing, they could gun down their foes before they reached them.
The battle became a lethal dance, their partners wild and malevolent. Teyla and Cafia moved back to back, covering each other as they danced across the battlefield, maiming and killing their chosen dance partners. It took incredible dexterity to move as they did amongst the carnage and years of practice in expert skilled exercise. Even when Vipens rained down blasts that churned the earth around them, the two women moved gracefully and purposely between combatants. Loud explosions rocked the vicinity, the Groten ship outwardly exploding, ejecting twisted metal and bloody entrails over the battlefront. The unexpected detonations stunned everyone, human and Groten eyes honing in on the shuddering ship as a lone voice boomed in their coms.

"Get behind the tanks, now!"

It was Fimas who shouted the order. One look towards Caran showed the woman was frantically waving her arms for all to see, beckoning them back to the Jumpers. Everyone fell back as a blaring klaxon rang out from the ship, making the Groten run to it even as it rocked with another explosion. Advanced Bios fought from the ship's interior, barging past the flooding Groten and ran for the Jumpers. Caran ensured everyone was safe before hitting the tablet in her hands, hearing the Groten ship power up and its engines begin to whine. The shield shimmered to life, spreading out from a point overhead the Jumpers to fall excruciatingly slowly. The ship engines whined louder, and Caran silently urged the shield to hurry. It looked as if it wouldn't fall in time as a blue flame began to burn in the center of each engine port. As the engines droned to life, the flame grew and began to elongate outwards, forcing deadly energy at the amassed troops. People began to panic, and more than a few cried out when it seemed they would all be incinerated.

But the shield completed its arc and encompassed the area with a transparent, shimmering haze, just as the ship's engines ignited and roared to life. The sound was deafening, so near the engine ports that even the shield couldn't halt all the emanating heat. The ground rumbled and shook as the Groten ship throttled up, and they watched as the blue flame brightly flared over the shield. A piercing sound came from Caran's tablet. The shield would fail if the ship didn't move away soon. There was too much strain on the system, too much energy to hold back, and the tablet screamed that shield failure was imminent. Then the Groten ship began to move, rising slowly from the ground and moving away, lessening the load on the shield that still held firm. Cheers began to sound from the crowded mass; machine and human arms were thrown up with joy as people realised they had succeeded. The Groten ship flew slowly and inexorably higher, the whine from the engines changing to a deep rumble as thrust was increased.

In front of the Goh tanks, Fimas watched, unmoved by the crowd's enthusiasm. He clenched his fists, making the four arms of his suit do the same as crushing disappointment descended on him. He had failed in his mission. The surviving Groten would no doubt return, bringing more ships and animals to his planet, with no hope for the survival of Caronaa. The vile creatures would not stop until every one of them was destroyed, he was sure. His remaining fellow Sentrymen came to stand beside him, all despairing as the ship grew smaller, all aware of what might befall them and their planet.

But a miracle occurred as the Groten ship breached the upper atmosphere.

It appeared that the Advanced Bios had weakened the ship enough because once the atmospheric pressure crushed down on its hull, the Groten ship simply disintegrated. There were a few powerful explosions as the ship fell apart, and cheers rang out as pieces of the huge craft fell towards the Galsiton Sea. Only then did Fimas allow himself to breathe in relief, turning to his Sentrymen and clasping the shoulders of their suits while congratulating them on a job well done.

Exiting their bio-suits, the Caronaans embraced each other, laughing and cheering as the Vipens made a pass overhead in a "V" formation. The Atlanteans were more subdued, heading for the murky tanks at the shield edge. Their feet crunched on the shattered remains of broken tanks, their feet sloshing in Ignothia water and inert deceased Goh. Lorne cast a sorrowful eye over the remaining tanks, counting only twenty-four left intact. There were a few deep hollows in the ground where the insides of some tanks had leaked and pooled. They held a few struggling Goh that the team carefully put into the remaining tanks using the butts of their P90's to safely move them in case Eldus had not survived and informed the creatures that they were friends trying to save them. He saw that Teyla stood in front of one of the tanks, a hand pressed against the glass, and Lorne approached her as he wiped sweat and grime from his face.

"We lost so many," he said solemnly as he stopped beside her. "I wonder how many we saved in the end."

Teyla smiled softly as a large Goh pressed against the glass. Large and of a purplish hue, she seemed to recognise the creature.

"Is that the Eldus?" Lorne asked, regarding the plump blob with a raised eyebrow while resisting the urge to tap the glass.

"I believe it is," Teyla replied. "We saved more than we might not have done had Caran's plan failed. We should join the others in celebration."

"Seems harsh to laugh and smile when so many lay dead at our feet."

Teyla winced, her eyes flickering from Eldus to the dead scattered across the ground and the twisted remains of mangled bio-suits. "Yes, but we must celebrate life, Major. We must celebrate the fact that these Goh can return home. And we must celebrate that, despite what might become of John Sheppard, we carried through his final wish to completion."

Once the wounded were patched up and the dead recovered and loaded into Vipens heading for Central, the task remained to move the remaining tanks to the village. As everyone worked, Lorne sought out Caran to congratulate her on the success of her plan. He rounded the side of Jumper 3, wondering if the small scientist was clearing up the mess in the back, but what he found stopped him in his tracks. An unexpected sight made Lorne blow out a long whistle, a cheeky grin breaking on his face.

"Uh, you carry on, girls," he said, as Dusty uncurled an arm from behind Caran to stick the middle finger up at him. "As you were…" he chuckled as he left the two in each other's arms, enjoying their private celebration over the win.

Lorne decided it was up to Teldy to deal with that particular can of worms.

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That wasn't too evil, was it? I need cookies!

Chapter Text

Chapter 39

As the rescue teams returned to the village, Caron Beckett disembarked from a newly arrived Vipen and ran into the barn. The place was busy with Caronaan warriors clanking around in bio-suits while dropping off tanks filled with Goh. Carson hurried to the rear of the barn, looking for the stasis pod he knew had been unloaded from Jumper 3 on their return from Ignothia. His heart almost stopped when he saw it sitting in the far corner, with Rella scrubbing it down. He shouted her name repeatedly as he hurried forward, one hand raised in the air as he tried to catch her attention. The Caronaan doctor stopped what she was doing and stood with her hands on her hips.

"What is the matter with you? Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"Oh, please tell me you haven't cleaned the inside yet!" Carson panted as he halted beside the tank and looked inside.

"Well, of course I have! I can't send it back to Central with it covered with algae and germs, can I?"

Carson wiped a finger over the inside wall of the pod, seeing that there wasn't even a speck of grime left. Utterly crestfallen, he turned and sat on the edge of the pod. Rella frowned and sat beside him, tearing off her wash gloves and placing them on the ground.

"What did you hope to find?" she asked softly.

"I just… I dunno. I had an idea, but it doesn't matter now," he replied.

"Go on, tell me. You've never been shy sharing your theories before."

Carson sighed heavily and shook his head. "I just had an idea. I was in Monuth and went to visit the plague ward." Rella's eyes widened as she knew Carson rarely went there because it reminded him of his perceived failure. "And while I was there, I saw Kerria. One of the wee nurses was giving her nebulised saline. And there was something about the mask and the saline and the noise that the nebuliser made that made me think of John wearing your oxygen tank contraption."

He stopped talking, trying to find the words to explain his hope-filled epiphany. Rella sat quietly, patiently waiting for him to speak again. He watched the Goh tanks stacking up against the barn walls, the idea building traction in his mind.

"You see, there has to be something in that water. Something that the Goh live in that has the apparent healing properties Primus told us of. I thought perhaps there would be some of that water left in the stasis pod that I could test, but… Time is fast running out for Kerria and the remaining victims. I don't see them lasting for much longer. Maybe a few days more at best. And we can't go back to Ignothia without a plan because Major Teldy said Groten ships are guarding the planet. So it's not as if we can take a wee jaunt over to get more water to test on."

"And the water in those tanks would be too contaminated," Rella finished.

"Aye," Carson sighed.

After a few quiet moments, Rella stood and pulled Carson to his feet, then positioned him at the foot of he pod. She closed the pod and began wiping down the exterior.

"So I'm just wondering," she said as she rubbed hard at what appeared to be a gleaming clean panel. "When, exactly, will you remember that I'm a curious doctor and a certified scientist, just the same as yourself?"

Carson stared at her, his mouth working silently, his brow furrowed. "I know-"

"You know? You know what, Carson?" She straightened and watched him, waiting for his reply.

"I-I know you are a doctor, a damned good one, and I… hold on…" his eyes brightened, and a smile flickered across his lips as he saw Rella grin. "Oh, you didn't, did you…?"

Rella reached down behind the pod to retrieve a small, sealed container and handed it to Carson. "I wouldn't be much of a scientist if I hadn't taken a sample of the water left inside the pod, now, would I?"

Carson grabbed the container. Laughing, he held it up in the air and delightfully exclaimed, "Oh, I could kiss you, Rella Harmen!"

"You could..." she giggled, a glint in her eye.

Carson put the container on top of the pod, reached for her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her softly and said, "Aye, I bloody well can."

Rella giggled and kissed him back before she gently pushed him away. "Off with you now, go, get that water tested. I'll finish up here and join you shortly."

)0(

The laboratory in Monuth hospital was located in the underground level of the building. The lead scientist, Dossa, allowed Carson to conduct tests on the Ignothian water, providing him with everything he needed, then left him to his own devices. Carson painstakingly made up slides from the water, and for almost an hour, he'd been staring into the microscope at them. Eventually, he sat back on his stool and wiped his tired eyes. He'd found nothing or little of note in the water. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but he'd been sure he would have seen something in the water, anything that might explain the healing properties reported by Primus. Sitting to his right were slides he'd already viewed, the pile more than three times bigger than the pile to his left that he still had to look at. But considering how many he'd seen, it was probable that the others would hold no miracle.

Dossa entered with a tray of clean test tubes and set about putting them away. He glanced at Carson, frowning when he saw him sitting there, staring into space.

"Is something wrong, Fer Beckett?"

"Ach, I just didn't find what I hoped to find."

"Did you try the TC-9 contrast?" Dossa asked, approaching the microscope and peering in.

"Aye, TC-9, TC-10, right through to TC-20."

"What about the RF range? Did you try those?"

"Why would I use the RF range?"

"They work on a different wavelength; might bring out something under the shade-2 light."

"Right, of course. Okay, I'll try that. Thanks." Carson said as Dossa left the lab.

Carson knew the lab well, having spent weeks there during the initial plague outbreak, and he quickly located the RF contrast medium and took a vial of each in the range. He set the tray on the counter and began making more slides from the Ingnothia water. This time, he only made a few after spending so much time on the ones that taught him nothing. Returning to the microscope with the new slides, he changed the light source to shade-2. When he peeked through the lens, he instantly saw these slides were different from the previous. The water appeared similar to the others, but the contrast medium revealed tiny dots that glimmered bright green in the new light. Increasing the magnification, Carson was surprised to find that the dots were highly specialized constructs, intricately patterned and used many hair-like structures to move around the water. He watched one, fascinated when it moved to and protruded a part of itself onto a small broken structure in the water. It engulfed the structure, continuing forward until it slipped from its caught prey. Only now the broken structure was in one piece, completely whole. He hastily removed the slide from the plate and put on another. Again, hundreds of tiny green dots moved in the water, all following similar processes as the first. Carson knew he had finally found the answer he had searched many months for and felt elated.

"Bloody hell! Nanites! They're like tiny, biological nanites!" He said to himself.

But his smile faded when he realised that, although he had found an answer, it couldn't help him. It would take weeks to cultivate the tiny creatures and even longer to find a way to use them safely as a medicinal aid. What the plague victims needed right now was to be taken to Ignothia and placed in the waters with John, which he knew was impossible at that present time. Carson stared at the microscope, the familiar feeling of failure washing over him again. He opened the container with the remaining Ignothia water and peered inside. There wasn't anywhere near enough left to attempt to treat all the plague victims, but he thought he could use it to at least try to treat one. It was unlikely to heal the person, but it might keep them alive until a better plan was put in place. It might also prove his hypothesis and spur the Caronaan minister into action, which could prompt him to help the Atlanteans and Goh with the problem on Ignothia. Something he had been reluctant to commit to so far.

Carson put the remaining water through several stages of filtration and distillation until he had enough fluid to put into a nebuliser. He'd already begun to call the little miracle creatures bionites, and the vial he held as he ran through the hospital held hundreds. The corridor he ran through seemed to go on for miles, and Carson was sure his legs would be shorter by the time he ran the length of it. When the plague victim ward finally came into view, he was out of breath. He pushed through the doors and went in search of Janse. He checked the staff room for her, the waiting area, and even called her name through the door to the female toilets, but he couldn't find her. Only one other person was moving about the ward that he could see, and they appeared to be a grieving relative, the presence of whom made Carson hurry into the main ward area. He found that the staff were congregated in the far bay, from which muffled crying could be heard. Carson knew then that time had undeniably run out for the remaining victims. He felt ashamed that he was glad it was someone other than Kerria who had passed as he quietly approached her bedside and waited for the staff to leave the bay of the deceased patient.

Janse was the third to leave, her eyes red and puffy. She wiped her face and managed a faint smile when she saw him. "Fer Beckett, I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Unfortunately, we lost another."

Carson shuffled awkwardly as a fresh tear trickled down her cheek. "Aye, I thought as much. I'm so sorry."

Janse wiped the tear away and nodded. "We knew the day would come. But it's still a shock when it happens."

"What if I could stop it happening to another?" Carson blurted out.

"What do you mean?"

"I might have discovered something that could help." he handed her the vial.

Janse inspected the small glass container, unsure of what to make of it. "They are all already on nebulised medicines, they do very little to help."

"I'll explain everything, but first, let's set this running for her."

Janse looked uncertain but fetched the nebuliser chamber anyway. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I, lass," Carson replied, watching her attach the chamber to Kerria's mask. "So do I."

)0(

Carson sat quietly by Kerria's bed, staring at the floor when Rella entered the bay. He acknowledged her arrival with a brief glance, then lowered his gaze once more. Kerria remained the same, silent and comatose, the mask still covering her face helping her to breathe. She looked like she was about to expire at any moment. Rella said nothing but stood beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. With a heavy sigh, Carson reached up and covered her hand.

"I was so sure it would work," he whispered, now staring at Kerria. "I was sure I was right."

"Tell me what you discovered," Rella asked gently.

"At first, nothing. Just water with the same presentation as any other water, diatoms and the usual. Then, Dossa prompted me to use an RF medium and the water lit up like a Christmas tree. Hundreds of little multi-celled creatures, highly specialised and so, so small. They looked like the answer. They looked like the miracle we've been searching for."

"Maybe Kerria is just too ill. Maybe there's just too much damage to repair."

"Yeah, and maybe the wee creatures I found have nothing to do with the healing waters, and I jumped to the wrong conclusion."

"I doubt that. I think it's more likely that the victims are just beyond our help now."

Carson nodded and stood, patted Kerria's hand while quietly apologising for being unable to save her.

"You did everything you could do, Carson," Rella said sadly. "More than what anyone could ever do."

She pulled him into a warm embrace, and Carson leaned heavily on her, deflating with sadness. "It doesn't make it any easier," he replied, pulling away and moving from the bed.

He walked away, wishing to be alone. He made his way through the ward towards the exit, refusing to raise his eyes to anyone he passed. He even ignored Janse when she asked if he was okay, afraid that attempting to speak might invite derision from his mouth.

Then, he heard Rella calling. "Carson?" she shouted. "Carson, quick!"

She sounded agitated, and on hearing the strange tone in her voice, Carson ran back the way he came and stumbled into Kerria's bay. Her breathing had changed. She was struggling to breathe despite the mask, and for a moment, he thought her life was finally coming to an end. But something about the way she breathed troubled him, and he didn't believe it had anything to do with dying. Carson swiftly sprang to the other side of the bed, switched off the breathing equipment and then gently removed the mask and internal tube from Kerria's face.

"What are you doing?!" Rella cried, fearing he was making the woman's death more traumatic than it already was.

Carson ignored her and swiftly exchanged the breathing mask for one on the trolley by the bed. He took the mask and plugged its tubing into an oxygen outlet on the rear of the bed, then placed the mask on Kerria's face. He watched intently, willing the woman to show him he was right, that the bionites would work on her, possibly on everyone. Rella asked him to put the breathing mask back on, becoming increasingly frantic the longer he refused. Her raised voice caught the attention of the nurses outside, and Janse ran in and stared in shock, utterly horrified as Kerria choked in silence.

"Carson, for the Great Being's sake! She's suffocating!" Rella yelled, reaching for the breathing apparatus.

He held onto it firmly, silently praying he was doing the right thing by allowing Kerria to suffer temporarily.

"Fer Beckett! Do something!" Janse said urgently as she lowered the back of the bed and started pulling out pillows to open Kerria's airway.

Carson raised his hand and held it with his index finger pointing to the ceiling. "Steady, now…" he said in a quiet, reassuring way that had both women fall silent. "Just wait…"

Seconds dragged on, and nothing happened. Kerria's face was flushed a vibrant red, the first genuine colour in it for many months. Then she suddenly arched up in the bed, her hands pulled into fists as her arms levered her body. She trembled in the contortion, making the bed quietly rattle before she fell back, inert. Then she heaved in a breath on her own. Then another. And another. Carson smiled as Kerria took one more heaving breath before falling into a natural rhythm of easy breathing. Rella and Janse stared in disbelief, watching each breath come with eager anticipation.

"Great Being!" Rella exclaimed breathlessly. "You did it, Carson! You actually did it!"

Carson beamed proudly at her, the significance of his discovery only then beginning to sink in. "It has fixed her lungs, at least. If anything, I've bought her more time. There's nothing to say it will continue to heal her. The sample just wasn't big enough, so I'm not sure there are enough bionites to do a full system healing."

"Bionites?" Rella asked.

Carson reddened and flustered. "That's what I've been calling the wee things in the water."

Rella laughed. "Only you could give such a name to such an important discovery."

"Rella, I need to speak to your father."

"Why?"

"Because if minister Harmen knows I can treat the remaining victims, he might afford us what we need to go back to Ignothia."

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. Cookieeeeeees!

Chapter Text

Chapter 40

The dolshee was a colossal fish, not unlike the great white shark of Earth. It had two long flippers, a rigid, sleek tail, and a huge head full of razor sharp teeth. The moment it struck John with one of its flippers, Primus knew the man was in trouble. The dolshee had rolled in the water and twisted violently, causing its flippers to spring outwards, one of which slammed John into the rocky wall. His head made a distinct twack under the water, then he gradually sank into the dark. Primus raced after him as he descended through the water, his agonising contortion indicating only one thing: the man was drowning

Managing to evade being similarly struck, Primus swam speedily into the side of the dolshee, biting into its flesh and gorging on its meat before pulling away. It would need the energy the meat provided for its plan to save the human. It then torpedoed after John, who continued to fall into the depths. When it leveled with the man, Primus saw his head had fallen backwards, his mouth was open, and his half-open eyes stared ahead at nothing, glazed and unseeing. Without hesitation, Primus swam quickly to Sheppard's back and tore through the skin of his shoulder, burrowing deeply until he aligned with his spine below the skull. He connected to Sheppard's system and experienced the shutting down of the human's mind, though it was clear that John still sensed enough to be aware he was dying.

As the Goh surrounded the dolshee and unleashed their electrical bombardment, Primus charged a massive surge of the same energy through John, forcing his body to convulsively expel the water in his lungs. Immediately after, Primus forced John's body to shut down, preventing it from taking another reflexive breath as it simultaneously charged the man's muscles to get his limbs moving. As they slowly ascended, Primus was horrified to sense the final thud of the human's heart and despaired. It knew that John wouldn't survive if they didn't get him to their destination soon and try to revive him.

Above them, the dolshee emitted deafening shrieks as it writhed in pain from the Goh attack, whipping into a frenzy as the electrical current coursed through its body. In the seconds it took the Goh to recharge, the dolshee regained its senses and hit out with its flippers and tail while gnashing at the little creatures in an attempt to flee to safety. But the Goh electrocuted the beast again, mercilessly shocking it until its huge body shuddered. Its spine arched painfully and stayed that way as life left its body. As John had before, now the dolshee slowly sank through the water, lifeless and no longer a threat. Through Sheppard's eyes, Primus watched as the beast passed his line of sight, down into the deep darkness.

Their task complete, the other Goh returned to Sheppard's body and buried their teeth into his flesh and restarted the final stretch of the journey. When Sheppard's imminent demise became clear to all, the Goh's tiny flippers moved so fast as to blur as they cut through the water. They put all their strength and everything they had into moving John safely through the final expanse of water. Ahead, the light source grew brighter as they hurtled towards it, and Primus hoped that John would live to see it.

They entered the bright area into a pool of water warmer than any they had been in before. Above, they could see an opening in the tunnel system, the sun in the Ignothian sky beating down rays of warmth and light. They hurried upwards, dragging Sheppard's lifeless body towards the sun and his hopeful resurrection. With a thrust of speed, they breached the water together, far enough into the air for Primus to see a ledge to their right. Dropping back into the water, Primus instructed the Goh to get Sheppard onto the ledge. With one last, almighty burst of speed and strength, the entire soaking mass of human and Goh cleared the water and landed with a sloshing slap upon the ledge. The exhausted adult Goh rolled and wriggled their way back to the water and floated there, bobbing up and down as they watched Sheppard's motionless form for any signs of life.

John Sheppard lay on his side, his left arm dropped across his front, the other pinned beneath him. His hair was clamped to his head, red rivulets of water draining from it, mingled with the blood from his recently injured head. Somehow, his trousers remained intact, but his upper torso was bare and showed every scrape, scratch and injury he had sustained on his journey. This included the many raised rings of the Goh's teeth, a lurid red against his pallid skin.

Primus registered John's temperature steadily dropping because his circulatory system was no longer pumping heat around his body. There was little more than fading and confused white noise in the human's mind, brain activity ceasing. Primus charged itself, hoping against hope to restart John's heart and bring him back to life. Sensing how close to death John was, Primus panicked and almost released its energy too soon. It managed to hold on long enough to send a powerful jolt through John's body. There was no return from its output; the heart didn't thump back to life, and the mind continued to fade towards oblivion. Primus charged again, sending John's body into a tight spasm that ended with him thrashing against the ledge as every muscle in his body quivered and trembled with the jolt. Nothing seemed to work, and Primus found itself in a diminishing spiral of repeated charging and discharging, exhausting its energy and hope.

On its final attempt, Primus sensed John's heart pound back to life with an almighty thump. It fell into a worrying irregular thudding as the muscle attempted to regain a normal rhythm. Primus thought to charge again, but the heart normalised into a rapid beat that made Primus glad. With his body rebooting, John took his first gasping breath, letting out a cry that told of the agony his body experienced with the impromptu defibrillation. John's cry gave way to a sob that wracked his body, and he rolled onto his back with a loud moan to stare up at the sky. Primus sensed a flicker in John's mind and honed in on the scrambled thoughts that loudly burst forth, none of which made much sense. They were in complete disarray, neurons firing back to life and reconnecting his mind to his body.

John lay there for a long time just gazing up at the sky, trying to piece together what had happened to him. But his thoughts wouldn't coalesce into something meaningful, so he simply existed under the warm sun and was at peace. After some time, things started to come back to him. Air pockets hidden sporadically within endless, dark and suffocating tunnels. Skin that burned with pinpricks of tiny teeth. He remembered the welcoming light at the end of the tunnel and the shadow which blotted it out and attacked them. He remembered the shark-like monstrosity that had smashed him senseless and drowned him. Then he remembered the intense pain in his shoulder in the seconds before he died. John raised his trembling hand to his shoulder, covering the throbbing pain with his fingers. He tried to speak, but his throat only gave up a dry whisper. He coughed and cleared his throat, trying again, and this time when he spoke, his voice was hoarse and quiet.

"Primus, are you there?"

I am, Sheppard.

"You just had to get back inside, didn't you?"

There was no other choice.

You were dying.

John chuckled. Hearing a noise, he turned his head to face the water and saw the other Goh still floating near the ledge, watching. "Thank you," he whispered, then more forcefully, "Thank you all."

They are glad you are alive, Sheppard, as am I. Primus said as the other Goh dropped below the waterline and disappeared.

"So, what happens now?"

Once you have gathered your strength, you should go back into the water to heal.

John yawned and turned onto his side to peer into the water. "There's a small rock jutting out. I could use it to sit on. Most of my body would be under the water."

Yes, that would be a good idea.

But for now, Sheppard, you must sleep and rest.

"Well, I can't sleep and tread water, Primus. Surefire way of drowning, and I've had enough of that to last a lifetime."

Then allow me to remain in your body. I can assist in coordinating your limbs to sit securely while you slumber.

John eyed the water warily, not wishing to enter it again. Everything that had happened to him since leaving Atlantis was because of water and what was in it. The thought of sitting in it again for an indeterminate measure of time wasn't appealing in the slightest. Then again, water and things in it had saved his life more than once since leaving Atlantis. With this thought in mind, John rolled to the edge of the ledge, then slipped into the water. When he located the little outcropping beneath the waterline, he settled on it and rested back onto the rocky wall with a sigh. The small amount of movement drained his dwindling strength, and the gentle swaying of the water threatened to dislodge him just before Primus took control of his movements.

Relax, Sheppard. Sleep.

I will keep you safe.

But John didn't even reply. He was already fast asleep.

)0(

When John next awoke, he felt immeasurably better than he had in a long time. He still sat on the underwater outcropping with his body taut and held firm in the control of Primus. The water had risen while he slept and sat just below his chin, his fingers anchored rigidly to the outcropping to keep him safely in place. It appeared that Primus, too, was resting as it didn't seem to notice that John was awake. He couldn't move even to twitch, so he sat there and took stock of his many pains. He found that most of his body felt warm and relatively pain free, but how much of that would change when he finally started to move, he wasn't sure.

A shadow passed overhead, prompting John to raise his eyes. Without being able to move his head, he could only see a small slither of the sky and saw that it was darker than it had been before. It appeared that either hours had passed since he fell asleep, and it was evening, or it was dawn and he had slept an entire day and night. Another shadow passed, this time plunging the haven into momentary darkness. A heavy thrumming sound accompanied it, increasing in intensity as it passed overhead, then fading as the dim light flooded back.

The Groten, Primus informed him.

"They're still here, huh?"

They never leave, Sheppard.

They have been here since I was an infant.

A spark of anger ignited within John. "We'll need to see what we can do about them," he said darkly.

Firstly, Primus replied. We need to see what you can do for yourself.

Primus slowly slackened its hold over John's system, and at first, he floundered in the water until he regained his balance and control of his own body. He sat a moment, surprised to discover that there really wasn't as much pain as he thought there might be. The only pain he felt keenly was the hole in his shoulder, but he could handle it now that every other pain had diminished to the background.

The warmth of the healing water lapped at his skin, which, he noted, was no longer pale and waxen. It glowed with health, and his injuries were markedly better. The little bite-mark rings had decreased in size and colour, fading away to almost nothing. He took a moment to look over his body, remembering the grievous injury that had originally incapacitated him. The Goh entry wounds on his chest were healed, the two holes still visible, but barely. They were now a silver marring on his chest, and he assumed that the tissue and bone beneath were similarly healed. He still looked painfully thin, and it occurred to him that he had no idea when he last ate.

"Is it morning or evening?" he asked, looking at the dimly lit sky.

It is early morning.

You slept a long time.

"How long?"

It has been almost two days since we got you here.

But you seem stronger.

"I feel stronger. Better. I won't be running a marathon anytime soon, but I can see a future now."

You didn't before?

John shrugged, "Can't say I did."

He stretched his arms, testing them as he raised them above his head. There was some stiffness from disuse, but nothing he couldn't work with. His legs followed, paddling them for a few moments, getting used to the movements and wondering if they could hold him up if he were to stand.

John Sheppard wasn't the kind of man to lay around doing nothing, and he'd had his fill of that already. Even when grievously wounded in the past, he didn't sit around, often pushing through injury to join a battle or save someone. Today would be no different. Primus tried to talk him out of it, saying it would be better if he stayed a little longer in the water, but John had had enough of being wet.

"Don't you want to see a different side of your planet?"

I don't understand.

"Well, you see what I see. How about we do a little exercise and head up to land? See what this planet is like topside."

I don't think we should.

What if something happens to you?

We would both be in peril with no hope of rescue.

"Come on, Primus," John said as he pulled himself from the water onto the ledge. "Live a little, huh?"

It appears I have little choice.

"Well, you can straightjacket my ass with your powers if you think I'm taking it too far. Agreed?"

Agreed.

I've never seen Ignothia from above the water.

With the decision made, John pulled himself from the water and onto his feet. He shook out his arms and legs, gauging how much strength they had and if they would hold up to a little exercise. He'd been down and ill for so long that there wasn't much that would stop him from climbing out of the pool into the land above. He was pleased and impressed when his legs held him steady, and was already studying the rocky walls surrounding them. He could see footholds here and there, mostly over wide areas, which would have been a cakewalk for him if he was at full health. He sought better holds, ones that led a less strenuous path to outside. He found it to the far left of the ledge, an easy way up on a gentler slope with plenty of spaces for his hands and booted feet. It was slow going at first. He didn't want to risk injury or to push himself faster than his still-frail body could manage, which annoyed him greatly. Since when did he, John Sheppard, military man, adrenaline junkie, shy away from pushing himself to his limits?

Since you almost died several times in quick succession, Primus reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," John growled as he pulled on a slanted gap in the stone. "Doesn't mean I can't do it."

Yes, but at least acknowledge the ordeal you have been through.

"To do that would be to admit fear." He raised his foot to the next rock.

"And right now? We don't need fear. I don't need fear." He pulled up and reached for a small ledge above his head.

"I've been scared since this all started." His foot found a hole, and he pushed into it and up onto his toes.

"Since you first hit me. Since I left Atlantis." His left hand lost grip, but his legs held him firm.

"I've been scared to death, but I'm alive, Primus. We are alive." His hands scraped the edge of the opening as he brought his leg up to the next foothold.

"This isn't strenuous exercise we're doing, this is a celebration of life."

John pulled himself from the opening to the pool and out onto a landscape like none he'd seen before. He took a few wandering steps forward into long, forest-green grass that felt like cotton and smelled of roses. Shrouded purple mountains stood in the distance, waiting for the sun to burn off the mist that cloaked them. A jungle of towering fuzzy-topped trees, many meters high with yellow mottled bark, lay ahead and seemed to go on for miles. Plants of all shapes, sizes and colours spread upon the land, and strange animals grazed on them, unaware of the alien who watched them.

John fell to his knees and raised his face to the slight warmth of the rising sun. He felt its healing rays as he breathed a sweet breath of air and closed his eyes. A gentle breeze toyed with his hair, carrying all kinds of scents he couldn't identify. He heard the sound of running water, the strange animal calls, and the song of an avian never heard by human ears before.

It's beautiful. Primus said with an awe that matched John's.

"It sure is," John agreed, and they sat in quiet, private thought, content to enjoy the beautiful moment.

Their reverie was cut short when an annoying thrumming sound filled the air. This time, John saw the huge craft as it passed over them. The red pitted metal of its immense hull glinted in the new sunlight, the spiderweb between the plates twinking with blue flashes that spread through it like lightning. Its silo turrets were silent, but still looked ready and armed for the press of a button. The engine ports flamed blue as it moved inexorably onward, leaving behind a smoky trail like a festering wound in the blue sky.

John heard distant thrumming sounds and saw other ships moving across the horizon to the left. He didn't know how many were on the planet, but John estimated they would be nearly impossible to destroy with a handful of Jumpers. And what cemented in John's head as he watched the blight upon the sky dissipate was that he wanted to annihilate these beasts and protect Ignothia and all its inhabitants.

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feed the fat dragon cookies!

Chapter Text

Chapter 41

Ronon woke in a world of pristine white walls with bright overhead lights and the smell of disinfectant. It felt as if he'd been lying in the same position for days, which he deemed likely, given that he observed the familiar sensations of heavy sedation. He squinched his eyes against the brightness and looked at his surroundings. According to the sign on the wall, he lay in a medical bay on the twelfth corridor. It could have been the seventieth corridor for all he cared because he had a splitting headache and a thirst that seemed to dry through to his bones. He looked down to see cables on his chest and tubes in his arm and groaned with frustration. He hated lying around hooked up to things. The machines scared him. He'd watched too many people hooked to them that never made it and feared one day he would hear the screaming sound of death from one attached to himself. He considered tearing off the cables but knew from experience that it made medics mad as they had to put them all back on again until they were happy with the readouts, no matter how many times he pulled them off. He sat himself up and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. Medical staff milled around the ward, and he caught the attention of a nurse and asked for something to drink. The badge pinned to her top informed him that her name was Dova, and she brought him a fresh jug of water.

"You look stronger today, Fer Dex, " she said, pouring him a cup.

"I feel it. Maybe I can get these off," he replied hopefully, gesturing to the cables and tubes, then took a sip of water.

"That's not up to me, I'm afraid. But, the doctor will be round soon, and you can ask her."

The nurse went to leave, until Ronon caught her arm and asked quietly, "How is my friend, umm, Fer McKay?"

Dova's brow creased, and she looked behind her to ensure no one was listening. "I'm not allowed to discuss other patients, Fer Dex, but your friend is… well, rest assured he's getting the best possible care."

"Can I see him?"

"I'm-I-"

"I just need to make sure he's okay."

"But he-"

"Look, I can tear all this off and look for him myself, or you can help me."

The nurse scowled, huffed, then hurriedly left the bay.

"Myself it is," Ronon growled and grabbed the lines in his arm, about to pull them out and remove the leads from his chest.

"Fer Dex!" The little nurse scolded him from the doorway, holding a folder. "At least give me a minute to get things in order. Then, I'll take you to see Fer McKay."

Suitably chastised, Ronon let go of the lines and laid back in the bed to wait. When Dova returned, she pushed a wheelchair to the side of the bed, making Ronon roll his eyes.

"I can walk."

"I'm sure you can, but you won't if I have any say in this little day trip. I've heard about your stubbornness but never imagined you'd harm yourself to get your way."

"Pulling out a line is hardly harming myself," he retorted.

"No? Denying yourself the medicine that has kept you alive thus far can be seen as a form of self-harm, Fer Dex."

Ronon rolled his eyes again as the nurse set to removing the cables from his chest, then transferred the bags of antibiotics to a stand attached to the wheelchair. She fretted as he moved from the bed to the chair, occasionally reaching for him until he glared at her. He sat down and waited for her to ensure everything was in place before she released the brakes and pushed him out of the bay.
Dova informed him that Rodney had been moved to the first corridor following his surgery. If he took another turn for the worse, the ward was the closest to the theatres. This meant that she had to push Ronon through much of the hospital. He despised the looks people gave him as they passed, pity in their eyes and weak smiles.

"How long was I out?" he asked Dova to take his mind off his social discomfort.

"Not that long. Around thirty hours."

"That's long," he replied.

"Not really. You have a systemic infection. That you are already out of bed is quite a surprise."

"I'm not one to lie around."

"I noticed," the nurse replied dryly.

They wandered through corridor after corridor, and Ronon was surprised to realise he was tiring even though he wasn't walking or exerting himself. His arm throbbed, making him wrap his hand around the thick splint that supported his shattered bone. Dova noticed and leaned over in time to see him grimace, so she pulled the chair to a stop. Ronon was about to complain when she took a small object from her pocket.

"I thought you might need this before we got back. I passed it with the doctor, and you can get two shots if you need them."

She pushed the injection actuator to his neck and pressed a small button that released a metered dose of painkiller into his bloodstream. Ronon felt instant relief, the pain fading as the nurse started them moving again. He mumbled a thanks as they turned a corner onto the first corridor. They passed the theatre suites, the main door, and the waiting area before the nurse finally stopped at a door and pressed a button on the wall.

"Intensive Ward, how can I help you today?" said the voice from the intercom.

"Hello, Fen Kasla, it's me, Fen Dova. I have a man here who wishes to see his friend."

"Let me guess, one of the Atlanteans?"

Ronon was about to correct them but stopped himself. He was an Atlantean. They were his only family now. Atlantis, his only home. He may have been born on Sateda, but that didn't mean he couldn't also identify as something else.

"Yes, it is," he said in gruff reply.

A quiet, exasperated groan came from the intercom a second before the door buzzed open. The ward was eerily silent, so when the doctor who answered the intercom spoke, her voice appeared to reverberate off the walls.

"You are the second in to see him today. I'll tell you the same as I told Fer Beckett on his third visit; Fer McKay isn't well enough for visitors," Kasla said, folding her arms across her chest and squaring her jaw.

"He doesn't need to perform tricks for us," Ronon muttered. "He just needs to know we're here for him."

"He won't know anything, Fernin. He's in a medically induced coma."

Ronon flinched at the words so obviously that the colour drained from the doctor's face.

"I apologise. I shouldn't have said that in such a way." Kasla ushered the nurse to the side and took control of the wheelchair.

"If you are who I think you are, Fer Dex, then you will understand how serious Fer McKay's condition is. He has the same infection that you have. It was unusual enough to trigger a warning in the lab of a new strain of bacteria. But, as we have discovered, it comes from the Danu, or what you call Groten. The organism thrives in the root of their claws and proves extremely difficult to treat. You and Fer McKay were infected through your battles with the Danu; just a scratch would be enough. But then…" the doctor stopped in the doorway of a bay and Ronon breathed in sharply at the sight. "...Fer McKay had more than just a scratch."

Rodney lay in a bed much like the one Ronon had been in, but this one was like something from one of the so-called science fiction movies that Sheppard was so fond of. It looked comfortable enough, but attached were machines and monitors that snaked cables and tubes under the thick sheet covering the lower half of Rodney's body. He wore a mask that covered his mouth and nose, secured with a thick strap around his head. It had a ribbed flexible hose attached to a machine which whooshed in time to Rodney's breathing.

"We didn't have treatment for your infections," Kesla said. "The lab had to develop it quickly from a culture from your chest wound. That's why you are on the twelfth corridor and not here. Unfortunately, Fer McKay was already terribly weakened by traumatic blood loss, and with the surgery and the extended period from the initial injury, his system couldn't maintain itself. So, for now, we maintain it for him."

Kesla stopped the wheelchair at the side of Rodney's bed, put on the brakes, then quietly left Ronon to stare with horror at the sight of his friend. He tried to ignore the medical machines; they just made him feel uneasy, and he was already unsettled purely by the sight of Rodney. It was as if his friend wasn't there at all. His chest and stomach were bound in thick bandages. His left arm was splinted much like his own, and a large dressing on his shoulder completed the ensemble. His skin was pale and mottled with black and purple bruises. Scratches and stitched lacerations crossed his skin in various places. His left hand was swollen, and his right eye was black. He truly looked like he had been in a battle, and Ronon silently cursed himself for not being there when Rodney needed him. Repositioning himself in the wheelchair, Ronon reached to cover Rodney's forearm with his hand. He was surprised to feel that Rodney's skin was cold to the touch, yet Ronon had expected it to be hot because his skin was hot, especially around the wounds on his chest.

Nurse Dova quietly slipped into the bay and stood by the end of the bed.

"He's cold," Ronon commented. "Why is he cold?"

"Everyone reacts differently to illness."

"He's always the one to get sick during a mission. Always complaining he is ill."

"That may be why it has affected him this way." Dova lifted a folder from a table and flicked through the pages. "His readings are stable. On the last check, they were better than they've been."

"So he's getting better?"

Dova put the folder back down and bit at her lip. "He's better than he was," was all she would admit. "We should get you back to your bay."

"I'm going nowhere."

"You need your rest as much as he needs his. And I have strict instructions to get you back within the hour."

"I said I'm going nowhere," Ronon scowled.

"It's fine, Fen Dova. I will look after him."

Ronon shifted uncomfortably as a graceful woman stepped into the bay.

"After all, I've been looking after this moody man for many years," Teyla said, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, Fennin," Dova smiled and took her leave as Teyla sat on the edge of Rodney's bed.

"You should be kinder to them," Teyla reprimanded "They saved your life."

"Yeah, well, I hate being told what to do. I bet that doc was thrilled to see another of us."

"Dr Kesla is simply under pressure, moreso as we are not Caronaan. She believes she has a responsibility to ensure that we visitors get back to Atlantis in one piece or it would somehow shame her."

"Caronaan pride."

"Yes, much like Satedan pride."

Ronon smirked and shrugged off the remark.

"I should have been there," he whispered bitterly.

"It would not have helped him."

"I could have stopped…" his hand gesture encompassed Rodney's entire bed. "This."

"Then let me tell you what I saw that day. I didn't see a man who needed help, nor someone who was afraid to be there. I saw a man step up and fight for good, and he didn't stop until he was stopped. You would have been proud of him, Ronon."

"I am proud of him," Ronon said quietly.

Teyla raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. "You are?"

"Of course I am. He didn't get into this state by running away."

"No, he truly didn't. I think he would have taken them all on had one not managed to tear him from the biosuit."

Ronon winced at that, imagining the man before him jammed up inside a tin can while a wild beast tore at his body. He knew how hostile and powerful the Groten were, having found out for himself back in the insect-infested forest.

Teyla smoothed the sheet covering Rodney's legs. "You know, as he lay in the battlefield after he was cut down, he asked me if he made a difference. He was in a lot of pain, but he wanted to do more. Now, if that's not a man of strength, I don't know what is."

They fell into an easy silence, watching for any change in Rodney. The nurses and doctors came in often and attended to both men, changing empty bags of medicine for new ones and ensuring their comfort. No one requested Ronon to return to his ward again, though nurse Dova often popped her head into the bay to ask how he was faring. Teyla stepped out to ask the medics questions and left Ronon in the quiet room alone. After a while, he grew sleepy, so he leaned his arm on the bed and rested his head on it, his other hand still on Rodney's arm. It didn't take long for the quiet rhythmic noise from the machines to lull him into an uneasy sleep.

He dreamed of monsters, fallen comrades, war, and flesh-eating bugs. His nightmare evolved several times, making him twitch and shudder in his slumber. In one, he watched his late fiancée, Melena, being attacked and killed by Groten, torn to shreds before his eyes. In another, he watched John Sheppard being consumed right down to his bare bones, eaten by tiny, squishy blobs. He saw his Atlantean family hunted into the Caronaan forest to be picked off by insects and Groten, and as one grabbed and pulled his hand, Ronon woke with a start.

The nightmares had been so real, so much so that he still felt his hand being pulled. It took him some time to understand that his hand was being pulled by the man in the bed on which he lay his head. Raising his head, he looked at Rodney, but he was still unconscious, still silent. Believing that he had imagined it, Ronon sat back in the wheelchair. As he removed his hand, Rodney's arm moved. Ronon straightened and watched closely, thinking his eyes were playing tricks, but Rodney's arm moved again, and his fingers twitched, scratching at the bed sheet. Ronon knew enough to understand this shouldn't be happening to someone in an induced coma, and so he started shouting for help.

The brakes to his wheelchair were released, and he was wheeled from the bay as medical staff rushed in. The last he saw was the bed being flattened and the door to the bay closed. Ronon stared at the closed door, imagining all kinds of scenarios happening behind it, his recent nightmares fuelling his anxiety.

Rodney was having a seizure.

Rodney was dying.

Rodney was already dead.

Rodney was leaving him. Just like everyone he cared about.

Ronon gripped the arms of the wheelchair, flashes of memories with the faces of everyone who had left him blazing through his mind. Sheppard's and McKay's faces were in there, too, gaunt, pale, and lifeless. Something was happening in his chest. It burned, and he thought it was his wounds, but it wasn't. It was pressure, squeezing the air from his lungs, and fire flaming in his ribcage. His breathing and heart rate increased until he couldn't think or breathe. His eyes darted about the corridor, unsure of why he suddenly felt terrified and under threat. Nothing attacked him, and no one tried to ambush him, but he felt at risk all the same. Dova tried to calm him with words of understanding and empathy, but Ronon couldn't hear them. All he could hear was the thudding of his heart loud in his ears, and all he could feel was the tightness in his chest and constricted throat.

He saw Teyla turning the corner at the far end of the corridor, a disposable cup in each hand. He shouted her name, and when she looked at him, their eyes connected, hers widening with apprehension as she dropped the cups, spilling hot beverage on the gleaming floor. He could see she thought the worst; it was in her features, in the taught line of her brow and tightness in her jaw, mirroring the panic that was surely plastered over his own face. That's when he understood what was happening to him.

Panic. He was panicking because he thought he was losing another loved one and he couldn't bear it.

The sound of Teyla's footfalls drew close, and she stopped abruptly beside him. She reached for him, and he took her hand in his and held it firmly. Time stood still as they waited impatiently for news coming from behind the closed door. Nurses frequently left the bay and returned, but said nothing to them, ensuring the door closed tight whenever they passed through it. Items were taken to and removed from the bay, anything from bandages to bedding. At one point, a young man ran in with a bag of fluid, only to run back out moments later to fetch another. There was an air of urgency from all who passed them, which seemed to confirm that something catastrophic had happened to Rodney. Even Teyla's unbreakable serenity was rattled; Ronon could feel it in her trembling hand. Eventually, the door opened, and the medical staff exited, Kesla being the last to step through. Her brow was furrowed, her mouth tight as she stopped before them.

"I'm afraid he's burning through sedative rapidly, even faster than you, Fer Dex. It may be down to physiological variences due to our differing genetics, but the sedative doesn't work on you like it does on us Caronaans."

Crestfallen, Ronon and Teyla simply nodded and waited for the bad news to come.

"Of course, he assures me this isn't a problem."

"He is awake?!" Teyla asked in astonishment.

Kesla chuckled, stood aside, and held her arm out for them to enter the room.

Rodney's bed looked different this time, less frightening. Most of the monitors were dark and swivelled down the side of the bed. Around half the cables had been disconnected and wrapped around hooks beneath the bed. The ventilator was disconnected, and the mask on Rodney's face had been swapped for a much smaller one that delivered a steady stream of oxygen.

"He's still very weak. I don't think he'll be awake for long." Kelsa said and left them.

Rodney's eyes were closed as Ronon and Teyla took position on either side of the bed. He still looked frail, but there was a difference, like a presence to him that before had been absent. When Ronon applied the breaks on his wheelchair, the sound made Rodney's eyes flutter open. They rolled a little before focusing, and he swallowed thickly when he finally saw them.

"Hey," he said, his voice little more than a breathless whisper.

"Rodney, it's good to see you awake," Teyla said as she took his hand. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was… hit by… a Jumper…"

"Might as well have been," Ronon said, leaning back in his chair.

"Nice… wheels…"

"Yeah, well, it's how I roll," Ronon replied with a smirk.

"Earth humour is… rubbing off… on you…" Rodney managed a faint smile. "What about… the Goh?"

"We managed to save twenty-four tanks of them. We will return them to their home when we can," Teyla replied.

"A-and John?"

Ronon picked at his thumbnail absentmindedly while refusing to look at Rodney. "He's on Ignothia. Last I saw him, he looked slightly better than when you last saw him."

"So when… do we go… back for him?"

Ronon hesitated before he looked at him and said, "We don't."

A flash of anger crossed Rodney's tired eyes, and he tried to rise but was too weak to do more than lift his head from the pillow. "Wha-what do … you mean?"

"It's okay, Rodney," Teyla soothed. "It's just that Ignothia is out of bounds as Groten ships guard the planet. We are formulating a plan to retrieve John and get the Goh home."

Rodney huffed, his eyelids flickering, his body relaxing, quickly tiring. "I… I'll come up… with a plan…"

"You will rest and nothing more," Teyla replied. "You nearly died and are still very ill."

Rodney fought against sleep and was about to say something until Ronon stood abruptly. Many emotions ran through Ronon's mind: anger, frustration, fear, and brotherly affection and respect for the man he watched fight against sleep.

"Don't let the wheelchair fool you, McKay. I'm well enough. And I'll make sure we get Sheppard back."

A tick pulled at the corner of Rodney's mouth as he thought of a reply. His eyelids drooped, his mouth slackened, and all fight left his body.

"W-well then… I leave it… to you…" he whispered as he fell asleep.

.

.
Feed me?

Chapter Text

Chapter 42

Carson Beckett quietly pulled at a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket as Minister Harmen paced back and forth in front of the vaulted window in his office. The man had been scathingly berating him for the past half an hour. Harmen was so angry he seemed to vibrate, his muscles tense and ready. Carson had expected the conversation to be difficult, but it was worse than anticipated. Given that Caronaans were fiercely protective of family, he should have known Harmen would react this way upon seeing him. The minister believed, quite rightly, that Carson had hurt a member of his family in the past. It was obvious he hadn't forgotten or forgiven the transgression.

"You really believe I should put many of my people at risk, for so few, Gre Beckett? No matter the sad reasoning behind it?" That Harmen had used a derogatory to address him, spoke volumes of his loathing for Carson. "And not only that but also mount a rescue for one not of my people? No matter who he is or what he did for Caronaa, I cannot justify the probable cost of life. Unfortunately, such a decision does not rest upon my shoulders alone and must be put before the state persons to vote. But I assure you, they will see no differently than me."

"Minister, I must protest!" Carson raised his voice as Harmen stopped pacing and rested against his desk. "This can't wait for you to cut through useless bureaucracy! These people will die within days if you don't allow them to be taken to Ignothia! Your position does allow you to make such a decision alone!"

"I will not allow any of my people to die on another planet just because you say its water has mystical healing powers. It's ludicrous!"

"There's nothing mystical about it, and if you would just read my paper you would understand that!"

Harmen rushed at him, his face flushing red with a fury Carson knew was caused by himself, rather than the situation. "I don't have to understand a single word you say, Gre Beckett. I need only understand your soul nature, and I do, only too well. You come here with your cures and lofty ideals and whirl my daughter away with words of promise, only to leave her and the Caronaan people behind when it suited you. You came here, massaged your ego with your healings and words, and disappeared. Now, you need that ego massaged again, but I won't have it this time, do you hear me? I won't."

"Minister, please, this has nothing to do with Re-"

"It has everything to do with Rella," Harmen snapped. "My daughter was a confident, smart, intelligent and masterful doctor until she met you. Your self-assured hubris and lack of regard for her well-being led to Rella losing her place in Monuth Hospital. She began to doubt herself over everything and had to leave her practice behind. You stripped her of her confidence, her love of her profession and left her here, broken, just as you left those poor souls to fade away in the plague ward. As soon as I learned of your return I should have had my Sentry tear you to shreds and spread your insides over Lake Parnak to bake upon its poisoned surface."

The colour drained from Carson's face and he pulled again at the stray thread on his cuff as Harmen walked behind his desk. "I… I had no idea Rella was no longer practising."

"Of course you didn't. You haven't been here, have you? You haven't even tried to contact her in almost a year, so how could you know? You insult her just by being here."

Through the window behind Harmen, Carson watched a Vipen fly past, its white hull reflecting sunlight that momentarily blinded him. When his sight returned he focused on Harmen, whose face was a mask of resentment. The man had every right to dislike him, only Carson hated himself more. His lack of confidence left him and Rella in this mess. But he hadn't known how badly he had hurt her, until now. But Carson couldn't believe that his self-destructive ways had led her to turn away from being a doctor. He knew he had hurt her as much as he'd hurt himself, but to have ruined her profession? That seemed unlikely.

"I'm sorry, minister. But, as you say, I was not here, so how could I have influenced Rella's choices?"

"Because, it was her heart that made her a good doctor, Gre Beckett, and you broke her heart."

Perhaps Harmen saw it that way because he was blinded by love for his daughter, but Carson couldn't shake the feeling that the minister's belief might just be true enough to make the blame stick in his heart. The thought deflated him, and his shoulders dropped in defeat. Harmen would only ever see him as a self-assured charlatan, but perhaps he had one last bargaining chip.

"Then I implore you, Minister Harmen. Forget me, and think of those plague victims. Think only of them when making your final decision. And if it helps, I will board a Jumper back to Atlantis right now, and never return. If you say you will get them to Ignothia, I'm gone, forever."

Harmen considered this as he sat behind his grand desk and shuffled papers from one side to the other. Carson watched him, quietly hoping he would make the right decision, certain that he wouldn't. Harmen glared at Carson as he put the remaining papers into a drawer, then he leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the arms and steepled his fingers under his chin.

"Tempting though it is to rid myself and Rella of your presence, you would need to be there if I allowed your plan to go ahead."

"Are you-"

"Hold your tongue. Let me think."

Carson tugged again at the loose thread of his cuff, twisting it in his fingers as he waited for Harmen's decision. He felt not unlike a naughty schoolboy in front of a teacher, waiting for punishment. He chastised himself for not sending Lorne or anyone other than himself to Harmen, though Rella had assured him that he was the only one who could make her father see sense. Her faith in him was unfounded as the silence between him and the minister drew on. The silence was broken only by a quiet knock on the office door. It opened, and Rella stepped in, her expression grim as she stood before Harmen's desk.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, father, but Carson and I need to leave now."

"Why?"

"Fen Kasla needs to see Carson, urgently."

"Is Rodney okay?" Carson asked worriedly. "Has something happened?"

"He wants to speak with you, and Fen Kasla is having trouble keeping him in bed. He's not making sense and she fears he may harm himself by trying to leave in search of you."

"Oh bloody hell," Carson whispered. "He's in no fit state to be leaving bed never mind the hospital. Please excuse me, minister," Carson made to leave until Harmen cleared his throat.

"Gre Beckett," he said, earning a scolding look from Rella. "I have come to a decision."

"Oh, really? Have you, now?"

"Yes, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Carson had reached his limit. He snapped the thread on his cuff and turned on the minister. "Yeah? Well, I don't appreciate standing here for ages and ingratiating myself to a man who thinks so little of me. I don't appreciate being scolded like a child who ate all the sweeties from the tin. And I don't appreciate being told I ruined the life of the woman I love!"

"What?" Rella whispered. "Father, what have you been saying?"

Harmen looked unperturbed by Rella's accusatory stare. He walked from behind the desk and stopped before Carson who shook with indignation.

"I merely told Gre Beckett a few home truths."

"Father, stop it! Address him properly!"

"I will not. He brought this shame upon himself."

"What shame?! He merely came to ask you to save lives!"

"Perhaps, but what he should have asked for first, daughter, was my forgiveness. For everything he did to you, every hurt he forced on you."

"You have no right, father! What happened between Carson and me is private!"

"Not when it affects our family, Rella! Your standing in the community! Our livelihood and status! You leaving your profession and Monuth brought shame to this family!"

"Father, I left Monuth for my own reasons, and though you don't like it, you cannot blame Carson. It was my decision and mine alone."

"What did you do?" Caron asked warily, realising there was more going on than what was being said.

"What I did doesn't matter, the only thing that matters right now is Fer McKay."

"No, what did you do, Rella?"

She fell quiet, her right hand rising to her neck and she rubbed subconsciously at something hidden by her hair. Carson hadn't noticed it before, but now that he could see it, his heart sank and his mind reeled. He reached to pull her hair to the side and seeing the electronic node at the base of her skull left him stunned. He dropped her hair and took a step back, ignoring the smug look on Harmen's face.

"I requested secondment to Sabille," Rella said quietly. "I enrolled in the program."

Carson didn't know how to respond, didn't know what to say. Sabille was where Sentrys trained, where the ultimate warriors were made. Where the normal was modified into something more than human. It was a hell hole of human and machine amalgamation and misery. It was what set the Sentrys apart from all other biosuit warriors. It was the breaking down and rebuilding of a human into something almost fully machine.

"Oh God, it really is my fault."

"Carson, no!"

"It is! You know I despised the Sentry program, knew I thought it barbaric! And yet… you did it anyway… Why? To get back at me?!"

"Carson I'm-"

"Dear God, you Caronaans are all the same! Conceited, arrogant, condescending. You think only of yourself and no one else! Advancement for all, eh? And damn the rest of us!"

"Carson, please! I didn't go further than the initial implanting!"

"No," he said as he stepped back. "No, this is just wrong."

It all made sense now, why Harmen was so utterly furious with him. Though it wasn't his fault, Carson understood that Harmen was hurting and lashing out at the one person he knew influenced his daughter, even though Carson would never approve of or advocate for someone training in Sabille.

Carson backed out of the office and stood poised at the top step of the grand staircase leading outside. He barely blinked as Harmen slammed his office door in his face. He hardly thought a thing as he took his first step towards the exit. By the time he sat in the Vipen, Carson had only just regained his composure and pulled together his scrambled thoughts. Rella wanted to be a Sentry and all that it entailed. Had he truly done this to her? Had he hurt her so badly that she wished to become an unfeeling hybrid whose main goal was to destroy? It made a mockery of Rella's many years of helping others. It went against everything in Carson's mind and soul and he thought Rella would think the same. Perhaps he never truly knew her. Maybe they were never meant to be together and this was the reason why.

The Vipen was in the air and on its way to Monuth when Carson finally wondered what the minister's decision had been. Not that it mattered to Carson just then. Whatever Harmen decided, Carson knew that he and the other Atlanteans would make the journey to Ignothia regardless, such was their strength of character and respect for each other and life itself. They didn't need Caronaans interfering with their cold hearts and analytical minds. As the Vipen closed in on Monuth Hospital, Carson wouldn't allow his heart to break. He wouldn't permit the pain Rella had caused to consume him. So he filled his mind with the faces of those he loved and cherished above all. At that moment, his thoughts didn't include even a single Caronaan.
He thought of Rodney, so wishing to speak to him that he might harm himself to do so. He thought of John, floating underwater on an alien planet just to survive. He thought of Teyla, fighting to save a lifeform he barely understood. He thought of Ronon, whose fierce loyalty drove him into danger at every turn. And, he thought of Lorne and the others, just as much his family as any Atlantean, their loyalty and friendship were never overlooked. These were the people Carson knew, understood and loved. These were the people he should fight for and live for.

By the time the Vipen landed, Carson had hardened his heart against the Caronaans, to the point he barely even acknowledged the plague ward as he passed it. There was no one in there worthy of his help. He ran on an enraged autopilot as he navigated the hospital, angry thoughts firing through his mind like missiles that exploded into new trains of thought and rage. The white cleanliness of the hospital further incensed him. White engendered thoughts of goodness, accomplishment, purity, grace, and values that Carson no longer believed the Caronaans held.

It was all lies, a complete fallacy. And he had fallen for it.

He stormed into the ward, barged past the nurse's station, and entered Rodney's bay. Three nurses were restraining Rodney to the bed as one held an actuator about to stab him with it. Rodney was red-faced and struggling, he looked lost, afraid, and confused as hell. The monitor by the bed showed dangerous spikes in his vitals as he fought off the nurses.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Carson bellowed with rage. "Get your hands off him!"

His hurt and anger poured forth so forcefully that even Rodney cringed in the bed. Carson glared at the nurses as they swiftly left the bay and slammed the door behind them. With his hands pulled into fists, he walked to Rodney's bedside, muttering to himself. Rodney lay there, dazed and confused and speaking incoherently. Carson wasn't sure if it was the infection causing the look on his face, or his own sudden change in personality. But Rodney stared at him with big, blue, fear-filled eyes, and this scared Carson, so much so that the anger faded from his mind.

Carson didn't like how he was feeling. He didn't like getting angry, didn't like to shout or lose his temper. He didn't treat others like dirt, and he certainly didn't like the look of fear his actions and words forced onto Rodney's face. He closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath. Carson felt the familiar feeling of his true self settling on him like a well-loved blanket and relaxed, calm once more.

"C-Carson?" Rodney said quietly.

He opened his eyes to see Rodney was staring at him. He no longer looked afraid, but he looked awful and fever gave his eyes a slightly mad look. Carson had been so wound up in himself and his thoughts that he failed to see the toll that the struggle had taken on Rodney, so he smiled and tidied the bed covers around Rodney's relaxing form.

"Go to sleep, get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

"But I… I need to-"

"You need to rest. And that's doctor's orders."

Rodney closed his eyes and was asleep within seconds. The monitor showed that his vitals were back to normal and Carson chuckled when he heard a purring snore emanate from the sleeping man. But his mirth turned to sorrow when he thought of how terrified Rodney had looked. Carson could only guess what Rodney's fever-addled brain might have been seeing when he entered the ward shouting at people like some insane tyrant. He felt ashamed for taking his anger out on innocent people and made a note to apologise to Rodney and the nurses he had chased away. He would also have to apologise to everyone else for failing so miserably to obtain the help they needed to get John back from Ignothia. He'd blown it and wasn't sure what they would do now.

Carson felt drained, so weary that he collapsed with a sigh into the chair by Rodney's bedside and closed his eyes, intending to be there when his friend next woke up. The quietness of the bay and the mild snore coming from Rodney eased Carson's mind. He was almost asleep when there came a quiet knock on the door. Carson looked to see Rella standing on the threshold, one hand rubbing the back of the other with unease.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly.

Carson ignored her and looked instead to Rodney's sleeping form.

"My father has agreed to send ten Vipens to Ignothia with the Jumpers."

Carson continued to ignore her, though her words did please him.

"He said you pushed your luck asking for fifteen."

Carson nearly smiled and Rella must have noticed as she quietly laughed.

"He said, and I quote, "That man is offensive, but means well." I think he secretly admires you."

He did smile this time and finally looked at her. She returned the smile, approached the bed and leaned on it. "I'm sorry, Carson."

He sighed and shook his head. "A Sentry, Rella. Really?"

"It was a stupid idea. After the plague, only a few Sentry were left alive to defend Caronaa. Sentrys always fascinated me. I always wanted to know how they worked, and how they combined machine and man. My curiosity and loyalty to Caronaa led me to consider becoming one, but, in the end, I changed my mind."

"Why?"

"You."

"What do you mean, me?"

"I knew you would be against it. Once I stopped and thought about it, I realised it was a reaction to losing so many people to the plague, and you, and for reasons I didn't understand. So after the first implant, I resigned from the program and returned to Monuth."

"But your father says you no longer work here."

"I do, but he doesn't know that. Do you think I would give him the satisfaction of an I-told-you-so?"

"I guess not."

"Well, I did. Give him the satisfaction. About fifteen minutes ago."

"So that's why he caved," groaned Carson.

"Caved?"

"Said yes to the Vipen plan."

"Oh, yes. But you almost had him convinced. I just pushed him to make the decision faster."

Rella looked at Rodney, and her smile vanished. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He will be, yes. The infection from his wounds has left him weak and vulnerable, but with proper rest and antibiotics, he'll be fine."

"Maybe we should take him to Ignothia."

Carson chuckled, "I'm not sure he'd make it there, unfortunately. He's too ill."

"Then we must bring him some bionites when we return. What was it he wanted to talk to you about?"

"I don't know. When I arrived, I wasn't exactly in the listening mood, and he fell asleep before I was. But I'll be here when he wakes, I'll find out then."

"I'll take my leave. I must inform Fer Lorne and Fen Emmagan of my father's decision. But can I ask you something before I go?"

"Of course."

"What does "ate all the sweeties from the tin," mean?"

Carson chuckled and was about to reply when Rodney began talking in his fitful sleep.

"It… just… the Goa'uld… enough…"

Carson's heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened at the mention of their old foe. He wondered what the hell had Rodney so wound up over an evil being that was literally in a different galaxy.

"What's he saying?" Rella asked as Carson placed his hand on Rodney's brow.

"I'm not sure, but nothing good," he replied, shaking his head. "He's burning up bad, go fetch Kasla."

"But what is Goa'uld?"

"You don't want to know," Carson whispered ominously as Rodney continued to rave in his sleep.

.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 43

Evan Lorne stood before Jumper 2, watching everyone getting ready to leave for Ignothia as the Vipen ship contingent flew in to land. Behind Jumper 3, Caran was checking a complicated loom of wire. He hoped she hadn't compromised any of the Jumpers in her quest to fix her own by pulling out the wiring to a vital piece of equipment. To his right, Stackhouse was grilling his team in the back of Jumper 4 over some infraction over rations. He chuckled when the man hollered at one of his men for all to hear.

"You're like the goddamned Cookie Monster, Forest! Give everyone a break and wire your mouth shut!"

Beside Lorne stood Teyla and Ronon, though Ronon was leaning a little too much for Lorne's liking. The man steadfastly refused any more medical treatment until they brought John home, and Lorne hoped his health wouldn't give out before then. Teyla was reading a tablet with details that Teldy's team had drawn up about Ignothia and the landscape they would soon fly into. She asked Ronon questions about what he had seen there, and he offered all the information he'd observed on the planet, particularly about the Groten ships.

The ships worried Lorne.

Teldy had informed him about the sonic weaponry used by the ships and the devastating effects of those weapons. That the team had suffered perforated eardrums was the least of their worries, considering it had almost shaken their Jumper to pieces in the sky. Lorne and Stackhouse had put their minds together to devise a plan to overcome the effects of these weapons, and came up with only one idea: stealth. They had no means to confront such formidable armaments, therefore, the best thing to do was not to confront them at all.

They now had a fleet of three Jumpers and ten Vipens, but at least five massive Groten fighters were on Ignothia. As the Jumpers were the only craft capable of transporting the tanks of Goh, it was decided that the tanks would only be taken back if the Groten threat was neutralized. The first run to Ignothia would be purely reconnaissance to assess the threat. The fleet aimed to disable or destroy the Groten ships, but they had to be coordinated even to attempt it. Ahead of the fleet, Lorne would take Jumper 2 and his team into Ignothian space while cloaked to avoid detection. What he discovered there would determine how the fleet would proceed and highlight any issues with the plan to retrieve John and return the Goh. Lorne had decided that if there were even a small chance that they could retrieve Sheppard on that first run, he would take it in case they didn't get another. For Lorne, the return of John Sheppard was paramount, the return of the Goh secondary to his rescue. Should a second run prove impossible, the Goh could at least live out their lives on Caronaa, but it was unlikely John would survive for long and alone on Ignothia. Once the scouting was complete, he would head back to Caronaan space and update the fleet. If he were attacked during his reconnaissance, he would send an emergency subspace communication, and the fleet would then attend in support.

A nice tidy plan, Lorne thought. But he knew tidy plans had a way of falling to pieces when implemented in reality.

Lorne smiled as he noticed Ronon pull himself upright when Carson Beckett appeared from behind a recently landed Vipen.

"You're not gonna fool him, you look like crap," he said, and Ronon glowered at him in reply.

Carson looked serious as he hurried toward them. Behind him came Rella and a Caronaan Sentry, the blood-red surfaces of the Advanced Bio glinting in the sunlight.

"Major Lorne, are you about ready to leave?"

"Sure am, Doc, why?"

"I insist on a doctor being present, and Minister Harmen insists Fimas join your crew."

"I might be able to squeeze you in, Doc, but I don't think there will be enough room for a Sentry."

"Make room," Fimas said through the biosuit com.

"Look, it's not that I don't want you there, it's a physical impossibility."

Fimas huffed, which came across the comm as a burst of static. He maneuvered the biosuit to the rear of Jumper 2 and stepped up the ramp. The suit was at least a foot taller than the ship, but Fimas folded the four arms and two legs until it sat like a ball in the bay. He then extricated himself from the suit and returned. "The suit will fit like that, and I will sit in the back."

Lorne had to admit, it would be good to have one of the Sentrys with him, but Fimas was a pain in the ass he didn't need.

"Not sure where I'll put you, Doc."

"I'm not coming," Carson added. "Rella will be joining you."

"So that's why you're joining us," Lorne said to Fimas, who ignored him.

"I'd come myself," Carson said quietly. "But I'm needed here more."

Lorne nodded in understanding, "How's McKay doing? I heard he'd taken a bad turn."

"He's not too good, I'm afraid. He had an allergic reaction to one of the Caronaan antibiotics, so we had to stop them until we can identify which one he reacted to. At the moment, he's fighting the infection and fever on his own, and, well, I just want to be there for him. A friendly face and all that."

Lorne knew it was more than that, knew that Rodney's condition was likely life-threatening, but he nodded and smiled anyway. "Well, tell him we are all rooting for him."

Carson inclined his head. "I certainly shall. Now, if there is any chance you can get to John, Rella will be there to assist you. We have no idea what his condition is going to be, so I want a medic there in case anything goes wrong."

"I hear you, Doc, and I appreciate the help."

Carson cast a weary eye on Ronon and grimaced. "You really don't take me seriously, do you? Or any healthcare professional, for that matter."

"I'm fine."

"I'm fine," Carson parroted sarcastically. "Honestly, you lot really boil my blood at times. At least take these," he said, handing Ronon a small packet of pills. "Take the white ones for pain, and one yellow one, three times a day. And for God's sake, when this is all over, promise me you will bloody rest!"

"Sure, I promise," Ronon replied, stuffing the packet in his shirt.

"And I, too, promise he will," Teyla piped in. "I will make sure of it."

Ronon gruffed a surly reply that went unheard as the final Vipen roared overhead and came in to land.

"Well, looks like it's time for me to go," Lorne sighed and gathered his team.

)0(

In the darkness of the flight deck, the Groten leader dozed through the monotony of waiting for something to happen. Every day, he sat there endlessly waiting for news from the front or word to restock weapon supplies from the waters. It was his punishment for losing an entire battalion to one of their foes due to a hasty command that left hundreds of Groten dead. His superior would never let him forget the error in judgment, so he slept the days away in a ship on a planet far from home with the dregs of the Groten troops. He scratched at his facial scar; the thing burned on hot and humid days such as this. It was another reminder of his fatal error, one his superior had bestowed upon him with his long, sharp claws. Sik'tak was lucky to be alive. Any other commander would have beheaded him.

Drurig, his second in command, growled loudly, pulling Sik'tak from his lazy thoughts. Drurig pointed to the holographic screen below the viewport. Sik'tak growled as the screen showed the Stargate in the upper atmosphere had activated. Until recently, Groten scout ships were the only craft that used the Stargate, which made the appearance of the alien craft from before an anomaly he didn't like. He watched the skies to see what would come from the Stargate, wondering if it would be one of his own, or one like the little alien craft. But no ship appeared, and the Stargate shut down.

Drurig pressed buttons on his console, scanning for craft. ("There is nothing there, commander,") he growled. ("Why would the Gate do that?")

("A passing ship that changed its mind on Gate travel, perhaps?")

("Possibly, but we should be alert for anything unusual.")

("Of course. Take us up to the third level and have every ship on stand by.")

The largest of the red mottled ships rose in the Ignothian sky until it reached the edge of the planet's atmosphere and took position beneath the Stargate, waiting for something to happen.

)0(

"I don't think they saw us," Lorne said as he piloted the Jumper towards the Ignothian sea.

"Four ships have moved to take positions around the Stargate," Coughlin replied. "They know something happened."

"Yeah, well, let's just keep out of their way. Reed, keep tracking those ships. How are we coming with the tracker, Rivers?"

"I think I've located him, sir. But he's not where Teldy's team said he would be."

"Okay, so where is he?"

"About four klicks south of the previous position."

"How the hell did he get there?" Lorne asked no one in particular and changed course.

They flew over a Groten ship hidden in a thick forest, the craft barely noticeable in the red-leaved trees that crowded the area. It wasn't there by accident, clearly hidden for surprise attacks, and Lorne wondered how many more could be similarly hidden around the planet. Their plan would need to be revised, because he didn't think they could take on the five originally reported, let alone more.

"Scan the planet for more ships," he said as he lowered the Jumper towards a flat grassy area nestled between a strip of yellow-barked trees. He hovered above the area for a moment, looking about to see where John might be, spying a large rocky crevice carved deep into the ground.

The Jumper touched down gently, and as Lorne powered it down, his ears were assaulted by a loud hiss from the biosuit as Fimas opened it to climb inside. He knew it had to move so they could exit the ship, but he couldn't help but worry that a machine that size would attract unwanted attention from the very beings they wished to hide from. Rella collected her medical bag and rose to her feet, but Lorne shook his head.

"Not yet, Doc. I need to ensure the area is safe before anyone else goes out. It's bad enough this hulking thing needs to go out there."

"I can guard the Jumper, Fer Lorne," Fimas said coolly as the Jumper hatch opened. "I may seem conspicuous to you, but my suit has built-in antidetection. So long as you keep the Jumper cloaked, I can look after myself."

Fimas controlled the suit in a strange waddle to get it clear of the ship. Once outside, he uncurled the Advanced Biosuit to stand tall at the rear of the ship, a fierce guardian for those still inside the Jumper. Lorne took his first steps out onto Ignothia, feeling the warmth from the sun on his back as he crept towards the crevice, gun raised in preparation for an unwelcome attack. The area was quiet, the breeze flowing through trees and strange birdsong the only things he could hear. It was a utopian, peaceful place, largely untouched by machine or industry. It had beautiful views that Lorne would love to paint onto canvas, and maybe one day he would. But today, it was about gathering intel and locating Sheppard.

He peered down into the crevice, seeing calm water at the bottom which glowed green under the sunlight. He saw a ledge a few meters below and near the water's edge, so he climbed down to stand on it. Looking around, Lorne saw nothing of John, though the tracker showed he was there. It was just a cave with rocks and water. The far wall was damp and covered in bright orange moss from which water dripped into the expanse below with soft splashes. Lorne watched as another drop fell and hit a patch of discolouration in the water. There was a dark shadow beneath the water level, and Lorne grinned as he realised it was John's head he was staring at. He leaned down to reach into the water and tapped it, pulling back when violence erupted from the depths. John Sheppard leaped out so quickly that it surprised the hell out of Lorne. He'd seen how deathly ill John had been back in the barn before he was brought to Ignothia, but now, as he stood there panting before him, Lorne could see an impossible transformation had taken place in the man.

John heaved deep breaths, bare from the waist up, his scruffy hair clamped to his head as rivulets of water poured down his face. Before, his body had been withered and pallid, and Lorne had been certain the man would die. Now, it was as if nothing had happened to him at all. The terrible wounds Lorne had seen on his chest were little more than silver scars now. John's body was back to its lean but muscular physique, strong and healthy, and, he noticed, poised, ready to attack. He didn't appear to see Lorne as he stared ahead with a furrowed brow, hands pulled into fists by his side, and a scowl on his face. His green eyes seemed to glow as his nostrils flared, his teeth ground loudly, and John took a menacing step forward.

"Uh, Sir?" Lorne said as he hastily retreated a few steps, holding his arms up defensively and bumping into the rocky face behind him. "Sir, it's Lorne, Evan Lorne."

"Evan?" John said and blinked rapidly.

"Yes, sir."

Lorne only now noticed that the green in Sheppard's eyes had nothing to do with the colour of his irises. Something coated them, something that John now wiped away. The coating gone, John stared at him and grinned lopsidedly.

"Man, am I glad to see you!"

Lorne grinned back, still shocked at the appearance of the man before him. "It's good to see you too, sir. You look…"

"Yeah, I know, crazy, right?"

"But how?"

"I've no idea. I'm sure someone will explain it, but right now, all I care about is getting off this planet and into some fresh clothes. Maybe grab something to eat. Hell, I'd even enjoy one of McKay's snack bars about now."

Something must have shown on Lorne's face as John's grin faltered and his brows creased.

"What? What's wrong?"

"A lot has happened since you were brought here. The Groten attacked the village, we managed to fend them off. And we rescued as many Goh as possible, like you asked, but…"

"But?"

"Many have been injured, sir. Doctor McKay was hurt the worst."

John frowned. "How bad is he?"

"Bad," Lorne replied. "He-"

"Who else was injured?" John cut in abruptly, as if not ready to hear more about Rodney's condition.

"Ronon has an infection in his wounds, Teyla took a Goh to the stomach, but she's-"

"Goddam it!" John shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

"Teyla's fine, the Goh somehow healed her. Ronon, well, he's Ronon, Sir."

Sheppard's lips twitched, but he couldn't commit to a smile. He paced back and forth on the small ledge for a time, then faced Lorne.

"Is Rodney going to…?" he quietened, not wishing to utter that final word.

"I don't know, sir. All I know is that Beckett was worried enough to stay behind and send Rella here in his place."

John stared at a point just beyond Lorne's head, and in his eyes, Lorne saw insurmountable grief and pain. He'd put that pain there, for he practically just told the man his brother was dying.

"I'm sorry, sir."

Lorne watched as John gathered himself, suppressing his emotions and donning the soldier within, using it as armor to shield himself.

"Then, let's get the hell out of here, Major," he said, his voice hard and words clipped.

)0(

Once everyone aboard the Jumper had gotten over their initial shock at the sight of John, they set in for the trip back to Caronaa. Rella checked John over and supplied him with a blanket, as Reed announced there were only five ships on the planet, as originally reported by Teldy.

"The fifth ship's engines are heating up. Looks like they're about ready to hit the sky," Coughlin said as Lorne took his place in the pilot seat.

"We better get moving then."

The Jumper rose in the air and quietly sped towards the upper atmosphere. John stood behind Lorne's seat and took in the sight of Ignothia, frowning when he spotted the fifth ship climbing up ahead of them.

"Look at the size of that thing! And you say there is one even bigger?"

"Yes, sir. The lead ship is about twice the size of the others." Reed replied.

"Well, keep that cloak on and get us out of here."

While the Jumper climbed higher, Reed began to get fidgety in the seat behind Coughlin. Now and again, he muttered something and then pressed and clicked at the tablet in his hand. He snapped his fingers and got to his feet to grab his kit bag and retrieve a pair of earbuds. Putting them in his ears, he sat back down and continued fidgeting.

"Reed, is there something you want to tell us?" Lorne asked, irritated.

"I'm picking up increased communications between the Groten ships," Reed replied, taking one earbud out and continuing to listen with one ear.

"You can understand them?" John asked.

"No, sir, but their speech pattern shows heightening anxiety among them. I think they might know we are here."

"They can't, we're cloaked."

"Something's happening," Lorne cut in.

The fifth ship had stopped climbing and hovered on the distant horizon. Lorne brought the Jumper to a stop, not wishing to charge ahead if there was a possibility that their cover was blown. Nothing happened for a while, though Reed continued to tell them something was happening behind the scenes.

Then the sound started.

The tremendous noise was like the trumpets of Revelation, tearing the skies apart with its loud and raucous, booming roar. The Groten sonic weapon had been deployed once more, and they felt it rattle their bones even from a distance. Then sound came from a different direction, and Coughlin checked the computer only to inform them that another ship had dropped to the same height as the other, covering the area to the rear of the Jumper.

"They might not know we're here, but they're checking to see if we are," John informed them. "If our hull bounces back their sound, they've got us. You need to get us out of here, now!"

Lorne pulled the Jumper into a steep climb, heading directly for the Stargate. Coughlin tried to guide a safe path up, using the Jumper sensors to avoid the reach of the sonic weapon. They made it to the upper atmosphere without being detected, but a new problem arose when they found the lead Groten ship sitting in front of the Stargate.

"Search the area for another Stargate," Lorne said, steering the Jumper past the Groten ship and Stargate into the darkness beyond.

"There's none in the near vicinity, Sir."

Lorne slowed the Jumper and spun it around to face Ignothia.

"Then I guess we wait here for them to relax," John said, strangely.

He pulled the blanket tighter around his body and took an unsteady step back, his eyes unfocused, and his body relaxing. His legs buckled beneath him, and Lorne jumped out of the pilot seat to grab him. He and Fimas lowered him down on the floor, and Rella set about checking him over.

"Is he okay?" Lorne asked as Rella tucked the blanket tighter to John's body. As they waited for an answer, John began quietly snoring. Lorne screwed up his face. "Is he sleeping?!"

Rella laughed. "He's fine. He may look physically back to normal, but his system is still weakened. He's just exhausted himself. Remember, his body has gone through two incredible transformations in a short period. You'd tire quickly too, if it were you," she winked and placed her bag beneath John's head for a pillow.

"Wish I could fall asleep like that," Lorne muttered, then returned to his seat.

)0(

Drurig pressed a button on his small screen and transferred it to the main viewer. He pointed to the readouts scrolling down the screen.

("Nothing has been detected.")

("Then it was nothing,") Sik'tak replied.

("There is something,") Drurig said, freezing the scrolling text and pointing to one line. ("I picked it up on the low yield scanner.")

("What is it?")

("I don't know. Whatever it is is beyond the Stargate, sitting unmoving approximately 15 skilots away.")

("And it wasn't there before?")

("No, Commander.")

("Move the ship to one skilot ahead of its position. Let's get a look at the thing.")

Drurig input the commands, and the massive ship turned from the Stargate and lumbered through space to the point highlighted on the readout.

("I see nothing,") growled Sik'tak.

("And yet, the sensors say something is there,") Drurig replied.

("Whatever it is, it's too small to be much of a nuisance. Save our weapon supplies for a real fight and take us back to the Stargate.")

A high-pitched alarm sounded from the console, and both Groten looked to the screen.

("The Stargate has activated,") Sik'tak announced.

("Commander, the anomaly is moving. It's heading for the Stargate, very fast!")

("Fire on it!")

Drurig set aim and fired three of the silos atop the ship. The three missiles sped towards the rushing anomaly, and within seconds, they would converge on the tiny moving object and obliterate it. But the thing moved too fast, and it made it to the Stargate unharmed. One second it was a blip on the screen, the next it was gone, and the Stargate shut down.

Sik'tak roared and grabbed for Drurig, his claws spearing the smaller Groten's hide. With frustrated anger, he pulled Drurig by the pelt until their faces were nearly touching.

("If you miss a shot like that again, Drurig, I will make sure your scar will be ten times worse than mine,") he growled as he let Drurig fall to the floor in baying wretchedness.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 44

Rodney McKay slipped in and out of consciousness in a room illuminated solely by lamplight. His mind was slow, his thoughts little more than hazy, sluggish processes that meandered through strange dreams and ideas too complicated to understand in his current condition. There were times he understood what was happening, and times, like now, when he understood hardly anything. This led to uncontrolled bursts of panic and paranoia, which saw him twist feebly where he lay, unable to figure out what scared him.

Sometimes he felt like he'd been plunged into an ice bath; other times it felt like he'd been dropped into a volcano. His body often trembled so much it seemed to shake the brain in his skull. The world seemed too bright, so Rodney kept his eyes closed, even though it meant entertaining the tortured nightmares of his fevered mind. Occasionally, a sound would bring him closer to reality, but reality never lasted long, and he would sink beneath the strong hold of infirmity into a hellish limbo.

Pain was all-encompassing one moment, then an unpleasant numbness the next. The most excruciating pain was in his side and upper arm, yet it radiated in endless waves of discomfort throughout his body, often leaving him whimpering in misery, and he had no idea why.

Then there were the dreams and nightmares. The dreams mostly centered around his chosen family, his team. In some, John, Teyla and Ronon laughed at him, berated him and teased him. In others, they turned their backs on him and walked away, and Rodney could never catch up to them, forever running on the spot as they disappeared into the distance.

The nightmares came in vivid bursts of violent images, sometimes so terrifying he heard himself cry out. They featured spectres from his past and monsters from his present, and all were warped, confused and horrifying.

Sometimes someone soothed him, helped pull him from his nightmares and calmed his frightened mind. Whoever soothed him often grasped his hand when his struggles became too much to bear, the physical contact a tether of strength that pulled Rodney from his nightmares into peaceful slumber. And sometimes, the voice of that someone impossibly belonged to a man he was sure couldn't be there. Yet the voice was John's, and no matter how it could be, it comforted Rodney in his fevered panic and painful dreams.

)0(

John held Rodney's hand tightly as he twisted weakly in his bed, desperately trying to pull him out of another nightmare. He had insisted on seeing Rodney as soon as the Jumper touched down on Caronaa, exasperating everyone with his stubbornness to yield to medical input. He resolutely refused to be treated or examined until he'd seen Rodney, but he hadn't banked on Rella being as short-tempered as Carson. He relented under her frosty chastisement and allowed himself to be examined on the condition that he be taken to Monuth to see Rodney immediately after. Rella organised a Vipen to escort him, and Carson met him at the doors to the hospital, a wheelchair pushed before him. John vehemently objected to the wheelchair but gave in when Carson's fiery Scottish temper flared and made it clear he didn't have a choice. Carson brought him fresh clothes to change into, helped him to a changeroom to freshen up, then took him to see Rodney.

When they entered the hospital bay, John's first look at his friend frightened him. Rodney had been curled in a ball, muttering and whispering, his eyes roving as he babbled madly. He shook and trembled and fought against unseen demons that appeared to tease him endlessly. He was flushed red, sweating, and John tried to avoid staring at the large dressings covering his wounds.

John barely noticed when Carson pressed a cannula into his skin and set up an intravenous infusion. He didn't feel the needle when he extracted blood for testing, and barely acknowledged any of the doctor's ministrations. All he could think about was how ill Rodney appeared. In the not-too-distant past, Rodney had watched over him in what could have been his final days. As he now did the same for Rodney, John realised how hard that must have been for the man, for he himself found it difficult to see his friend so deathly ill.

John's presence allowed Carson to take a hard-earned break. He'd been with Rodney almost every moment since his collapse, and looked exhausted. John insisted that he shower and rest for a while, and promised to watch over Rodney and contact him should anything happen. He helped John into a high-backed chair by Rodney's bedside, then, with a tired yawn, he left. That had been three hours ago, and John continued to sit there, holding Rodney's hand whenever he twisted in his bedsheets and cried out in fear.

John fought against his exhaustion, constantly willing himself to stay awake and keep watch. It surprised him how easily he tired, but he guessed he was still weak, despite the Goh waters. Primus slept away within him. In his haste to return to Caronaa, he'd forgotten that the little creature was still lodged under the base of his skull. He'd had a private conversation with it on the Jumper ride back, explaining his hasty retreat from Ignothia. Primus assured him it was fine with the situation, even stated it was happy to come along on the ride as it would be able to see what had been done for the Goh left on Caronaa. Primus slept for now, conserving energy while leaving John to keep his vigil by Rodney's bedside.

Rodney was burning up once more. John could feel the heat in his hand and see it in the flush of his face. For what felt like the hundredth time, he dipped a cloth into the basin at the foot of the bed and gently pressed it to Rodney's forehead. His body fluctuated between intense heat and a brief coolness, and whenever his temperature spiked, it sent him spiraling into a feverish panic. John did everything he could to bring Rodney relief, pressing the cold, damp cloths to his face and torso, adjusting his covers, even fanning him with paper he found in a folder. Occasionally, it seemed to help, keeping the nightmares at bay, but more often than not, Rodney's fever climbed faster than John could manage to cool him down.

John dipped the cloth again as Kasla entered the bay carrying a small machine under her arm and a tray with a large syringe and tubing. She put the items on the bedside table and began setting up.

"How long will he be like this?" John asked as she placed the syringe inside the machine.

"I am unsure, Fer Sheppard. Fer McKay came to us in an extremely fragile state. It was unclear whether he would even survive his injuries," Kasla replied as she pushed the tubing into the tip of the syringe. "He was doing remarkably well, considering, until he took the reaction to the antibiotics."

"He has allergies, Carson knows that. Surely he told you of them?"

"Of course he did. But the infection is caused by bacteria that neither we nor Fer Beckett have ever seen before, therefore, we had no way to treat it other than to create a new antibiotic especially for Fer Dex and Fer McKay. It was impossible to tell how anyone would react to it."

"But he will recover?"

"I cannot lie, Fer Sheppard, he is very ill. The longer the infection runs rampant in his body, the sicker and more septic he will become. Rest assured, we are working hard to formulate a solution to help him." Kasla closed the medicine pump and connected its tube to a cannula in Rodney's arm. "Until then, we can only try to make him comfortable. This should help him."

He merely nodded, his gaze never leaving Rodney as Kasla set the pump to run and left to attend to others. John watched the man's weak stirrings lessen gradually and his disjointed mumblings fade as the new drug hit his system. The grip on his hand lessened until Rodney's hand slipped from his, and John relaxed back in his chair, thankful that he was getting some relief.

His thoughts drifted as he listened to Rodney's quiet snores. He thought back through the years and everything they had been through. Together they had faced danger from many things, from the Genii to the Wraith, from strange illnesses to ancient tech. They'd helped each other through the darkest times and fought side by side on the battlefield. Though he drove John insane at times, life without Rodney would be boring, and one in which John would miss him terribly. He didn't know how to pray or to whom, but he silently asked the universe to keep Rodney alive as his mind drifted off to sleep.

With their minds still connected, John and Primus dreamed as one. They shared a strange amalgamation of human and Goh life, a surreal experience for both parties. Each saw glimpses of the other's life, skewed in the dreamscape into something strange but captivating. They simultaneously swam and walked, breathed and drowned, felt hot and cold, happy and sad, nervous and confident. Their tangled emotions and experiences formed a space where neither fully embodied themselves, yet never fully became the other. Lost in the strange adventure, it took some time for John to recognise that his name was being called. The small, tired voice echoed in the dreamscape, luring him back to awareness.

"John?"

When he finally awoke, he saw Rodney was staring at him.

"Hey, buddy," he said, leaning forward in the chair.

Rodney went to smile, then hesitated, eyeing him warily while shaking his head. "No…no you can't be here…"

John could see the fever-driven madness in Rodney's wide, bloodshot eyes and wondered what the man was seeing. His terror-stricken expression crushed John's heart, and he sought to reassure the man without fully understanding what was wrong.

"Hey, it's okay, Rodney."

"No, no, it can't be. If you are here, then, then… you can't be there. And, and… if you can't be there, then…"

John continued trying to break through Rodney's unabating hellish loop of febrile insanity, failing miserably until something occurred to him. It took a moment to understand what was running through Rodney's scrambled mind, and when he eventually realised, John reached forward and grabbed his hand.

"Hey, Rodney, look at me," he said firmly. "It's me, Rodney, I'm really here, and I'm alive."

Rodney kept trying to pry his hand from John's grip, pulling feebly until his movements finally stopped. His eyes darted back and forth as a rare moment of lucidity returned, and then Rodney beamed, his entire face brightening.

"John!"

"Yeah, buddy, it's really me," John smiled, thankful to see the madness retreat from Rodney's eyes.

"But, how?"

"Magic water or something," John replied with a chuckle. "I'm as surprised as anyone."

"When?"

"A few hours ago. I came straight here, but you've been asleep."

Rodney pulled an annoyed face. "I can't help it."

"I know. With what you've been through, it's no surprise."

"They told you, huh?"

"Yeah, well, it's not every day Rodney McKay steps into a machine and becomes a superhuman. Oh, wait, you actually have a record of that, now," John smiled when Rodney quietly laughed.

"Yeah, well, no more machines for me," he replied, his eyes closing, already tiring.

"You say that now, but you never could keep your hands off new tech." Rodney fought against his sleepiness, tried to push himself upright, but John halted him. "Rest," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Rodney relaxed into the pillow, slightly breathless as he tried to turn onto his side. Once settled, he sighed and closed his eyes momentarily.

"I thought we were going to lose you," he said quietly.

"Yeah, me too," John admitted, pressing a cloth to Rodney's forehead.

"It worked, though. R-really worked. You look fine, now."

"Yeah, but I'm not at full strength quite yet."

"M-maybe I could get… s-some of that magic water."

"I'll make sure they bring some back from Ignothia."

His words stirred something in Rodney's mind, and his eyes flew open as he twisted in the bed, the sudden burst of energy surprising John.

"The-the Goh!" he cried, and John could see a film of sweat burst on his forehead.

"The Goh are fine."

"No-no-no, I know… how… I have an idea!"

"You can tell me about it later. You need to rest."

"No…" his eyes fluttered and he fought to keep them open. "I know how… how they can protect themselves."

John sensed Primus waking and listened as intently as himself.

Rodney swallowed thickly. "Remember… the Goa'uld?"

"Kinda hard to forget them."

"The Goh, they're… not unlike them… with the Groten…"

The rest of his words were little more than unintelligible mutterings as lucidity slipped away and his temperature rose again. But John understood enough of what Rodney said to grasp what he was alluding to.

What is Goa'uld? Primus asked as John dipped the cloth back into the basin of cool water.

"They are a race of beings in my home galaxy. Nasty things."

How could such beings be of help to the Goh?

"I can guarantee they wouldn't help, but their ways could be useful."

How so?

"Why don't you read my mind and see for yourself?"

John grimaced, pressure building in his head as Primus delved into his mind for answers. He left the cool cloth on Rodney's forehead, then slouched back in the chair, stretched his legs out, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. If he understood Rodney's train of thought correctly, his idea was to have the Goh use the Groten as automatons to protect themselves. John had to hand it to Rodney; he never failed to come up with some insane idea to save the day. Ethically, it was a monstrous idea, but given what the Groten had done to his friends and the Goh, John was sure his conscience would get over it. John expanded Rodney's thought further, imagining the Goh using the five Groten ships on Ignothia as their own. They could fend off further Groten arrivals, might even catapult the Goh into spacefaring entities.

We have no wish to explore space, John, Primus said as it pulled from his mind. But, using the Groten as they used us is a promising thought.

Do you see the Goh the same as the Goa'uld?

"Nah, you're nothing like them," John assured it. "You just share an ability, is all."

I am glad.

"You might not want to go adventuring, but you could use the ships to protect Ignothia by controlling the Groten within them."

Would that not make us as evil as the Goa'uld?

John had to think about that. He and Rodney were proposing that the Goh entrap and enslave the Groten, which was exactly what the Goa'uld did to humans. The Groten had undoubtedly done something similar to the Goh, but did that mean they deserved the same treatment in return?

"I'm not saying it is right, Primus, but it is something that should be considered. Having those ships would mean you would be able to protect yourself. You could protect the whole of Ignothia with them."

Perhaps. But this is something that I cannot decide alone.
It would be a decision for all Goh.

Whatever was decided, it would mean nothing if the fleet destroyed the Groten ships. John had to get word to Lorne and the others before they headed back to Ignothia, but right then, he couldn't even open his eyes. Exhaustion descended upon him, and John silently cursed his debilitation as sleep beckoned. Even Primus was sluggish in his mind, and it occurred to him that the creature had no means to feed itself.

I am fine, John.
I am inactive, I can survive a while.
But you need to rest.
Take your own advice.

John managed a smirk before consciousness drifted away.

)0(

Carson chuckled when he returned to find both men fast asleep. Rodney was tangled in his sheets, his face flushed as he mumbled softly in his sleep. John's head hung forward, his legs outstretched, with his booted feet resting on the edge of Rodney's bed. His arms hung over the sides of the chair, and the line in his arm had snagged beneath his elbow. Carson gently lifted John's arm and freed the line, checking that the infusion continued to run. He checked Rodney's medicine pump, noting that the syringe was almost empty, which was fine as he had something to replace it.

When John returned from Ignothia, he was only wearing his trousers and boots. Carson had brought him fresh clothes and taken the old ones to be disposed of. As he held the old trousers, Carson felt an object in one of the side pockets. Checking to see what it was, he found a small earbud case. He was about to put it in his pocket to return later when something niggled at the back of his mind. He put the trousers down and carefully opened the case, hoping that John's earbuds were not inside. They were not, and Carson was overjoyed to find the case full of water.

Ignothian water.

Carson had spent the past few hours working instead of taking the rest John had told him to take. He'd been in one of the laboratories inspecting the water and ensuring it was Ignothian. When the bright green luminance of the contrast dye had lit up bionites beneath the microscope, Carson had physically air punched, which confused the other technicians. Following the same steps as before, he filtered and distilled the water. It only left him with a tiny amount, far smaller than what he had administered to Kerria, but it was all he had and hoped it would be enough. The effect of the bionites on Kerria had been almost immediate, but with so little in Rodney's infusion, Carson didn't expect much to happen right away. He wasn't sure if they would even work in such low numbers, but if they stabilised Rodney, then perhaps he would be well enough to take to Ignothia with the plague victims. He had already spoken with Lorne and the others, asking them to delay the fleet deployment until he knew whether Rodney could join them on the journey.

As the two men slept, Carson opened the medicine pump and swapped out the syringe for one he had prepared earlier. It contained the vital bionites, an antipyretic to reduce Rodney's fever, and a mild sedative to ease his restless movements. After checking Rodney's vitals, Carson decided he could afford a brief rest. Wanting to remain close in case Rodney had another reaction, he fetched a second chair from another room and positioned it at the foot of the bed, where he could monitor both men and the readouts.

Only time would tell, so Carson sat back in his chair and waited.

.

. Cookie comments? :D

Chapter Text

Chapter 45

Teyla sat on a small hill east of the village that overlooked a break in the forest, giving her a clear view of Lake Parnak and beyond. A cool breeze blew through her hair and whispered in her ears as she watched a cycliamar, one of the more beautiful Caronaa insects, take to the sky from the forest. Its bright-coloured wings were reminiscent of an Earth butterfly, but it was equal in size to an Earth albatross. It bumbled through the sky, heading up and over the forest, disappearing into the trees. Teyla sighed, crossing her legs, tugging down her jacket as the breeze chilled her back.

It felt as if they had been on Caronaa for years, but it had only been almost two weeks. In that short time, she had almost lost those most dear to her, and she thought of them now, while breathing in the sweet fresh air. All of them had suffered to varying degrees, and Teya counted herself lucky that her injuries were mostly faded memory, healed by Eldus's children days before. She was left with an ache that she knew would disappear in time, but the others were not so lucky. At this point, two remained in Monuth Hospital, and there had been little word of their condition since the Jumper returned from Ignothia.

She had only glimpsed John when the Jumper landed, his hurried transfer to the Vipen left no time to interact with him. Lorne had tried to reassure her, but until she saw and spoke to John herself, she would remain concerned. She had merely glimpsed him in his passing, and saw a gaunt tightness to his features that belied Lorne's words. Then he was gone, leaving her with so many unanswered questions.

Ronon irately told anyone who asked that he was fine and perfectly well, but Teyla knew he still endured the effects of his injuries and infection. His shattered arm seemed to be a constant pain for him, as she often saw him cover it with his hand as if it might take the pain away. When he thought no one was looking, he even took the medicine that Carson demanded he take, and Teyla was pleased that, so far, she hadn't had to remind him to take them. But the very act showed her how much he struggled, as it was completely unlike him to entertain medicinal remedies.

And then there was Rodney. She worried about him the most. John was clearly worried too, for his haste to get to Monuth was a clear sign of his concern.

The current outlook for Rodney was bleak. When she had visited with him before, Teyla had been overjoyed to see him awake, breathing for himself, and even conversing with her. But a short time after she and Ronon returned to the village, he took the reaction, and his health deteriorated. Teyla lamented leaving him, feared that should they not find a solution in time, it might have been the last time she would ever see him alive. Her heart ached at the thought they might lose him. As the wind teased her hair, she remembered his face behind the oxygen mask, the crinkle of his eyes as he smiled when she said she was glad to see him. She hoped that memory wouldn't be the last one she'd make with Rodney, though Carson's continuing absence and the lack of information from Monuth were discouraging.

A screech came from the direction of the trees, scattering some of the rare Caronaa birds into flight. They flew overhead and Teyla followed their trail across the blue sky, hearing someone approach from behind. The footsteps got louder as the person came nearer, and Teyla knew by the irregular rhythm that it was Ronon, favouring his bruised right side. He stopped behind her, and she heard him take a deep intake of breath, hold it, then exhale.

"You okay?" he asked in his gruff voice.

"I am fine. I merely wished to rest and relax before the upcoming battle."

"Yeah," he walked forward, hunkered beside her, and pulled at the grass at his feet. "This should be the easy part."

"Of that I'm not so sure. Those ships are powerful, and we have such small ships for the fight."

He nodded, pulling a tuft of grass and shredding it between his fingers. "You know of the drooit beetle?"

"It doesn't sound familiar," she replied. "What is it?"

"They're about the size of your smallest fingernail. Yet when provoked, they fight bugs as big as the ones here, and win. Their size doesn't stop them, it helps them. They are agile, manoeuvrable, strong and determined. So are we," he finished, shaking the grass remains from his fingers.

Teyla smiled, liking the analogy, hoping it would be as easy for them. Another cycliamar took to the sky, followed by at least twenty others. They followed the breeze towards the village, and Teyla sighed again.

"Then I hope we will be like the drooit beetle, win this battle, and bring our people home safe."

They were quiet for a time, relaxing in the sun while contemplating the fight ahead. Ronon eventually sat down beside her, grunting as he did so, then cradled his broken arm. Time passed, the breeze died down, and the sun shone pleasantly upon them. Teyla closed her eyes, lifted her face to the light, and said a prayer to the ancestors. She prayed for Rodney, for John, and for Ronon. She prayed for Lorne, and Teldy, for Stackhouse and all who would take flight within the day. She prayed for a victorious outcome and a safe return. When she finished, she dropped her head and opened her eyes, seeing an approaching Vipen coming in over the horizon.

"Did you say one for me?" Ronon asked quietly.

"Of course I did," she smiled. "I said one for us all."

"Have you heard anything about Sheppard and McKay?"

She shook her head as she swept a lock of hair from her eyes. "No, nothing. But as the Earth people say, no news is good news. I imagine we would already have heard if either took a turn for the worse."

Ronnon nodded, dislodged a small stone from the ground and threw it with frustrated force. They watched it disappear into the grass some meters away. "I hope they're okay," he said softly, the words laced with concern that twisted Teyla's stomach.

Her throat constricted, her eyes smarted, and she paused before she spoke for fear her tears would fall and never stop. "I'm sure Doctor Beckett and the people in the hospital are doing their best to help them both."

Ronon didn't reply and continued to poke at the earth and grass, working through his emotions as he usually did in silence and on his own. Teyla reached for his hand and halted his nervous movements. She was mildly surprised when he took her hand and grasped it tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. She squeezed his hand in return, understanding only too well the emotions welling within him, for they matched her own and choked her silent. She leaned against him, placed her head on his shoulder and watched the Vipen approach.

"We will be fine, Ronon. We will all be fine."

She felt Ronon nod his head and blow out another long, drawn-out breath, laden with profound melancholy. "We'll see."

The Vipen roared overhead, its white hull dazzling them as it passed. As it flew towards the village, the engine noise faded, and Teyla heard another set of footfalls approaching.

"I really hope you guys are out here missing me, or this was a helluva wasted effort. And I'm just about all out of effort these days."

The breath in Teyla's chest caught at the sound of the familiar drawl, and she jumped to her feet to see John Sheppard ambling his way up the hillside. Ronon awkwardly stood up before John reached them, his sadness vanishing like smoke in the wind.

"John!" Teyla cried, tears of happiness brimming in her eyes

"Yeah, yeah, come on, get in here," John replied, lifting his arms and beckoning her towards him. A rare display of intimacy, brought on by how close to death he'd come.

Teyla's feet barely touched the ground as she rushed to him, threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He held her, his arms once again strong, crushing her to his chest. She twisted to look back at Ronon, who approached with a grin on his face. He reached out his left hand, and John caught it while still holding Teyla, then pulled Ronon close. The three stood there, uncaring of how it might appear, while completely at ease now that one had returned from death's door.

"God, it's good to see you guys," John said as they broke apart.

"We are pleased to see you, too," Telya said happily. "I trust that you are feeling better?"

"Well, I'm better than I was. Still got a way to go, but at least I'm no longer… thin."

Ronon chuckled at this and slapped John's shoulder. "Yeah, you looked like a stick."

"Ha bloody ha," John replied with a smirk. "And what about you? I hear you were out of action, too."

"Yeah, Groten snapped my arm, got a claw through the forearm…"

Teyla rolled her eyes as the two men launched into a wound competition, each showing the other their injuries and sharing stories of how they came to be. But the sight of the silver scars on John's chest quietened them both, and John pulled his shirt back down with mild embarrassment. "Yeah, they really did a number on me," he said in reply to their stares.

"But you survived," Ronon said.

"Yeah, I survived," John replied.

Teyla detected and worried about the undercurrent of sadness in his words. Ronon appeared to think similarly as he gawked at John, his mouth opened, his eyes widening. John seemed not to notice their reaction, lost in his thoughts for a brief period. When it appeared he wasn't going to say more, Teyla went to ask the question that placed dread in her heart. But John looked at them, and his green eyes spoke of vast trauma and grief. Teyla's heart clenched, and it felt as if a great chasm had opened in her chest, so deep ran the pain.

"He'll make it," John whispered, unable to maintain eye contact. "He's got to make it."

"Oh, Rodney," Teyla said quietly, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Doc says if we could get him to Ignothia, he would have a chance."

"Then we get him there," Ronon growled.

"It's not that simple," John replied, a slight tremble to his voice. "The infection is attacking his organs. He's going into full system failure."

Ronon turned away and cursed angrily. Teyla stood frozen to the spot, unwilling to take her eyes off John.

"Doc managed to get some… Ignothian water into him. But it just wasn't enough. He… he really tried…"

"Can't they put Rodney in a stasis pod as they did with you?" Teyla asked.

"That was discussed before, but the consensus is he wouldn't make it back out of stasis, that stasis itself would kill him."

The wind picked up again, sending chills through Teyla's body. She pulled her jacket close and wrapped her arms around her torso. It made no difference, and she shivered as much from the cold as from her breaking heart.

"But, I might have an idea," John said, and Teyla saw that John had not yet lost hope. There was a fire in his eyes, a glint that gave her hope. "How do you guys feel about taking on a solo run with me and one of the Vipens?"

"Where to?"

"Ignothia."

)0(

Minister Harmen had allocated one more Vipen to the cause because John Sheppard didn't give him the option of refusal. He insisted on being taken to Central City, where he met with the minister, explained his plan, and demanded another Vipen. The minister took umbrage at John's demands, asking how he dared make any at all. And then John pulled his trump card, and by the reaction, he might as well have punched Harmen in the face.

"You would do well, Minister, to allow me this courtesy. If you remember correctly, it was your poor judgment that led to the plague getting out of hand and killing as many as it did. I wonder what your people would think if they knew you pulled the funding for a cure, and that was why you came to us begging for help to fix your mess."

Fifteen minutes later, John, Teyla and Ronon were in the Vipen with an Advanced Bio Sentry, heading out to join the fleet. He had every faith that Lorne and the others knew what they were doing and would get the job done if they could. But for now, John and the others were out of the battle and heading into a new one, to save Rodney.

Time was of the essence, and a vital part of the plan would call on John's expert flying skills. Being the best pilot on Atlantis, he knew the nuances of Puddlejumpers and could shadow them perfectly in almost any flying craft. The plan involved a close flight with one of the Jumpers until they were free of the battle and danger. Teldy had been chosen as the buddy pilot of the Jumper; her skills were second only to John's, so they would make the best flying team.

Once free and out of danger, John would take the Vipen to the chasm, where he knew the most bionite-rich waters of the birthing valley flowed. In the rear of the Vipen was an empty stasis pod. The Sentry, piloted by Fimas's second-in-command, would get the pod into the waters, fill it, then return it to the Vipen. Then John would pilot the craft back to Caronaa and straight to Monuth Hospital, where Carson would be waiting for them. If everything went to plan, Rodney would soon be having an extended soak in the open stasis pod, lounging in the water until he was stable enough to move to Ignothia. It all came down to John's piloting skills, getting them there and back again safely. Lorne had said he would attempt to steer the battle from the Stargate approach so that John could swiftly return to Caronaa.

The three peered out of the Vipen viewport at the fleet surrounding them. They hung in the blackness of space before the orbital Stargate, waiting for their turn to enter the gate. It flashed to life moments before, and two Jumpers had already crossed the even horizon with four Vipens. John and Teldy were next, with John coming in below the Jumper, hoping the craft would provide as much cover as possible for the Vipen. Of course, all this depended on the Groten ships not sitting at the Stargate, ready to shoot them down as soon as they came out the other side. That was a catastrophe that John didn't want to think about as he powered the Vipen forward, nose to tail with Teldy's Jumper. They were above Ignothia in seconds and straight into a battlefield.

Someone had managed to get a lucky shot in as one of the Groten ships was already hurtling through the atmosphere, belching smoke and heading to disintegration. John hoped that they followed the plan to try and keep the Groten ships in one piece, and hoped that this ship had proven too dangerous to allow it to survive. John concentrated on keeping the Vipen below the Jumper, flying the craft mere inches below it.

In his side vision, he picked up the arrival of the other Vipen through the Stargate, and heard Ronon exclaim loudly that the Sentries were launching. This was part of the plan to save the ships. The Sentry would launch from the Vipens onto the Groten ships and gain access, overpower the Groten and steal control of the ships. It was hoped that the Jumpers and Vipens would keep the Groten focused away from the Sentries while they took over. But John couldn't think about all of that, he had to keep his wits about him, stay focused on the Jumper and trust that any harm coming their way would be dealt with by one of the other craft.

An explosion rocked both craft as one of the Groten ships fired the silos in their direction. It almost sent the Vipen careening into the Jumper, but John somehow managed to keep it steady and on course. John was aware of a Vipen heading straight for them and ignored it, confident that the pilot was heading over to cover them from further attack. He was in constant communication with Teldy, and though he felt his mind tiring, he kept going, stamping down on his growing exhaustion with an iron will born from the belief he was Rodney's last and only hope.

Moments passed, and the signs and sounds of the battle faded. He received a final message from Teldy and watched the Jumper pull away to join the others in the fight for Ignothia. John carried on, taking the Vipen over the purple mountain and on toward the chasm. Lorne had detailed the map for him, having flown the path for John's own rescue. John followed it to the millimeter, coming down on the chasm within a few minutes.

He landed the Vipen in almost the exact spot Lorne had parked the Jumper the day previously. The Sentry exited the Vipen and, with help from Ronon, maneuvered the stasis pod out onto the grass. John sagged back in the pilot's chair. His head rolled, and thoughts swam, his eyes threatening to close. Teyla climbed up beside him, tapped his cheek to waken him and offered him a drink from his canteen. This was also part of the plan. He knew he was in no real fit state to be out here, flying in the middle of a battle. His resilience was low, he tired far too easily, and exhaustion threatened at every moment. An iron will could only take him so far, so he'd had Carson make him up a canteen full of strong stimulants. Carson was understandably concerned by this, stating that with the changes his body had gone through recently, the last thing he should be doing was placing it under stimulant stress.

"It's for Rodney," John had replied, and Carson instantly caved to the demand, more aware than anyone what was at stake.

While it didn't have the same effect as the jab to the thigh Carson gave him before he left, the concoction did the trick and John straightened in the seat, pulled his wits together and thanked Teyla. As the Sentry took the pod down to the water, Ronon stood guard at the rear of the Vipen. Overhead came booms and flashes, the battle heating up as they waited.

"Do you truly think this will work?" Teyla asked as she offered him the canteen again.

"We can't go home without him, Teyla," John replied despairingly. "He's my brother."

"And mine," she replied with a soft smile. "So we will take him home, no matter what."

"No matter what," he agreed and watched for the Sentry returning.

As he waited, John thought back a few hours to when he had left Rodney. He hadn't been sure whether to say goodbye for now or goodbye forever, and by the time he had decided, Rodney had already failed and was unconscious. The fever, the nightmares, everything just seemed to stop, and Rodney lay there, still as nothing alive should be. Alarms had screamed, monitors flashed, people ran into the room, and John had been pushed out into the corridor to stand alone. When Carson eventually broke the news, John's heart shattered. He'd lost people in the past, but no one he considered family, not like Rodney. John was estranged from his family, and meetings with his blood brother were laden with guilt and animosity. But with Rodney, it was easy, it was the way it should be with siblings. So of course it hurt him, damn near killed him to hear Rodney was so close to death.

He swallowed hard as he caught sight of the Sentry coming up out of the chasm. Two of its four arms were behind it, grasping the heavy pod on its back. The other two gripped the solid rock and heaved the Advanced Bio from the chasm. The weight of the now-filled pod slowed its progress, and John repeated the words "come on" over and over again as he watched it lumber slowly to the rear of the Vipen.

Ronon jumped into his seat as John took a final swig from the canteen. Teyla made sure he drank all of it, as eager as he was to keep him awake for the return journey. The Sentry pulled the pod into the rear and closed the hatch, and as soon as it clanged shut, John hit the throttle. The Vipen soared into the sky, heading right towards the Stargate. John didn't shift his eyes from the goal, ignoring the noise and sights and flashes around him as he kept the Vipen on a straight path up. A huge jagged piece of red mottled metal came in from the left and narrowly missed colliding with the Vipen, and still John didn't react, trusting the others to keep his path clear.

"Sorry about that," Lorne said over the Vipen com. "Bastard was heading right for you. Path is clear now, good luck, Sir."

John hit the combination to activate the Gate and was over the event horizon just as it completed its cycle. Within seconds, they were above Caronaa, and John immediately put a call out to Monuth for Carson. By the time they landed in front of the hospital, Carson and Rella were at the doors awaiting their arrival.

John's hands trembled as he shut down the engines and opened the rear hatch. His hands slipped from the control panel, and he took a ragged breath as he slumped in the pilot seat, his head lolling uncontrolled to the side. Stimulants provide a temporary boost to strength and energy, but often leave the user more exhausted afterward, which is what John was experiencing: a massive come down from the huge dose. The thought processes he'd employed to make the run to Ignothia, flying so close to Teldy, ignoring things around him when his mind was screaming of the danger, drained his strength completely. He tried his best to keep his eyes open, willed his body to get out of the seat and walk into the hospital. But his energy was spent, his body weak, and he was so tired he could barely even breathe. Unable to move, he could only watch Teyla through his half-shut eyes, and she was speaking to someone, pointing at him, then behind him, orchestrating something.

Moments later, strong arms pushed beneath his and pulled him from the pilot's seat into a wheelchair. He didn't even have the energy to feel angry about the indignity. His head fell forward, its weight tugging his upper body forward until the person pushing the wheelchair held his shoulder and pulled him upright again. The hand stayed there as the person wheeled him along. Through his eyelids, the bright sunlight turned to the dim light of the hospital interior, the usually busy area quiet and subdued. Things started to fade from his mind until he was lifted from the chair and laid flat on a bed some minutes later. A cover was pulled over him as his head was laid on a pillow so soft it felt like nothing but air. As his mind shut down, a warm hand took his, slender fingers closing around his own.

"You did all you could, John," Teyla said gently. "Now, we must wait and trust Carson. Sleep. I will wake you up when there is news."

He tried to reply, but his words disappeared in a haze of lethargy as his eyes finally closed and he was asleep within seconds.

..

..
.. OMG feed meh cookies! The Dragon is hungry!

Chapter Text

Chapter 46

When the attack began, the fleet was in the process of a scheduled crew rotation between ships. Groten often erupted in violence when too many were cooped up together for long periods. Rotations mixed crews between ships, leading to a more harmonious life in the Groten vessels, lessening the violence and fighting that would otherwise destroy the fleet from within. It was well known that when rotations were missed, it generated psychosis that led Groten to attack anything around them, often killing each other without fully realising what they were doing. Groten were not social animals, and as a result, spacefaring was a dangerous profession for them. The psychosis was why the war between them and the enormous Ghanti had gone on for so long, as the behemoth enemy territories encroached on Groten land, leaving thousands of villages and cities on their home planet filled with psychotic Groten.

The rotation was almost halfway complete when the attack began. One of the white darts had shot from the Stargate and fired upon the corridor which was facilitating the transfer, connecting two Groten ships. One ship burned up in the atmosphere, while the other was incapacitated, dead in space. The remaining ships continued to fight it out with the small craft that had quickly become the bane of Sik'tak's existence. Many lives were lost, and now they battled to save those who remained.

Sik'tak watched the tiny ships tearing holes in the hulls of his fleet. The white darts were relentless, firing mercilessly on the Groten ships while running circles around them. He snarled an order at Drurig to launch the silos, trigger the Sonosfire, to do something to end the surprise attack. The Sonosfire blared out from Sik'tak's ship, and he watched with satisfaction as one of the white craft shook itself apart. It vibrated in the air as it swooped in close, the hull tearing and pulling apart until the insides fell away, taking the strange creatures within down to their deaths. He ordered the launch of scout ships to deal with the darts, but even these had difficulty dealing with the speedy little craft.

The white crafts launched machines, but there was something else going on, as Sik'tak had occasionally witnessed the sudden appearance of machines in mid-air, which then navigated to land on his ships. He'd seen this two times now, and while he didn't understand how they were doing it, he fully understood the aim of their mission. These machines, some red, some blue, tore into the hulls of the fleet and burrowed inside. Sik'tak heard the communications from around the fleet of the machines carving up his people.

So far, none of the machines had reached his ship, though they had tried. He'd already watched three hit by the Sonosfire, standing no chance of survival. These machines burst into clouds of debris and red mist, destroyed within seconds. More machines launched from the white craft, and still more appeared mid-air to join the fight. He instructed Drurig to run a sweep with the low-yield scanner, thinking of the anomaly seen before near the Stargate. Sure enough, Drurig reported three anomalies flying unseen among the white darts. The killing machines were merely launching from these hidden ships, not suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Sik'tak was impressed; such technology would be useful to his fleet, and so he ordered Drurig to hone in on one of the invisible craft so that they might capture it to study once the battle was over. It took longer than expected to capture the highly maneuverable craft, but once in the capture net normally used to harvest the Goh, Sik'tak moved his ship back into space, dragging the small craft away from the battle and any help it may ask for.

)0(

The main control panel in the rear of the Jumper sparked and hissed, and instruments screamed as Stackhouse attempted to throttle out of the Groten ship's grip. The Jumper shook and bucked but couldn't break free, pulled ever upward toward the vessel above. He peered warily up at the underbelly of the massive ship, feeling more than a little concerned.

"The hell are you doing, Stackhouse?!" Lorne's angry shout burst in the com "I said no solo missions!"

"I'm not doing this on purpose! The thing has some kind of electrical net around the craft. I can't break out!"

"What do we do?" Forest asked as he leaned closer to the viewport to gaze upward.

"Keep the cloak up, keep the shields running, and hope we get out of this," Stackhouse replied as he tried everything to get the Jumper free. "Stevens, see if you can get us more power!" He shouted to the scientist working on the smoking control panel.

The three Jumpers transported five biosuited Caronaan warriors each and one huge Sentry that sat curled up in the hatchway. There was hardly any room left in the rear of the Jumper, save some space for Stevens. The crew ran the mission with three Atlanteans to make room for the giant machines, and two warriors were dropped at a time, spreading the biosuited warriors around the Groten fleet.

Barna clanged the three-fingered hands of his biosuit together. "We can attack from inside," he said, looking to the Sentry curled up in the hatchway, its pilot, Colis, already getting into the suit. "This is the biggest ship, so three of us and Colis will head inside. Orna and Stia will stay with you."

"We open the hatch to a ship full of Groten, we're all dead," Forest said.

"We don't take a chance, we're all dead anyway," Stackhouse replied grimly. "No one's coming to help us, they have problems of their own. At least the four warriors have a chance to gain control."

The Jumper came to a halt inside the belly of the Groten ship. Several huge Groten milled around, sniffing and bobbing warily around the invisible craft. One reached out a paw and pulled back with a roar as it came into contact with the shield, prompting the others to attack the Jumper. Getting the same result as the first, the Groten became violent, throwing themselves at the Jumper and bouncing off the shield in enraged perplexity.

"How fast can you guys get out once I open the hatch?"

"I can roll the suit out," Colis said from within the Advanced Bio. "That will save time."

"I believe the havoc we will create will give you a chance to get free of the ship," Barna said, flexing his mechanical hands. "Don't wait for us, Fer Stackhouse, our suits will protect us. If that net loses its hold on the Jumper, get out of here."

Stackhouse kept his eyes on the Groten. They were moving towards the front of the Jumper, and as they all converged before the viewport, he told the Caronaans to get ready. He gave the command and opened the hatch, with the mechanism seeming to take forever to fully open. The Groten bobbed up and down, trying to figure out what the noise was, and one moved hesitantly down the side of the Jumper, just as Colis rolled outside.

Carnage ensued as the Sentry went to work, tearing limbs from the screaming Groten as Barna and the two other warriors headed out. Stackhouse closed the Jumper hatch as all Groten moved to help their fallen comrade. The hatch locked shut, and Stackhouse breathed a sigh of relief; they were safe for now. He and Forest watched the biosuits move through the hangar bay, ripping into anything that came their way. The red Sentry, being larger and stronger, easily cut down Groten after Groten. The smaller warriors did well to keep up with it, being more agile and fast. They moved continually, making their way through the hangar and clearing it of the beasts, then moving on into the corridor. They disappeared deeper into the ship, leaving the Atlanteans and remaining Caronaa warriors alone in the hangar bay.

"What now?" Forest asked, climbing into the co-pilot seat and staring wide-eyed out the viewport.

"I don't plan on hanging around for more of those animals to come our way. I assume the beam that caught us terminated once it brought us inside. So, I'm thinking of firing some drones and getting the hell out of here."

"Wait, let me look for weaknesses in the mechanisms," Stevens said, walking into the cockpit. "If there is a— yes, that one, right there," he said, pointing at a panel with multiple cables snaking from it. "That looks like a main power node, take that out and maybe we'll have a chance."

Stevens returned to the control panel as Stackhouse maneuvered the Jumper within the hangar bay. It was a tight squeeze, but the hangar was big enough to allow for some movement.

"Alright, here's hoping this works," he said as he fired a drone at the panel.

The drone blew a hole right through the panel and the hangar wall, and Stackhouse pulled the Jumper upward just as the hangar bay doors dropped. They didn't fully open, but another drone quickly took care of them, then Stackhouse dropped the Jumper out into space.

)0(

Alarms screamed in the bridge of the Groten lead ship, and Sik'tak roared with fury. The hangar doors were damaged, their catch escaping, leaving his hangar open to the vacuum of space. The scout ships would be unable to return, and the capture net was no longer functioning. His vessel was in pieces, and he was enraged. He ordered the entire fleet to go after that one invisible craft, instructing them to use the low-yield scanner to find it and blow it out of the sky. Drurig reset the shields so they could safely re-enter the atmosphere and join the fight, but the speakers in the coms unit burst to life, and from all over the ship, they heard deafening cries. Sik'tak listened to the dying screeches and roars of pain, heard still more in the corridor outside, and his rage grew.

The machines had made it into his ship.

Sik'tak screamed at Drurig to close the door to the bridge, but it was too late. A blue machine came barreling from the corridor, splashes of black, Groten blood marring its smooth metal surfaces. It moved so fast that Sik'tak had no time to react as it attacked Drurig and ripped his head from his neck. The machine then turned to Sik'tak, who bellowed with rage and ran towards it. He roared and pulled at an arm of the infernal machine as it gouged his body with cruel metal hands. He tore the arm away and threw it at the machine, furious at the carnage it was causing.

The machine leaped at him, using its remaining arm to grasp his massive head. Having seen the same tactic used on Drurig, Sik'tak headbutted the machine twice, hoping to smash the little window on the front. He was sure something lurked behind that dark rectangle, convinced that the machine did not act alone. Inside the confines of the bridge, he found it challenging to utilize his full strength, as the limited space prevented him from fully engaging his body in the fight. He pushed at the machine, hoping to get it out into a space that he might unfold his complicated body and use his full strength to tear it to pieces. But the machine was unforgiving, and Sik'tak began to fall under its crushing blows.

Sik'tak pulled and pushed at the machine, edging it into the corridor with its high ceiling and open space. One step out into it, Siknak unfolded his body and unfurled the slabs of muscle that twisted around his frame. He now towered above the machine, and viciously bit at it, his long teeth puncturing a hole in its white dome. He heard a cry from within, confirming his belief that the machine was controlled, and he put a massive claw to the hole and tore the machine's top apart. A small creature looked out at him from within, barely any hair upon its body, save for the dark hair atop its head. It was a strange creature, small in stature, weak in presentation, and it was little wonder it used a machine to fight its battles. Its eyes were wide with fright as Sik'tak pulled back and then rushed forward, grabbing the head of the creature between his massive teeth and slowly pulling it from its body as it had Drurig. The creature screamed and writhed, the machine that held it having conniptions as the signals from its master fired rapidly through its system. Sik'tak took his time, listening to and enjoying the screams that echoed in his mouth as he slowly closed his bite.

The machine stilled, the screams stopped, and Sik'tak lapped at the fluid that burst forth. He threw the damned thing to the side and stomped further into the corridor, searching for whatever else was attacking his crew. Groten bodies lay scattered around, and another machine was there, tearing his crew to pieces. This machine was different to the last, larger, red in colour, with four powerful arms that it used to rip and tear his crew apart. Sik'tak roared with fury as it ripped an arm off one of his closest guards, its screams of pain deafening. He rushed at the red machine, screeching with fury as it threw the torn arm to the side and turned to face him.

Sik'tak never got within striking distance. The machine doubled over, and from its spine opened a curl in the metal, unleashing a salvo of tiny projectiles that peppered his body with accuracy. He floundered in his step, tripping over a body and falling to the blood-soaked floor. The machine stalked close, its four arms reaching for him. But he wouldn't go so easily. He took a breath and pushed the pain from his mind, getting to his feet and moving so quickly that the machine barely twitched by the time he was upon it. He pulled and grabbed, slashed and bit and for a time it seemed he would defeat it. But this machine was far more robust than the last and controlled with an expert technique, which saw Sik'tak's leg break in two. He fell again, and this time he didn't get up. Whatever had been in the machine's projectiles, it started to work on him now. Sik'tak fell forward, slumping over the spine of one of his dead comrades and closed his eyes.

)0(

It seemed like every ship in the sky was after them, and Stackhouse couldn't understand how they could see his Jumper. Scout ships roared after him, proving difficult to shake, and the larger vessels fired at him as they flew past.

"You sure did piss them off," Lorne said over the com.

"Taking on the lead ship usually does," he replied, narrowly missing a Vipen that swooped in front. "Reckon our cover is blown somehow."

"Yep, I think so. They've been coming for us too."

Stackhouse brought the Jumper around as they neared one of the purple mountains, and as he straightened out, one of the larger ships triggered its Sonsofire. It was instant pain and confusion. The sound felt like a physical smash to the entire body, and all three unsuited humans clamped their hands over their ears. No matter how tight they held their hands, they could still hear the sound just as loud, and it smashed at their bodies relentlessly, making their skin and bones vibrate. Orna and Stia, trapped in the biosuits and unable to cover their ears, shut down the suits' external mics, but still the sound hit them. The suits rattled and resonated with the sound, and they suffered terribly. The Jumper juddered and creaked, parts shook from moorings and fittings, panels sparked, and the engines cut out. There was a moment of nauseating free fall, and their stomachs twisted as the Jumper went into a nose dive.

Stevens was screaming, Forest's mouth was open, but nothing was coming out, and Stackhouse folded over, unable to help them as he cried out in pain. Their minds were scrambled, their bodies contorting, and the Jumper continued its rapid descent towards a sea of long, yellow grass and tall orange trees. It sure did look pretty, but hitting that ground was a death sentence for all.

"Stackhouse, pull up!" Lorne screamed as the Jumper fell. "Damnit, Stackhouse!"

He could hear Lorne's panicked voice, but Stackhouse couldn't do anything. His thoughts were scattered, and he barely knew whose voice it was he could hear. He tried to lift his head, but when he did, it made him ill, and his mind stalled.

"BOYAN! PULL UP!"

Hearing his first name being screamed so loudly through the com in his ear was enough to pull Stackhouse from his confusion. He looked out the viewport and saw the Ignothian landscape rushing to meet them. He tried to gather his thoughts and instruct the Jumper, but he could only concentrate on the awful noise that felt like it might liquify his insides. He saw Forest suddenly slump over the console, bleeding from the ears and nose, his eyes rolled back in their sockets. The sight kick-started Stackhouse's brain. The engines fired to life, and the Jumper came alive at his determined thoughts. The craft struggled to pull up, and he was sure it was too late and they wouldn't make it. But then it pulled free of its downward trajectory and swooped upward, skimming the face of a purple cliff as it reached for the sky. The sound from the Sonosfire faded as the Jumper rose, and Stackhouse could hear Stevens coughing in the back.

"Get up here and check Forest," he shouted. "I'm not sure he's breathing."

Stevens stepped into the cockpit and pulled Forest back in his seat. The man groaned and stirred a little, much to both men's relief.

Stevens belted him to the seat so he didn't fall. "He's fine, just knocked out."

"You guys okay?"

"We're fine, the Jumper's in a bit of a mess, though."

"I just heard from Colis. He has control of the lead ship and the head Groten."

"I knew they could do it."

There was a brief pause and then, "Barna didn't make it."

The smile died on Stackhouse's lips. "Co—copy that," he said after a while.

He didn't know what else to say. Barna had been a loyal ally, a strong and capable warrior and while he didn't know the man well, Stackhouse respected him. He was sorry that he didn't survive the Groten ship, and it made Stackhouse mad enough to turn the Jumper towards a scout ship and fire upon it. The drone hit the small craft right in the viewport. Any Groten inside were long dead before the craft hit the side of the mountain. Stackhouse carried on, a fire blazing in his chest as he sought the next target.

)0(

Lorne had been friends with Stackhouse since before the start of the expedition, and losing him would mean losing his best friend. He'd followed the path of the stricken Jumper, wishing there was a way that he could help pull it out of its death dive. He was relieved when Stackhouse finally gained control and pulled up. From his right, a Groten scout ship approached, firing bright blue flashes towards him that he struggled to stay clear of. He'd seen a Vipen hit with the strange weapon, and it split the craft in two. Only the three Jumpers and five Vipen remained; the others were destroyed in the battle. But Lorne was glad to hear when the final Groten ship fell under their control.

However, the scout ships remained dangerous, relentlessly attacking all remaining Vipens and Jumpers. If they succeeded in destroying the last crafts, the Groten in the scout ships would likely return to control the Groten vessels, leading to a disastrous failure of their mission. All of the Jumpers were out of drones and unable to fire on the enemy. Therefore, Lorne devised a plan that involved, of all things, playing a game of chicken. He instructed the remaining fleet to partner up and deliberately get pursued by scout ships, then fly head-on to their partner. He teamed up with Teldy, while Stackhouse paired with one of the Vipens. There were hair-raising moments when he thought he'd made a mistake with the plan, times when the two partnered ships almost collided, veering away at the very last second. For the most part, the plan worked, and before the Groten wisened up to the ploy, many broken scout ships plummeted from the sky. Biosuited warriors were deployed to seize control of the remaining scout ships. When the battle finally ended, they had not only retaken four Groten Titans but also captured seven Groten Piors—an outcome Lorne considered a successful mission.

With the battle over, all that remained was transporting the captains and Head Groten back to Ignothia for implanting, which wouldn't be without risk. But as long as the Sentry kept them subdued with their tranquilliser darts, it should be safe enough.

He hoped.

.

... cookies please!

Chapter Text

Chapter 47

It was so dark that Rodney didn't know if his eyes were open or closed. He was cold, sore and alone in the persistent darkness, and more than a little frightened. He'd tried a few times to move but gave up when pain flared in his side and so fell into a silent stupor that seemed to go on forever. He felt like he was floating, not one part of him appeared to touch anything. It was an unnerving sensation that Rodney tried hard not to think about.

Occasionally, he heard what he thought were voices, but the sounds were muffled, distorted, and he could hear no discernible words. A low humming noise droned endlessly, driving him insane as it vibrated around him, causing an unending itch to his skin. The air he breathed was warm, the only warmth he could feel. It tasted synthetic, sterile, and unpleasant. The strange air dried out his nose and mouth, leaving him feeling thirsty.

Something touched his right arm. Rodney gasped in fright while attempting to move from the sensation. It touched him again, lingering on his arm, poking at it, and he couldn't stop the cry that escaped his mouth. It sounded wrong in his ears, as if his ears were full of fluid and everything echoed in the stillness around him. He heard his breathing, his heartbeat, and both deafened him.

He felt suddenly claustrophobic, as if surrounded by walls that moved to crush him. The unnerving feeling only increased with time until he could hardly breathe. He panicked, and thrashed wildly in the void, weakening with every frightened twist. Then he felt something press to his neck, and everything faded out and he was gone again, back into that dark and lonely stillness.

)0(

John paced back and forth in Rodney's hospital bay, anger coursing through him. He watched as Rella and Kasla held Rodney firmly in the stasis pod while he contorted and sloshed water over the sides. This was the fourth time he'd had to watch his friend struggle in an hour.

"How many times are you gonna make him go through that before you get the formula right?" he snapped.

"We've adjusted the sedative several times, but he's still burning through it too fast," Rella replied as Rodney quietened. "We're doing our best here, Fer Sheppard. If we give him too much, it will kill him faster than the sepsis."

John's jaw tightened, but he nodded, still furious at having to watch Rodney fight for his life in such a manner. It was bad enough that Rodney hadn't shown much improvement since being placed in the stasis pod, but having to watch his agitated fluctuations was appalling. Every time they thought he'd stabilised, Rodney threw a curveball in one form or another.

The first time he showed signs of waking from the sedation, his heart rate increased to dangerous levels. The second time, he'd struggled to breathe, and he required temporary ventilation. The third time saw his body under so much stress that he had suffered a minor seizure that worried all who watched on. The doctors spoke of Rodney possibly reacting to the Ignothian water, and John almost laughed at the absurdity of the claim. Then again, Rodney had many allergies that John once thought were down to his hypochondria until he witnessed many of the reactions himself first hand.

But this time, Rodeny's wakening didn't come with a medical emergency, so John had to hope that was a good sign. For now, Rodney was at peace again and sank below the Ignothian water once more. Despite this, John continued his tense pacing back and forth until Teyla laid a hand on his arm and stopped him.

"Please sit, John," she said firmly. "You need to calm down and rest."

"I've had my fill of resting." He pulled his arm free and paced again. "And you're seeing the same thing I am, so how the hell can I calm down?"

"Because if you don't, I'll tie you to the chair," Ronon warned, and when John looked at him, he saw that he meant it.

"Every time I sit down, I fall asleep," he said sullenly.

"And every time you don't sit down, you collapse," Teyla reminded him.

With an infuriated groan, John threw himself into the chair. He was bone-tired and knew that was partly to blame for his mood. He surreptitiously glanced at Ronon, then Teyla and felt foolish at his temper tantrum. They were just as concerned for Rodney as he was; he could see it in their eyes and the tightness of their features.

But then, John also worried about someone else.

Primus had stopped all communication, and John couldn't feel its presence in his mind anymore. He occasionally forgot it was in him, and then it would move, just a tiny fluttering in his neck that reminded him Primus was there. The creature had not eaten since John was in the birthing valley, so John was sure it was starving. It was after he told it to eat that communication had stopped. He'd sensed alarm and anger from the tiny being, and thought, perhaps, the offer of his flesh as a delicacy had offended the creature. Whatever was wrong, John was concerned for its wellbeing, and waited for Carson's arrival to discuss the matter.

His anger dissipated, and he sat there lost in his thoughts, not noticing his eyes were slowly closing. When they finally closed, he fell instantly asleep.

)0(

Rodney's mind meandered while lost in the darkness that filled his entire universe. His thoughts were like stars in that universe, flickering points of interest so vastly disconnected that none quite managed to link to another. The constant background humming was the only sound he heard, and while it irritated him, its consistency held some meaning for him. It signified that he wasn't alone in this dark universe, that there was something else here; otherwise, where did the noise come from? The itching it made on his skin was another point of interest, for it told him that he still had a body and wasn't just a ball of thought wandering through time and space. He was no longer fearful, as with every moment that passed in this awakening, he began to understand there was nothing in or around him that would harm him.

It took a long time for Rodney to notice that his lonely struggle was improving. The constant pain no longer felt like the crushing agony it once did. Instead, it began to ground him, reminding him that he was real, not some disembodied mind. He could see light coming through his eyelids, knowing now that his eyes had been closed all along. It was easier to breathe, easier to think. Thoughts began to form into meaningful threads, and with this came an understanding of where he might be.

He could feel the mask on his face now, pumping the stale air into his lungs. He moved his right arm, sensing the faint resistance, realised he was submerged in water, and began to panic. His arm gently brushed against something solid, confirming that he wasn't in open water. His brief panic quickly faded, as did thoughts of being at the bottom of a sea. He wondered why he would imagine such a thing, and then it came to him, in a flash of images which turned into a steady flood of remembrance that threatened to drown him. John dying, birthing valleys, Goh, Groten, Teyla and Ronon injured, unending pain in his side and his arm, terrible nightmares, burning fever, and—

Oh God, I'm alive!

)0(

Teyla smiled softly at the sound of John's quiet snoring. She knew he would be furious when he woke up. John didn't like giving in to weakness, even if said weakness was out of his control. His ongoing healing would take more time than John was willing to admit, and his irritation with everyone around him was simply a side effect of his wish to be healthy again and in full control of his body. She hoped that once they returned to Atlantis, he would take better care of himself and finally allow his body the rest it urgently needed.

She looked to Ronon, expecting him to be asleep also, but he sat gazing at the light in the ceiling with a strained expression. He gripped his splinted arm, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. His left leg jumped in uncontrolled spasms, making his body tremble. Teyla rolled her eyes and shook her head, wondering why she was surrounded by such obstinate men who vexed her.

"I think we should go find one of the nurses," she said quietly, getting to her feet.

"I'm—"

"Fine?" she interjected sharply. "You have said that at least a hundred times since we got here, when clearly, you are not."

He eyed her venemously and said through gritted teeth, "I am fine."

"Keep your voice down," she hushed, glancing at John, who continued to sleep peacefully. "I will go find a nurse."

"No," he said and pushed up from his chair. "I'll go myself."

Teyla didn't buy it. "Then we will both go," she replied, earning herself a blazing glare. "It's not that I don't believe you, it's…"

"That you don't believe me," he grumbled sourly.

"Yes," she smiled and hooked her arm in his as they walked out into the corridor. "I know you well, Ronon, and your ways."

"Too well," He growled. "But… thanks…"

"For what?"

"Always looking out for me. For all of us."

Teyla didn't reply, just smiled and continued walking. While the three men exasperated her at times, she loved them dearly, even their frustrating ways.

)0(

Rodney opened his eyes, his view blurred by the water he was submerged in. He'd floated there a while, coming back to reality and concluding that he must be on Caronaa, in Monuth Hospital. Above him was a light, and he could look at it without wincing, which he knew he couldn't do before. The punishing pain that had wracked his body until he wept was no longer the raw, gnawing sensation it once had been. With every breath and heartbeat, he felt the pain as a powerful throbbing, and he could deal with that if he lay still. When he moved, the agony erupted, so he stayed as still as possible while regaining his senses.

Over time, even the agony faded, until he felt confident he would be able to move without screaming the place down. He attempted a few tentative movements and found his left arm still burned fiercely and felt as if it were strapped to his body. He remembered the Groten smashing his biosuit and tearing up his arm. The memory flowed through his mind in a strange strobing effect, most likely due to his brain not wishing to revisit the horror.

He reached for the solid wall to his side and felt up until his fingers curled over the edge. He gripped the edge and pulled, but his side became a blazing fire and he let go, sucking in breaths through the mask until it subsided. There was no memory for that injury, no recall of whatever event caused the blinding pain. He racked his brain to fill the gap in his memory, but nothing came to mind that would account for such agony. He soon drifted off, his mind wandering again. The light above him faded as he was pulled back to sleep.

)0(

Carson stepped into the room, smiling and ready for a conversation, but soon quietened when he saw John alone and asleep. He didn't worry that Ronon was gone, sure that Teyla would be with him and keeping an eye on him. So he lifted one of two folders from the bedside table and read the latest readouts. It appeared that John was doing very well. His latest observations read as normal, and the blood Carson had sent for testing showed very little to be concerned about. The man just needed rest and a few good meals, and Carson was determined he would get both once he had him safely back in Atlantis.

He lifted the second folder, checking how Rodney was faring. His readouts were improving, showing that the water was doing what he'd hoped. His frequent wound checks showed limited regeneration around his wounds. Carson had hoped for more, but he took what he could get, considering how near death Rodney had come. On a more positive note, his temperature was dropping, and the fever had finally broken. His blood tests showed that his infection markers were falling, indicating that sepsis was no longer a threat and that Rodney was well on his way to recovery.

Carson marveled at the positive effects bionites had on the human body. He hoped to take some Ignothian water back to Atlantis for further study, believing that it could be an all-round miracle cure for most, if not all, human ailments and conditions. It could be the holy grail, and Carson was beyond excited to share the discovery with his fellow medical professionals in time.

But that was for later once everyone was back home, safe and well. For now, he continued monitoring John and Rodney's conditions, delighted to know that his friends were finally out of harm's reach and would continue to be in his life for the foreseeable future.

He left the bay and made his way to the labs, planning to carry out testing on the bionites to kill time between his checks.

)0(

This time, Rodney felt ready. His mind was clear, he knew exactly where he was and mostly understood why. Breathing was easy, and his heartbeat felt regular. Pain was still a constant companion, but it was merely an intense aching in his side, like a stitch caused by strenuous exercise. He stared at the light through the water, willing himself to attempt to sit again. He gripped the edge of the stasis pod wall, pausing to take a few deep breaths before he committed to the attempt and pulled himself out of the water. Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, he sucked in a breath when a stabbing pain shot through his abdomen. He closed his eyes again and breathed through the pain until it subsided, relieved that it wasn't half as bad as he feared it would be. He let go of the pod side, tugged the mask from his face and looked around.

He was in the same room as before, but it had been cleared out to make room for the stasis pod. He scanned the room, his gaze coming to rest on the form of John Sheppard. He sat in a chair right beside the pod, his legs crossed before him, his head laid back and to the side facing Rodney. His left arm hung loosely over the side of the chair, while his right rested on the edge of the pod.

Seeing him sitting there brought back flashes of memories from before, in which John had helped him through his fever and nightmares. He remembered waking at some point and John not being there, so Rodney had been convinced he'd imagined all of it, sure that John wasn't even on the same planet as him, even though they'd had a detailed conversation. Yet, John sat in the same chair beside him, real and not imagined, still supporting him just by being there.

The last time Rodney had seen him properly, and not through fevered sight, John had been lying in the makeshift bed in the village barn, just skin and bone, fading away to nothing. Rodney remembered watching his deterioration, and there hadn't been much hope in him that John would ever return from Ignothia. To look at him now, someone who didn't know John would think nothing had happened to him. But, Rodney could see the toll his affliction had taken. He could see it in the dark circles under his eyes and the way his shirt hung loosely over his body. It was in the way he breathed—carefully, even in sleep—and the faint wheeze that rattled with each exhale. But Rodney was overjoyed to see him even in this uncharacteristic weakened state, sleeping, breathing, alive.

Against the overwhelming odds, they had made it.

An alarm sounded somewhere out in the main body of the ward, a steady buzzing that went on for some minutes. John stirred, his eyes fluttering open, bleary and tired. When they focused on Rodney, John blinked in confusion, his brows knitted, and then he grinned and quickly pulled himself up in the chair.

"Rodney!" he exclaimed. "Sleeping beauty has finally woken!"

Rodney chuckled, pleased to see that John hadn't lost any of his cocky attitude nor the cheeky glint to his eyes. "Hey, John," he replied. "It's really good to see you."

"Yeah, well, you didn't think you were getting rid of me that easy, did you?"

There was something in his eyes, a sadness Rodney had never witnessed there before. It was in the shadow of his intense gaze, a fear that Rodney recognised only too well, for he felt it himself. It was an echo of what they'd been through and how they'd felt watching the other suffer and slip away: powerless, helpless, and consumed by deep, desperate sorrow.

"I.. I didn't think… " Rodney looked away as a multitude of overpowering emotions welled within him, both positive and negative. He was almost ashamed when his eyes welled and the remaining words caught in his throat and seemed to burn there as a shudder ran through him.

John reached forward and grabbed his hand and gripped it tight. "No, we are not going there, Rodney. Not today, okay? Maybe not ever," he said, holding Rodney's gaze, anguish evident in his stare and voice. "We're alive, and that's something to celebrate."

Rodney nodded, gulping down the burning feeling in his throat as a quiet and nervous laughter bubbled from him. "Tell me… whose turn is it to save who? I've lost count."

"I'd say we're even, and I think we should call that quits for a while, don't you?"

"I have to agree with you there," Carson said, grinning like an idiot as he leaned against the doorway. "I think you two should definitely take a break from those shenanigans."

"Oh, hey, doc," John drawled, leaning back in his chair again, as Rodney fidgeted uncomfortably in the pod.

"I see you are both awake at the same time. Quite a rare occurrence these days," he joked, stepping into the room to sit on the chair Teyla had sat before. "And by the look of things, maybe we don't need to fly you off to Ignothia any time soon!"

"Ah, but you need to visit the place," John said. "They have a pretty cool waterpark, and one helluva ride."

"Um, Carson?" Rodney raised his hand. "When can I get out of this thing? I'm completely waterlogged, and I think I might actually be allergic to this stuff… Did you even test it before you put me in?"

Carson screwed up his face, his cheeks turning red as he flustered, "Allergic? Are you bloody kidding me?"

Rodney couldn't hold his laughter in; it was just too easy to wind up Carson, after all, it was one of his favourite pastimes.

"Och, away you go you wee bugger," Carson repied with a chuckle.

Soon, the three of them were laughing and joking, their worries and fears forgotten for a brief time, and Rodney sat there, soaking, cold, uncomfortable and a little embarrassed, yet he couldn't have been happier than he was right at that moment.

.
.feed meh! :D

Chapter Text

Chapter 48

Carson rubbed his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled slowly. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with the bionites. Once he had ensured Rodney's safe placement in the stasis pod, Carson returned to the labs to continue his work on the Ignothian microorganism. It was now night on the second day, and he continued to work into the dark hours, staring down the lens of a microscope.

He'd taken a sample from the stasis pod when it arrived and another from one of the contaminated Goh tanks. Both samples were packed with millions of the little things, but as time passed, the ones from the stasis pod began to slow down. He took the occasional break to check up on how Rodney and John were faring, while ensuring that the slowing down he saw in the samples did not also occur in the pod, placing Rodney at risk.

It became clear early on that the water wasn't having the same effect on Rodney as it had on John. Rodney's progress was slow. His wounds, though healing, were not knitting together as fast as Carson would have thought or liked. He frequently checked on Rodney, and was never so glad as to walk in and find him talking with John on his last visit. He was pleased to see his friend breathing, smiling, and was even happy to hear him complaining. But still, Carson knew something was wrong. Both men tired easily, which was to be expected. However, Rodney seemed excessively exhausted compared to John. Once out of the pod and into a hospital bed, Rodney did not recover as John had. John was well enough to walk around Monuth, but Rodney could barely move around his room. John's wounds were merely scars now, while Rodney's were still open, some still very much raw.

Carson knew that, despite his progress, Rodney would need to go to Ignothia to fully recover from his injuries. To find out why the bionites were failing was the reason Carson still sat in the labs once almost everyone else had gone to bed. He'd made a final check on Rodney and then ordered the stasis pod to the labs. What he saw in the water was a continued and relentless deterioration of the bionites in the pod water, yet there was no real reason for it. Many hours later, Carson began to see the same degradation in the tank bionites. Yet the tank Bionites had been in the tanks for longer than he had been on Caronaa, brought with the Groten ship many months before. So why would they begin to die now? A quiet knock on the door broke his concentration.

"Can I come in, Doc?" John stood in the doorway, and though he smiled, it was clear that something was on his mind.

"Of course. Is something wrong?"

"Not with me. Nor Rodney," he hastened to add.

"Then how can I help you?"

"It's Primus."

"Primus? I thought it was back on Ignothia?"

"Yeah, about that," John rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty. "I left the planet so quickly, I didn't have time to let it get back out. It's still in me."

Carson could feel the redness flushing from his neck up his face and silently told himself to calm down. "Are you telling me that that wee beastie has been in you all along? Don't you think that was something I might have needed to know about?!"

"I'm sorry, Carson, okay? But it's not right."

Carson's tirade fizzled out. John rarely used his first name, so he must be worried; that plus his words piqued his interest. "What do you mean it's not right?"

"I haven't sensed it in a day or two. It doesn't move, it doesn't eat, it doesn't communicate. We don't even share dreams anymore," Carson went to ask more about that particular little nugget, but John held up his hand. "Look, I know none of this makes sense, but something's wrong. I think it's dying." John finished, and Carson couldn't help but gulp at hearing the desperation in his voice.

Carson walked to the sitting area where a pot of strong Caronaa coffee-like beverage steamed. "Okay, take a seat," he said as he poured two cups and handed one to John. "I don't know much about the Goh yet, other than they can control your body and mind, and communicate via some kind of biological interface, correct?"

"Pretty much."

"And when you were first… infiltrated by Primus, you were unaware it was there, right?"

"I knew something wasn't right. When your muscles work on their own and have you walk for miles, you tend to notice."

"True. What I mean to say is, you don't think it's just shut you out? I mean, it's not beyond the scope of its abilities."

"It said it was inactive, but I still knew it was there. This is different. This is… nothing."

Carson put his cup down, went to one of the lab stations, and picked up a blood kit. "May I?"

John nodded and offered his arm. Carson took a vial and then retreated to the station again and sat on a stool as he prepared a few slides of John's blood. Once they were ready, he looked at them through the microscope and what he saw confirmed something he'd hoped to be wrong about. "I feared as much," he mumbled.

John sauntered over with his cup in hand and sipped it as Carson continued looking at the slides. "Wanna tell me what you see?"

Carson sighed and sat back on the stool. "There isn't one single bionite in your blood. When you came back, I ran some blood tests, remember?"

John nodded, "Yeah, when I was sitting with Rodney."

"Correct. And that time, your blood was teeming with the little things."

"Okay, so what has this got to do with Primus?"

"Everything," Carson said as the pieces finally fell into place in his mind. "Think about an ecosystem. Many parts work harmoniously to create one big living engine. You take one part of the engine away and the rest stops working."

"Okay…"

"I've been working on the bionites since I discovered them. I've looked at ways to harvest them, how to store them and reproduce them. But I can't do any, because they are all dying. I couldn't figure it out, until now."

"So you're saying that the lack of bionites in my blood is why Primus is sick?"

"Not just bionites. If it were just that, then the bionites would be fine even if the Goh wasn't. But the Bionites are not, Primus is not, and the only other thing you don't have is the water. It makes sense why the Goh tanks still have living bionites and why they started dying when I took them out. Three things are needed to make that miracle cure of yours, and one without the others just doesn't work. It can work for a while, like it did with Rodney initially, repairing some damage before the bionites died."

"So why are the bionites dying now? And why is Primus dying now? We were both in the birthing valleys, and Primus was fine. It was in a Goh tank before and then marched me all over Caronaa fine. What's changed now?"

"I think you'll find that when Primus entered your body the first time, there were hundreds of bionites and some Ignothian water on its body. Add to that the other two that hit your chest and their children, your body was the perfect vessel for the ecosystem, everything working in tandem. When you began to fail before you were taken to Ignothia, it was because the bionites were gone, the water absorbed, and only Primus and the children were left, which couldn't keep you alive."

"But like I say, we've both been in the birthing valley for days, how can Primus be dying so soon?"

"I believe Primus, like any other organism, is simply exhausted. It's probably used up what reserves of bionite and water were left in your body, and you don't need it now, so you didn't notice."

"It restarted my heart, back on the planet. That must have used most of its energy. So, how can we save it?"

"The only thing I can think of is extracting it from you and placing it in one of the Goh tanks before they are shipped back to Ignothia in the morning. It's probably its best chance, because if what you are saying is true, it will never make it home before it dies."

John took only a few seconds to decide and put his cup on the counter. "Okay, Doc, do what you gotta do. Just save Primus."

"Stay there," Carson said and headed out into the corridor.

He passed several nurses working the night shift, and an automated cleaner that nearly took the legs from beneath him. He rushed to the main reception and spoke with the clerk, instructing her to have one of the Goh tanks brought to the hospital as soon as possible and moved into the lab. The clerk looked at him strangely but followed his orders and confirmed that a Vipen would arrive within fifteen minutes. When he returned to the lab, John was in the sitting area, fast asleep on one of the sofas. Carson busied himself getting the equipment he would need to extract Primus from John's body. It occurred to him that he had no idea exactly where in John the creature was, but remembered Rella saying it was near the shoulder and neck the last time. Of course, this time might be different, so he grabbed plenty of swabs and stitches, just in case.

"Doctor Beckett?"

It was John's voice, but Carson knew it wasn't John who spoke. He was still asleep, lying sprawled out on the sofa without a care. Carson approached the sleeping man and sat on the sofa beside him.

"Primus?"

"Yes."

"John thought you might be dead."

"I am nearing that time, Doctor Beckett. I don't have long."

"Then we must hurry, get you out of there."

"To what end? I cannot survive in your waterless world."

"I have arranged for one of the Groten tanks to be brought here, I was planning to put you in there for the ride back home to your planet."

Primus was silent, and Carson waited for a reply that didn't seem to be coming. Then, "Can I ask you something, Doctor Beckett?"

"Sure."

"You are a man of ethics, are you not?"

"Well, I consider myself an ethical man, yes. I am a doctor, after all."

"Then tell me, is it right to use one species to help another?"

"What do you mean?"

"There is an idea for the Goh to use the Groten in the ships for their own needs to protect Ignothia. I am not happy with this idea."

"Even though the Groten did evil things to your people?"

"Especially so. It would make us just as bad as the Groten, would it not?"

It was Carson's turn to fall silent as he faced a similar quandary. It was now clear to him that if he wanted to transform the bionites into a viable cure-all for humanity, it would be necessary to acquire a steady flow of captive Goh and a substantial amount of Ignothian water. Once he pieced everything together, he realised that this was the end of his miracle cure. He would never allow the Goh to be enslaved for the needs of others, not again. He wouldn't permit it for any species.

He sighed sadly and said, "Yes. Yes, it would, my friend."

"Then there is no idea at all," Primus replied. "The Goh will not allow it."

Carson continued to sit there long after Primus fell silent. He thought about the Goh and their ongoing battle for survival. Their predicament wasn't unlike a wraith culling, only to be used as weapons, not food. He didn't think there was any human who would purposely mind jack a wraith to control its ship, though some of Earth's top military might if they knew of a way. But a human would find a way to control the ship themselves, and in that sense, Carson thought he might have a plan that took the Groten out of the equation.

"Primus?"

There were long moments of silence, then John's mouth slurred a hushed whisper. "Need to conserve energy," Primus said.

"Okay, listen. I might have an idea how you can use the Groten ships without a Groten. But right now, I need to get you out of John and into the tank so you can survive. Where exactly are you?"

"...beneath the skull…"

"I was afraid of that. It could be dangerous for John."

"I will move…"

Carson heard John groan, and he shifted in discomfort, his neck exposed so that Carson saw the Goh's movements. It was a bulge beneath the skin that rolled down from the base of John's skull and down through the neck. Sure that Primus stopped John from waking, Carson pulled his shirt aside to follow the Goh's path. The rolling bulge stopped at his left shoulder, then pushed outward.

"I see you, Primus. Let's get you out of there."

)0(

John sat in a field of yellow grass, a cool breeze blowing through his hair. He stared into an indigo sky where a flock of strange winged creatures with long necks and even longer legs flew. Beside him sat a stranger to his eyes, but not his mind. In the dreamscape, Primus had made itself a body. Graceful, tall, and long-legged, it was unclothed and genderless with sleek features not unlike a fish. From its head grew feathery, fin-like structures which the breeze teased. Its large, black eyes stared upwards, following the path of the avians.

"So, we're dreaming again?" John asked, unable to stop himself from feeling upset with the creature.

"Yes," Primus replied, and its voice sounded like the wind, airy and breathless. "I should not have closed down our communication."

"Then why did you?"

"I had much to think about and didn't wish to trouble you."

"And you think acting like you were dead was the way to go?"

"I apologise."

John was quiet for a while, thankful Primus was alive, but still stubbornly pissed with it. He stood up and wandered further into the field, his hands smoothing over the tips of the grass as he passed. Up ahead, the sky had darkened. The indigo had turned black, and there were sparks of light like lightning threading through the darkness. It troubled John. He looked back to Primus to find it was no longer there. He spun around, searching while coming to understand with a cold pit growing in his stomach how much the creature meant to him.

"Primus?"

There was no reply. Behind him, the electrical storm grew in intensity. The light show lit up the entire sky, and John worried it had something to do with Primus.

"Primus?!"

"I am here, John."

He spun around, seeing Primus standing, staring at the storm with its large eyes. It was much taller than him, and swayed like a young tree as the breeze became a brisk wind that chilled them.

"I'm sure you are aware that I am dying."

"I figured as much," John said sorrowfully. "Is there anything that can be done?"

"At this precise moment, Doctor Beckett is extracting me from your body. He plans to place me in one of the Groten tanks."

"That's great!"

Primus smiled sadly. "It may already be too late, which is why I wished to speak with you before I go."

John's mind reeled. He hated these conversations, and had told Rodney and the others often enough that he would not entertain them. He couldn't deal with the feelings and emotions that came with such conversations, so he usually steered clear of them. He certainly wasn't ready to say goodbye to someone who, in such a short time, had become a close friend. But if it were to be their last conversation, he would speak with Primus, he would hear it out.

"For a long time, we Goh lived in darkness. I was an infant when we were harvested, and for so long, the tank was all I knew. In your vernacular, you would say it was a living hell. Hundreds of us, crushed in a small tank, existing but not living, mourning those who died as their bodies fouled the water. Then you came."

The sky above lightened, the darkness vanished, and they both looked up at a bright sky as the wind died. It was exactly what John had seen when he crawled out of the crevice, Ignothia, in all its beauty.

"I never meant you harm, but my being in that Groten weapon harmed you. I did what the Eldus commanded, to use whatever means to get to water and safety, and it nearly killed you. I nearly killed you. Yet, despite this, you understood. Then you promised to help me and my kind, and I thought it impossible. But you did. You saved us, John. You ensured the safety of my kin, almost giving your life to do so. You took me home to Ignothia, a place I never thought I would see again. Then you took me above and showed me a side of my world I could never see from the water."

Primus fell quiet as the Ignothia sun beat down on them in waves of warmth. John sniffed, not knowing when the tears began to trickle down his face. He wiped them away, still staring at the sky, not knowing if he could utter a word without breaking. Primus sighed and shifted beside him. It placed a hand on John's shoulder and stared at him with those large, expressive eyes glistening like black diamonds.

"I am eternally grateful that we met, John Sheppard, and forever thankful that we did. What you did for me, for all Goh, was nothing short of a miracle. If I am to die soon, I will do so happy knowing that my kind will survive, thanks to you. I will always be your friend, no matter what."

John stared at Primus, unable to get the words from his throat, so he grasped the hand on his shoulder and nodded silently. Primus smiled, and the world around them began to fade.

"No, no, no! Primus!" he grabbed for his friend, but it was already gone.

)0(

John woke with a start, arms and legs flailing as he tumbled from the sofa onto the lab floor. He grabbed hold of the sofa and pulled himself upright, panic in his chest as he saw Carson holding a lifeless, squishy grey creature in the palms of his hands. John stared at Primus, not seeing a strange alien creature, but seeing his friend dying in the careful hands of another.

The lab doors were thrown open as two warriors brought the Goh tank in on a hover pad. The thing was huge, and after helping Carson to his feet, John grabbed a stool and pulled it to the side of the tank. The two warriors helped steady him as he climbed on top of the tank and pulled the heavy hatch open. The smell from inside was nauseating, but it was Primus's only hope. He watched as Carson carefully transferred Primus to one of the much taller warriors, who then reached up to place it gently in John's reaching hands. John raised Primus, carefully holding it over the open tank. He spared only a moment to look at his friend, then reached down into the putrid water and let Primus go. It sank into the murky depths, John quickly losing sight of it.

"John?" Carson stared up at him, concerned. "John, we need to get your wound closed."

John nodded, wiped his face, cleared his throat and closed the tank hatch. The two warriors helped him down before leaving them, heading back out to their Vipen. When the lab doors closed behind them, John looked to Carson, his shoulders slumped, and he trudged his way back to the sofa.

"I can't imagine the loss you feel," Carson said quietly as he stitched the incision in John's shoulder. "To be so close to another being, minds connected, it's sure to feel like a loss."

"You forget the White Death, Doc," John replied, eyes on the dark water within the Goh tank. "I had her in my head for longer and don't miss her."

"Yes, but this is different and you know it."

John nodded. It was different. This time, it hurt like hell.

As Carson continued to clean and close the wound in his shoulder, John looked away from the tank and closed his eyes. If Primus was gone, there wasn't much he could do about it. He would mourn the creature, miss it for a long time, but he wasn't sure he would ever get over it. Then Carson's hands stilled, and John assumed he had finished stitching his wound. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and John opened his eyes to see Carson staring ahead, mouth open in surprise. John followed his gaze to the Goh tank, thinking his eyes were playing tricks. The dark water appeared to be glowing. Sparks of blue spread through it, starting at the bottom and spreading upward until the entire tank was ablaze with lightning flashes, an electrical storm within.

"Rella said that the Goh on Ignothia glowed like that the day they took you there," Carson said.

John stood and walked to the tank, pressing a hand to its cold glass side. He smiled, looked to Carson and said, "Primus made it."

"Aye, and by the looks of things, it's telling the others all about its adventures."

John grinned as a Goh pressed itself to the tank wall alongside his hand. It bobbed up and down, glowing the ghostly blue in pulses, like a heartbeat.

"I hear ya, buddy," John whispered. "I hear ya."

..

The White Death is from another of my stories from years ago. Cookieeeeeees!

Chapter Text

Chapter 49

Ronon stood by as Rodney shuffled to the edge of the bed. He feigned ignorance every time Rodney made a pained grunt or screwed his face up, knowing that the man already felt embarrassed enough at his situation. He thought Rodney's embarrassment was unecessary, it wasn't as if he was moaning about nothing. The man tried everything to keep the pain from his face, continually tried not to show how it hurt him to move, even at times breathe. But Ronon could see it, even though Rodney's valiant attempt to hide his pain was remarkable in and of itself.

"You don't have to help me," Rodney grumbled as he stood up from the bed.

Ronon rolled his eyes. "I want to," he replied gruffly.

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't allowed on the mission after I promised you I'd get Sheppard home. So I'm promising to get you to Ignothia."

"Then, I assume you're coming too?"

"Can't keep the promise otherwise."

He fully intended to keep this promise, even if it meant Carson would follow through on his threat to impose an excessive downtime on him afterwards. Though the Doc had been quite right not to allow him to go on John's rescue mission with Lorne and his team, Ronon still felt angry about it. He didn't like making promises he couldn't keep, especially as important as the one he'd made Rodney.

Ronon had been ready and willing to go and rescue John, even though he still suffered under the effects of infection and his injuries. He'd stood waiting with Teyla to join Lorne's team when Carson turned up and handed him pills, and Ronon had tried to look well and ready to go on the mission. The Doc had walked away to return to Monuth, but just as Lorne said it was time to go and made his way to the Jumper, Carson had turned on his heel and sauntered back with a hardened expression. Then he'd told Ronon in no uncertain terms what he would do if he even thought about stepping on the Jumper with Lorne and his team. So Ronon watched the Jumper take off, frustrated that he couldn't keep his promise to Rodney. He was furious with Carson to the point that even Teyla struggled to calm him down.

Carson had no say on the mission to get Ignothian water for Rodney, as the Doc was oblivious to the plan. Ronon had grinned when he thought of Carson hearing about himself and John heading off on such a dangerous trip and him having a hissy fit over it. But, once they got back and Rodney was in the pod, Ronon collapsed in the chair of his bay, exhausted and sore. He'd been livid that Carson was proved right and the smug look the Doc had given him when he found him in the chair was enough to make Ronon groan with annoyance. But he felt much better now. The medicine was finally doing what it was meant to do, and Ronon felt fit enough to accompany Rodney to Ignothia, to ensure his friend's return to health.

He raised his good arm mid air as Rodney stepped from the bedside towards the waiting wheelchair, ready in case he fell. Rodney glared indignantly at the wavering hand as he took another step.

"I can do it myself," he muttered, reaching for the wheelchair.

Then a pain seemed to shoot through him as he gasped then stumbled forward, holding his side, his legs giving way beneath him. With lightning reflexes, Ronon reached out and caught him one-handed mere inches before he hit the deck, hauled him upright then helped him into the wheelchair.

"Sure you can," Ronon said as he grabbed a blanket from the bed and placed it over Rodney's shoulders.

"I'm not an old woman," he replied angrily, pulling at the blanket.

"It's freezing out, you'll thank me for it."

Ronon hid his smile as he walked behind the wheelchair, took off the brakes and started pushing it out the bay. It took him a moment to maneuver the chair out of the bay as his arm was still strapped up, but once on the straight he managed fine with one hand. Rodney was quiet as they made their way through the hospital corridors. Ronon knew it was because he hated wheelchairs, having watched him sit in one for two years following a Jumper crash that crushed his legs. While at the time Rodney had been unable to speak, he was more than able to convey his loathing of the wheelchair despite the mutism. The experience of having to depend on the wheeled contraption to get around left a bitterness in Rodney, and while he conceded that wheelchairs were undoubtedly useful and sometimes necessary, he avoided them at all costs. He was sure that being in one again reminded Rodney of that time, so he did his best not to aggravate the man further.

The silence between them allowed Ronon time to reflect on how he found himself pushing Rodney McKay through a hospital, while feeling glad to do it. For a long time, the only thing Ronon knew was fear. As a Runner he was in constant fear for his life, jumping from one planet to another in a bid to hide and survive the Wraith that hunted him. That fear drove him to think only of himself to survive and the once altruistic Satedan became a selfish and uncaring man, with no one to love or to love him in return. For years he lived only to survive, finding little joy in his every day existence. Until the day he met the Atlanteans.

He'd fled a Wraith hunting party to another planet, knowing they would quickly follow him. He would have just enough time to grab some fruit from the trees then dial back out, only he'd run into John and Teyla. The fear ran so strongly through him that it caused him to be suspicious of everyone and everything. That he ran into the two people with strange clothes and weapons seemed too much of a coincidence and so he stunned them, thinking they might be in league with the Wraith. He'd wanted to return to the gate and get out of there, but something about the two made him stay, and he was thankful that he did. Because of that fateful day he gained a family, more friends than he could count and allies in the war against the Wraith. The team were his family, as was the currently cantankerous man in the wheelchair.

In the beginning, Ronon didn't really like Rodney. The man complained constantly. He was always ill, always hungry and always irritating. He would say one thing then do another. He was offensive, belittling, had an obnoxious superiority complex and Ronon saw little value in him. But then he came to understand Rodney, and why he was the way he was.

During a mission with an extensive travel time, he'd told Ronon about his sad and lonely childhood. Socially awkward and bullied by other children, he spent most of his youth reading books to stay out of the way of other kids. He was teased and bullied because of his shyness and intelligence and spent most of his school days alone. Rodney's teenage years had not been fun, either. He'd often been the butt of everyone's joke and too oblivious to the cruel teasing to realise it until long after the interaction. The bullying and teasing had followed him even into adulthood, and Rodney grew tired of always putting on a brave face and a fake smile. What little social interactions he enjoyed were mostly with his sister, but they had become estranged as they grew older.

From this information Ronon came to understand that Rodney had constructed a protective shield to hide behind, to fend people off, and a way to protect himself from the scorn of others. The way he spoke to people, they way he acted, and the things that he did were all part of the shield, a coping mechanism that made him unapproachable, unlikeable, therefore best left alone. But as time passed, Ronon got to see Rodney without his shield. He saw Rodney's great intelligence and ingenuity, and found them astonishing, not something to tease him over. Rodney had a dry and quirky sense of humor, and he was quite fun to be around when he wasn't in a snarky mood. Rodney didn't love easily, always scared to put his feelings out there in case they were crushed as they had been in the past. So when he did love, he did so fiercely. Ronon discovered this when Rodney healed him of his spinal scars after spending time in the ascension machine. If that wasn't love, then Ronon didn't know what was. Rodney wasn't a cold and distant know-it-all, but a man of integrity and confidence, dependable, resilient, loyal, and Ronon regarded and loved him as a brother. This was why he was happy to wheel him through the hospital, why he had spent hours by his bedside, and why he would spend hours again waiting for him to heal on Ignothia.

"You were right," Rodney said as they rounded the corner into the main foyer. "It is freezing." He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and said, "Thanks."

Ronon grinned, wondering how difficult it had been for Rodney to say the word. "Don't mention it. It'll be warmer in the Jumper."

"Where's John?"

"With Kerria. They're riding with us to Ignothia."

Rodney was quiet for a time, then said, "John doesn't think I know, but, he really loved her, huh?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"If she doesn't make it, he'll need us."

"He'll still need us if she does."

"Why?"

"Because, he was coming to say goodbye, regardless."

Rodney thought about this as Ronon pushed the wheelchair outside into the cold day. "I guess there was no way for it to work out, her being the next village leader and John in Atlantis."

"I guess."

Up ahead, John stepped out from the rear of the Jumper. "You guess what?" he said.

"That you won't be piloting this thing," Ronon covered quickly.

"You guess right, Stackhouse is flying us," John approached them then took control of the wheelchair, two hands better than one to get it up the ramp. "Get your asses in gear, we're running late."

John helped Rodney into a seat, then folded the wheelchair and sat it by the closing hatchway. Ronon sat next to Rodney and cast an eye over Kerria whose trolley bed took up the centre aisle. She was pale and thin, but she was breathing on her own, which Ronon knew she'd been unable to do before. Carson's little remedy had given her a fighting chance, as it had Rodney. Ronon hoped she recovered on Ignothia, for John's sake, as it seemed important to him to have this final interaction.

"Have the Goh decided what to do with the Groten ships?" Rodney asked as he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"They're not going for it," John replied. "They think controlling the Groten it's unethical."

"Hmmm. So they are willing to what? Keep on being used as a weapon?"

"No, Carson might have come up with an alternative."

"Okay, let's hear it."

"He thinks that they could modify biosuits to hold Goh who would then tend to the ships."

Rodney stared at him increaduously. "Biosuits?"

"The details need ironing out but, yeah, biosuits."

"And how are they meant to control the suits? And how will they know how to fly the ships?"

"Like I say, the finer details have yet to be discussed. But I know the lead Groten is in Central, in the Chair," John frowned.

Even Ronon grimaced at this. The Caronaans used a machine to rip information from the minds they interrogated. He'd seen it used, and what it did to a person strapped into it. But it really could rip out even the tiniest piece of information. "So they'll gain knowledge about the ships from the interrogation?"

"That's the plan. Modify then fill the suits with water. The Goh controls it via the interface. Carson and Teyla are in Central now testing it with Eldus."

The Jumper took off and within ten minutes they were over Ignothia. Two Vipens were heading back to Caronaa to pick up more victims and passed the Jumper as it came in to land. On the edge of the crevice stood two Caronaan warriors, waiting to help. Once on the ground, Stackhouse opened the rear hatch and the warriors approached to take Kerria down to the water. Ronon followed John out who pushed Rodney along to stand at the edge. There were two more warriors on the ledge below and the two above carefully passed Kerria down to them. Several of the sicker plague victims were already in the water, their heads the only thing above the waterline. Each had a nurse who would stay with them for the duration. John would be Kerria's attendant, Ronon, Rodney's. Kerria was slipped into the water as John climbed down to be with her, then the warriors turned their attention to Ronon and Rodney.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" Rodney whispered to Ronon as he wrapped his uninjured arm around his stomach.

"They could take you down in the chair," Ronon smirked.

"No thanks," Rodney muttered and purposely stood up.

There was no easy way to get Rodney down into the crevice, so the warriors had to carry him down. Ronon saw him turn a shocking shade of white as the warrior's metal hands closed around his torso. It lofted him into the air as the second warrior took hold of his legs and then they began the descent. By the time they climbed over the edge, Ronon could see Rodney's eyes closing. He called on one of the warriors already in the crevice to help him, the sides too steep to take on one-handed. The warrior supported him down the rocky wall then Ronon hurried to the water's edge. A loop of bandage was threaded beneath Rodney's arms, then he was slipped into the water like the others. He'd passed out from the pain and Ronon grabbed the bandage loop and pulled Rodney closer to float beside him.

"He just never gets it easy, does he?" John commented as he held Kerria in much the same way.

"It wouldn't have been so painful had he allowed them to use the chair."

"Come on, you're lucky he allowed you to use one to get him out the hospital."

"True," Ronon chuckled. "He's stubborn. Tried to push me away at every turn though he was clearly struggling."

John nodded. "He respects you too much to show weakness in front of you."

"That's… stupid," Ronon replied, stunned to hear such a thing. "I wouldn't think less of him. He has a hole in his side that I'd be proud of, so of course he's gonna be sore."

"That's McKay for you," John smiled. "I don't think he's had many friends in his life, so he constantly tries to impress the ones he has now when he can."

Ronon looked down on the sleeping man who bobbed about in the water next to his leg, thinking that the stubborn fool had no need to try to impress him. Ronon was impressed by him every day in one way or another. Just a few days ago they'd argued over who would go with John to Ignothia and he was impressed because Rodney stood his ground and wouldn't back down until Carson stepped in. The very fact that Rodney purposely got into a biosuit with full knowledge he was going to battle terrifying beasts, was impressive. Rodney had saved all their lives so many times and in so many different ways, that Ronon couldn't help but be impressed by the man. But then, maybe it was his own fault that Rodney tried so hard. It wasn't as if he was an open book and told people what he thought of them. Usually he let his face do the talking, but then he supposed that over the years of being a Runner, his face had become permanently fixed with a menacing expression. The only talking it did now was tell people to piss off.

As if reading his mind, John said, "I often find it best to be up front, honest and blunt with Rodney. It's the only way he understands, or at least, the only things he takes as truth. It's why I'm patient with him, and I tell him, whenever the opportunity arises, what I want him to know. Because the truth is, we never know when a conversation might be our last, hell, this little adventure proves that, almost too well."

Ronon continued to stare at the top of Rodney's head. "I guess I better speak with him when this is all over."

"No," John chuckled, "You start a big heart to heart, and he'll run a mile. I'm just saying, there will be a right time, just take the chance when it comes."

"Like you're doing," Ronon nodded toward Kerria's floating form.

"Exactly like I'm doing," John replied softly looking down at Kerria.

Their conversation was halted when one of the nurses at the other side of the ledge cried out. The victim she sat with had awoken and was splashing about in the water, shock on his face.

"Oh Great Being! Where am I?!" he cried out and continued to splash until the nurse took hold of his arm and pulled him to the ledge. As she calmed him and launched into an explanation for the man, John smiled and pulled Kerria closer.

"Seems like the water is working. I wonder how long it will take for our two."

Ronon shrugged, but noted that Rodney didn't appear quite as pale as he had when they arrived. He was about to comment on it when John drew in a sharp breath and Ronon looked over in time to see Kerria open her eyes.

.

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. dog biscuits this time, pleeeeeeez!

Chapter Text

Chapter 50

The room was white, the lights bright, and Sik'tak squeezed his eyes shut from the glare. He'd been forced into a strange chair, strong metal restraints clamped tight to his wrists and ankles. His body felt heavy, his mind dull. Groggy and confused, he dared to crack open an eye and saw thin-skinned beings with white clothes mill around the white room. One checked his restraints, pulling on them to ensure they were secure. Sik'tak attempted to pull free and strike the being, but he felt unusually weak and guessed that the strange creatures had done something to subdue him. He tugged at the restraints with feeble movements, knowing he would never break free. He felt another restraint being placed on his forehead and his head snapped back into the chair until he could no longer move it. His eyes now fully opened, he strained to look around but was only able to see the glaring light and peculiar apparatus above him.

One of the alien beings took hold of the apparatus and pulled it towards him. It was made of many cables, all different colours, ending in small metallic discs with filaments that moved of their own volition. Sik'tak grunted as the thing got nearer, struggling in his restraints but unable to move even a millimeter. The closer it got, the more the filaments wriggled and when the apparatus finally came into contact with his head, Sik'tak felt those filaments wriggle and bury their way beneath his skin. He cried out, terrified as pain blossomed over his head, an unending wash of tiny explosions that bored down to his skull which resonated and hummed.

His body jerked and spasmed as he tried to break free, wishing to tear the thing from his head and flee this place. But the more he struggled, the tighter the restraints became until he gave up, panting and groaning, fearful of what might come next. The aliens spoke in their strange tongue, words he didn't understand but he listened regardless. One short word was barked and suddenly his head burned. It felt as if the filaments were filling his skull with fire, the pressure increasing until he unleashed a scream that deafened even his own ears. Then the pressure reversed, pulled from his skull in a trickle that sent a cold shudder through his body.

Sik'tak felt his mind disappearing.

One by one, thoughts and memories were brought to the front of his mind then ripped away, forgotten. Memories of loved ones and the emotions tied to them danced across his consciousness, only to disappear into a void he had no idea existed. Once they disappeared into that nothingness, Sik'tak forgot about them instantly, never knowing how much he lost. With every moment that passed, his mind felt lighter, emptier, and thoughts were fleeting stirrings that he barely noticed.

Losing his mind wasn't without discomfort. Every stolen thought was wrenched from his brain by electrical impulses that flowed through him, tortured his mind and scorched his body. He could smell his flesh smouldering with every pulse, the smell another sensation he could hardly perceive as his understanding of it vanished into the void as fast as the scent hit his olfactory receptors. Never truly understanding what was happening, every sensation felt brand new as his memory of them vanished instantly, so Sik'Tak endured in a state of fluxed instability where he experienced everything, but understood nothing. His mind quivered, his eyes vibrating in their sockets as his system misfired under the onslaught.

Sik'tak suffered unbearable agony, unable to formulate words to cry for help, powerless to help himself despite his great strength. A body without a mind is like a marionette without strings, and all the muscular power of the great Groten form meant nothing while strapped in the interrogation chair. He screamed until his throat could no longer make noise, airy tortured gasps prevailing when his speech ceased. The torture was unfaltering, endlessly unabating, with unrelenting pain and confusion as his mind was devastated. Every detail held within his organic brain was stripped and rewritten onto a machine's memory, right down to his dying, nebulous and tortured thoughts. His consciousness became little more than a lengthy series of code, screeds of compressed data with no feeling or experience attached.

It took less than thirty minutes to interrogate Sik'tak. By the time the chair powered down and the neural interface was removed, he was little more than a charred corpse. Only the occasional post-mortem contraction hinted that what remained had once been a living being. A loud clunk sounded as the wall behind the chair parted and the chair moved behind it to take Sik'tak's corpse for disposal, leaving Carson and Teyla to stare at the space it had been, utterly horrified by what they had witnessed. Their presence had been at the request of Eldus, who was fully installed in the first modified biosuit for its species. It had asked they attend so they could explain what was occurring and how it would provide it with the information it required to use the Groten technology.
The air stank of burned flesh, singed fur and the putridity of death, choking up the interrogation room with a stench neither Carson nor Teyla would ever forget. Surreal moments slipped by as half the room carried on working, seemingly unfazed, while the other half stood frozen—wide-eyed and stunned—unable to grasp how anyone could remain indifferent in the face of such horror.

"I did not expect such brutality," Eldus said through the suit com, its voice strange and accompanied by an electronic buzzing, but filled with recognisable disgust.

"Nor I," Carson replied putting his hand to his mouth to stifle a retch.

Teyla found she could not speak, numbed by the barbarity of Sik'tak's death. No matter what anyone thought of them, Groten were still sentient beings, living their lives as best they knew how. She felt that no one deserved to die in such a manner, perhaps not even a Wraith, though she knew many would disagree.

The chair technician approached and informed them that the transfer had been successful. "It will take some time to compile the data retrieved."

"How long are we talking?" Carson asked.

"It was a huge amount of information, Fer Beckett, an entire life, you understand. I would guess at least a couple of hours."

"Hours?!" Carson repeated with surprise. "I thought you were going to say days or months!"

The tech smiled, standing a little taller while almost puffing out his chest. "Our computers are far superior to yours, Fer Beckett."

"Aye, alright, son, no need to be so arrogant, eh?" Carson bristled. "And maybe they are better than our wee laptops, but they'll never beat the system back on Atlantis."

"One day I would like to test them against each other," the tech smiled walking back to his computer.

"Aye, I bet you would," Carson mumbled, placing his hand on Teyla's shoulder. "Are you alright, lass?"

"I am fine. I did not expect it to be so… experienced," she replied shakily.

"I know what you mean, I thought the thing would have been unconscious, too."

"This is not a usual occurrence?" Eldus asked.

"No, and we were unprepared," Teyla answered. "Neither of us have witnessed the chair in use before."

"I hope you never do again," Eldus replied gravely.

A few more shocked minutes passed before Carson shook himself and turned away from the odorous void. "Shall we return to the laboratory while we wait for the data to be compiled?" he asked, moving deliberately toward the door. "Perhaps we could further test your suit, Eldus?"

Eldus moved the biosuit as if it had worn one all its days. "I would like that," it replied as the wall opened once more and the chair returned, empty.

Teyla stared at the chair for a long moment, her throat tightening as she swallowed hard. Then, with a quiet resolve, she tore her gaze away, silently vowing never to witness its use again.

)0(

Kerria thrashed in the cold water, her limbs flailing as panic took hold—until John reached out, his hands steady and sure, and grasped hers. He pulled her toward the edge, then lifted her from the water. She stumbled as she emerged, soaked to the skin, her body trembling from the chill air in the crevice. John wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, pulling her close to give her warmth. For a moment, she simply stood there, breathless and shivering in his arms.

"John?" she asked with confusion through chattering teeth. "What are you doing here? Where is here?!"

"That's kinda hard to explain," he replied rubbing the cold from her back and arms. "Needless to say, I kept my promise."

"What promise is that?" she asked leaning into his warm embrace.

"To be with you when you opened your eyes," he replied softly.

Kerria pulled back, staring with suspiscion. "H-how long have they been closed?"

"Too long."

She looked around herself, for the first time seeing the other people around them both in the water and out. "Who are these people? Where are we?" she asked, her concerned voice pitching higher.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll explain, but calm down, you're perfectly safe."

"I… wait… what happened to you? You look so different."

John grimaced, self-consciously running his hand through his hair. "How about we go somewhere a little more private and I'll tell you everything?" he replied, taking her hand and leading her to the rocky wall. With the help of the biosuited warriors, the two climbed from the crevice out into warm sunshine and onto the plateau above.

"We're not on Caronaa!" she gasped, eyes wide with wonder and perplexity.

"No, this is planet Ignothia," John replied. "Bringing you here was the only way to save you and the others."

She fell silent, her blue eyes moving back and forth and John could see her marvelous mind working away behind them. "The plague," she said quietly. "We never recovered from it."

"The cure failed in you and over a hundred more."

She stared at him for long moments, and John knew what she was seeing. Time had a way of weathering the body, changes she would have instantly noticed as her eyes hadn't looked upon him in almost two years. Since they last met he had been in more battles and played more mind games with warlords and politicians than he cared to admit, aging him ever so slightly. Kerria raised her hand and smoothed his hair, her features softening, saddening. John knew she undoubtedly noted the stray grey hairs standing sporadically in contrast to the black. Her hand lowered and she gently touched his face, her fingers softly tracing the new laughter lines and scars he knew she hadn't seen before.

"How long have I slept?" she asked again, and he could see she was afraid of the answer.

"Over a year," he replied.

"Over a… year?" she repeated dumfounded as her knees gave way and John caught her and lowered her to the ground gently.

"Well, maybe a bit longer," he admitted. "But you're back now."

"How… how many came back?"

John was quiet for a while, trying to think of the best and most gentle way to tell her. "What you saw back there, is half of who remain."

"But, there was only a handful, ten at most!"

"Nine, the others are shipping in soon."

"But why me? Why us?"

"I don't know much about why the cure failed in some, you'd have to ask Rella about that. All I know is you are back, and that's all I cared about."

"What are you not telling me? What changed?" she asked and John cursed her discerning mind. "If I've been this way for so long, why did you come back now?"

He tugged on a piece of long grass by his leg and twisted it into knots. "Your dad kept me in the loop since day one, letting me know how you and the others were doing. In his last communication, he told me that if I wanted to say goodbye, I had to hurry back."

"I was dying?"

He nodded. "You all were. Time had run out, the plague had run its course and everyone from Caronaa to Atlantis had exhausted all treatments."

He could sense her watching him, saw in his peripheral vision that her eyes looked him up and down and he pulled another piece of grass to knot. She placed her hand on his arm and felt up to his shoulder, smoothed her hand down his chest, raised it back up to lightly grasp his chin then turned his head to look at her. "What happened to you?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "I got myself into a bit of trouble when we arrived. Lost some weight, gained some scars. But you wouldn't be here now if it hadn't happened."

"But, you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Better every day. It was worth it, to see your blue eyes once more."

She smiled the smile that always made his stomach flip and though he knew it could never be, for a few moments he allowed himself to believe it could. She wriggled closer beside him and they sat quietly watching strange herbivores chew on the long yellow grass as clouds cast lazy shadows that rolled across the land. In another time, he might have pulled her closer and kissed her, but such times had passed and John unhappily accepted it was for the best. So he sat there, playing with the grass, strengthening his resolve to leave Kerria behind once all was said and done.

"Why did you want to be here for me?" Kerria asked and shivered despite the suns warm rays. "Our relationship ended so long ago, I would have thought you'd moved on by now."

John sighed heavily. "The relationship may have ended, but that doesn't mean I stopped caring. I dunno. I just didn't want it to end with you gone forever."

She quietly mused over this and, after a while, said, "there was no way we could work it back then, we won't be able to make it work now."

"That's not why I made the promise. Look, maybe it was guilt. I flew you to some of the worst plague outbreaks, so in a way it was my fault you got ill."

She shook her head. "No, I got ill because I was careless. You might have flown me in, but I should have ensured I was safe and protected."

"None of that matters now. It happened, it's in the past. You can catch up on everything later, for now let's just enjoy, being. You're here, alive and awake, and I'm happy with that."

"Only that?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, only that."

She turned her face and lightly kissed him on the cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder. "I really wish we could have worked out," she said quietly.

"Yeah," John replied, throwing away the knotted grass. "Me too."

In the distance John saw two dark dots in the sky. He watched the Vipens approach, listened to their engines pulsing louder as they closed in. They were bringing the last of the plague survivors for submersion and roared overhead, disturbing their peace and the quietness. Dust billowed from the ground as they landed on the plateau, their loud engines powering down to a quiet drone. As Kerria continued to watch the native animals, John watched the plague victims being carried from the Vipens and down into the crevice. When the last one was taken off the nearest Vipen, the familiar figure of a man with a walking cane shuffled down the ramp onto the grass, causing John's stomach to tighten with anticipation. A deep melancholy fell over him, for he understood this was the moment he'd dreaded most all along.

"I guess our time is up," he said quietly, nudging Kerria gently.

"What do you mean?" she asked, raising her head from his shoulder.

"I'm not the only one who has been waiting for you to waken," he said and nodded toward the approaching man.

Kerria followed his gaze and she jumped to her feet when she saw who it was walking toward them. "Father!" she cried and rushed to him, her feet barely touching the ground.

John watched her throw her arms around Sama and hugged him as he smoothed her hair and praised the Great Being for all to hear. John watched the reunion with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, knowing that it signified the end for them, and as Sama hugged his daughter tightly, John turned and walked away. He pushed through the tall yellow grass down to the rough terrain at the bottom of the hill. He continued walking, following an old path beaten by animals. The path took him to an expanse of water so crystal clear that he suddenly ached to return to Atlantis. He picked up stone after stone, skimming them across the water until their momentum slowed and they fell beneath the water. He smiled hearing Kerria's joyous laughter carried on the ever-present breeze and inhaled deeply. He held the breath and closed his eyes, letting go of her, acceptance lodging solidly in his mind. He opened his eyes, exhaled and looked over the water. In that quiet moment, he understood that even though it hurt him now and the pain felt raw in his chest, it wouldn't last forever. It was a temporary feeling, a scar to join all the others he bore that would one day become a silver sliver that simply coloured his heart.

But he was happy it was the only such scar he would bear. His team had survived, his family was intact. He'd been terrified that Rodney would die, almost started grieving for him before the Ignothian water turned the tide. Teyla and Ronon had both healed well, though unless Ronon took a dip in the birthing valley, he would be out of commission while his arm fully healed. Knowing the man as he did, John would wager the big guy would let it heal naturally, and bear the injury with some misguided notion that it made him stronger to suffer.

John hurled his final stone across the surface of the water, watching as it skipped fifteen times before falling to the depths below. He gave a small, satisfied nod, a quiet acknowledgment of the moment, and then something shifted inside him. For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt unburdened. The quiet, constant worry he'd carried for Kerria—so long and so deeply that he hadn't even noticed its weight—had finally lifted. In its place was a lightness and he smiled, not the forced kind that he'd worn for months, but a true, effortless smile and John knew he would be alright. He ran his hands through his hair then walked back the way he came, finally at peace.

..
.. Cookies pleez!

Chapter Text

Chapter 51

Ronon had watched John and Kerria climb from the crevice and disappear onto the plateau. Seeing the smile on John's face made the entire journey worth it alone. His face lit up when Kerria looked at him, but Ronon couldn't help but feel unsettled. He saw a sadness on his features that he couldn't hide with the bright smile. Rodney had been right in his assessment, they would need to be there for John and support him no matter how things ended with Kerria. But she was alive, and goodbyes are not forever so long as people still live.

The day drew on and the sun no longer shone so warmly. Ronon began to get cold and tired sitting on the ledge. He occasionally nodded off, startling awake only for his eyelids to droop again moments later. He'd watched five people come round so far, and each time it happened it was marked with happy exclamations from the watchers and confused yelling from the newly awakened. He figured that, in the end, curing the plague and patching up the broader damage had been easy. But Rodney was another matter entirely. His wounds were angry welts, broken bones, shredded muscle and torn skin, the kind of wounds that made people flinch just looking at them. The water was taking longer to heal the wounds, a clear sign to Ronon of just how bad the damage had been.

He'd been sitting for a few hours now, his hand cold and numb from holding the loop of bandage securing Rodney, unable to swap it out with his injured arm which ached increasingly with the draining coldness of the air. He'd hoped John would come back to take over for a while, but he hadn't returned yet, apparently tied up helping the Vipen pilots resolve an issue with one of the ships. His legs and feet were numb, having been submerged in the water this entire time. He couldn't even feel it when he wriggled his toes. Eventually, he tied the looped bandage around one foot so he could put his numb hand under his vest to coax some warmth and life back into it. He managed to fish out the last of the painkillers Carson gave him and swallowed them dry, a sure sign that he was pushed past his usually vast limits. One of the attendants whose patient had revived asked if she could take over for him, but in the end, he declined and thanked her. He wanted himself or John to be present when Rodney awoke, not some random stranger.

The day dragged on as the sun dipped lower, casting the sky into darkness and further cooling the air in the crevice. Ronon shivered, his body twitching uncontrollably until one of the warriors noticed. They approached and draped a thick blanket over his shoulders. He muttered a quiet thanks, then removed the bandage loop from his foot and gripped it in his hand once more. The blanket was warm and comforting, easing his tremors, though a deep sense of exhaustion settled in. It irritated him to feel so weak, especially since he was usually the toughest, the one who could power through anything. Even John, despite almost dying, seemed stronger and more lively than Ronon felt at that moment. He aired a frustrated sigh, shifting uncomfortably as his backside grew numb from sitting on the cold stone for hours. To distract himself, he tried focusing on anything other than the cold and tiredness, anything to break the endless monotony.

At first, he watched inquisitive shoals of Goh which entered the area occasionally, darting through the water like tiny missiles. They would draw close to the victims and spend a few minutes near them before flashing sparks of blue as they sped away. Then, once all the plague victims had been brought, the Goh tanks started to arrive. He watched the warriors emptying them into the water until there was a huge glowing shoal of them, darting around for a while before disappearing into the watery darkness. Once he'd seen this a few times he became bored and found himself searching for something else to occupy his mind.

He tried some Athosian meditation to focus his thoughts, but all that did was make him even more sleepy. So he turned his mind to Atlantis and what he would do when he finally returned. He thought of hot showers and warm bed covers, of sleeping a full night in a secure and familiar place and enjoying the freedoms one's home afforded. He thought about the mess hall and the midday special he'd grown to love, noting it on his mental pinboard for his first good meal. He thought of the comfortable dimness of Atlantis, much more agreeable than the scathing white the Caronaans pasted around their planet. The dimness and comfort beckoned him and he thought again of his comfortable bed, worn and well-used, he always slept a good night through on it.

His mind drifted, his body slowly relaxed, and he was faintly aware of someone calling his name from a distance. He slowly raised his head and turned toward the sound, seeing a dark-clad figure dangerously scrambling down the side of the crevice with haste. Ronon blinked, and his stomach lurched as he realised he could no longer feel the bandage in his hand, nor the occasional bumps of Rodney against his leg. His eyes snapped open and couldn't see Rodney anywhere, catching only a glimpse of the bandaged loop as it sank into the depths. Without thinking he dove straight into the frigid water, beating his numb legs to power him downward. His sight was blurred and his eyes ached against the coldness of the water, but he could see a moving shadow that continued to sink as he struggled to dive quicker.

He reached for the bandage, his fingers brushing it but unable to grasp it. He roared with frustration and pushed his legs to hasten, bubbles exploding from his mouth, and the distorted sound of his muffled cry streamed past his ears. He neared the sinking shadow and was confused when it suddenly changed direction and shot towards him. He struggled to get out of the way as Rodney rocketed upward and bright sparks exploded in his mind when their heads connected violently. The impact left Ronon dazed and out of air and so he continued to sink, staring up at the dim light above that began to fade. He heard the muffled cries and splashing as Rodney broke water, then heard a massive splash as a second shadow entered the water and sped toward him. Ronon's eyes were closing again and as the shadow neared, his mind began to blank. He was losing consciousness as arms grabbed him from behind and then he was being propelled upward back toward the light and the air his lungs craved. They reached the surface, Ronon coughing and sputtering between heaving breaths as John moved his arm to support his head above the water while dragging him to the ledge. Rodney treaded water near the ledge waiting for them, his high-pitched distraught voice demanded to know if he was alright.

"Oh God! Is he okay? I just pushed off from the bottom, I didn't know he was there!"

Ronon groaned as the warriors approached the edge and used the biosuit strength to pull him from the water. They placed him on his back where he continued to cough and moan miserably.

"He's fine, just winded," John said as he pulled himself onto the ledge. "I think your thick head might have broken his nose, though."

"Oh thank God," Rodney said as John reached to haul him out of the water. "No no, I didn't mean thank God I broke your nose!"

"Don't you know how to swim?!" Ronon growled through chattering teeth, beginning to feel the pain from the impact of Rodney's head. "I thought you were drowning."

"I was drowning! That t-tends to happen when you let go of an unconscious person in water!"

"I'm sorry, I was tired," he growled, his voice shaking as he shivered. "Couldn't keep my eyes open."

"Well, isn't that just great," Rodney snarked. "He was t-tired."

"Rodney…" John said with warning.

"Well, you're not unconscious now, are you?" Ronon gruffed as he sat up, his head aching.

Rodney looked ready to fire off another retort, but something made him pause. His expression shifted, eyebrows lifting as surprise took hold. He glanced around, almost in disbelief, then began quickly running his hands over his torso—shoulders, sides, chest—touching spots that had caused him so much pain before. The confusion deepened as if he couldn't quite trust what he was feeling—or not feeling.

"Wait…"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I, uh, I.. feel great!"

Ronon grinned, "Fantastic! Maybe we'll get to go home now."

"I would have felt even better if you hadn't let me drown first!" Rodney snapped, bristling at the remark.

"There's always a negative with you," Ronon yelled, getting unsteadily to his feet. "I don't know why I even bother."

He stumbled toward the rocky wall and started to climb. His foot slipped, but he quickly caught himself. As he reached for the next hold, his strapped arm brushed against the surface, sending jolts of pain through the shattered limb—though it was less intense than before. He blocked out Rodney's voice calling his name, focusing solely on the difficult climb, his movements awkward but determined.

"You really need to think before you speak, McKay," he heard John remark.

Yeah, that's never gonna happen, Ronon thought as he pulled himself onto the plateau.

"He just accused me of being the reason why we've been stuck here and C-c-caronaa!" Rodney retorted."Like I purposely nearly got myself killed!"

Ronon ignored the rest of the conversation and staggered a few steps. He quickly realised the climb had been a bad idea, and looked around the darkened area for a place to sit, spying a rock formation mostly hidden by an untidy red-leaved shrub. He almost laughed at needing to rest, given that he'd just spent hours wishing he didn't have to. He hated being like this.

"Ronon?" Rodney called out as he crawled from the crevice. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Ronon kept quiet to avoid giving away his position and slowly lowered his upper body, sinking further behind the shrub for better cover. Rodney drew close, stopping to stand just a few feet from where Ronon sat.

"I was just… you know… being me. And, and, I know that isn't an excuse. I-I-I got a fright from sinking in the water, then I injured you, and, and the shock of being alive just…" He heard Rodney groan pitifully. "C-can we just talk about this?"

Ronon remained hidden and silent as he rested against the rock. He watched Rodney, wondering if he was being childish for staying hidden—maybe just a little petty, letting the man fumble through his words while looking so lost and alone. He debated whether it was worth his dwindling energy to speak up because he was sure he knew where this would head if he did. One more sharp word or offhand remark, and it would spiral into a drawn-out argument that he didn't have the patience for then.

On the other hand, Rodney was steadily unravelling. His voice shook slightly, each word tumbling out faster than the last. His usual confident tone was replaced by anxious stammering, betraying the worry he felt and tried to hide. He could see Rodney was tense, shoulders held high, his thumbs rubbing continually against his index fingers in nervous agitation. But Ronon remained unperturbed, continuing to keep quiet feeling that sometimes silence was the only way to keep the peace.

The sky had fallen into complete darkness, with the only illumination coming from the lights of the Vipen. Ronon shifted uncomfortably as the cold began to really bite, missing the blanket lost in the depths of the birthing valley. Somewhere in the darkness, a shrill animal call broke the silence, loud in the stillness of the night. He exhaled slowly, watching his breath fog the air and hoped Rodney didn't notice the misty puffs.

"Okay, right… I'll just, you know, k-keep talking, if you can hear me…" Rodney mumbled. "I-I know I can be a pain. I know I'm-I'm abrasive, but I really appreciate everything you've done for me these past few days. I know I slept through most of it, but I-I knew you were there, helping when you c-could. I'm not used to kindness, you see. I don't know how to react to it and never know how t-to say thanks because it never feels enough to convey how grateful I am for friends like you, John and-and Teyla. Even C-carson. I just… I'm just no good at it."

Deep down Ronon knew why Rodney had snapped at him and understood it more keenly than he would ever articulate. He silently watched Rodney fidget self-consciously while shivering and looking down as if he waited to be mocked or ridiculed for being so open and vulnerable.

"I-I really do love you guys," Rodney huffed with wretched honesty, rubbing his cold hands together. "And I know that s-sounds corny and you hate hearing s-such things, but it's the t-truth." He cupped his hands and blew warm breath into them. "My God, it's freezing," he whispered, his entire body shaking, his wet clothes clinging tightly to his skin. "I've been t-talking to myself, haven't I?" he laughed humourlessly. "I-I'll just go… But if you c-can hear me, I'm-I'm sorry… I…"

Ronon had heard enough and abruptly realised that this was the exact kind of moment John had spoken to him about, so he took the chance.

"You know I'd do anything for you, right?" he said quietly stepping out from behind the shrub.

Rodney looked up, surprised to see him appear so suddenly. His eyes were so wide that Ronon felt bad for allowing his meandering speech to continue so long that it left the man looking utterly dejected.

"We might fight sometimes, but that's what brothers do. They still love and respect each other, don't they?"

Rodney shivered, his mouth curling in a lop-sided grin. "I mean, I only have a s-sister, but yes, I s-suppose," he replied.

"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have a brother, McKay, two, in fact. And two sisters."

"No, I—"

"Do you really believe that a casual acquaintance or mere friend would spend hours or days by your bedside, or risk their lives to save yours?" Ronon asked and Rodney merely shrugged, staring again at the ground like a child being chided in front of a crowd. "We are your family, McKay, even when you don't want us."

"B-but I do want you. I've g-got no one else. Jeanie is so far away and doesn't understand me like you all do. I don't know what I'd do without you, John or T-teyla."

A faint rustling drew their eyes to a small tree near the ledge, shrouded in shadow. John emerged from the darkness, arms crossed, a faint smile playing on his lips. His damp hair was plastered to his head, but he didn't seem to feel the cold like they did even though he was just as wet. He acknowledged that Ronon had heeded his advice with a slight nod and Ronon had no doubt he'd been listening the whole time, ready to step in if things had started to escalate.

Always the peacekeeper, Ronon thought.

"As I told you in the past," John drawled. "You're stuck with us, Rodney. Even when you act like a little brat."

"I'm not a b-brat," Rodney retorted. "I merely have insecurities that often manifest when I'm upset. But, thank you, b-both of you. I wouldn't be here if not for you."

That was it? Ronon thought surprised as the tension present since leaving the water vanished.

He'd expected an awkward, long-winded conversation that would play on his mind and mortify him for days after. But a few short sentences were all it took to reassure Rodney and tell him what he wanted him to know. Despite his reluctance, nothing bad had happened, the world didn't end and no one cried embarrassingly. He was glad he'd said what he had to Rodney, feeling lighter in spirit. He thought perhaps he should stop his face from doing all the talking in future and just tell people how he felt.

"Right, come on. Let's get warm and back to Caronaa," John said walking toward the Vipens. "When we get back home to Atlantis, what say I grab the voucher for free Assam pie and take a day off to spend on Muo? We could visit Bann, and lounge about in Gardens of the Nulumn for the day. "

"That doesn't sound half bad," Rodney replied as his stomach grumbled loudly. "I might even have a voucher for a Gnator Muo'sh platter somewhere. Only, let's not go during a Dark Shift storm, I don't ever want to get caught in one again."

John hurried ahead to greet the Vipen pilot and requested the flight back to Caronaa. Ronon walked alongside Rodney, his mind focused solely on sleep. The bed waiting for him back on Caronaa wasn't much, only a thin mattress, and a stiff blanket, but right then, he was sure he could pass out on a pile of broken glass and not stir. Beside him, Rodney was trembling with cold, making sharp, shuddering breaths that sounded more like gasps. But it was the constant motion of his hands Ronon noticed, still rubbing his thumbs against his fingers in a nervous rhythm.

Without a word, he reached out, stopping Rodney with a gentle tug on the arm. He lifted Rodney's hands for a closer look and frowned at the sight—skin reddened and beginning to look raw from the repetitive motion. Then, for only the second time ever, Ronon pulled him in. The hug was awkward and unpracticed, more of a firm grip and a few solid pats on the back than anything. When they stepped apart, an uncomfortable silence lingered between them, softened by a shared, reluctant smile and light laughter.

"I'm glad you're alive," he said.

Rodney smiled. "S-so am I. S-sorry about your face."

Ronon gingerly touched the bruise blossoming darkly across the bridge of his nose and into each eye. "Was an accident. It'll heal."

"You s-should take a swim in the waters, that would heal it up nicely."

Ronon laughed gruffly. "I've had enough of water for a while."

They headed into the back of the Vipen where they found warm blankets on the seats and pulled them over their shoulders. Rodney curled up, pulling the blanket over his head and snuggled himself comfortably. The man had barely moved without blinding agony in days, so Ronon was pleased to see him so relaxed and pain-free. It took less than five minutes for him to fall asleep and start snoring, and Ronon was envious of his ability to shut down so quickly.

John hopped on board, looking happier than Ronon had seen him in some time. He grabbed a blanket and pulled it around himself, sitting near Ronon.

"I thought that went well," he said, a cheeky glint in his eyes. "Well, until you slapped his back so hard I'm sure part of his brain flew out his nose, but you got your point across."

Ronon chuckled and pulled the blanket tighter. "So long as he knows."

"He knows," John said. "After all of this, I think we all know."

The Vipen engines began to drone and the hatch closed on Ignothia, the ship lifting into the air. Ronon closed his eyes even though the journey back would only take ten to fifteen minutes. He couldn't keep them open any longer and felt himself slide to the side until he came into contact with the side of the ship, and fell asleep even faster than Rodney.

...
Nearly finished!

Chapter Text

Chapter 52

It was already the middle of the night on Caronaa. The three Jumpers sat next to the barn which now sat in darkness. No longer a makeshift hospital, it had been emptied once the last Goh tank was removed and taken to Ignothia. All that remained inside were some pitiful mattresses and blankets for the Atlanteans, with the three Jumper teams already asleep in some of them. Lorne had been the last to retire and said goodnight before crawling into his lumpy bed. Though the Atlanteans were guests, it was apparent they were not considered esteemed and never had been despite their help with the plague.

Teyla and Carson sat by the pond in the centre of the village, processing everything they had experienced throughout the day. At the forefront of their minds and the dominant topic of conversation, was the horrific death of the Groten. It lay heavy on their minds and made Carson question how far the Caronaans would go to further themselves. He had witnessed their eagerness to acquire anything that would further their advancement, even though they were already one of the ruling planets on this side of the Pegasus galaxy.

He feared they might take advantage of the Goh, especially once the cured Caronaans reappeared in public. Until now, their recovery had been kept secret, hidden away in Central, while their health was monitored. But once the news broke and people saw the miracle for themselves, Carson expected a surge in demand for more cures—the ramifications of which would be devastating.

"Do you truly think they would go as far as to use the Goh despite freeing them from the Groten?" Teyla asked.

"I've no doubt they will consider it. And if one of the big wigs catches wind of it, you can be assured that Ignothia will be plundered just as heavily as before."

"We have to ensure this does not happen. Perhaps speaking with the minister might help?"

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Carson said with a dry laugh. "The man can't stand me as it is. If I walked in there demanding he forget about the biggest medical breakthrough in history, he'd probably have me strapped into the interrogation chair myself."

Teyla shuddered. "You should not joke about such a thing."

"I'm sorry, lass," he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "That was insensitive."

Teyla nodded and tried to smile, her eyes haunted by what they'd seen. "We must figure out a way to protect the Goh. We cannot abandon them now, not after everything they have done for us."

"I think the only way to do that would be to stop the Caronaans getting to them. Cut off the supply, so to speak."

"That will be most difficult. They can fly there any time they wish."

"Yes, they can…" Carson said with a faraway look and a voice that faded to a whisper.

"What?"

"Well, they can only get to Ignothia through the Gate. But what if the Gate was no longer an option?"

"You wish to disable their Stargate?"

"No, that would be wicked. But we could disable the Ignothian one."

"Then Ignothia would be lost to us."

"Not necessarily. We have the Daedalus. It might take us a couple of weeks to get there, but we could get there."

A terrible scream from a dying animal rose from the forest and splintered the silence. It ended suddenly, making Teyla wince. Beside her, Carson yawned and stretched his arms above his head.

"I think I'll head to bed," he said getting to his feet. "I think you should, too."

"No, I wish to wait a little longer, and greet them when they return."

Carson nodded with understanding, and Teyla was grateful he didn't push the matter. She couldn't sleep, not with everything on her mind. He bid her goodnight and retired to the barn, leaving her alone beneath the pale light of the Caronaa moons, her gaze fixed on the distant stars above.

Rodney had been taken to Ignothia many hours ago, but no messages or updates had come through, and the silence gnawed at her. She couldn't help but think something had happened. The cured returned within a couple of hours, fully healed and able to walk from the Vipens that landed on Central Square. She had searched among their faces for Rodney and the others, and her disappointment and unease increased with every Vipen that returned without them. Teyla wasn't one to fear easily, but not knowing what was happening was a torment. What if Rodney didn't heal, or worse, not return at all…? She clenched her jaw and pushed the thought away.

She tried to meditate to ground herself, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the last time she saw Rodney. She'd seen him not long after he'd woken in the stasis pod full of Ignothian water. At first, he seemed well, awake and communicating, even managing a few steps before she'd had to leave. But she'd seen the pain behind his eyes, the tightness of his frame, and heard the agony with every breath he exhaled. The water hadn't healed him, merely patched him up a bit and Teyla worried that this might be the extent of the water's properties for Rodney.

The village around her slept, quiet and undisturbed. She stood, thinking about the three men who should have returned by now. Four strangers from worlds apart, finding each other in the same space and time, becoming a family against all the odds, and Teyla was thankful for such fate. They had all started as colleagues, three eventually becoming four with Ronon's arrival. Through years of travelling together, battles and close calls, the three men had become her brothers, not by blood, but by choice and time. Now, she just needed them to come home.

John was like the elder brother, the wise one, the peacekeeper, and the one who held their family together. John kept a cool head when things were falling apart, retaining a quiet wit and an intelligence he often tried to hide. He'd always been calm under fire, and steady when the rest of them shook. He smoothed conflict, encouraged compassion, spoke gently, and planned carefully. He was the glue that held them together, and the sensible one who stopped them from falling apart. Underneath the logic and quiet patience was a love so deep that John would walk through fire to save it because he cared almost too much. Teyla knew that to John, holding them together wasn't just a duty, it was love and devotion.

Ronon was the middle brother. The one who was bigger, stronger, always trying to prove himself the fiercest. He was the protector who kept the family safe and who would do anything for them. He'd watch the door while they slept and make sure he was first into battle. He growled more than talked, and most people thought he was just angry all the time, but Teyla knew that was just how Ronon kept himself together. While he didn't show love by conventional means, he showed he cared by standing in the way of what might hurt someone. Teyla knew he was a man who would do anything for the people he called family. He was their shield, fierce, loyal, and unshakable.

Then there was Rodney, like the youngest brother, he was the one who sometimes annoyed, sometimes amazed, and the one they all protected in one way or another. He talked too fast and thought even faster, a genius with a temper and a wild confidence that often led him into danger. He could be reckless, and impulsive and often needed saving from himself. But he could be kind and thoughtful in ways that most people missed because he wielded snark as a shield after years of being used and abused. He cared quietly, by fixing things before being asked, sitting nearby when someone was upset, and offering warmth when they were hurting. He often acted like he didn't care, but Teyla knew he cared so much it scared him.

She continued staring at the sky, seeing only stars. Cold began to seep into her bones so she started pacing around the village square, arms folded against the chill air, waiting for a sign. And then she heard it. Faint at first, the unmistakable sound of Vipen engines came from the north. Teyla stopped pacing and stared in the direction, searching for a moving light that would show her the ship's approach. Her eyes bounced from star to star, searching for one that moved until she saw it, a growing dot of light speeding through the night. It had to be them, all of the Caronaans had returned except for two warriors who stayed behind with Rodney and the pilot of the Vipen currently heading her way.

It approached fast, engines roaring through the night, then softened to a low drone as the craft slowed, no doubt aiming for a quiet descent toward the sleeping village. It landed near the Jumpers, the engines whining down until they just ticked and clicked, cooling in their mounts. Teyla hurried over, eager but also feeling a little anxious. The rear hatch opened and then swung down to form a ramp, the two warriors disembarking first. They waved to her as they stomped by and walked to the barn. John sauntered out into the night air behind them, yawning, not immediately seeing her. He stretched his back until it cracked then looked back up the ramp.

"I dunno about you guys, but I could sleep for a—" he grinned, surprised to see her. "Teyla!"

She smiled. "Well?"

"See for yourself," he replied, thumbing towards the ramp.

When she finally saw Rodney, tears welled in her eyes. He stepped off the ramp and walked forward as if nothing had happened to him. He no longer stooped or cradled himself, his face was free from signs of pain and he breathed easily. He was speaking with Ronon, who looked a little worse for wear. She ran forward, stopping in front of Rodney who halted mid-stride. A tear rolled down her cheek even as she beamed, relieved to see him whole once again.

"Hey," he said softly, smiling as he reached to wipe away the tear. "You okay?"

"Am I okay? I am fine! Especially now you have returned!"

"She's glad I'm back," he said over his shoulder to Ronon who rolled his eyes.

Teyla rested her hands on his shoulders and bowed her head. She heard Rodney's uneven breath, sensed his hesitation and feared he would not respond. Then she felt the light press of his forehead against hers, and in that quiet moment, she offered silent thanks to the Ancestors for his safe return. When she finally lifted her head and moved to step back, he caught her off guard, his arms wrapping around her in a hug so tight it nearly stole her breath.

"Are you really okay?" he whispered as she buried her head in his shoulder.

"I am," she replied and squeezed him back.

"Well, I'm tired," Ronon growled. "I'm going to the barn."

"Do you not wish to greet me, Ronon?" Teyla asked as Rodney let her go.

He stopped and turned back, looking miserable. She could see he felt left out, and he was the only one who remained injured, though where the bruise across his face came from she couldn't guess. He stood with his shoulders low, posture slack, wearing that familiar, guarded look as if he didn't care. But she knew he did. So she walked to him when he didn't make a move, and she reached up, placed her hands on his shoulders then bowed her head, but Ronon didn't respond. Instead, he whisked her off her feet and laughed heartily as he spun her in a circle, holding her tight with his good arm. He slowed and let her drop to her feet, smiling down at her as she found her balance.

"Okay, kids, time to hit the hay," John said walking toward the barn. "We have a long day ahead of us, and then, we get to go home."

"Now that, I am excited about," Rodney said, following him. "I've missed my custom orthopaedic mattress more than ever on this mission. My back just can't take lying on anything else. I get sore when I don't sleep on it, and I get grumpy when I'm sore, so it's a vicious cycle, really. Oh, and did I tell you about my shower? I modified it last month to always be the exact temperature and pressure I like, so I can jump in any time and it will always be just right. I could fix all of yours to be the same if you want. And, oh God, I hope the canteen has made that Athosian soup with the crunchy bits in it. A bowl of that with a nice crusty bread—"

"Would you please shut up?" John said, facing him with his hands on his head, gripping his hair. "You're like a kid who scoffed a whole damned bag of candy!"

Rodney chuckled but quieted anyway. He brushed past him and headed for the barn. "Took you longer to scold me than I expected," he said with a grin, slipping through the door.

"He's back," Ronon smirked.

"Oh he's back alright," John replied with exasperation. "He already makes me want to tear my hair out!"

Teyla followed them into the barn, smiling happily. As they bedded down for the night, she lay awake a while, her mind not quite ready for sleep. Everything was as it should be. All were safe and whole, and everyone would return home from this most complicated mission. She thought of everyone who slept in the barn and thanked the Ancestors that she was placed in their lives. From Lorne and Stackhouse to Teldy, Mehra, and the rest of their teams, Teyla offered silent thanks. They had risked their lives without hesitation, without question, and with no thought for themselves. They acted out of duty, but also compassion, driven by the belief that saving lives and preserving a species was reason enough. Though she knew they could never hear her thoughts of thanks, she decided that she would have to show her gratitude somehow. Once they got home, she would endeavour to repay their kindness, though she wasn't sure how. But that would be tomorrow's problem. Sleep took her gently for the first time in days, and she slept the night through in comfort and in the knowledge that everyone was safe.

..

Cookies?

Chapter Text

Chapter 53

Light crept over the Caronaan sky just a couple of hours after the last of the Vipen had returned. Dawn was breaking when Carson Beckett woke with a sharp ache in his spine and a throbbing headache behind his eyes. He cursed the thin mattress, shoved off the musty blanket, and dragged his legs out in front of him as he sat up. He shivered and licked his lips which were as dry as his throat. His skin felt overheated, his body heavy with exhaustion and he felt as if he hadn't slept at all. Tugging at the collar of his t-shirt, he tried to pull in some cooler air and promised himself that he would sleep a full day once back on Atlantis—so long as there were no emergencies.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes then looked over the sleeping people scattered about the barn. When he saw Rodney snoring on his back, drool dripping from his mouth, he smiled, glad to see his friend back in one piece. John was in the bed on his other side, curled up with the blanket tucked under his chin. Carson could swear he was sleeping with one eye open but he didn't react when Carson gave a small wave. Teyla, a beauty even in sleep, lay on her back, her lips delicately upturned. Then Carson noticed the man in the next bed and frowned.

He stood up, suppressed a pained moan as a spasm shot through his back and he placed a hand to massage it until it stopped. He quietly crept past the two sleeping men nearest him and stopped next to the bed of Ronon Dex, his annoyance growing as he looked him over. He was out cold, unusually oblivious to Carson's presence which in itself was a concern. Carson thought it was little wonder given that, for some reason, he remained injured and unhealed. He could see the still splinted arm, the lacerations to his arm and neck, and a fresh dark black bruise that marred his face. Given where he had been the day before, Carson couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then Ronon shifted groggily, suddenly aware of the gawking presence and jerked fully awake. He bolted upright, his hand moving to grab the particle magnum until he realised it was Carson.

"Doc?"

"Are you for real?!" Carson whispered and glared at him.

Ronon blinked in confusion, wiping his hand across his face. "What?"

He just shook his head and headed to the door, leaving Ronon to slump back into his bed with a huff. Carson's mood worsened when he stepped outside and found it dull and overcast. It must have rained since he went to bed as the ground was wet and muddy in patches. He headed to the Jumpers to grab himself some painkillers as his back and head hurt all the more with the weight of his bad mood.

)0(

They had been afforded ten modified biosuits after accounting for the size of the Groten ships and the calculations of how few crew members would be needed to operate even one of them. With ten suits, they could run two ships and have the two spare suits to act as a go-between when Goh clocked out to return to the birthing valleys. The Goh would need to work everything out for themselves, the Atlantean's only job was to get them ready.

Lorne, Stackhouse, and Teldy's teams worked together as Teldy's Jumper was experiencing yet another breakdown. Caran insisted she could fix it, only for Rodney to step in and take control. He reasoned that it would probably fall on him to fix it anyway, and said he would rather spend a couple of hours fixing it now than have to return to Caronaa again too soon. Caran grudgingly said she would help, but with his usual smug certainty, Rodney informed her he didn't need her help and waved her off with a flick of his hand. What followed was a heated exchange between the two scientists, each loudly insisting on their superior intellect. The loud contest of egos did nothing to help Carson's pounding headache.

It concluded when John stepped in and sided with Rodney. He trusted Rodney more than anyone when it came to fixing things that no one else could. So John gave the order for the remaining teams to head home to Atlantis once they were finished delivering the biosuits to Ignothia. Such was his faith in Rodney. Some might think it reckless, but as Carson watched Rodney work and John help when he could, he saw it wasn't with recklessness that he made the decision, it was with trust. Rodney said he could fix it, and John believed him. At present, Rodney was up to his ears in wiring and components, talking to John while Carson sat in the rear of the Jumper, handing over tools when asked.

"The most viable plan would be to reprogram the Ignothian Gate to stop the Caronaa gate connecting to it. It should be easy enough," Rodney's voice dropped conspiratorially as a Caronaan warrior stomped past the Jumper.

"I think you're missing something important," John replied. "Both are more or less space Gates. How the hell do you suggest we program it?"

"Ah, that's the clever part," Rodney grinned. "We use the DHD in the Jumper. There's no way I'd ever get to reprogram the Gate here on Caronaa, so this is the next best plan. And we'll need a biosuit, just in case."

"I highly doubt the Caronaans will give you another suit. Anyway, how do you know they are space... safe?"

"Because I've seen the schematics of the suits, I know what they are capable of. And I'm pretty sure I can get one."

"Pretty sure or pretty hopeful?"

"Pretty sure. I mean, how difficult would it be to sneak a non-modified one into the mix? I was in the warrior complex, there are tons of them and I could sneak in and get one. No one will know it's me inside."

John nodded, growing more certain of the plan. "Yeah, you might be on to something."

"You think?" Rodney managed to look offended even as he smiled.

"Okay, so you get a suit, you bring it back here, but what reason..."

Carson stopped listening to the conversation. His head hurt even more than it had that morning and his back was a gnawing ache. He ambled over to the pond, popped two painkillers in his mouth, and scooped some water in his hand to swallow them. He sat on the pond wall, leaning over with his elbows on his knees. He just wanted a few minutes of peace to rest and gather his thoughts without listening to convoluted plans and technical talk. Knowing he would be home by nightfall made him feel a little better, but his headache was beginning to make his eyes hurt and him miserable. He saw the other teams board their Jumpers and take off, watching them disappear into the grey sky, wishing he was on one.

"You alright?" a gruff voice sounded beside him.

Carson looked around to see Ronon, rubbing his strapped arm in discomfort. The sight of him soured Carson's mood more than ever and he just grunted and looked away.

"What's wrong?"

"Leave me alone."

"Doc?"

Carson cursed, got to his feet and walked away from him. He heard Ronon hastily jog up behind him and he rolled his eyes. "Will yeh jist gie me some peace?"

"Not until you tell me what I've done to offend you."

Carson twisted to face him and said, "You really want tae go there? Alright then, you, me, the barn, now."

He hurried ahead and stepped inside the barn before Ronon even blinked. The Caronaan equivalent of a dog sniffed around inside, its mane of long dark fur sweeping the ground as it paced. Carson followed its movements until it approached and began snuffling around his feet. He blinked and looked around the barn, momentarily forgetting why he had come inside. Then he leaned down to pat the dog, feeling dizzy as a shiver ran through him, even though he felt burning hot. He smiled faintly as the dog licked his hand then he heard the barn door open and remembered why he was there, his hazy thoughts coalescing into fury.

"What's this about, Doc?"

"Listen here, big man. I warned yeh not to go on any mission, and yeh went anyway. The fact yeh were right there, at the water, and didnae get yersel healed? It's beyond belief! And whit the hell happened to yer face? It wisnae like that before!"

"An accident. And I could hardly go for a swim while holding McKay," Ronon said with impressive patience, finding Carson's choice of words perplexing. "Nothing I can do about it now."

"Nothing?! I'll tell yeh exactly whit you can dae. Yeh can get in the next Jumper heading back to Ignothia and get yersel fixed, pronto! I didnae patch yeh all up just to go hame in pieces! For God's sake man, this disnae make yeh mair impressive, no' tae me. It makes yeh an absolute numpty!"

Ronon pulled himself to his full height and ground his teeth. "I don't need to impress anyone," He glowered at Carson, his left hand pulling into a tight fist that he struggled to keep by his side.

"That meant to scare me, big man? Aye right," Carson scoffed. "I grew up in Scotland, I've met scarier blokes than you in the bloody supermarket!"

Ronon's patience finally gave and he yelled, "Then go back to Scotland and stop bothering me!"

"Go b... Go back to Scotland?! Yeh cheeky wee shite!"

Both men stepped forward at once, squaring off with barely contained hostility. A blur of black shot between them. It was John, shoving them apart with his arms raised. "Whoa, whoa! What the hell is going on here?" he barked, eyes darting between the two.

"Ask this eejit!" Carson all but shouted and walked away to stand by the barn door with his arms crossed.

Ronon moved menacingly forward to follow him but John stopped him with a palm to his chest. "Why don't we just calm down and talk about whatever this is like adults," John said.

Ronon stepped back, his nostrils flaring as he bared his teeth. "I don't know what his problem is. I woke up and he was standing over me. Now he's up for a fight." he growled.

"A fight?" John said, astonished.

"Well, nae bloody wonder!" Carson shouted. "D'yeh know how hard it is tae put yeh all back th'gither, then watch yeh get blown tae smithereens and hae eh start all o'er again? Nearly every mission yeh go on, yeh come back either injured or dying of god alone knows whit, and it's me that's tae work roond the bloody clock caring for yeh. It's soul-destroying having tae watch my friends suffer. But tae hiv' the opportunity to get fixed completely, and no' jump at it, that's like kicking me in the baws!"

"Take it easy, Doc." John got the gist of Carson's words and spared a quick, bewildered glance at Ronon who shrugged, equally baffled over how Carson was acting. "We know how hard you work to keep us going and we appreciate it. We're going back to Ignothia later today for a final meeting with the Goh, Ronon can take a swim then. I'll make sure of it myself."

"Aye, like yeh made sure yesterday, eh? I thought you of all people wid've ensured everyone returned in wan piece."

"You can lead a horse to water, and all that," John said, trying to lighten the mood.

"D'yeh think this is funny, Colonel?" Carson said pushing from the wall. "It's no' funny,! Yeh's dinnae think about me at all, dae yeh?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Carson." John watched him closely, his brow furrowed as he casually walked closer, sensing something was wrong. "I already told you I'll make sure he gets in the water. Don't you think this is an overreaction?"

"Aye, well, if that's whit...yeh thi...think…"

Carson shuddered, heat burning through him while his body trembled as if freezing. His eyes rose, turning back in his head as his mouth slackened and a quiet moan escaped. He pitched forward, his head dropping as if it was too heavy for his neck to support. He staggered a couple of steps, tripping over the dog which ran away yelping. Then his legs gave out and John rushed forward and grabbed him, easing him to the ground as he passed out.

"Goddamnit, I knew something wasn't right," John muttered as he knelt beside him, feeling the heat radiating off his body. "He's burning up. Get the others."

Ronon took off at a sprint as John dropped to his knees beside Carson, gripping his shoulders and shaking him. He called his name, but Carson didn't respond. His skin was burning hot and clammy, his eyes fluttering without opening. His body trembled, and he mumbled words John couldn't understand. Frantic, John grabbed a blanket and bolted outside to the pond, plunging it into the cold water before rushing back. He pressed the wet fabric to Carson's skin, trying to bring his fever down, though he already knew what this was. He had seen it before with Rodney when his infection was at its worst. The speed of its onset in Carson terrified him, and as the others burst into the barn behind him, John made a decision.

"What's wrong with him?" Rodney asked dropping by Carson's side.

"I think he has what you guys had," John replied. "Probably caught it while working in the labs."

"He seemed well yesterday, how did I miss this?" Teyla asked.

"You know it hits fast and hard without much warning, there was nothing to miss until now." He stood, worry darkening his features, eyes never leaving Carson. "We're leaving for Ignothia, now."

"How?" Rodney asked. "The Jumpers are gone already and Teldy's heap of junk isn't fit to fly!"

"Get it fit, get it going."

"I-I- don't-"

"Rodney, this," he waved his hand over Carson, "nearly killed you."

Rodney gulped and nodded. "Okay, get him into the Jumper and I'll be with you in a minute."

"Where the hell are you going?!"

"I'll get the biosuit, it will make things easier."

)0(

The sky was grey and overcast and Ignothia was shrouded in mist. When they got lower the land became clearer, and they flew over a sandy expanse where the grounded Groten ships sat. A Sentry waved up as they passed overhead. The ships were fully repaired, and it looked as though the last of the Caronaans were about ready to leave for home. John checked for any sign of Lorne or Stackhouse, but it appeared that they had already headed back home, leaving him to hope that the Jumper he was flying wouldn't run into any more trouble.

"He's really burning up," Rodney said fearfully.

"We're nearly there," John reassured him, flying towards the crevice.

"How will we get him down?"

"I'll take him down," John replied. "You had a shot in the biosuits, and I wouldn't mind one myself before we go home."

John was already opening the hatch as the Jumper came into land and they were moving as soon as it touched down. Teyla and Rodney talked him through the suit and what to expect as John opened its hatch. One part of him couldn't wait to play around in it, another part just wished to hurry Carson down to the water.

"It will feel strange when the interface starts," Rodney said. "Breathe through it."

John nodded as he stepped up and into the biosuit. Rodney closed it and John felt the suit-conforming action start until he was snuggly held within it. He closed his eyes tight when white noise and confusion burst into his mind as the interface started up. He did as Rodney said and it was over in moments. When he opened his eyes again, he grinned, seeing the HUD floating before his eyes and flexed the arms and legs to get a feel for them.

"Oh, hell yeah," he whispered in awe.

"I take it you like it?" Teyla said.

"If there is any chance of taking one of these back home, I'm all for it," he replied.

He lifted Carson's limp body into the suit's arms with ease and moved swiftly toward the edge of the crevice. With surprising control, he shifted Carson into one arm and began climbing down the wall, amazed at how intuitive the suit felt. The others followed close behind and as he reached the water's edge, John heard a low groan from Carson.

"I shall hold him safe," Teyla said getting into the water.

"I can just take the suit in," John replied but she shook her head.

"No, I want to." She swiftly sank until her feet rested on the underwater ledge and raised her arms.

"Okay…" John passed Carson into her care, and then disconnected from the suit and climbed back out to wait.

"You better get in, too," John said pointedly to Ronon who'd only just managed to climb down the wall. "If he wakes up and you still look like that, there will be hell to pay."

Ronon just stood there, looking at Carson as Teyla did her best to keep him afloat and his head above water.

"Ronon?" John said when he didn't move.

"I didn't know," he replied, looking lost.

"None of us knew."

"But I should have. He never acts or speaks like that, I should have known."

"This is no one's fault," John said. "Not yours, not mine."

"Yeah, but you didn't nearly punch a sick man unconscious."

"Who did what now?!" Rodney said with surprise, turning away from the modified biosuits he'd been inspecting by the wall.

"It was a misunderstanding," John said, glaring at Rodney to be quiet. "You can make it up to him by getting in the water and staying there until you're in better shape."

Ronon didn't look in the least bit happy, but he slipped into the water anyway, swimming silently across the crevice. He reached the far side and floated there, brooding alone in the stillness.

"Right," John sighed. "Okay then."

"I'll head back up to the Jumper," Rodney said. "I'll see if I can figure out what's causing the system problems, then I'll have a look at the DHD."

John nodded, understanding that keeping himself occupied was how Rodney managed his stress. He wondered if he should go and help him when he heard Teyla gasp. He saw her slip from the ledge and struggle to get back on so headed over to help her.

"Let me take him for a while."

Teyla shook her head. "I am fine, I want to do this."

John stared at her and saw it wasn't just a desire to help Carson, but a need born of misplaced guilt. "There was nothing to miss, Teyla. This isn't your fault."

She smiled sadly. "We sat by the pond last night, waiting for you all to return. We sat for hours, yet there was no sign that I could see."

"Well there you go," John said, holding Carson while she adjusted her arms. "Not your fault, not Ronon's, not even Carson's. I doubt he even knew where he was earlier never mind knew he was ill."

Teyla pulled Carson tighter, her bottom lip quivering. "I wish we had never come on this mission," she whispered. "I just want to go home."

"We'll be home soon," John smiled, squeezing her shoulder. "And Carson will be fine, just look at me and Rodney."

From above they heard Rodney shouting and cursing from inside the Jumper, then a thud and a yell. They both quietly laughed and John stood up. "I better go help him."

"Yes, I believe you should," Teyla said, and John was happy to see she seemed brighter than before.

)0(

Carson's eyes fluttered open and he could have sworn he was still dreaming. He floated in water, weightless and light, in what appeared to be a cave. It was peaceful and he relaxed into the dream, feeling calm until the arm he hadn't noticed moved around his shoulders. He let out a yelp and threw off the arm, charging through the water in panic until he heard Teyla calling his name. He splashed around until he saw her floating by a ledge with a bemused smile.

"What in blazes is going on?!" he cried out, utterly baffled by where he was and why.

"We are on Ignothia, we had to bring you to the water," Teyla said.

"Whit? What the hell happened?!"

"What do you remember?" Ronon's low voice came from his side and Carson was startled at the sound.

"I remember saying goodnight and going to bed, and I think I woke up at some point, but that's about it. Why?" Ronon grinned and Carson had no idea why he looked so happy. "Would someone please tell me why I'm soaked to my short and curlies on a different planet to the one I fell asleep on?!"

Ronon laughed and clapped Carson on the back so hard he pitched forward, splashing face-first into the water. Spluttering, Carson surfaced and swam quickly back to the ledge, where Teyla was laughing. She extended a hand, and he took it, finding his footing beside her before settling at her side.

"You had a terrible fever and collapsed in the barn a few hours ago," she said.

"I did?!"

"Yeah, you did," Ronon said and swam closer until he was a few feet away. "Gave us a fright."

"Sorry. I didn't feel unwell when I went to bed," he said rubbing his neck self-consciously.

"John thought it was the same infection that Rodney and Ronon had."

"I can't imagine how. The only time I—" he fell silent, his mind suddenly back in the interrogation chair room. His eyes widened and his stomach flipped. "Oh bloody hell," he muttered, pulled at his shirt and attempted to look at the skin on his back.

"What?"

"When they were strapping the Groten in the chair, it caught me with its claw. I jumped out of the way but it caught my back, it felt like nothing more than a scratch!"

"Yeah, well that scratch could have killed you."

"Well, how the tables have turned," he said, relaxing against the ledge. "You guys saving me for a change."

"I did as you asked," Ronon said reluctantly.

"What?"

"I got in the water to heal."

"When did I—oh God…"

Ronon sniggered, tugging off the strapping from his arm. "Your Scottish dialect comes out real strong when you're angry."

Carson's face went scarlet, his eyes wide and he spluttered. "Did we, you know, come to blows?!"

"Nah, you came at me, then walked away and collapsed. Right up until you passed out you were ready to take me on. Said something about scarier men in supermarkets and called me a wee shite, whatever that is."

Carson was mortified. He stammered an apology while becoming oh-so-very interested in his wrinkled fingers. He found another thing to focus on when he heard Rodney and John climb down the wall, behind them.

"Ah, you're awake!" Rodney said brightly.

"Yeah, although, I kind of wish I wasn't," he murmured, eyeing Ronon. "I didn't know I was asleep, to be honest."

"Thought as much," John said. "How are you feeling?"

"Um, confused and a little silly," Carson replied, his face reddening again.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that while you've been sleeping, Rodney here has come up with a plan to keep the Goh safe from the Caronaans."

"Have you now?" Carson smiled and Rodney grinned back smugly.

"Of course," Rodney replied. "I plan to lock out Caronaa from this side."

"Are we not going back to Caronaa then?"

"Well, we came here in a hurry, so all our stuff is back there," John said. "But it will be a grab and go, I don't want to stay there any longer than we need to. We've spent enough time on that damned planet."

"And that Jumper is safe?"

"Carson, do you think I would risk my life in it if I didn't think it was?"

"Or ours for that matter," John added.

"Look, I've temporarily patched it. Amongst other things I'll need to fix, it looks as if the inertial dampers are causing the powerouts. There appears to be a miniscule lag and the system thinks we're pulling ten or more Gs so it cuts propulsion, which triggers a cascade event."

"So our heads don't pop," John added with a smirk.

Rodney let out an irritated huff. "This isn't a cartoon, your head's not going to pop. You'd black out, maybe burst a few blood vessels, and possibly die. So yes, you want these systems working. I've patched it for now, it'll hold long enough to get the job done."

John clapped his hands together. "Okay then, let's head back to Caronaa, say our goodbyes, get the plan rolling and get back home."

The thought of going home brought a smile to Carson's face, and he climbed out of the water with new energy, and a little too quickly. A wave of dizziness hit him, but a firm hand caught his arm and kept him upright. He glanced up and let out a quiet chuckle, seeing it was Ronon, his once-injured arm now fully healed and holding him steady.

"I stand by what I said. You're an eejit for not getting that fixed yesterday."

.

Surprise! Extra chapter! What? You thought they would get away so easily? Come on, I'm a Whumper! What did you expect?! But, I thought it would be an amusing little chapter. I've always imagined Carson's Scottishness coming through when he is upset. I am Scottish, and you have no idea how difficult it is to write Scottish and still make it readable! I speak it, but gawd, it's hard to read and write it! Anyway, the final chapter will be up very soon! :D

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