Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Chapter 23

His team would find him.

John was certain of that. They wouldn’t stop until they did. He’d learned his lesson at the Ancient Sanctuary; had spent months believing they’d given up on him only to learn that they hadn’t at all even if their effort had been counted in hours not the days he had endured. But he’d learned; he had to keep faith and they would come for him.

And Mitchell’s team was no doubt looking for him right alongside his own team; Mitchell, who was currently gone from the cell and locked up somewhere with a Lucien Alliance operative who loved torture and pain games. John shook the thought away. Mitchell was too valuable for Allia to kill. He would survive whatever Allia would do to him.

In the meantime, John lectured himself, he had to concentrate on finding a way to escape. He walked the length of the room and briskly shook his arms, trying to get the blood flowing to get warm. He’d managed some rest before the cold had brought him out of his doze. If someone didn’t bring clothes or a blanket they were going to be screwed, John thought morosely, because it was too cold in the cell to be in the state of undress that he and Mitchell found themselves.

Maybe it wasn’t the ambient temperature of the ship itself, John mused as he paced. Maybe the temperature was affected by the outside. If they were far south it would explain the cold. He remembered the cold weather training he’d received prior to being sent to McMurdo and shivered again.

A scrape of a bolt going back had him freezing in place. He moved to the side of the door again and squinted ready for the lights going on which they did with alacrity. He’d barely made a move when the zat gun appeared in his face.

‘Don’t move! Back up against the far wall!’ The same goon who had taken Mitchell away pushed the zat gun forward threateningly.

‘OK, OK.’ John held up his hands surrendering. He kept going backwards until his back hit the wall and waited.

The guard grunted and stepped to the side, zat gun still poised. A woman entered carrying a tray of food and a blanket. She placed both on the ground in the centre of the room and walked back to the guard.

Gina Lovell, John identified as he watched her take the zat gun and hold it with the same assured quality the guard did; the same quality that told John she knew how to use it and would if he made the slightest wrong move.

‘You can leave. Close the door behind you.’ She ordered.

John saw the guard hesitate minutely before nodding and moving away. The door shut with a hard thump.

‘Eat.’ Lovell ordered.

He glanced down at the tray of food; a bowl of soup or broth, some bread and cheese. There was a mug of coffee, the scent drifting up to tempt him. His stomach growled. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘It’s not drugged.’ Lovell assured him. ‘Allia prefers her guests are fully aware of what she puts them through.’

John walked over and sat down slowly. He pulled the blanket around himself, grateful for the warmth of the scratchy grey wool and that the size meant he could cover himself completely. He reached for the coffee first and took a hesitant sip. The caffeine jolted his system and woke up his taste buds; the warmth flooded through his chest and belly. He set the coffee aside and picked up the spoon.

Lovell watched him, her sharp gaze intent on his every move.

The soup was good; chicken, hint of garlic, some parsley and white wine. He could taste onion, celery and carrot in the stock. He dipped a chunk of bread. ‘I should probably thank you.’

‘Allia ordered you were to be fed. You don’t have to thank me.’ Lovell stated harshly.

John waved his spoon. ‘I meant I should thank you for revealing the plot that Mitchell was going to be kidnapped.’

‘I was under orders to do that too.’ Lovell shot back.

John shrugged and tugged his blanket back into place when it was in danger of falling. He took another bite of soup. ‘Mostly, I feel sorry for Stan. You know the guy you set up to be the patsy.’

Lovell flinched. Her face paled. ‘How is he?’

Interesting, John considered. He could almost believe that she cared. ‘He’s fine. He helped us find the cell you had set up. The NID chastised him for his lone action but since you’d fooled everybody not just him, he didn’t get any further punishment.’ He waited a beat. ‘Not that you care about that, right?’

Lovell flushed. Her freckled face burned bright red before she scowled at him. ‘You don’t know anything about my relationship with Stan.’

‘I know that you pretended to be his friend…’ John needled, licking his spoon.

‘It wasn’t a pretence!’ Lovell snapped. She shifted position against the wall but the zat gun remained steady in her grip. ‘Like I said you don’t know anything about it. I had no choice.’

‘There’s always a choice.’ John countered.

Lovell sneered at him. ‘And you know nothing about living under the rule of the Alliance.’

John dipped more bread and chewed it thoughtfully. He reached for his spoon. ‘You’re right.’ He conceded.

She lifted her eyebrows in startled fascination. ‘You’re admitting I’m right?’ She sounded incredulous.

‘I don’t know anything about living under the rule of the Alliance,’ John repeated; he lifted a shoulder and gave a half-smile. ‘I’ve barely lived in this galaxy at all in the past five years.’ He held her gaze. ‘As you know.’

‘Yes, because you’ve stolen Atlantis just as you’ve stolen other valuable artefacts that should have been ours.’ Lovell argued.

‘I had this same argument with a Council of Pegasus planets once.’ John said. He pushed away the memory of his trial and realised Lovell was looking surprised again. ‘Did you think you were the only one who has claims on her? If we left, you don’t think there aren’t a half-dozen civilisations – and I lose the term loosely – waiting to take her over?’

‘We have as much right as anyone.’ Lovell countered.

‘You’re not even in the same galaxy.’ John shot back. He didn’t think the Alliance knew about Atlantis being on Earth and he wasn’t going to give away that she was. ‘What makes your claim any more valid than ours? At least, the Pegasus worlds are there.’ He pressed. ‘And can you even use the technology?’

‘We have the Ancient gene therapy.’ Lovell said calmly. ‘We should probably thank you for that.’

‘The gene therapy is great.’ John agreed. ‘But it doesn’t always work. For every Ancient device that allows the fake gene to work, there’s one that doesn’t.’

Lovell shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

‘I don’t expect you to.’ John admitted. ‘But I’m telling the truth. Sometimes you need the real thing.’

‘Well, now we have you.’ Lovell said and he could see he’d convinced her. It was partly true although the percentages weren’t as fifty-fifty as he made them. Ninety-nine per cent of the time, the fake gene worked just as well as his own, but there was that one per cent that baulked and wanted a real expression and usually that one per cent only wanted John’s shiny Ancient gene which surpassed even that of Jack O’Neill’s.

‘You have me now,’ John agreed calmly, ‘but not for much longer knowing my team and SG1.’ He knew he radiated confidence and when Lovell shifted again, another minute redistribution of her weight, he knew she was convinced he was right about his imminent rescue too.

He picked up the bowl and tilted it to scoop up the last of the soup. He focused on eating for a long moment before he finished and set it aside. The mug of coffee warmed his hands and he sipped it gratefully.

‘So, you say I don’t know anything about living under the Lucien Alliance,’ John said conversationally, ‘how about you tell me something?’

‘I’m not here to educate you.’ Lovell protested.

John remained silent and drank his coffee.

Lovell sighed with enough exasperation that he figured he was going on her list of Most Annoying Captives. ‘Fine. You want to know what it’s like? It’s hell. It’s day in and day out wondering whether today is the day that your leader will kill you because she’s upset or having a bad day or…’ she gestured with the zat gun, ‘it’s knowing that the rest would happily hand you to her for sport if it means they can go a day without being tortured or under her regard. It’s knowing you only have yourself to rely on every day, every hour.’

John swallowed his coffee. ‘Weren’t things the same under the Goa’uld?’ He found himself reluctantly interested.

‘Yes and no.’ Lovell said. ‘Each Goa’uld controlled vast territory; sometimes they left overseers, most of the time they didn’t.’

‘Ah,’ John got it, ‘so most planets were enslaved to the Goa’uld but were rarely visited.’

‘You paid your naquadah fee or whatever it was they waned and everything was fine.’ Lovell agreed. ‘Now though…the Alliance moved in on every world and since the Ori left…there’s no escape from them. They control everything.’

‘Not everything and every world.’ John countered, because he knew that much. There were safe worlds; worlds allied to the SGC or the Tok’ra or the Jaffa Confederate.

Lovell laughed humourlessly. ‘You mean the so called safe havens? The Tok’ra only want you if you consent to be a host; the Jaffa hate humans settling on their territory and…the Tau’ri only provide sanctuary if you have something to offer them.’

‘That’s not true.’ John immediately denied. ‘We give people sanctuary all the time for no reason and no reward but because they’ve asked for it and it’s the right thing to do.’

Something flickered in her eyes.

‘They tell you differently, don’t they?’ John remarked. ‘They tell you that you have to have something of value for us because that’s the way they prevent you from turning to us.’

‘Yes.’ Lovell said quietly. ‘That’s what they tell us.’

John tilted his head and held her gaze. ‘Maybe you don’t know as much about us as you think you do.’

Lovell regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I’ve lived among you for a year. I’ve learned a lot.’

‘What have you learned?’ John was disheartened to get to the bottom of his mug. He put it down.

‘That your people don’t know the meaning of suffering.’ She said with renewed hostility as though taking offence to his question.

‘Well, that’s not true.’ John argued. ‘I think some of the Middle East and African countries would disagree. And even in the West and more industrialised parts of the world, there are people who suffer; who live in poverty and go hungry and cold. Who end up being bullied and hurt because their leaders don’t do enough to help them.’

Lovell sighed. ‘It’s still safer here than anywhere else in the galaxy.’

John didn’t discount her opinion; he imagined Earth was safer in comparison than some other places for all it was a target. Homeworld did a lot to ensure that the public never knew about the alien threat; to keep their world safe from harm. The dangers on Earth though were very much the dangers in the rest of the galaxy; tyrants and torture; death and destruction. Was the way they’d rushed in and dismantled the Goa’uld any better than the way they’d handled Afghanistan or Iraq?

‘At least you get to have friends here.’ Lovell said. A ripple of shock travelled over her large eyes as though she couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing.

John eased himself into a better sitting position and picked up the bread, folding it around the cheese like a sandwich. ‘Stanley.’ He guessed.

Lovell blushed again and didn’t reply.

‘He’s a nice guy.’ John commented. ‘We had breakfast with him when you sent him to Miami. Seemed like a good guy who only wanted to do the right thing.’

‘He is a good guy.’ Lovell jumped to Stan’s defence. ‘He’s…he doesn’t realise how smart and special he is.’

‘And he was your friend.’ John stated firmly. ‘He’s really OK, you know. They didn’t dock his pay or fire him. I think he’s mostly hurt over the deception.’ He paused for effect. ‘He liked you; he thought you were his friend.’

Lovell’s features crumpled and for a moment John thought she was going to cry. She got to her feet in a rush. ‘You’re finished eating. Move back to the wall.’

He swallowed down the rest of the bread and moved. His legs were stiff with the cold but he got to his feet. He walked back slowly and sank back into a sitting position as Lovell collected the tray, keeping the zat pointed at him all the while.

‘You know,’ John said as casually as he could, ‘if you want sanctuary all you have to do is ask.’

Lovell’s eyes blazed at him. ‘You’re in no position to offer anything.’

John shrugged and tugged the blanket tightly around himself; he wasn’t giving it back. ‘You really think Mitchell and I aren’t going to survive and escape this?’ He gestured around the cell. ‘You’ve read the intelligence on us; you’ve heard the stories in the NID. You know what my team and SG1 are capable of doing; of surviving. Are you sure you want to bet on your boss?’

‘I know what you’re doing and it isn’t going to work.’ Lovell claimed. ‘I won’t help you escape.’

John smiled. ‘Then we’ll escape without you.’

Lovell scanned his face and frowned. ‘You really believe that, don’t you?’

John didn’t bother answering.

She sidled up to the door and banged on it loudly. It opened up and Lovell left. The cell plunged back into darkness.

John sank back down to the ground and let his head fall back onto the wall. ‘Should have done better, John.’ He chastised himself softly. ‘Should have convinced her to help.’

He shook off the negative thought and focused on the positive; Lovell wasn’t as faithful to the Alliance as the Alliance wanted her to be. Her time as Lovell had seduced her. Long term cover assignments were like that. Lovell actually did seem remorseful about Stanley; actually did seem to care for Stanley. They made an unlikely couple but no more so than Jennifer and Rodney.

Maybe he’d done enough to get Lovell thinking about helping them. An escape would be quicker if they had someone on the inside. He’d convinced Todd, the Wraith, to help him escape so it wasn’t outside of the realms of possibility that he’d convinced Lovell.

He sighed and moved; rewrapping the blanket around himself to create a sleeping bag effect. He closed his eyes and let himself drift.

He was so tired.

The day had been busy before they’d gotten captured and zatted. It was the middle of the night and he was exhausted. He didn’t blame Mitchell. Truthfully, Rodney had called it at the breakfast when John had announced the holiday; John had a habit of getting into trouble. John snorted. Rodney could talk. He’d whisked Jennifer off to some physics conference and ended up saving the world from apocalyptic freeze lightening. John chuckled. He’d wished he’d been there to see it. It would have been cool.

He snickered again. Mad; he was finally losing it, John thought amused. Either that or he’d spent too much time in cells; had gotten too used to being a captive. That was a possibility. Life just wouldn’t give him a break – or a vacation it seemed. His last vacation had stopped well short of the days of surfing and sun that he had been promised. He needed the time away from being in danger; being responsible; being captured…

Damn it.

John wasn’t stupid despite the fact that he kept up the pretence of not knowing as much as he did. It helped his job if people underestimated his intelligence and capabilities. Only Rodney had ever called him on it openly – to the point where occasionally Rodney would try and encourage him to do his doctorate; Teyla did it without words, with just a look, when she was sure that he was being stupid on purpose; John was certain Ronon knew but thankfully they’d never discussed it. Ever. He liked Ronon the best sometimes.

No, he wasn’t stupid. He was too aware that he needed the downtime. Some of it was grief and he could admit that if only to himself; he’d lost too many people in the last few years. Some of it was the pressure of command. He’d gotten the job because he’d killed Sumner. It had been a mercy killing but a killing. He’d stumbled through the first year not knowing what he was doing but trying his best. When Colonel Everett had arrived with the cavalry during the siege, a part of John had been grateful to relinquish the responsibility despite his misgivings over Everett’s own command style. The briefing on Earth drifted through his mind; he’d been convinced that he wouldn’t get command; that at best he’d be returned to Atlantis as a Major to serve under someone else. His promotion and assignment had been a shock…

O’Neill’s hand landed on his shoulder. ‘Hank, Elizabeth; you don’t mind if I steal our newest Lieutenant Colonel away for a brief chat?’

Elizabeth’s smile was tight but she nodded her acquiescence. Landry’s was gleeful.

John sighed and gave into the inevitable. ‘Sir.’

O’Neill led him through the SGC and out of the mountain. Somehow they ended up at O’Neill’s place, half-packed up with boxes everywhere, and sat out on his deck with two beers.

‘So,’ O’Neill said, ‘you’re the military CO now.’

John nodded. He couldn’t believe it.

‘You know it shouldn’t be you.’

The words hurt more than John was prepared to show; he liked O’Neill; thought O’Neill liked him. He stared at the beer in his hand.

‘You’re not ready.’ O’Neill continued. ‘Elizabeth likes you and she’s not prepared to listen because I, and the rest of the military, took her leadership away from her once and she’s making sure we can’t do it again. But there was a reason we appointed a Colonel in the first place and I think you know it.’

‘I don’t have enough experience.’ John said slowly.

‘No, you don’t.’ O’Neill said. His brown eyes met John’s with sympathy shining out of them like a beacon. ‘And I think I can guess how many times in the last year you’ve second guessed yourself and how many times you wished Sumner was around to deal with the crap you had to deal with. I’m also guessing that mixed in with the delight about your promotion – and you deserve it, don’t think you don’t – that there’s a fair amount of trepidation that you actually got assigned as CO because you already know it needs more experience than you have.’

John swallowed some of his beer and nodded sharply.

‘What you have, Sheppard, is great instincts, a truckload of luck and a leader who supports you.’ O’Neill added. ‘That counts for a lot.’

‘Yes, sir.’

O’Neill waved his beer at him. ‘I’m also giving you Evan Lorne.’

‘Lorne?’

‘Major. Experienced SGC team leader. Good guy.’ O’Neill reeled off. ‘He needs to think more outside of the box sometimes but he’s solid; good with procedures and, well, weirdness.’ He waited until John was looking at him again. ‘He’ll be your XO.’

‘I don’t get a choice.’ John stated, a little annoyed.

‘No,’ O’Neill said cheerfully, ‘you need Lorne; trust me on that.’ He smirked at John before he sobered abruptly. ‘You’ll do fine, Sheppard. You’ve been doing fine. If you hadn’t, no matter what Elizabeth wanted you wouldn’t have got the job.’ He patted his shoulder. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be great. Just you know…’ he waved his beer at him, ‘don’t get yourself killed.’

The bolts scraped open again and John snapped out of his doze, wondering how long it had been since he’d eaten and conversed with Lovell. He lurched to his feet, got tangled in the blanket and had only just righted himself when Mitchell was pushed unceremoniously through the door.

John gave up any idea of overpowering the glowering guard and instead caught Mitchell; his arms automatically going around the other man as he leaned to take Mitchell’s weight.

‘Sorry,’ gasped Mitchell, clutching at John’s shoulders.

”S’OK.’ John said as the door closed and locked again.

He staggered back to the wall and slowly, as slow as he could manage, lowered Mitchell down to the ground. His eyes catalogued Mitchell’s injuries. There was bruising around his face; a burn mark on his chest; a hand print along one bicep; scratch marks along his ribs. His knees were purple with bruising and there was a row of livid welts along his back; he’d been flogged. John recognised the pattern from seeing it mark his own skin once.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’ Mitchell said quietly. ‘She had them heal some of it.’

John didn’t reply. He moved to retrieve the water bottle the guard had given him and held it out to Mitchell.

Mitchell took a couple of careful sips and handed it back. ‘Thanks.’

‘Did they at least feed you?’ John asked, feeling guilty about the meal he had consumed.

Mitchell nodded. ‘I had something.’ He breathed out sharply and held a hand to his chest. ‘I think they’ve demanded an exchange; me for the woman pretending to be Allia.’ His eyes met John’s regretfully. ‘I think they plan on keeping you.’

John’s heart jolted a little with the news but he smiled for Mitchell’s benefit. ‘Well, I am prettier than you.’

Mitchell laughed weakly.

‘You shouldn’t be on the floor when you’re injured; it’s too cold and you need to keep warm.’ John said. ‘And I don’t think you’re going to be able to move around on those knees much.’ He contemplated everything and sighed. He got the blanket and manoeuvred Mitchell forward until there was space between him and the wall. John climbed in behind him so that Mitchell ended up sat between the vee of his legs.

‘Uh, Sheppard…’

‘Cold weather training; you know the drill.’ John said succinctly. ‘Suck it up.’ He shifted, pushing his legs underneath Mitchell’s and levering them off the icy floor and ignored Mitchell’s grunt of pain. He spread the blanket over both of them, putting his arms around Mitchell to hold it as gently as he could over Mitchell’s chest.

‘Thanks.’ Mitchell said eventually. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate this but…’

‘Don’t worry,’ John said smiling, ‘it’s going on The List.’

Mitchell made a snuffle of agreement. ‘OK, then.’ He relaxed in John’s hold and John was pleased at the warmth of another body against his. ‘I need to tell you…things…’

‘Get some rest first, Mitchell.’ John ordered. ‘We can plan the escape later.’

‘OK.’ Mitchell sighed.

John waited and a few moments later he wasn’t surprised to hear Mitchell’s breathing even out. Mitchell’s weight slumped into John and he felt a rush of protectiveness. They needed to plan an escape because he was damned if he was losing Mitchell.

Chapter 24

Banks hadn’t said anything since just before the crash.

That was bad.

Cam knew it meant the kid was unconscious (or dead, but no; he wasn’t going there). He tried to shift but his legs were trapped under the twisted remains of the console. The wind was cold and battered his torn and bruised face. It was getting dark but he’d managed to switch the lights on so they’d be visible to a rescue.

If a rescue was coming…

It would come, Cam thought groggily. He just had to hold on. But it was so cold and he was in so much pain…he moved and it flashed through him again along his spine and down his ribs and God he couldn’t take it, couldn’t take it anymore and…

Cam jerked awake with a sharp cry. His body bowed upwards trying to escape the pain in his back. Arms immediately tightened around him to hold him steady; forceful but careful not to hurt him.

‘Easy, Mitchell.’ John whispered in his ear. ‘It’s OK. I’ve got you.’

John. He was with John and not trapped back in his crashed 302. Just captured by insane Lucien Alliance operatives and stuck on a ship in Antarctica, Cam’s mind supplied with dry irony.

‘Sorry.’ Cam said softly, relaxing. ‘Nightmare.’

John kept hold of him and Cam was grateful for the solidity of John’s presence warming his back.

‘You want to talk about it?’ John offered hesitantly.

‘Not really.’ Cam knew what had brought it on and there was something more important to focus on. ‘We need to get out of here.’

John made a humming sound in agreement. Cam eased away from John and John stilled him with one hand on his arm.

‘Shuffle forward. I’ll get up and help you.’ John was matter-of-fact as though the plan wasn’t necessary because Cam was badly injured.

Cam flushed anyway and nodded. He inched forward, aware of the pain that spiked through him with every move. Cold air wafted in the space he’d built between himself and John – John who was very carefully extracting his legs from under Cam’s. Cam sucked in a breath as sharp arrows of pain jolted through his knees.

‘Sorry.’ John said apologetically as he clambered to his feet. He crouched beside Cam for a long moment. ‘You ready?’

Cam clutched the blanket John had tugged around him and nodded. He grasped John’s hand and let the other man take most of his weight as they got upright. Cam grimaced and closed his eyes as he slowly took his own weight back onto his damaged knees.

‘OK,’ John said, ‘we’ll do a walk around the room to get loosened up and then a strategy session.’

Cam nodded in agreement. He opened his eyes and let John lead him round the room like he was an old man in need of a supportive hand at his elbow. It was excruciating but Cam had suffered worse during his recovery from the crash he had dreamt about and as his muscles warmed up, they loosened, easing the tension and pain to a more bearable level. By the time he’d made it back to the original spot, he didn’t need John to support him and Cam counted that as a win.

They sank back against the far wall and took turns taking a gulp of water from the bottle John had stashed away. John slid right up beside him and Cam rearranged the blanket over both of them; they needed to share body heat and what little covering they had.

‘We’re near Antarctica.’ Cam began. ‘That’s why it’s so cold. I could see land off to the side of the ship; it’s all covered in ice.’

‘So, good news is that we’re not far from help if we can get to McMurdo; bad news is that we need to acquire clothes before we step out onto the deck to get there.’ John listed off briskly.

Cam nodded. ‘I had clothes but they took them again. There’re two choppers and a 302 on the deck.’

John’s eyes lit up and he smiled; Cam could see it even in the darkness.

‘A helicopter?’ John sounded giddy. ‘I haven’t flown one since…well, actually, before I went to Atlantis.’

‘Well, you have to fly one today because we have to take a helicopter.’ Cam corrected immediately. ‘Amy’s here and…’ his voice gave way abruptly. He lifted a hand and rubbed tiredly at his forehead. God; Amy was a Goa’uld host.

‘Mitchell?’ John prompted. ‘They captured Amy?’

‘They’ve made her a host to try and get information out of me.’ Cam said roughly. His skin felt too tight; guilt and worry coalescing into an ugly tight ball in his stomach. ‘She’s being held in a room on the other side of the ship.’

‘That complicates things.’ John said crisply, staying in military mode and Cam was grateful for that.

Cam pulled himself out of his emotional morass to focus again. ‘I can find my way back there but the 302 only seats two so…’

‘So, we take a helicopter.’ John agreed. He tucked the blanket more securely around himself. ‘We’ll need to immobilise her.’

‘Zat.’ Cam replied promptly.

‘Which means we’re carrying her.’ John commented practically.

Or John was, Cam translated in his head because it was clear Cam would have a challenge to walk with his injuries never mind carry Amy.

‘OK, so; escape the cell, find some clothes, grab Amy, get to a helicopter and fly to McMurdo.’ John reeled off briskly. ‘Plan A shouldn’t be impossible.’

‘Any ideas on escaping the cell?’ Cam asked wearily. Because it was their greatest stumbling block.

‘I had an interesting chat with Gina Lovell.’ John relayed his conversation and Cam’s eyes widened with every revelation.

‘You think she has a thing for Stanley?’ Cam couldn’t believe it. ‘Our Stanley?’

‘I know.’ John said with obvious amusement. ‘But it could work in our favour.’

‘I’m not sure we have time for it to work in our favour.’ Cam admitted with reluctance. ‘Maybe we can try something when they come to take me again.’ He thought that was more likely to happen before Lovell changed her mind and helped them.

‘OK.’ John said. ‘Do you have any ideas how to take the guard out before we get zatted?’

Cam thought about it. ‘You got surprised by the lights.’

‘We got surprised by the lights and yeah; it takes at least a moment to adjust.’ John said defensively. ‘It gives them an advantage to get in and get the gun on us before we can do anything more than blink.’

‘I could take them out in the corridor.’ Cam said, thinking about the way they’d lined up. ‘There are two of them but not a lot of space; it’s doable.’ But not without risk and it would hurt like hell.

‘I think that’s our best option.’ John’s reluctance dripped heavily from every word. ‘If you can take them down, you can get me out. We can steal their clothes and take the zat.’

‘Make our way to Amy; get Amy; get back to a chopper.’ Cam concluded.

John frowned suddenly. ‘You said the 302 is on the deck?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Then why hasn’t the Odyssey located it already?’ John asked.

‘Cloak.’ Cam supplied. ‘Crap; I’d forgotten about that.’

‘We can blow up the ship enough to disrupt and bring down the cloak hopefully.’ John shifted beside him and Cam instinctively followed the warmth, pressing closer.

‘Cold?’ John asked concerned. He pushed back into Cam’s space and Cam sighed with relief as John’s heat helped soothe his battered body.

‘It had to be Antarctica.’ Cam muttered. ‘It couldn’t have been the tropics or some Caribbean beach somewhere.’

‘I like Antarctica.’ John remonstrated.

‘Deadly.’ Cam retorted without thinking. He realised a heartbeat later how much he’d given away with his single word.

John let it go though. He’d probably guessed that Cam was referring to the crash, Cam realised. John was good that way; he wouldn’t ask for details.

‘It was…’ Cam began before he stopped and tried again. ‘The nightmare before; it was the crash. Just…the cold and the pain, you know.’ He shook his head, trying to get the images out of his head. ‘It was incredible that day. You know how it is in a squadron; most of the time you’re waiting for something to happen and we’d practiced and had games and manoeuvres but it was the real thing. An actual battle against aliens.’ He sighed. ‘And all we knew is that we had to protect SG1; make sure they made it because they were going to save the world.’

‘It must have been intense.’ John commented quietly. ‘We saw the light show from McMurdo but…’

‘Not the same.’ Cam completed. ‘That didn’t start until later. It was just the gliders at first and us rushing to meet them. It was a hell of a dog fight. Most of my squad didn’t make it.’

John didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. Cam figured he was thinking back to the Wraith attack. John had been one of the few survivors of that 302 run. It hurt to lose good men; pilots.

‘We were doing OK but we got hit and we already had damage. Banks stopped talking to me and we were going down.’ Cam’s voice rose with remembered panic. ‘Everything was white; everything. Ice and snow and I could see we were going to crash land in the middle of nowhere with no help and…’

John placed a hand on Cam’s forearm. ‘You got the 302 down.’

‘I wrecked her.’ Cam corrected. ‘The top cover was shattered by a tree or something. I got hit in the face. The front of the cockpit trapped my legs. I was jarred enough that I cracked my spine.’ He wet his lips. ‘And Banks was already dead. I didn’t know it at the time.’

‘You made it though.’ John said. He hesitated briefly before continuing. ‘They said you got the lights switched on.’

‘I was out of it when they pulled me out.’ Cam replied with a shrug, wincing when it set off another wave of pain. ‘I was out of it for weeks afterwards.’ He shifted to look at John. ‘Sam saved my legs. She healed me with the Goa’uld device. If she hadn’t I would have lost them. There was too much damage. As it is, I have glue and sticking tape everywhere holding them altogether. Same with my spine.’

‘Somehow, I don’t think losing your legs would have crippled you though.’ John commented. ‘Your Dad’s incredible.’

Cam smiled; glad John had gotten to know him well enough that he knew what had kept Cam going without him having to say anything. ‘I thought about my Dad all the time. Every day when I got up to learn to walk again. I kept thinking if he could do it, I could do it and…and I had O’Neill’s promise.’

‘Of SG1?’ John moved to tug the blanket more securely around them.

‘He promised me SG1 but he didn’t promise the people in SG1 as part of the deal.’ Cam said ruefully. ‘I blame the drugs for not picking up on it.’

‘He does have his own unique way of doing things.’ John said with a laugh.

‘I don’t know how he led SG1 for so long.’ Cam said with a sigh. ‘How he kept himself mission fit for all those years. I mean, I’m not old but he was in the field when he was older than me and I…I’m…’ he couldn’t say it.

‘You’re struggling.’

The statement stilled Cam; relief flooded him that someone knew; had noticed.

‘Yeah,’ he sighed, letting the truth out into the open air for the first time since the doctors had warned him. He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Is it that obvious?’

John patted his arm soothingly. ‘We’ve been living in each other’s pockets for over a week, Mitchell, and…’ he lifted his hand and gestured at him vaguely, ‘I guessed.’

Cam remembered his almost collapse at his parents’ farm when his leg had cramped on him severely and nodded his acceptance of John’s explanation slowly. ‘I’m mission fit.’ He said defensively anyway. ‘It’s…mainly I take longer to recover these days afterwards.’

‘You don’t owe me an explanation.’ John said quickly.

And he didn’t. If anyone was owed an explanation it was his team because the majority of the time it was Cam’s recovery time keeping them grounded to the SGC instead of off-world somewhere. But he hadn’t because if he talked to them then he would have to admit that he was struggling to keep up, struggling to remain a part of the team and why and…

God.

He was stupid. Cam closed his eyes and sighed heavily. This, he deduced with a heavy sense of guilt; this was why he hadn’t wanted to talk to his team for months. Amy had been an excuse to hide from the truth that any discussion about his future would involve a discussion about this.

‘What?’ John asked, shifting against him. His hand landed back on Cam’s forearm; anchoring and steadying him.

‘I haven’t talked about it with anyone except the docs and a little with Amy back when we started dating.’ Cam confessed, needing to tell someone and knowing, trusting, that John would keep his confidence. ‘After we came back from the Ori galaxy, Carolyn sat me down with a specialist and explained that while all the surgery they’d done after the crash had put me back together again, all my exploits since, but especially getting beaten up by a replicator version of the Terminator, meant that everything was coming undone.’

‘Amy mentioned surgery when she was talking to you at the coffee shop.’ John murmured; a hint of a question in his words.

‘They wanted to do it back then.’ Cam explained. ‘Only I said no. I took a month off and…’ he gestured feebly at his body. ‘I considered it but…’ he looked up at the ceiling, ‘it took me months to recover the first time and I knew if I said yes it was goodbye field work. Even if I had the surgery and could get myself mission fit again, they’d break the band up in the meantime and SG1 would be someone else’s and…’ he stumbled to a halt feeling too raw and exposed.

Because losing SG1 was the same as grounding him; clipping his wings.

John’s hand tightened on his arm. ‘I get it.’

‘I can remember talking with Amy about it.’ Cam admitted. ‘You know just saying scenarios out loud trying to make it OK if Carolyn insisted on the surgery when I went back after the medical leave. I guess somewhere in my head I linked marriage with having the surgery and…’

And that was why he hadn’t wanted to truly marry Amy apart from the underlying truth that he hadn’t been with her for the right reason.

‘And now?’

‘Carolyn wants me to have the surgery. She brought it up at my last physical.’ Cam said dully.

‘Ah.’ John frowned. ‘And what happens if you don’t have the surgery?’

‘Another year if I’m lucky.’ Cam admitted. But at the end of it he would have damaged his body permanently; Carolyn had told him that too.

He was glad of the darkness. He didn’t want to see John’s pity. Instead, he felt John squeeze his arm again and let go.

‘Why not have the surgery now?’ John questioned. ‘Landry likes you; he could assign someone TDA to lead SG1. You recovered from it once before; you could do it again.’

Cam’s throat closed up. He couldn’t explain the terror he felt at the idea of going through the surgery all over again. He’d survived it once but…

‘And you’re not alone this time,’ John continued, ‘you’d have your team. They’d help you.’

‘Like you’re trusting your team to help you with your problems.’

The words tumbled out sharply and Cam winced as he felt John tense beside him. Cam wiped a hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to say that or confront John in any way. John hadn’t confided in him and he had no right to stick his nose in John’s business.

‘Sorry.’ Cam said.

There was a long silence.

‘You’re right.’ John admitted tersely. ‘I haven’t confided in my team any more than you’ve confided in yours.’

‘Why not?’ asked Cam, because he’d seen John with his team and there was no doubt in Cam’s mind that they would be there for John if only John would let them in.

‘Because I don’t.’ John admitted softly. He sighed and leaned closer to Cam. ‘That first year, there was no one to talk to when I might have even wanted to talk. Everyone needed me to look like I knew what I was doing. I couldn’t say anything. And then…it became usual for me not to say anything.’ he shrugged. ‘After a while I realised I didn’t need to; that my team would know without me saying anything, you know?’

‘I know.’

‘But…they have their own lives these days and,’ John rubbed the back of his neck, ‘so I haven’t said anything and they haven’t…so…’ he sighed again, ‘it’s easier not to. I don’t want to…just because I’m…feeling like crap, I don’t want them not to be happy.’

Cam sympathised with him. He nudged John’s shoulder in silent support.

‘You think it’s because we’re the leaders?’ Cam wondered out loud. ‘Do you think that’s why we haven’t talked with them?’

‘I think Teyla would probably tell us that we haven’t talked to them because we’re useless at talking.’ John said dryly.

Cam laughed at that. ‘She’d probably be right.’

‘She’s rarely wrong.’ John said fondly. ‘It’s very annoying.’

‘Teal’c’s like that.’ Cam sighed. ‘I’m going to have to tell them, aren’t I?’

‘For what it’s worth, you know what I’ve noticed about SG1?’

‘What?’ Cam asked, genuinely interested.

John met his eyes, and Cam could sense the amusement lurking there. ‘Nobody ever really leaves.’

Cam laughed but shook his head.

‘No, really.’ John patted his arm again. ‘Look at Sam and O’Neill, they’re still SG1. They may not wear the badge anymore or go out with you on missions as SG1 but they are SG1.’

Cam swallowed around a lump in his throat, a jealousy he had never wanted to admit to gnawing at his gut. Because that was part of the problem, he mused inwardly. There was always the lurking suspicion in his head that Teal’c and Daniel preferred the original formation of the team to the one they had now. Which was unfair on them, Cam thought wearily, because he knew that Daniel and Teal’c were both fully committed to SG1; to Vala; to Cam. But if there was a choice…if they had to choose…Cam shivered.

‘Your team has six people in it,’ John continued, apparently oblivious to Cam’s inner thoughts, ‘and even if the worst happens and you have to take a different assignment, it’s not going to stop you being SG1 to them.’

There was something so concrete in what John said that it resonated with Cam sharply. Jonas Quinn; the name sprang to his mind without prompting. Quinn who’d spent a year with SG1 when Daniel had Ascended. They’d lost him for a while under the Ori rule of Langara but when he’d made contact again…if Quinn was Earthside for a diplomatic event, he came out with the team; he stayed with Daniel and the last time he’d stayed with Cam because Cassie Fraiser had been staying with Daniel. It was evident that Quinn was considered part of the team. Something eased in Cam; the jealousy loosened its hold and slipped away.

‘Damn.’ Cam murmured.

‘What?’

‘There’re seven of us on SG1.’ He gestured when he saw John’s incomprehension. ‘Jonas Quinn. He was with them the sixth year when Daniel went off to be Ascended. I just realised…’

‘He’s part of your team.’ John’s voice rang with amusement.

‘What about you?’ Cam shot back. ‘You going to talk to your team?’

‘Already have a drinks thing lined up with Rodney to talk about my Dad.’ John said smugly. His smile faded and his face settled into contemplation. ‘And Dave and I, uh, we’ve talked some…about our Mom.’

‘That’s good.’ Cam said surprised.

‘Yeah.’ John shook his head. ‘All this time we never said anything to each other and now…’ he sighed. ‘We’re never going to be an advertisement for a well-adjusted family but we’re better than we were.’ He looked over at Cam. ‘Your Dad – hell, your whole family is great.’

‘I’m lucky.’ Cam agreed. He’d already realised that in his own comparison between Patrick Sheppard and Frank Mitchell.

The sound of the lock turning had John on his feet immediately. He helped Cam up and Cam handed him the blanket.

‘You sure you can take them?’ John asked quietly.

Cam took a deep breath and nodded. It would be close but he had a plan of attack. The lights went on and they blinked it out of their eyes as the guard stepped in.

He snarled at Cam and lifted the zat gun. ‘Your time’s up, Mitchell. Allia’s ready for you.’

Mitchell smiled at him. He nodded at John who waved for him to get going already.

A bolt of blue suddenly shot through the open doorway and slapped into the guard, sending his body jerking to the floor.

Cam and John both turned in shock.

Lovell stood there with a tight smile on her face, her eyes on John. ‘Sanctuary?’

‘Sanctuary.’ John promised.

Cam saw only sincerity written across John’s face; he was sure Lovell could see it too.

Lovell nodded. ‘Then, come with me.’

It wasn’t like they were going to argue, Cam thought as he watched John stoop to pick up the zat and keys; Cam followed him and Lovell out of the cell.

Chapter 25

John’s heart beat wildly but he tried to keep up a calm front as he locked the door and turned to Lovell. He was amazed that she had actually agreed to help them but he had promised her sanctuary and he would do his best to keep his promise.

‘We need clothes.’ He said promptly.

Cam nodded furiously. ‘Clothes.’ He said in fervent agreement. He stared wide-eyed at Lovell as though he couldn’t believe that she had come through for them either.

Lovell nodded although her eyes travelled over both of them with a hint of a smirk. John ignored the urge to cover himself like a blushing Victorian maiden and brazened it out.

‘This way.’ Lovell turned and began making her way down the narrow corridor. Mitchell fell into step behind her and John followed, awkwardly holding the zat. He’d had training on how to use them but they weren’t standard issue for the Atlantis expedition. He had no idea why Sumner had decided against them originally but he’d kept to the decision when it had been his decision to make primarily because they had their own stun weapons liberated from the Wraith and it seemed to make sense to keep Pegasus weapons in Pegasus.

John shook his thoughts away and kept his focus on Lovell. They’d traversed quite a distance and hadn’t come across another guard but John figured it was only a matter of time. The ship was huge, probably an old cargo ship of some sort that had been modified, he mused, but it was big enough to hold a number of Alliance guards.

Mitchell’s eyes drifted back to him in a silent check and John gave a nod to confirm that everything was fine. Mitchell was limping badly. John thought of Mitchell’s confession about the surgery. He had sensed it was a difficult topic for Mitchell to talk about and he didn’t blame him for keeping it quiet.

The Air Force was a competitive game. As much as team-work was encouraged, pilots in particular knew they were in competition with each other for spaces on squads, for the best aircraft, for flight time. They had to be fit and ready; flying a fighter aircraft – especially one without alien technology smoothing the way, never mind one with – took an incredible amount of skill and stamina. There had to be no question over fitness.

That Mitchell had made it back from the injuries he’d sustained once had been a miracle and he sensed that Mitchell feared he couldn’t do it twice. But Mitchell had an inner core of steel and John was certain his friend could do it.

They’d all help him through it, John determined. It wasn’t as though Mitchell was without support. His team would be there for him; his family – Frank and Wendy who were fantastic and supportive; and John. He considered Mitchell a friend now, he realised thinking back to his own wonderings about why he’d been at the bucks’ night before the vacation. If Mitchell went through the surgery, John would find some way to help him even if he was back in Pegasus.

Lovell went up a ladder; Mitchell following her grimacing all the way. John sighed and followed. He’d done one stint on an aircraft carrier during his Special Ops days and he hadn’t enjoyed it. The ship had felt too enclosing and he’d been glad when their next assignment had come through and they’d headed for land again.

There was another narrow corridor waiting for him after he’d traversed the ladder.

Lovell glanced back. ‘It’s not far now.’

John and Mitchell both nodded to her, and they continued to walk in silence. John felt the sting of cold every time he placed his feet and was hard pressed not to flinch. He was cold, very cold. He couldn’t wait to get clothes and shoes; to wrap himself up warmly again. He hadn’t lied to Mitchell, he did consider Antarctica beautiful but then it had been a refuge for him rather than a punishment in the end.

When he’d first arrived at McMurdo he’d been resentful and angry; at the Air Force for the black mark and what he’d thought was the death knell on his career; at his father for the words they’d exchanged in anger; at Dave for supporting his father; at the few friends that he’d had melting away to avoid being caught up in John’s downfall.

But there had been something peaceful about the ice and snow when he’d patrolled. The other guys in the squad had kept their distance although one or two had reached out. John had gone along a couple of times for beers and to watch games but mostly he’d stayed alone and it had given him time to think, to grieve for what he’d lost. He’d needed Antarctica.

And he knew deep down that he needed something similar again. It had been five years of carrying a heavy responsibility that weighed on his shoulders; five years of losses; five years of constant battling against enemies and fighting to save friends; and it had been four years of silence from his family before his Dad had died and he and Dave had reconnected. He was exhausted.

Focus, John, he berated himself. He could indulge in his very own pity party when they were safe and not before.

Mitchell had surprised John in facing him with his knowledge that John wasn’t leaning on his team. John flushed just thinking about it. All his reasons for not confiding his grief and his pain in his friends were valid; he believed that. His friends were finding their own happiness; they didn’t need him bringing them down and making them miserable. But deep down he knew that they would want to be there for him; would be there for him.

Finally – finally – they came to a door and Lovell gestured at John to pass her the set of keys he had filched from the guard. John tossed them to her wordlessly. He didn’t trust her, not completely, but he figured he had to in the short term. Hell, he’d trusted a Wraith; trusting an Alliance operative wasn’t any different.

The door led to a locker room and Lovell ushered them inside swiftly.

‘We should be safe in here for a short time.’ Lovell said before walking over to one locker and opening it. She waved at them to have at it before she opened another locker and moved away to sit on the central bench.

John looked at the first locker contents with interest. There were two flight suits; green without identifying patches. He handed one to Mitchell and grabbed the second for himself. He briefly mourned the loss of his own clothing but he dressed quickly, unwilling to have the zat – the only weapon they had – out of his hands for any length of time.

The second locker held their boots. John shoved his numb feet into the comfy warmth and quickly laced them part of the way up. He sat up as he finished and waited for Mitchell. His friend was moving slowly but efficiently.

Lovell got up and retrieved three coats from a rack at the back of the room. She handed them out and John slipped his arms into one with gratitude. His body was still cold under the layers of clothing but it would warm up.

Lovell took a step toward the door and John held up a hand.

‘We need to talk about the plan before we go much further.’

‘You have a plan?’ Lovell asked sceptically.

‘Of course there’s a plan.’ John retorted.

Lovell raised an elegant eyebrow. ‘You forget that I’ve read the intelligence reports, Colonel.’

John opened his mouth and shut it again. He threw a look at a smirking Mitchell. ‘You can’t talk either.’

Mitchell raised a hand in supplication. ‘We need a new plan anyway.’ He sobered quickly. ‘Our priority has to be getting Amy next.’

‘Your girlfriend?’ Lovell shook her head. ‘They’ve implanted her with a Goa’uld. She’s lost to you.’

John winced at Lovell’s bluntness.

‘I know she’s been implanted with a Goa’uld.’ Mitchell responded tersely. ‘I saw the scarline.’ His blue eyes glittered. ‘I’m not leaving her behind.’

‘We,’ John corrected, ‘we are not leaving her behind.’

‘You can’t save her.’ Lovell argued.

‘The Tok’ra can extract the Goa’uld.’ Mitchell shot back. ‘Amy will survive this.’

Lovell looked as though she wanted to argue more.

John jumped in before she could say anything. ‘Can you get us to where they’re keeping her?’

Lovell pulled a face, her pretty features twisting, but she sighed and gave a nod. ‘I can. She is on the other side of the ship though and we will need to walk a short distance across the deck.’ Her gaze met his challengingly. ‘It will be dangerous.’

John nodded his understanding. ‘OK, we’ll,’ he lifted the zat, ‘stun her as soon as we can get the door open.’

Mitchell waved at Lovell. ‘Do you have another weapon?’

Lovell stared at him; her view of him was clear – she didn’t trust him. But she silently moved to a chest, unlocked it and handed him another zat.

‘Once we have Amy we’ll need to get to a helicopter.’ Mitchell said, his fingers closing around the weapon tightly.

‘What about the cloaking device?’ John asked Lovell. ‘Where is it?’

‘The main control system is on the bridge.’ Lovell said. ‘The helicopter is armed with missiles; you should be able to destroy it.’ She paused. ‘You will need to destroy it. The helicopter cannot pass beyond the cloak.’

‘Great.’ John tried to keep the discomfort off his face. It would be tight blowing up the cloak and keeping the helicopter from getting caught in the blast. He could do it though; he’d had tighter assignments.

‘If we bring the cloak down, it’s possible that the Odyssey will beam us out.’ Mitchell added encouragingly. ‘The spy who beamed us here is on board this ship, right? He’s not still on the Odyssey.’

Lovell’s lips curled into an ugly spy. ‘Allia killed him but not before he confirmed that he had destroyed the technology. We will not be beamed out.’

John exchanged a wry look with Mitchell; both of them knew their teams would be working on the problem – Rodney was in likelihood up on the Odyssey fixing it, John mused.

‘I think you’ll be surprised.’ John said mildly.

‘What about our earpieces?’ Mitchell asked suddenly. ‘Do you have those?’ He looked at John. ‘If we get the cloak down we can communicate with the Odyssey; request 302 support.’

‘Good point.’ John agreed, turning back to Lovell expectantly.

She grimaced again but unlocked another chest and rooted around in it. She pulled out the earpieces. She passed them onto John who handed one to Mitchell and looped the other one over his ear. Lovell hesitated for a long moment and then pulled out a tangle of chains. She silently placed the bundle into John’s open palm.

He disentangled his own dog tags, handed Mitchell’s to him, and slipped the chain back over his neck, placing the tags under his clothing next to his skin.

The sense of comfort the familiar weight engendered wasn’t new to John. His dog tags meant something to him; the identity he had chosen rather than one gifted to him by birth and the virtue (or curse) of being Patrick Sheppard’s son.

Mitchell patted his shoulder. ‘You ready to do this?’

John gave a brief nod. ‘You?’

‘As much as I’ve enjoyed our stay, I’m ready to leave.’ Mitchell quipped.

Lovell’s eyes rolled at the joke. ‘This way.’ She paused at the door, peeking out to check that nobody was around before she led them out.

John kept track of the route but hurried along. Mitchell was back in the middle again, limping badly but keeping pace with Lovell who wasn’t slowing down or making any allowances for him.

The step out into the open air of the deck was a wake-up call; icy air slapping into him hard. He sucked in a breath and winced at the sharpness of air in his lungs. The ice in the distance was a welcome sight though. Antarctica; it had been good for him once, hopefully it would be again.

He breathed out. They could do this.

They kept low and to the sides of walls as they traversed the deck. Mitchell pointed out the helicopters and John’s heart sank at the distance they would need to travel back with Amy. It was going to be slow and he couldn’t believe Allia wouldn’t notice that the guard hadn’t turned up with Mitchell before then.

He sighed. There was nothing to do but carry on with the plan. They slipped into another side door and Lovell led the way back through more corridors before they came to a door.

‘This is the surveillance room.’ Mitchell whispered, catching Lovell’s arm before she could open the door.

Lovell glared at him. ‘We need to take out the guard before we go in for her or would you rather he set off the alarms when we grab her?’

Mitchell looked chagrined. ‘Right. Sorry.’ He let her go and waved towards the door. ‘After you.’

Lovell shot John a look and he offered a half-smile in apology. She set her shoulders, armed the zat and opened the door. She immediately fired off the zat as soon as the door swung open and John heard the thump of a body crashing to the ground. He winced in sympathy. He followed Lovell into the room, silently signalling for Mitchell to stand guard, and glanced at the surveillance monitor.

Amy sat on the bed reading a magazine. There was a mug in her hand and she looked to all extents and purposes like a bored housewife.

‘The keys will be on the guard.’ Lovell instructed.

John grimaced but obligingly patted down the felled man. He plucked the keys from the pocket of the jacket and held them up. ‘Let’s go.’

Lovell paused, turned back and fired off two more zat rounds. The guard disappeared.

‘What did you do that for?’ John said. He was shocked at the ruthlessness of her action especially since she’d only just changed sides.

‘We can’t afford him coming to and raising the alarm.’ Lovell said brusquely.

He held back the sharp words that hovered on his tongue. Lovell’s world was not his world, John reminded himself silently. The only important thing was that they got the hell off the ship and if that meant Lovell erasing every single Alliance member on board, well, maybe John could live with that even if he wouldn’t make the same choice. He followed Lovell out. Mitchell’s look spoke volumes but John gestured for him to let it go.

The door to Amy’s room wasn’t far.

John turned to Lovell. ‘I’ll unlock it. You go in and do your thing.’ He whispered.

‘I’ll go in.’ Mitchell whispered back.

‘No.’ John shook his head. ‘You might hesitate to fire. Hell, I might hesitate to fire and we both know how strong someone with a Goa’uld is. We can’t take that chance. She fires.’ He held Mitchell’s gaze determinedly.

He could understand Mitchell’s distrust of Lovell especially with what had just happened but John knew he was right.

Mitchell gave a nod of agreement and limped across the corridor to take up a watch and guard position.

John breathed a silent sigh of relief and glanced at Lovell to check she was ready. She nodded. John slid the key in the lock and turned it. He held up three fingers and counted them off silently, opening the door fluidly on the number three.

Lovell immediately stepped inside and fired the weapon. There was no thump but John figured the bed had caught Amy and when he got inside he found he was right; Amy was slumped over onto her side. The tea had spilled everywhere and her blouse was wet through.

‘Do we have a coat for her?’ John kicked himself for not remembering when they’d been in the locker room.

Lovell moved to open a closet and took out a coat. She helped John manoeuvre Amy into it. John tucked the zat into the deep pockets of his own coat and hoisted Amy over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

‘OK.’ He said.

They moved back out of the room and into the corridor. Mitchell’s face brightened with relief as he saw Amy draped over John’s shoulder.

‘Let’s go.’ John ordered. They needed to get to the helicopter ASAP. He had the sense that time was running out for them; if he were Allia, he would already have sent someone to check on why Mitchell hadn’t turned up for her little get together.

They made their way down the corridor and surprised a guard coming round a corner. Lovell didn’t hesitate again. She zatted them before the guy could draw his own weapon. She fired again and again.

Mitchell paled; his lips tightened but he didn’t say anything. John kept his own counsel. They trudged onward. Amy wasn’t heavy but she wasn’t a lightweight. John regretted not spending more time in the gym.

They had just stepped out onto the deck when the alarm sounded through the ship; a loud klaxon that made John want to duck and cover his ears.

‘Crap.’ Mitchell said as they hurried to cover behind a wall. John gently placed Amy down and Mitchell tugged her lax body close to him, protecting her.

Lovell crouched beside them. ‘What now?’

John looked out at the guards running across the deck; there weren’t as many as he feared but they were all taking up positions that cut them off from the helicopters. His eyes landed on the nearby 302.

‘Plan C.’ He suggested, moving back. He nudged Mitchell. ‘You take the 302.’

Mitchell’s eyes widened. ‘But…’

‘There is only room for two in the 302.’ Lovell pointed out. ‘Am I the passenger?’

‘No,’ John placed his hand on her arm to stop her talking, ‘Mitchell will take Amy in the 302. He can disrupt the cloak. Worst case scenario is that they believe it’s me and Mitchell in the 302 and we’ll be able to sneak around and leave in the helicopter. Best case scenario is that as soon as the cloak comes down we all get beamed back to the Odyssey.’

‘Good plan.’ Mitchell agreed. ‘But I don’t like leaving you on board.’ His eyes flickered to Lovell.

‘We’ll be fine.’ John said.

Lovell’s look gave away that she hadn’t missed any of the subtext of their exchange. ‘What happens if this plan goes wrong?’

John shrugged. ‘We move onto plan D.’ He smirked at her. ‘As long as we don’t get to plan F we’re fine.’

Mitchell snorted.

‘If we’re going to do this, we should do it now.’ Lovell said with a weary expression that said she had no idea what they had found amusing and she wasn’t going to ask.

John took a breath and nodded seriously. He pointed at Lovell. ‘Cover us.’ He stooped and picked up Amy. ‘After you, Mitchell.’

They eased their way onto the deck. Mitchell took out one guard near to the 302 and a bolt of blue lightening hit another on the other side. John shot Lovell an acknowledging look of gratitude as they hurried towards the aircraft.

Mitchell did a cursory check of the outside while John climbed the ladder and placed Amy into the back seat. He tucked in her limbs as gently as he could; put a helmet on her and strapped her in. He disabled the back controls so if the Goa’uld woke up she wouldn’t be able to control the ship. He got back onto the ground as Mitchell finished.

‘Good luck.’ John held out his hand.

Mitchell pulled him into a quick hug instead. ‘Take care.’ He said as he stepped back. He hauled himself up the ladder and into the 302. John pushed the ladder aside and from the corner of his eyes, he saw another guard who had been sneaking behind him hit the deck.

Good. Lovell was keeping her side of the bargain. He skipped back and rejoined her as Mitchell fired up the 302 engines and taxied around to the small runway the deck provided. The spy who’d died bringing the 302 down had to have been a hell of a pilot, John mused.

Lovell poked him. ‘Now what?’

‘We need to be well away from the bridge.’ John stated. ‘Come on. Let’s get to the helicopter.’ He inched around the wall.

As much as John didn’t want to acknowledge it openly, they moved faster without Mitchell limping alongside them and without John having to carry Amy. The 302 taking off had led most of the guards to the other end, shooting helplessly up at the aircraft as it hovered over the ship; the one or two that were left had been easily dispatched by Lovell and John. The helicopters were in front of them.

‘Sheppard, Mitchell. Can you read me?’

John tapped his earpiece. ‘I read you.’

‘Are you clear of the bridge area?’ Mitchell asked briskly.

‘Clear.’

‘Fire in the hole.’ Mitchell quipped.

The sound of the missile zipping through the air had John pushing Lovell behind a wall and covering her body with his own.

The explosion was deafening. John felt the heat of it against his cheek; along his back through the material of the coat. Debris rained down behind them, hitting the deck with full force. John watched the helicopters carefully. One of them took some shrapnel along the tail but the other was left undamaged.

‘Odyssey, this is Mitchell.’

John breathed out and turned his head to watch Mitchell turn the 302 back around.

‘Can you read me?’ Mitchell continued.

‘This is Colonel Morrow…’

‘Mitchell!’ Rodney cut through Morrow’s reply. ‘Where’s…’

‘I’m here, Rodney.’ John tapped his earpiece to answer, easing back from Lovell and helping her into a crouching position. ‘We need a beam out.’

‘Uh, we’re not quite there in fixing the beaming technology.’ Rodney said quickly. ‘Do you have another option?’

‘Mitchell’s in a 302 with Amy.’ John replied. ‘I have other transportation.’

‘I’ll cover you.’ Mitchell said, interrupting them.

‘You need to get back to the ship before the Goa’uld in your back seat wakes up.’ John shot back. ‘Go. We’ll be fine.’

‘John…’

‘Not arguing about it, Mitchell. Go.’ John signalled to Lovell, did a quick check of the area and they both ran for the undamaged helicopter.

John could hear his breathing, harsh and loud; he could feel every sharp breath in the pull of his muscles; the deck jarred his legs with every step. The patter of gunfire in front of them had them lurching to the side. John tapped his earpiece again as he dived to the floor as another stream of shots hit too close.

‘Rodney! I need that beaming technology now!’

‘I can’t perform miracles!’ Rodney replied.

Lovell grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He turned for the damaged chopper. It would be fine; he’d flown with worse damage. He yanked the door open.

A shot rang out and slapped into his shoulder.

He jerked violently.

‘No!’ Lovell’s body covered his and she returned fire. Her body shuddered as it took shot after shot and she slumped to the ground. The gunman was dead; hit by Lovell’s zat fire. John stooped to help Lovell, ignoring the pain that shot through him.

‘Go!’ Lovell said weakly. ‘Go. Tell Stanley…’ her voice trailed off and the light went out of her eyes.

He felt for a pulse. There was none. He closed his eyes briefly against the guilt that flooded through him. He’d promised her sanctuary and he’d failed to keep his promise. He stepped back and threw himself into the helicopter, snapping the door shut behind him.

The rotors started up; the engine engaged. He shuck off the coat, strapped in and slipped on the headset, removing the earpiece. He reached for the cyclic and the stick. His shoulder protested the movement and he glanced down to see the widening spread of blood on the flight suit under his coat.

John gritted his teeth and took to the air. He could see the 302 finally whirling around and shooting upwards towards the Odyssey; towards safety. Mitchell was safe; Amy was safe. John only had to stay airborne long enough to survive; for Rodney to beam him home…

Chapter 26

Cam cursed under his breath as John ordered him gone but he waited anyway until he could see the helicopter taking off. He knew the other man had a point; it wasn’t Amy in the back seat, it was a Goa’uld who wouldn’t stay stunned for long. If they woke up, they could easily kill Cam even if the back controls were disabled. He swung the 302 around and made for the atmosphere.

‘Odyssey, Mitchell. My ETA is five minutes.’

‘Mitchell, Morrow. The bay doors will be open for you.’ Morrow sounded grudging as though allowing Cam on board was a privilege he was unwilling to grant. The man was an idiot, Cam thought tiredly. Maybe he’d been good out in Iraq but Morrow lacked the flexibility and adaptability required for the Stargate programme. But on the Odyssey Morrow had seniority, Cam reminded himself. He couldn’t allow Morrow to get to him; there was still John to recover.

He cleared Earth’s atmosphere and made for the Odyssey. He wished he had time to enjoy the flight but he was only too aware that he needed Amy secured.

‘Crap.’ John’s voice sounded over the headset.

‘What?’ Rodney asked the question before Cam could.

‘They’ve sent the other helicopter after me.’ John said shortly.

‘I’m coming back.’ Cam said immediately.

‘I can take of it.’ John said confidently. And he could, Cam told himself. John was an excellent pilot; good instincts. He’d be OK.

He had to be OK.

‘We can target it.’ Rodney said abruptly. ‘With a drone and…’

‘We do not have authorisation.’ Morrow stated over him.

‘You…’ Rodney’s protest was cut off by John.

‘It’s OK, Rodney. I’ve got this.’ John sounded curt but Cam figured he was busy flying, weaving across the ocean and the ice to get away from the pursuing helicopter.

Cam spied the open bay door of the Odyssey and made for it with alacrity. He had to get up onto the Odyssey bridge. Maybe he could convince Morrow in person to assist John more directly. He slowed the 302 as it entered the bay, manoeuvred it slowly down and brought it to a halt. He took off his headset, rooted around in his pocket and put his earpiece back in, changing the channel again to pick up on the communications.

‘Sheppard, you still there?’ Cam asked, unfastening the straps and opening the cover. He could see Teal’c running toward him; Daniel and Vala on his heels. A crowd of engineers and 302 pilots were beginning to fill the bay.

‘I’m a little busy right now, Mitchell.’ John replied tersely.

‘Right. I’m on the Odyssey.’ Cam informed him. He waited for the ladder and stepped out before reaching into the back seat to lift Amy free.

Teal’c was suddenly beside him helping and Cam let him take over. He was tired; his entire body ached and his knees were on fire. Daniel reached out to steady him as Cam stumbled down the stairs.

‘Amy needs to be secured. She’s a Goa’uld.’ Cam told the approaching SFs as he reached safe ground.

Teal’c nodded and handed Amy over to the medical team.

The doctor nodded. ‘I’ll take her to the infirmary and arrange for her to be placed in restraints.’

‘Thanks.’

He’d look in on her later; apologise. Wait with her for the Tok’ra to free her. It was the least he could do, Cam thought wearily. But first…the bridge and John.

‘It is good to have you back, Colonel Mitchell.’ Teal’c said, his eyes warming with affection as Vala hugged Cam hard.

‘Ow.’ Cam said immediately, hugging her back. ‘I’m a little beaten up.’

Daniel pulled Vala away and gave Mitchell a gentler hug. ‘It’s good to see you in one piece.’

Cam patted one of Teal’c’s large biceps. ‘It’s good to be back. But…’

‘Let’s get back to the bridge,’ agreed Daniel.

Cam set his teeth and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The others slowed to accommodate his slow pace.

Teal’c frowned heavily. ‘Perhaps we should take you to the infirmary.’

‘No,’ Cam argued, ‘not while John’s out there.’ He tapped his earpiece again. ‘Sheppard.’

‘Still here. The other helicopter decided to go for a swim.’ There was a breathless quality to John’s voice; one that told Cam John was in pain.

‘What’s your situation?’ Cam asked.

There was a pause and Cam knew – he knew – that something was wrong and John was considering how to tell them.

‘My chopper’s damaged. The tail is unbalanced; I took some fire in the exchange with the other chopper and I’m leaking fuel. I’m over land but this part of the ice isn’t safe to put down on; I could easily end up falling through into a crevasse.’ John reported briskly. ‘I could really do with that beam out.’

‘We’re working on it.’ Rodney said.

There was a strange double feed as Cam walked onto the bridge and heard Rodney speak both through the ear piece and in person. Rodney was working furiously on the console at the side of the bridge; Teyla and Ronon hovered beside him anxiously. Cam tapped the earpiece channel closed, realising John was being piped through the main audio system on the bridge. He nodded an acknowledgement to Morrow sat in the command chair. Morrow looked back at him sourly.

‘Work faster.’ John said and gave a gasp.

‘Sheppard?’ Cam asked worriedly.

Another long silence.

‘I may have gotten shot on the way out.’ John finally admitted.

Rodney stilled for a moment before he started working again. He darted a look toward Cam. Teyla moved forward but Rodney shrugged her off, unwilling to be comforted or soothed.

Cam’s jaw clenched uneasily. ‘How bad?’

‘Shoulder.’ John said. ‘It’s…I might have lost some blood.’

Cam leaned against the pilot’s chair, knowing Marks wouldn’t mind. ‘Just keep her in the air, John.’ He signalled to the technician to cut audio their side. ‘McKay, how long?’

Rodney looked up at him frantically. ‘I…too long. There’s too much to do and…’ he looked defeated but he continued working anyway. ‘Another twenty minutes? Maybe half an hour?’

‘We don’t have that.’ Cam said tightly. ‘He doesn’t have that.’

‘Don’t you think I don’t know that?’ Rodney yelled back. He was panicked; red faced, his short thinning hair wild about head, and still he continued to work on fixing the beaming technology.

Teyla’s eyes met Cam’s across the bridge; hers accusing. ‘Rodney is doing his best.’

Ronon nodded.

Cam grimaced as his knees protested at him standing; he thought desperately trying to find another solution. It came to him in a flash of memory; Sam in a space suit and the Odyssey going to get her. ‘We can take the Odyssey down and pick him up.’

‘Yes!’ Rodney said delighted, snapping his fingers loudly. ‘We…’

‘No.’ Morrow stood up. ‘It’s out of the question, Colonel Mitchell.’

Cam stared at him in shock. ‘What do you mean it’s out of the question?’

Daniel’s hand rested on his shoulder; it was a warning to be careful coupled with a nudge of support.

‘I mean that it’s against my standing orders. The Odyssey is in patrol of Earth’s atmosphere; we are not cleared to go into Earth’s atmosphere especially when we’re not cloaked and could reveal ourselves to the public.’

‘It’s Antarctica?’ Rodney argued. ‘Who’s going to notice? The penguins?’

‘I do not have orders to assist in this rescue.’ Morrow thundered out.

‘Then let’s call Sam and get her to clear it.’ Cam said angrily.

‘Uh, not to bother you guys or anything but what’s happening up there?’ John’s voice stopped Morrow from immediately answering.

Morrow folded his arms. ‘I take my orders from O’Neill or Vidrine.’

Cam could have hit him. ‘Get O’Neill.’ He ordered the tech at the comms position.

‘Belay that order!’ Morrow blustered. ‘This is my ship and I will not have you coming in and taking over!’

‘One of our people is down there and needs our help!’ Cam snapped back. ‘We are wasting time arguing about this; we need to get him back safely now!’

‘Uh, guys? Rodney? Mitchell? Anyone there?’ John sounded pained.

‘If you can’t accept my authority, you can leave my bridge.’ Morrow said stonily.

Cam glowered at him before shooting a quick look around his team. Teal’c’s nod was imperceptible; Vala smiled back at him; Daniel’s nose wrinkled in agreement. A second later they all moved in perfect synchronicity.

Cam brought out the zat he had placed in the pocket of the oversize coat he still wore; Teal’c’s was out of his holster in an instant as were the zats of Vala and Daniel. Ronon didn’t hesitate to follow their example.

Cam shot Morrow before the other Colonel could do anything more than look horrified at them; he fell back into his seat, unconscious. Ronon and the rest of SG1 turned the weapons on the SFs by the door and covered the Odyssey personnel on the bridge.

‘Do we need to zat anyone else?’ Cam asked mildly. He didn’t think so from the relieved and grateful expressions; most of the personnel were old timers who knew the first law of the programme; don’t leave anyone behind.

There were numerous shakes of heads. Rodney looked at him approvingly.

‘OK, so we’re going to just keep the zats on everybody.’ Daniel said in a conversational tone. ‘That way you can all honestly say you were coerced. Is that OK with everyone?’

‘Uh, guys?’ John interrupted the rush of nods.

Cam gestured at the comms technician who smiled and connected them. ‘Sorry, Sheppard. We had a small glitch.’ He nudged Marks out of his seat and shook his head when Marks made to protest.

Marks sidled out and Cam slipped into the pilot’s chair. ‘We’re coming to get you in the Odyssey. The bay doors will be open for you; you can fly in.’

‘OK.’ John said, relief evident in the single word. ‘Good plan.’

‘We’re still not at plan F, Sheppard.’ Cam joked, trying to lighten the tension as he tapped in the commands to send the Odyssey on a path to intercept John.

‘How are you feeling, John?’ Teyla asked.

‘I’m fine.’ John answered immediately. ‘Just…you know; hurry.’

‘We’re on our way.’ Rodney said. He was continuing to work on the beaming technology, Cam realised. Just in case…

‘Keep talking to me, OK?’ John asked, his voice echoing on the bridge. ‘You guys scared me there for a minute.’

‘Actually, you should keep talking to us.’ Rodney argued. ‘That way we know you haven’t plunged to your death.’

‘Thanks for the visual, Rodney, and what do you want me to talk about?’

That was a leading question, Cam thought with amusement. ‘How about a story?’ He suggested instead.

‘A story?’ John questioned him incredulously. ‘Like for our competition story?’

‘Yeah,’ Cam replied, changing the angle of descent, ‘I told you one about Antarctica so you can tell me one.’

‘That’s…’ John’s voice gave away on a gasp.

‘Sheppard! John!’ Rodney called out to him worriedly.

‘It’s fine. Just…a twinge really.’ John shrugged off their concern. ‘So, my Antarctica story I guess starts with turning up for work and being told I’m transporting important cargo out to the new very secret science base.’ He paused for a moment and they heard the pained breaths he took.

‘Important cargo?’ Daniel stepped in to fill the silence. ‘Wasn’t your cargo Jack?’

‘It was the General.’ John agreed. ‘He said he didn’t like Antarctica.’

‘It’s not his favourite continent.’ Daniel agreed cheerfully.

‘So, we’re flying along to this secret base and out of nowhere this drone appears. Only I don’t know it’s a drone because I’ve never seen one up close before.’

‘Carson.’ Rodney interjected. ‘He couldn’t control it.’

‘And it’s got a lock on us.’ John continued. ‘I’m…’ he stopped and gasped again, ‘I’m trying to fly and General O’Neill is giving me instructions and I’m ignoring them because, well…’

‘That’s you all over.’ Rodney snarked.

‘Do you want to tell the story?’ John shot back.

‘No, no. You tell it.’ Rodney backed off.

Cam hid his smile.

‘Where was I?’ John asked.

‘Dodging the drone.’ Cam supplied helpfully. He checked the sensor readings. John was still too far out. They needed more speed.

‘So, I’m weaving all over the sky and finally we manage to get rid of it to land and it still comes for us! It lands nearby and I’m thinking, what the hell is that?’

John gave a strangled cry. He was obviously trying to hide that he was in severe pain. Cam saw Teyla reach out for Ronon who put his free hand on her shoulder. Teyla clasped the hand tightly.

‘Anyway, the General is grateful so he allows me into the top secret hush-hush base and tells me not to touch anything.’ John continued after a long moment of silence. ‘I’m curious and I meet Carson who apologises for almost shooting me out of the sky.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And he takes me to the chair.’

Cam adjusted his heading. ‘The Ancient chair?’

‘Yeah, and he’s explaining about Ancient tech and how it all links to the gene and I go to sit in the chair and he goes to stop me but I say what’s the likelihood that I have the gene and then I’m in the chair and…God,’ John sighed heavily, ‘it was the most incredible thing.’

Most of the bridge had stopped to listen, Cam realised. They were all waiting for John to continue the story.

‘It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced,’ John continued, ‘your whole body is buzzing with power and there’s this connection in your head and you’re flying without flying but there’s this sense of…peace like…’

‘Sitting on top of a Ferris wheel looking out at the world.’ Rodney suggested quietly.

‘Yeah, exactly like that.’ John’s voice had softened. ‘So, I’m sat in the chair and I’m OK with the chair because she and I are getting along great because it’s like she’s in my head asking me what I want and I’m telling her I have no idea but please don’t blow anything up…and I’m thinking I’m going to be in trouble because O’Neill specifically told me not to touch anything and here I am…majorly touching something.’

A few giggles, chuckles and snorts sounded around the bridge.

Cam could see the ice ahead. They were almost there.

‘And everyone comes running up including this very irate, pissed off looking scientist in a huge orange sweater and he asks me…’ John’s voice cut out again on a pained gasp.

‘I ask you to think about where you are in the solar system and you do and…I was so jealous.’ Rodney supplied. His anxious gaze met Cam’s.

‘This is when you met.’ Teyla realised.

‘Yeah,’ John said with a light laugh, ‘my first meeting with Rodney.’ He stopped again with another choked gasp.

‘Hold on, Sheppard.’ Cam ordered him. ‘We’re almost there.’

‘It’s just…’ John’s voice broke. ‘I’m so goddamned tired, Mitchell.’

Cam’s heart lurched in his chest at the admission because he knew it wasn’t just an admission about that moment; it was an admission about John’s entire state of being.

‘You have to hold on.’ Cam instructed him. ‘I’ve got you in sight. We’ll be in there in a minute.’

‘I’m…Lovell didn’t make it; she took a bullet for me, actually more than one. You have to tell Stanley…’

‘You can tell him yourself.’ Cam said briskly, trying to tamp down on the concern that was bubbling up. John sounded at the very end of his rope; like everything he had to keep himself going was gone.

‘And you need…to tell Dave…’

Rodney’s eyes flew to Cam’s again in alarm.

‘No!’ Cam snapped, punching in the commands to clear the bay and open the doors ready to receive the helicopter they were moving over. ‘You are not giving up, Sheppard. We’re right here. You just have to come inside.’

‘You’re here.’ John sounded disbelieving. ‘You’re not cloaked.’

‘Can’t pick you up if we’re cloaked.’ Cam said mildly.

John’s team were already moving; heading out of the bridge to the 302 bay. Cam held the Odyssey steady and monitored John’s approach.

‘You might want to clear the bay.’ John suggested. ‘This isn’t going to be one of my better landings.’

‘On it.’ Cam looked over to the comms tech who was already relaying the order. He noted the moment when the helicopter cleared the bay doors.

‘I’m down.’ John said.

‘Welcome back.’ Cam replied. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

The comms tech looked back at him. ‘I’ve got a medic team on the way.’

Cam nodded gratefully. Marks tapped his shoulder. ‘I can take over from here, Colonel.’

‘Yes, you can.’ Cam glanced at Morrow’s slumped form. ‘You’re in charge, Marks.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Marks smiled as they exchanged seats. ‘I trust you and the rest of SG1 will find your way to the infirmary? Colonel Morrow is probably going to want you in the brig.’

Cam winced and Marks took pity on him.

‘I’ll call Colonel Carter.’

Cam patted his shoulder. ‘Good man.’ He limped off the bridge, Teal’c falling in beside him, Vala and Daniel behind.

‘How much trouble do you think we’re in?’ Cam asked idly as they made their way back to the 302 bay.

‘Sam will sort it out.’ Daniel said dismissing Cam’s worry with a brisk hand wave.

Teal’c smiled. ‘Indeed.’

OK, Cam thought; that meant they were in serious trouble.

They walked through the doors of the bay and pushed past a number of people stood around hovering. Cam got annoyed quickly and was pleased when Teal’c cleared the way. John was being carried out of the helicopter by Ronon and placed on a waiting gurney. The medics were already surrounding him. Cam hobbled over anyway, trying to hurry despite the pain.

Rodney was already at his friend’s side. ‘Hey.’

‘They shot up my plane, Rodney!’ John said.

‘I’ll fix it.’ Rodney promised, his hand closing over John’s forearm.

Cam could see John as he got closer; John’s skin was pale and clammy. There was a horrendous patch of red on his flight suit that the medics were peeling back.

‘Sheppard.’ Cam said, softly drawing John’s attention away from his team.

‘Mitchell.’ John’s pain-glazed eyes met his. ‘Thanks for the save.’

‘Same back.’ Cam said seriously.

The doctor looked up from his cursory examination and yelled for the medics to move. There was no way that Cam could keep up as the gurney was pushed forward at a run. He sighed with frustration.

Vala looped her arm around his. ‘He’ll be fine.’

‘Yeah.’ Cam felt Daniel move to stand beside him on his other side; Teal’c’s steady presence behind him. John would be fine…and so would Cam.

Epilogue: Back on the Ground

Cam tried not to fidget as Landry flipped the folder closed and looked at him.

‘You’ve made your decision then?’ Landry asked.

Cam nodded. ‘I have.’ He stilled the urge to squirm in his seat like a schoolboy in front of a principal. There had been another serious discussion with Carolyn and his specialist following his latest trip to the infirmary. Cam had agreed to the surgery and hence his meeting with a newly returned General to discuss the arrangements.

Landry nodded. ‘I’ll accept both your request for someone to be assigned temporarily and your recommendation for your replacement.’ He lowered his busy eyebrows. ‘Have you discussed this with Sheppard?’

‘Yes, he’s in agreement.’ Cam said firmly. He and John had traded phone calls in the days since their vacation had come to a sudden end. They’d ended up in the infirmary of the SGC for a day together before John had been transferred back to Atlantis and Cam had gone to the Academy hospital.

John had suggested Lorne as a candidate for the hopefully temporary position of SG1 leader while Cam was unavailable. Cam had agreed. He liked Lorne well enough and Lorne was a veteran of the programme; very well able to deal with the weirdness of it.

Unlike Morrow. The Odyssey commander had been quietly transferred back to regular forces. Cam had received a reprimand for stunning Morrow but nothing more than that. He was lucky; he could have been court martialed for assault. His jaw set. It would have been worth it, Cam thought decisively. More than worth it.

Landry frowned at him. ‘You and Sheppard seem to have it all worked out.’

‘I like to think we work well together.’ Cam replied mildly, trying not to react to the hint of disapproval in Landry’s tone when he spoke John’s name.

‘He earned you a reprimand.’ Landry pointed out dryly.

Cam held his tongue that it was a badge of honour. Instead, he shifted to meet Landry’s gaze unapologetically. ‘Sheppard had nothing to do with my decision to take control of the Odyssey. I would have done it for anyone.’ That Morrow was an idiot went without saying.

Landry harrumphed. He sat back and regarded Cam with the same mix of paternal affection and mentoring CO that he always did. ‘Some might say he’s a less than positive influence.’

‘Only those who don’t know him well.’ Cam said firmly. His words were a warning and Landry nodded in acknowledgement that he was treading too close to something Cam believed was none of his business. ‘He’s a good man and a good friend.’

‘Well, I can’t argue with that.’ Landry said. He leaned forward suddenly and tapped the folder. ‘I take it he had something to do with this beyond suggesting Lorne?’

‘He helped me make the decision.’ Cam allowed. John had listened to him weigh up the pros and cons for days.

‘Good.’ Landry’s eyes gleamed. ‘There may be hope for him yet.’ He waved at Cam. ‘I’ll get the paperwork processed.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Cam replied, waiting for the dismissal.

Landry hesitated. ‘About what happened with Allia…’

Cam struggled to keep the anger from flashing in his eyes but he thought he’d been successful when Landry remained apologetic.

‘Initially, the decision not to inform you was at her request and later, when she confessed that she was Allia’s daughter and not her, it was done to protect you since your name was the one that had leaked out.’ Landry sighed. ‘I realise that it may not seem effective given what happened.’

‘I’m not sure it would have made a difference either way, sir.’ Cam murmured, letting his CO off the hook. And it was the truth. Cam figured that the Alliance would have come after him either way. Would it have been better to have been forewarned? Cam couldn’t say. He wasn’t about to suggest that they go back and change time to find out.

Landry nodded slowly. ‘How’s Miss Vandenburg?’

‘She’s doing well.’ Cam said. Amy had been freed of the Goa’uld by the Tok’ra but she was struggling to come to terms with events. She had asked Cam to give her some space, telling him she didn’t blame him but that he was too much of a reminder of what she had been through. She wanted to move on and he couldn’t stand in her way. He mourned the loss of their friendship but he believed that ultimately he’d made the right decision not to marry her. He loved Amy but not enough; he’d used her just as much as the Alliance in the end and that was something he was still working on forgiving himself for.

Landry seemed about to say something else – impart some fatherly wisdom perhaps – but instead he relented and dismissed Cam briskly.

Cam made his way through the mountain to Daniel’s office. He could hear the voices of his team drifting down the corridor, feminine laughter spilling out into the corridor. His spirits lightened a little and helped the nerves churning in his belly. He straightened his shoulders and went in.

They all turned to greet him.

His eyes immediately went to Sam, dressed in a flight suit wearing the patches of The General Hammond. Mitchell’s eyes warmed. She deserved the ship; hell, she’d designed it.

‘Hey, congratulations!’ He said, nudging her elbow and almost upsetting the half-full mug of coffee in her hand.

Sam beamed at him while surreptitiously directing him to sit on the stool next to her. ‘I’m happy I’ve finally taken command of her.’

‘Shouldn’t you be up there?’ Cam asked, wondering why she was on the ground when the Hammond was in orbit.

‘I had to handover some stuff to Bill,’ Sam explained, gesturing with her coffee, ‘and I wanted to catch up with you guys. I haven’t seen you…’

‘Since yesterday.’ Daniel interjected quietly. He hid his face in his own mug of coffee when Sam shot him a dirty look.

‘She has been missed.’ Teal’c remonstrated gently, bowing his head at Sam.

Vala nodded enthusiastically. ‘Very.’ She suddenly hugged Sam, placing her head on Sam’s shoulder and holding on tightly. ‘Don’t leave me again with the boys!’ She proclaimed dramatically.

Sam patted her back but her eyes met Cam’s over Vala’s head and Cam wasn’t surprised when she rolled them at him. ‘Sorry, Vala, but I think duty is going to call me any minute.’

‘You mean Jack.’ Daniel said slyly.

‘Someone cracked the ninth chevron game last night.’ Sam grinned at Daniel’s outrage.

‘Why didn’t Nick call me?’ Daniel asked grumpily.

‘You know Rush.’ Sam shrugged. ‘He got Jack out of bed this morning with the news. They’ve gone to convince the kid to go with them and Senator Armstrong for a demonstration.’ She held up a hand before Daniel could say anything more. ‘If you want to go you’ll have to badger Landry.’

Cam hid a smile at her glee.

Daniel subsided.

‘Actually, I’m glad you’re all here.’ Cam placed his clasped hands on the bench in front of him and regarded them all nervously. ‘I have something to tell you…’

They heard him out; the news about his physical condition, the surgery, how it all got tangled up with Amy…and his decision to have the surgery and the temporary assignment of Lorne as team leader.

‘Lorne’s a good choice.’ Sam said approvingly. ‘At least he seemed able to handle it in the other reality I visited.’

Cam had forgotten that. He smiled. ‘Well, it’s good to know I’m leaving the team in capable hands.’ He tried to be blasé but as Daniel’s eyes narrowed, Cam knew he hadn’t been as successful as he had wanted.

‘Are you nervous about the surgery?’ Vala asked bluntly, proving that Cam hadn’t been able to shake the anxiety out of his voice. She moved; looping her arm around his and squeezing comfortingly. ‘Because you know Samantha and I will be doing everything we can to help you.’

Sam nodded her agreement.

He felt warmed by that; knowing they’d both help him heal with the Goa’uld hand device. It meant that potentially his recovery would be in weeks rather than months. ‘Thanks, Vala.’

‘We will all assist you in your recovery, Colonel Mitchell,’ Teal’c added as Sam slipped away to discreetly talk on her earpiece with her ship, ‘in whatever way we can.’

Cam nodded, a lump in his throat making it difficult for him to reply.

Daniel’s gaze met his across the small office that was so filled with Daniel, with the souvenirs of SG1 in all its formations. ‘We’re not going anywhere, Mitchell.’

And there it was the reassurance he’d been after; that they would wait for him to come back. That he wouldn’t have a repeat of the last time when he’d turned up to join them and found they had scattered to pursue other things and left him alone.

‘Actually, I am going somewhere.’ Sam cut in. She placed her mug down and sighed. ‘They just beamed the kid up. I have to go prepare for launch.’ She slipped her arms around Cam as Vala moved back. ‘I’ll call you when I get back.’ She stepped back again before Cam could return the hug and disappeared in a flash of white.

Cam shook his head and smiled.

‘What?’ Vala asked seeing his expression.

‘Just something Sheppard said.’ Cam explained. He waved at where Sam had disappeared. ‘He thinks no-one really leaves SG1.’

Daniel and Teal’c exchanged a shared look of history and affection before they turned the same gaze on Cam and Vala. ‘He was right.’

‘We will always be SG1.’ Teal’c concurred.

Cam felt his shoulders loosen; the tension leaving them completely. He grinned back at his team. ‘So, what are you guys up to anyway?’

Daniel’s face immediately brightened as Vala shot Cam a look that said ‘you had to say that?’ and Teal’c smiled with his eyes as the archaeologist launched into an explanation of something to do with Mayan artefacts…

Cam didn’t mind. He settled back to enjoy the show as Daniel’s arms started waving and gesturing. Vala slipped her arm through his again and he gave her a grateful smile; he really did love his team.

o-O-o

The lights of Atlantis shone brightly behind him and the lights of the bay of San Francisco shone just as brightly in front. John gazed out on the dark ripples of water. It was weird to think that no-one on land could see the city cloaked as she was. He leaned back, his legs dangling over the pier and turned his attention to the night sky. He was pleased that his shoulder had healed enough to bear his weight again. It had been a through and through; some muscle damage Vala had healed once he’d been stabilised by the doctors.

He was nicely buzzed. There was enough alcohol fizzing through his system to leave him relaxed and slightly floating; not enough that he was completely incoherent and incapable of moving. It was a good place to be.

Rodney shifted beside him. The scientist was lying flat on his back, a bottle of beer balanced on his belly.

They’d made an evening of it; dinner with Teyla and Ronon followed by sitting out on the pier, the two of them drinking and exchanging Dad stories. There was a competitive edge to the stories even if there was nothing to play for but that’s how his friendship worked with Rodney and he wasn’t about to change it. He’d confided about his mother’s death and had the comfort of Rodney being as outraged as Mitchell had been when John had told him his Dad had actually said it had been John’s fault. He was beginning to believe that it might not have been…that maybe he had just been a scared eleven year old kid who had done the best he could.

Just as he had been a scared adult doing the best he could for the last five years, John mused, taking a deep breath of air. Maybe if he could start to forgive himself for his Mom, he could start to forgive himself for the other losses.

It was a start.

Rodney sighed loudly; the noise travelling through the quiet. John gazed back at him questioningly.

‘I was just thinking about the story you told you know when you were in the helicopter and we were on the Odyssey coming to save you.’ Rodney said, turning to look at him. His face was creased with sadness. ‘I was just thinking that there’s only you and me left now who get that moment when you sat in the chair and plucked that image of the solar system out of the database with your mind. Elizabeth’s gone and Carson. I mean, I know our Carson now has the memories of it but he wasn’t actually the one who was there, who let the drone almost kill you.’

‘I know.’ John said quietly, letting his own sadness fill him up. He returned his gaze to the night sky.

‘Did you really think I was irate and pissed off?’ Rodney asked.

‘Mostly, I thought orange.’ John returned.

Rodney kicked out with his leg, brushing John’s rather than landing a severe blow.

‘It was cold! And visible! You know if I’d gotten lost.’ Rodney said defensively.

Maybe he could ask Rodney to wear orange all the time, John mused; then John wouldn’t lose him like he’d lost the others.

As though Rodney had read his mind, he suddenly began talking again. ‘I expect you to be telling that story to my children one day but less of the irate and pissed off and…’

‘Orange?’ quipped John.

‘And orange,’ agreed Rodney. His brow creased in consternation. ‘Are we drunk?’

‘Drunk enough.’ John declared. He followed Rodney’s example and laid back. He folded his hands over his stomach.

‘Oh, hey,’ Rodney flapped a hand at him, ‘how did the board meeting go earlier?’

John grimaced. He’d attended the board meeting of Sheppard International, keeping his promise to his brother. He could picture the stuffy board room with its line of wide windows on one side, and modern art hanging off the walls on the other; the neat table in the centre with its row of water glasses and folders. And the men and women around it; an army of business suits, laptops and Blackberrys that had made him shudder.

‘It was fine.’ John said, belatedly answering Rodney’s question. ‘The guy who tried to oppose Dave’s proposal got his numbers wrong.’

Something John had pointed out. Didicott – and it had been all John could do not to snigger at the name – had blustered and said John was wrong until Dave had stood up for him, pointing out that John had a Masters in Applied Mathematics and made instantaneous advanced calculations in his head as a matter of course in flying a fighter jet. John had been touched by the support and the knowledge that Dave apparently knew he was smarter than he sometimes wanted to appear. Didicott had been soundly trounced; Dave’s position was secure.

‘You going to spend more time with Dave while we’re on Earth?’ Rodney asked a little tentatively.

‘Maybe.’ John murmured. He and Dave had spoken about a family trip out to Clancyville. Dave wanted to show his kids the ranch and make it a tradition for them as it had been a tradition for him and John. John could get behind that. He’d finally met Dave’s kids and his wife and he liked Dave’s family. His family. ‘You going to see Jeannie?’

‘She invited me.’ Rodney said grumpily.

So that was a yes, John thought amused.

‘She wants me to bring Jennifer.’ Rodney said with a touch of horror in his voice. ‘I mean, I know I love Jennifer but I don’t think we’re quite ready to be, you know, doing the whole family thing and…sorry; you don’t need to hear this.’

‘Hey.’ John nudged him. ‘You want to talk about it; go ahead and talk about it.’

Rodney looked over at him. ‘I feel bad though because you don’t have anyone.’ His eyes widened in shock as though he hadn’t meant to be that honest. ‘Not that you have to have anyone; being single is a perfectly valid choice and it’s not like you couldn’t get someone if you wanted someone which – I mean, do you? Because they’re a couple of new scientists who are exactly your type – well, not Ascended but you know willowy brunettes who have that whole…’

John began laughing and Rodney stopped babbling.

‘Crap.’ Rodney muttered. ‘I said I wasn’t going to be that type of friend.’ He motioned with his bottle. ‘You know the one that hooks up and tries to match make everyone else.’

‘You’re not that type of friend.’ John assured him. He reached over and patted Rodney’s shoulder. ‘And I’m OK.’

‘Really?’ asked Rodney seriously.

John met Rodney’s concerned gaze and smiled. ‘Really.’

The conversation on the pier stayed with John through the next couple of days as did the feeling that he truly was OK. He was sleeping better; eating more. He’d lost the bone deep sense of exhaustion that had dogged him before.

He headed out to the company airfield near Colorado and waited for Mitchell outside the hangar. His friend pulled up in a classic car that had John drooling a little and he admired it while they greeted each other.

Mitchell regarded him curiously. ‘OK, so you tempted me here with the words you had some kind of big surprise?’

John grinned at him. He gestured for Mitchell to follow him inside the hangar.

Mitchell’s mouth obligingly fell open at the sight of the brand new Cessna. ‘Wow.’

‘Dave bought her for me.’ John said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocking back on them. ‘He said it was a get well present.’

‘You think he’ll buy me one after my surgery?’ Mitchell asked teasingly.

John laughed. ‘You never know.’ He started to walk towards his newest possession. ‘Come on.’

Mitchell followed him eagerly. ‘OK, so we’re going flying, right? You didn’t drag me all the way here just to show me how beautiful she is. Oh,’ he pointed at John, ‘what are you calling her?’

John stopped and turned to Mitchell. ‘I thought I’d call her Gina.’

After Lovell who’d saved both their lives.

John had kept his promise there too; he’d gone to Washington and met with Stanley who had been pleased at the impact his friendship had had on Gina although he’d been upset about her death.

Mitchell nodded. ‘Gina. I can agree to that.’

John smiled in amusement. ‘So I think I won our last story competition; my Antarctica story definitely beat yours.’

‘What?’ Mitchell mock-glared at him. ‘I don’t think so. I almost died!’

‘I met Rodney.’ John shot back as they started walking again.

‘OK, but I almost died!’ Mitchell argued.

John smiled and let Mitchell continue to argue as they set about the technical check. John glanced back at the blue sky and his heart leaped happily.

They’d be up there soon; flying.

Free as birds.

It was all he had ever wanted.

‘Hey, Sheppard!’ Mitchell yanked his attention back to the plane. ‘Are we flying or what?’

His blue eyes shone with wry knowledge, as though he knew what John had been thinking. He probably did, John realised with amusement.

‘Yeah,’ John said joyfully, ‘we’re flying.’

fin.