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Title: My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This - Part 5/5
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: 4,249
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Summary: The offer of a clean slate is great but the commute is a bitch
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
“I’m sorry,” Dean says. “But you’d better have one hell of a horse tranquiliser ready if you think you’re going anywhere without me.”
John looks at Carson who rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. “I’m not tranqing him,” he snaps.
“No,” John says, turning back to Dean. “You’re a civilian, we have a trained extraction team for stuff like this and-“
“I’m just going to have to stop you right there and tell you that I don’t give a good goddamn about any foofy extraction team,” Dean says as John raises his eyebrows and mouths foofy. “I started training in weapons and hand-to-hand when I was four. Can you show me anyone in this team of yours that can say the same?”
“Let him come,” Ronon interjects and John turns a glare on him.
“You’re not helping,” he snaps, feeling slightly betrayed.
“Well, you only have my word for it that I’m military,” Ronon adds and now John looks truly appalled.
“You’re going to give me stroke,” he complains and Ronon snorts.
“You’ve been hanging out too much with McKay.”
“Teyla isn’t military either so if that’s your line of argument then-“
“I like you better when you’re the strong silent type,” John growls and Ronon simply shrugs and smiles in return. Dean is watching the whole scene play out between the two men, obviously knowing it’s in his best interest not to interrupt.
“If it were one of us would you let Lorne’s team go through and sit here in Atlantis twiddling your thumbs?”
“Where did you get that expression from?” John sighs, holding up a hand when Ronon opens his mouth. “Never mind, I think I can guess. And the answer is no, but this is different.”
“How? We’re duty-bound to retrieve our people and I’m thinking Winchester here is the same.”
“Elizabeth will never agree to it.”
“So we don’t tell her.”
“I’m not openly defying Elizabeth,” John snorts and Ronon raises his eyebrows.
“Why? You have before.”
“Why don’t you just punch me in the crotch? It’ll be less painful than this conversation.”
“Please don’t,” Carson interrupts. “It’s a lotta paperwork and John has never been a good patient.”
“Look, my hands are-“
“If you finish that sentence the way I think you’re going to, I will lose all respect for you,” Ronon warns and John looks stricken, cutting his eyes to Dean and back again.
“Get him suited up and into the Jumper Bay before we get there or I swear to God we’re leaving without you,” John says, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
Ronon eyes Dean critically and then grins. “You know, you’re about Lorne’s size…”
000
Teyla wakes in a cell and she supposes that is better than the alternative. She’s never ended up in a cocoon and she never wants to. It would feel too much like death.
She casts about in the dim light until her eyes adjust enough to see a figure in the corner, lying curled on their side with knees drawn up to their chest. Teyla scoots across on her knees, leaning over and pushing a shaggy mess of hair back to reveal the face she was hoping to see.
“Sam?” she prods gently. His face is knotted up with tension, almost like he’s in pain but he doesn’t appear to be conscious and it worries her.
He is though, because he says, “They gave me something,” in a voice that sounds scraped raw.
“What do you mean?” she asks, getting an arm carefully under his neck and shoulders so she can move his head into her lap. He’s curled tight and lets out a small whimper when she moves him. “Did they put something in your back?” she asks, terrified that Sam will be some kind of new sport to them. Her fingers walk the top of his spine though and it feels unbroken.
“No… something… they left me in a room and pumped gas in. It smelled… and I haven’t felt right.”
Teyla puts the back of her hand to Sam’s forehead and hisses when she feels how hot he is. The skin is broken on either side of Sam’s nose and Teyla touches it gingerly. An idea occurs to her, too horrible to dwell on but possible enough to turn her blood icy in her veins.
Teyla pulls one of the hands that is curled against Sam’s chest towards her and opens it carefully, palm out. The skin is bruised looking but mercifully unbroken. However, when Teyla runs her fingers over it she can feel tiny bumps underneath the flesh.
“Our friends will be here soon,” she says. It’s been a long time since she has felt hopeless but she feels it now.
000
Lorne raises his eyebrows when he first steps into the Jumper but doesn’t say anything. There’s not a lot he can say about a second man with Lorne stitched across his breast being present.
“I’m assuming Sheppard knows,” he says, dropping into the pilot’s seat.
“There was definitely a formal protest lodged but yes, he knows,” Dean nods, taking the co-pilot’s seat. When Lorne just stares at him, he clears his throat, offers a sheepish grin and moves to one of the seats behind.
“You’re a real pain in the ass,” Lorne says but when he turns, he’s wearing a knowing smile. “My little brother’s name is Oliver. Little shit drives me crazy but if anything ever happened to him I’m not sure I would survive.”
Dean sits back, waiting for the others to arrive. He can hear the sound of Rodney McKay approaching, voice pitched high and thick with complaint before he’s even arrived. Dean notes the little wince Lorne wears and grins to himself.
“I hope you realise,” Rodney says, when he enters and shoos Dean out of the seat he has designated as his with an imperious wave. “That the only reason we are able to go and save your brother is because I’m brilliant.”
“I’m kinda getting that,” Dean says and Rodney looks mollified. “So, what’s the plan? I missed the briefing.”
Sheppard and Ronon, followed by the three other members of the extraction team, arrive at the back of the Jumper. Sheppard moves immediately the second of the pilot’s chairs while Ronon takes the seat that is behind where Dean has finally settled.
“I’ve been able to pinpoint your brother’s location,” Rodney says, holding up a datapad and waving it in Dean’s direction, not bothering to hold it still for long enough for Dean to actually read anything off it. “And because of my brilliant Space Bridge scheme-“
“Which we dismantled,” Lorne interrupts from his position and Dean grins when Rodney glares at the back of his head.
“Which we were forced to dismantle,” Rodney sniffs. “We have a Space ‘gate close enough to reach by Jumper. While we are away, one of the ‘gates also harvested but pulled out of original position will be moved into geo-synchronous orbit around the planet Atlantis is on so we have somewhere to come back to.”
“Neat,” Dean says and Rodney glowers at him.
“Don’t humor me. It’s more than neat.”
“Look, dude, anything to get Sam back is good for me. At this point I’ll build a statue and sing hymns to your holy name if you’ll just get my brother back.”
“See,” Rodney says, looking at John with a smirk. “Not such an out-there idea to have a little something commemorating my-“
“Rodney!” John barks and Rodney is immediately subdued, something Dean notices and finds fascinating. If he weren’t so worried he’d think more about the brittle power-structure going on in Atlantis and the people that live within her walls.
Dean shrugs. “Just point me in the direction of the bad guys,” he says and feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks over at Ronon who is grinning.
“Man after my own heart,” Ronon says.
Carson is the last on board, waving Dean back into his chair when Dean offers to sit in the back. “I know you want to be closer to the door laddy,” he huffs with a small smile.
000
“So tell me,” Dean says, almost conversationally. “We got interrupted before anyone could explain the whole using my brother as a weapon thing I was asking about.”
Rodney blinks wide eyes at him and John hunches lower in his seat. Ronon doesn’t look disturbed in the least, but Dean figures the way he’s looking interested, he probably doesn’t know much about it himself.
“I just figured, what the hey? I have a captive audience for the next eight hours or so,” Dean adds.
“He wasn’t going to be a weapon per se,” Rodney protests but John is shaking his head.
“Believe me; Elizabeth had some choice words to say about that herself. She got overruled.”
“I really don’t want to know how it’s not your fault. I just want to know how it’s supposed to work,” Dean snaps and then holds up his hands, grimacing. “Sorry, little tense here.”
“You do know your brother’s… different, right?” Rodney says and John rolls his eyes and smirks.
“All we were getting on Earth was some weird-o visions and a little moving of the furniture when he was pushed,” Dean says, noting the way everyone’s attention, already on him, becomes more focused. Rodney’s mouth has dropped open and John is frowning and rubbing at his chin.
“He does what?” Carson has unbelted himself from the back section and moved to the front. The other members of the extraction team are trying not to be intrusive but in the small space there really isn’t anywhere else to look.
“He saw me die, in his head,” Dean says slowly. “He moved a big-ass wardrobe thing with his brain.”
“You saw that?” Rodney sputters.
“No, I didn’t see it but he wasn’t making it up,” Dean says. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, looking tense. “Sometimes when he has the bad nightmares, things shake. Little things. A lamp or his watch on the bedside table. He broke a window once in his sleep but it was never anything drastic and I didn’t want to tell him because he was worried enough.”
“You don’t think…” Carson says, looking amazed and John shakes his head.
“Not possible.”
“Well, it is actually possible, Colonel,” Carson says and Dean is looking between them, getting frustrated.
“What is?” he demands.
“It’s not possible,” John insists, waving a hand at Dean. “He’s the one with the gene.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that makes a difference. You don’t have to be descended from the Ancients to achieve Ascension.”
“What?” Dean asks, not liking the way the silence that follows that sentence feels charged.
000
“Hearing about space vampires and actually seeing them are a little different,” Sam says. The pain seems to have passed for now but Teyla is watching him, wary. His features seem sharper and even though the changes aren’t drastic, she remembers nightmares where she looked in a mirror and saw herself as one of them. She knows what Michael looked like the last time they had seen him. Not purely human but not all the way back to Wraith either.
“We just have to be patient. Our friends will come for us,” Teyla says.
“You good with that?” Sam asks, sliding up the wall he was leaning against and moving towards the door. “Being patient?”
Teyla wonders if it is just a trick of her exhaustion that Sam’s voice sounds like it is pitched lower, more gravelly.
“Not generally, no,” she admits. “But sometimes the right thing to do is stay alive.” She watches Sam feel along the edges of the doorway, remembering sharing a cell with Ronon and how he had been unable to sit still and wait for rescue either.
“You don’t happen to have knives on you, do you?” Teyla asks, not really expecting anything but when Sam starts patting himself down, she realises it wasn’t such a ludicrous question after all. He gets down to his boots and makes a little “Aha,” noise, standing and holding three small blades aloft.
“Well,” Teyla says, smiling. “Maybe we can save the being patient plan idea as something John calls Plan B.”
000
“Glowy energy beings?” Dean snorts, sounding incredulous.
“We’re on our way to save your brother from life-sucking vampires who can feasibly live forever. Are you going to at least try to be a little open-minded?” Rodney snaps and Dean grins, ducking his head.
“Sorry.”
“Anyway,” John says. “These people lived in Atlantis a long time ago. They escaped to Earth when the Wraith looked likely to overrun them. They did a lot of stuff in between but the end of the story is that they learned how to become pure energy and on this path, they started showing… abilities.”
“Where’d you learn all this?” Dean asks.
“Locked in a time bubble with people trying to achieve the same thing,” John answers, waving a dismissive hand. “Long, boring story. And I mean long.”
“So you think Sam-?”
“We’re not going to assume anything,” John says, levelling his gaze at Carson who shrugs. “But your brother is manifesting abilities and it just sounds… like too much of a coincidence.”
“Can’t there just be normal, everyday psychics?” Dean asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Possibly,” Carson interjects. “But it’s more likely that we humans have reached a stage where some of us are starting the path the Ancients did a long time ago.”
“I can’t believe that,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Sam and the others had something done to them. This isn’t a natural progression. A demon-“
“The creatures that you hunt, the demons that you see… they are certainly from another plane of existence, governed by different physical rules but the chances of them being from actual hell, the fire and brimstone kind are remote. They are probably from a place that closely resembles the religious version of hell but it’s just another state of being.”
“They possess people,” Dean snaps.
“So does a parasite the SGC found on their very first foray through the Stargate. Creatures known as the Goa’uld. Plus, one Goa’uld was stuck between states, cast down from Ascension but not able to take physical form. He possessed people and had the appearance of black smoke when he was outside a body,” Carson explains, watching Dean carefully.
“Holy crap,” Dean breathes. “But why do crosses work? Silver, salt, that kind of thing?”
“That I can’t answer,” Carson says. “But from what I hear tell of what you boys do, thank God they do.”
“We’ll be landing in a few,” Lorne says from his place, turning slightly. “It’s what we were hoping for. Looks like a crashed or damaged Hiveship, half buried. A few operational darts but we may not be dealing with hundreds of Wraith, just a few survivors.”
“A few is a few too many,” Rodney sighs, gathering his equipment and looking pensive.
“Anything I need to know?” Dean asks.
“Keep shooting until they’re down,” Ronon says, pulling his energy weapon free of its holster and twirling it. Dean’s eyes widen and he grins.
“I was meaning to ask you, where can I get me one of those?”
000
They are out and halfway down a corridor when Sam doubles over, clutching at his stomach. Teyla doubles back and tries to help him forward but she can see from the lines of tension in his face that he’s not going to make it far and she’s realistic enough to know that there is absolutely no way she will be carrying him.
“Go, Teyla,” Sam chokes out when they hear booted feet nearing the bend in corridor they are hunkered in.
“I won’t-“
“Leave me behind? Yeah, I know that but you have to leave me right at this moment. No use us both being back in those cells.”
Teyla takes a moment to squeeze Sam’s hand and then runs for it, hoping with every fibre of her being that they aren’t orbiting a planet somewhere. When she sees daylight, for a moment she thinks it’s her eyes playing tricks on her. It’s only when she runs over a hill outside of the half-buried hive ship and smacks into something hard, unyielding and not there that she really believes she is out.
Sheppard appears from out of thin air and Teyla almost laughs at the comically surprised look on his face.
“Um, we were just coming to rescue you,” he says, looking almost disappointed that she’s gone and saved herself.
“Sam,” she says as Dean appears behind John’s shoulder. “He’s still in the Hive and something… something’s happening to him. Tell me you brought Carson.”
000
“We know they’ve done something similar before. Hell, for all we know these are the exact same Wraith that experimented on Teyla’s people,” Carson says, looking around the assembled group. Ronon has a firm grip on Dean’s shoulder because he rightly suspects that he wants nothing more than to tear down the hill and inside the Hive, guns blazing.
“Care to fill me in?” Dean says, looking stricken.
“Basically, it’s never a good idea to let a weapon you’ve developed fall into enemy hands because they will, inevitably, find a way to use it against you,” Rodney explains and Dean flushes an angry red.
“Stop calling him a weapon. Sam is a person.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry but the metaphor stands. From what little we have been able to garner about the Wraith telepathic ability, they can influence humans to a small extent but they can only actually communicate with each other, unless there is some Wraith DNA introduced into the human, as is in Teyla’s case.”
Dean blinks at Teyla and she grimaces. “It is true. It turns out my people were used by the Wraith to see the effect of such a thing. I am descended from those who survived.”
“So why would they do that to Sam?”
“We’re not really sure but it’s possible they want a Wraith hybrid that can communicate directly with humans. Your brother has abilities they would also find useful. There were a people called the Genii who had the right idea. They left a small amount of their population on the surface of their planet play-acting at being primitive while they grew and expanded underground, hiding their technology so the Wraith wouldn’t feel threatened. They may see Sam as a way of stopping that kind of thing.”
Lorne arrived back at that moment with the rest of his team. “Looks like a few guards but no one really watching the outside. I don’t think they were alerted to our arrival.”
“Alright. Well, we’re wasting time. We go in now,” John says, nodding towards the hill.
000
Dean, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney and John make their way towards the cells while the others lay charges through the ship, Carson staying with the Jumper despite his protests. “Most likely place,” Teyla explains as they make their way through the humid tunnels of the ship.
Just as Dean is passing by one of the first cells, an arm shoots out and grabs him around the throat. “Sam?” Dean chokes as the arm is reeled back towards the cell, Dean being dragged along.
“Dean,” a voice curls out of the darkness, making gooseflesh rise on Dean’s skin. He would know that voice anywhere, it is definitely his brother but also not. He remembers how Sam sounded with Meg squatted inside him, how his voice had an edge to it, barely contained malice and smoke.
“Sammy, it’s me. Ease up,” Dean says, waving Ronon off who has come forward to try and free him.
“Dean…” Sam says again and Dean tries to turn enough to see his brother through the webbing stretching over the doorway but all he can see is Sam’s arm and shoulder. His face is turned away in shadow. “I can’t… too loud. My head…”
“Sammy, you gotta let me go little brother. We’re going to get you out of here but you’ve gotta work with us.”
“Hurts Dean,” Sam says and Dean feels his heart clench because Sam sounds so young.
“I know kiddo, I know. I’m going to fix that.”
The hand disappears from around his throat and Dean steps back a little. He looks around and see that Rodney is already working on what he assumes is the door mechanism. The webbing peels back with a sticky sound that Dean knows will live with him for a long time and he gets an armload of Sam as his brother falls forward through the opening.
Dean lowers them both to the floor, trusting the others to watch for any approaching Wraith and pushes Sam’s hair out of his face, hitching a breath in when he gets a clear look. Sam has slits on either side of his nose and his skin is almost grey. Through his parted lips, Dean can see that his gums are red and sore-looking at it’s almost as if another set of teeth are pushing through which gives him a horrible flashback to the vampires of Earth. Sam grasps weakly at his forearm and Dean feels something sharp there too but doesn’t look.
He doesn’t want to know.
“Alright, can I?” Ronon asks, gesturing. Dean looks up at him for a moment before he realises what Ronon means. Of all of them, Ronon is the only one of a size with Sam and therefore the best chance of carrying him out of there. Dean wants to help, but Sam is out cold, dead weight.
Dean nods and helps Ronon get Sam slung over his shoulder. Ronon grimaces and shifts his weight but shows no other outward sign that Sam is a burden at all.
“Charges set,” Lorne’s voice crackles through the radio.
“We have Winchester,” John replies. “Set for five minutes. We are leaving.”
Dean has never been so glad to hear that in his whole life.
000
Dean has pretty much decided that, despite the presence of Carson, he hates the infirmary.
He sees Rodney rush by in the hallway and then duck back, poking his head in and raising his eyebrows. “We’re fine,” Dean says, touched at the scientist’s concern. Rodney huffs something that might be the word, good and disappears again. He’d tried explaining to Dean that morning how exciting it was to work on the space ‘gate conversion to be able to install it in Atlantis and Dean had nodded along but hadn’t understood a word in twenty.
“Don’t you have somewhere you’re rather be?” Sam croaks and Dean turns back to see him with eyes slitted open, a vague smile on his face.
“Hey BFG,” he says, rubbing a quick forearm over his eyes. “I’m thinking this whole infirmary gig is for the birds. How about I spring you?”
“I have to stay until I’m done with Carson’s anti-Wraith-botics,” Sam says, sounding exhausted. He tilts a chin towards the infirmary doorway. “Plus, armed guard remember?”
“We can take ‘em,” Dean assures, sketching a little one-two box in the air with his fists and Sam chuckles.
“Are we staying here?” Sam asks, watching Dean scoop Jello into his mouth from Sam’s tray. “I know we’re supposed to be here six months but I figured you’ve probably already applied for a get out of jail free on account of Wraith kidnapping card.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about it, but it’s up to you.”
“How’d you figure?”
“Well, you were the damsel in distress. If you want to leave they can eat our dust.”
“But?”
“What? There’s no but here.”
“There’s always a but with you and it’s not always your head.”
“Har har. I see Carson’s drugs aren’t affecting your sparkling wit.”
“You’re thinking they can help me maybe? They told you something that I don’t know?” Sam asks, trying to catch Dean’s gaze but he is suddenly very interested in the jug of water on Sam’s wheeled table. He turns it around in his hands, tracing the condensation with his fingers.
“I think it’s dangerous for you here but I’m also thinking it’s dangerous for you back home and at least here the bad guys have to get through a shield and a city full of people to get to you.”
“You like it here,” Sam accuses.
“I don’t hate it,” he admits, looking up at Sam through his lashes. He misses the Impala, beer and doing whatever he pleases, but something about the place calls to him, like nothing ever has. He figures it’s probably the freaky gene he’s supposedly carrying around but being surrounded by military is also weirdly comforting. Dean knows if it weren’t for the Hunt, he probably would have ended up in a military arm of some sort.
“We can stay,” Sam says, tugging at the sheet over his chest. “I mean, apparently you have the acto-gene that lets people fly those Puddle Jumpers. I mean, we have to at least stay long enough for you to do that.” Sam grins and raises an eyebrow. “I’m thinking it’s going to take at least a few months for you to talk Colonel Sheppard into letting you.”
“Okay, but no getting kidnapped, at least without me.”
“Agreed,” Sam says. His smile grows wider when he notices Teyla, Ronon and John standing in the doorway.
“How you doin’, stretch?” John asks.
By:
kellifer_ficFandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: 4,249
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Summary: The offer of a clean slate is great but the commute is a bitch
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
“I’m sorry,” Dean says. “But you’d better have one hell of a horse tranquiliser ready if you think you’re going anywhere without me.”
John looks at Carson who rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. “I’m not tranqing him,” he snaps.
“No,” John says, turning back to Dean. “You’re a civilian, we have a trained extraction team for stuff like this and-“
“I’m just going to have to stop you right there and tell you that I don’t give a good goddamn about any foofy extraction team,” Dean says as John raises his eyebrows and mouths foofy. “I started training in weapons and hand-to-hand when I was four. Can you show me anyone in this team of yours that can say the same?”
“Let him come,” Ronon interjects and John turns a glare on him.
“You’re not helping,” he snaps, feeling slightly betrayed.
“Well, you only have my word for it that I’m military,” Ronon adds and now John looks truly appalled.
“You’re going to give me stroke,” he complains and Ronon snorts.
“You’ve been hanging out too much with McKay.”
“Teyla isn’t military either so if that’s your line of argument then-“
“I like you better when you’re the strong silent type,” John growls and Ronon simply shrugs and smiles in return. Dean is watching the whole scene play out between the two men, obviously knowing it’s in his best interest not to interrupt.
“If it were one of us would you let Lorne’s team go through and sit here in Atlantis twiddling your thumbs?”
“Where did you get that expression from?” John sighs, holding up a hand when Ronon opens his mouth. “Never mind, I think I can guess. And the answer is no, but this is different.”
“How? We’re duty-bound to retrieve our people and I’m thinking Winchester here is the same.”
“Elizabeth will never agree to it.”
“So we don’t tell her.”
“I’m not openly defying Elizabeth,” John snorts and Ronon raises his eyebrows.
“Why? You have before.”
“Why don’t you just punch me in the crotch? It’ll be less painful than this conversation.”
“Please don’t,” Carson interrupts. “It’s a lotta paperwork and John has never been a good patient.”
“Look, my hands are-“
“If you finish that sentence the way I think you’re going to, I will lose all respect for you,” Ronon warns and John looks stricken, cutting his eyes to Dean and back again.
“Get him suited up and into the Jumper Bay before we get there or I swear to God we’re leaving without you,” John says, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
Ronon eyes Dean critically and then grins. “You know, you’re about Lorne’s size…”
Teyla wakes in a cell and she supposes that is better than the alternative. She’s never ended up in a cocoon and she never wants to. It would feel too much like death.
She casts about in the dim light until her eyes adjust enough to see a figure in the corner, lying curled on their side with knees drawn up to their chest. Teyla scoots across on her knees, leaning over and pushing a shaggy mess of hair back to reveal the face she was hoping to see.
“Sam?” she prods gently. His face is knotted up with tension, almost like he’s in pain but he doesn’t appear to be conscious and it worries her.
He is though, because he says, “They gave me something,” in a voice that sounds scraped raw.
“What do you mean?” she asks, getting an arm carefully under his neck and shoulders so she can move his head into her lap. He’s curled tight and lets out a small whimper when she moves him. “Did they put something in your back?” she asks, terrified that Sam will be some kind of new sport to them. Her fingers walk the top of his spine though and it feels unbroken.
“No… something… they left me in a room and pumped gas in. It smelled… and I haven’t felt right.”
Teyla puts the back of her hand to Sam’s forehead and hisses when she feels how hot he is. The skin is broken on either side of Sam’s nose and Teyla touches it gingerly. An idea occurs to her, too horrible to dwell on but possible enough to turn her blood icy in her veins.
Teyla pulls one of the hands that is curled against Sam’s chest towards her and opens it carefully, palm out. The skin is bruised looking but mercifully unbroken. However, when Teyla runs her fingers over it she can feel tiny bumps underneath the flesh.
“Our friends will be here soon,” she says. It’s been a long time since she has felt hopeless but she feels it now.
Lorne raises his eyebrows when he first steps into the Jumper but doesn’t say anything. There’s not a lot he can say about a second man with Lorne stitched across his breast being present.
“I’m assuming Sheppard knows,” he says, dropping into the pilot’s seat.
“There was definitely a formal protest lodged but yes, he knows,” Dean nods, taking the co-pilot’s seat. When Lorne just stares at him, he clears his throat, offers a sheepish grin and moves to one of the seats behind.
“You’re a real pain in the ass,” Lorne says but when he turns, he’s wearing a knowing smile. “My little brother’s name is Oliver. Little shit drives me crazy but if anything ever happened to him I’m not sure I would survive.”
Dean sits back, waiting for the others to arrive. He can hear the sound of Rodney McKay approaching, voice pitched high and thick with complaint before he’s even arrived. Dean notes the little wince Lorne wears and grins to himself.
“I hope you realise,” Rodney says, when he enters and shoos Dean out of the seat he has designated as his with an imperious wave. “That the only reason we are able to go and save your brother is because I’m brilliant.”
“I’m kinda getting that,” Dean says and Rodney looks mollified. “So, what’s the plan? I missed the briefing.”
Sheppard and Ronon, followed by the three other members of the extraction team, arrive at the back of the Jumper. Sheppard moves immediately the second of the pilot’s chairs while Ronon takes the seat that is behind where Dean has finally settled.
“I’ve been able to pinpoint your brother’s location,” Rodney says, holding up a datapad and waving it in Dean’s direction, not bothering to hold it still for long enough for Dean to actually read anything off it. “And because of my brilliant Space Bridge scheme-“
“Which we dismantled,” Lorne interrupts from his position and Dean grins when Rodney glares at the back of his head.
“Which we were forced to dismantle,” Rodney sniffs. “We have a Space ‘gate close enough to reach by Jumper. While we are away, one of the ‘gates also harvested but pulled out of original position will be moved into geo-synchronous orbit around the planet Atlantis is on so we have somewhere to come back to.”
“Neat,” Dean says and Rodney glowers at him.
“Don’t humor me. It’s more than neat.”
“Look, dude, anything to get Sam back is good for me. At this point I’ll build a statue and sing hymns to your holy name if you’ll just get my brother back.”
“See,” Rodney says, looking at John with a smirk. “Not such an out-there idea to have a little something commemorating my-“
“Rodney!” John barks and Rodney is immediately subdued, something Dean notices and finds fascinating. If he weren’t so worried he’d think more about the brittle power-structure going on in Atlantis and the people that live within her walls.
Dean shrugs. “Just point me in the direction of the bad guys,” he says and feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks over at Ronon who is grinning.
“Man after my own heart,” Ronon says.
Carson is the last on board, waving Dean back into his chair when Dean offers to sit in the back. “I know you want to be closer to the door laddy,” he huffs with a small smile.
“So tell me,” Dean says, almost conversationally. “We got interrupted before anyone could explain the whole using my brother as a weapon thing I was asking about.”
Rodney blinks wide eyes at him and John hunches lower in his seat. Ronon doesn’t look disturbed in the least, but Dean figures the way he’s looking interested, he probably doesn’t know much about it himself.
“I just figured, what the hey? I have a captive audience for the next eight hours or so,” Dean adds.
“He wasn’t going to be a weapon per se,” Rodney protests but John is shaking his head.
“Believe me; Elizabeth had some choice words to say about that herself. She got overruled.”
“I really don’t want to know how it’s not your fault. I just want to know how it’s supposed to work,” Dean snaps and then holds up his hands, grimacing. “Sorry, little tense here.”
“You do know your brother’s… different, right?” Rodney says and John rolls his eyes and smirks.
“All we were getting on Earth was some weird-o visions and a little moving of the furniture when he was pushed,” Dean says, noting the way everyone’s attention, already on him, becomes more focused. Rodney’s mouth has dropped open and John is frowning and rubbing at his chin.
“He does what?” Carson has unbelted himself from the back section and moved to the front. The other members of the extraction team are trying not to be intrusive but in the small space there really isn’t anywhere else to look.
“He saw me die, in his head,” Dean says slowly. “He moved a big-ass wardrobe thing with his brain.”
“You saw that?” Rodney sputters.
“No, I didn’t see it but he wasn’t making it up,” Dean says. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, looking tense. “Sometimes when he has the bad nightmares, things shake. Little things. A lamp or his watch on the bedside table. He broke a window once in his sleep but it was never anything drastic and I didn’t want to tell him because he was worried enough.”
“You don’t think…” Carson says, looking amazed and John shakes his head.
“Not possible.”
“Well, it is actually possible, Colonel,” Carson says and Dean is looking between them, getting frustrated.
“What is?” he demands.
“It’s not possible,” John insists, waving a hand at Dean. “He’s the one with the gene.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that makes a difference. You don’t have to be descended from the Ancients to achieve Ascension.”
“What?” Dean asks, not liking the way the silence that follows that sentence feels charged.
“Hearing about space vampires and actually seeing them are a little different,” Sam says. The pain seems to have passed for now but Teyla is watching him, wary. His features seem sharper and even though the changes aren’t drastic, she remembers nightmares where she looked in a mirror and saw herself as one of them. She knows what Michael looked like the last time they had seen him. Not purely human but not all the way back to Wraith either.
“We just have to be patient. Our friends will come for us,” Teyla says.
“You good with that?” Sam asks, sliding up the wall he was leaning against and moving towards the door. “Being patient?”
Teyla wonders if it is just a trick of her exhaustion that Sam’s voice sounds like it is pitched lower, more gravelly.
“Not generally, no,” she admits. “But sometimes the right thing to do is stay alive.” She watches Sam feel along the edges of the doorway, remembering sharing a cell with Ronon and how he had been unable to sit still and wait for rescue either.
“You don’t happen to have knives on you, do you?” Teyla asks, not really expecting anything but when Sam starts patting himself down, she realises it wasn’t such a ludicrous question after all. He gets down to his boots and makes a little “Aha,” noise, standing and holding three small blades aloft.
“Well,” Teyla says, smiling. “Maybe we can save the being patient plan idea as something John calls Plan B.”
“Glowy energy beings?” Dean snorts, sounding incredulous.
“We’re on our way to save your brother from life-sucking vampires who can feasibly live forever. Are you going to at least try to be a little open-minded?” Rodney snaps and Dean grins, ducking his head.
“Sorry.”
“Anyway,” John says. “These people lived in Atlantis a long time ago. They escaped to Earth when the Wraith looked likely to overrun them. They did a lot of stuff in between but the end of the story is that they learned how to become pure energy and on this path, they started showing… abilities.”
“Where’d you learn all this?” Dean asks.
“Locked in a time bubble with people trying to achieve the same thing,” John answers, waving a dismissive hand. “Long, boring story. And I mean long.”
“So you think Sam-?”
“We’re not going to assume anything,” John says, levelling his gaze at Carson who shrugs. “But your brother is manifesting abilities and it just sounds… like too much of a coincidence.”
“Can’t there just be normal, everyday psychics?” Dean asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Possibly,” Carson interjects. “But it’s more likely that we humans have reached a stage where some of us are starting the path the Ancients did a long time ago.”
“I can’t believe that,” Dean says, shaking his head. “Sam and the others had something done to them. This isn’t a natural progression. A demon-“
“The creatures that you hunt, the demons that you see… they are certainly from another plane of existence, governed by different physical rules but the chances of them being from actual hell, the fire and brimstone kind are remote. They are probably from a place that closely resembles the religious version of hell but it’s just another state of being.”
“They possess people,” Dean snaps.
“So does a parasite the SGC found on their very first foray through the Stargate. Creatures known as the Goa’uld. Plus, one Goa’uld was stuck between states, cast down from Ascension but not able to take physical form. He possessed people and had the appearance of black smoke when he was outside a body,” Carson explains, watching Dean carefully.
“Holy crap,” Dean breathes. “But why do crosses work? Silver, salt, that kind of thing?”
“That I can’t answer,” Carson says. “But from what I hear tell of what you boys do, thank God they do.”
“We’ll be landing in a few,” Lorne says from his place, turning slightly. “It’s what we were hoping for. Looks like a crashed or damaged Hiveship, half buried. A few operational darts but we may not be dealing with hundreds of Wraith, just a few survivors.”
“A few is a few too many,” Rodney sighs, gathering his equipment and looking pensive.
“Anything I need to know?” Dean asks.
“Keep shooting until they’re down,” Ronon says, pulling his energy weapon free of its holster and twirling it. Dean’s eyes widen and he grins.
“I was meaning to ask you, where can I get me one of those?”
They are out and halfway down a corridor when Sam doubles over, clutching at his stomach. Teyla doubles back and tries to help him forward but she can see from the lines of tension in his face that he’s not going to make it far and she’s realistic enough to know that there is absolutely no way she will be carrying him.
“Go, Teyla,” Sam chokes out when they hear booted feet nearing the bend in corridor they are hunkered in.
“I won’t-“
“Leave me behind? Yeah, I know that but you have to leave me right at this moment. No use us both being back in those cells.”
Teyla takes a moment to squeeze Sam’s hand and then runs for it, hoping with every fibre of her being that they aren’t orbiting a planet somewhere. When she sees daylight, for a moment she thinks it’s her eyes playing tricks on her. It’s only when she runs over a hill outside of the half-buried hive ship and smacks into something hard, unyielding and not there that she really believes she is out.
Sheppard appears from out of thin air and Teyla almost laughs at the comically surprised look on his face.
“Um, we were just coming to rescue you,” he says, looking almost disappointed that she’s gone and saved herself.
“Sam,” she says as Dean appears behind John’s shoulder. “He’s still in the Hive and something… something’s happening to him. Tell me you brought Carson.”
“We know they’ve done something similar before. Hell, for all we know these are the exact same Wraith that experimented on Teyla’s people,” Carson says, looking around the assembled group. Ronon has a firm grip on Dean’s shoulder because he rightly suspects that he wants nothing more than to tear down the hill and inside the Hive, guns blazing.
“Care to fill me in?” Dean says, looking stricken.
“Basically, it’s never a good idea to let a weapon you’ve developed fall into enemy hands because they will, inevitably, find a way to use it against you,” Rodney explains and Dean flushes an angry red.
“Stop calling him a weapon. Sam is a person.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry but the metaphor stands. From what little we have been able to garner about the Wraith telepathic ability, they can influence humans to a small extent but they can only actually communicate with each other, unless there is some Wraith DNA introduced into the human, as is in Teyla’s case.”
Dean blinks at Teyla and she grimaces. “It is true. It turns out my people were used by the Wraith to see the effect of such a thing. I am descended from those who survived.”
“So why would they do that to Sam?”
“We’re not really sure but it’s possible they want a Wraith hybrid that can communicate directly with humans. Your brother has abilities they would also find useful. There were a people called the Genii who had the right idea. They left a small amount of their population on the surface of their planet play-acting at being primitive while they grew and expanded underground, hiding their technology so the Wraith wouldn’t feel threatened. They may see Sam as a way of stopping that kind of thing.”
Lorne arrived back at that moment with the rest of his team. “Looks like a few guards but no one really watching the outside. I don’t think they were alerted to our arrival.”
“Alright. Well, we’re wasting time. We go in now,” John says, nodding towards the hill.
Dean, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney and John make their way towards the cells while the others lay charges through the ship, Carson staying with the Jumper despite his protests. “Most likely place,” Teyla explains as they make their way through the humid tunnels of the ship.
Just as Dean is passing by one of the first cells, an arm shoots out and grabs him around the throat. “Sam?” Dean chokes as the arm is reeled back towards the cell, Dean being dragged along.
“Dean,” a voice curls out of the darkness, making gooseflesh rise on Dean’s skin. He would know that voice anywhere, it is definitely his brother but also not. He remembers how Sam sounded with Meg squatted inside him, how his voice had an edge to it, barely contained malice and smoke.
“Sammy, it’s me. Ease up,” Dean says, waving Ronon off who has come forward to try and free him.
“Dean…” Sam says again and Dean tries to turn enough to see his brother through the webbing stretching over the doorway but all he can see is Sam’s arm and shoulder. His face is turned away in shadow. “I can’t… too loud. My head…”
“Sammy, you gotta let me go little brother. We’re going to get you out of here but you’ve gotta work with us.”
“Hurts Dean,” Sam says and Dean feels his heart clench because Sam sounds so young.
“I know kiddo, I know. I’m going to fix that.”
The hand disappears from around his throat and Dean steps back a little. He looks around and see that Rodney is already working on what he assumes is the door mechanism. The webbing peels back with a sticky sound that Dean knows will live with him for a long time and he gets an armload of Sam as his brother falls forward through the opening.
Dean lowers them both to the floor, trusting the others to watch for any approaching Wraith and pushes Sam’s hair out of his face, hitching a breath in when he gets a clear look. Sam has slits on either side of his nose and his skin is almost grey. Through his parted lips, Dean can see that his gums are red and sore-looking at it’s almost as if another set of teeth are pushing through which gives him a horrible flashback to the vampires of Earth. Sam grasps weakly at his forearm and Dean feels something sharp there too but doesn’t look.
He doesn’t want to know.
“Alright, can I?” Ronon asks, gesturing. Dean looks up at him for a moment before he realises what Ronon means. Of all of them, Ronon is the only one of a size with Sam and therefore the best chance of carrying him out of there. Dean wants to help, but Sam is out cold, dead weight.
Dean nods and helps Ronon get Sam slung over his shoulder. Ronon grimaces and shifts his weight but shows no other outward sign that Sam is a burden at all.
“Charges set,” Lorne’s voice crackles through the radio.
“We have Winchester,” John replies. “Set for five minutes. We are leaving.”
Dean has never been so glad to hear that in his whole life.
Dean has pretty much decided that, despite the presence of Carson, he hates the infirmary.
He sees Rodney rush by in the hallway and then duck back, poking his head in and raising his eyebrows. “We’re fine,” Dean says, touched at the scientist’s concern. Rodney huffs something that might be the word, good and disappears again. He’d tried explaining to Dean that morning how exciting it was to work on the space ‘gate conversion to be able to install it in Atlantis and Dean had nodded along but hadn’t understood a word in twenty.
“Don’t you have somewhere you’re rather be?” Sam croaks and Dean turns back to see him with eyes slitted open, a vague smile on his face.
“Hey BFG,” he says, rubbing a quick forearm over his eyes. “I’m thinking this whole infirmary gig is for the birds. How about I spring you?”
“I have to stay until I’m done with Carson’s anti-Wraith-botics,” Sam says, sounding exhausted. He tilts a chin towards the infirmary doorway. “Plus, armed guard remember?”
“We can take ‘em,” Dean assures, sketching a little one-two box in the air with his fists and Sam chuckles.
“Are we staying here?” Sam asks, watching Dean scoop Jello into his mouth from Sam’s tray. “I know we’re supposed to be here six months but I figured you’ve probably already applied for a get out of jail free on account of Wraith kidnapping card.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about it, but it’s up to you.”
“How’d you figure?”
“Well, you were the damsel in distress. If you want to leave they can eat our dust.”
“But?”
“What? There’s no but here.”
“There’s always a but with you and it’s not always your head.”
“Har har. I see Carson’s drugs aren’t affecting your sparkling wit.”
“You’re thinking they can help me maybe? They told you something that I don’t know?” Sam asks, trying to catch Dean’s gaze but he is suddenly very interested in the jug of water on Sam’s wheeled table. He turns it around in his hands, tracing the condensation with his fingers.
“I think it’s dangerous for you here but I’m also thinking it’s dangerous for you back home and at least here the bad guys have to get through a shield and a city full of people to get to you.”
“You like it here,” Sam accuses.
“I don’t hate it,” he admits, looking up at Sam through his lashes. He misses the Impala, beer and doing whatever he pleases, but something about the place calls to him, like nothing ever has. He figures it’s probably the freaky gene he’s supposedly carrying around but being surrounded by military is also weirdly comforting. Dean knows if it weren’t for the Hunt, he probably would have ended up in a military arm of some sort.
“We can stay,” Sam says, tugging at the sheet over his chest. “I mean, apparently you have the acto-gene that lets people fly those Puddle Jumpers. I mean, we have to at least stay long enough for you to do that.” Sam grins and raises an eyebrow. “I’m thinking it’s going to take at least a few months for you to talk Colonel Sheppard into letting you.”
“Okay, but no getting kidnapped, at least without me.”
“Agreed,” Sam says. His smile grows wider when he notices Teyla, Ronon and John standing in the doorway.
“How you doin’, stretch?” John asks.