sga_flashfic | Blood Challenge: Survivors, by Barkeep

Title: Survivors
Author: Barkeep
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Their dreams that drip with murder...
Warning: Very, very, very bleak

Survivors
No doubt they'll soon get well; the shock and strain
Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk.
Of course they're 'longing to go out again,' —
These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk.
They'll soon forget their haunted nights; their cowed
Subjection to the ghosts of friends who died,—
Their dreams that drip with murder; and they'll be proud
Of glorious war that shatter'd all their pride...
Men who went out to battle, grim and glad;
Children, with eyes that hate you, broken and mad.
--Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)

##

Sheppard swore as Teyla’s stick connected with his wrist. He shook off her concern and bent to retrieve his own weapon when his radio crackled to life. “Major, we’ve got an unscheduled offworld activation.” Elizabeth’s voice was tightly controlled but John could hear the hope and fear thrumming beneath her words.

“I’m on my way.” Two pairs of sticks fell to the ground unnoticed as Sheppard ran for the control room with Teyla on his heels.

Elizabeth looked up as John skidded to a halt next to her. “It’s Ford’s IDC.”

“What are you waiting for? Open the shield!”

“Major, they’ve been in enemy hands for over a week.”

He held her gaze steadily but his knuckles were white where he gripped the console. “Open the shield.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and then turned to the young lieutenant manning the controls. “Do it.” The words were barely out of her mouth before John was rushing to the floor of the room, barking orders at the security team and drawing his own weapon.

Seconds later two familiar figures stumbled through the wormhole and, for a brief moment, Major Sheppard’s world was right again.

##

John ducked as a shot hit the tree over his head. He and Teyla were headed for the gate at a dead run, ducking and weaving between the trees. The soldiers chasing them possessed some of the most advanced weaponry he’d seen since they had arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy. He paused to fire a few shots at their pursuers when Ford’s voice came over the radio.

“Sir, we’ve got a problem.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Lieutenant.” John ground out as he squeezed off a few rounds and then took off running again.

Ford’s voice was strained. “We’ve been cut off from the gate. We’re taking fire from multiple positions.”

John swore and ran through scenarios in his head. They were out manned, outgunned and outflanked. He turned, spraying bullets to cover Teyla as she began dialing the gate for Atlantis. “Ford, Rodney, we’re going for reinforcements. We’ll be right back. Keep your heads down.”

If they responded John couldn’t hear them through the sound of weapons fire. He grimaced and dove through the wormhole after Teyla, sparing one last glance toward their position. Oh shit, he thought just before his head hit the floor in the Atlantis gateroom, they’ve got ships.

##

As soon as the wormhole disengaged John was there at their sides. With an eerie sense of calm, he took Ford’s hand from Rodney’s shoulder, verbally reassuring the lieutenant when he flinched violently. Dimly he heard Elizabeth’s urgent voice calling Carson to the control room as he helped both men sit down. He stayed between them, a hand on each man’s shoulder, trying not to notice the blood dripping from Rodney’s palms or the sunken patches in Ford’s face where his eyes used to be.

The medical team arrived in record time. John stayed where he was as Carson knelt beside Ford and assessed the damage efficiently, touching the young man’s face with gentle hands. Passing Ford’s care to another doctor, Carson reached out for Rodney before snatching his hands back as if they’d been burned. With a sense of detachment, John reached down, retrieved his knife and swiftly cut the cord of the obscene necklace that dangled from Rodney’s neck. John almost made it to the balcony before he threw up.

##

“He didn’t talk until they cut off the third one. Then he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. You know how McKay gets…” Ford trailed off, his voice thick with sorrow and tears that he would never have a chance to shed. Elizabeth stoked his hand and did her best not to look at the empty sockets that now dominated his face. John, on the other hand, never looked away.

“It must have been around the sixth or seventh one when they cut out his tongue.” Ford’s voice shook, his hand gripping Elizabeth’s tightly. “There was so much blood. I never thought…” the young man paused and turned his head minutely towards Sheppard. “Part of me was glad.” He swallowed hard and ducked his head, “I just didn’t want to listen to him beg anymore.”

##

John sat on the balcony, the midday sun beating against the back of his neck. It was starting to get hot and he knew he should go. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he patted Rodney’s leg one last time and stood, careful to avoid the pool of blood behind him. He had wondered at the time why they’d only taken nine of Rodney’s fingers. Now he knew. They left him with a thumb so he could still pull the trigger.

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terrie01.livejournal.com

Um, eep? Really, I can't say more than that right now. *shudder*

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