New Fic: Back from the Well - Part Four

[xanthefic]

Back from the Well
Part Four
By Xanthe

The following day Carson allowed him a visitor and Rodney insisted on being allowed to sit up in the chair by the fire in order to receive her. He felt strangely nervous and hoped he didn't look too much like a freak show but the minute the door opened and Elizabeth stepped inside he knew he needn't have worried. Elizabeth had changed too; her wavy hair had been cut into a severe crop, and, like all of them, she had lost weight. Already very slim, she was now as frail as Rodney, and he didn't like the lines of pain he saw etched on her face, or the wisps of silver in her hair. He got up, clutching his blanket around his shoulders, and walked towards her, slowly, carefully, anxious not to embarrass himself by keeling over – he still wasn't very steady on his feet. She wasn't either – he saw that she was walking with a stick and limping heavily on her right leg. He heard the sad sigh escape from his lips and felt a glimmer of the anger that he knew was consuming John right now. This was Elizabeth, damnit! She was someone he respected, someone he was fond of, and someone he utterly believed in as a leader. What had they done to her? She stepped forward carefully, leaning on her stick, and they both faltered into the centre of the room and met each other halfway.

"Rodney." She stood there, gazing at him, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"Elizabeth." He stood there too, smiling inanely. There didn't seem to be any need for words. He made no move – something about her reminded him of a startled gazelle and she seemed very fragile to him in a way that he'd never felt about her before. They gazed at each other for a long time, taking in every new, pain-etched line, desperately searching for every familiar feature, their eyes devouring each other. Her gaze settled briefly on the raw, sore skin on his neck where his collar had been, and travelled down to his bandaged hand before rising once more to his eyes, and drinking up everything that was in them. He didn't turn away, or deflect her scrutiny with a wisecrack, but just stood there, and allowed her to look – allowed her to see. Then he, in turn, looked her up and down, taking in her twisted leg and the sadness in her eyes, and he wanted very much to take her in his arms and hug her, but something stopped him; something about the way she carried herself, which made him very wary about making any sudden movements or crowding her out. His arm rose a little towards her but he was careful to keep his distance. She stood there for a long time, just gazing, and then, finally, she hobbled a little closer to him, closing the gap between them, and she very carefully, very slowly, put her arms around his neck, and hugged him close. He slid his arms around her frail body and breathed in the scent of her hair, and was just very, very glad that she was still alive. She and he went back a long way and he was extremely fond of her. She finally released him and he stepped back and gestured with his hand to the seats in front of the unlit fire. She limped towards them and sat down with a sigh.

"I'm so glad you're alive," she told him. "When John rode in with you a couple of days ago we could hardly believe he'd finally found you. He's been like a man possessed. He's obsessed with getting us all back, but you were his special hope and I know that each time he came home without you he was devastated. Thank god he finally found you."

"I'm glad you're alive too," Rodney told her, never taking his eyes off her pinched, pointed face. "Does your leg give you much pain?"

"It'll be fine although I think I'll always need this." She gestured towards the cane. "But I'm really very lucky. Rodney – shall we not talk of what was done to us?" she asked, and he noticed the beseeching look in her eyes. She had read in him some of what she had suffered herself, and he knew that she, like him, was tired of all the pain, and longed for their relationship to be the same as it had been before.

"That sounds fine to me," he told her easily. "John has gone to get Radek. I've been with him for the past few months."

"Yes. Carson told me." She smiled, and nodded. "Thank god for Carson. Without him…" She shook her head and gazed at the blackened logs lying in the fire grate.

"Yes. He's a hero in his own quiet way," Rodney nodded. "Elizabeth…last night I overheard Carson and John talking. They spoke about some kind of task they want me to do. Do you know anything about it? I'd ask them myself but I know they won't tell me and Carson will only scold me for eavesdropping."

She raised a thin hand and gathered her shirt more closely around her throat. "Yes, Rodney, I do know about it," she said quietly. "But you weren't meant to overhear that and Carson would be very angry with me if I said anything to you yet."

"But there is something to hope for?" Rodney asked, feeling tired even from this brief conversation.

"There's always something to hope for," Elizabeth replied.

They sat and talked for a little while longer, about everything and nothing, and neither of them said where they'd been since they last saw each other, or what had happened to them, but both of them knew all the same.

A couple of days after that, Carson allowed him to get dressed and helped him to walk around the house. The place was huge and Rodney was suitably impressed by the big rooms, which were mainly stuffed full of mattresses to accommodate all their people. Now Rodney felt grateful that he got to share a room with Carson and John and didn't have to bed down with so many others; privacy had been something he'd missed during his months as a slave. The house also had a laundry room, a library, several large, airy living rooms that looked out onto the courtyard and a massive stable block.

"I always wanted to marry a man of substance," Rodney said approvingly, after having received the full guided tour.

"Aye, well you've yet to get the ring on my finger," Carson replied with a grin.

"Are you playing hard to get?" Rodney asked suspiciously.

"It's a bit late for that I think," Carson laughed, and he pressed a kiss to Rodney's cheek. They ended up in the large, flag-stoned kitchen, where a dozen or so people were sitting around a big wooden table, chatting as they prepared food. Rodney recognized some familiar faces and they all waved and greeted him by name. It felt almost like being home. Almost. "I can help with the food," Rodney said. "I've had a lot of practice peeling vegetables if that's any use."

"When your hand is better," Carson told him. "Maybe when you're stronger you can help feed the horses, or draw water from the well."

"Not the well. I'd prefer the horses," Rodney murmured, and Carson looked at him sharply but Rodney avoided his gaze.

~*~

As each day passed they both worried more and more about John. Rodney was now well enough to walk around the house unaided. His back drove him insane with itching and Carson had taken to making him wear gloves in bed so he wouldn't scratch the healing scabs. He was so irritable about it that Carson boiled him up some special lotion which smelled disgusting but did take the edge off the itching at least. His fingers were healing well; they ached every now and then, but at least they were on the mend, thanks to Carson's careful daily examinations.

Finally, on the afternoon of the fifth day, there was a clattering of hoof beats and several horses galloped into the courtyard. Rodney was immediately swept up in the throng of Atlanteans running out to help with the horses and to see who, if anyone, had been brought back to safety. Rodney pushed his way through the crowd anxiously to John's horse, and grabbed the bridle with his good hand. There was a bundle of rags slung on the saddle in front of John, and for one heart-stopping moment Rodney thought that Radek was dead, and John had merely brought back the corpse, but then John was yelling for Carson and handing the bundle of rags carefully down to eager, waiting hands. Rodney took a step back as John dismounted and then John lifted Radek as if he barely weighed a thing, which was probably close to the truth, and made for the stone stairs into the house at a run, Carson close behind. Rodney followed them, his heart in his mouth. What he could see of Radek didn't look good; the other man was in an even worse condition than when he'd left and barely looked as if he was breathing. John placed Radek on the bed, and then walked back towards the door.

"Are you okay?" Rodney stopped him, trying to peer under the black gauze to see the expression in John's eyes. John's black clothes were dusty and streaked with what looked suspiciously like blood. Lots of blood.

"I'm fine. We got Katie too but she's not in bad shape. Well, physically at least. She was able to ride," John said curtly.

"Radek?"

"Hanging on by a thread." John didn't say anything more, just left the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he seemed to do a lot these days.

"Can I help?" Rodney asked Carson, edging over to the bed and gazing at the grey face peering out from the bundle of rags. Radek moaned and muttered something and his eyes opened and closed again, then opened once more and gazed blankly up at Rodney.

"Radek – it's me, Rodney," he said, sitting down on the side of the bed and taking Radek's hand in his. "He can't see very well without his glasses," Rodney explained to Carson. Radek squeezed his hand and gave him what could have been a smile or a grimace.

"Help me get him undressed," Carson said and between them they quickly stripped Radek out of the rags, revealing his painfully thin body, the ribs protruding. Radek's breathing was coming in wheezy gasps and Carson glanced around. "Damn it where's John?" he asked. "I need to know how much of that medication he gave Radek and when."

"I'll go and find out," Rodney said. He found John in the courtyard by the well. He'd stripped off his shirt and turban and was standing there bare-chested, ladling cool water over his head. Rodney gazed at him, horrified, taking in the streaks of dried blood that were liberally streaked all over his lover's naked chest. "What happened?" he asked, hoping that none of the blood was John's. It didn't appear to be.

"We got into a bit of a fight." John gave a grim smile. "I was hoping to steal Radek away in the night but we made too much noise and one of the overseers came to investigate. So I had to kill him." He didn't look too upset by that.

"Was he a big guy – long red braid?" Rodney asked hopefully.

"No." John squinted at him meaningfully through a haze of water. "But I got that one later on, out by the well. Why? Was he the one?" His body was taut as he stared at Rodney and they both knew what he was referring to.

"He was the worst one," Rodney replied quietly.

"Then I'm glad it was me who killed him," John said in a low, fierce voice. "After we killed the first overseer, Ronon grabbed Radek and got him onto one of the horses, but some of the other overseers came looking for the first guy and we had a fight on our hands. That big guy – he was a coward. He took one look at us and turned tail and ran. I didn't want him going to wake up the guards at the house so I chased him down outside and put my sword through that big gut of his."

Rodney thought that maybe he should feel something but to be honest he just felt numb.

"What about the chief overseer? The one who broke my fingers and whipped me?" he asked, morbidly fascinated despite himself. "Tall, thin guy, bald, scar on his chin like someone broke a bottle and gashed him with it?"

"We got him too." John gave a very satisfied smile. "Lorne took him out. He wasn't so brave when he was dealing with armed soldiers and not half-starved slaves."

"Did any of our people get hurt?" Rodney asked.

"Just cuts and bruises. I sent Teyla up to the house to find Katie – I thought that would be the hard part but Teyla was lucky. Ran across her and managed to get her out without anyone noticing. We might have some trouble though. That place belonged to someone pretty high caste, and if they trace the raid to us then we'll have a battle on our hands."

"Do you think they knew who you were?"

"No." John shook his head. "But they might make enquiries and we haven't exactly been living very peacefully, what with one thing and another, so it won't take them long to put two and two together if they really try."

He reached for a towel and rubbed his long, wet hair and Rodney's heart sank. That didn't sound good.

"Oh – Carson wants to know what medicine you gave Radek," Rodney said, clicking his fingers, suddenly remembering.

"I've already sent Teyla up to see him. She was in charge of that. She can tell him," John said shortly.

"Where the hell are you going?" Rodney asked, as John stalked off, out of the courtyard, in the direction of the street.

"I just need a couple of hours by myself," John told him curtly. "I'll be back."

Rodney watched him go, feeling a rising tide of panic in his stomach. He was glad they'd got Radek back, but something bad was happening to John and he didn't have the first idea how to handle it. He was suddenly aware of Elizabeth's gaze on him, from across the courtyard, and he lifted his head to look at her. They shared a knowing glance and he sighed. She knew they had a problem brewing here too, but she didn't know what to do about it either. Besides, right now maybe it didn't suit them to deal with it; the brutal truth was that at this moment in time John was more use to them in his current persona of rabid rottweiler. Nobody liked seeing him like this, but everyone was acutely aware that he was doing a damn fine job of rescuing people and keeping them all safe.

Rodney gave another sigh and then turned back to the house to find out how Radek was doing.

~*~

Radek was weak but he had fewer injuries than Rodney had had when he'd been brought in. His main problem was malnutrition and his asthma and once Carson had treated the latter and he got some food down him he soon began to improve. Within two days he was sitting up in bed, and within 3 he was playing the prime number game with Rodney, just for something to keep their minds occupied – and, if he was honest, Rodney was grateful to have something to distract them from actual conversation. He was very glad that Radek was alive and would soon be better, but the memory of their shared misery out by the well back at the plantation was always at the forefront of his mind whenever he looked at the scientist. Neither of them spoke about the plantation, and Rodney wondered if they ever would – and whether it would always hang there, forever between them, if they didn't. Radek had another frequent visitor; Katie Brown had been very concerned about Radek during their journey back and their shared experience of life on the plantation, however different their respective suffering had been, had given them some kind of bond, so she spent a lot of time at Radek's bedside.

The following day, Rodney was called to a meeting of the senior staff – the first he'd attended since arriving. It was almost like the old days, back in the control room on Atlantis, if you could discount the fact that Elizabeth's skin was as pale and thin as paper, John looked like some kind of exotic alien with braided hair and a deep scar over one eye, and Rodney himself was three sizes smaller than he had been. Only Carson seemed unchanged in their midst but Rodney wondered if even that was an illusion. Yes, Carson hadn't suffered physically the way he or Elizabeth had suffered, but there was something about the invisible weight that Carson seemed to be carrying around on his shoulders that made Rodney as uneasy about the doctor as he was about his other lover.

"Rodney, I know Carson would like to give you a few more days before asking you this, but there's something we need you to do and I don't think we can wait any longer," Elizabeth told him earnestly.

"If I can help then I will, of course," Rodney said quickly. "But I have no idea what use I can be. I'm a physicist, and of course, also a mechanical engineering genius, but there's no technology of any kind on this planet, so I don't see what…"

"That's not exactly true," John interrupted, and Rodney turned to gaze at him in surprise.

"All we need is a distress signal, Rodney," Elizabeth said softly. "The Daedalus was making its way back from Earth to Atlantis when we were captured so she has to be out there somewhere. I have no doubt that Colonel Caldwell has been looking for us ever since we were taken but with no clue as to where we were sent…it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"I can't make a distress signal without some kind of radio transmission," Rodney said. "Certainly not one that's strong enough to reach a ship that could be several hundred light years away. Even if I could construct a rudimentary radio signal from the naturally occurring materials on the planet, it could take several years to reach the Daedalus."

"We need something faster than that," John told him. "Things are looking ugly out there. The Karkarans didn't like Carson's owner handing him this house and all this money in the first place and we haven't exactly kept our heads down and avoided trouble since then. There's a buzz about us – and if those people from the plantation start making enquiries then it won't be long before they come knocking on our door."

"I still don't see how you expect me to construct a distress signal out of nothing," Rodney said.

"Technology is against the law, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist," Carson told him, leaning forward in his seat. "There's a gate on this world, Rodney, and the bandits go to and fro, bringing in new slaves and other saleable commodities. Some other stuff has to get through – however zealous the authorities are in tracking it down."

"Have you found something?" Rodney asked eagerly.

"Yes. Lots of things." John got up, retrieved a wooden box from the corner of the room, and dumped it in front of Rodney. Rodney glanced inside eagerly – and then his heart sank. In the box were dozens of small items of machinery, ranging from a couple of old watches to what looked like half a naqada generator; there was even a piece of an Ancient energy cell but none of them were whole, or working, and there wasn't a single item that looked like it could generate a distress signal.

"We've had a team of people out looking for this kind of stuff and we've thrown anything we could find in here," Elizabeth told him. "Do you think you can do anything with it?"

Rodney glanced up, his gaze travelling from face to face, taking in the expectant, hopeful looks. He didn't want to be the one to take that hope away but realistically speaking he didn't see how he could construct anything useful from what they'd given him.

"I may be a genius but this is just a box of random objects," he told them in clipped tones, angry that they were placing the burden of all this hope on him when it was so very unlikely he'd be able to do anything with what he'd been given.

"Yeah, but like you said, you're a genius," John told him. "If ever we needed you to live up to that moniker it's now, Rodney."

Rodney took another look at the box and gave a deep sigh.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do," he muttered. Everyone smiled and sat back in their seats in relief, as if he'd already constructed a signal and the Daedalus was, even as he spoke, hovering overhead on a rescue mission. Only Rodney knew just how unlikely it was that this plan would work. He took the box all the same, and stomped off to find a quiet corner to examine it in more detail.

The box was full of a delightful assortment of oddments but there was nothing that Rodney could see that would create a powerful enough distress signal to alert the Daedalus. He stared at the box glumly for two days, fiddling endlessly with the various bits and pieces within, but drew a blank. On the night of the second day, Carson came looking for him.

"Are you coming to bed, Rodney?" he asked. "I'm worried about you. You've been looking into that box for 36 hours solid and you're still not completely better. I don't want you having a relapse."

"I'm fine," Rodney muttered. "Well, you know, apart from being asked to work miracles."

"It's a bit like turning water into wine then I take it?" Carson sighed, placing two firm hands on Rodney's neck and rubbing away some of the tension.

"Worse," Rodney sighed. "Most of these things aren't even from the same planet so there's no consistent energy source even if I could get something working, which I can't. They're all stone dead."

"You need some rest," Carson said, depositing a kiss on his head. "Maybe inspiration will strike in the morning. I don't want you sitting up for another night puzzling about this, Rodney."

"John said we might not have much time…" Rodney began.

"Aye, well, John's so used to pushing himself too fast, too far, that sometimes he forgets and does it to those around him too. We don't want you having a relapse, Rodney; you're our only hope."

"Ah, you make a fine Princess Leia," Rodney said, patting Carson's hand affectionately. "I've never exactly seen myself as Obi Wan Kenobi – I lack a certain zen-like Jedi quality - but I'm very flattered to be considered anyone's 'only hope'. If only I could live up to the expectation."

"Will you come to bed?" Carson urged.

"In a minute. I'm not done thinking," Rodney replied, still gazing at the contents of the box. Carson sighed.

"I knew this would happen the minute we showed you this stuff," he groused. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," Rodney lied, waving a casual hand in Carson's direction as the other man left the room.

He removed all the contents of the box and gazed at them again, then started tinkering with them once more. It wasn't easy with only one good hand but he managed to get a faint glow out of the Ancient energy cell. Not that it was much use but at least there was a glimmer of life left in it. If only he could somehow rig up the naqada generator to some kind of elementary radio signal, and use the energy cell to power it…Rodney stood up excitedly. "That could work," he said to himself, throwing all the items back in the box and grabbing it. He ran up the stairs to their bedroom, raced over to the bed, and grabbed Carson roughly by the shoulder.

"Damn it, Rodney, what time is it?" the doctor growled.

"Time? I don't know. Who cares? Morning – I heard a cock crow a little while ago. Anyway, I need Zelenka. Can I have him?"

"What?" Carson blinked blearily.

"He's got two good hands and he's the only one who'll understand what I want to do with this stuff."

"He's been very ill, Rodney," Carson said uncertainly.

"Yes, yes, I know but he can stay in bed. I'm not asking him to go out and do a full day's work in the fields for god's sake! I just want him to follow my instructions so I can see if I can rig something up here."

"All right – in the morning," Carson told him firmly. Rodney pouted. "Why don't you come to bed in the meantime?" Carson asked, trying to pull him down onto the warm sheets but Rodney wasn't having any of it.

"I'll see what I can do until he wakes up," he said, grabbing his box and running back downstairs again. Damn, but it felt good to be using his brain again after so many months of enforced manual labour!

Rodney bounced into Radek's room three hours later, full of energy. The other scientist was eager to help, despite Carson's misgivings, and Rodney outlined what he had in mind.

"I need your hands, Radek," Rodney told him.

"I can't see very well," Radek pointed out.

"Well I can see and you have two good hands so between us we'll figure something out," Rodney beamed. "Do you understand what I want to do?"

"Yes…but is this all there is to work with?" Radek gazed at the contents of the box with a miserable expression on his face.

"I know – that's what I thought - but if we can just use what's left of the energy in that power cell…"

"I suppose it might work," Radek said uncertainly. "If anyone can make it work it's you, Rodney."

"Well, that's very true," Rodney hummed happily to himself.

They worked for the best part of the morning, until Carson threw him out telling him that Radek had to rest and that it would be a good idea if Rodney rested as well, although he didn't actually expect him to. They resumed later in the afternoon. In the evening, Rodney demanded that everyone went out and tried to find something that he could use for an antenna and by nightfall Dr Simpson had returned with a makeshift piece of very fine copper that she'd stolen from the local blacksmith that would do. By midday the next day, Rodney had something that he thought might be halfway workable and he called the others into the meeting room to show them.

"It's not very sophisticated," he told them, noting their faces as they looked at the distinctly unpromising device, held together in places by strips of rinula, and generally speaking looking extremely rickety. "But I think it might work. I can't programme in the Atlantis command codes, so Colonel Caldwell won't actually know it's us, even if he is out there looking for us still after all this time, but I did do something extremely clever with the signal, so it only resonates on an Earth type frequency. That should clue him in. If this does work and if he is out there then he should pick it up immediately – and with the Daedalus's hyperdrive that would mean that he could, theoretically, be in orbit within a few days." Rodney didn't actually have any expectation that would be the case, but it was certainly the best case scenario.

"That sounds promising," Elizabeth said, leaning forward in her chair.

"Of course he wouldn't be able to contact us to let us know he's here as we have no communications facility but he should be able to zero in on the signal," Rodney shrugged.

"Well, we don't have any other options so…let's go ahead." Elizabeth waved her hand.

"Okay then." Rodney tightened a couple of connections and the energy cell flared feebly into life. Rodney sat back expectantly.

"Is that it?" John made a face.

"Were you expecting it to get up and dance around the room, Colonel?" Rodney snapped. "It works doesn't it?"

"How do we know?" John asked.

"Well, that's just it - we don't exactly," Rodney shrugged. "I mean, I think it's transmitting but I don't have a receiver so it could just be lit up a pretty colour and doing absolutely nothing."

"Great." John rubbed his hands over his forehead wearily.

"Hey – this is as good as it gets!" Rodney protested. "You didn't exactly give me a lot to play with here."

"Okay, okay." Elizabeth raised her hands. "Rodney – thank you," she said with a nod in his direction. "What do we do now?"

"Just wait." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and glared at John. "And hope," he added.


~*~

As it turned out, their situation was just as desperate as John had feared. A few days later a posse of black-clad warriors turned up on their doorstep. John went out to speak to them, but returned grim-faced.

"They're not happy," he said, wrinkling his forehead in one of those ironic frowns of his that led Rodney to believe that 'not happy' was something of an understatement. "They think we stole a couple of slaves from them a week ago and killed a few of their overseers. They requested that we let them in so they could check out our house to see if we have Katie."

"What did you tell them?" Elizabeth asked.

"I told them where they could shove their request and now they're going to fetch some friends and then they're coming back to check the house anyway, with or without our permission."

Rodney clenched his fists. He'd been safe for only a couple of weeks, and now he feared that would be taken away from him and he'd be sent back into slavery. He wasn't honestly sure he could bear that again, not after being so recently reunited with the two people he loved most in the world. And he knew that he would rather die than go back to that plantation. Why couldn't they have had longer to bask in the peace and safety of this home Carson had made for them here? Why did it all have to end so soon? Hadn't they all suffered enough?

"What should we do?" Elizabeth asked. "We could leave."

"No. We have nowhere to run to and we'll be worse off out in the open. We'll be better off trying to defend the house. I've been through it with Teyla, Ronon and Lorne – we thought this might happen and we have a plan."

Rodney glanced at Carson, remembering what he'd told him about how John felt about failing to defend Atlantis. It was clear that John wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

They spent the next few hours preparing for the imminent attack. John assigned Rodney and Radek to the room with the feebly pulsing distress beacon while the marines took the prime defensive positions in the main part of the house.

"Why can't I be out there with you and Carson?" Rodney protested. "I've been useful in battles before."

"I know. When you were fit," John replied.

"I'm fine – and I'm a much better fighter than Carson. Why are you allowing him out there?"

John rolled his eyes. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he's a doctor and if this gets ugly, which it almost certainly will, then we might end up having wounded?" he suggested.

"Ah. Yes. Okay," Rodney acknowledged. "But what do we do if they get in here?" Rodney asked John anxiously, sitting down at the table next to the distress beacon, along with a small group of other Atlanteans, mainly scientists. "Shouldn't you…you know…give us swords or something?"

John looked at him steadily for a moment. "Would you know how to use them?" he asked finally.

"Well, no…" Rodney admitted.

"Well then. We'll save the knives for people who will actually use them to fight with," John said.

"But if they get in here we'll…" Rodney began.

"Rodney – if they get in here then it's all over," John told him fiercely. "We'll have lost. The only way they're getting round me, and Ronon, and Teyla, and Lorne, and Miller is if we're dead, and if we're dead then you are too."

Rodney stared at him, shocked. John's eyes were fierce, the left one burning beneath the scarred flesh and Rodney actually felt a little bit afraid of him.

"Here." John threw a knife onto the table and it gave a little zing as it came to rest, half-embedded in the wood. "If they get in here, use it - any way you can." Rodney glanced from the knife back to John, understanding what he meant. He sat down at the table next to Radek, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Can we win?" he asked softly as John made to leave the room. John paused.

"We won't be slaves again, Rodney," he said firmly. "If we don't win, then we'll die fighting them. The only way any Karkaran gets his hands on any of my people again is if I'm dead."

And then he was gone. Rodney gazed silently at Radek, who was mumbling something softly under his breath in Czech. Katie Brown was sitting next to him, her face strained and her large eyes dark with distress; Radek took her hand and squeezed it sympathetically. Dr Biro and Dr Simpson were seated across the table, exchanging tense glances. Outside, Rodney heard hooves pounding in the street and there was a lot of shouting going on. He wished that he was with John and Carson. After a little while the shouting gave way to the sound of sword on sword and the noise of battle grew closer and closer, until he could hear clanging just down the hallway. Rodney couldn't bear it any longer and got to his feet. There was no way he was going to just sit here while John and Carson were out there, fighting to save their lives. He grabbed the knife from the table and ran towards the door, his arm outstretched…when suddenly he wasn't in that stone room any more, he was running full pelt into a naked Asgard, and the walls around him were humming.

"What the hell…?" He came to a skidding halt, glanced around, and came face to face with Colonel Caldwell. "Oh thank god!" he cried, feeling the deck of the Daedalus beneath his feet. The knife dropped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. "Oh my god! This is it. This is the best case scenario – and that *never* usually happens!"

"Dr McKay?" Rodney saw the shock at his gaunt appearance reflected back in Caldwell's eyes. "We got your signal – no way of making out individual life signs so we thought we'd just beam up everyone closest to it." Rodney glanced around and saw Radek, Katie and the others who had been in the room with him, all looking wide-eyed and disoriented by the sudden change in their circumstances.

"Everyone within a 3000 square metre radius," Rodney screamed. "Do it! Now!"

~*~

A ragged cheer broke out from the Atlanteans as they realized they were safe and the fighting stopped immediately everyone was beamed into the Daedalus's flight hangar. The Karkarans who had been caught up in the sweep looked around, bemused and seriously scared by their sudden transportation onto the spaceship. There was chaos for awhile but Colonel Caldwell swiftly got a grip on the situation and returned the Karkarans back to where they'd come from, while Carson and the doctor aboard the Daedalus set about tending to those Atlanteans who had been injured during the skirmish. Rodney was relieved to find that John had escaped unscathed save for a minor cut to his arm. Caldwell set about assigning quarters to the rescued Atlanteans, who were so numerous they had to bed down several to a room, before ensconcing himself in a private meeting room with Elizabeth for an extremely long chat.

It turned out that Caldwell had been looking for them for several months after returning from Earth to find Atlantis in the hands of the Karkarans. He had been combing the Pegasus galaxy for them ever since, to his credit, despite the increasingly less politely worded requests from Earth that maybe it was time to give up. He had been back to Atlantis a couple of times as well but each time the Karkarans had directed enough firepower in his general direction to ensure he kept his distance - but now John was adamant that he take them there.

"The Karkarans have the city, Colonel Sheppard, and they're perfectly capable of defending it," Caldwell growled at him. "We nearly got shot down last time we approached."

"Well this time we'll be more careful," John replied. "Look, it's been months since you were last there – they might have got lazy, or careless. It's worth a shot."

Caldwell had allowed himself to be persuaded in the face of John's vehemence and they set a course for Atlantis.

Everything changed once they were on the Daedalus; they were all swept up in the bustle of so many people sharing a ship whose facilities were stretched to the limit. Rodney didn't see either of his lovers alone during the entire journey because they were bunking down with so many other people. They were all kept busy in any case – John in briefing and preparing Caldwell's best men for an assault to re-take Atlantis, Carson with the injured from the skirmish back on Karkara, and Rodney in helping the crew of the Daedalus. It felt strange to be dealing with technology again after so many months of hard physical labour and Rodney felt an odd sense of dislocation as he worked. People kept asking him so many questions and it was hard to get his brain into gear to answer them.

More than anything, Rodney missed the quiet time he'd spent with his lovers in the big house on Karkara. He was glad to leave the planet itself far behind but he had experienced ten months of hell followed by two weeks of relative peace and quiet and now everything had changed once more and there had been no time to adjust back to being Dr Rodney McKay after having been a nameless slave for so long. He felt like he was winging it – struggling to keep up as the pace of events outstripped him - and he wished he could at least have the comfort of falling into bed with his lovers at night. He missed their kisses and little touches of affection; he missed the quiet conversations he'd had with Carson, and most of all he missed having John hold him while they slept.

Now he shared a small room with 9 people, taking it in turns to use the bathroom at night, and while the accommodation was certainly a hell of a lot better than it had been on the plantation, it unsettled Rodney. He got tired easily, his body ached, he was plagued by minor nagging headaches and his back was still tender; nobody was making any concessions to his physical condition but Carson was rushed off his feet and everyone was stressed out so there didn't seem to be any point mentioning it. It was bad enough that Carson deemed it necessary to do a full blood work and physical exam on everyone who'd been on Karkara, looking for god knew what kind of alien virus, and, which he'd muttered quickly under his breath without looking at Rodney while he'd drawn a syringe full of his blood, 'sexually transmitted diseases'. Rodney was just relieved to be told that the tests had all come back negative – it was one less thing to worry about.

A few days after leaving Karkara, the Atlantean homeworld loomed into view. Caldwell took a cautious route in towards the city, expecting the Daedalus to take fire as it had the last time, but this time their approach was surprisingly easy and nobody challenged them.

"Is the shield up over the city?" John asked, gazing over Rodney's shoulder. Rodney shot him a look; John was still dressed in the garb of a Karkaran warrior – most of them were still in their Karkaran clothes, including Rodney, because there weren't enough uniforms to go around, but Rodney wasn't entirely sure that John still needed to wear the Karkaran braid and keep that sharp knife hanging from his belt.

"No," he replied, straightening up, his back protesting a little; the scar tissue was very sensitive and often felt sore when he was hunched in one position for too long.

"Good. Then we can transport straight down there," John said grimly, striding away. Rodney gazed after him helplessly, knowing that there was nothing he could say to dissuade his lover from going into this unevenly matched fight. John was like a man possessed; he was obsessed with finding the Karkarans who had taken Atlantis in the first place and making them pay for what they'd done to his people.

John took with him his usual team of Ronon, Teyla, and Lorne, together with several of Colonel Caldwell's best men in the advance guard that beamed down to the lower levels of the city. His plan was to make a stealth attack, taking the Karkarans by surprise, the way they'd taken him by surprise ten months or so previously. Rodney and Carson stood on the bridge of the Daedalus, Rodney anxiously nibbling on his thumbnail while they waited to hear from the attack team, and ten minutes later John's voice came over the radio, nearly giving Rodney a heart attack from sheer relief that his lover was still alive.

"We have the control room," he said, and his voice sounded strange, distant and…almost cheated? "There's nobody here," he added. "The city is empty. You can all come home."

End of Part Four

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Back from the Well - Part Five