by Arnie
Lifting his hands, he pressed the base of his palms into his eyes, trying to force out the memory of Sumner, on his knees, an old man gasping for breath as the red-haired bitch of a Wraith tortured him.
'Jesus.'
His stomach cramped, and John bolted into the bathroom and brought up the champagne Doctor Weir had given him.
Had Sumner been able to see him? Had Sumner known that John was there, P-90 pressed to his shoulder as he brought his sights to bear upon his commanding officer's chest?
Swallowing heavily, John straightened, then bent over the sink, washing his mouth out. He'd made the right decision; he knew that. The soldier had been in the hands of the enemy, irretrievable. Leaving him to be tortured until he cracked and gave up the location of Earth had been impossible. Sumner himself would have done the same thing and locked it away in the box named 'duty'. It had been the right - the only - thing to do. Doctor Weir knew it. Ford knew it. Everyone knew it.
John closed his eyes again. Now all he had to do was convince himself of it.
A chime sounded and John's head jerked up, looking around quickly. What now?
It sounded again, and he followed the noise into his room. Alarm clock? He didn't have one - not one that sounded like that anyway.
"Sheppard?"
That sounded like McKay. In the corridor. John's eyebrows rose. He had a doorbell?
The chime sounded again, followed by some thuds on the door. John sighed and opened the door. McKay had proven himself to be impatient while in McMurdo and the SGC - at least that hadn't changed in a strange galaxy.
"Hey, there you are." McKay bounced into the room, apparently not at all dismayed at being alone with the guy who'd killed his commanding officer. "We wondered where you went to." John didn't get time to answer as McKay continued, "Were you going to bed?"
John shook his head. "No, I was just... Did you want something?"
"Oh yeah! The party's continuing in the science lab - we have a science lab!" McKay practically sing-songed that part, his blue eyes gleaming. They were brighter than Sumner's bleary gaze seconds before his death. "So if you wanna join us...."
Blinking the memory away, John made himself sound casual. "Well, I was just...." 'Throwing up in the bathroom.'
As if he'd heard the thought, McKay nodded. "Yeah, you must be tired." Despite his agreement, he wasn't leaving. Finally, he added, "It's been a long day."
"Yeah." Long was the least of the words John would used to describe that day.
"I just figured..." John blinked at the compassion he saw before McKay's gaze slid away. "Well, if you wanna join us, we're in the lab."
'Hell, who needed to sit alone brooding anyway?' "I guess I could do with a drink." 'Or five.'
"Well, the champagne's gone, but Radek has this rotgut he brewed up." McKay shrugged. "Everyone seems to be enjoying it."
"Radek?" John questioned. He knew he'd get to know them all eventually, but he couldn't place a Radek yet.
"Czech guy. Glasses, wild hair." McKay's gaze slid up to look at John's hair. "Almost as intelligent as me."
John knew who he meant. "And he brewed this rotgut up today?" For some reason the weird conversation was helping, drawing him back to a normality where life-sucking aliens could be tucked into the drawer where all childhood nightmares went. Of course, tomorrow, the drawer would be open again, and John would have to deal with, maybe face again, what the Wraith could do. For now, though, he let the drawer slide shut.
Rodney shook his head. "He smuggled several bottles in with the science equipment." He shrugged. "He figured we'd need alcohol."
"Smart guy."
"So, you coming?"
John nodded. "Yeah. Lead on, MacDuff."
"That's Mc - oh, I get it." McKay led on anyway.
The lab, when they got there, turned out to be packed full of scientists and marines, several of whom were gazing at Radek in respect as he downed a glassful of pale amber-coloured liquid.
Making his way over to a table, Rodney snagged a glass and handed it over to John, then filled it from a pitcher. "Good luck," he said, cryptically, then grabbed a mug and filled it full of coffee.
John gazed doubtfully into the glass, then glanced over at Radek. Well, he was still standing. Pushing his doubts to one side, (after all, how much worse could this day get?), John took a gulp, then wheezed slightly as the innocuous-looking brew burned its way down to his stomach like old scotch. "Good drink," he managed.
"Is old Czechoslovakian recipe."
Turning, John found Radek right behind him. "It's...good." John took another mouthful, liking how it made his memories of the day feel fuzzier. He saw Ford's eyes widen as he swallowed.
"Major, he's had three glassfuls," he said, a hint of awe in his voice.
John could have sworn Radek smirked as he moved past him to where Rodney was standing.
"Do you think it's safe?" Ford continued.
Letting his smile widen, John handed him a glass. "Go for it."
Rodney's voice, raised in indignant argument, made him turn.
"I don't care how funny it is, the math is all wrong!"
"What's up?"
Needing no encouragement, Rodney plunged into the retelling of a joke that began with "a quark walked into a bar" and ended with a mathematical punch line.
John laughed.
Rodney scowled. "The math is wrong!" He grabbed a magic marker and a whiteboard and began scribbling furiously, Radek looking more and more amused by the second.
"Yeah, but it's funny." John shrugged. "I've always liked square roots."
Surprise tempered with intrigue appeared in Rodney's bright blue gaze. "You actually understood the joke?"
John shrugged again. "Yeah."
"And you still found it funny?"
"Yeah."
The scowl deepened. "I can't expect anything better from you - you're drunk!" Rodney turned his glare on Radek and continued arguing.
John smiled, feeling the iron band around his heart ease off slightly. This, this was one of the things he'd killed to protect: Atlantis, and the men and women who now inhabited the city. Turning, he gazed around the room, letting his eyes linger on Ford, who still had half a glassful of the rotgut left and didn't seem in a hurry to drink more, then move on to the mixed groups of scientists and marines. They were learning to play together; John was sure they'd learn to work together too.
Rodney's voice rose again, as he dragged all the nearby scientists into the argument to support his view. John smiled again, wondering if there was a joke that began "two geeks walked into Atlantis".
The end
Saturday, 20th September 2008
