Archive of Our Own

The conference room looked different than normal. Instead of the usual round table, it was set up in a way that reminded John instantly of a court. Two generals, four members of the IOA, one Daniel Jackson and Colonel Samantha Carter were sitting at the table in front of him, looking at him with various degrees of … lust, greed, and want. John didn't even need to lower his shield to be able to read those emotions in the people across from him, they were so painfully obvious. In fact, those feelings were so intense they were giving John a headache already. The conference had been going on for a little over an hour, but to John it felt like eternity. None of his answers would satisfy them and they just wouldn't accept his "no", either. John could tell that the way the trial, no, "conference" was going was at least worrying one man in the room. Dr. Daniel Jackson looked positively livid and he was also the only one from whom John could read an actual sliver of ... respect, maybe even fear from his expression and composure.

"I've told you that I can't do that. My mission is confined to Pegasus in general and Atlantis in particular. Going back to Earth is out of the question," John repeated as patiently as he could, considering the many times he'd already made that statement.

"That is unacceptable, Colonel Sheppard," Natasha Grimle said instantly. Which was pretty much the same thing one of them had answered whenever John had said 'no'. Maybe not the exact same words, but the same meaning. It was starting to get ridiculous. "The information you could give us could prove to be vital for anyone on Earth. Your understanding of Ancient culture, Ancient technology and weaponry will be of the utmost value to us. Of course, we do not plan on keeping you on Earth indefinitely, after you have provided the information we need you will be allowed to return to Atlantis. Whether it will be as the military leader or in another, more appropriate position will have to be discussed among all parties involved. Obviously the IOA and the US Military will have some say in that," Grimle's tone was stern, matching her frowning expression and John had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the woman. They were getting nowhere at all with this talk. They just didn't want to understand that no matter how they tried to sugar-coat it, the answer was still 'no'. Maybe they were still hoping he'd suddenly change his mind. Who knew?

It was maddening. In the same way that it was maddening that they hadn't even given him a table. He felt way too vulnerable sitting there, alone at the front, all of them watching him closely. Like a specimen under a lens. With people waiting for him to move or to do something special. John gave himself a moment to ball his hands into fists before he relaxed again, his hands on his thighs, a small smile on his lips. He'd been determined that they wouldn't get to him when he'd walked into the room and they damn well wouldn't. "As unacceptable as you may find that, Miss Grimle, I can't help you."

"That's nonsense. You just don't want to help us," General Owens, one of the brass who had come along, fumed, his head turning red with anger. "You are still a member of the United States Armed Forces and you will do as you are told. We are trying to show our good intentions here, giving you the opportunity to speak up for yourself after your deceit. And all we get for our generosity is the attitude of a spoiled, petulant child. You are forgetting your place, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard," he spat, glaring at John with so much jealousy and anger that John had to take a deep calming breath.

This was going to get him nowhere, John suddenly realized. They weren't going to accept his inability to provide their answers and he couldn't change his stance on it. The worst part was that John did want to help. He wanted to help so much. But he couldn't. John didn't want to leave Atlantis again. Earth was like a dead thing to him after the whispers of his city inside of his head. Suddenly sick and tired of the whole circus, John sighed and closed his eyes. The stab of glee at that was like a physical blow and John felt like screaming. He suppressed the urge to jump up and run and calmly said, "You're mistaken, sir, it's not that I don't want to help. I simply can't. My mission is to protect Atlantis, to protect the people in Pegasus." He shrugged and looked at each of the people in front of him in turn. "And you're wrong, I know my place and it's here. In Atlantis."

General Owens stood up, blatantly trying to intimidate John, before holding out a piece of paper to him. "Your marching orders, Colonel Sheppard. And you'll damn well obey them or I'll make sure you're be locked up in the bottom of the SGC and never see the light of day again." He paused, waiting for an answer, but when John remained silent, he hissed, "Is that clear, soldier?"

That did it.

John had tried to hold onto his temper for the entire time these people had infested his city, but enough was enough. He forgot that he wanted the situation to end peacefully, that he didn't want to be their enemy. How dare they treat him this way? He wasn't a prisoner. "You wish," John forced out through clenched teeth. His hands were shaking with anger and he balled them into fists again, unwilling to give Owens the satisfaction of seeing how much he'd gotten to John. "You are still under the assumption that you can order me around," he told them icily, his derision clearly audible, "see, that is where you are terribly mistaken."

"You're way out of line, Colonel," Owens hissed, his face taking on an unhealthy shade of red.

John forced himself to take a calming breath then smiled coldly at the General, enjoying it when the man flinched away from it. "I would have given you all the information I am able to give, if you would have just asked me and not tried to take me away from my home. How often do I have to tell you that I cannot go back to Earth?" John asked. His skin was itching from the waves of anger and greed he could feel coming from the people around him. Giving up the attempt to suppress the need to move, John jumped up and began to pace behind his chair, using it as a kind of shield. "Yes, I took a vow. In fact, I took two of those and I would have honored both to my best abilities," John announced, his gaze flickering along the panel with a glare every time he turned, trying to gauge what they were thinking. There was no use keeping up a façade of friendliness now, they certainly weren't doing it. Which relieved John of the obligation of doing so, as well. He was sick of this. Sick of having to pretend. Sick of these people thinking they could rule over him like that. Atlantis was his home. Nothing would make him leave her again. Nothing.

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but John glared at her and she shut it again with a snap. He wasn't interested in what she had to say for herself, or in the defense of the SGC or the IOA. There was nothing she could say to change his mind.

Focusing on what he wanted them to understand, he continued. "Since you came here you have done nothing but demand and order. You fairly reek of greed, all of you. It makes me sick. I came here to help. To protect. Not to be your personal guinea pig. I'm certainly not going to play 'answer man' for any of you, either." He finally came to a stop again behind his chair and rested his hands on the backrest. "I'm a simple soldier and I've sworn to protect this city and this galaxy. Think what you want, but I'll be damned if I screw up this mission just because you decided that you know better than we do what's important and what's not," he told them, his voice even and as normal as he could make it. It took a lot more effort than he liked; inside of him, his emotions were in upheaval.

"Now, listen Sheppard, it's our lives you're talking about and I think we've done pretty well defending Earth up to now. We do know what we're doing and what's important and what isn't and-" Owens started to say and John lost what little grip he had on his temper.

"No, you don't," John roared, no longer holding back anything. Owens had no ideas of the dangers that were out there, he had no idea that John couldn't just hand out his knowledge willy-nilly. It'd be like … putting a loaded weapon into the hands of a child. They wanted everything at once and now. No patience, no idea what they were getting themselves into and it just made John so angry. "You have no idea whatsoever what you're demanding from me. And as far as I'm concerned you can take your marching orders and shove them up your self-righteous ass," John hissed and the anger in his voice had finally broken through Owens obliviousness and he sat down, his face pale and his eyes wide, "because I'm sure as hell not leaving Atlantis." Tense silence followed that outbreak of John's fury and most of the people sitting there were just staring at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head. Of all of them, only O'Neill and Jackson looked like they agreed with him and it was good to know that they were on his side.

Lifting one of his hands from the backrest John pointed at the papers General Owens was still holding and set them on fire without hurting the man himself. He watched with satisfaction as General Owens dropped them with a little squeak and jumped up before ending up in an undignified sprawl when he stumbled over his fallen chair. "As for the locking up part, I'd like to see you try. If you'll excuse me now, I don't think I have any more to say to this topic." With that, John strode out of the room without waiting for permission. These people technically outranked him, but John couldn't stay there. He was sure that if he didn't leave right fucking then he'd do something drastic and unforgivable. Possibly by giving them a little taste of what he truly was capable of and then, he knew, all he'd have gained would be making them the enemy. John didn't want to terrify them enough to make them look for a way to kill him. Not that they actually could, but they would at least try. Right now, they were just pissed off and still underestimating him so badly it wasn't even funny.

John didn't want to fight them. He really didn't. He'd have loved nothing more than to help them in any way possible, working together towards a bigger goal. Why can't they understand? he thought, helplessly. With a mindset like theirs, it would be pretty damn hard to ever show them what he meant.

Furious about the whole situation and yet unable to regret what he'd done to save his city, John strode through the corridors, people staring at him as he passed. Some in awe, some with the same greed his judges had held. It was disgusting. He glared at anybody who even looked like they wanted to approach him and finally ended up in his quarters. The one thing he needed right then was to be alone, to work through what was happening and calculate the probabilities of what could happen. John had no doubts that somehow he would get through this power struggle with the SGC. Even if they put someone else in charge of the military, Atlantis was still his. They couldn't take her from him. And as long as he was still here, they couldn't take Rodney from him either.

John didn't need anything else.

"John?" Rodney asked, his voice, rough with sleep, cutting through John's thoughts.

Halting in his restless pacing, John turned towards his bed. Rodney propped himself up on his elbows and looked at John with a confused expression. "I'm sorry," John said, closing his eyes. Rodney had worked until nearly 3 am the night before and John had simply forgotten that he might still be sleeping. "I didn't mean to wake you, go back to sleep." He turned around and made to leave, but Rodney called out to him again. "Everything's alright, Rodney," he told him, but Rodney already looked more awake and he was frowning.

"You don't look alright," he simply said. "John?"

"They were being unreasonable and I lost my temper." Admitting that to Rodney was easier than he'd thought. He still felt angry and while he really wanted to be alone, Rodney's presence calmed him. Sighing, he stripped and crawled into bed as well, wrapping himself around Rodney, whose arms came up almost automatically. It was soothing, to have Rodney's hands on his back, gently rubbing up and down, to feel him breathe. "It wasn't a meeting," John said, "it was a trial. They want me on Earth, to strengthen their defenses and when I told them 'no' they tried to intimidate and threaten me."

"I'm sure General O'Neill-" Rodney started, but John snorted and he broke off.

"General O'Neill barely said a word. But Jackson pretty much played the role of my advocate." Already John felt much better. "I don't think this is the last I've heard of the matter," he finally said as one of Rodney's hands moved up, running through his hair. "Something is going to happen. Something is going to give, I can feel it."

"Well, what can they really do? Seriously, what could they do to make you reconsider?" Rodney asked, sounding oddly reassured in John's abilities to withstand whatever the IOA threw their way. "Nothing. You're not going anywhere and they can just go fuck themselves."

John smiled. "Yeah," he agreed readily, wanting Rodney to be right. The bad feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't go away, but at least he didn't feel like he wanted to raise the shield on the next batch of 'diplomats' anymore. He was still thinking when Rodney's breathing evened out and soft snuffling noises told John that he'd fallen asleep again. "Yeah, I hope so," John whispered and closed his eyes. He was suspended anyway, might as well take a nap. With that, he closed his eyes, his ear pressed against Rodney's bare skin, listening to his heart beat.

"That went well," Daniel commented dryly as he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. He looked about as exasperated as Sam felt. This whole meeting hadn't gone even remotely as planned. The IOA representatives were more threatening than Sam had thought was wise in their circumstances and General Owens had been outright patronizing. Sure, Sam wanted the information John had as well, wanted it badly, but still ... something about Owens was off.

Sam didn't doubt for one moment that if Owens found a way, he would really do what he'd said, that he'd lock John up somewhere in the SGC and never let him out again. Which came as a bit of a surprise to Sam because usually allies were treated with a bit more care. It seemed that the fact that John had been - and still was - a member of the Air Force, had given Owens the impression that he could treat him like any other lower ranking service member.

A sliver of doubt crept up Sam's spine, cold and persistent. Doubt that her hasty decision to inform the SGC and IOA of the true identity of John Sheppard had been a good one. She felt like she had somehow betrayed John, as if she had delivered him into the hands of the enemy. Sure, Sam wasn't too fond of the IOA either, but she hadn't expected the Spanish Inquisition when she had been informed the IOA and SGC representatives wished to talk to Colonel Sheppard in person. Hell, she'd seen enemies who had been treated better than what had gone on in this room over the past hour.

"I'll have him locked up for this," General Owens said, his head bright red with anger and hands balled to fists on top of the table. Sam was about to say something to appease him, when Jack finally gave Owens an impatient look Sam knew only too well.

"And what the hell did you think he'd do? You've heard the man, he's got his orders and judging by the things he's done during the last few days, I'd say he takes them very seriously. He re-charged a ZPM. With his bare hands. What more proof do you want that he's actually telling the truth? He's just trying to do his job and your threatening him and trying to bully him into giving in wasn't exactly helping." Jack said, glaring at the other General.

"Well, we should not forget that Mr. Sheppard willfully lied to the IOA and the SGC and is now actively disobeying orders given to him by his superiors. That kind of behavior is completely unacceptable for a member of the Atlantis expedition. And do I need to remind all of you that we need the information Mr. Sheppard can give us?" Woolsey, ever the bureaucrat chimed in, mouth tight, stern glare in place. He radiated so much disapproval it was almost comical. His behavior could have been really funny if the situation hadn't been so dire.

"I say we take him out and bring him back to Earth with us. By force if necessary. He's got a duty to his country and he's sworn an oath. It's about time he honored it," General Owens snapped, slamming his hands down onto the table in front of him and Sam inwardly cringed. This was going to end badly. What had she done? It was her fault … she had done this to John. She was responsible for the situation John was in. Even though Sam knew, she had had no way of knowing the IOA and the SGC would behave in such an atrocious manner she felt guilty for the whole sordid mess.

"You forget that he's an Ancient," Daniel interjected, his tone serious. "He could very well claim Atlantis for himself and make us leave. Legally, Atlantis is his. I don't think it's wise to outright threaten Colonel Sheppard. From what Doctor McKay told me about him and what I know of him, he's not going to just take it lightly. He's very protective of Atlantis and the people he considers to be his responsibility, and I have no doubt he could have done exactly what the Ancients from the Tria did, when we rescued them from their near light speed journey. But he didn't. He saved Atlantis from certain destruction, throwing his cover wide open. We shouldn't forget that."

"He's right, sir," Sam backed Daniel up immediately, hoping that if enough people spoke up for John they could still prevent an escalation. "Colonel Sheppard is one of the most protective people I've met. He's risked his life when he recharged the ZPM and he has shown his willingness to die for Atlantis and the expedition on numerous occasions." Yes, John was like that, and Sam had stabbed him in the back the first chance she got. She really wished she had listened to him. Or at least wanted to be able to go back in time and hit herself over the head viciously for being such an idiot. "Daniel's also right about Tural claiming Atlantis as his own. John told me explicitly that he can make the city useless to any of us. And I believe him, sir." She really did believe him. Now. Now that it might already be too late.

To Sam's great surprise, General Owens laughed. It was a cruel sound and it made Sam's skin crawl. "Claim Atlantis for himself? With what army?" Owens asked, sounding somewhere between amused and patronizing. "He's just one man and he's mostly human. Sheppard admitted it himself. He's no more ascended than any of us are and I doubt he could withstand some of our more advanced weapons. That little parlor trick he showed us earlier shouldn't be a problem. As for the city, we have other people with a strong gene, Jack here is one of them. All Sheppard can do is make threats he can't follow through. The only power he has is the one that we are giving him." Owens insisted.

"With all due respect, sir, I think that's where you're wrong. But that's beside the point. The real question is: do we really want to take the chance if he actually can do what he says he can?" Sam tried to reason.

"Also, I'm pretty sure you can't just deny his claim on Atlantis. He was born here and he grew up here. It's legally his. I don't think …" Daniel's attempt to talk sense into the General was cut off by Owens slamming his hands down onto the table again with a loud bang, making Sam jump.

"Enough of that insanity!" he practically screamed. "There is no way we are giving up Atlantis to one of our own people. If he doesn't want to follow our orders and actually tries to go that way, well, who's to say that he actually is an Ancient and hasn't had a breakdown and lost it out here?"

Sam felt disgusted by the whole thing, but she also knew her opinion didn't matter, not even a little bit, so she kept her mouth shut. Daniel didn't. He just looked at Owens oddly and pushed his glasses back up from where they'd slipped a bit on his nose. "You don't want to go there, General," he said calmly. "He's gone and unlocked his files in the system, you've seen them, they're genuine. He's Tural Nah, one of the commanders of the Lantean strike force during the Wraith war. There is no doubt about that. He is an Ancient. And I believe his story." He grimaced as if he'd eaten something especially sour before continuing, "Though, if he really did want to help us at any point, I think you've managed to properly alienate him. I know we all want his knowledge, but you can't force him to give that up. He's a Lantean and-" Sam smiled as Daniel's voice took on the tone he used when he was lecturing, but Grimle interrupted him before he could get started.

"I don't care if he's Kermit the frog," Grimle said, her brows furrowed with a deep frown. "He's not a genuine Ancient, not like the people from the Tria. We're not giving up Atlantis to him-"

"That's not actually what he wanted anyway, if you've been listening to him," Jack interrupted her, his voice deadpan. She glared at him and Jack sent her a small smile that seemed to disarm her. "Jesus, you're all acting like he stabbed you in the back personally. He was just John Sheppard until he got zapped and while, yeah, he should have told us when it happened, I can't really blame him. Can you?" Jack's gaze went to the solitary chair in front of him, he nodded towards him. "Really, can you blame him for not announcing it to the world?"

General Owens glared at Jack for a moment. He was still red-faced and looked unhappier than before. "It was his duty, O'Neill, he's a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force."

"Right now," Daniel interjected, "I don't think he's dealing as well with the dichotomy of his two personalities as he wants us to think he is. Did you notice how his speaking pattern changed? He's not finished merging yet. I think he's trying to be a good human at the same time as being the person they sent back to help us."

"Even more reason for him to come to Earth, to get psychological help with that. I don't see why he's so stubborn about it," Woolsey said. Sam had to give Woolsey that much, he hadn't been half as annoying as Owens and Grimle during the whole torturous session. Sure, he'd spouted the same nonsense as the other two, but he looked decidedly more nervous than the rest of the people sent to talk to John.

Suddenly, Sam had enough. She had to say something. Taking a deep breath she said, "He's here to help Atlantis. That's his mission and he's done so, even while he didn't remember anything. John Sheppard has saved this expedition more often than anybody else. From what we know about descension he doesn't remember everything and I do believe that if the Ancients sent someone to protect Atlantis and the people of the Pegasus galaxy, then there's reason to believe someone else was sent to do the same thing for Earth."

Grimle jumped up and whirled on her. "That's absolutely ridiculous and I don't think that's the case. I think that Sheppard is keeping something from us, that he's lying and that he's not actually here on a mission," she spat. "Something needs to be done to bring him in line. Ancient or not he's still human, just like General Owens said. And it's his duty to give us what he can to make sure Earth survives the Ori. We're under constant threat and he's just sitting there spouting something about missions and duties and how Atlantis is his home. I don't buy it and furthermore, I believe his attitude to be treasonous."

Jack stood up as well, "And I think this is quite enough. Let's blow this Popsicle stand, the President will want to hear our report. And I know mine surely won't be favorable." Grumbled assent made Jack roll his eyes heavenward. "For you," he added, then turned and left with Daniel on his heels and Sam hurriedly caught up with them. "Knuckleheads," she heard him mutter to himself and grinned at that.

"Stargate Operations to McKay."

"Go ahead," Rodney said, elbow deep in the innards of an Ancient console. It had been broken for a while now, but there had never been enough time to actually go and fix it. They weren't really using it either, so it hadn't been a priority. Until John had pointed out that it could be helpful, that was.

"There's a call from Midway Station for you. Should I forward it?"

Midway Station? What the hell could they possibly want from him to warrant a dial-up before the scheduled one at the end of the week? "Yeah, forward it. I can't really get away from here right now." Anything could happen to the parts he'd had to arrange around the room if he went somewhere now. His people were like magpies. If it was shiny and Ancient, it would vanish into repairs quicker than McKay could say 'stop it, you morons' unless he stayed and protected them.

"Doctor McKay, this is Midway Station. We need you here for repairs," a crisp male voice said, probably an engineer manning the station. Even over the radio, he sounded rather nervous. "One of the systems you designed - the sensor array - is defective. We're not quite sure what's wrong and-"

"And you are morons," Rodney helpfully finished the sentence for the engineer. "Yes, yes, I completely understand." He gently pried a crystal from its place and inspected it closely. It didn't seem broken, but he'd have to look at it under a scanner before he could be sure. "I have to finish this first, but I could probably fit your little problem into my busy schedule in two hours. I can't possibly get away from Atlantis before then."

"Yes, of course," the man answered and if he sounded a little bit like he was annoyed then Rodney didn't care.

"Two hours. Do make sure you have all the tools where I need them. My time is valuable and I won't waste it waiting for the equipment to be brought from storage," Rodney muttered. He carefully put the crystal in a box with the three others he'd unearthed that might be faulty. Rodney didn't wait for a reply. "McKay out," he snapped and touched his radio to close the channel.

"I see you're very busy," John suddenly said from behind Rodney. "Need a hand? Or two?"

Throwing a look at John, who seemed a little rough around the edges, Rodney nodded. "Take a look at the crystals and tell me if they're broken or not," he instructed, pointing to the box with his chin.

"As long as you remember that I'm not a living volt meter," John grumbled, but picked up the box and found a clear space to sit on the floor anyway. They were silent for a while, then John sighed. "I just got an order from the IOA to resume my post. There's this training thing Lorne and I have been planning for the last three months. Starts tomorrow morning at 0800. It's just ..." he trailed off and took out a crystal to hold it against the light. "They're giving in too easily. I don't trust them."

Rodney felt his own paranoid suspicion rear its ugly head, but really, there was nothing they could do. Nothing Rodney could do. "They've reinstated you completely?" he asked neutrally, turning enough to see John's face to gauge his reactions.

John lowered the crystal and breathed deeply. "Yeah," he muttered, barely loud enough for Rodney to hear. "Didn't even try and demote me or anything. That bastard Owens actually said they're going to consider a promotion."

With a frown, Rodney carefully removed his hands from the console and turned fully to face John. "They what?"

"Said I might be promoted," John repeated, slightly louder.

"But that's great," Rodney said, he remembered how happy John had been when he'd been promoted to Lt. Col. only too well.

John gently put the crystal back into the box. His face twisted oddly and then he took out another crystal to check it. "No, Rodney, that's not great. Owens was ready to put me in chains, throw me into a box and send me back to the SGC. He wanted to lock me away. That guy is not a man who changes his opinion easily, but he seemed almost happy - for him anyway - to tell me that. It gives me a really bad feeling."

"Huh," Rodney said, then turned back to the console. Some of the wires had come loose and he connected them quickly, so entranced in his work that he started when John touched him on the shoulder a few minutes later. "Don't do that," he snapped. "Sneaking up on me while I'm working is unfair." The grin John gave him was worth an early heart attack, so instead of ranting about John and possibly hanging a bell around his neck, Rodney smiled at him tentatively.

"They're all fine," John said while he placed the box with the crystals back in its place. "I'd help you put this thing back together, but I was always crap at that part. So I'll leave you to it. Lorne and I have to finalize a few things for the training session tomorrow."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"Four days," John answered, smiling brightly. "We'll put all the new personnel through their paces. Ronon's been especially looking forward to it. They won't know what hit them. Teyla's coming, too, and you can still change your mind."

Shaking his head anything but regretfully, Rodney said, "I don't really want to go. Running for my life when we actually have to is quite enough, thank you very much. But I'm sure you three will have tons of fun making the new personnel miserable." Then he remembered the call earlier. "However, I'm going to Midway Station to fix the sensor array in an hour and a half. The idiots there can't do it by themselves. I might as well look at some of the other systems while I'm there, though, or I'll get the next emergency call in a few weeks." John frowned again and Rodney hurriedly changed the subject back on John's planned torture session, "How many of my scientists are going tomorrow?"

"Oh, about two dozen I think. Lorne's got the final numbers," John answered with a reluctant smile. He so obviously wasn't over Rodney going, but was willing to at least let it slide.

"I'm sure you'll have fun," Rodney muttered, "even without me there." To Rodney's surprise, John reached out to him, running a hand over Rodney's bare right arm until the only parts of their bodies that were touching were the tips of their fingers.

"Be careful," John said, urgently.

Blinking, Rodney just stared at John for a moment before nodding slowly. "I don't know why you're so worried. I'm just going to Midway while you're going to play war with a bunch of people tomorrow. Really, you're the one who needs to be careful, not me."

John shifted a bit closer, giving him the smile Rodney generally liked to think was just for him. "We'll both be careful." Then he turned around and left.

Rodney allowed himself the pleasure of watching John leave, then returned to putting the console together again. Piece by piece slid back into place and when he checked his watch after he was done, he realized he barely had enough time left to grab a really quick shower and maybe grab a sandwich from the mess hall.

Working on Ancient machinery wasn't as grimy as working on machinery run with diesel, but the ten thousand years the city had sat inert at the bottom of the ocean had left it dusty and dirty anyway. The thought of having to go through the gate and spend another few hours on Midway putting together stuff other people had broken - because really, there was no reason the sensor array wouldn't be working unless someone had tried to 'fix' or 'upgrade' it - while he was pretty much covered in ancient … stuff wasn't pleasant. Having rinsed off with hot water to relax his back muscles and armed with fresh clothes, a few PowerBars and two wonderful chicken sandwiches, Rodney arrived in the gateroom just on time. "Dial Midway for me, Chuck, they need help with one of the systems and requested I take a look at it," he said as he ambled through operations, trying for nonchalant while his eyes ran over the work stations of the technicians stationed there, checking them subtly.

By the time he'd reached the bottom of the staircase the 'gate was activated already and all he had to do was step through. At least he knew most of the scientists in Atlantis - with exceptions, of course - were more or less capable. Otherwise, Rodney wouldn't be able to sleep from sheer anxiety that someone would blow something up while he wasn't in the labs. As it was, his people were slightly less moronic than the rest of the SGC scientists. He had picked them out himself, after all. Pausing for a moment Rodney looked up to Sam's office. The walls were clear at the moment and he could see Lorne, Sam and John sitting there, talking amiably. Then John looked over to him, as if he'd felt his gaze. Rodney gave him a little wave, eliciting a smile and then saw John's gaze shift to something off to the right. Tuned in as he was to John's moods off-world - self-defense, really, you wanted to know what the man who was protecting you thought of as a threat - Rodney turned and saw a Marine walk towards him. The Lieutenant grinned at him and Rodney threw a glare up at John, who at least had the decency to look slightly sheepish before looking away.

"Hey, Doc, the Colonel said you're going on a little excursion and need a helping hand."

Rodney glared at the Lieutenant whose name was eluding him at that moment. "Don't touch anything."

The man nodded and Rodney threw another look up to John, who was wholly immersed into his conversation with Sam and Lorne, then he took that last step through the 'gate, followed by his very own watchdog.

By the time he stepped out of the wormhole on the other side he'd stopped thinking about how terrible it was that John didn't even trust him to go to Midway on his own; instead his thoughts had turned to the idiocy of others. He wondered what exactly the technicians on the station could have done wrong with the sensor array.

Taking one of the sandwiches out of a pocket, he started to unwrap it just as the 'gate deactivated behind him and then took a huge bite, ignoring the Marine trailing behind him. Depending on how bad the problem was he'd definitely miss lunch. There wasn't going to be anything good in the mess hall that day anyway, but still. It was the principle of the thing. He nodded at the two Marines stationed in the room and made his way towards the exit when two different men stepped into his way. "Excuse me," he said with a frown and tried to sidestep them. "I have a sensor array that needs fixing."

They didn't move, but one of them raised a hand to stop him. "Please, Doctor McKay, the SGC requests your presence," he said.

Taking a closer look at the man's rank insignia Rodney glared at him full force. "Well, Sergeant, that may be the case, but Midway called first, and I'm not an intergalactic repairman, though if I was? They wouldn't be able to afford what I charge. I'm going to fix the array and then I'll go back to Atlantis and have my lunch. Now get out of my way." Anyone in Atlantis would have recognized his tone of voice as annoyed and near anger, these two were most likely the most stupid specimen the SGC could have found, because they didn't budge. "I said-" Rodney started, only to stop in his tracks when the 'gate from the Milky Way network started dialling out. "What the hell? That shouldn't happen. Is the quarantine protocol broken? I'll have to have a look at that while I'm here." He turned back to the two Marines as the wormhole engaged and dropped his sandwich in surprise when the two men seized him and dragged him backwards to the 'gate.

"Stand down," the man John had sent with him said and Rodney realized with consternation that he'd gripped his P-90 tightly. "Doctor McKay is going no-where, he's here to-" he didn't get to tell them what Rodney was there for, one of them men had pulled a Zat and shot the Lieutanant once, the energy skittering over his body as he fell to the floor, stunned.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rodney asked with an overwhelming feeling of hysteria.

"You really are needed at the SGC, Doctor McKay," the same man answered in an exasperated tone of voice as if he'd expected Rodney to simply say meekly 'yes' and do as he was told.

Before Rodney could answer, they let go of him and pushed him backwards through the gate. He let out a startled squeak when he landed on his ass in the gateroom, looking at the Earth 'gate as the Iris swirled into position over it.

"McKay?" Jack O'Neill said from behind him and he sounded as surprised as Rodney felt. "What are you doing here?"

Rodney picked himself up off the ground and turned around. O'Neill was in the company of General Owens and Richard Woolsey. A very bad feeling started to gather in the pit of Rodney's stomach. Very bad indeed. "I have no idea. Two of your people stunned the Marine John sent with me to Midway and then practically picked me up and threw me into the wormhole. Quarantine protocol was broken and now I'm here. I'd very much like to know what the hell is going on," he bit out, crossing his arms over his chest to show them exactly how displeased he was.

"What?" O'Neill asked, surprised. "Who stunned who?"

Owens smiled falsely at him and Rodney felt the little hairs in his neck stand up when in a sudden flash of realization he knew exactly what he was doing on Earth. "Oh my God, how stupid are you people?" he asked in exasperation and threw up his arms. Sometimes he really lost all faith in humanity. "When John finds out he'll be furious. He'll come here and you'll be so very sorry."

"That's what we're hoping he'll do. Sheppard will follow you, yes. But I think you are mistaken. He's the one who will be sorry," Owens answered, the smile never leaving his face. Woolsey, next to him, looked decidedly nervous but stayed silent. "Please, Richard, bring Doctor McKay to the VIP suit we've prepared for him."

Stunned into speechlessness, Rodney allowed one of the Marines to grab hold of his arm and drag him after Woolsey, who was in turn flanked by two marines while another set took position behind him. Like he could actually do something. It was laughable. There was no way Rodney could take on one Marine in hand-to-hand combat Never mind two. Five was definitely overkill in his case.

He could still hear O'Neill talking to Owens behind him, both their voices rising loud enough so they followed Rodney's little procession into the hallway. He just knew that O'Neill had been left out of the loop. Oh joy. He gave his military escort - five, ha! - a once-over. They'd probably expected him to resist. Rodney just balled his hands into fists. John, Telya and Ronon had taught him some hand-to-hand and how to use his weapons, both handgun and P-90, but he was no match for a trained soldier. "If you're ever caught, don't fight, Rodney," John had said, only once, but very early on, "do what they say and shut the hell up so they don't notice you. Then you wait for me." Leaving aside the fact that that was exactly what Owens wanted, Rodney believed in John. He'd be furious and Rodney had no idea what John was going to do. John had become ridiculously protective of him lately and while Rodney didn't know exactly how powerful John was now, he'd seen him recharge the ZPM and Rodney had a pretty good idea just how much energy that took. There was no doubt that this was going to end badly. "John won't like this," Rodney told Woolsey archly.

"He doesn't have to," Woolsey answered, "all he has to do is comply with our wishes."

"You really don't know anything," Rodney tried to reason again, "if you don't let me go he's going to come here and it won't be to do what you want or to answer your questions."

Woolsey just gave him a nervous chuckle.

They really had no idea what they were getting themselves into. No idea at all.

"Putting them together in groups like that is a great idea," Sam said and John had to keep hold of his temper. She was really trying, John knew that. Still, he felt a lot of residual resentment due to the way she'd sold him out. "If this mission goes well we should make it a mandatory training course for all personnel every six months. It'd certainly increase teamwork, don't you think, John?"

"Yes," he answered her through clenched teeth and saw her wince. She'd tried to tell him that she was sorry at least five times. And he'd grudgingly accepted her apology as well, but that didn't mean he had to forgive and forget. In time, he would at least forgive her. After all, she was only human and he knew how much science meant to her. She was just like Rodney in that respect. "Sounds good," he added, trying to make his voice sound normal. From Sam's expression he hadn't quite succeeded. Well, these things took time.

"We-" she started to say, but broke off when the 'gate started dialing.

John jumped up and was out of the door before her and Lorne, glad there was something that got him out of that pointless meeting. He was standing behind Chuck when the wormhole burst into existence.

"It's Midway station," Chuck said and John didn't need to see his face to know he was frowning. "But we just dialed out to them, I'm sure Doctor McKay can't be finished with the repairs yet."

"Atlantis, this is Midway station, we have a message for you from the IOA."

John had never heard the voice before, but the formality of the tone made his insides clench with fear. Something had happened. To Rodney. He was fairly sure of that. Only peripherally aware of Lorne and Carter flanking him, John motioned for Chuck to open a channel and cleared his throat that had closed up. "This is Colonel Sheppard, what is your message?" he asked evenly.

"Colonel Sheppard, General Owens sends his greetings. The IOA wants you to stand by for transport to Earth at their command. You're being recalled."

Feeling the strong urge to bang his head against the nearest wall John closed his eyes. He felt tense all over and there was an undertone to the guy's voice that told him there was another shoe, one that hadn't dropped yet. Something they could hold over him. "I think I was quite clear in my answer to that in our … meeting," John told the man slowly, as if speaking to someone with limited intelligence. "Or at least I thought I was. Let me clarify for the IOA again: I am not - nor will I ever be - coming to Earth. I have commitments here that I will not abandon. Can you tell them that or should I give you my message in shorter sentences with words containing two or less syllables? Let me try: no. Better?" He'd thought he'd worked through the anger, but apparently he hadn't because it was back full force. Everybody in the command room was staring at him, he could feel their gazes, but he didn't really care. The IOA and General Owens were seriously trying his patience and his goodwill. If they weren't very careful both would be gone sooner rather than later.

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, Colonel Sheppard. Doctor McKay is at the SGC right now and I'm sure he'd like to see you. General Owens wants you to know that Doctor McKay will be treated as a guest for now. That is subject to change if you should not comply to General Owens' orders. He wishes you to come to Midway Station immediately and submit to the security detail that is stationed there. You will be kept in quarantine and if you behave appropriately, you will be reunited with Doctor McKay once you arrive at the SGC."

If he'd thought he'd been angry before then what he felt at those words went beyond what John had thought possible. The word 'rage' came closer to describing it, and at the same time he felt a clarity that he'd only ever achieved in the thick of battle. "Why are you doing this?" John asked and his voice sounded alien in his own ears. Calm and controlled, not betraying any of the turmoil he actually felt. "McKay has nothing to do with any of this …" he trailed off, and closed his eyes when his vision turned blurry. They had Rodney. If they hurt him, John would destroy them.

Sam stepped forward until their elbows touched and John had to suppress the desire to jump away from her, to put distance between him and the person whose entire fault this sordid mess was. "I demand that you return Doctor McKay this instant," John heard Sam say. Her voice betraying her anger in a way John's hadn't. Looking at her, he could see the splotches of red on her cheeks and the steel in her eyes. But also the guilt. She knew it was her fault and she really was sorry. For a moment John thought, too little too late, but then he realized that she was going to fight for Rodney. And for John. And he smiled at that. Humans. Contradictory and passionate to the last. John turned his attention back to the rippling wormhole, his body trembling with tension and the need to do something. They had sent Rodney to Earth. Without his consent. They were trying to use Rodney against John. Trying to blackmail him into obedience. If he gave in now, they would keep using Rodney against him and John seriously doubted that they'd actually be true to their word and let Rodney go. Not just like that. Because while they were morons, they weren't stupid and they'd need Rodney to keep John in line. John was just about to add something to Sam's demands when the IOA representative spoke up again.

"Your request is denied, Colonel Carter. The IOA will keep Doctor McKay on Earth until Colonel Sheppard turns himself over to us for questioning and starts co-operating fully. After that Doctor McKay will be free to return to Atlantis," the man said and the only thing John could think about was what a fucking liar he was. If they let Rodney come back to Atlantis they'd lose their leverage. Unless … unless they thought he was helpless. "Once Colonel Sheppard is in custodial care of the IOA you can have your scientist back. That will be all, Colonel Carter. We await Colonel Sheppard's arrival at Midway Station shortly. Have a good day." With that, the transmission ended.

The anger inside of John turned cold in a way it had never before. Not even Chaya had enraged him like that. He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt.

"John, I'm so sorry," Sam said and turned to him as the wormhole died below them. Her eyes were wide and John could read the shock in them. "I shouldn't have …" but John shook his head and raised his hand to stop her from talking. It was good to know that she regretted her actions, but recriminations didn't help them at all.

Swallowing past the icy rage John closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe evenly. "No, Sam. I am sorry," he finally said when he was sure he could control himself well enough. "I warned them, warned you to not threaten me. They wouldn't listen. Now they have to deal with the consequences." He watched as she paled even further and felt a pang of fleeting sorrow at that. This wasn't what he'd wanted. Not at all. But they'd been on this path from the moment the IOA representatives and General Owens had set eyes on him and John was committed to walking it now. He continued speaking, "I told you I could take Atlantis from them, and I will. You'll still be safe here, but nothing more. They've made a big mistake by using Rodney against me like that. You have no idea what I'm capable of." John heard himself say, his voice lacking emotion. He felt unaffected by the look of sheer terror on her face and the whispered conversations around him. Already John's power was dancing underneath his skin, crackling around him like static energy and John didn't even make an attempt to reign it in.

"John, what are you doing?" Sam asked, no, pleaded, but John ignored her. He simply put his hands onto the console that held the DHD and ordered Atlantis to shut down everything but life support and the defense systems. Next, he disabled all 'gate addresses save the one for Earth, leaving the expedition with only one option: returning to Earth. They wouldn't be able to go anywhere else, not even for trades. The city was now completely useless to them.

John knew Radek and Carson would understand what he was doing. He'd told them - all of those who'd pulled close around him after Sam's betrayal - what he could do, what he would do. That he could lock them out of Atlantis' systems completely. Knew they'd be somewhat prepared. From now on, nothing would work for them. Gene carrier or not, Atlantis would be inert. No database, no equipment, no medical scanner. They could defend themselves in case of an attack and return home to Earth. That was it.

He looked at Evan, who was standing to John's left, still staring at the 'gate with something akin to horror and disbelief. John didn't acknowledge Sam as he said, "I am going to get Rodney back. And if they've so much as harmed a hair on his head, they are going to pay dearly. They'll be sorry they tried to blackmail me, as it is." John knew he needed to stay focused and in control or things would get out of hand. That was hard enough to do already and John briefly wondered if the fact that he loved Rodney had anything to do with his problems of keeping these raging emotions, his thirst for revenge, in check.

Turning back around to the DHD, John punched in the 'gate address for Earth and opened a channel when the wormhole had stabilized. "Stargate Command, this is John Sheppard. Open the Iris," he said, feeling oddly disconnected from his surroundings.

"Negative, Colonel Sheppard. You are not cleared for direct travel. Report to the IOA personnel on Midway Station and prepare to go into quarantine," came the answer through the speaker a moment later.

John grit his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. "That was not a request," John said slowly, enunciating clearly so there was no uncertainty on what he meant. "I'm coming through now," he finished and closed the channel. John knew Oniph and the others would take care of the Iris for him if necessary. This mission was of the utmost importance and they would never risk him getting hurt. Also, since he was one of them and outside of the rules anyway, interfering for him was actually no problem at all. He'd calculated it all through. Chances that the SGC wouldn't open the Iris for him were below five percent, negligible small, anyway. They wouldn't want to lose their precious pet Ancient. He turned towards the stairs just to find Sam in his way.

Sam looked at him and pleaded, "John, you can't go through, if the Iris is still closed ... you'll die. And the Iris can't be opened from this side of the gate, you know that. Please, John. They are counting on you wanting to save Rodney and complying with their wishes. If you go now, that's suicide. Dial Midway, please. I really don't want to see you get hurt or die … or ascend again."

For a moment John looked at her. He didn't need to tell her that whatever was happening was her mess, that she was at least partly responsible for starting all this. And that she hadn't cared much for his well being then. When she didn't move out of his way and stood there stubbornly, pale and afraid, but still courageous enough to block the way of an enraged Ancient, John relented. "I'm not going to die, Sam, but someone else might if they keep treating me like this. There will be no negotiations and if they stand in my way," he said, cocking his head thoughtfully while eying her up and down quickly, "they will have to face the consequences. I'm going to get Rodney back and I will make it clear, once and for all, that no-one fucks with me like that." They stared at each other for another heartbeat before Sam visibly swallowed and got out of John's way. John gave her a cold smile, then descended the stairs and walked towards the Stargate with long, sure strides. He went through the event horizon without hesitation. There were no thoughts about dying against the closed Iris on the other side for him, just his focus on what he was about to do. They'd thought the Goa'uld were bad? That the Ori were terrifying? They had no idea what a Lantean was capable of. The Ori were tied to their own galaxy, forbidden to come to the Milky Way by an agreement wrought eons ago. Priors were nothing compared to John. Adria, the Orici, came probably closest to what John was and the IOA would regret making him angry.

He didn't even stumble when he came out of the wormhole on the other side, but just stood there at the top of the ramp while everybody stared at him in open disbelief. Huh, guess they didn't think I'd just step through without them agreeing to opening the Iris first, he thought hazily. Oniph must have opened it for John and he sent a silent thank you to his friend for saving his ass once again. There were Marines stationed around the room, they were aiming their weapons at him as John slowly walked down the ramp. A moment later Owens entered through the broad door, red faced and obviously upset. He stopped not far from John and snapped, "What the hell is going on here? How did you open the Iris and what are you doing here already? You are supposed to be at Midway." John just looked at him and took another step that brought him into the middle of the 'gateroom. "Stop right there or we will shoot you!" Owens bellowed.

As if on cue, more Marines entered the room, carrying various alien weapons including staff weapons, Zats, and even a Wraith stunner. They took their positions in a half-circle in front of John, aiming at him.

John ignored Owens, his gaze roaming up to the window that showed the control room, where everybody stared down at him in shock. They were undoubtedly getting Sam's report on what John had done in Atlantis right that very moment. Good. Everything was going according to plan. John would make sure he'd scare the hell out of Owens and everyone who had dared to interfere with John's mission. Fighting to keep his rage in check, John proceeded to walk down the ramp.

"Shoot, but don't kill him," Owens snapped and John allowed himself a bored half-smile. This idiot really thought any of his weapons could harm John. It was ridiculous. With an exaggerated wave of his hand John froze the bullets that had been aimed at him in mid-air, cocking his head slightly. Matrix moment he thought and the part of him who was and who always would be John Sheppard was inwardly grinning with glee.

The Marines carrying the alien weapons fired a round at him as well, but the energy just danced along the barrier John had surrounded himself with, blowing out uselessly.

Owens' face went from bright red to deathly pale in a matter of seconds and John raised an eyebrow at him. "That the best you can do, Owens? Did you really think I was that weak? Tell you what: you wanted to play? Then let's play," John said coolly. It was good to see Owens blanch even further and take an involuntary step backwards. Not like that would save him if John had actually wanted to injure him, but there was some real fear there. The man had probably just realized exactly what he'd done and who he was facing.

Miscalculating a situation and misjudging an enemy was always a bitch. John snapped his fingers and the 'gate powered down as John disenabled the Earth Stargate by utilizing the emergency shut off his people had integrated directly into the 'gates. "Oops," John drawled, cocking his head to the left. He knew his eyes were communicating his cheer clearly enough. "I think I may just have stranded a few 'gate teams on other planets. Sorry 'bout that. I'll make sure they get the message it was your fault, though, no worries."

He could see the people up in the control room move quicker, now. Probably trying to figure out what was wrong with the 'gate. Poor, poor humans. So young and inexperienced. Before now, none of the Lanteans they had encountered had been out to hurt the SGC. At best, they'd been unhelpful and vague, more concerned with their non-interference rules than anything else. But not John. He'd do anything necessary to get Rodney back. Anything.

"What's next?" John asked his captive audience conversationally. "Ah, yes, I believe you have something that is mine. I want to see Rodney and I want to see him now. I swear, if you've harmed him in any way, you won't live long enough to regret it." John stepped closer to Owens as he said that, never raising his voice. Instantly the Marines moved in to protect the General, to keep John away from him. John just tsked at them and with a flick of his right hand lifted them all up. He held them suspended in the air, like he'd done with the bullets a moment ago, his attention already on Owens again. Maybe he should have made this point the moment the IOA representatives had stepped through his Stargate. Maybe he should have shown them the power he held, made sure that they'd never underestimate him. It's a moot point now, John thought. What's done is done.

"We'll find a way to take you down," Owens told him with venom in his voice, "and then you'll regret the day you dared to threaten me."

John could hear the real fear underneath the anger and the bluster and smiled at Owens, who was visibly taken aback. "I don't think so," he replied. "You still seem to be under the impression that you can stop me. What will it take for you to understand that I will never bow to the will of the IOA? Not through force, not through threats, and definitely not through blackmail. You think you are powerful because you defeated the Goa'uld? You're not. If it hadn't been for advanced technology that fell into your hands you'd still be chained to this planet like the children that you are. Without the Stargates my people seeded all over the galaxies you would still just be killing each other on your own small planet. You've stumbled from planet to planet, believing you are doing the right thing. You've sent people to Atlantis without knowing what was waiting for them there. You sit here, on Earth, judging the people who have to fight the monsters for you, telling them you'd have done a better job in their stead. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, Owens. If you had been in Pegasus during that first year, you would never have survived. You'd have died, after offering the location of Earth to the Wraith on a silver platter." His voice had risen through the course of his lecture and John didn't even know why he said any of that. It wasn't like any of the people here cared about what John thought. They wanted to have what he represented, the knowledge he had - or they thought he had anyway. He forced himself back to calm and opened himself up, enjoying the surge of terror that came from Owens. "You think that I will regret threatening you? Then you are a fool. What did you think I'd do when you took Rodney from me to try and force me to comply? Sit back and let you walk all over me? That's laughable. I'm a soldier, Owens," he said. "I've been a warrior all my adult life. Both as Tural and as John Sheppard. You don't scare me. And you certainly don't intimidate me into surrender. This mess," and he waved around the gateroom, indicating the Marines still hanging mid-air, "is your fault. Yours and that of whoever in the IOA hatched it with you."

"How dare-" Owens started to say but John raised his hands, forcefully shutting him up.

"Enough of that. I'm not interested in anything you have to say. The only thing I want to know is where you have Rodney. You will bring him here, now, and if you co-operate, I might not shut down your Stargate permanently. If you don't, then I swear this installation will be nothing but a smoking hole in the fucking ground after I'm done, do we understand one another?" John asked. He was just about to say more when General O'Neill entered the room with Daniel Jackson in tow. Both of them looked calm, but determined and ignored the floating Marines completely.

"Hey, John, I see you've heard the news already, huh? Why don't you let the men down and we'll talk about this? You know they're just doing their job and I'm sure you don't want to hurt anybody. Come on, let's go see McKay and have a beer," O'Neill said, smiling a bit crookedly at John. He appeared completely unfazed and John's respect for the man increased ten-fold just because of that. When John didn't answer, Jack stepped closer, and lowered his voice, "Let General Chucklehead there think his many mistakes over in peace. He's in for a few surprises, isn't he, John? He shouldn't have underestimated you so badly."

John blinked at him in surprise. O'Neill was talking to him as if he were talking with an upset friend and not a raging Ancient who was about to take the base apart. Looking at O'Neill suspiciously, John asked, "General Chucklehead?" At O'Neill's shrug, John fought the urge to grin and continued, "You want to tell me you didn't know about this?" It was somewhat hard to believe, but the wry grimace O'Neill gave him in response told John everything he needed to know.

"No, we didn't," Jackson answered in his stead, drawing John's attention. The man had been ascended. Twice. And John could see the machinations of his kind all around him. "We didn't know and we don't agree with his actions. We just want to sort this out, okay? Nobody needs to get hurt." Jackson nervously pushed his glasses up on his nose and John could see how he was trying not to look at the men in mid-air all around him. But John could feel that Jackson wasn't afraid of him, more of what he could do. It was like Jackson trusted him not to punish the innocent for the stupid actions of one of them.

"He took Rodney from me," John informed them, the cold inside of him melting away as his anger became white-hot again, threatening to overwhelm him. "He took Rodney against his will to blackmail me. He planned to lock me up and use me for his own purposes."

Jackson looked relieved for some reason and John found himself lowering his shields a fraction further. He wasn't going to risk walking into a trap because these two looked so sincere. "Yes, we know that now and we're sorry. Really. But this was the decision of the IOA and some other … people, not ours. I'm sure we can sort this out without starting some sort of war. We're not looking for more enemies, John. Please," Jackson's tone was reasonable, it reminded John painfully of Elizabeth and Teyla and their diplomatic skills. O'Neill just stood there and nodded like he'd probably done on countless worlds while Jackson talked high tempers down.

"Yeah. What he said," O'Neill piped up and pointed at Jackson with a thumb. "Come on, John. You've got the upper hand anyway. Sam told us that you took control of Atlantis," O'Neill said and briefly glared at Owens, who looked horrified but was still unable to say a word. "You shut us right out, even though some people didn't believe you could actually do it. Told you he's an idiot. Now, let's take this party someplace nicer, what do you say? McKay's got some pretty cool VIP quarters. Let's go see him before he talks Woolsey to death. Alright?"

John could feel the sincerity from them, together with a tangled knot of fear, no, terror from the men around him. He allowed himself a moment to close his eyes. Yes, he'd been furious, but he hadn't actually hurt any of these people, nor was he planning to. O'Neill was right, they had just done their job, it wasn't their fault Owens had been playing with fire. Carefully, John put the Marines back onto solid ground and gave Owens a long, scorching look before he turned back to O'Neill and said, "Yes. Alright. Take me to McKay." He waved his hand in dismissal and allowed the people in the room to move - and to talk - again.

"The last word has not yet been spoken in this matter," Owens snapped behind him and John was just thinking that silence had definitely been an improvement in that man's case when O'Neill lost his temper.

He turned on his heel and zeroed in on Owens with terrifying speed, poking a finger in Owens' chest. "If I were you I'd shut up before he snaps your neck, you idiot. I suggest you go and sit down quietly in a corner, Owens, and think about what the hell you've done. The President will hear of this and I am sure he won't be happy about you endangering Earth and our peaceful relations with one of the most powerful people in Pegasus like that. You should probably consider retirement. I hear it's good for the soul or something," he told Owens with a false smile and a bit of the rage John felt burning inside of him settled down at that.

"John, Danny, let's go save Woolsey from McKay," O'Neill muttered and strode from the room without giving Owens another glance.

"I need something to eat, I'm starving," Rodney said, crossing his arms in front of him and glared at Woolsey who sat on a chair as far away from Rodney as he could possibly get. "I'm allergic to anything citrus, so try and keep from killing me with the food." The room they'd put him in was quite nice, but Rodney couldn't really enjoy it. He was there as a prisoner after all and over the past few years Rodney had learned that even the nicest cell wasn't all that different to a dank dungeon in the whole loss of freedom department.

Woolsey waved at one of the Marines waiting by the door and Rodney changed track, now that his immediate needs were going to be met. "You have absolutely no idea what you've done, do you? No idea at all. John is going to take this mountain apart and it won't be pretty." Rodney wasn't sure if he should be happy about that or not. Sure, it was incredibly nice to know that John was going to come for him, no matter where he was, no matter what had happened, but what exactly John would be doing when he got there? Rodney wasn't sure. It was a very real possibility that John would be angry enough to actually kill everybody who stood in his way and Rodney really didn't want that to happen. Shaking off his feelings of unease, Rodney continued to verbally harass Woolsey, "What the hell were you thinking when you kidnapped me like that, anyway? No, don't answer that. Rhetorical question. Because clearly, you weren't thinking, otherwise you'd have realized that kidnapping me to blackmail John was an abysmally bad idea," Rodney snapped, irritably.

"He's an Ancient for god's sake. He's got most of his powers and he's not bound by the non-interference rules. Can you even begin to understand what that means? He can do to you pretty much anything he likes and there will be no punishment for him from his friends. He's got carte blanche. And you idiots made him angry." Rodney enjoyed the way Woolsey paled even more. Clearly, he had no idea at all what the consequences of kidnapping Rodney could be. Woolsey and Owens and their little friends probably hadn't thought about what could happen to the SGC or Earth in general if their hideously stupid plan backfired. "I really don't want to be in your place when he gets here," Rodney concluded with a glare at Woolsey and got up to pace the length of the room. Even though it was one of the VIP suites, it wasn't exactly huge, but definitely bigger than the personnel quarters in the mountain.

Woolsey chose that moment to seize the break in Rodney's ranting to answer back. "But surely he will see that what we did was all with the best intentions for our people and the whole planet in mind. He would not harm members of the military he belongs to. Or innocent people. Not just to get revenge, would he? Colonel Sheppard called himself a protector. Certainly that means he will not just harm innocents," Woolsey said and he sounded like he actually believed that, even though he was now dangerously pale.

Rodney stopped in the middle of the room and stared at him, lost for words for just a moment. Then he sneered at Woolsey. "Yeah, I'm sure he wouldn't hurt innocents. Problem is, I don't see any innocents here, do you? This is a military installation and the ones in charge deceived him. You people tried to use his friendship with me against him. That makes you guilty. There's no telling what he'll do, I won't even try to guess, but I'm sure it won't be pretty," Rodney told Woolsey and he took great delight from it. He was absolutely certain John would find a way to come and get him. Take him back home, back to Atlantis. And even though that was all Rodney wanted right then, his mind shied away from the multitude of possibilities on how exactly John might accomplish it.

What worried Rodney most was that he had no idea what the consequences were going to be. Both the kidnapping and John's rescue mission would have a huge impact on the relationship between John and Earth and … Rodney didn't want them to be enemies. Earth was still kind of his home. The home that was, flitted a thought through Rodney's head and he frowned at it. Jeannie and Madison were on Earth. And Kaleb. If the SGC declared John an enemy, then it would all escalate. John would take Atlantis away from them, send the expedition home. And while Rodney didn't particularly like people - they were much too stupid to exist some days anyway - Rodney had gotten used to some people. He'd kind of miss Radek. And Sam. And maybe a few of the others. So really, that wasn't something Rodney wanted to happen.

He was just belaboring the implications of what that meant to his sanity when the door opened behind him and Rodney whirled around to face it, hoping it was Owens, telling him he could go. It was General O'Neill, though, who entered the room with Daniel Jackson and John in tow. If Rodney hadn't known John so well he wouldn't have noticed just how furious he was, his face was so neutral it was unnatural. But Rodney could see it in the way his eyes gleamed dangerously and were squinted just that little bit. In the stiff way John held himself, hand close to his sidearm and his fingers twitching a bit now and then. It was easy once Rodney knew what to look for. The moment John saw Rodney, he rushed forward and the anger vanished in favor of what was obviously relief. He hugged Rodney, burying his face in Rodney's neck, the other people in the room seemingly forgotten.

Rodney gasped when John squeezed him uncomfortably tight, but didn't try to dislodge him. Instead, he gave John a moment, patting him on the back rather awkwardly, worrying about their audience and what it could mean to John. Jail time in Leavenworth at worst and a dishonorable discharge at best. When his vision started to get funny, though, he tried to wriggle out of the hard grip. "John, John, you're suffocating me," he panted, starting to panic.

John let him go as abruptly as he had wrapped himself around him, looking at him with worry. "Rodney, are you alright? They didn't hurt you, did they?" John asked, mustering him intently. He went so far as to hold him at arm's length and run his hands over Rodney's upper body to check manually for injuries.

Speechless at the streak of over protectiveness, Rodney then started batting away John's hands. "Stop that, John, they didn't hurt me," he said, acutely aware of O'Neill's smirk and Jackson's smile. Rodney wished John would realize who was in the room with them and stop behaving like a mother hen. "Maybe they're not complete morons after all. However, you just did a very good job of cutting off the oxygen to my very valuable brain. Can you try not to break me? Also, I'm hungry. Could we go now and find-" Rodney's complaint was cut short by John who had been giving him an exasperated smile and now just cupped Rodney's face in his hands and kissed him. Either he didn't care that they weren't alone, or he was completely ignoring it.

Rodney couldn't help but give in to the kiss. He could feel the slight tremors running through John's body and realized that John hadn't just been furious. He'd most likely been scared to death by the thought that Rodney could be hurt. Finally, Rodney couldn't stand it anymore and ended the kiss by pushing John away a bit; their lips still awfully close as John refused to budge further. John gave him a beaming smile, his eyes glittering with mirth instead of anger now. Rodney threw up his hands and gave up protecting John from his own stupid ideas, "I'm fine, John, I'm really fine. Now, could you please feed me?" He felt a little faint with hunger and he knew that if he didn't eat soon he'd start shaking like a leaf. "Also," he added in a whisper, "there are people here. And you're kissing me. Did you take leave of your senses?" From John's scrunched up expression Rodney knew he was very close to bursting out into laughter. Somebody cleared their throat and Rodney looked over John's shoulder straight at O'Neill.

"Um, could we cut the lover's reunion thing short? This is still a military base and technically, you're still a member of the Air Force, John," O'Neill said, his voice dry and his face turned away from them. As if he only had to do something about it if he actually looked into their direction. The man had always been a bit odd in Rodney's opinion. Odd, but just like John one of the best military officers Rodney had ever met in his rather long association with the US Military. Still, Rodney flinched and would have put some space between John and himself if John hadn't still been holding him. This day was just getting worse and worse. At least Woolsey was nowhere to be seen any more. He must have taken the chance and left while John's focus was on Rodney. So he wasn't entirely stupid, then. Good for him, Rodney thought with venom.

"I don't think that's a problem, Jack," John said and half-turned to look at O'Neill with a raised eyebrow. The use of O'Neill's first name had clearly been deliberate and John didn't let go of Rodney, either.

O'Neill gave John another dry grin and cleared his throat. "Well … certainly not for me, but let's keep it down anyway, alright?" He shrugged with one shoulder as if to say it wasn't really all that important to him. "You know, complicating things and all that. I'm all for-" The door burst open and Owens barged into the room, five Marines with alien weapons on his heels. They spread out behind Owens, pointing their guns at John. "What the hell?" O'Neill asked, his expression incredulous. "Stand down," he hissed through clenched teeth and Rodney figured he was more than just a bit angry.

But Owens didn't even acknowledge O'Neill and his men didn't so much as twitch. "Stun everybody, they're obviously being influenced by Sheppard," Owens barked and Rodney - who'd had a few experiences with plenty of volatile situations - allowed John to push him to the ground where he stayed in a boneless sprawl. Jackson and O'Neill weren't quite so lucky; even as John leapt towards them, the Marines shot and both of them got hit, going down with two loud thuds that made Rodney's head hurt in sympathy. The weapon was completely ineffective against John at least, who was surrounded by a shimmering aura of what had to be pure energy. Lying there, Rodney couldn't do more than watch one of the Marines take aim and shoot at him, but the same barrier that had flickered around John like a second skin flared up in front of Rodney's eyes and let the ray of … whatever it was they were shooting at him flitter harmlessly around him. Rodney watched in fascination as John moved around the room with deadly grace, disarming the Marines one by one, sending them to the floor with what looked to be an odd mixture between some of Teyla's stick fighting techniques and what Rodney had seen some of the Marines practice.

Picking himself up from the floor, Rodney went to kneel next to Jackson and O'Neill. The two of them looked unharmed, they breathed evenly and easily. Apart from their eyes, they didn't seem to be able to move, though. "They're still conscious," Rodney told John before he was yanked backwards and up at the same time, an arm banded around his throat like steel. At his back wrenching painfully, Rodney gasped and John whirled to look at him and froze. A clicking noise and the press of cold metal against Rodney's temple were terrifyingly familiar. "Let me go," Rodney said, but the arm around his throat tightened and he had to struggle to breathe.

"Shut up," Owens hissed into his ear, "and don't move, or I'll put a bullet into your brain." Rodney went still in Owens' grip as he felt his face go cold. The man was totally insane. Certifiable. "Good boy," Owens praised him in an odd tone of voice, but didn't loosen his hold on Rodney. "Now, Sheppard, who has the upper hand? I saw your disgraceful display on the surveillance monitors and I can't believe that O'Neill didn't just take his sidearm and shoot you where you stood. I've read your service record. Unfit to be a soldier is the nicest thing I can say about you. You're also a liar, committed treason and you probably like getting it up the ass." His voice had risen to an unbearable level and Rodney's ears were ringing. "If you weren't so important," Owens spat like it was a curse word, "I'd put you in front of a firing squad."

John wasn't looking at Owens, he was looking at Rodney. His expression was unreadable, but Rodney could interpret what John was saying with his eyes. Trust me, John was telling Rodney. Do what we practiced. Don't worry. Rodney felt cold all over from fear and lack of oxygen. Silently moving his lips to form the words 'go on' Rodney closed his eyes, concentrating on getting as much air as he could for a few seconds, then locked his gaze with John's again. He was ready.

There was no nod, no tell, nothing. Just John suddenly moving towards them with a speed Rodney remembered seeing in the gym. Inadvertently tensing, Rodney forced himself to keep his eyes open. If he had to die, he at least wanted to do it while seeing John.

But the shot never came. There was no pain, nothing, just Owens' explosive curses right next to his ear. Then John was there and he forcefully removed Owens' other arm from around Rodney's throat and pushed Rodney out of the way.

Stumbling away, Rodney went to his knees from sheer relief, bracing himself against the floor with his hands as well. He breathed in deeply, air filling his lungs as he listened to the grunts of pain and the sound of flesh hitting flesh behind him. When his vision became clear again, Rodney pushed himself to his feet, he had to see what was going on.

Owens was kneeling on the floor in front of John with both his arms angled oddly and the superior expression that had never really left his face had been replaced by naked fear. And John stood there, pointing the gun at Owens' head with a steady hand. Blood was running from the corner of Owens' mouth and out of his nose, which was obviously broken. Rodney took a step closer, but he was afraid to disturb the violent tableau in front of him. "John," he whispered, terrified John would shoot if Rodney spooked him now. "John, I'm alright. Look, I'm fine, good as new."

John twitched a bit, but didn't look at Rodney. "He stole you from me," John said, his voice shaking, "and he was going to kill you." Rodney could hear the desperation in the words and the pain and he hurt for John.

"But he didn't. And you've got me back," Rodney insisted gently, taking another step closer. "Look at him, he's no threat anymore. Don't pull the trigger."

"Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't kill this piece of shit," John said, sounding rough with his voice shaking a little. "I warned him not to threaten me. I warned him several times. But he wouldn't listen. He's never gonna stop. He'll never leave us alone and I don't want to live in constant worry of what he's planning or if he'll manage to kill you the next time he tries something," John said tonelessly, as if he'd already made up his mind, finger tightening on the trigger enough for Rodney to see it.

"John please," Rodney begged, inching closer still. "He can't harm me any more. You've got him at your mercy. Come on John, you're no murderer. You could have killed him a dozen times over if you had wanted to, you could have had him drop dead the moment you stepped out of the Stargate. But you didn't do any of that. You don't want to kill him, John. I know you don't." He'd seen John angry enough to kill. Had seen the bodies of the Genii soldiers that he'd taken down in order to save both Rodney and Elizabeth. There was no doubt in Rodney's mind that he was capable of that kind of violence, but Rodney also knew that the simple fact that Owens was still breathing meant something. Rodney hated the man as much as he'd ever hated anybody. For making John do this, for forcing him to go against people John wanted to protect. For trying to use Rodney to make John do what they wanted him to do. But he didn't want Owens' blood on John's hands. There was always a price for this kind of thing and Owens just wasn't worth that. Ancient or not, Tural or John, he was still human, could still feel remorse, could still have nightmares.

Rodney hoped he would get through to his enraged lover, hoped John wouldn't kill Owens and complicate the negotiations Rodney was sure would fallow this whole sordid mess. Something had to give, and soon. There would need to be talks, and Rodney really hoped John hadn't killed anyone yet, hadn't made things more complicated than they already were going to be. He didn't want John to be declared the enemy, didn't want the situation to get out of hand completely. To Rodney's great surprise, a blinding white light flashed through the room and a second later, the Ancient Rodney had first met on Atlantis a few weeks back - Oniph - appeared next to Owens.

Oniph nodded to Rodney in greeting, almost regal, his expression serious, before addressing John, "Tural, I know you are angry. You have every right to be, we know this. This man took your mate from you and threatened both Rodney McKay and your mission. Of course, it is within your rights to seek retribution for these offenses, but we beg you to reconsider your course of action. Listen to your mate. Alienating the humans here will not be helpful for you and your mission in the Pegasus Galaxy. They are children, Tural, and they are scared. They do not know any better. Lashing out in terror instead of welcoming you was to be expected. We knew this. I think this man has learned his lesson. Let his own people judge the morality of his actions today." Oniph spoke with calm, even words and - to Rodney's great relief - John relaxed gradually, even though he didn't lower his weapon.

It was working, but it just wasn't enough. Trying to think of something that would make John lower his weapon, Rodney finally said, "He's right, John. Please put that gun away. I'm fine, see? He didn't hurt me. I'll be alright, I just want to leave. And … I'm hungry. Hungry and tired. I just want to go home, okay?" Rodney saw John's arm drop a little and decided to up the ante. Rodney would use John's protective streak to shift the focus to himself rather than Owens. Giving his voice a slightly exhausted and miserable tone, Rodney went on, "Can you take me home, John? I miss Atlantis. And I'm a little jittery. I'd like to lie down and get some rest. Come on, everyone is probably worried sick by now. We really should get back. I just want to leave, alright? Let O'Neill and the others deal with this idiot. He's not worth the trouble. We could be home in time for dinner."

For a long moment, nothing happened. Owens didn't move, didn't make a sound other than breathing harshly through his mouth. Oniph didn't move either, didn't even seem to blink as he patiently waited for John's decision. After what felt like an eternity, John finally looked away from Owens and over to Rodney, his searching gaze taking in every detail as if to make sure Rodney was truly unharmed.

"I'm fine, John, just tired," Rodney repeated in response to the look John gave him and finally the burning rage in John's eyes dimmed. He slowly let the gun sink, and Rodney released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Maybe everything would be alright after all.

John looked back at Oniph, the tension left his shoulders and his bearing went from ready-to-shoot to something akin to relaxed. "You're right. He's not worth it," John spat and finally - finally - there was emotion back in John's voice. There was so much disgust audible now that Rodney flinched involuntarily. "But if any of them ever threaten Rodney again, if any of them harm Rodney, all bets are off. Rodney's mine. Atlantis is mine. They try anything shifty, I'll make them pay," John secured the weapon and tossed it to the floor carelessly.

The ancient inclined his head and replied, "Your decision is reasonable and sound. Take good care of yourself and Rodney McKay, Tural. There is much left for you to do in Atlantis. Your mission is not yet completed. Just know that we are proud of you and we approve of the mate you've chosen." He looked at Rodney now with a slight smile, which for some reason, made Rodney uneasy. "You are well matched." He smiled again, this time at John and then vanished in a burst of blinding light.

Rodney felt weak with relief when John turned towards him and stumbled into his arms, nearly toppling both of them over. John's face was ashen and he looked ready to collapse. "John?" he asked, unsure what was happening.

That was when Owens gave a yell of frustration and threw himself towards the weapon. Both his arms were definitely broken and pointing the gun at John must have hurt the man quite a bit. "You'll pay for that," he roared, but John didn't even turn around as he waved a hand and Owens was thrown back against the wall, the weapon a twisted piece of metal at his feet.

Rodney could only blink before he wrapped his arms around John. "Are you okay?"

"Just a bit tired, Rodney," he muttered softly into Rodney's shirt, only still standing because Rodney had wrapped his arms around John. They stayed like that for a moment, John's breathing shallower than Rodney liked, before John straightened, but there was a strain around his eyes that Rodney liked even less. "I'm fine, Rodney," John said, smiling at him lightly. Then he turned away and swayed a little, like he was dizzy and walked away from Rodney, who clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from grabbing hold of John again. Instead, Rodney followed John and stood uneasily behind him as John checked over O'Neill.

He jumped at a sound from the door and saw Doctor Lam and a medical team there, uneasily eying John. None of the men with her even had a weapon though, and as they hovered for a bit more, Rodney sighed. "Come on in, he's harmless, really," Rodney said and waved into John's general direction. At the incredulous stares, he rolled his eyes and added, "Unless angered." John didn't even acknowledge them, instead he was running a hand over O'Neill's body. When O'Neill's face scrunched up in discomfort and he blinked a couple of times before he squeezed his eyes shut, Rodney was almost irrationally glad. John got up and then hunched over Jackson and Rodney watched the procedure again with interest, mostly because John looked unsteady to Rodney's eyes. At least this time it didn't take so long and when John had finished, O'Neill had regained his voice.

"For fuck's sake!" O'Neill exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his head and Rodney winced, remembering the thud of O'Neill hitting the floor. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Owens?" He sounded angry and more than just a little annoyed. "Damn it, my head feels like someone stuffed it full of cotton."

Rodney grunted his sympathy, mainly because he really didn't know what to say to that anyway. Instead, he stood closer to John, very deliberately focusing on the back of John's head instead of looking at Owens. The quiet conversation behind him and the moans and pained breathing filled Rodney with a deep satisfaction, though, but he really didn't want to see the man. Not ever again, he was a bastard. He watched as John got up and straightened resolutely before taking a deliberate step away from Jackson, meeting Rodney's eyes. Rodney could see the effort it took John to pull himself together, to appear normal. Saw the weakness as John's eyes flicked around the room, assessing potential threats. With startling clarity, Rodney realized that John wasn't just exhausted, he was dead on his feet, ready to collapse. The only thing that was keeping him upright at that moment was his strength of will and his need to protect Rodney. With that in mind, Rodney cleared his throat. "We'd like to go home now," Rodney said and went to John's side, just in case John's iron will wasn't enough this once.

O'Neill turned towards them from his contemplation of what the medical team was doing to the men recovering around them and Owens in particular. "Yeah, sure. Maybe you'd like to stay the night?" he asked, but Rodney just looked at him, incredulous at the question. O'Neill shrugged and grinned at them, "Or not. Just trying to be polite." He held out a hand and helped Jackson to his feet, who looked worse for wear than O'Neill did.

The way to the gateroom was longer than Rodney remembered it, but maybe that was a trick of the mind because all his attention was drawn by John who kept listing a little bit to the left and gently bumping into Rodney. Something that'd look rather normal to anyone watching, but not to Rodney. They'd known each other well enough and long enough for Rodney to see exactly how badly off John was. He just hoped that the collapse didn't come before they were back home. As if that wasn't enough to worry Rodney, there were the looks of terror John got from everybody they met on the way. "What did you do?" Rodney whispered urgently to John at one point, when a Marine - a mountain of a man - practically fled rather than have John walk past him. John looked at him, a shifty look on his face and Rodney groaned. "Tell me later," he muttered and went back to watching John march next to him with overly precise steps. In a way, he was looking forward to the story, but he also knew he might not like it all that much.

Finally, they reached the gateroom. "Well, why don't you dial out?" Rodney asked, as imperiously as he could, trying to cover his insecurity and his fear. For John. For himself. For Atlantis. Rodney was scared of the future, of what would happen now.

O'Neill looked expectantly at John and when John didn't react at all he cleared his throat and grimaced. "John locked down our 'gate. The techs couldn't get it to work yet. Maybe John could …" and he trailed off, rising his eyebrows in a silent request.

"No more tricks," John said suddenly, his voice echoing unnaturally in the room. He looked at everybody who had come together to watch them leave, until his eyes came to rest on O'Neill and Jackson. He waved at the 'gate with his right hand and it started dialing by itself. "But I'm willing to start over. So when you're ready, we can start negotiating." He frowned deeply, "Not with the IOA, though, I think I'd rather go higher up than that." The wormhole burst out into the room, settling down into the familiar and very welcome rippling pond of blue. John nodded at O'Neill, an odd acknowledgement of respect. He started to turn towards the 'gate, thought better of it and looked once more at O'Neill and Jackson standing in the doorway of the gateroom. His face was blank, but his voice was hard when he said, "If any of you try to do anything like this again, there will be nothing in the universe stopping me from extracting a blood-price, just so you know."

John held a hand out towards Rodney, who - even though he thought it was a stupid thing to do and was properly berating himself for being a push-over - took it. They walked up the ramp together and stepped through the wormhole. Going home.

"No, he's still asleep," was the first thing John heard when he crawled out of the deep pit of exhaustion he'd fallen into. It was Rodney's voice and he sounded annoyed with whomever he was talking to. "And no, I won't give him up to your clutches. He said he was tired and that he needed sleep … are you deaf? I said 'no', how hard is that to understand, Carson? … yes, yes, of course I'll tell you if he doesn't wake up by tomorrow … no, I'm not worried … okay, you do that. McKay, out."

John remembered their arrival in Atlantis, remembered how his city had cradled him to her and then there was nothing but darkness. "Huh," he said, his voice scratchy. It was only then that he realized how thirsty he was.

"John?" Rodney asked anxiously, sounding much closer now. A warm hand touched John's shoulder and Rodney repeated his name.

Clearing his throat was painful. "Water," John rasped. It came out mangled, but Rodney seemed to understand because a moment later a straw touched his lips. After a few pulls he let it fall out of his mouth, taking a deep breath. John's head started to clear. "Thanks, Rodney," he said, already much more aware.

"I was so worried," Rodney whispered, his eyes big in his pale face, with dark rings underneath them, like he hadn't slept in a while. "You just collapsed on the gateroom floor after the wormhole disengaged and I couldn't wake you up." John watched as Rodney reached out and closed his eyes as Rodney ran a finger down John's face. "How are you?"

John listened into himself with a frown before saying, "Still tired." He hesitated over what to say next, but in his weakened state, he could feel Rodney's worry leaking through his shielding and he wanted nothing more than to erase the haunted look from Rodney's eyes. "I overdid it a little. Basically, I used more energy than I should have. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? You nearly died, just to rescue me," Rodney said and John could see how Rodney was fighting tears. "Because I can't take care of myself. It's all my fault, I should have been more careful. If I'd listened to you then none of this would have happened and-"

John put a finger over Rodney's mouth and Rodney stopped talking. If it hadn't been so sad, if would have been funny. Somehow, when it came to John, Rodney tended to lay all fault at his own door. Sometimes John wondered if the people who always accused Rodney of being selfish and egocentric just never happened to witness one of those moments where Rodney took all the blame, or if they just willfully ignored them. Whatever it was, they were wrong. And now Rodney was doing it again. He was blaming himself for what that asshole Owens and the IOA had done. Which was wrong on so many levels John didn't even want to think about it. But he wasn't going to stand by and let that happen. It wasn't true, Rodney had been as much a victim as John himself and it wouldn't do for Rodney to berate himself like that.

"Rodney, I'm exhausted, not on my deathbed. Stop worrying, please. It wasn't your fault, None of it was your fault. I need some sleep and a few good meals and I'll be good as new. The ZPM incident was harder on me than this. Trust me, I'm fine," John murmured as he grabbed Rodney's collar and pulled him down for a brief kiss. Thankfully, Rodney just gave in and let himself be kissed, because John really was still pretty weak and wouldn't have had the strength to wrestle Rodney in. Their lips had barely parted when Rodney huffed.

"Fine? You always say you're fine, even when you've been beaten up and shot at. If you'd been fine you wouldn't have slept for nearly twenty four hours. Atlantis wouldn't still be-"

John kissed Rodney again, longer this time, until Rodney stopped trying to talk into it, stopped struggling. He tugged until Rodney was stretched out on top of him.

"Will you stop doing that?" Rodney asked, fidgeting uneasily. "I'm trying to say something here. I'm trying to tell you how sorry I am and you just won't let me." He sounded tired and frustrated, ashamed and guilty and it broke John's heart to see Rodney reduced to that.

John shook his head, pressing a reassuring kiss onto Rodney's temple. "No, I won't," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault, Rodney. They would've done something different if you hadn't gone to Midway. They'd found another way to get me to Earth. If you want to blame anyone, blame Owens and the IOA. It was their doing, not yours. Even I am more to fault than you. I should have given them an idea of what I can do, maybe then they wouldn't have dared to try and steal you away from me. I was so afraid they'd hurt you."

"But if I had been trained better, if I were a better … fighter … then maybe they wouldn't have been able to take me at all. I'm a liability," Rodney insisted and he looked so frustrated and annoyed with himself that John felt like punching something. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Rodney shouldn't have to feel inadequate just because some asshole had more brawn than brains and had decided force was the answer to everything. Now all of Rodney's insecurities, his lack of self-confidence were coming to the front and John wondered, not for the first time, who had hurt Rodney so damn much that he felt the need to hide behind sarcasm and scathing words. Yes, Rodney was a genius and he told everyone so repeatedly, but underneath that all was a man who constantly second guessed himself. John had no idea why no one saw that, besides John himself. It was quite obvious if one cared enough to look.

And right now Rodney was in a really bad place.

"I am glad you didn't try to fight, Rodney. Owens is batshit insane, there's no telling what he would have done if you had refused him. You saw what he's capable of. The thought of him drawing his weapon on you, shooting you, and I'm not there to rescue you … I'd have killed them, Rodney. Screw the mission, screw relations with Earth, if they'd harmed you, if he'd killed you, I would have destroyed them. The whole SGC, IOA and their pathetic little project. I was sorely tempted to shut down the Earth gate as it was," John confessed, pulling Rodney tighter against his body. It was crazy how much he loved that man. What he'd do to keep Rodney safe.

"You what?" Rodney asked, his head snapping up from where it had lain on John's chest, to look John in the eyes. There was a look between awe and horror on his face and John cringed inwardly.

"Well … I've told you that I'm outside the rules. Did you honestly think they could kidnap you and not face the consequences? That I'd let them get away with hurting you? I told you that we don't love easily and … you're it for me. And if I remember right, Oniph and the others approve of you. I'm not so sure about that bit, actually, everything went a bit hazy after Owens grabbed you," John said sheepishly and Rodney blinked at him, apparently completely lost for words.

When he didn't find his speech after a few seconds and just laid back down, John sighed a little. "Listen, Rodney, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to go all evil overlord on them, rubbing it in their faces how young and stupid they are compared to me. I just … lost it when they took you, alright? Everything just got completely out of hand when they threatened you," John went on, slightly worried about Rodney's silence. He hugged Rodney tighter to his chest, enjoying the feel and weight of Rodney's solid body on his own. "But I didn't hurt them. Not until Owens tried to kill you. I just want them to leave us be and let me do my job." John could hear the tiredness in his own voice but couldn't do anything about it. He really was sick and tired of all of this.

"You would have killed them if they'd hurt me," Rodney said quietly and there still was stunned disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, Rodney. Yes, I would have," John agreed just as quietly. He wasn't proud of the way he had handled the situation on Earth, his kind was known for better self control, but when it came to Rodney, all bets were off. John had done what needed to be done to keep Rodney safe and he would never regret that. Rodney was the one person John would do anything for. Anything at all.

"I never quite saw myself as the damsel in distress to your knight in shining armor - because I'm not," Rodney said, his tone light and teasing, completely at odds with the residual tension John could still feel in his shoulders, "but I certainly have no objections to you coming to my rescue. Maybe you could try to be as un-knightly as possible though?"

John sighed and tried to say something, but Rodney lifted his head again and beat him to it. "No," he said. "No, John, really. It's okay. I mean I'd prefer they hadn't kidnapped me in the first place, but you came and got me out. You didn't blow up the base or kill Owens no matter how much you wanted to. That's a plus. So really. I'm fine. You got me out. And I know you'll always come for me, so really. It's okay. I … I can live with that."

"I'm glad you think that way, Rodney," John said honestly. "Because as much as I'd like it to be otherwise, I don't think it's something I can change. This whole 'being in love' thing is a lot harder on my self-control than I figured it'd be. But that's alright. I'd rather be in love with you than have my old life back." And it was, John hadn't known what he'd been missing, back in his days as Tural. But now he knew, knew what it was like to love someone so much if hurt. And John didn't want to give up that feeling for anything.

It was weird how, here in bed, with Rodney on top of him, recovering from a more than unpleasant situation, John felt comfortable enough, secure enough to voice his feelings like this. The words that usually were so hard to say, the feelings he couldn't put into words at all, were spilling out of him almost on their own.

Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that he had almost lost Rodney for the second time in two weeks. John just knew he needed to say the words, needed to tell Rodney how he felt before the chance was lost and Rodney might never know. Rodney deserved to hear the words, not just be content with the brief look at John's feelings that he had gotten when John had pushed them at him on their very first night together.

"Alright, that's quite enough for now, Colonel. Being exhausted makes you mushy and we can't have that. It'll ruin your reputation," Rodney said and John could hear fond exasperation in Rodney's voice and how much John's words must have meant to Rodney. "Go back to sleep. I'll hold off Carson a little longer if I need to," Rodney murmured then, snuggling up closer to John. "He's wanted to get his hands on you since we came back through the 'gate. Not that he can do much scanning or testing at the moment. At least not until you give Atlantis back to us." Rodney paused for a heartbeat then he asked, "You will give her back to us, won't you?"

John didn't like the hint of insecurity in Rodney's tone. "Yes, Rodney," John assured him, "I'll unlock her again. Your scientists will get all their shiny toys back and Cason can poke and prod me to his heart's content. But you're right - I definitely need more sleep before that."

Rodney huffed and John could feel him already drifting off, so he closed his eyes and went to sleep as well.

The End.