Ancient Blood (2/4) (SGA/HP)

[mhalachai]

Ancient Blood (2/4)
A Stargate Atlantis/Harry Potter story

Summary: Just as he thinks he's settled into his new life at Atlantis, everything in John's life starts to fall apart again.
Rating: R overall for for swearing, sexual themes and situations, nudity, gory imagery, overdone plot angles. This part is PG-13 for John's swearing.
Disclaimer: Sony and MGM own all things Stargate Atlantis. J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter. I'm only borrowing and will return them at the end of the fic.
Spoilers: General season two for SGA; Half-Blood Prince for HP.
Pairings: My new OTP, John/Atlantis, and some mildly dysfunctional John/Teyla. (And when I say mildly I mean very).
Word count:: 12,056 for parts one and two. Complete
Note: What you need to know if you haven't read Songs Across the Ocean: Harry Potter is John Sheppard.

Sequel to Songs Across the Ocean

Part One ~~ Part Two ~~ Part Three ~~ Part Four

~~~

"Colonel Sheppard," Dr. Zelenka said in greeting as John walked into the labs.

"Hey, Doc." John continued over to Rodney's desk, where the astrophysicist was bent double over a machine. “Morning, Rodney."

"Sheppard." McKay didn't look up from his readings. "Did Beckett talk to you?"

"Looking for Teyla? Yeah, she's down there now." John rubbed at his chin. He'd made himself shave, and his face felt a little weird, like it always did with a hangover. "You got any coffee?"

McKay finally glanced up. He looked at Sheppard for a long moment, and something shifted in his eyes. "The cafeteria has coffee."

"You guys make it better." What the hell was wrong with Rodney?

"We're working here, Colonel, perhaps you can go find someone else to pester," Rodney snapped. He picked up his datapad and his coffee mug, and stalked deeper into the lab.

Baffled, John looked over at Zelenka. The scientist looked vaguely apologetic. "I guess that means no coffee," John tried to joke.

Zelenka shrugged. "You should adjust your shirt before going to cafeteria," he advised, and pointed at his throat before following Rodney.

My shirt? John blinked for a moment, then a horrible thought occurred to him. He turned and headed toward the door, where the scientists had stored a large mirror.

Sure enough, peeking out from under the edge of his t-shirt neck, was a purple-red mark. Teyla gave me a hickey. John wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Oh God! Suddenly, Rodney's anger made sense. He saw the hickey, and I said Teyla was with Beckett and no one could find her last night...

Crying was probably the way to go.

John left the labs, found a deserted hallway, and banged his forehead against the wall a few times. Why do I always find a way to perfectly fuck up my life?

~~~

Three days later, John had discovered that not only was Rodney still pissed at him, but Beckett shot him angry glares every time they passed, Teyla was avoiding him, and his strength level wasn't anywhere near it had been before Atlantis ripped into him to save Teyla's life.

On the upside, the scientists had a fun new life-saving toy to play with.

On the whole, John felt like he'd gotten the raw end of the deal.

John spent a lot more time with Major Lorne and the Marines, running over training schedules and duty rosters and team assignments. One thing he'd learned from Hogwarts and its House system was that if people worked in the same groups too long, rivalries began to develop. He wasn't going to have that happen under his watch.

On the fifth day, John showed up at Elizabeth's office, new duty roster in hand. She waved him in while she finished typing on her laptop. John took the opportunity to slouch in the chair, resisting the urge to close his eyes. No matter how much sleep he got, or how much food he ate, he felt dragged out.

"What can I do for you, John?" Elizabeth asked, closing her computer.

John pushed himself up with a sigh. "New duty roster for the Marines," he said, handing it to her. "I was thinking about testing it out next week, then if it works, putting it into effect in about a month. Maybe take a look, see if you have any feedback."

"The military is your responsibility," Elizabeth reminded him as she looked down the list.

John rolled his eyes. "You sound like Colonel Caldwell," he said. "You know the scientists, I know the Marines. Just let me know if you see any potential personnel conflicts."

"I will. Thanks."

John shrugged and pushed himself out of the chair. "Right."

"John?" Elizabeth said before he could leave. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

No. "What do you want?" he asked, sitting back down with a thump.

Elizabeth folded her hands together in front of her on the desk, something she only did when she was nervous about something and didn't want to show it. John's heart sank. "I've noticed a bit of friction among your team in the last few days," she said carefully. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

"John--"

"It's little stuff, Elizabeth," John lied. "You know, near-death stuff."

"That's not little."

"But it's our problem. We'll handle it."

Elizabeth looked at him. John fought the urge to squirm in his chair. She had a way of looking at him that made him wonder if she could read his mind. Near enough; she had a preternaturally keen sense of what was happening on the base. "Will you handle it in a few days?" she asked.

"Maybe," John said slowly. "Why?"

Elizabeth smiled, which in itself wasn't all that interesting, but what came next was. "Ronon and I have been discussing his time Running from the Wraith, and he recently recalled a planet with ruins that he suspects might be Ancient in origin."

It took all of John's restraint to not raise his eyebrows at Elizabeth. What he wanted to ask was, How did you get Ronon talking? but instead he said, "What kind of ruins?"

"His memory wasn't clear; it was several years ago." Elizabeth leaned forward. "But he does remember writing in Ancient, and several things of interest."

"Do any of these items of interest include a ZPM?" John had to ask.

"Nothing quite so definite," Elizabeth said with a smile. "But I'd like you to take your team and check out the area, if it's safe for us to send through the anthropology team to look things over."

"When?" John asked, glancing down at his notes. He had scheduled several interviews with some Marines, but he could delay those a little. Or maybe move them up. Or get them out of bed. He wasn't above a bit of Marine character building.

"Would you be able to wrap up any problems by tomorrow?"

"Elizabeth, we haven't got problems, we--"

"John?" Elizabeth gave him a look. "Whatever it is, fix it."

Pushing down a wave of frustration, John nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Before she could ask anything else of him, he left.

Frustrating woman, John thought. Why hadn't she come out and said what she wanted him to do? Diplomacy didn't work well with him. He was more point and shoot.

Speaking of shooting things, Ronon was coming up the Gateroom stairs. "Sheppard."

"Ronon," John said, moving on. Ronon walked with him. "I hear you're telling Elizabeth your life story?"

"Like you ever asked." Ronon shook his head, dreadlocks flying. "She listens."

John bit back a groan. The last thing he needed was one of his team members and the leader of the expedition making googley eyes at each other over the briefing-room table. "Yes, she does," he said vaguely.

"Yeah. Anyway, we going?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Because you look like crap."

John stopped and stared at Ronon. "What?"

"Ever since Teyla got hurt, you've looked bad." Ronon propped himself up against a handy wall. "Why?"

"I'm fine," John said shortly. "Let's have a briefing in five hours to talk about this planet."

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not taking you to this place if you're sick," Ronon said. "You're too heavy to carry back to the Gate."

"You sonofa--"

"You're the only one Beckett didn't see after Teyla's accident," Ronon said, pushing off the wall. "If he says you can go, we go."

"What the hell gives you--"

"See you later," Ronon interrupted, walking away.

John breathed in through his nose, trying to avoid screaming at Ronon down the crowded hall. What gave the laconic man the right to tell him he looked like shit? John was the team leader here, not Ronon.

The really sad thing was that John wasn't running after him. I must be feeling worse than I thought.

And if he went to talk to Beckett, maybe he could get something for his perpetual headache.

Damn it.

~~~

"Why the bloody hell didn't you come to see me before?" Beckett demanded, stalking about the infirmary. "You're borderline anemic, you've got a potassium deficiency, and let's not even go into your metabolism!"

John shrugged. "It's not that bad. Right?"

Beckett glared, as if John had done all this to spite his doctor. "You're still functioning fine, barely." He pulled vials from the wall and set them on a tray. "But it's no wonder you feel like crap!"

"I wouldn't go that far--"

"That's what you said to the nurse, and I quote, 'I feel like crap'," Beckett shot at him, bringing out a needle. "All right, when did it start?"

"When did what start?"

Beckett pointed the needle at him. "You know damned well what."

John really didn't want the man to be pissed when he approached with pointy things, so he gave in. "The day Teyla got hurt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. What's that?"

"An injectable vitamin," Beckett said. "And you need to eat better, I'll give you a diet plan." He expertly administered the vitamin shot. "Can you tell me what you did that day that did this?"

"What, besides having the city suck energy out of me to heal Teyla?" John asked, wrinkling his nose at the needle.

"What did you say?"

John raised an eyebrow as he pushed some gauze against the needle mark. "I told you about this."

"No you didn't, son. Start from the beginning."

John knew better than to argue with the Doc when he was in this mood. "When the beam hit us in the Gateroom, it felt like it ripped something out of me when Atlantis healed Teyla."

"Then what?"

"Then I've just been kind of slow ever since. It's nothing. I've had worse."

"It's not nothing," Beckett said. "What did you do that night, after you left the infirmary?"

John suddenly became very interested in the gauze. "Nothing much."

Becket shook his head. "Anything you tell me will be kept in confidence."

"No."

"Colonel, I'm not clearing you for duty until you tell me what happened that day." From the expression on the doctor's face, he meant it.

Goddamn it. John looked around, making sure no one else was within earshot. "Not much. I just, um, kind of freaked out and threw up. And had a cold shower." He went back to the gauze. "And got drunk and had sex and slept on a floor," he muttered.

Beckett pinched his lips together, like he wanted to bury his face in his hands, but he was too professional. "Do you try to make my life complicated?"

"Believe me when I say you were the furthest thing from my mind!" John exclaimed quietly.

Beckett shook his head. "Are your symptoms getting any worse?"

"No, it's a bit better."

"Fine." Beckett scribbled something on a pad of paper and handed a slip to John. "Eat this, get enough sleep, and come back to see me tomorrow. If you're looking better, I might clear you to go on this mission of Ronon's."

"Does everybody but me know about these ruins but me?" John demanded, reading the prescription.

"Yes. Now, unless you want me to strap you to a bed for some sleep, get out of my infirmary."

John stuffed the paper into his pocket. "What's your problem?"

"I have work to do."

"Is this about Teyla?"

Beckett sighed. "The two of you are adults."

"Yes, we are."

"And you're both bloody stubborn and annoying."

"Hey!"

"Look, Colonel, if my suspicious are right, then you were physiologically affected by that beam as well," Becket said. "You, negatively, while Teyla was healed. We know the Goa'uld sarcophagus affects the mind with repeated usage."

"That's not it," John told him. "That's not why-- That's not it."

"It might be." Becket made shooing motions with his hands. "Go eat. Come back tomorrow."

"Fine." John hopped off the bed, and didn't even sway. "Bye."

Just because he had been hit by that beam didn't mean everyone else in the city had to go crazy.

~~~

"Apple?"

Teyla looked up from her lunch. "That is not an apple."

John looked at it. "It's sort of apple-shaped."

"Do you want something?"

He slid into the seat across from her. "Yeah. Listen, we need to talk."

Was it his imagination, or did she blush? He didn't have time to ask, because she deliberately laid down her fork and pushed her lunch away. "Yes, we do."

"Right."

"Indeed."

They sat there for a few minutes, letting the sounds of the cafeteria wash over them. Then they both tried to speak at once.

"I am sorry," Teyla said, looking down at her hands.

"No, please go ahead," John said. This was turning into a bad comedy sketch, and he really didn't have the time or the energy. He needed to talk to Teyla, deal with Rodney, browbeat Ronon, yell at several Marines, and then maybe, maybe, get some sleep. He was tired just thinking about it.

"Thank you." Teyla drew a deep breath, then raised her gaze. "I need to apologize."

"You-- What?" Damn it, she was blushing. She looked downright mortified, and John had no idea why.

"I need to apologize for my... behavior, that night." Her word were deliberate, as if she'd practiced this little speech several times. "I was... overwrought, with all that had occurred, and I took liberties with our friendship and your inebriation."

It wasn't funny, but John felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest. He ruthlessly shoved it down. Teyla might kill him if he started laughing now. "You really don't have to apologize--"

"Yes, I do."

"No," John said firmly. "You really don't." He leaned across the table so he could speak quietly. "I was coming over here to see if there was anything I could do to, you know, make us okay."

She stared at him for a long moment. "I think the best way to make us 'okay' would be to put this behind us and never discuss this again. Ever again."

"Deal."

Teyla smiled faintly and returned to her lunch tray. "Has Ronon spoken to you about his proposed mission?"

John rolled his eyes. "Is there anyone who doesn't know about this plan?"

"I believe that one of the chemists has been in the infirmary who does not know," Teyla said, spearing a small vegetable with her fork. "Dr. Weir has been very vocal about her enthusiasm for the mission."

John chose to let the more disturbing aspects of that sentence fly over his head. "So, rocks."

"Yes." Teyla smiled again. "You should tell Dr. McKay about the observation room."

The change of topic was a little too much for John. "Why?"

"Because it would be of great interest to him, you know how he is about the city."

"He's pretty busy these days." John tried to deflect Teyla's statement, uncomfortable with the sensation settling in his gut.

Teyla's smile turned to a frown. "Too busy for this?"

"You know how Rodney is." John realized with a shock that he was jealous. Of Rodney, putting his busy hands on Atlantis's inner workings. I need some serious help.

"I do." Teyla glared at John. "You must tell him of this."

"I will," John said defensively.

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she didn't believe him.

"I will. Hey, how's things on the mainland?"

As distractions went, John knew she didn't fall for it, but still, she told him a story about how Jinto and his friend Wex had single-handedly built a fishing weir. The story was silly and light, and it gave John the tiniest bit of hope that he hadn't destroyed everything between them after all.

~~~

By comparison, the conversation with Rodney was a fucking disaster.

"Go away!"

"I can't go away, you jerk!" To illustrate his point, John sat his butt down in Rodney's work chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "We have to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you!" Rodney went back to work on his machine, and John started counting down from ten in his head. When he got to one, Rodney spun up and around. "How could you?"

"How could I what?" John asked in resignation. He was really, really glad that the lab was devoid of an audience.

Rodney waved his hands in the air. "Do that thing with Teyla?"

John narrowed his eyes. "What. Thing?" he said carefully.

"Oh, don't sit there and be all scary Air Force glowery at me," Rodney snapped. "You know damned well what I'm talking about!"

John counted to ten, then to twenty. When that failed to calm him down, he spoke anyway. "I'm only going to say this once. First off, it's none of your business. Second, Teyla and I have talked about this and come to an understanding, so it's not an issue. Do you understand?"

Rodney shook his head. "She almost died," he said after a minute, and there was something so unfamiliar in his voice that it took John a moment to realize what it was. Fear. "We almost... she almost died, and you shouldn't have done what you did."

Since John didn't disagree with Rodney, there was nothing he could say. So he left.

~~~

A day later, as John used the Jumper to dial up Ronon's world of ruins, Rodney and Teyla sat in the back flight chairs in a glowering silence. John tried to ignore them as the Jumper lowered into the Gateroom, but finally the silence became too much for him to deal with. Beckett had given him a clean bill of health, with the warning of no undue stress to his system, and Elizabeth had sent them on their way.

"Okay, fuck it." John held the Jumper in place before the open Stargate and turned around in his chair. "Are we going to be okay?" he asked Rodney and Teyla.

Teyla, who was pissed that John had not yet told Rodney about the Atlantis power room, raised her chin. "Perfectly fine," she bit out.

"Bullshit," John exclaimed. "Are we going to go through that Gate and be able to deal with whatever serious and fucked-up dangers we find? Because if not, I'm turning this Jumper around until we can sort out this mess."

Rodney and Teyla exchanged glances. John wasn't too sure if they knew why the other was mad, and he really didn't want to be around when Rodney tried to explain to Teyla he was trying to protect her virtue. Then Teyla shook her head. "I am willing to do that."

"Me too," Rodney said quickly. "Let's go."

John raised his eyebrows. Turning back to the front, he saw Ronon giving them all the 'those wacky Earthlings' look. "What about you?"

"I'm good."

"Jumper One," Elizabeth's voice came over their headsets. "Is there a problem?"

"Nah," John said, taking the controls again. "Just had to make sure Rodney brought enough gum for everyone. See you in a bit."

"Be safe," Elizabeth said, just as she did before every mission, and John flew the Jumper through the Gate.

"Trees," Rodney said dispiritedly when they shot out of the Gate on the other side. "It's always trees. Why is it always trees?"

"Come on, Rodney, trees are pretty," John said, pulling up the scanner.

"Pretty full of pollen. Alien pollen. Freaky alien trees wanting to have sex with our eyes."

Ronon made a choking sound. John faked a gag. "God, Rodney, can you be any grosser?" He looked over at Ronon. "Quick, tell me where to go."

"I can tell you where to go," Rodney grumbled, but it was quiet enough that John could pretend he didn't hear.

"Three tarlaks that way," Ronon said, pointing. John did the conversion from Satedan measurement to imperial, and came up with six miles. "There is a rise in the cliff face, with some flat space to leave the ship."

"I see it," John muttered. He scanned the area for ships, but there was no sign of anything unusual. "Looks like the Wraith aren't here."

"Looks like," Ronon agreed. "When I was here before, there were no humans I could find."

"How long did it take the Wraith to find you here?" Teyla asked from the backseat.

Ronon stared out the window, expressionless. "Four days," he finally said.

Four days. Seven years on the run from the Wraith, after having his home world destroyed. Fuck. And I was freaking out because I had to fight Voldemort for seven years, John thought. At least he'd had some good times in those years. First kiss, good friends, a chance to be normal, if only for a little while. He hadn't had to sleep with one eye open all that time.

"It's over there." Ronon pointed down at a tiny clearing beside a sloping stone hill.

"Okay." John touched the Jumper down in the space, branches brushing the sides of the ship as they landed. "Gear up, everyone. We're looking for all kinds of threats, dangers, anything that might eat the archeologists."

"Or us."

"Or us, Rodney." John set the cloak over the ship, and was the last to leave. His team was already standing outside, armed to the teeth and ready for anything. "Everybody remember where we parked."

"That wasn't funny when Kirk did it in Star Trek IV," Rodney groused as he hurried to keep up with Ronon.

"Yeah, but I've got better hair," John quipped back.

"And we are not looking for whales," Teyla added. Rodney and John both turned around to look at her, John's eyes bugging out. "What? Major Lorne brought the movies with him from Earth."

"Major Lorne is into Star Trek?" Rodney asked, incredulous.

"Colonel O'Neill suggested it," Teyla said, and nodded ahead of them. "We are going to lose Ronon."

Further over the ridge, Ronon was already halfway up the hill. "Fine," John said. "Ladies first."

Teyla's eyebrow went up. "For what purpose?"

"Because..." John's voice trailed off. Saying 'because you're a girl' would get his ass kicked, and going for the injury angle would lead them back to subject better left in the past. "Because I'm team leader and I should be in the back."

"Yes, you are team leader, but that means you should be in the middle, in case of an emergency," Teyla replied, anger heating her words.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Rodney exclaimed. "Can't you two fight about this later?"

John and Teyla looked at Rodney, then at each other. John could tell the same thing occurred to Teyla. "Fine, Rodney." John clapped a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "You can bring up the rear." He and Teyla started walking.

"What? No! That's not what I meant!"

~~~

"That... wasn't... fair."

"If you stop talking, Rodney, you'll get your breath back faster," John advised, hauling Rodney up the last few steps into the cave. "It's not like Teyla or I would have let anything eat you."

Rodney panted and raised wide eyes to Teyla. She took pity on him, as she always did when he was inches away from hyperventilating. "We would have ensured your safety, Dr. McKay."

"Good!" Rodney puffed. "Great."

John thumped Rodney on the back in a friendly manner, then glanced down as his life signs detector. Only the four of them. "Hey, Ronon, where are these ruins?"

"In here," Ronon's disembodied voice drew them deeper into the cave.

"That's interesting," Rodney said.

"Define interesting," Teyla asked, the light from her P-90 sweeping the cave floor.

"Oh God, oh God, we're all going to die?" John said.

"Would you stop quoting science fiction movies?" Rodney demanded. "I mean there are residual power readings coming from somewhere in this cave."

"How powerful?" John asked him. There was something pricking at the back of his head, something he should know. It wasn't the power Atlantis gave off, it was different, older.

It made him want to run.

"I can't tell you that, not until we find the source. It might be shielded."

"Over here," Ronon said. His voice led them toward a large crack in the wall. Rodney went first, then Teyla. John shone his light back the way they had come, illuminating their footprints on the dusty floor.

"This is amazing!" Rodney exclaimed.

John turned to ask him what was so neat. As he moved his foot, he stepped over a magical circle of protection, the spell tingling up through his body as his flashlight swept over the Celtic runes inscribed in the floor and the walls, all the way up to the ceiling.

He forgot how to breathe, to react, anything, as his flashlight came to rest on an ancient stone archway, cracked and crumbling. The tattered black veil that hung over the unsupported archway fluttered very slightly in the still air of the cave, as if it had just been touched.

Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock..

It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil handing from the arch.

"No."

next chapter

Comments

[in-the-bottle.livejournal.com]

Duuuude! Where's part 3?!?!?!?!?

[mhalachaiswords.livejournal.com]

In my BRAAAAAIN. The only reason this installment was 2 parts was because I went over the LJ post limit of 64kb. I plan to work on the next part tonight and tomorrow, for being done soon. I know I won't be able to work on Inevitable until this is done. The two Harrys get mixed up in my BRAAAAAIN.

I totally need a zombie brain-eating icon