Fic: Fallout
Recipient: kajikia
Title: Fallout
Author: Sian1359
Rating: Adults Only (NC17) for explicit sex and violence
Category: Slash; Action/Adventure; H/C (big surprise there for those who know me ;-)
Spoilers: Takes place right after Epiphany
Pairing(s): Team OT4
Warnings: Here be a boy liking boys and girls (slash and mild het content)
Apologies: I didn't give my beta editor extraordinaire the time to do her job
Summary: Secrets never stay hidden forever
Kaijikia wanted: Teyla has to fight gladiator-style to protect the lives/virtue of her teammates (gen or OT4); Ronon goes back to Sateda with Rodney, Teyla, and Sheppard; gen team-fic or hook Ronon up with one (or more) of his teammates; or a mission/day-in-the-life of one of the "lower-echelon" teams;
One thing you don't want to write: Carson
Well, definitely I didn't write about a 'lower echelon' team. As for the rest… maybe?
Now
I'd long ago given up the idea of ever seeing my birthworld again. Sateda had managed to hold out longer than most worlds, but we'd all grown up knowing the Wraith would come and that all we'd hoped and achieved could be taken away in the sweep of a culling beam or from a hand slamming into your chest to suck away your lifeforce. When our turn had come I'd been prepared, and my only true regret had come from not having the opportunity to insure that the one who'd betrayed us had come to his own end.
Preferably by my hand.
Except I didn't die either. Instead, I was violated and altered, stripped of everything I had known and desired, and then set loose. Not out of compassion, but for sport and as a means to train Wraith drones in the ways of the hunt. Instead of stealing my years and my life, they took away my world and my humanity. My needs became simple: weapons, food, shelter. Survival so that I could kill as many Wraith as I could manage before my luck and blood ran dry.
Except neither did. Instead, I survived for seven years as a Runner. I survived by honing my skills and my hatreds. I survived until my own reputation was as fearsome to the Wraith as theirs had been to my people. I survived until I became the hunter.
I no longer had any history or friends, but also no obligations or responsibilities. I had only purpose. Eventually I no longer even dreamt of returning to the life I had known -- or of finding a new one. I lived in the moment. For the moment. My sole reason to continue was a perverse game of hide and seek, fueled by ego and vengeance; the need only to outlast those who came after me and to teach them to regret that they had ever found me.
In this I found a sort of contentment.
Until I was then found by somebody other than the Wraith. Found by those who'd come to live in the long abandoned City of the Ancestors. Suddenly I was given hope again. Hope and a home. A future. In exchange I was only expected to interact, to become human again. Making a place with them wasn't comfortable, but neither was it all that difficult. The Lanteans were friendly, probably too trusting, but I had begun to find my way again.
In exchange, all I had to do was care.
Two Days Ago
"Thank you for joining us."
Weir's strange. She says something like that every single damn time. As if my coming to her meetings was something special. As if it wasn't expected. Not mandatory, no, because even Sheppard doesn't really give orders despite being the Military Commander of the Atlantis Base and so my commander -- my new Task Master.
Despite there only being four on the squad, despite our squad being called an offworld gate-team -- despite Sheppard being nothing like Kell.
I nod, first to show Weir the proper respect, and then again to the others who have stayed after their larger meeting. Any time a team is considering going through the Gate of the Ancestors to a new planet, Teyla and I get invited to participate in the mission planning even when it's not our team that is scheduled. Teyla and I are their native guides and, while the Lanteans don't understand a lot of things about how life is here in the Pegasus Galaxy, they do know enough to realize the technological advances they brought with them won't always be enough.
I'm still learning how different a place it is where the Lanteans came from. Not just their technology, but their governments, religions, even the way they think. Especially the way their military thinks. In some ways they are entirely too lenient, allowing the other Squad Masters to question orders and try to refuse their duty. At first I thought it was Sheppard's fault, and had wondered what I was doing staying on here. He gives orders rarely and when he does, he makes it sound like suggestions, or even worse, a plea. There are no harsh demands, no absolute discipline, and the boundaries between ranks seem to exist only when someone remembers.
Except I have also seen the way the soldiers listen to Sheppard and all the things not being said. They way they look -- and see a man who asks nothing of them that he would not and has not done himself. He has earned their respect and their loyalty by his actions and ways that have nothing to do with his rank of command over them. He has earned and been given their trust, in part because he gives them his trust, respect and loyalty in return. Sheppard is squadmate as well as Squad Master … Task Master too, and even Battle Master when Caldwell isn't around.
On Sateda ranking is everything. You are a soldier or civilian; protector or protected, and all else is subdivided into specializations. Your path is fixed as soon as you choose, your studies and training then fitted to your choice. Mistakes are made, and not everyone chooses wisely, but even then the rigid structure brings its own comfort by providing the framework and patterns of what is expected from you. You fail only when you don't try.
Or when you betray your path.
I take the open seat next to McKay; it's still warm from one of those who have just left. Probably Zelenka, since he's McKay's second, or maybe Lorne because he's Sheppard's second, and Teyla and McKay have this time taken the seats to either side of Sheppard, leaving no room for someone else to get close. Usually, McKay and Sheppard sit across from one another, in part to keep certain speculations from growing, but mainly so they can exchange eye rolls and crooked smiles when it is not their time to be serious.
This time, though, McKay's chair is even closer to Sheppard's than Teyla's is, although both have encroached on what Dr. Heightmeyer calls the accepted boundaries of personal space. I might have worried, had I not shifted my own chair closer to McKay, only realizing it and having a moment's concern after I'd already done it.
We were all still feeling a little overprotective, and with the four of us now all right next to each other, Weir's alone on the other side of a table that can seat up to fifteen. She seems to understand -- at least what we're showing on the surface -- and if it bothers her to be treated like an instructor, she doesn't let it show.
I'm still not convinced Weir is really anything but a tolerated administrator. Or whether she can make the hard decisions the Law Makers must. But she's generally quiet, pretty to look at, and pretty much ignores me except during these briefings. And during the weird Lantean social events.
Soldiers don't interact very often with the leaders, not even the Specialists --and never in a social setting. We and the Squad Masters report to the Task Masters, who in turn report to their Battle Masters. It is only the Battle Masters who need suffer the patronage or interference from the Law Makers.
"Carson has assured me that you've all been cleared for full active duty again, but if any of you still feel you need a little more time …" Weir gives a small shrug to her shoulders and at least has the grace to look a little embarrassed from what she's said. We'd been cleared -- all of us. I knew even McKay was getting anxious to be doing something other than playing with his ever-present laptop even when he was supposed to be engaging in downtime. Sheppard, Teyla and I are all active, physical people, especially when compared to McKay, but our soft scientist is the one who often has the worst time dealing with mandatory rest breaks or restricted duty.
"We've been cleared, and our team is still up since that last mission was … a bust," came from Sheppard along with one of his easy grins, although this one didn't quite reach his eyes. His words were more reassurement than argument. Maybe a bit forced, but Weir either didn't notice or was again not letting her reaction show.
A 'bust'. I didn't get the reference, but understood the context and yeah, busted sounded about right. By the end of the mission, the four of us had collectively incurred little more than a few physical bruises from the Unseen Beast -- the Creature of the Id as McKay had called it. Sheppard had been hurt worse in the beginning, I figured, but he hadn't actually said, and he'd had plenty of time to heal.
Which was the real problem.
Sheppard had had six months of time to get hurt, healed, and decide that he'd been abandoned. He understood now that his six months had been less than a day for us. But understanding and accepting was not the same thing. Just as the rest of us were dealing with guilt over something that had been completely out of our control. Team unity had been broken physically as well as mentally, and it was the emotional damage that had had us grounded and stuck -- individually and all together -- with having to have Dr. Heightmeyer clear us for duty in addition to Beckett.
I understood the importance of mind healers; soldiers had to be all manner of fit lest they become a danger to the mission or their squadmates. But the mind healers on Sateda understood it was those squadmates and not words that really put you together again.
Weir nodded to Sheppard's expected response, keeping silent for another few seconds to allow someone else to add more (for McKay to complain), but then gave another brisk nod while she stood and walked toward us to hand out some papers. "The linguists and historians have managed to come up with some new gate addresses in comparing the datalogs you managed to retrieve from the Aurora with the Ancient's database here in Atlantis."
We could have simply shared one or two of the sheets, as close as we'd ended up moving our chairs next to one another.
"Not all of the names had corresponding gate addresses," she was continued as she made her way back to her chair. "So it's always possible we've also picked up people names, or maybe even the names of more ships since we've not had a chance to translate all of the contextual words around the names."
Had I actually been able to read their language, it would have been nice for information beyond just a name and an address, but still Weir shouldn't have sounded so apologetic. Vague apologies weren't right for any type of leader, especially not for something that had been the responsibility of other people.
On the other hand, I suspected that even Kell would have been making excuses for incomplete or incorrect intel if someone like McKay had been there to review it.
No, actually Kell would have shot McKay the first time Atlantis' Chief Scientist had whined about or questioned any of the Task Master's mission specs. Not that McKay would have been allowed on a squad. Had we had someone as smart as McKay on Sateda he would have been spending his days teaching or conducting his research, not wasted in field work (except here, he wasn't wasted, he was essential and I still wasn't quite sure how -- why -- that worked).
On Sateda it would have been up to one of his seconds to advise the Law Makers and Battle Masters of what someone like McKay knew.
The Scholar, the Technician and the Artist are the people most treasured on Sateda, for their knowledge and gifts are the most uncommon, and they are the ones who give our world its uniqueness. They are -- were -- the ones who preserved our past and created a future. The ones that gave reason beyond simply duty for the Soldier, the Merchant and the Administrator to protect, supply and govern.
"Teyla, Ronon, I don't suppose either of you recognize any of them?"
Teyla has learned to read the Lantean's language better than I have, but then she's also had a year more to study it. Weir's list, though, had the names in her English, in Ancient, and in a phonetic pronunciation. In addition to the symbols of their gate addresses.
I thought I recognized a couple of the names, but I paused to let Teyla speak first. Only one of those three worlds would be a place where the Lanteans might find something worthwhile. But Comru is also a world I'd only been to twice during the earliest years after my initial learning, and thus was never in charge or responsible in keeping track of what had happened during our visits. All I really remembered was that it had been a place of as many dangers as it had had delights.
Like the Genii, Sateda had once been the crown of an alliance of worlds; it's armies on call to render aid or vengeance for those who looked to our lead. As such it was part of the duty of every soldier to spend time off world, to grow accustom to the differences to be found in rule and law as well as in duty and desire. Comru played host and instructor to many a fledgling squad, just as the fleshpots there played host to many a fledgling soldier.
I was old and experienced enough to navigate its temptations now -- assuming it was still the meeting ground for many worlds and peoples as it had once been. Assuming it was still untouched by the Wraith. It had been a place of great trading and technology, a place I might have mentioned had I ever known its gate address in the first place after I'd learned that the Lanteans had started their mission here in Atlantis cut off from their world with no hope of returning or even making contact and so now continued to explore the possibilities of trade and allies.
Weir called it 'hedging their bets' against a time when the Daedelus didn't arrive as expected; Sheppard, a prudent subterfuge since they didn't want anyone to know about the ship -- or that Atlantis had survived the recent Wraith siege. Continuing to trade for food and other common goods made sense even more for Teyla's people. Political machinations had come hand in hand on the Daedelus with the resupplies and new people. Sheppard had already talked to Teyla and me about what might happen to us should the Lanteans be ordered to abandon Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy to return home.
Teyla shook her head after reviewing the list a couple of times. "I am sorry; Dr. Weir, but I recognize none of these names."
"If we're going to pick some place random for tomorrow's mission, maybe it shouldn't be one of the worlds the Ancients like, recommended?" McKay spoke up before I could offer a different response from Teyla's. "Surely we haven't checked out all the addresses we've collected from the daisy chain of Athos to Hoff to Dagan to Thenora to Olesia to wherever they provided next? Okay, well maybe we don’t want to visit any of their friends either -- well, the Athosian ones are okay, of course, but surely we still have a few worlds to explore were the people won't try to drug us or steal from us or feed us to the Wraith?"
Weir looked confused at McKay's opposition, but then her eyes shot to Sheppard and her face softened as she acknowledged McKay's roundabout reference to the opening parameters to our last mission, the address having come straight out of the Atlantis database. It was probably a good thing Sheppard was too busy scowling in McKay's direction and so missed that momentary display of sympathy from her. It was also probably a good thing Weir didn't do anything more other than restate her proposal.
Sheppard didn't like it when people thought he wasn't capable -- even if that concern was expressed as sympathy. And especially if it was pity.
"Rodney, you know the likelihood of our finding something useful is going to be much greater on the planets the Ancients regularly traveled between. It might not be another ZPM, but undoubtedly they had other ships like the Aurora, maybe even another city ship like Atlantis, complete with puddlejumpers and weapon drones. Replacing those are also a top priority."
"Like the Wraith would have ever let something like that survive," McKay scoffed.
"Unlike Atlantis and the Aurora, McKay?" Sheppard raised a brow. "You can't remember what you had for breakfast a couple of days ago and you're the smartest guy in two galaxies --"
"Hey!"
But Sheppard continued over McKay's indignation. "Don't you think it's possible that the Wraith lost track of a few of those thousand planets the Ancients once seeded? Not to mention that it looks like each hive queen jealously hordes information on her own particular favorites. Hell, in the short time we've been here, even we've probably caused a couple of planets to drop off their radar because of the hive ships we've taken out."
Their exchange sounded right, but I knew it was more for Weir's benefit than their typical enjoyment of … winding each other up was how Sheppard had once explained it. Though we'd all been cleared to go back off world, I knew none of us were completely back to normal despite the work we'd done to reconnect.
Fortunately, Sheppard's skill at showing people like Weir what they wanted (needed) to see was the best I'd ever seen from someone who wasn't a politician. His current layers of masks were the usual ones: faint amusement and exasperation toward McKay, casual interest and anticipation for the pending mission for Teyla and me, and just the right amount of concern to show Weir that he understood and was ready to resume his position and responsibilities.
It wasn't like Weir wanted to acknowledge that Sheppard wasn't okay with all that had happened. Sheppard was her hero -- fuck, he was every body's hero here on Atlantis. While physical injury came with being a hero, vulnerabilities like doubts or emotion stress were flaws she better tolerated from someone like McKay.
She wasn't a bad leader, same as Heightmeyer and Beckett weren't bad doctors. But it was still deception even when lies by omission -- or in being willfully blind and accepting.
I grew up on a world where lying was taboo. Where all betrayals were treason, for the sword that was a Wraith culling cut through family and future, and Satedan honor would be our only surviving legacy. Duty was our religion, trust our reward. The only masks that Sateda wore were for mummery and children's pantomimes.
"I know this one," I finally admitted. "Comru. It's a neutral world welcoming to anyone who has something to trade be it coin, goods or information. It's said you can find anything there if you can pay the price."
"And you've never mentioned this place before?" McKay blustered my direction, all thoughts of the potential dangers fading under the growing lust over the potential payoff.
"I only knew the name, never the gate address," I shrugged. "Went a couple of times when I was a kid. It was a training ground as much as a reward and I wasn't sober either time I came back." I wasn't embarrassed. I hadn't done anything wrong and shame, especially over something in my past, wasn't one of my vulnerabilities.
I know most of the Lanteans don't really think I have any emotions other than hunger and blood lust, just like if I hadn't learned from their books or spoke very much, I couldn't be very smart. McKay -- the team -- now knew better, but they still sometimes expected me to react as they would, and were surprised and bothered when I didn't. The surprise to me was that I was sometimes bothered by it too.
Not embarrassed, but …
"Even if there is a ZPM there, McKay, you're not going to want to know the price," Sheppard started to rein in McKay in response to the disconcerted look I'd shot their direction. Sheppard then shifted his attention more directly to me.
"When you say they'll trade anything --"
I nodded. "That includes people. They're not slavers directly in that they don't go looking or taking people randomly, but they will accept anything that two people may agree upon the value, and the more eager someone is to get something or to get rid of it, the higher the price. The only thing they won't do is trade with the Wraith."
"You said you went there as a kid," Weir interjected. "So it isn't particularly dangerous?"
"Every planet and people can be dangerous." I shrugged again, not quite sure how to explain, as I wasn't sure what she wanted to know. Somehow, I don't think our childhoods were anything like one another's. "But assuming the Wraith haven't culled there yet, it's probably a good place to check out now that we do know the address."
She was still looking a little uneasy, so I dredged up a little more. "I'd just seen fifteen years when I went the first time. I'd been chosen to a Squad and it was our time to celebrate. And to learn that life on other worlds could be different than life on Sateda. On Comru I had my first drink, my first woman, my first hangover --"
McKay began to sputter, he and Weir both turning pink. I didn't expect it was over getting drunk, not when I could also see what looked to be more like admiration from Sheppard along with his sudden grin, nor Teyla's more placid amusement that was belied by a twinkle in her eye.
Despite their boldness and ease during sex between the four of us, McKay and Sheppard never talked about it. Not what they were involved in now, nor even much about past partners and relationships. McKay explanations about why no one could know about Sheppard's involvement were stupid, but I'd understood that they were bound by duty and rule even though Sheppard never appeared quite as concerned about it as McKay. But I don't think that was why McKay was now looking embarrassed, nor did it explain Weir's reaction -- other than both of them were awfully damned repressed about enjoying matters of the flesh.
Good thing it had been Sheppard I'd gone to the first time. He'd given me no reason to believe that sex was different for them than it was for me -- or Teyla.
On Sateda sex, love and family commitment can be three different relationships -- three or even more. Most sex is between squadmates if you are soldiers, and is more about comfort and basic needs. Family commitment is about procreation, alliances, protection and advancement. Sometimes you can find one person who can fulfill comfort as well as commitment, someone you might even love and hope to spend the rest of your life with. The obligations of offspring, however, are the highest duty on a world were the Wraith could come on any day. Except soldiers are no more suited to raising children than they are to participating in politics. A soldier looks to their parents to make or allow the commitment pairings, and leave the children and the politics to be looked after by those you must leave behind. This is the way, and no one will begrudge you for the comfort you find elsewhere.
"Well then, I guess you have a go."
Six Days Ago
We've all been checked out by Beckett, relieved of duty by Weir, and had appointments scheduled to talk to Heightmeyer about what had just happened. I still don't talk much to any of them, and so didn't see the point in my meeting with their mind healer one-on-one, but I have no problem being supportive for the others. McKay, Teyla and I all feel some guilt, but mostly I was feeling some residual anger at McKay for not letting me follow Sheppard through the veil. But I didn't need to tell that to Heightmeyer, and probably wouldn't even scare McKay with it.
Now with the understanding of what had happened, and knowing nothing McKay or anyone else could have done would have changed the outcome, most of my anger is gone. Except that which I reserved for the Ancestors in general for having created such a 'sanctuary' in the first place without placing proper warnings, and for the pretenders beyond who had as much held Sheppard with their unwillingness to defend themselves (or just live a real life) as the time dilation field had trapped him.
I also understand being left behind, though, and I knew Sheppard wasn't just going to get over it after a night's sleep back 'home' -- or from talking to the pretty blonde doctor. I figured it had actually been worse for Sheppard than it had been me. I and my squadmates really had been betrayed by the one we'd trusted most. Whereas none of this had been McKay's fault and so Sheppard would also being feeling guilt for thinking he'd been abandoned -- and for damn near giving in and being talked into trying to Ascend.
If only one of us had gone after him...
Or even threw in a fucking note along with the packs and rations once we'd figured out what was going on.
McKay was still berating himself for not providing a note even as he, Teyla and I waited for Sheppard to open the door. It might be too soon, but we were already six months too late and none of us were going to let him be alone any longer. Ever Weir had given an indication that she wanted to do something with Sheppard. Right up until Beckett had pulled her aside during our medical checks and simply gestured in our direction as we'd waited for Sheppard to come out of the exam room. Weir and Beckett and Heightmeyer, or Lorne or Zelenka or Cadman could have Sheppard tomorrow, but for tonight he needed to be ours. So that he might understand that we were still here and that he was still a part of us.
Everyone else called it 'team bonding'. And it was. Except no one else had the faintest clue of just how deep that bonding would be.
My first experience with sex was during Instruction -- was part of my instruction. Sex was just one more thing to get familiar with and decide it we wanted to learn how to do it well. We each picked a partner with whom we then explored the sights, the smells and the reactions to the actions we'd already had explained. While we didn't keep track of our ages on Sateda as the Lanteans seem obsessed by, it was during my Secondaries, and so I'd seen at least thirteen 'years' of life. It was definitely after my body had begun to develop. And after I'd already been testing my own responses. I enjoyed it a lot more coaxing them out of someone else. Having someone else take the responsibility of teasing them out of me was pretty amazing too.
Our coming together hadn't happened the first time completely by accident; group sex never happens by accident, especially when two of the four are already in a sexual relationship. But when I'd gone to Sheppard that night, maybe three months after I'd agreed to stay on Atlantis, I'd only been hoping to find some small measure of comfort and reassurance that I hadn't made a mistake and misjudged him or my agreement to join his gate team. My new squad.
The mission we'd just completed, on a planet not even Teyla had known the name of (and now there was no one left to tell us), had brought once more to the forefront all of the rawness I still felt about Kell. It wasn't that I doubted my actions when I'd killed my former Task Master, but it had got me wondering just the same as to what I was thinking in trying to find a new one. Thanks to Sheppard and the other Lanteans, I didn't have to run any more, but that also didn't mean I had to stay.
The Wraith had gotten to the planet the Lanteans had designated P7X-224 no more than a couple of days before us. All had been destroyed, as Sateda had been destroyed. There had been bodies as well as husks, bodies that showed violence beyond death by a Wraith's hand. We could tell that some of the wounds had been self-inflicted; such utter despair during a culling wasn't common but I'd run across it during my years as a Runner (generally only afterward, although once I'd actually been there during the culling to see those who gave up and took their own lives instead of fighting to their last breath). More unsettling had been the bodies of the children, slain by their own parents' hands. Gruesome and heart wrenching, yes, but still preferable to having the children taken, or seeing them sucked dry.
I hadn't heard about Sumner at that point, but even McKay seemed to understand the concept of a mercy killing.
But then we'd found the other bodies. Their wounds had not been self-inflicted, or done out of mercy. They'd been shot in the leg or a shoulder, just something to slow them down and make them more vulnerable to the Wraith. Indeed, some had been drained and left, and I've no doubt that others had been taken by the darts to a Hive Ship to be healed and then preserved for later feedings. Others, though, had simply bled out, their death and pain all the worse because it had come from those they had trusted and maybe known.
It was Kell's betrayal all over again.
After our return, after the mission debriefing and the medical, after dinner and an attempt to wind down that only involve losing control and injuring some of Sheppard's marines, I'd finally gone to bed. Only to find sleep elusive and filled with the images of the day and of Sateda's end interweaving when I did close my eyes.
Desperately I'd tried to call up other memories of Sateda. Of my squad, of my mates outside of Kell, of all the things they had been and still represented.
I'd been military longer than I'd been a runner. I knew all about the chain of command, and how harassment or favoritism could wreak a battle plan, not to mention morale. But those were all things outside the squad. Civilians never understood how we -- how it could be different. How it didn't matter if you were fighting or fucking, that the trust between squadmates was absolute and included everything. How when the weapons were firing or the darts swooping, your mates had your back even when you weren't talking to one another because someone had done some stupid thing, or because two of you knew sparring was the best foreplay. Anger, jealousy, fear -- those were all words to describe other people, all emotions you might apply to your commitment paring but even then, if you understood your duty and obligations, such emotions couldn't be sustained.
I understood that in the field someone had to make the final decisions, but even Kell had deferred to me when it came to tracking and general survival, and would have allowed that Teyla was better in most matters of first contact and diplomacy. Or that even McKay was the one to direct things when it was something Ancient or technical. Sheppard got that, as well as understanding that the three of us didn't follow him because someone else told us he was our leader.
Of course, as far as I could tell, ours was the only true squad on Atlantis. The others all being comprised of just bosses and followers, with maybe a civilian thrown in who usually had no business going off world, much less calling themselves part of a team. I didn't like going out with any of the other offworld groups, not even Lorne's, which I supposed might come close to what they should be at some point in the future (assuming they all lived that long), or Stackhouse's because it was obvious that anything they might have once had had fallen prey to the Wraith and their siege of Atlantis before I'd arrived. I would always be an outsider to those mates as they were to mine.
On that night I felt heart-sick and lonelier than I had for the seven years I'd been on the run. In those first days after I'd agreed to stay, Sheppard had more than once said that I could come to him with and for anything.
If I was to survive here, I needed to find out if his way was the same as Kell's.
Sheppard didn't say anything when I showed up at his door in the middle of the night, just looked at me, nodded once, and then let me hold and rub off against him before peeling us out of the bedclothes I'd made a mess over. He then fucked me, as hard and all-consuming as Kell ever had, yet instead of from the coldness and remove of a Task Master, it was with the care and affection of a squadmate.
The only sounds we made were involuntary, but this, like most things between us didn't need words. In truth I could only hang on and silently howl into his shoulder lest I sob out words neither of us should hear.
Whether we both fell asleep after he'd cleaned us up or just me, when I awoke a couple of hours later, McKay and Teyla were both there too. They were sitting on the floor to either side of the bed extending out toward the center of the room, leaning against it as in my sprawl across it (my head resting in Sheppard's lap and against his stomach), there was no room for them to join us. The low murmurs of their conversation were as comforting as the hand resting against the back of the my head (Sheppard's), the one gently kneading my right shoulder (Teyla's), and the one more or less petting my left calf which had to be McKay's.
It was only a few days later that I learned that I should have been surprised at Sheppard's acceptance and understanding -- that he should have been upset and sent me away from the very beginning. That when Sheppard had first said I could come to him for anything, he hadn't meant this.
Not Kell's truths or Sheppard's. Just my own. Truths important enough to him -- to them -- to make true.
On the night of First Markings, new squadmates were expected to come together to learn of one another. On that night, we were informed that we would be leaving for Comru within the next tenday and so the initial plans of drink and noisy commemoration were set aside for better, if later, opportunity. Instead, we celebrated quietly after the ink that proclaimed my squad's name was beaded in our flesh. We told each other of backgrounds and families, of plans and hopes and boast-dreams. We recited the oaths not of duty to the Task Masters and to Sateda, but made the pledges of loyalty to each other and to self. We'd all explored bodies and parts before, and even here I was familiar with three or four of them from my earlier instruction. This night was different, however. These were the nine most important people in my life, the ones now entrusted with my life. It was only right to also entrust them with my body. The sex play that followed wasn't clinical, nor was the point to have fun. What it turned out to be was reverent.
I was glad when afterward McKay, out of his worry that I might say or do something that might not only get Sheppard sent home, but also might get me kicked out of Atlantis, ranted about Lantean taboos and their stupid rules. I appreciated his concern, especially on Sheppard's behalf, as ending his life as a soldier would have been a careless way to pay back the man who had given me back my life.
For a moment I wondered whether they had had this with Ford; I didn't want to think that this was the real reason behind Sheppard's unwillingness to write off the missing man because leave no one behind seemed so much more than just lust or loyalty to him. (The answer had been no, although Teyla and he had, just as McKay and Sheppard had also been together for months). I didn't ask, though, was only been grateful that some things, that comfort would be given and could be taken despite any other relationships they might be or been involved in, seemed universal -- even when apparently they were not.
Then I didn't yet know about 'don't ask/don't tell'; about homophobia or that anything involving more than two people was considered perverted. Then I only knew to acknowledge the closeness and importance of the other two, and draw them into the connection that Sheppard had given me with his understanding and absolution. That night I found only compassion and kindness (Teyla), and friendship and encouragement (McKay). That night I'd come home.
Now Sheppard and I run and spar together most everyday, just as he and I practice stick fighting with Teyla, and he and I try to keep McKay and his scientists alive by making them keep up with self defense and weapons training. Sheppard also regularly flies Teyla over to the mainland so she can spend time with her people (or to give me and her a chance to escape the confinement of Atlantis, even if he does think he's doing it so Teyla and I can have sex -- which we do… a lot). Sheppard spends more time hanging around McKay in the labs (although I figure that's more to bother and wind McKay up than to actually be helping in the research -- and I figured out that that was their version of foreplay within the first week of my arrival). In addition to sexplay, Teyla and I are trying to learn their written language and how to use their tech (and even though we are closer than family, that was one of the things we learned we can't all do together -- McKay doesn't have the patience to teach anyone anything, and Sheppard doesn't have the patience to sit and be still unless he's on guard duty or watching his weird shows in a box).
For the four of us together then, there are generally only mission briefings and some meals, plus something once a week just for ourselves when there is time between our duties. Sometimes it's watching one of those weird movies, because they are interesting and often funny even if Teyla and I aren't laughing at the same things, and even though neither of us can spend more than a couple of hours just sitting and watching something transmitted across a box. Sometimes it's games; the simple ones from Sheppard's world with cards and marbles that allow all four of us to play and where winning is either straightforward or a matter of personal skills and not dependent upon someone's cultural background.
I've tried to teach them a couple of games from Sateda, but it's hard to recreate the pieces and remember all of the rules, and most of the ones I learned there involve physical activity anyway. We've even done the sex thing for fun a couple more times, but 'team bonding night' usually means Sheppard and or McKay are still on call if there's an emergency, and Weir doesn't like it when one of them has locked the door, even as she understands that no one else is welcome to join us no matter what we're doing unless specifically invited.
Even so, there have been a few more nights we've gotten together when no one was on call: after Sheppard stopped being a bug and after the rest of us got through withdrawal. After Teyla discovered the serious of Charin's illness and after McKay and I had gotten caught in that landslide. After near death, or coming loss; after great fear and even in celebration, because those are the times no one will question our closeness or our need to find comfort in the presence of each other.
Now it was Sheppard's turn again.
My hands are full of food from the messhall, while McKay holds the wine and his computer, although only we four know that it's for the music he's got stored within it and not for some sort of note taking or work.
Our team is grounded until Weir, Beckett and Heightmeyer are all confident that we're okay, and its two days of complete downtime before McKay or Sheppard can resume light duty pending that eventual okay and approval to return to full duties. Beckett's holding out for a full week, but I don't see Weir being able to handle them out of things for that long even if either man would let her. Not with the Daedelus and Caldwell not scheduled to return for almost two full months.
Sure, if there were real, physical injuries that were preventing either from doing their jobs, Weir would find a way to manage with their Seconds, and with McKay or Sheppard's advise, but for just stress …
All Lanteans are under stress just living here every day. And the Wraith don't allow breaks for downtime.
We've kept Teyla's hands free, just in case she needs to take the stuff from McKay so he can override Sheppard's door, but it opens before we have to wait too long, and having her hands free means she can go to him immediately when the door closes ands locks behind us.
My first woman was nothing like Teyla, but exactly the same in all the ways that counted. She was soft and warm and smelled a little like home but a lot like something wild and exotic. She showed me pleasures I had never thought to want and taught my body responses that even now can make me blush. Sex-play with men can be casual or intense, is comfortable and familiar because the understanding and similarities are fundamental. Sex-play with women is a religion in and of itself.
Sheppard has already removed the beard, which is too bad because shaving him might have been a good starting point to our reconnecting. Teyla, however, rarely needs something specific to focus on to get any of us to relax. Nothing other than offering her strong, warm embrace, which Sheppard now wraps himself up within as McKay and I unencumbered ourselves. The simple clothes the Others had given him are half in and half out of the waste basket next to his desk -- one of us should probably gather them together and turn them over to Halling or someone else on the mainland to be reused since they are of good weave and wear, and nothing like that should be thrown away despite the memories associated with them.
Even though Sheppard has to know that we would come, he looks surprised -- and grateful -- and it disturbs as well as pleases me just a little that he never counts on this. He has also gotten dressed again after the obvious shower; his hair is damp under my fingers as I move to join Teyla in providing touch comfort to the edge of flesh between hair and collar. McKay's moving instead toward the bed that's already been disturbed; we'd taken long enough for Sheppard to have curled up under at least the top blanket though I doubt he'd fallen asleep.
Sheppard's always colder than the rest of us, although he never complains like McKay does. That's an easy thing to remedy, just like an empty stomach or at least replacing the alien tastes he's had to endure for six months.
We'll use the bed because is the only place big enough for the four of us outside of the floor -- which is yet another cause for complaint by McKay, but not tonight. Since the first (and only) time the four of us came together in here, the bed has been moved into the corner nearest the balcony to the outside, giving us all a wall to support our backs and have our feet spread out before us. Teyla draws Sheppard to sit next to McKay, then arranges me next to Sheppard, while she then brings over and hands us each one of the plates McKay and Beckett had arranged from the cooks. The plates are each filled with different things, meant to be shared and passed around instead of one separate for each of us, all filled with favorite things that are easy to eat with fingers and at room temperatures because that is something important to the rest of them, and while I will and have eaten whatever and however many a time, I have also allowed myself to be domesticated again in some manners and style as well as being known to admit that I prefer eating things that taste good instead of eating for fuel.
Sheppard takes one, but doesn’t reach for anything from it, nor from one of the others and simply holds it in his lap for our convenience as he lets his head fall back and closes his eyes.
I guess it's not food he is most hungry for.
"I had sex with Teer."
Teyla and I both stay silent, this is not being said to us, as it doesn’t matter in our minds and is only understandable, given that Sheppard had thought himself alone and imprisoned there for the rest of his life. McKay's immediate action is to draw in his breath, but then he only nods and reaches to take the plate away from Sheppard when it's obvious there will be little eating done right now. He hands it and the one he'd received back to Telya before enclosing one of Sheppard's hands into his own. I quickly slide off the bed and help her cover and replace everything onto the tray I'd placed on Sheppard's desk so that we might enjoy it later. Good food, especially, should never be wasted.
McKay, having claimed his usual spot on the bed closest to the corner between the two walls (for his 'bad' back), is drawing Sheppard down to lean against his shoulder. "Of course you did," he was saying. "It's in the handbook, after all. She was Ancient and Ascended more or less. What's not to be attracted to?"
Teyla and I exchange glances. Sheppard flirts with anything that talks with no more thought about it than he gives to breathing. Even McKay knows this and most of the time deals with it in a similar manner to now -- deriding Sheppard with sharp words but little bite. Sheppard flirts with anyone and McKay pretends to show interest in women like Katie Brown or his mythical Samantha Carter. Not out of true jealousy I'd decided before tonight (because neither have shown the least hesitancy of including Teyla or myself in their relationship), but because neither of them can actually come out and admit or show their feeling for one another outside of Teyla's or my company.
I don't understand the basis for their rule, but I do understand its importance in being a rule. It will come out eventually anyway -- secrets always do. But until then I will keep it with the same care I take in all of my dealings with them.
McKay grabs tighter hold of their entwined hands when Sheppard stiffens and moves to pull away. For an instant I am tempted to gather Teyla and leave, whether we would then go to my room or not. But she's already on the move, loosening her top although she doesn't remove it and climbing up on the bed to straddling Sheppard.
"We are glad that you found comfort there, John," she says softly as she is reaching for his hands and lifting them up to the wondrously soft skin that can now be reached. "We are hoping that you will again take comfort from us now."
I don't care how much a man likes cock -- or how good a lay this Teer might have been. If he's alive with any sort of sex drive at all, he simply cannot ignore Teyla's breasts. And however much he might feel at the moment or have wished differently, Sheppard is definitely still alive. He makes a noise that sounds more like a sob than the groan he was more likely going for, and falls into her embrace again.
McKay is the one moving with them this time, bracketing Sheppard from behind as he's leaned away from the wall, and it's to McKay's ears that Sheppard's offering broken whispers of the fears he's had to keep within for too long in between the quick, soft kisses he's bestowing on Teyla. The three of them huddle together in a clutch of apologies and forgiveness, and my own heart clutches. I join them although I remain standing, one hand going to crush Sheppard's against Teyla's breast while I use the other to grip Sheppard's hair and force his head back so I can silence him from saying more unnecessary things. This gives McKay free access to Teyla's mouth and for a moment we hold as we are until hands move and hips twist and our lips come together in different combinations, until each of us taste and are tasted in return in all the combinations possible between us.
I can do sex comfort slow and gentle, and when it's McKay or Teyla who becomes our center focus that is how it starts and plays out, although there is always an intensity and passion that keeps our connection thriving and vital. But if it's Sheppard or me with the greatest need, gentleness is usually left by the wayside quickly, and tonight is no different.
Clothing is pulled and torn, until we are all mostly naked, at least in all the places that really matter. During the frenzy of touches and nips, of bites and wet, sloppy kisses that leave flesh aching and quivering, Sheppard has been stretched out along the full length of the bed. Teyla is this time kneeling across his ribs and is facing his cock, although it is my mouth that is bringing it stiff and upright. She is holding Sheppard's legs up and apart, while he's lifting up and supporting her hips, spreading her as she's spreading him. With one more little tug Sheppard pulls her back just enough to plunge his tongue into her and start bringing out her juices.
Teyla's breasts are rubbing back and forth against my shoulder. She's overbalanced, being held up instead of supporting herself, but is eager and flexible enough to reengage with McKay lips even as he thrusts two coated fingers into Sheppard. Sheppard tries to thrust up, but Teyla's body is holding his chest down while McKay and I both hold down his hips. After another minute of attention, Sheppard and Teyla both orgasm with little more stimulation, and I decide Teer must not have been very good after all as Sheppard is still hard when I pull away and take Teyla's place against McKay's mouth so I can share with him Sheppard's taste.
McKay's fingers go from two to four, just as much keeping Sheppard stimulated as McKay is still preparing him. When Sheppard bucks again with a moan that is part pain and much more need, I first guide one of the thin sheaths of 'protection' over his rigid cock, and then Teyla. The added barrier in addition to having gotten off so quickly should have him able to let Teyla ride him for a long time, perhaps even being able to equal my record for the number of climaxes I've given her before he is spent.
I'm hard from going down on him, from hearing and smelling our rising lust, and from the sheer pleasure and contentment of our closeness. Once I am sure that Teyla is seated and can maintain her own balance and momentum, I give a tug to McKay and pull him away from Sheppard. McKay isn't completely erect yet, but his cock grows fuller with a few knowing tugs from my fingers, and then from Sheppard's mouth as I help McKay kneel over Sheppard's shoulders. This leaves Sheppard's ass for me and I waste little time in raising his legs up again.
Even in this position I still tower over Teyla, but with a strength that is really the equal to any of us given her size, she's latched hold of my hair and pulls my face down to hers even as I breach Sheppard's body in one quick, near brutal thrust that has him groaning around McKay's cock. Sheppard's knees drop over my arms as my hands reach and begin kneading and pulling on Teyla's magnificent breasts in time to my hip's movements. We're supporting each other, my thrusts into Sheppard directing his thrusts into Teyla, while McKay matches our rhythm at the other end.
We go slow and let everything build, sounds being muffled by tongues and cocks except for McKay's, but in this he is blessedly silent save for deep gasps and then more rapid pants. In most of the weird movies they and the Daedelus have brought with them, all of the couples engaged in sex play finish with screeches of each other's names on their lips, and maybe McKay and Sheppard do that when they're alone, but with the four of us we need nothing more than the tastes and smells and touches of one another to know who we are with and what this all means.
Comfort, and yes love, for each other and for us all, as deep as any family, and something that will last longer after sex play stays divided or goes away altogether.
Part two follows
Title: Fallout
Author: Sian1359
Rating: Adults Only (NC17) for explicit sex and violence
Category: Slash; Action/Adventure; H/C (big surprise there for those who know me ;-)
Spoilers: Takes place right after Epiphany
Pairing(s): Team OT4
Warnings: Here be a boy liking boys and girls (slash and mild het content)
Apologies: I didn't give my beta editor extraordinaire the time to do her job
Summary: Secrets never stay hidden forever
Kaijikia wanted: Teyla has to fight gladiator-style to protect the lives/virtue of her teammates (gen or OT4); Ronon goes back to Sateda with Rodney, Teyla, and Sheppard; gen team-fic or hook Ronon up with one (or more) of his teammates; or a mission/day-in-the-life of one of the "lower-echelon" teams;
One thing you don't want to write: Carson
Well, definitely I didn't write about a 'lower echelon' team. As for the rest… maybe?
Now
I'd long ago given up the idea of ever seeing my birthworld again. Sateda had managed to hold out longer than most worlds, but we'd all grown up knowing the Wraith would come and that all we'd hoped and achieved could be taken away in the sweep of a culling beam or from a hand slamming into your chest to suck away your lifeforce. When our turn had come I'd been prepared, and my only true regret had come from not having the opportunity to insure that the one who'd betrayed us had come to his own end.
Preferably by my hand.
Except I didn't die either. Instead, I was violated and altered, stripped of everything I had known and desired, and then set loose. Not out of compassion, but for sport and as a means to train Wraith drones in the ways of the hunt. Instead of stealing my years and my life, they took away my world and my humanity. My needs became simple: weapons, food, shelter. Survival so that I could kill as many Wraith as I could manage before my luck and blood ran dry.
Except neither did. Instead, I survived for seven years as a Runner. I survived by honing my skills and my hatreds. I survived until my own reputation was as fearsome to the Wraith as theirs had been to my people. I survived until I became the hunter.
I no longer had any history or friends, but also no obligations or responsibilities. I had only purpose. Eventually I no longer even dreamt of returning to the life I had known -- or of finding a new one. I lived in the moment. For the moment. My sole reason to continue was a perverse game of hide and seek, fueled by ego and vengeance; the need only to outlast those who came after me and to teach them to regret that they had ever found me.
In this I found a sort of contentment.
Until I was then found by somebody other than the Wraith. Found by those who'd come to live in the long abandoned City of the Ancestors. Suddenly I was given hope again. Hope and a home. A future. In exchange I was only expected to interact, to become human again. Making a place with them wasn't comfortable, but neither was it all that difficult. The Lanteans were friendly, probably too trusting, but I had begun to find my way again.
In exchange, all I had to do was care.
Two Days Ago
"Thank you for joining us."
Weir's strange. She says something like that every single damn time. As if my coming to her meetings was something special. As if it wasn't expected. Not mandatory, no, because even Sheppard doesn't really give orders despite being the Military Commander of the Atlantis Base and so my commander -- my new Task Master.
Despite there only being four on the squad, despite our squad being called an offworld gate-team -- despite Sheppard being nothing like Kell.
I nod, first to show Weir the proper respect, and then again to the others who have stayed after their larger meeting. Any time a team is considering going through the Gate of the Ancestors to a new planet, Teyla and I get invited to participate in the mission planning even when it's not our team that is scheduled. Teyla and I are their native guides and, while the Lanteans don't understand a lot of things about how life is here in the Pegasus Galaxy, they do know enough to realize the technological advances they brought with them won't always be enough.
I'm still learning how different a place it is where the Lanteans came from. Not just their technology, but their governments, religions, even the way they think. Especially the way their military thinks. In some ways they are entirely too lenient, allowing the other Squad Masters to question orders and try to refuse their duty. At first I thought it was Sheppard's fault, and had wondered what I was doing staying on here. He gives orders rarely and when he does, he makes it sound like suggestions, or even worse, a plea. There are no harsh demands, no absolute discipline, and the boundaries between ranks seem to exist only when someone remembers.
Except I have also seen the way the soldiers listen to Sheppard and all the things not being said. They way they look -- and see a man who asks nothing of them that he would not and has not done himself. He has earned their respect and their loyalty by his actions and ways that have nothing to do with his rank of command over them. He has earned and been given their trust, in part because he gives them his trust, respect and loyalty in return. Sheppard is squadmate as well as Squad Master … Task Master too, and even Battle Master when Caldwell isn't around.
On Sateda ranking is everything. You are a soldier or civilian; protector or protected, and all else is subdivided into specializations. Your path is fixed as soon as you choose, your studies and training then fitted to your choice. Mistakes are made, and not everyone chooses wisely, but even then the rigid structure brings its own comfort by providing the framework and patterns of what is expected from you. You fail only when you don't try.
Or when you betray your path.
I take the open seat next to McKay; it's still warm from one of those who have just left. Probably Zelenka, since he's McKay's second, or maybe Lorne because he's Sheppard's second, and Teyla and McKay have this time taken the seats to either side of Sheppard, leaving no room for someone else to get close. Usually, McKay and Sheppard sit across from one another, in part to keep certain speculations from growing, but mainly so they can exchange eye rolls and crooked smiles when it is not their time to be serious.
This time, though, McKay's chair is even closer to Sheppard's than Teyla's is, although both have encroached on what Dr. Heightmeyer calls the accepted boundaries of personal space. I might have worried, had I not shifted my own chair closer to McKay, only realizing it and having a moment's concern after I'd already done it.
We were all still feeling a little overprotective, and with the four of us now all right next to each other, Weir's alone on the other side of a table that can seat up to fifteen. She seems to understand -- at least what we're showing on the surface -- and if it bothers her to be treated like an instructor, she doesn't let it show.
I'm still not convinced Weir is really anything but a tolerated administrator. Or whether she can make the hard decisions the Law Makers must. But she's generally quiet, pretty to look at, and pretty much ignores me except during these briefings. And during the weird Lantean social events.
Soldiers don't interact very often with the leaders, not even the Specialists --and never in a social setting. We and the Squad Masters report to the Task Masters, who in turn report to their Battle Masters. It is only the Battle Masters who need suffer the patronage or interference from the Law Makers.
"Carson has assured me that you've all been cleared for full active duty again, but if any of you still feel you need a little more time …" Weir gives a small shrug to her shoulders and at least has the grace to look a little embarrassed from what she's said. We'd been cleared -- all of us. I knew even McKay was getting anxious to be doing something other than playing with his ever-present laptop even when he was supposed to be engaging in downtime. Sheppard, Teyla and I are all active, physical people, especially when compared to McKay, but our soft scientist is the one who often has the worst time dealing with mandatory rest breaks or restricted duty.
"We've been cleared, and our team is still up since that last mission was … a bust," came from Sheppard along with one of his easy grins, although this one didn't quite reach his eyes. His words were more reassurement than argument. Maybe a bit forced, but Weir either didn't notice or was again not letting her reaction show.
A 'bust'. I didn't get the reference, but understood the context and yeah, busted sounded about right. By the end of the mission, the four of us had collectively incurred little more than a few physical bruises from the Unseen Beast -- the Creature of the Id as McKay had called it. Sheppard had been hurt worse in the beginning, I figured, but he hadn't actually said, and he'd had plenty of time to heal.
Which was the real problem.
Sheppard had had six months of time to get hurt, healed, and decide that he'd been abandoned. He understood now that his six months had been less than a day for us. But understanding and accepting was not the same thing. Just as the rest of us were dealing with guilt over something that had been completely out of our control. Team unity had been broken physically as well as mentally, and it was the emotional damage that had had us grounded and stuck -- individually and all together -- with having to have Dr. Heightmeyer clear us for duty in addition to Beckett.
I understood the importance of mind healers; soldiers had to be all manner of fit lest they become a danger to the mission or their squadmates. But the mind healers on Sateda understood it was those squadmates and not words that really put you together again.
Weir nodded to Sheppard's expected response, keeping silent for another few seconds to allow someone else to add more (for McKay to complain), but then gave another brisk nod while she stood and walked toward us to hand out some papers. "The linguists and historians have managed to come up with some new gate addresses in comparing the datalogs you managed to retrieve from the Aurora with the Ancient's database here in Atlantis."
We could have simply shared one or two of the sheets, as close as we'd ended up moving our chairs next to one another.
"Not all of the names had corresponding gate addresses," she was continued as she made her way back to her chair. "So it's always possible we've also picked up people names, or maybe even the names of more ships since we've not had a chance to translate all of the contextual words around the names."
Had I actually been able to read their language, it would have been nice for information beyond just a name and an address, but still Weir shouldn't have sounded so apologetic. Vague apologies weren't right for any type of leader, especially not for something that had been the responsibility of other people.
On the other hand, I suspected that even Kell would have been making excuses for incomplete or incorrect intel if someone like McKay had been there to review it.
No, actually Kell would have shot McKay the first time Atlantis' Chief Scientist had whined about or questioned any of the Task Master's mission specs. Not that McKay would have been allowed on a squad. Had we had someone as smart as McKay on Sateda he would have been spending his days teaching or conducting his research, not wasted in field work (except here, he wasn't wasted, he was essential and I still wasn't quite sure how -- why -- that worked).
On Sateda it would have been up to one of his seconds to advise the Law Makers and Battle Masters of what someone like McKay knew.
The Scholar, the Technician and the Artist are the people most treasured on Sateda, for their knowledge and gifts are the most uncommon, and they are the ones who give our world its uniqueness. They are -- were -- the ones who preserved our past and created a future. The ones that gave reason beyond simply duty for the Soldier, the Merchant and the Administrator to protect, supply and govern.
"Teyla, Ronon, I don't suppose either of you recognize any of them?"
Teyla has learned to read the Lantean's language better than I have, but then she's also had a year more to study it. Weir's list, though, had the names in her English, in Ancient, and in a phonetic pronunciation. In addition to the symbols of their gate addresses.
I thought I recognized a couple of the names, but I paused to let Teyla speak first. Only one of those three worlds would be a place where the Lanteans might find something worthwhile. But Comru is also a world I'd only been to twice during the earliest years after my initial learning, and thus was never in charge or responsible in keeping track of what had happened during our visits. All I really remembered was that it had been a place of as many dangers as it had had delights.
Like the Genii, Sateda had once been the crown of an alliance of worlds; it's armies on call to render aid or vengeance for those who looked to our lead. As such it was part of the duty of every soldier to spend time off world, to grow accustom to the differences to be found in rule and law as well as in duty and desire. Comru played host and instructor to many a fledgling squad, just as the fleshpots there played host to many a fledgling soldier.
I was old and experienced enough to navigate its temptations now -- assuming it was still the meeting ground for many worlds and peoples as it had once been. Assuming it was still untouched by the Wraith. It had been a place of great trading and technology, a place I might have mentioned had I ever known its gate address in the first place after I'd learned that the Lanteans had started their mission here in Atlantis cut off from their world with no hope of returning or even making contact and so now continued to explore the possibilities of trade and allies.
Weir called it 'hedging their bets' against a time when the Daedelus didn't arrive as expected; Sheppard, a prudent subterfuge since they didn't want anyone to know about the ship -- or that Atlantis had survived the recent Wraith siege. Continuing to trade for food and other common goods made sense even more for Teyla's people. Political machinations had come hand in hand on the Daedelus with the resupplies and new people. Sheppard had already talked to Teyla and me about what might happen to us should the Lanteans be ordered to abandon Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy to return home.
Teyla shook her head after reviewing the list a couple of times. "I am sorry; Dr. Weir, but I recognize none of these names."
"If we're going to pick some place random for tomorrow's mission, maybe it shouldn't be one of the worlds the Ancients like, recommended?" McKay spoke up before I could offer a different response from Teyla's. "Surely we haven't checked out all the addresses we've collected from the daisy chain of Athos to Hoff to Dagan to Thenora to Olesia to wherever they provided next? Okay, well maybe we don’t want to visit any of their friends either -- well, the Athosian ones are okay, of course, but surely we still have a few worlds to explore were the people won't try to drug us or steal from us or feed us to the Wraith?"
Weir looked confused at McKay's opposition, but then her eyes shot to Sheppard and her face softened as she acknowledged McKay's roundabout reference to the opening parameters to our last mission, the address having come straight out of the Atlantis database. It was probably a good thing Sheppard was too busy scowling in McKay's direction and so missed that momentary display of sympathy from her. It was also probably a good thing Weir didn't do anything more other than restate her proposal.
Sheppard didn't like it when people thought he wasn't capable -- even if that concern was expressed as sympathy. And especially if it was pity.
"Rodney, you know the likelihood of our finding something useful is going to be much greater on the planets the Ancients regularly traveled between. It might not be another ZPM, but undoubtedly they had other ships like the Aurora, maybe even another city ship like Atlantis, complete with puddlejumpers and weapon drones. Replacing those are also a top priority."
"Like the Wraith would have ever let something like that survive," McKay scoffed.
"Unlike Atlantis and the Aurora, McKay?" Sheppard raised a brow. "You can't remember what you had for breakfast a couple of days ago and you're the smartest guy in two galaxies --"
"Hey!"
But Sheppard continued over McKay's indignation. "Don't you think it's possible that the Wraith lost track of a few of those thousand planets the Ancients once seeded? Not to mention that it looks like each hive queen jealously hordes information on her own particular favorites. Hell, in the short time we've been here, even we've probably caused a couple of planets to drop off their radar because of the hive ships we've taken out."
Their exchange sounded right, but I knew it was more for Weir's benefit than their typical enjoyment of … winding each other up was how Sheppard had once explained it. Though we'd all been cleared to go back off world, I knew none of us were completely back to normal despite the work we'd done to reconnect.
Fortunately, Sheppard's skill at showing people like Weir what they wanted (needed) to see was the best I'd ever seen from someone who wasn't a politician. His current layers of masks were the usual ones: faint amusement and exasperation toward McKay, casual interest and anticipation for the pending mission for Teyla and me, and just the right amount of concern to show Weir that he understood and was ready to resume his position and responsibilities.
It wasn't like Weir wanted to acknowledge that Sheppard wasn't okay with all that had happened. Sheppard was her hero -- fuck, he was every body's hero here on Atlantis. While physical injury came with being a hero, vulnerabilities like doubts or emotion stress were flaws she better tolerated from someone like McKay.
She wasn't a bad leader, same as Heightmeyer and Beckett weren't bad doctors. But it was still deception even when lies by omission -- or in being willfully blind and accepting.
I grew up on a world where lying was taboo. Where all betrayals were treason, for the sword that was a Wraith culling cut through family and future, and Satedan honor would be our only surviving legacy. Duty was our religion, trust our reward. The only masks that Sateda wore were for mummery and children's pantomimes.
"I know this one," I finally admitted. "Comru. It's a neutral world welcoming to anyone who has something to trade be it coin, goods or information. It's said you can find anything there if you can pay the price."
"And you've never mentioned this place before?" McKay blustered my direction, all thoughts of the potential dangers fading under the growing lust over the potential payoff.
"I only knew the name, never the gate address," I shrugged. "Went a couple of times when I was a kid. It was a training ground as much as a reward and I wasn't sober either time I came back." I wasn't embarrassed. I hadn't done anything wrong and shame, especially over something in my past, wasn't one of my vulnerabilities.
I know most of the Lanteans don't really think I have any emotions other than hunger and blood lust, just like if I hadn't learned from their books or spoke very much, I couldn't be very smart. McKay -- the team -- now knew better, but they still sometimes expected me to react as they would, and were surprised and bothered when I didn't. The surprise to me was that I was sometimes bothered by it too.
Not embarrassed, but …
"Even if there is a ZPM there, McKay, you're not going to want to know the price," Sheppard started to rein in McKay in response to the disconcerted look I'd shot their direction. Sheppard then shifted his attention more directly to me.
"When you say they'll trade anything --"
I nodded. "That includes people. They're not slavers directly in that they don't go looking or taking people randomly, but they will accept anything that two people may agree upon the value, and the more eager someone is to get something or to get rid of it, the higher the price. The only thing they won't do is trade with the Wraith."
"You said you went there as a kid," Weir interjected. "So it isn't particularly dangerous?"
"Every planet and people can be dangerous." I shrugged again, not quite sure how to explain, as I wasn't sure what she wanted to know. Somehow, I don't think our childhoods were anything like one another's. "But assuming the Wraith haven't culled there yet, it's probably a good place to check out now that we do know the address."
She was still looking a little uneasy, so I dredged up a little more. "I'd just seen fifteen years when I went the first time. I'd been chosen to a Squad and it was our time to celebrate. And to learn that life on other worlds could be different than life on Sateda. On Comru I had my first drink, my first woman, my first hangover --"
McKay began to sputter, he and Weir both turning pink. I didn't expect it was over getting drunk, not when I could also see what looked to be more like admiration from Sheppard along with his sudden grin, nor Teyla's more placid amusement that was belied by a twinkle in her eye.
Despite their boldness and ease during sex between the four of us, McKay and Sheppard never talked about it. Not what they were involved in now, nor even much about past partners and relationships. McKay explanations about why no one could know about Sheppard's involvement were stupid, but I'd understood that they were bound by duty and rule even though Sheppard never appeared quite as concerned about it as McKay. But I don't think that was why McKay was now looking embarrassed, nor did it explain Weir's reaction -- other than both of them were awfully damned repressed about enjoying matters of the flesh.
Good thing it had been Sheppard I'd gone to the first time. He'd given me no reason to believe that sex was different for them than it was for me -- or Teyla.
On Sateda sex, love and family commitment can be three different relationships -- three or even more. Most sex is between squadmates if you are soldiers, and is more about comfort and basic needs. Family commitment is about procreation, alliances, protection and advancement. Sometimes you can find one person who can fulfill comfort as well as commitment, someone you might even love and hope to spend the rest of your life with. The obligations of offspring, however, are the highest duty on a world were the Wraith could come on any day. Except soldiers are no more suited to raising children than they are to participating in politics. A soldier looks to their parents to make or allow the commitment pairings, and leave the children and the politics to be looked after by those you must leave behind. This is the way, and no one will begrudge you for the comfort you find elsewhere.
"Well then, I guess you have a go."
Six Days Ago
We've all been checked out by Beckett, relieved of duty by Weir, and had appointments scheduled to talk to Heightmeyer about what had just happened. I still don't talk much to any of them, and so didn't see the point in my meeting with their mind healer one-on-one, but I have no problem being supportive for the others. McKay, Teyla and I all feel some guilt, but mostly I was feeling some residual anger at McKay for not letting me follow Sheppard through the veil. But I didn't need to tell that to Heightmeyer, and probably wouldn't even scare McKay with it.
Now with the understanding of what had happened, and knowing nothing McKay or anyone else could have done would have changed the outcome, most of my anger is gone. Except that which I reserved for the Ancestors in general for having created such a 'sanctuary' in the first place without placing proper warnings, and for the pretenders beyond who had as much held Sheppard with their unwillingness to defend themselves (or just live a real life) as the time dilation field had trapped him.
I also understand being left behind, though, and I knew Sheppard wasn't just going to get over it after a night's sleep back 'home' -- or from talking to the pretty blonde doctor. I figured it had actually been worse for Sheppard than it had been me. I and my squadmates really had been betrayed by the one we'd trusted most. Whereas none of this had been McKay's fault and so Sheppard would also being feeling guilt for thinking he'd been abandoned -- and for damn near giving in and being talked into trying to Ascend.
If only one of us had gone after him...
Or even threw in a fucking note along with the packs and rations once we'd figured out what was going on.
McKay was still berating himself for not providing a note even as he, Teyla and I waited for Sheppard to open the door. It might be too soon, but we were already six months too late and none of us were going to let him be alone any longer. Ever Weir had given an indication that she wanted to do something with Sheppard. Right up until Beckett had pulled her aside during our medical checks and simply gestured in our direction as we'd waited for Sheppard to come out of the exam room. Weir and Beckett and Heightmeyer, or Lorne or Zelenka or Cadman could have Sheppard tomorrow, but for tonight he needed to be ours. So that he might understand that we were still here and that he was still a part of us.
Everyone else called it 'team bonding'. And it was. Except no one else had the faintest clue of just how deep that bonding would be.
My first experience with sex was during Instruction -- was part of my instruction. Sex was just one more thing to get familiar with and decide it we wanted to learn how to do it well. We each picked a partner with whom we then explored the sights, the smells and the reactions to the actions we'd already had explained. While we didn't keep track of our ages on Sateda as the Lanteans seem obsessed by, it was during my Secondaries, and so I'd seen at least thirteen 'years' of life. It was definitely after my body had begun to develop. And after I'd already been testing my own responses. I enjoyed it a lot more coaxing them out of someone else. Having someone else take the responsibility of teasing them out of me was pretty amazing too.
Our coming together hadn't happened the first time completely by accident; group sex never happens by accident, especially when two of the four are already in a sexual relationship. But when I'd gone to Sheppard that night, maybe three months after I'd agreed to stay on Atlantis, I'd only been hoping to find some small measure of comfort and reassurance that I hadn't made a mistake and misjudged him or my agreement to join his gate team. My new squad.
The mission we'd just completed, on a planet not even Teyla had known the name of (and now there was no one left to tell us), had brought once more to the forefront all of the rawness I still felt about Kell. It wasn't that I doubted my actions when I'd killed my former Task Master, but it had got me wondering just the same as to what I was thinking in trying to find a new one. Thanks to Sheppard and the other Lanteans, I didn't have to run any more, but that also didn't mean I had to stay.
The Wraith had gotten to the planet the Lanteans had designated P7X-224 no more than a couple of days before us. All had been destroyed, as Sateda had been destroyed. There had been bodies as well as husks, bodies that showed violence beyond death by a Wraith's hand. We could tell that some of the wounds had been self-inflicted; such utter despair during a culling wasn't common but I'd run across it during my years as a Runner (generally only afterward, although once I'd actually been there during the culling to see those who gave up and took their own lives instead of fighting to their last breath). More unsettling had been the bodies of the children, slain by their own parents' hands. Gruesome and heart wrenching, yes, but still preferable to having the children taken, or seeing them sucked dry.
I hadn't heard about Sumner at that point, but even McKay seemed to understand the concept of a mercy killing.
But then we'd found the other bodies. Their wounds had not been self-inflicted, or done out of mercy. They'd been shot in the leg or a shoulder, just something to slow them down and make them more vulnerable to the Wraith. Indeed, some had been drained and left, and I've no doubt that others had been taken by the darts to a Hive Ship to be healed and then preserved for later feedings. Others, though, had simply bled out, their death and pain all the worse because it had come from those they had trusted and maybe known.
It was Kell's betrayal all over again.
After our return, after the mission debriefing and the medical, after dinner and an attempt to wind down that only involve losing control and injuring some of Sheppard's marines, I'd finally gone to bed. Only to find sleep elusive and filled with the images of the day and of Sateda's end interweaving when I did close my eyes.
Desperately I'd tried to call up other memories of Sateda. Of my squad, of my mates outside of Kell, of all the things they had been and still represented.
I'd been military longer than I'd been a runner. I knew all about the chain of command, and how harassment or favoritism could wreak a battle plan, not to mention morale. But those were all things outside the squad. Civilians never understood how we -- how it could be different. How it didn't matter if you were fighting or fucking, that the trust between squadmates was absolute and included everything. How when the weapons were firing or the darts swooping, your mates had your back even when you weren't talking to one another because someone had done some stupid thing, or because two of you knew sparring was the best foreplay. Anger, jealousy, fear -- those were all words to describe other people, all emotions you might apply to your commitment paring but even then, if you understood your duty and obligations, such emotions couldn't be sustained.
I understood that in the field someone had to make the final decisions, but even Kell had deferred to me when it came to tracking and general survival, and would have allowed that Teyla was better in most matters of first contact and diplomacy. Or that even McKay was the one to direct things when it was something Ancient or technical. Sheppard got that, as well as understanding that the three of us didn't follow him because someone else told us he was our leader.
Of course, as far as I could tell, ours was the only true squad on Atlantis. The others all being comprised of just bosses and followers, with maybe a civilian thrown in who usually had no business going off world, much less calling themselves part of a team. I didn't like going out with any of the other offworld groups, not even Lorne's, which I supposed might come close to what they should be at some point in the future (assuming they all lived that long), or Stackhouse's because it was obvious that anything they might have once had had fallen prey to the Wraith and their siege of Atlantis before I'd arrived. I would always be an outsider to those mates as they were to mine.
On that night I felt heart-sick and lonelier than I had for the seven years I'd been on the run. In those first days after I'd agreed to stay, Sheppard had more than once said that I could come to him with and for anything.
If I was to survive here, I needed to find out if his way was the same as Kell's.
Sheppard didn't say anything when I showed up at his door in the middle of the night, just looked at me, nodded once, and then let me hold and rub off against him before peeling us out of the bedclothes I'd made a mess over. He then fucked me, as hard and all-consuming as Kell ever had, yet instead of from the coldness and remove of a Task Master, it was with the care and affection of a squadmate.
The only sounds we made were involuntary, but this, like most things between us didn't need words. In truth I could only hang on and silently howl into his shoulder lest I sob out words neither of us should hear.
Whether we both fell asleep after he'd cleaned us up or just me, when I awoke a couple of hours later, McKay and Teyla were both there too. They were sitting on the floor to either side of the bed extending out toward the center of the room, leaning against it as in my sprawl across it (my head resting in Sheppard's lap and against his stomach), there was no room for them to join us. The low murmurs of their conversation were as comforting as the hand resting against the back of the my head (Sheppard's), the one gently kneading my right shoulder (Teyla's), and the one more or less petting my left calf which had to be McKay's.
It was only a few days later that I learned that I should have been surprised at Sheppard's acceptance and understanding -- that he should have been upset and sent me away from the very beginning. That when Sheppard had first said I could come to him for anything, he hadn't meant this.
Not Kell's truths or Sheppard's. Just my own. Truths important enough to him -- to them -- to make true.
On the night of First Markings, new squadmates were expected to come together to learn of one another. On that night, we were informed that we would be leaving for Comru within the next tenday and so the initial plans of drink and noisy commemoration were set aside for better, if later, opportunity. Instead, we celebrated quietly after the ink that proclaimed my squad's name was beaded in our flesh. We told each other of backgrounds and families, of plans and hopes and boast-dreams. We recited the oaths not of duty to the Task Masters and to Sateda, but made the pledges of loyalty to each other and to self. We'd all explored bodies and parts before, and even here I was familiar with three or four of them from my earlier instruction. This night was different, however. These were the nine most important people in my life, the ones now entrusted with my life. It was only right to also entrust them with my body. The sex play that followed wasn't clinical, nor was the point to have fun. What it turned out to be was reverent.
I was glad when afterward McKay, out of his worry that I might say or do something that might not only get Sheppard sent home, but also might get me kicked out of Atlantis, ranted about Lantean taboos and their stupid rules. I appreciated his concern, especially on Sheppard's behalf, as ending his life as a soldier would have been a careless way to pay back the man who had given me back my life.
For a moment I wondered whether they had had this with Ford; I didn't want to think that this was the real reason behind Sheppard's unwillingness to write off the missing man because leave no one behind seemed so much more than just lust or loyalty to him. (The answer had been no, although Teyla and he had, just as McKay and Sheppard had also been together for months). I didn't ask, though, was only been grateful that some things, that comfort would be given and could be taken despite any other relationships they might be or been involved in, seemed universal -- even when apparently they were not.
Then I didn't yet know about 'don't ask/don't tell'; about homophobia or that anything involving more than two people was considered perverted. Then I only knew to acknowledge the closeness and importance of the other two, and draw them into the connection that Sheppard had given me with his understanding and absolution. That night I found only compassion and kindness (Teyla), and friendship and encouragement (McKay). That night I'd come home.
Now Sheppard and I run and spar together most everyday, just as he and I practice stick fighting with Teyla, and he and I try to keep McKay and his scientists alive by making them keep up with self defense and weapons training. Sheppard also regularly flies Teyla over to the mainland so she can spend time with her people (or to give me and her a chance to escape the confinement of Atlantis, even if he does think he's doing it so Teyla and I can have sex -- which we do… a lot). Sheppard spends more time hanging around McKay in the labs (although I figure that's more to bother and wind McKay up than to actually be helping in the research -- and I figured out that that was their version of foreplay within the first week of my arrival). In addition to sexplay, Teyla and I are trying to learn their written language and how to use their tech (and even though we are closer than family, that was one of the things we learned we can't all do together -- McKay doesn't have the patience to teach anyone anything, and Sheppard doesn't have the patience to sit and be still unless he's on guard duty or watching his weird shows in a box).
For the four of us together then, there are generally only mission briefings and some meals, plus something once a week just for ourselves when there is time between our duties. Sometimes it's watching one of those weird movies, because they are interesting and often funny even if Teyla and I aren't laughing at the same things, and even though neither of us can spend more than a couple of hours just sitting and watching something transmitted across a box. Sometimes it's games; the simple ones from Sheppard's world with cards and marbles that allow all four of us to play and where winning is either straightforward or a matter of personal skills and not dependent upon someone's cultural background.
I've tried to teach them a couple of games from Sateda, but it's hard to recreate the pieces and remember all of the rules, and most of the ones I learned there involve physical activity anyway. We've even done the sex thing for fun a couple more times, but 'team bonding night' usually means Sheppard and or McKay are still on call if there's an emergency, and Weir doesn't like it when one of them has locked the door, even as she understands that no one else is welcome to join us no matter what we're doing unless specifically invited.
Even so, there have been a few more nights we've gotten together when no one was on call: after Sheppard stopped being a bug and after the rest of us got through withdrawal. After Teyla discovered the serious of Charin's illness and after McKay and I had gotten caught in that landslide. After near death, or coming loss; after great fear and even in celebration, because those are the times no one will question our closeness or our need to find comfort in the presence of each other.
Now it was Sheppard's turn again.
My hands are full of food from the messhall, while McKay holds the wine and his computer, although only we four know that it's for the music he's got stored within it and not for some sort of note taking or work.
Our team is grounded until Weir, Beckett and Heightmeyer are all confident that we're okay, and its two days of complete downtime before McKay or Sheppard can resume light duty pending that eventual okay and approval to return to full duties. Beckett's holding out for a full week, but I don't see Weir being able to handle them out of things for that long even if either man would let her. Not with the Daedelus and Caldwell not scheduled to return for almost two full months.
Sure, if there were real, physical injuries that were preventing either from doing their jobs, Weir would find a way to manage with their Seconds, and with McKay or Sheppard's advise, but for just stress …
All Lanteans are under stress just living here every day. And the Wraith don't allow breaks for downtime.
We've kept Teyla's hands free, just in case she needs to take the stuff from McKay so he can override Sheppard's door, but it opens before we have to wait too long, and having her hands free means she can go to him immediately when the door closes ands locks behind us.
My first woman was nothing like Teyla, but exactly the same in all the ways that counted. She was soft and warm and smelled a little like home but a lot like something wild and exotic. She showed me pleasures I had never thought to want and taught my body responses that even now can make me blush. Sex-play with men can be casual or intense, is comfortable and familiar because the understanding and similarities are fundamental. Sex-play with women is a religion in and of itself.
Sheppard has already removed the beard, which is too bad because shaving him might have been a good starting point to our reconnecting. Teyla, however, rarely needs something specific to focus on to get any of us to relax. Nothing other than offering her strong, warm embrace, which Sheppard now wraps himself up within as McKay and I unencumbered ourselves. The simple clothes the Others had given him are half in and half out of the waste basket next to his desk -- one of us should probably gather them together and turn them over to Halling or someone else on the mainland to be reused since they are of good weave and wear, and nothing like that should be thrown away despite the memories associated with them.
Even though Sheppard has to know that we would come, he looks surprised -- and grateful -- and it disturbs as well as pleases me just a little that he never counts on this. He has also gotten dressed again after the obvious shower; his hair is damp under my fingers as I move to join Teyla in providing touch comfort to the edge of flesh between hair and collar. McKay's moving instead toward the bed that's already been disturbed; we'd taken long enough for Sheppard to have curled up under at least the top blanket though I doubt he'd fallen asleep.
Sheppard's always colder than the rest of us, although he never complains like McKay does. That's an easy thing to remedy, just like an empty stomach or at least replacing the alien tastes he's had to endure for six months.
We'll use the bed because is the only place big enough for the four of us outside of the floor -- which is yet another cause for complaint by McKay, but not tonight. Since the first (and only) time the four of us came together in here, the bed has been moved into the corner nearest the balcony to the outside, giving us all a wall to support our backs and have our feet spread out before us. Teyla draws Sheppard to sit next to McKay, then arranges me next to Sheppard, while she then brings over and hands us each one of the plates McKay and Beckett had arranged from the cooks. The plates are each filled with different things, meant to be shared and passed around instead of one separate for each of us, all filled with favorite things that are easy to eat with fingers and at room temperatures because that is something important to the rest of them, and while I will and have eaten whatever and however many a time, I have also allowed myself to be domesticated again in some manners and style as well as being known to admit that I prefer eating things that taste good instead of eating for fuel.
Sheppard takes one, but doesn’t reach for anything from it, nor from one of the others and simply holds it in his lap for our convenience as he lets his head fall back and closes his eyes.
I guess it's not food he is most hungry for.
"I had sex with Teer."
Teyla and I both stay silent, this is not being said to us, as it doesn’t matter in our minds and is only understandable, given that Sheppard had thought himself alone and imprisoned there for the rest of his life. McKay's immediate action is to draw in his breath, but then he only nods and reaches to take the plate away from Sheppard when it's obvious there will be little eating done right now. He hands it and the one he'd received back to Telya before enclosing one of Sheppard's hands into his own. I quickly slide off the bed and help her cover and replace everything onto the tray I'd placed on Sheppard's desk so that we might enjoy it later. Good food, especially, should never be wasted.
McKay, having claimed his usual spot on the bed closest to the corner between the two walls (for his 'bad' back), is drawing Sheppard down to lean against his shoulder. "Of course you did," he was saying. "It's in the handbook, after all. She was Ancient and Ascended more or less. What's not to be attracted to?"
Teyla and I exchange glances. Sheppard flirts with anything that talks with no more thought about it than he gives to breathing. Even McKay knows this and most of the time deals with it in a similar manner to now -- deriding Sheppard with sharp words but little bite. Sheppard flirts with anyone and McKay pretends to show interest in women like Katie Brown or his mythical Samantha Carter. Not out of true jealousy I'd decided before tonight (because neither have shown the least hesitancy of including Teyla or myself in their relationship), but because neither of them can actually come out and admit or show their feeling for one another outside of Teyla's or my company.
I don't understand the basis for their rule, but I do understand its importance in being a rule. It will come out eventually anyway -- secrets always do. But until then I will keep it with the same care I take in all of my dealings with them.
McKay grabs tighter hold of their entwined hands when Sheppard stiffens and moves to pull away. For an instant I am tempted to gather Teyla and leave, whether we would then go to my room or not. But she's already on the move, loosening her top although she doesn't remove it and climbing up on the bed to straddling Sheppard.
"We are glad that you found comfort there, John," she says softly as she is reaching for his hands and lifting them up to the wondrously soft skin that can now be reached. "We are hoping that you will again take comfort from us now."
I don't care how much a man likes cock -- or how good a lay this Teer might have been. If he's alive with any sort of sex drive at all, he simply cannot ignore Teyla's breasts. And however much he might feel at the moment or have wished differently, Sheppard is definitely still alive. He makes a noise that sounds more like a sob than the groan he was more likely going for, and falls into her embrace again.
McKay is the one moving with them this time, bracketing Sheppard from behind as he's leaned away from the wall, and it's to McKay's ears that Sheppard's offering broken whispers of the fears he's had to keep within for too long in between the quick, soft kisses he's bestowing on Teyla. The three of them huddle together in a clutch of apologies and forgiveness, and my own heart clutches. I join them although I remain standing, one hand going to crush Sheppard's against Teyla's breast while I use the other to grip Sheppard's hair and force his head back so I can silence him from saying more unnecessary things. This gives McKay free access to Teyla's mouth and for a moment we hold as we are until hands move and hips twist and our lips come together in different combinations, until each of us taste and are tasted in return in all the combinations possible between us.
I can do sex comfort slow and gentle, and when it's McKay or Teyla who becomes our center focus that is how it starts and plays out, although there is always an intensity and passion that keeps our connection thriving and vital. But if it's Sheppard or me with the greatest need, gentleness is usually left by the wayside quickly, and tonight is no different.
Clothing is pulled and torn, until we are all mostly naked, at least in all the places that really matter. During the frenzy of touches and nips, of bites and wet, sloppy kisses that leave flesh aching and quivering, Sheppard has been stretched out along the full length of the bed. Teyla is this time kneeling across his ribs and is facing his cock, although it is my mouth that is bringing it stiff and upright. She is holding Sheppard's legs up and apart, while he's lifting up and supporting her hips, spreading her as she's spreading him. With one more little tug Sheppard pulls her back just enough to plunge his tongue into her and start bringing out her juices.
Teyla's breasts are rubbing back and forth against my shoulder. She's overbalanced, being held up instead of supporting herself, but is eager and flexible enough to reengage with McKay lips even as he thrusts two coated fingers into Sheppard. Sheppard tries to thrust up, but Teyla's body is holding his chest down while McKay and I both hold down his hips. After another minute of attention, Sheppard and Teyla both orgasm with little more stimulation, and I decide Teer must not have been very good after all as Sheppard is still hard when I pull away and take Teyla's place against McKay's mouth so I can share with him Sheppard's taste.
McKay's fingers go from two to four, just as much keeping Sheppard stimulated as McKay is still preparing him. When Sheppard bucks again with a moan that is part pain and much more need, I first guide one of the thin sheaths of 'protection' over his rigid cock, and then Teyla. The added barrier in addition to having gotten off so quickly should have him able to let Teyla ride him for a long time, perhaps even being able to equal my record for the number of climaxes I've given her before he is spent.
I'm hard from going down on him, from hearing and smelling our rising lust, and from the sheer pleasure and contentment of our closeness. Once I am sure that Teyla is seated and can maintain her own balance and momentum, I give a tug to McKay and pull him away from Sheppard. McKay isn't completely erect yet, but his cock grows fuller with a few knowing tugs from my fingers, and then from Sheppard's mouth as I help McKay kneel over Sheppard's shoulders. This leaves Sheppard's ass for me and I waste little time in raising his legs up again.
Even in this position I still tower over Teyla, but with a strength that is really the equal to any of us given her size, she's latched hold of my hair and pulls my face down to hers even as I breach Sheppard's body in one quick, near brutal thrust that has him groaning around McKay's cock. Sheppard's knees drop over my arms as my hands reach and begin kneading and pulling on Teyla's magnificent breasts in time to my hip's movements. We're supporting each other, my thrusts into Sheppard directing his thrusts into Teyla, while McKay matches our rhythm at the other end.
We go slow and let everything build, sounds being muffled by tongues and cocks except for McKay's, but in this he is blessedly silent save for deep gasps and then more rapid pants. In most of the weird movies they and the Daedelus have brought with them, all of the couples engaged in sex play finish with screeches of each other's names on their lips, and maybe McKay and Sheppard do that when they're alone, but with the four of us we need nothing more than the tastes and smells and touches of one another to know who we are with and what this all means.
Comfort, and yes love, for each other and for us all, as deep as any family, and something that will last longer after sex play stays divided or goes away altogether.
Part two follows