Until None Remained (1/1)
Title: Until None Remained
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Word count: 3,164
Rating: PG-13/violence, character death
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Stargate franchise, unfortunately.
Summary: 'They were four, four against the world, the galaxy, perhaps even the universe.' Indeterminately in the future. JT but not the focus, character death.
They were four, four against the world, the galaxy, perhaps even the universe. They had been more, once; had been a mighty city, a force to be reckoned with, a true threat to those who threatened freedom. But those days were gone now. The mighty city had disappeared below the water again, and she would not be returning to the surface; this time, she had not slipped silently between the waves, but had been hurled down in pieces. She had not been evacuated, not been abandoned; she had been attacked in the night, and it was only by sheer dumb luck, as Rodney put it, that they had not been there when it happened.
Their simple reconnaissance mission to the mainland had meant that they were far away when the attack started. Teyla had noticed it first. She stopped as they walked through the forest on the mainland, her hand on her chest and a short gasp escaping from her lips. John was by her side in an instant, catching her arm, asking what was wrong, and then Teyla had been running towards the Jumper, screaming for them to follow, that something was wrong, that Torren was in danger. They all ran as one, and the Jumper rose a moment later and sped towards the pillars of smoke rising from the city.
They arrived too late; by the time they reached where the Jumper bay should have been, the tower had crashed down into the ocean. John circled around the city, looking for anywhere safe to land, anywhere that they could get inside, but couldn’t see anything past the smoke and debris around him. Teyla was shaking, hand pressed to her heart, and after John had circled the city three of four times she gave a low moan and sank to the ground. John didn’t have to ask what was wrong this time. Her son was dead, somewhere in the flaming wreckage below that had been their home.
John had flow the Jumper up to the Hive then, sitting cloaked on the side of the ship, watching as everything that they had held dear sank in flaming pieces to the bottom of the ocean.
Rodney had stood after a few moments and tapped John on the shoulder, and John rose from the seat, relinquishing the controls to the scientist without a word. He turned and headed to the back of the Jumper, where Ronon sat on the floor, an arm around Teyla. As John approached, Ronon stood and walked back to his seat. John sat down next to Teyla and pulled her close to him, She turned her face into his jacket and cried, great heaving sobs that tore at all who could hear them. No words were said, because none were needed. Everything was gone.
Rodney said later that it was lucky that John had thought to attach them all to the Hive ship; after all, the Stargate had been in the city, and was now likely in pieces along with the rest of Atlantis at the ocean’s floor. Without John’s quick thinking, they would all have been stuck on the planet with no way to leave.
They disengaged at the next planet the Wraith stopped on; they watched the culling in near silence, not trying to help for the first time in years, just sitting and watching as the darts flew in and swept people into their beams. When it was over, the Jumper lifted up and flew through the Stargate, landing only moments later in the Athosian settlement.
The Athosians had been glad to see them at first, but as their news spread, they were met with shocked silences and eyes that seemed haunted far too often. They accepted the offer to stay, at least for a little while; John knew that the Wraith would eventually find out that they had survived, would come looking, but Teyla needed to be with her people. To heal. Maybe to not come back.
It was a week before he brought up leaving; Ronon agreed that staying would only mean bringing the Wraith to New Athos, which simply wasn’t an option. Surprisingly, it was Teyla who formed their battle plan and who insisted on leaving as soon as possible. Her idea was simple, straightforward; Ronon loved it, John was wary but supportive, and Rodney, of course, tried to poke holes in it, but in the end they all packed into the Jumper and flew away again.
They knew of a planet on the edge of the galaxy that the Wraith used as a breeding ground of sorts. The plan was to take it out, which would be a major blow to the Wraith’s ability to replenish their forces; they all remembered back to taking out the nursery when Todd had been involved, and recalled how that had weakened the Wraith for some time. They knew that Teyla’s plan would be a crushing blow, if it worked.
The plan didn’t contain details, because it didn’t need any. They knew it was a suicide mission. They didn’t care. Even Rodney only complained for a short time; he knew, along with everyone else, that he had nothing but the people around him left, and realized quickly enough that though they would gladly leave him on New Athos to live out his days in peace, he would never forgive himself for not seeing it through to the end. And so they set off, saying goodbye to those on New Athos and making hollow promises to return quickly.
They arrived on the planet mercifully undetected; the cloak on the Jumper had kept them hidden from the view of the Wraith. John and Ronon had scouted out the area in the Jumper, looking for a way in, a weak spot, a place where their last stand might be most effective. They located several places that might have a tactical advantage and took Rodney up, looking for places that he could see to overload, where they might get secondary explosions, where he thought would be the best places to wipe the planet from the galactic map.
They finally chose their strike points and their timing. The night before the planned assault, those few left from Atlantis sat together around a small fire they had built into the hillside. The mood was heavy and there was little talking other than to review the plans for the following day.
Ronon eventually looked around the fire, meeting each of their gazes before clearing his throat. “I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye last time,” he said gruffly. “I’m glad I got the second chance to do so.”
The finality of their plan set in on them then. John reached over after a minute and grasped Ronon’s hand. “Been an honor,” he said simply, and Ronon nodded back at him. Teyla stood and walked to his side, embracing him tightly before meeting her forehead to his. Rodney sat blinking, sputtering.
“You don’t know that yet,” he managed, eyes slightly wide, slightly panicked. “Don’t say that yet.” But he stopped, shook his head, closed his eyes. Then, quietly, “We’re really there, aren’t we?” And Rodney reached out and took Ronon’s hand as well.
“Thanks for everything,” he said quietly. He glanced around as he dropped Ronon’s hand. “All of you. Thanks. I know I’m not the easiest person to put up with and all that, but you guys have been the greatest friends a guy could ask for. So thanks.” Rodney looked at the ground, blinking as he felt the other men shaking his hand and clapping him on the back. Teyla sat beside him as well, repeating with him what she had done with Ronon.
She raised her head next, meeting each other set of eyes. “You have been family,” she said simply, strongly. “You have been my brothers.” She looked at Rodney, at Ronon. “And more,” she said, looking at John. They all nodded to her.
“Thanks for following me into the fire,” John offered to the group. He took a deep breath and his gaze wandered over the hillside behind his friends, his family. “I doubt we’ll be able to have another conversation like this tomorrow night, so I want to just put out there that we have the option not to do this.” He met each of their gazes, resolute, and knew that none of them would back down. His team. His family. He gave them his lopsided smile after a moment. “Then again, I didn’t really think you guys wanted out at this point.”
They sat in silence a little longer, staring into the fire or out at the hillside, each thinking their own thoughts. Finally Rodney stood, nodded to them all, and headed for the Jumper to sleep. Ronon stood just after Rodney had left and headed out as well. Teyla shifted in her seat, and John walked to sit next to her. They didn’t speak, but sat in the dim moonlight and flickering fire, holding each other tightly.
The morning broke too quickly, and the team assembled once more, checking weapons and going through supply kits before heading into the Jumper. John sat behind the controls, and the rest of the team took their places as the Jumper lifted from the ground. They flew close to the Gate, and Rodney quickly dialed in the address; the planet they entered was barren, and they waited for the wormhole to disengage as they settled onto the surface. Rodney quickly set up a radio transmitter; once the Gate was opened again, it would continue to broadcast through, keeping the Gate open for the full thirty-eight minutes. Rodney dialed back to the Wraith planet, and John maneuvered the Jumper back through and back towards the base. It wouldn’t be long before the Wraith noticed that one of their own tactics had been used against them, so they had to act quickly.
John landed the Jumper in the place they had determined to be the best. The team silently rose from their seats, gathering the supplies they had with them, and set to work.
The Jumper was now situated near a main power conduit, and Rodney set the charges carefully, knowing exactly where to place them to get the maximum bang for their C4. The rest of the team was well away by the time Rodney finished, and he hurried to join them, nervously handing the detonator to John. John surveyed the three standing by him as he flicked the top to the detonator open.
“Ready?” he asked simply, and before any of them had the chance to respond, he pressed down on the switch.
They ran as one as the Jumper exploded, knowing where to go within the complex. The Wraith poured from every corner, and the team fell into a formation that was born of long practice, forming a tight circle as the enemy bore down upon them. In wave after wave they advanced, until they finally slowed and the four could continue to move silently through the halls. They stopped every so often, John checking his life signs detector while Rodney tapped something out on his tablet. Occasionally they came to a computer terminal, and Rodney always stopped, hooking up his own device and tapping in the few commands that would upload the virus he had programmed into the computer system. They continued this way until they reached a large open cavern, and they knew that they had found their destination.
The room was mostly open, with solid rock walls that extended far above their heads. In the middle sat an altar of sorts, sunk into which was a large yellow crystal. They approached the altar and gazed at the crystal for a moment before Rodney cleared his throat and tapped on his tablet again.
“That’s it,” he said unnecessarily, for they all knew what they were seeing. It was the Wraith equivalent of a DNA repository; each Queen had deposited some genetic material here, so Wraith could continue to be made from it even if the Queen should perish. John nodded at the confirmation and set to placing the remaining C4 around the crystal. For the second time that day, the team dashed from the room and John hit the detonator. The room behind them exploded, the concussion beginning to bring the rock tunnels down around them as they ran. All four could feel the heat raging around them, and they ran faster for the exit, knowing that they weren’t finished yet.
As they burst into the sunlight of the planet around them, they dashed to the treeline and took up their positions. Soon enough, they heard the whine of darts overhead, followed by the rumbling of cruisers and an approaching Hive. They sat, waiting, as more Wraith appeared around them, battling their way into what remained of the facility. Ronon pulled another detonator from his pocket, and at John’s nod, set it off. The mouth of the facility collapsed, and the shrieks of the Wraith being crushed inside were plain to them even from some distance away.
“Incoming,” Rodney breathed quietly, staring at the life signs detector in his hand. The four life signs of their group were quickly being surrounded by those of the Wraith, and John took the detector from Rodney’s hand, replacing it with the man’s P90. Rodney grasped the gun firmly in his hands, the bleak look in his eyes not affecting the steadiness of the weapon he held. The four again took their defensive positions and waited.
The shots came quickly, and the team fought on as best they could. They knew that this was their final stand, the last act of Atlantis and, in a way, the Ancients themselves, at least in this galaxy. They had limited ammunition, and it was only a matter of time until they were overwhelmed, but still they fought on.
Rodney was the first to fall, gasping, to his knees, as blood poured from wounds in his shoulder and thigh. He brought his P90 up again, trying to squeeze off a few more rounds, and then he slumped forward, unmoving. John could see the blood pooling under his friend’s body.
Teyla began to sing under her breath, a song that John had heard all too often; an Athosian prayer to the Ancestors, asking safe passage for one fallen. He heard Ronon’s roar as he heard the song and saw his friend race forwards towards the incoming Wraith, gun firing from one hand and long knife slashing in the other. He made it only a few paces before he was hit by the blue blaze of a Stunner; the Wraith responsible stepped up to the unconscious man and lifted him into the air by his neck. With a look at John and Teyla, he effortlessly snapped Ronon’s neck and dropped him to the ground, smiling cruelly as he did.
Teyla continued her song, and suddenly all John could think of was his mother’s funeral, where they had all stood and prayed together. He had never been religious, not even spiritual really, but the words sprang to his lips now.; “Our Father, who art in Heaven…”
They continued to fight, firing into the crowds of Wraith around them, into the seemingly neverending sea of bodies. John felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and felt the sticky blood running down his arm, but ignored it; he heard the gasp of pain from behind him and knew that Teyla had also been hit, but though he listened for her body to fall, he instead heard the continued sounds of gunfire.
And then the Wraith were gone. John scanned around, felt Teyla doing the same behind him, but there were no more soldiers advancing upon their position, no more monsters leaping from behind trees. John continued to look around, pointing his gun this way and that, reaching into his pocket for the life signs detector he had taken from Rodney. He switched it on and studied the display. Two dots blinked in the center of the screen. No more were visible. Two had survived the impossible.
When he turned, Teyla was kneeling next to Rodney. She had pulled him onto his back, and was crossing his arms over his chest. He looked peaceful, John thought, which was something that Rodney had never appeared to be in life, even in his sleep. The worry lines on his forehead had smoothed out and his eyes were closed. Teyla murmured to him, Athosian words slipping from her mouth as she sat with her hands on his chest.
John walked away and stood by Ronon’s body, seeing no peace in the unnatural twist of his neck. He almost chuckled; even in death, Ronon’s face was snarling in the direction of the Wraith bodies around him. He knelt beside the large man, reaching to close his friend’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” he said, patting Ronon on the arm, as if they were back on Atlantis and in the Infirmary, Ronon with nothing more than a broken leg, off active duty for a few weeks until it healed up. John closed his eyes as the emotions bubbled inside him. Now was not the time.
They dug the graves silently, deep in the ground, next to each other. As they worked, they checked the life signs detector, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for more Wraith to appear. They tugged their friends’ bodies over and placed them as gently as they could in the holes, looking down at them silently for a moment. John reached down and grabbed a handful of the dirt, tossing it on Rodney’s still form as Teyla did the same for Ronon. They covered their friends, placing two small white stones as markers under the tree. Then they stepped back, really assessing each other for the first time.
Teyla raised a hand to his left shoulder, where a bullet had torn a hole. He shrugged the other shoulder, reaching with that hand to touch a patch of blood on the outside of her left thigh. She shook her head. They stepped closer to each other and reached out with a sudden blinding need for contact. It burned in his shoulder but he pulled her close to him; she leaned into his right side, taking some of the weight from her injured leg as she buried her face into his neck. They stood like that, neither saying a word, until she shifted back from him and turned back to the graves.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice low, aching. They walked slowly away towards the gate, which they dialed and stepped through.
So now they were two against the forces that be, the only two left of the mighty legacy that had been left to the galaxy by the Ancients. Without speaking, they knew that they would continue the fight set before them until it was over, one way or the other.
Until none remained.
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Word count: 3,164
Rating: PG-13/violence, character death
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Stargate franchise, unfortunately.
Summary: 'They were four, four against the world, the galaxy, perhaps even the universe.' Indeterminately in the future. JT but not the focus, character death.
They were four, four against the world, the galaxy, perhaps even the universe. They had been more, once; had been a mighty city, a force to be reckoned with, a true threat to those who threatened freedom. But those days were gone now. The mighty city had disappeared below the water again, and she would not be returning to the surface; this time, she had not slipped silently between the waves, but had been hurled down in pieces. She had not been evacuated, not been abandoned; she had been attacked in the night, and it was only by sheer dumb luck, as Rodney put it, that they had not been there when it happened.
Their simple reconnaissance mission to the mainland had meant that they were far away when the attack started. Teyla had noticed it first. She stopped as they walked through the forest on the mainland, her hand on her chest and a short gasp escaping from her lips. John was by her side in an instant, catching her arm, asking what was wrong, and then Teyla had been running towards the Jumper, screaming for them to follow, that something was wrong, that Torren was in danger. They all ran as one, and the Jumper rose a moment later and sped towards the pillars of smoke rising from the city.
They arrived too late; by the time they reached where the Jumper bay should have been, the tower had crashed down into the ocean. John circled around the city, looking for anywhere safe to land, anywhere that they could get inside, but couldn’t see anything past the smoke and debris around him. Teyla was shaking, hand pressed to her heart, and after John had circled the city three of four times she gave a low moan and sank to the ground. John didn’t have to ask what was wrong this time. Her son was dead, somewhere in the flaming wreckage below that had been their home.
John had flow the Jumper up to the Hive then, sitting cloaked on the side of the ship, watching as everything that they had held dear sank in flaming pieces to the bottom of the ocean.
Rodney had stood after a few moments and tapped John on the shoulder, and John rose from the seat, relinquishing the controls to the scientist without a word. He turned and headed to the back of the Jumper, where Ronon sat on the floor, an arm around Teyla. As John approached, Ronon stood and walked back to his seat. John sat down next to Teyla and pulled her close to him, She turned her face into his jacket and cried, great heaving sobs that tore at all who could hear them. No words were said, because none were needed. Everything was gone.
Rodney said later that it was lucky that John had thought to attach them all to the Hive ship; after all, the Stargate had been in the city, and was now likely in pieces along with the rest of Atlantis at the ocean’s floor. Without John’s quick thinking, they would all have been stuck on the planet with no way to leave.
They disengaged at the next planet the Wraith stopped on; they watched the culling in near silence, not trying to help for the first time in years, just sitting and watching as the darts flew in and swept people into their beams. When it was over, the Jumper lifted up and flew through the Stargate, landing only moments later in the Athosian settlement.
The Athosians had been glad to see them at first, but as their news spread, they were met with shocked silences and eyes that seemed haunted far too often. They accepted the offer to stay, at least for a little while; John knew that the Wraith would eventually find out that they had survived, would come looking, but Teyla needed to be with her people. To heal. Maybe to not come back.
It was a week before he brought up leaving; Ronon agreed that staying would only mean bringing the Wraith to New Athos, which simply wasn’t an option. Surprisingly, it was Teyla who formed their battle plan and who insisted on leaving as soon as possible. Her idea was simple, straightforward; Ronon loved it, John was wary but supportive, and Rodney, of course, tried to poke holes in it, but in the end they all packed into the Jumper and flew away again.
They knew of a planet on the edge of the galaxy that the Wraith used as a breeding ground of sorts. The plan was to take it out, which would be a major blow to the Wraith’s ability to replenish their forces; they all remembered back to taking out the nursery when Todd had been involved, and recalled how that had weakened the Wraith for some time. They knew that Teyla’s plan would be a crushing blow, if it worked.
The plan didn’t contain details, because it didn’t need any. They knew it was a suicide mission. They didn’t care. Even Rodney only complained for a short time; he knew, along with everyone else, that he had nothing but the people around him left, and realized quickly enough that though they would gladly leave him on New Athos to live out his days in peace, he would never forgive himself for not seeing it through to the end. And so they set off, saying goodbye to those on New Athos and making hollow promises to return quickly.
They arrived on the planet mercifully undetected; the cloak on the Jumper had kept them hidden from the view of the Wraith. John and Ronon had scouted out the area in the Jumper, looking for a way in, a weak spot, a place where their last stand might be most effective. They located several places that might have a tactical advantage and took Rodney up, looking for places that he could see to overload, where they might get secondary explosions, where he thought would be the best places to wipe the planet from the galactic map.
They finally chose their strike points and their timing. The night before the planned assault, those few left from Atlantis sat together around a small fire they had built into the hillside. The mood was heavy and there was little talking other than to review the plans for the following day.
Ronon eventually looked around the fire, meeting each of their gazes before clearing his throat. “I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye last time,” he said gruffly. “I’m glad I got the second chance to do so.”
The finality of their plan set in on them then. John reached over after a minute and grasped Ronon’s hand. “Been an honor,” he said simply, and Ronon nodded back at him. Teyla stood and walked to his side, embracing him tightly before meeting her forehead to his. Rodney sat blinking, sputtering.
“You don’t know that yet,” he managed, eyes slightly wide, slightly panicked. “Don’t say that yet.” But he stopped, shook his head, closed his eyes. Then, quietly, “We’re really there, aren’t we?” And Rodney reached out and took Ronon’s hand as well.
“Thanks for everything,” he said quietly. He glanced around as he dropped Ronon’s hand. “All of you. Thanks. I know I’m not the easiest person to put up with and all that, but you guys have been the greatest friends a guy could ask for. So thanks.” Rodney looked at the ground, blinking as he felt the other men shaking his hand and clapping him on the back. Teyla sat beside him as well, repeating with him what she had done with Ronon.
She raised her head next, meeting each other set of eyes. “You have been family,” she said simply, strongly. “You have been my brothers.” She looked at Rodney, at Ronon. “And more,” she said, looking at John. They all nodded to her.
“Thanks for following me into the fire,” John offered to the group. He took a deep breath and his gaze wandered over the hillside behind his friends, his family. “I doubt we’ll be able to have another conversation like this tomorrow night, so I want to just put out there that we have the option not to do this.” He met each of their gazes, resolute, and knew that none of them would back down. His team. His family. He gave them his lopsided smile after a moment. “Then again, I didn’t really think you guys wanted out at this point.”
They sat in silence a little longer, staring into the fire or out at the hillside, each thinking their own thoughts. Finally Rodney stood, nodded to them all, and headed for the Jumper to sleep. Ronon stood just after Rodney had left and headed out as well. Teyla shifted in her seat, and John walked to sit next to her. They didn’t speak, but sat in the dim moonlight and flickering fire, holding each other tightly.
The morning broke too quickly, and the team assembled once more, checking weapons and going through supply kits before heading into the Jumper. John sat behind the controls, and the rest of the team took their places as the Jumper lifted from the ground. They flew close to the Gate, and Rodney quickly dialed in the address; the planet they entered was barren, and they waited for the wormhole to disengage as they settled onto the surface. Rodney quickly set up a radio transmitter; once the Gate was opened again, it would continue to broadcast through, keeping the Gate open for the full thirty-eight minutes. Rodney dialed back to the Wraith planet, and John maneuvered the Jumper back through and back towards the base. It wouldn’t be long before the Wraith noticed that one of their own tactics had been used against them, so they had to act quickly.
John landed the Jumper in the place they had determined to be the best. The team silently rose from their seats, gathering the supplies they had with them, and set to work.
The Jumper was now situated near a main power conduit, and Rodney set the charges carefully, knowing exactly where to place them to get the maximum bang for their C4. The rest of the team was well away by the time Rodney finished, and he hurried to join them, nervously handing the detonator to John. John surveyed the three standing by him as he flicked the top to the detonator open.
“Ready?” he asked simply, and before any of them had the chance to respond, he pressed down on the switch.
They ran as one as the Jumper exploded, knowing where to go within the complex. The Wraith poured from every corner, and the team fell into a formation that was born of long practice, forming a tight circle as the enemy bore down upon them. In wave after wave they advanced, until they finally slowed and the four could continue to move silently through the halls. They stopped every so often, John checking his life signs detector while Rodney tapped something out on his tablet. Occasionally they came to a computer terminal, and Rodney always stopped, hooking up his own device and tapping in the few commands that would upload the virus he had programmed into the computer system. They continued this way until they reached a large open cavern, and they knew that they had found their destination.
The room was mostly open, with solid rock walls that extended far above their heads. In the middle sat an altar of sorts, sunk into which was a large yellow crystal. They approached the altar and gazed at the crystal for a moment before Rodney cleared his throat and tapped on his tablet again.
“That’s it,” he said unnecessarily, for they all knew what they were seeing. It was the Wraith equivalent of a DNA repository; each Queen had deposited some genetic material here, so Wraith could continue to be made from it even if the Queen should perish. John nodded at the confirmation and set to placing the remaining C4 around the crystal. For the second time that day, the team dashed from the room and John hit the detonator. The room behind them exploded, the concussion beginning to bring the rock tunnels down around them as they ran. All four could feel the heat raging around them, and they ran faster for the exit, knowing that they weren’t finished yet.
As they burst into the sunlight of the planet around them, they dashed to the treeline and took up their positions. Soon enough, they heard the whine of darts overhead, followed by the rumbling of cruisers and an approaching Hive. They sat, waiting, as more Wraith appeared around them, battling their way into what remained of the facility. Ronon pulled another detonator from his pocket, and at John’s nod, set it off. The mouth of the facility collapsed, and the shrieks of the Wraith being crushed inside were plain to them even from some distance away.
“Incoming,” Rodney breathed quietly, staring at the life signs detector in his hand. The four life signs of their group were quickly being surrounded by those of the Wraith, and John took the detector from Rodney’s hand, replacing it with the man’s P90. Rodney grasped the gun firmly in his hands, the bleak look in his eyes not affecting the steadiness of the weapon he held. The four again took their defensive positions and waited.
The shots came quickly, and the team fought on as best they could. They knew that this was their final stand, the last act of Atlantis and, in a way, the Ancients themselves, at least in this galaxy. They had limited ammunition, and it was only a matter of time until they were overwhelmed, but still they fought on.
Rodney was the first to fall, gasping, to his knees, as blood poured from wounds in his shoulder and thigh. He brought his P90 up again, trying to squeeze off a few more rounds, and then he slumped forward, unmoving. John could see the blood pooling under his friend’s body.
Teyla began to sing under her breath, a song that John had heard all too often; an Athosian prayer to the Ancestors, asking safe passage for one fallen. He heard Ronon’s roar as he heard the song and saw his friend race forwards towards the incoming Wraith, gun firing from one hand and long knife slashing in the other. He made it only a few paces before he was hit by the blue blaze of a Stunner; the Wraith responsible stepped up to the unconscious man and lifted him into the air by his neck. With a look at John and Teyla, he effortlessly snapped Ronon’s neck and dropped him to the ground, smiling cruelly as he did.
Teyla continued her song, and suddenly all John could think of was his mother’s funeral, where they had all stood and prayed together. He had never been religious, not even spiritual really, but the words sprang to his lips now.; “Our Father, who art in Heaven…”
They continued to fight, firing into the crowds of Wraith around them, into the seemingly neverending sea of bodies. John felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and felt the sticky blood running down his arm, but ignored it; he heard the gasp of pain from behind him and knew that Teyla had also been hit, but though he listened for her body to fall, he instead heard the continued sounds of gunfire.
And then the Wraith were gone. John scanned around, felt Teyla doing the same behind him, but there were no more soldiers advancing upon their position, no more monsters leaping from behind trees. John continued to look around, pointing his gun this way and that, reaching into his pocket for the life signs detector he had taken from Rodney. He switched it on and studied the display. Two dots blinked in the center of the screen. No more were visible. Two had survived the impossible.
When he turned, Teyla was kneeling next to Rodney. She had pulled him onto his back, and was crossing his arms over his chest. He looked peaceful, John thought, which was something that Rodney had never appeared to be in life, even in his sleep. The worry lines on his forehead had smoothed out and his eyes were closed. Teyla murmured to him, Athosian words slipping from her mouth as she sat with her hands on his chest.
John walked away and stood by Ronon’s body, seeing no peace in the unnatural twist of his neck. He almost chuckled; even in death, Ronon’s face was snarling in the direction of the Wraith bodies around him. He knelt beside the large man, reaching to close his friend’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” he said, patting Ronon on the arm, as if they were back on Atlantis and in the Infirmary, Ronon with nothing more than a broken leg, off active duty for a few weeks until it healed up. John closed his eyes as the emotions bubbled inside him. Now was not the time.
They dug the graves silently, deep in the ground, next to each other. As they worked, they checked the life signs detector, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for more Wraith to appear. They tugged their friends’ bodies over and placed them as gently as they could in the holes, looking down at them silently for a moment. John reached down and grabbed a handful of the dirt, tossing it on Rodney’s still form as Teyla did the same for Ronon. They covered their friends, placing two small white stones as markers under the tree. Then they stepped back, really assessing each other for the first time.
Teyla raised a hand to his left shoulder, where a bullet had torn a hole. He shrugged the other shoulder, reaching with that hand to touch a patch of blood on the outside of her left thigh. She shook her head. They stepped closer to each other and reached out with a sudden blinding need for contact. It burned in his shoulder but he pulled her close to him; she leaned into his right side, taking some of the weight from her injured leg as she buried her face into his neck. They stood like that, neither saying a word, until she shifted back from him and turned back to the graves.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice low, aching. They walked slowly away towards the gate, which they dialed and stepped through.
So now they were two against the forces that be, the only two left of the mighty legacy that had been left to the galaxy by the Ancients. Without speaking, they knew that they would continue the fight set before them until it was over, one way or the other.
Until none remained.