Fanfiction: Worth Saving - Part I

[rachel500]

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Summary: John and Rodney have to face up to what happened when Jack visits Atlantis to investigate Wallace's death. 
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Rodney & John friendship; background Sam/Jack.  TAG to Miller's Crossing.  This started out life as a Sam in Atlantis story where Jack went to visit to do the investigation, but John and Rodney rightly pointed out it was their story.   
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Written for entertainment purposes only.

Worth Saving

John woke with a startled gasp for breath.

For a whole minute, he sat up in bed, clutching at his chest and trying to remember how to breathe, bathed in the early morning light drifting in through the window where he'd left his curtains open again.

The second minute was spent denying that for the eighth day in a row he'd woken up with the same panic clawing at him as it had when Rodney volunteered to be the Wraith's dinner, and battling the violent urge to radio Rodney and check that he was OK.

That urge was all but drowned out by the surge of regret, bitter and sharp, for his role in Henry Wallace's sacrifice and the heavy knowledge that he was damned glad it was Wallace and not Rodney.

John pushed back the covers and got up. He changed and headed out to meet Ronon for their morning run. They stretched in silence before setting off. John wondered if Ronon had worked out what happened; wondered if Ronon hated him for feeding a Wraith a human life even if the human involved had kidnapped and almost killed Rodney's sister. John had sent him back to report to Sam after the Wraith's arrival so maybe he hadn't worked it out. But he won't ask Ronon if he knew and Ronon won't tell so...John figured denial was a good place to be.

Teyla might have pressed John on what was bothering him but she was reeling from the loss of her people, too focused on that to see anyone else's emotions for once. God knew, John didn't blame her for being distracted; it was a huge loss, one he could barely comprehend and which left him flailing on the best way to comfort her, believing his promise to help her as much as they could wasn't enough. But even so…while John was grateful she wasn't beating him with sticks to get him to confess what was wrong, he was a little resentful that she hadn't noticed that something was wrong.

Rodney knew. His friend had tried three times to thank him, to talk as much as they ever talked about anything, but John didn't want to talk about it with Rodney. John wasn't sure if he was ready to fully admit out loud what he'd done; worried that he might have scared Rodney; terrified in ways he couldn't articulate that he might not have scared himself.

The whole Wallace mess was just that: a mess. John would be content to sweep it under the metaphorical rug and forget about it if he could only find a way of waking up without the panic.

It was a thought that stayed with him through a reasonably uneventful day. A couple of teams went off-world and returned with the news that no-one had any idea what had happened to the Athosians. John had presented the training session they'd planned for the Marines to Sam and gotten her sign-off. He'd attended two briefings; one on the situation with the Replicator code, one on a planet that had dinosaurs that some scientist on staff wanted to explore. John and Rodney spent that one exchanging Jurassic Park references until Sam shot them a look that said if they made one more she would be feeding them to the dinosaurs. John had checked on the Wraith; checked on Rodney; checked to make sure the Wraith hadn't eaten Rodney.

John had just finished his dinner when the communication filtered through the radio. Unscheduled incoming wormhole. He arrived in time to hear Chuck tell Sam it was Midway; General O'Neill.

John stood next to the gate technician while Sam skipped down the stairs to greet O'Neill. The General was in the BDUs he preferred, a suit-bag hooked over one shoulder, a duffle in his other hand. The silver hair was shorter than John remembered but it was ruffled much like John's own. Sam smiled a welcome and O'Neill smiled back but it soon faded.

Part of John hoped that O'Neill was on a surprise visit to see Sam. He never listened to rumours (if he did, it always turned out that he was supposedly sleeping with everybody) but he had his own suspicions about their relationship since he'd spotted a personal photo of the General in Sam's quarters when she'd moved in. But another part of him pointed out in a voice that sounded far too much like Rodney that John wasn't that lucky, and when the General's gaze landed on him for a long moment, John was certain of it. John gave a wary nod of acknowledgement as Sam led the General up and away into her office.

John was tempted to head straight for the puddle jumper bay and take one out for a spin so he could be somewhere else when the call came in for him to join them. Instead, he lurked in the control area, appropriated a chair and waited. He took out his PDA to look occupied.

Rodney showed up soon after, taking over a computer station, and wondering out loud to anyone in earshot why O'Neill was there. John ignored him, one eye sneaking to Sam's office so frequently that he immediately knew when Sam straightened and tapped her earpiece.

"Rodney; John; could you step in here, please?" Sam requested.

Rodney shut down his work and they walked over quickly. John shut the door behind them and stood next to Rodney beside Sam's desk. Sam moved to stand near to them as O'Neill got to his feet.

"Did you honestly think anyone was going to buy that Wallace had a lab accident?" O'Neill asked caustically.

John froze. He smoothed his face into an expressionless mask that hopefully said 'I don't know what you're talking about.' It didn't matter because Rodney's reaction was to go red, then white; guilt written all over his face as clearly as a jagged line on a polygraph as he darted one hand around as though seeking to pluck an argument he could use from thin air.

"Sir," John shifted into a formal position, hands behind his back and legs apart, "you should know that Rodney had nothing..."

"Ack!" O'Neill lifted a finger, cutting him off. "I'm going to leave Carter to explain the rest to you. I've had a long journey."

"I'll get some food sent to you." Sam said. She was already reaching for her earpiece.

Jack nodded, picked up his bags and left. Sam finished her orders and waved John and Rodney into chairs as she retook her own seat.

Rodney practically vibrated with impatience. "Sam..."

She raised her hand. "Let me explain it and we'll go over any other questions you have then."

"But..."

"Rodney." John's quiet admonishment did the trick and Rodney subsided into an unhappy heap in his chair. John slouched as though unconcerned but every muscle in his body was tense.

Sam shot him a grateful look and cleared her throat. "Interested parties who were aware of the existence of the programme raised concerns over Wallace's demise back on Earth. The Air Force, and specifically General O'Neill, stepped in when these parties demanded an investigation. The President had conceded that the Air Force has jurisdiction as the alleged crime happened on an Air Force base and the alleged suspect is an Air Force Lieutenant Colonel. The caveat was that they want the investigation recorded and the President has agreed to this. So, tomorrow, there will be two interviews with the General; one with you, Rodney, mainly about context and one with you, John, on the specifics of the incident. You'll need suits; make sure you look presentable."

Rodney muttered miserably underneath his breath and crossed his arms tight over his chest.

"Understood." John replied.

"Now, in your interviews..."

"I think we know what to do, Sam." Rodney interrupted.

"In your interviews," Sam repeated tersely, "you will only answer the question you are asked as succinctly as possible without providing any additional and unasked for information. Is that understood?"

Both John and Rodney answered "yes" in the same grudging tone that a teenager might have replied to their mother.

"Look," Sam sat back and regarded them seriously, "you need to put your game faces on here."

And just like that John knew she knew, and that O'Neill knew. He was a bit stunned at the lack of judgement they'd exhibited.

"Do exactly what I've said and by this time tomorrow, it should all be over." Sam finished.

Rodney frowned. "You're seriously expecting us to believe this isn't a witch hunt?"

"That might be what someone hoped would happen." Sam allowed. "But the General managed to get control of this. He's not here on a witch-hunt and he's going to do everything he can to make sure we don't lose you, John."

John was not entirely sure how O'Neill planned to bail him out; if he could bail him out. The report was a pack of lies; John had contravened God only knew how many regulations, broken at least one very big law, and he'd done it all without the flimsy protection of his chain of command. Sam had been too far away, and while he could have gone to Landry, John had never had the type of relationship with that particular General that made him think he'd get a positive response.

John nodded; his mind racing. "If that's all..." He was already half-way off his chair when Sam waved them out.

John sidestepped Rodney, muttered an apology and ostensibly went in search of Major Lorne to inform him of developments. But John ended up on a distant balcony. He knew he'd have to reassure Rodney before the interviews but the panicky feeling in his chest was back and John needed a minute to breathe.

o-O-o

Rodney let out an impatient huff as he brushed off John's offer to help him with his tie. "I can do it."

"Sure." John agreed with some of his usual easy sarcasm but he sat back down on Rodney's bed. John was in a t-shirt and combat pants; he hadn't changed as his interview wasn't until after lunch.

Rodney wished his interview was after John's but he had been scheduled first. Guilt slithered through Rodney. He had spent all night trying to think up ways to get John out of the investigation, but short of taking the blame himself, something he knew he couldn't since John had made sure that there were witnesses to Rodney being elsewhere at the time of Wallace's accident, he couldn't see a way out. Well, apart from grabbing John and a puddle jumper and taking off for the wild unknown of the Pegasus galaxy, and it was slightly worrying that he hadn't ruled that out.

It was all his fault. His fault for sending Jeannie the emails; his fault for getting kidnapped and convincing Jeannie to try and escape; his fault for provoking Wallace into injecting her with the nanites. His fault for...

"All done." Rodney said too brightly. He took a deep breath because he didn't want to freak John out by freaking out about the interview again. He'd done it the night before once John had swung by after informing Lorne of the investigation. The official email from Sam to the rest of the expedition said 'performance review.' Rodney had ranted about that for a good five minutes before realising John looked pale as though the reality of it all had sunk in. Luckily, Ronon and Teyla had dropped by to offer words of encouragement and support – or in Ronon's case a slap on the back.

Rodney's hands fluttered over his outfit. It was a grey suit teamed with a pale blue shirt and a pale grey tie. He hoped it projected professionalism and confidence.

"You look good." John confirmed.

"Really?" Rodney hated the note of uncertainty that tinged the word but John simply nodded.

"Just, you know, do what Sam said and this should all be over soon." John didn't look like he believed it any more than Rodney did.

"Right." Rodney tried a confident smile but it felt more like a grimace. He collapsed onto his bed beside John with a groan. "This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. I'm not good at bluffing and I'm a terrible liar."

"Rodney," John said with some exasperation, "I doubt very much that the General's going to outright ask anything specific so relax."

John was probably right. Rodney had a sneaking suspicion that Jack O'Neill had a soft spot for John - possibly related to John saving his life a couple of times; that O'Neill knew what John had done but wanted to help him anyway so part of that was probably not asking questions that would reveal anything too incriminating.

"Right. I'm relaxed." Rodney stated.

John sighed. He looked as though he hadn't slept. "I have to..." he gestured at the door. "Are you..."

"I'll be fine." And he would be because John was depending on him to be fine; John's continued assignment to Atlantis was resting on Rodney being fine.

Another slither of guilt snaked through Rodney's gut.

John hesitated as though he was contemplating saying something more but he nodded and left. Rodney checked his appearance in the mirror again and headed for the conference room where the interviews were taking place.

His outfit elicited more than one double take as he made his way through the airy and bright Atlantean corridors, but the second looks were usually accompanied by a nod and the words 'good luck' which remind him again why he loved Atlantis. His hands curled into sweaty fists and he had to fight the urge to wipe them off on his pants. He could do this, Rodney told himself briskly, he could did this for John, especially after what John had done for him.

Sam greeted him outside the room. She was in her service dress; blouse, jacket and skirt. Her hair was neatly arranged in a chignon; her make-up subtle and alluring. She looked beautiful but he was too nervous to appreciate her.

"Ready?" She said in a low voice.

He didn't answer for a long moment, so afraid he was going to screw up and John was going to end up in a prison cell for the rest of his life.

"It's going to be OK, McKay." Sam said quietly. "Trust me." Her hand on his arm grounded him.

Rodney looked at her and took another deep breath. Of course, if there was one person who Sam trusted more than anyone in the entire universe, it was O'Neill. And they were on their side; his and John's. Maybe not to the extent that Elizabeth Weir would have been but enough that he knew he could trust them.

Sam gave an approving nod at whatever expression had replaced the panic. She pushed him gently into the room. Rodney found O'Neill sat at the head of the table and looking at a laptop. The General was also in his service dress with an impressive number of medals and ribbons adorning it.

O'Neill waved him into a seat while Sam sorted out the video.

"For the record," O'Neill began, "your name and position."

Rodney answered smartly with his usual emphasis on Doctor.

"Give a brief description of your responsibilities here on Atlantis."

O'Neill didn't even bother looking up from his monitor and Rodney almost snapped at him for wasting time with nonsensical questions, wanting to get on with it already.

Sam shot him a warning look and Rodney obediently recited off the official list of duties that Elizabeth had forced him to write when the Atlantis expedition was debriefing on Earth after their first year. He missed Elizabeth all over again by the time he finished, with the memory of putting together the list as clear in his head as the day that it had happened.

O'Neill glanced up as though to check Rodney had actually stopped talking and went on with his next question. "Describe your relationship with Jeannie Miller."

"She's my sister." Rodney answered with a silent 'idiot.'

O'Neill nodded. "Just over a week ago, you and she were kidnapped by Henry Wallace. She was injected with experimental nanites," his mouth twisted at the word and Rodney was reminded that O'Neill had experience of the things personally, "by him in order to force you into completing the coding in nanites he had also injected into his sick daughter, was that correct?"

"Yes." Rodney barely stopped himself from saying anything else; to flow into a rant on Wallace and to explain what had happened. Only the knowledge that he would end up babbling about his own terror at seeing Jeannie injected stopped him.

"Could you explain what the nanites are and why they are experimental?"

"In simplistic terms, the nanites are small microscopic robots," Rodney explained swiftly, "they can be programmed to perform a variety of functions such as aging..."

O'Neill looked up for the first time and glared at him.

"...or in this case, medical repair." Rodney hurried out. "The idea behind this is brilliant, even if I do say so myself; you programme the nanites to repair the human body. It could literally be the answer to curing cancer, brain disease, any number of conditions." His hands weaved in excited passion across the table.

"But." O'Neill prompted.

"As we've said the nanites are experimental." Rodney sighed. "The original, uh, test was performed on replicator nanites but obviously those are too dangerous to use so Wallace used a human equivalent which are not quite so sophisticated. There are two issues with the ones he...he..." His breathing escalated as he talked; his heart pounded with remembered fear. He paused and tried to calm down. "The ones he used." He rushed out quickly.

"On his daughter and your sister." O'Neill stated.

Rodney glared at him for the reminder but he realised from the strangely compassionate warmth in O'Neill's brown eyes that he wasn't trying to hurt Rodney but to remind the anticipated audience of the video about Wallace's actions.

"Yes," Rodney confirmed slowly, "the ones Wallace used on his daughter and my sister."

"The two issues, Doctor McKay?" O'Neill said brusquely.

"Right." Rodney gestured towards O'Neill. "Well, effectively there's one issue with the hardware and another with the software. The hardware isn't resilient and it has a shelf-life which is the reason why Wallace's daughter ultimately died although the damage had already been done because of the software issue. It was why Wallace kidnapped myself and Jeannie. He thought we could complete the programming code."

"And did you?"

"Crudely." Rodney grimaced. "The original code is replicator code. It's not...not easy to understand or to anticipate the outcome when you change it."

"And the outcome in this case?" O'Neill continued ruthlessly.

"We managed to programme the nanites to fix the human body but they had no real understanding of the complexity of what they were doing. They attempted to fix Sharon Wallace's heart murmur but they shut down the heart to fix it without considering the impact to the rest of the body." He wet his lips. "Effectively they killed her by depriving her brain of oxygen. My sister...my sister has epilepsy. There was a danger that once they identified the condition, the nanites would shut down her brain to fix it."

"The medical staff broke her legs to give the nanites something else to fix." O'Neill stated.

Rodney nodded miserably.

"You requested the help of the Wraith to work on a shut-down code for the nanites."

It was another statement and again Rodney nodded. "General Landry and Colonel Carter authorised his travel to the SGC in order to assist me."

O'Neill clasped his hands on top of the table and pinned McKay with a hard stare. "Do you believe that he would have been able to finish the coding without...eating?"

"No." Rodney shook his head. "His focus was slipping and he collapsed with weakness. I know how that felt being hypoglycaemic myself and…"

"You reported this to Colonel Sheppard?" Jack asked, cutting Rodney off briskly before he could get started on a treatise about the condition.

Rodney finally darted a look at Sam. She nodded almost imperceptibly. He had to admit this; had to admit that he was the one who provided John with motive to do what he did. But he didn't want to admit it: not to himself never mind to anyone else, never mind to John.

"Yes." Rodney allowed shortly.

But the want and need to explain, to tell them everything, that it was all his fault because he'd told John he would sacrifice himself to save his sister, was almost too much. He dropped his gaze immediately, aware that the video was picking up everything.

"You weren't present in the lab for the rest of events?" Jack asked briefly.

"No." Rodney had been locked out of the lab by John. He'd only found out when it had all been over. He closed his eyes at the memory of the body bag being wheeled away and the look in John's eyes. Guilt assaulted him again.

"Thank you." Jack stood. '"That will be all."

"That's it?" Rodney spluttered, unable to believe it was over.

"Thank you for your participation, Doctor." O'Neill said and nodded to Sam to shut down the video.

Sam reached over and the small click echoed in the room. Sam gently nudged Rodney and they headed out of the conference room.

"Was that..." Rodney's mouth dried up as he turned to her in the corridor. "Was that OK?"

"You did good, McKay." Sam patted his arm.

Somehow the reassurance was not half as comforting as Rodney thought it would be.

o-O-o

The sudden hush as he entered the mess made John realise he had miscalculated. He ignored the urge to glance down at his service dress. He should have had lunch first and then changed, John considered ruefully. Of course, he'd left both changing and eating to the last moment so there wasn't any time to redo his decision.

He headed toward the cabinet with the sandwiches, abruptly deciding to go eat in the office he shared with Lorne. He picked up a turkey sandwich, an apple and a bottle of water. His eyes caught on a table of female scientists who usually never gave him the time of day but who were apparently fascinated with his uniform. Any other time he might have been amused. He smiled tightly and left.

Lorne was caught up in paperwork when John entered and paid no attention as John slid into the chair behind his own desk and opened the sandwich.

John's stomach rolled over in protest at the idea of food; he managed two bites before he abandoned it and picked up the water.

Rodney had already radioed him to tell him his interview had gone OK according to Sam. Rodney had also hesitantly instructed John not to do something stupid in his own interview. John knew Rodney was vaguely worried that John would suddenly have the urge to blurt out the truth to the General. John was only too aware that it was a valid worry; John had been skating over his guilty conscience with the mantra that he'd only presented the situation for the last nine days and the ice was wearing thin.

"You should eat something, sir." Lorne said without looking up from whatever form he was filling in with a diligence John appreciated because it meant less work for him.

John stared down at the food. One edge of the bread was curling up sadly, drying out rapidly in the air-conditioned office. "Don't want to get mayonnaise on the suit."

Lorne hummed but he didn't say anything else. John was reminded of the Major's words after John had explained the investigation; "I'm sure General O'Neill and Colonel Carter will get this sorted out quickly, sir." John wondered at the total confidence Lorne had in O'Neill and Carter. It wasn't hero worship because he'd seen that in others at the SGC but it was a certainty that came with experience. John forgot sometimes that Lorne was a veteran of the Stargate programme.

There was a faint knock on the door before it opened.

Sam poked her head into the room. "We're ready for you, John."

John got to his feet.

"Good luck, sir." Lorne called out as John fell into step beside Sam.

They didn't talk on the way to the room and John forced himself to pretend a casual air he didn't feel. The room felt cold when John entered it. The General was waiting impatiently on the other side of the table and John automatically snapped into the 'attention' stance that had been drilled into him. He was trying to treat this with the seriousness that it warranted but he had to clamp down hard on the hysteria of fear and panic that threatened to bubble up into laughter.

"Sit down, Colonel." O'Neill said, taking his own seat with an audible thump.

John figured the first few questions covered some of the same ground that Rodney's interview must have covered; Wallace's abduction of Rodney and Jeannie, the rescue, the issue with saving Jeannie Miller's life and the use of the Wraith. John was quiet and composed with his answers, sticking to Carter's advice to only answer the question asked. Finally, they got to the point.

O'Neill settled back and waved a hand at him. "McKay informed you that the Wraith was unlikely to finish the coding due to it being weak with hunger."

"That's correct." John replied. A muscle worked in John's jaw; the only hint that Rodney's report had been followed by Rodney's plan to feed himself to the Wraith to save his sister.

"The reports showed that immediately after that meeting you went to see Wallace." Jack noted crisply, tapping the laptop in front of him. "Why?"

John didn't flinch. "There were a few details I needed to go over with him." He saw O'Neill's eyes narrow on him, a warning presumably not to be overly cocky but the answer had a ring of authenticity that John knew would play well on the video.

"And in going over these details, you told him about the situation with Mrs Miller and the issue with the Wraith?" O'Neill continued smoothly.

"Yes." John didn't bother to deny it. In his mind, it was another piece of honesty in his favour.

O'Neill dropped his gaze to his notes. "Your report stated Wallace requested to see the latest research?"

"Yes."

"And you decided to take him on a jaunt to the lab with the Wraith inside of it?" The tone was suddenly hard and uncompromising. He looked up to pin John with a stern gaze.

John stiffened, sensing an attack but he didn't look away from the General. "It was where the latest research was, sir."

There was a hint of 'pissed off' and 'just what the hell were you accusing me of' in the sir.

"Why did you allow it?" O'Neill shot back.

John licked his lips, his mouth drying up as the memory assaulted him of Wallace volunteering his life to help Jeannie. "Wallace said he could help."

"Really?" O'Neill drawled. "You didn't find that unusual since he'd kidnapped McKay and Miller for their help?"

"I was desperate." John retorted spiritedly. "So yes, when he said he could help, I believed him."

It was all truth. It just didn't mean what John hoped everybody else would be fooled into thinking it meant.

"You took two guards in with you but they reported you dismissed them almost immediately and told them to wait outside?"

John had looked after his men and ensured they wouldn't be implicated. "The Wraith was weak with hunger and I thought I could handle him on my own."

"Your report stated that Wallace was talking with the Wraith about the research and you turned away."

John lowered his gaze before the flinch of pain, of disgust, of horror, showed on his face. In truth he hadn't turned away at all.

"Yes." John answered shortly, managing to hold back the additional 'that's what the report said' which would be the give-away that the report was worthless as a record of what had happened.

"You realised there was a silence and turned back to find the Wraith moving away from Wallace who had been fed upon." O'Neill continued ruthlessly.

"Yes."

John winced as the emotion he couldn't hide vibrated through the single stark word; guilt, regret, hurt.

"He was dead?" O'Neill asked bluntly.

"He was."

"Why wasn't the Wraith forced to return Wallace's life?" O'Neill asked.

"I can answer that, General." Sam asserted, resting a hand on John's arm.

John turned to her gratefully. He knew she'd stepped in to give him a break, not because he couldn't answer the question and he appreciated the save. Maybe she also thought that it would carry more weight if she said it; she was the SGC's golden girl not a pilot with a black mark that would always be remembered by the people with power no matter what his accomplishments since.

"As you know we only realised the Wraith could return the life of someone they had taken because of Colonel Sheppard's experience after being tortured by the Wraith when he was captured by the Genii." Sam began. "Since the Wraith has been on Atlantis, I've spoken to it regarding its food requirements. I had hoped if it could feed temporarily, we could arrange something."

John blanched at that but he wasn't surprised she had already thought about it and investigated solutions.

"He informed me that it was only possible to return a life when he was fully fed. For example, the Wraith returned Colonel Sheppard's life after it fed upon several Genii soldiers."

"So, a hungry Wraith that had fed on one human...?" O'Neill's voice trailed away on a high questioning note.

"Can't return that life." Sam confirmed.

O'Neill turned back to John. "You immediately secured the Wraith and called for a medical team and the security guards?"

That part of it was backed up by several statements including Landry's. "Yes. We were in the process of removing the body when Doctor McKay arrived back at the lab."

"You know there's a cliché that comes to mind," O'Neill said caustically, "something about barns and doors and horses?"

"Yes, sir." Sheppard agreed softly. He looked down at the table.

O'Neill sighed heavily. "I think we're about done unless you have something you want to add."

John slid a look towards Sam. "I'd like to make a short statement." He'd already discussed it with her and she'd agreed.

Sam nodded at O'Neill.

"Go ahead, Colonel." O'Neill invited expansively.

John clasped his hands in front of him; his knuckles were white and there was a faint tremor in the fingers. He hoped it didn't show on the video. "I regret the death of Henry Wallace but I do not regret that it ultimately allowed the Wraith to finish the coding of the nanites which saved Doctor McKay's sister. I believe that Wallace's request to help and his silence during the feeding were an indication that he gave his life willingly as a way to redeem his previous actions. However, his death was my responsibility and I am prepared to accept the consequences."

O'Neill held John's gaze for a long moment, as though weighing everything John had said and not said. John knew O'Neill probably knew everything after his speech; that John had given Wallace a choice but that he had arranged it.

O'Neill nodded and looked over at Sam. She stopped the video.

John blew out a breath. "What now, sir?"

Sam passed O'Neill the small digital card that held the video. The General looked over at her, a half-formed question in his eyes that John couldn't interpret. She arched one elegant eyebrow, answering in a way that left John none the wiser. He'd be irritated with the almost telepathy if he didn't have the same kind of thing with his own team and hell, both O'Neill and Sam had more years of serving together than he had in the entire programme.

"Sir?" John prompted impatiently. He wanted it to be done with; to have O'Neill give him the verdict on the investigation and whether he could get back to his job or not.

"Tell me, Sheppard," O'Neill asked almost idly as though he was unconcerned at what the answer was going to be, "if Wallace hadn't invited himself along to the lab, who would have been on the menu?"

John knew the answer was on his face, in his eyes, before he could hide it.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." O'Neill said. He tapped his earpiece. "Doctor McKay to the conference room. Now, McKay."

John's heart sank.

Continued in Part II.