Fanfiction: Broken Wings, Chapter 14
05/08/2011 08:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rachel500John looked around the breakfast table and thought the whole thing was surreal.
They were in Kansas, which called to mind all kinds of inappropriate jokes both Oz and Superman related, and sat outside of the Mitchells' farm house at the picnic table. The morning sun was shining brightly; there was a nice breeze tugging listlessly on their clothing and lightly ruffling hair-dos. Both the flagship teams of the SGC and Atlantis crowded each other either side of the table, elbows prodding into each other as they wrestled for space. They laughed and joked for the most part, like it really was some kind of weird reunion party and not the start of them trying to work out a way to get to the Lucien Alliance before they got to Mitchell.
John had Rodney on his left and Teal'c on his right with Vala at the end. Across the table, Mitchell was between Teyla and Daniel with Ronon opposite Vala. Mitchell's parents had taken either end; his father, Frank, presided over the table while Wendy, Mitchell's Mom, stayed closest to the house where she could dip in and out to bring them more food or drink.
John's eyes scanned the immediate vicinity; they checked out the wide blue sky with its fluffy white clouds. His eyes connected with Mitchell's across the table and Mitchell nodded in agreement with him; they were clear. There were no Lucien Alliance guys hiding in the bushes; nothing on the radar.
John tried to shrug away the feeling of being disconnected and focused on his food. It had been a crazy twenty-four hours getting the gang together. John was pleased that they were all finally in the same time-zone. John and Mitchell had met Ronon and Teal'c in Kansas City at the Sheppard airfield there. Dave's assistant had arranged a mini-van which had been a good call. They'd picked up Rodney and Daniel who'd flown in from San Francisco. Mitchell had driven them to his parents. They'd arrived late. There had barely been any time for introductions and to hug Teyla hello before Wendy had noted how tired they all looked and they'd all been bundled off to bed like recalcitrant children. John, Ronon and Rodney were bedded down in Frank's study; the guys of SG1 in the den, with Vala and Teyla sharing Mitchell's old room. It was cosy.
It was only for the next day or so, John told himself. The Alliance buying that they were all having a mid-vacation get together over the weekend was one thing; all of them staying together beyond that would generate suspicion. Sam had pointed that out to them.
She had been fairly open to the idea of a pre-emptive strike when Mitchell and John had called her. They had carefully left out that they knew everything and just focused on making the case for doing something, although John thought Sam knew that Rodney had hacked the files. Sam had made some good points; they had no idea what the size of the Lucien Alliance team was, or who the team was, or where their base of operations was; all they knew for certain was that Mitchell was a target and the Alliance would make a grab for him.
But Sam had come through for them. She'd been the one to take the idea to Landry and O'Neill and secure them the chance to come up with a plan. She'd sent them the latest intelligence; their old friend Stan had back-tracked through the original source material to find out what the Alliance spy Gina Lovell had excised. Sam had been the one to organise replacements for Ronon and Teal'c, and to convince Woolsey to let Rodney have the weekend away from repairs.
John watched as Mitchell's Dad reached for his crutches and hoisted himself to his feet. Mitchell had explained about his Dad's loss of legs in a crashed test flight; about how his father had worked so hard to walk again so John had a lot of admiration for Frank right off the bat. But it was more than that; John could see why Mitchell idolised his father. Frank Mitchell was a great Dad and his gaze often rested proudly on Mitchell; lovingly. He was the type of Dad John had yearned for; the one he didn't get.
The thought startled him and John lost his appetite abruptly. He pushed his plate with what remained of his waffle toward Rodney and slid back, climbing easily out of the confines of the bench. He took a few empty plates back into the kitchen before he dived into the downstairs' bathroom. He busied himself with actually using the facilities before he stood for a while in front of the mirror.
John stared into his reflection. He looked like he always did in civilian mode; messy hair, button down shirt, jeans, hiking boots rather than combat. The shadow of his beard was already beginning despite the early hour. He ran a hand over his jaw and winced at the bruise acquired when Mitchell had punched him. There was a familiar, weary look in his eyes.
His thoughts were jumbled but one circled all the others; why couldn't his father love him like Frank loved Mitchell? What had stopped Patrick Sheppard from loving John unconditionally, to have seen beyond John's stubbornness about flying and to have loved him anyway? Had it been something about John? Or had it been because John hadn't saved his mother, Patrick Sheppard's wife?
The hollow ache in his chest was his only answer.
He left the bathroom before it became clear to everyone that he was hiding. He wandered back into the kitchen and found Frank balanced against the kitchen sink, washing dishes. John immediately headed over to help him, taking a checked towel from a nearby peg.
'You don't need to do that.' Frank said.
John shrugged with one shoulder and continued drying the plate he picked up. 'I've done my share of KP. I think I can handle it.'
Frank laughed. They worked for a while, Frank asking him about the aircraft John had flown until there was a neat stack of plates on the side table and John had swapped out one damp cloth for another.
Rodney wandered through. He looked over at John silently checking that everything was OK and John nodded. Rodney pointed towards the study, telling John without words that he was going to get everything set up and John nodded again. Rodney left and John turned back to find Frank watching him with a warm smile. John fought the urge to blush.
'You have a good team.' Frank said.
'I do.' John said proudly because his team was pretty great.
'I should thank you.' Frank continued.
John looked over at him quizzically. 'For what?'
Frank gestured with his head towards the window.
John looked out. He saw Ronon and Teyla first; his eyes gravitating towards his own team automatically, checking they were OK. They were off to the side, going through a series of bantos moves, fluid and dynamic, well-practiced.
They were giving a demonstration to SG1, John realised belatedly as he took in Mitchell watching at the side, standing with his head cocked, hands on his hips. Teal'c stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back, an approving look on his heavy features. Mitchell leaned in to say something to the Jaffa and Teal'c inclined his head in agreement before Mitchell said something to Vala and Daniel on his other side, waving at Ronon and Teyla as though explaining something – maybe the similarities between the Sodan training and the Athosian.
'Looking at him now, I can't believe a week ago he could hardly bear to be in the same room as them.' Frank said quietly.
John felt awkward. It wasn't as though Mitchell had confided anything in him, but there was knowing and knowing and John knew even if he and Mitchell had never talked about it. 'It's hard to hide in a team.'
Frank gave a harrumph and eyed John speculatively. 'He's better and that's thanks to you.'
'He's working it out himself.' John said honestly, unwilling to take credit. 'All I've done is…'
'Be his friend.' Frank held onto the platter dish he'd just washed when John went to take it. He met John's eyes pointedly. 'We appreciate that.'
John had never been good at emotional honesty. He nodded and looked down at his feet. Frank let go of the platter.
John felt the urge to say something ripple over his skin like an all over itch but his throat closed up. He wasn't sure what to say; what he wanted to say. My Dad died. I miss him. I loved him. I wanted him to be like you and I hate that he wasn't and that it was probably my fault. And skirting the edges of all of it, the unvarnished truth behind his own need to take off flying for two weeks; I'm so goddamn tired of losing people; of being too late to save them like I was too late to save my Mom.
'We're ready.' Rodney's voice shattered the silence without warning.
John's fingers clenched around the platter to avoid dropping it. He glanced over his shoulder. Rodney hovered in the doorway and his chin was up; his blue eyes darting away from John's guiltily. He'd probably just overheard Frank, John considered, ignoring the frisson of fear that maybe Rodney had heard John's thoughts too. John hadn't been kidding Frank; it was hard to hide in a team. Looking at Rodney, John realised his rock-solid belief that the others were too distracted by the other relationships in their lives to notice that John was hiding something wasn't as rock-solid as it had been ten minutes before.
'I'll get the others.' John set the platter down carefully and Frank divested him of the towel with a smile.
It was a short walk out to gather them. They came in grumbling. John watched surreptitiously as Mitchell checked on his Dad, as his Mom joined them and started fussing. They looked like a family. They looked normal. The lump in John's throat was painful. He turned away and marched into the study.
Rodney's cot was set off to the side of the desk with the additional folded blankets and pillows that John and Ronon had used to sleep on the floor stacked on top of it. Rodney had multiple laptops running along with a small wireless router that enabled Rodney to log into the SGC network. There was a stack of folders that Rodney had brought with him; intelligence reports, transcripts, and other data that hopefully would help them work out a plan.
John plonked himself on the wooden chair next to the very comfortable desk chair Rodney had appropriated. Teyla sat cross-legged on the cot and Vala scrambled up to sit next to her. They made an unlikely pair but Teyla's warm smile as Vala nudged her shoulder said that the two women had bonded. Ronon dropped to the floor to sit, stretching his long legs out; Teal'c took a seat on the two-seater sofa with Daniel beside him. Mitchell wandered in, looked at the available space and sighed heavily. He lowered himself to sit on the floor by Ronon and John thought the wince wasn't just for show.
Rodney performed the briefing because he'd been the one that had cracked Landry's files. He weaved the story to date well, his hands cutting in and out of the air as he jumped from one logical point to another. John let his mind drift a little because he'd heard it all before and he was impatient to get to the next step: trying to understand what they didn't know. His eyes were drawn to the sky beyond the window. It was the first day that they hadn't been in the air. He already missed it. He looked back and his eyes collided with Mitchell's; understanding and rueful empathy shone in the blue depths. John offered a small smirk of acknowledgement.
'…and I think that brings us to our current point which is trying to plan how not to die horribly while capturing the Lucien Alliance team.' Rodney punctuated the end of his part by sitting down in his chair.
'Are we sure it is wise to provoke them?' Teyla asked. 'Would it not be sensible to wait for them to make their move?'
John avoided looking at Mitchell because Teyla would beat them both with sticks if they laughed. 'If we wait for them to make their move, we can't guarantee that we'll have the advantage.' He sat forward, assuming a commanding position without thinking about it. 'What we need is a trap.'
'With me as bait.' Mitchell agreed, folding his arms over his chest.
'If it's too obvious they won't fall for it.' Vala pointed out, blowing a bubble which popped loudly.
'She's right.' Daniel said. 'Since Netan was taken out, they've been remarkably not stupid in their plan to take over the galaxy, and we don't have a lot to go on.'
'Which is why we're here.' John gestured at Rodney who rolled his eyes at him but obligingly reached for the stack of paper. 'Assignments; we need to try and figure out as much as we can about the team sent to grab Mitchell. This is all the original intelligence that their spy at the NID managed to keep from us.'
Ronon jumped up and thrusts a thumb towards the door. 'I'll keep an eye on the perimeter.'
John would like to say he was surprised but he wasn't. Ronon hated paperwork, but he'd be there with his gun when he was needed.
Teal'c moved smoothly to his feet. 'I will assist.' They were out of the door before anyone could offer a protest.
'I don't suppose that excuse would work for me?' Mitchell asked, looking longingly after them.
'Nope.' Daniel threw a report at him. 'This was your idea.'
'It was Sheppard's.' Mitchell claimed furiously. John didn't get the chance to be irked because Daniel was already answering.
'Of course it was.' Daniel shot back. 'Yours was to run off alone and get yourself killed.'
Mitchell went an interesting shade of red.
'They do that.' Rodney sympathised.
John shot him a look. 'We're here, aren't we?'
Rodney sniffed and handed him a huge stack of paper. 'Well, maybe you're not entirely an idiot these days.'
'Gee, thanks Rodney.' John said dryly and sighed as he began to skim the text. Somehow he had a feeling he was going to end up knowing more about the Lucien Alliance than he really wanted to know by the end of the day.
Three hours in, they were no closer to knowing anything about anything. Their small pile of useful information had five meagre pieces of paper on it.
John pressed his fingers into his eyes and wondered if he could poke right through to the pain that was throbbing in his head. 'Has anybody got anything?'
'Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Zero…'
'McKay.' John interrupted him with a sigh.
'Look, I'm sorry,' Rodney said, 'but this spy they had at the NID obviously did a good job of making sure that anything useful never made it into our hands, and what she let through was vague enough to be entirely useless.'
'I can't believe I'm going to say this,' Mitchell said, throwing down the report that he'd been going through, 'but McKay's right. This is getting us nowhere.'
'What do we have?' John asked because maybe looking at what they had uncovered would improve their morale.
'One picture of the NID spy,' Rodney listed briskly, 'attractive in a very Susan Sarandon kind of way; one vague email confirming five new identities have been constructed; two general communications noting that the plan was proceeding on schedule and one confirmation of plans to buy a warehouse in Paris which was where, uh…' he waved at Mitchell in lieu of saying where Mitchell had been planning to honeymoon.
'Maybe we should go back to plan A.' Mitchell suggested brightly.
'Intergalactic warfare?' asked Vala with a cheeky smile aimed at John.
Mitchell's momentary confusion disappeared as he waved away her suggestion. 'I mean we put me in a trap.'
'Works for me.' Rodney chipped in.
John sighed heavily. 'McKay.'
'It's his plan!' Rodney pointed out even as his cheeks flared red.
'This kind of work just takes time.' Daniel said without looking up from the mass of paper that surrounded him.
Mitchell rolled his eyes expressively. 'Right. Which we don't have.'
'Perhaps a short recess is in order?' Teyla stretched and moved off the cot as though it was a done deal. 'I believe I would like a walk.'
Fresh air. Exercise. It sounded good to John.
'Want some company?' John asked, standing and performing his own stretch, easing out the kinks in his shoulders and neck. His ass was numb.
'I would like that.' Teyla smiled at him, her dark eyes warming with friendship and fondness.
'Rodney?' John turned to the other member of their team present but Rodney was already gesturing towards one of the laptops.
'Actually if we're taking a break from this then there's stuff that I should check on.'
John nodded and Rodney was gone; diving into the Atlantis systems with a single-minded focus that John appreciated more when they were in a fix and needed Rodney focused.
'I'm going to stay here.' Daniel continued not looking at them.
'Me too.' Vala said brightly.
Mitchell shrugged. 'I'll catch up with Teal'c and Ronon.' He started to lever himself off the floor.
John motioned for Teyla to head out and followed behind her.
'Hell!' Mitchell gasped suddenly. For a second, Mitchell flailed and the prospect of him falling back on the floor was a distinct possibility.
John was beside Mitchell in a heartbeat, one hand grabbing Mitchell's arm to steady him and the other going around his waist to hold him upright and take his weight. Mitchell leaned on him heavily for a minute, breathing rapidly, and white under his tan.
'Cramp.' Mitchell claimed tightly. 'Sorry.'
Daniel finally looked up from the papers and frowned at his team-mate. 'You OK?'
'I'm fine, Jackson.' Mitchell said breezily. He motioned at the cot with his head and John shuffled a step and helped lower him onto it.
Vala crawled over, concerned. 'I can get the healing device.'
'It's just a cramp.' Mitchell repeated with an easy smile as he rubbed at his left thigh. 'Sat on the floor too damn long; that's all.'
But John had spent enough time with Mitchell to see past the smile and understand the assurance was bravado. Mitchell was definitely hurt.
John stepped back, hands on hips, and tilted his head. 'So, the device will take care of that, right?'
Mitchell's eyes snapped to his and there was a weird moment where John knew Mitchell knew John knew. Mitchell grimaced. 'I'll be fine.'
This time John believed him because implicit in Mitchell's statement was that he wasn't fine right at that moment. John nodded. Rodney caught John's eye as he turned to leave again and John shook his head almost imperceptibly. Forget it; not important. Rodney turned back to his machines.
John and Teyla wandered out of the house and walked at a steady pace down the driveway. It was a companionable silence. John felt the tension eek out of him with each step. They paused some distance away from the house and stared back at the open countryside.
'Your world is very beautiful.' Teyla said quietly.
Her dark eyes were contemplative; her face serene. And John was suddenly deeply pleased to be standing in the middle of Kansas with her. That he got to finally be with her on some part of Earth that wasn't the grey concrete of the SGC or some messed-up virtual existence created by mist beings.
'I'm glad you like it.' It must be weird for her, he realised; a whole planet populated and with most of that population completely unaware of the existence of alien life never mind alien threats. They'd never encountered a world like theirs in Pegasus.
'The Mitchells are good people.'
John couldn't argue with that.
Teyla turned her face up to the sun. 'Wendy has graciously invited me to visit again with Kanaan and Torren. I would like to bring them here before we leave Earth.'
'Sure.' John nodded. He remembered thinking of showing his team Clancyville. Maybe they could visit the ranch too, and maybe Jeannie in Canada because Rodney's sister would never forgive them if they left Earth without stopping by.
'We should head back.' Teyla said.
They turned around and John smiled when she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
'And what of you, John?' Teyla asked quietly. 'Current circumstances notwithstanding, you seem…lighter.'
John lifted his eyebrows, tilting backwards slightly as he met her questioning gaze. 'I, maybe, needed a vacation.'
Teyla's lips curved. 'You deserve one.'
The corner of John's mouth lifted of its own accord.
They walked a few more steps before Teyla spoke again. 'Mister Woolsey informed us of the situation with an organisation called the Trust?'
'Did he now?' John kept his eyes on the driveway; the patches of grass and flowers along the edge.
'You are concerned for your brother.' Teyla said with her usual unerring accuracy.
'He is my brother.' John said evasively, continuing to walk.
'Then you have made progress with him?' Teyla asked pointedly.
John had never talked to her about his brother. He assumed that she'd heard about him from Ronon or Rodney. 'Maybe.' He allowed because he and Dave had made some progress. He'd remembered Dave wasn't his father, and found out Dave had his own issues about their mother's death; their father's.
John slid a look towards Teyla. Family was treasured in Teyla's mind and heart; Teyla's parents, Tagan and Torren, had probably had a lot of common values with the Mitchells and he was glad she'd met them. He and Rodney weren't exactly advertisements for healthy family relationships; alone, they could have left Teyla with a very skewed view of typical Earth families. There were parental battles, jealousies and sibling fights aplenty in Pegasus – Dave, at least, had never sent Genii bounty hunters out to kill John – but John was aware that power struggles in Pegasus were about survival underneath any surface illusion of pettiness.
He knew Teyla didn't understand why Rodney hadn't spoken to Jeannie for years because she'd asked Rodney once at lunch. John had borne witness to the other man's stumbling and defensive explanation and Teyla's continuing bemusement. He thought she probably didn't understand why John had all but denied the existence of his family; he wasn't looking forward to the moment she asked and he had to produce his own stumbling and defensive explanation. Maybe he'd borrow Rodney's…
'Sometimes family is endured.'
John had only just managed not to nod in agreement at that.
They were almost back at the house.
Teyla's hand squeezed his arm. 'Wendy informed me of Colonel Mitchell's injuries from a…a crash? She said it took many months for him to walk again. I did not realise his injury still troubled him given his place on SG1.'
John shrugged. 'He was probably right; too much time sitting on the floor.' Mitchell's injury was his own business; the guy had to be mission fit because John couldn't see Lam, the dragon in charge of the SGC infirmary, allowing him on missions if he wasn't.
A lot of pilots would never have come back from the 302 crash; would never have made the recovery Mitchell had worked his ass off to achieve. John wasn't sure he could have done it. He'd crashed a few times, and each time had left its own kind of scars on John's psyche. Teyla had been a passenger when they'd crashed in the jumper, and most recently in a hive ship, but it was hard to describe to someone who didn't fly what it meant to be the pilot when the aircraft went down. Mitchell's crash by all accounts had been a doozy.
The events after the Battle of Antarctica were a jumbled mess in John's mind of what he'd known then and what he'd learned after joining the programme. Then, he'd been nothing more than a helicopter pilot with a black mark suddenly called into classified search and rescue duties with a few others while the rest of McMurdo went on lockdown. He hadn't been the one to pull Mitchell out of the wreckage of his 302; he'd been too busy pulling bodies out of others.
He remembered it as a flurry of forty-eight long hours where he'd barely been on the ground except for refuelling; one flight after another across the ice; to check they'd found all their people; to report the status of the crashed enemy. On the third day, new pilots had shown up and the McMurdo pilots had been thanked, told to sign their signatures to a stack of non-disclosure agreements and dismissed.
John hadn't bothered to go along with the others to drink and moan about the unfairness of being cut out of the loop; he'd been involved with too much classified stuff himself before his black mark to dwell on the truth that the government kept secrets. He had slept for twelve hours instead. Maybe he'd wondered absently about the enemy; who they were, whether the rumours of aliens were true but mostly his thoughts had been about the 302 and what it would be like to fly one; regret that he was never likely to know.
A month later, his CO had called him back in and told him he was being assigned as a back-up pilot to the supply run between McMurdo and a new top secret research station. John had figured at the time his record before the black mark had been the reason; he might have trashed any confidence the brass had had in him about following orders but he'd never given them reason to think he didn't know how to keep a secret. But he was only back-up for when one of the regular pilots wasn't available so his trips out were far and few between. He'd transported boxes of stuff a few times and taken a couple of technicians out a few more. Frankly, he'd been amazed the day he'd been ordered to report and had been told his cargo was a General.
His previous memories though were overlaid with his newfound knowledge of the Stargate programme; of knowing about the Battle of Antarctica and how close Anubis had come to wiping out Earth; of how many men and women had given their lives to keeping everyone on Earth safe that day; of the chair sitting below the ice waiting for John…
John shook himself out of his introspection as they entered the house and made their way back to the study. He wasn't looking forward to reviewing the reports again. Teyla's hand slipped away from him as she returned to her previous place on the cot where Vala had also made room for Mitchell.
Rodney lifted up a brownie and smiled at John. 'Wendy made snacks.'
'They're good.' Ronon confirmed. He was sprawled over the floor and John had to step over him to get back to his chair.
John sat back down and accepted his brownie from Mitchell with a nodded of thanks. The brownie was incredible; crunchy, chewy and soft in all the right places, sweet with chocolate. John washed it down with a mug of coffee and sat back regarding the others. Teyla and Vala were teasing Rodney over how quickly he had eaten the brownie; Mitchell was discussing Sodan fighting moves with Ronon and Teal'c.
Daniel was alone on the sofa, surrounded by a moat of paper. He hadn't paid any attention to any of them; his brownie sat forlorn on a plate balanced on one arm of the sofa. Ronon eyed it every so often but Teal'c had strategically positioned himself between Ronon and the brownie so Daniel's share was safe.
John was about to break up the party and get them back on research when Daniel sat up suddenly, clutching a piece of paper.
'I have something.' Daniel said. His blue eyes were gleeful behind the panes of glass.
Mitchell made a grabby motion at the report. 'What?'
Daniel carefully held it out of range.
'Jackson!' Mitchell whined.
John shifted on his chair impatiently but he was saved from saying anything by Rodney who was already talking.
'Oh for the love of…' Rodney gesticulated wildly enough that John darted back out of harm's way. 'Can we skip the acting like two year olds and get to the point where you tell us what you've found already?'
There were times when John loved Rodney for being Rodney.
Daniel shot Rodney an exasperated look but he passed the paper to him. 'It's an email from an undisclosed account to Gina Lovell confirming Mitchell's, uh,' his eyes slid past his team-mate, 'honeymoon dates and that the plan was on track.'
John frowned and again Rodney put into words what John was thinking.
'And this tells us what exactly?' Rodney flourished the paper at Daniel like a sword.
'That the honeymoon was part of the plan.' Daniel said sharply.
John still didn't get it; he thought they'd already known that. Mitchell apparently felt the same since he was looking at Daniel with bemusement. John looked at Rodney who clearly had gotten it; his blue eyes were wide open.
Vala nodded sagely and twisted a strand of dark hair between her fingers. 'I had wondered the same thing.'
Mitchell turned to her impatiently; anger flickering across his face. 'What?'
Vala's mobile face contorted for a moment into a grimace. 'How convenient it was that you set your wedding date and honeymoon for the same time that General Landry was debriefing this spy.'
And John got it finally. So did Mitchell from the way his mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
'The Lucien Alliance wanted you in a vulnerable position around this time.' Daniel expanded unnecessarily. 'So they had to have had a part in setting the dates of your honeymoon; they wouldn't have left it to chance.'
John held Mitchell's gaze. 'Who suggested the dates?'
Mitchell was pale except for the twin streaks of red across his cheekbones. 'Amy. Amy suggested the dates because of her work…but…'
'We know they have access to brain-washing technology.' Daniel said, almost apologetically.
'Or she may be under duress.' Teal'c said solemnly.
Mitchell stumbled off the cot, gesturing at his team-mates furiously. 'There is no way that Amy has anything to do with the Lucien Alliance, with this.'
Something else occurred to John. 'Mitchell, you told me she was the one who proposed.'
The astonished looked on the faces of SG1 gave away that Mitchell hadn't shared that with them either.
Mitchell flinched. He turned sharply and left the room. John waited a beat, expecting one of SG1 to go after him. He got the message when Teal'c stared at him, a lone eyebrow rising accusingly.
'Right.' John said gruffly, pointing at the door. 'I'll just…' he got up and made his way out. He paused when he saw Frank and Wendy sat at the kitchen table, concern written all over their faces. 'Um, did you see…'
Frank slid a hand over Wendy's and motioned towards the outside. 'He sometimes heads to the Thompson's field when he's upset. Keep left at the end of the drive.' There was a look of confidence and trust in Frank's eyes that had John's stomach churning nervously.
John nodded again; attempted a reassuring smile and headed out before they could read past his fake bravado. He began to jog as soon as he was outside, shifting into a smooth run. As it turned out Mitchell hadn't gone far. He sat in the grass where the drive met the road, and worryingly had his cell phone in his hand.
'Did you call her?' John asked breathlessly, running up to stand beside Mitchell. His heart was pounding; chest tight with too short breaths which weren't all run-related because if Mitchell had called Amy and alerted the Lucien Alliance then the show was over.
'No.' He handed John his cell phone without looking at him. 'I was going to but…I don't know what to say. What the fuck can I say?'
John breathed out, relief careening through him. He hovered for a moment; the weight of the cell phone heavy in his hand. There'd been a catch in Mitchell's voice; the thick suppression of tears that John realised Mitchell didn't want anyone to see. But leaving the other man alone was not a good idea – for one thing Mitchell made too tempting a target.
He lowered himself down to the ground without looking at Mitchell. John rested his elbows lightly on his knees, copying the other man's position. They sat quietly, gazing out at the empty road; at the dust rising in the heat and swirling around on the breeze.
'This is my fault.' Mitchell said eventually.
'Unless you're secretly the head of the Lucien Alliance, I'm thinking, not really.' John replied sardonically.
'Whether she's been brainwashed or blackmailed or, whatever,' Mitchell said tersely, 'they're using her to get to me.'
'Yes. They are.' John agreed mildly. He was only too aware though that nothing he said would assuage Mitchell's feelings of guilt.
Mitchell let out a sigh and moved position, curling forward over his knees to glare at a tree across the road. 'We have to save her.'
'We will.' John had a vague plan taking shape in his mind; half-formed and not without risk. It needed input from his team; SG1; from Mitchell himself. He cleared his throat. 'I think I have an idea. We should get back.'
'I know.'
John glanced over at Mitchell for the first time and looked away again quickly when he caught a glimpse of the moisture tracking down Mitchell's cheeks.
'Can we just…' Mitchell's voice broke and he took a deep breath, trying to regain control. 'Can we sit here for a while longer?'
John had an idea how much it had cost Mitchell to ask. He pulled a strand of grass from the ground and played with it, threading it between his fingers. 'Yeah,' he said, 'we can do that.'
