greyias | FIC: No Traveller Returns

Title: No Traveller Returns
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen, Angst

Word Count: ~2000
Spoilers: It's all one big spoiler for "This Mortal Coil". Anything up to "Lifeline" is also fair game. In fact, there be spoilers in the author’s notes. Quickly, look away!

Summary: It’s so much harder 'to be', than to not. (Written for SGAHC’s 5 minute "soul" challenge)

A/N: And by "five minutes", I really mean "the whole day", because I had no uninterrupted five minutes Christmas Day. Sad. Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I ask the question: what if they hadn't had to sacrifice themselves?

I lose my soul a little more each day.

With each whiff of salt that’s not carried on an ocean breeze, with every face that I called friend, and with every memory that I don't hold a true claim to, I feel a part of me die a little. It's not obvious to the others, or at least I hope it isn't. That's just one more thing they need to deal with right now.

Rodney's huddled close to the fire, hands rubbing together, trying to generate enough heat with friction and proximity to ward off the chill that's been chasing him for days now. Teyla sits next to him, trying to ply him with a homemade form of tea she's managed to brew from the dried leaves on this planet. Ronon is off to the side, just within the reach of the fire's light. The flames glint off of his knife as he cleans his kill from the afternoon. John sits just beyond the glow of the campfire, the flickering flames occasionally lighting up his features. His mouth is set in a grim, tight line as he watches Teyla and Rodney.

I have a good idea what he is thinking from the way his brow twitches as he purses his lips. I had only caught the tail-end of yet another argument the other day, when he and Rodney forgot for a moment that we could all hear their raised voices. Rodney once again tried to present his case for deactivating the nanites inside us, and John had promptly told him to "drop it".

From his shivering, I can tell that Rodney hasn't dropped it. The argument probably just fueled his desire to prove his theory correct. The night’s breeze goes through my thin jacket, chilling me to the bone. We may have to move into the Jumper tonight, despite Rodney's protest of using up too much power. I'm not sure he can take another night in the cold air.

I step out from the shadows, depositing an armful of firewood next to the dwindling pile. Ronon tosses me a brief look of acknowledgement over his shoulder. In the dim light I can see that he is almost finished preparing the meat. I take a spot next to John, practically feeling the tension radiating off of him. I give what is supposed to be an encouraging smile, but either he cannot make it out in the darkness or he's not in the mood to be comforted. Knowing John Sheppard, it's probably both.

"You couldn't just leave it alone, could you?" His voice is pitched low, almost a growl.

I start to speak up, but Teyla beats me to it. "John."

Her voice is smooth, controlled, and even in the firelight, I can see her reproachful look. He bristles, shoulders bunching up as he visibly bites down on what he was going to say next. Rodney doesn't respond; just shivers and burrows further into his blanket, which says more to me than if he had made some sort of smart response. John's gone still, visibly struggling to rein in his emotions. This is a monster he can't fight with his fists or a P-90, and I know that kills him.

I am about to remind him how he helped Rodney fought his last "scary monster" of this kind, when I realize with a start that we really haven't discussed it at all. A memory is all I have of the incident, and I'm unsure if John has even that. I feel another piece of me disappear at another remind that I'm not truly the person that I think I am. These snatches of memory haunt me, ghostly reminders of a life I have never truly lived.

John's hand has moved from its casual perch on his knee to a clenched fist digging into the ground. I resist the temptation to lay a hand on his shoulder as I know it would only make him uncomfortable. We all feel just as helpless as him and want to do something, anything, to help.

"I think I'm close," Rodney murmurs into the tin mug Teyla has finally gotten him to accept.

John's knuckles dig a little deeper into the dirt.

"I'm positive I can shut them down... then—"

"Then what?" John snaps. "Then we can go back to a home that's not really ours? Then your mild case of pneumonia can develop into the Pegasus equivalent of SARS?"

"Then we can stop running!" Rodney spits before dissolving into a fit of coughing.

Teyla steadies his shoulders with one hand, the other straying to his forehead. John starts forward, before he catches himself and settles back down. I see Ronon pause in his meal preparation, waiting for the coughing to subside before resuming his task. I watch as Teyla pushes a refilled cup into Rodney's hand. I can’t make out the words she murmurs to him, just the soft, soothing quality of her voice.

"John," I say, softly enough so only he can hear it, "we can't keep going on like this."

His jaw clenches. "I know."

"I can fix this," Rodney wheezes before Teyla gently, but forcibly, pushes the mug back to his lips. He obediently sips and his heavy breathing eases some.

"You better mean you can fix your nanites," John says softly, and I can see from the slump in his shoulders that the fight has gone out of him. "Your whooping cough is scaring off all the game."

Rodney sips at his mug quietly instead of answering, and John sighs heavily. It's an argument they've rehashed every day for the past week, ever since Rodney came up with his latest theory on how Oberoth's faction is tracking us.

"Damn it, Rodney," John swears softly, wiping a tired hand across his brow. "We can keep outrunning Oberoth's crew..."

Ronon strides in front of the fire to place several spits of meat on the fire, effectively blocking our view of the other side of the camp. He took an extraordinarily long time tonight to clean his kill tonight, and I realize I'm not the only who's been eavesdropping.

"Food should be ready in a few minutes," he says gruffly, moving to take a place somewhere to my right, neither on our side of the fire or Rodney's.

"Thank you, Ronon." I nod to him, grateful for the interruption of the same tired, repeated words.

My eyes stray to the flickering flames, and the soft crackling of burning wood fills my ears. It's the same as every night before. At dawn's first light we'll all pile into the jumper and head to a new, abandoned planet in order to stay one step ahead of our pursuers. Then Ronon will leave on a hunt to procure that evening's meal accompanied by either Teyla or John, while Rodney and I wait at base camp. It's a dreary, exhausting existence, and part of me doesn't blame Rodney for wanting to change that. The other part of me is just as angry as John that he's risked his life like this.

The nanites have been our only first aid ever since we started this journey. We can't dial Atlantis for fear that we might give away its position, and we can't go to any of our—that is, Atlantis's—allies for the same reason. Deactivating them is also risky for a number of other reasons, the foremost being that our Rodney has no true memory or experience with them or their base code. Their "updated memories" are only courtesy of my... her recent integration with the collective. I have my doubts about how much knowledge of the subject our "creators" were willing to impart on a mind like his.

From what the others told me, he was able to recognize nanite coding at a glimpse. But would they really trust their base coding to an "experiment"?

As Rodney tries to choke back another cough, I come to the sad realization that I was right to doubt. I think John connected the same dots, which is why he's been tried to keep Rodney from trying to take this direction. However, McKay has never been one to take "no" for an answer.

The meat is done cooking, and I take the spit of meat Ronon offers me with a tight smile. It seems like each night the tension around the campfire grows. If we don't find a way to shake our pursuers soon, I'm afraid that we'll have more to worry about than recharging laptops and finding dinner. I blow on the alien meat in order to cool it, telling myself to take one thing at a time.

My companions either stare at their portion or nibble half-heartedly. No one's heart is in it, either weighed down by anger or worries. This is ridiculous. What's done is done; right now we need to focus on what's important. I lower my spit so I can look at everyone as I address them.

"I think we should sleep in the jumper tonight."

Rodney pauses in his nibbling to stare at me incredulously. "What? Why?"

"Because," John says in a very controlled voice, "you're not going to last out here in the cold. We should've ignored your whining about draining power last night."

Rodney opens his mouth to protest, but Teyla takes the opportunity to force him to take another sip of tea. I can't help but smile as he sputters, trying to curse both her tea and our idea of camping in the jumper. A ghost of a smile crosses John's face, and I realize that it's been entirely too long since I've seen that.

As Rodney manages to find his voice, raising loud complaints, I turn to John. He catches my eye and leans over so we can keep the conversation to our side of the fire.

"Yeah?"

"We need to leave a message for Atlantis."

"Elizabeth—"

I hold up a hand, forestalling the argument I know he's going to give me. "We need supplies, something to help Rodney fight off this infection, and all of the expedition's notes on these nanites."

"We can't risk—"

"—losing Rodney."

His eyes go steely at the implication that he's not thinking about Rodney. I give him an equally stern stare in return. "Just because we can't go back to Atlantis, does not mean we’re alone out here."

I know John Sheppard, both the man sitting next to me and the one back on Atlantis. If a teammate is in trouble, nothing short of a coma would keep him from doing whatever he could to help. And just because his McKay is safe on Atlantis doesn't mean he wouldn't give us what we need to save ours.

John looks away, and I know he wants to argue with me. His instincts to protect Atlantis are still strong, even if it's not truly his duty. I nudge his shoulder, and he flicks me an annoyed glance. I tilt my head towards the fire, and the rest of his—our—team...

Our family.

"Atlantis has a John Sheppard looking after it," I remind him softly. "He won't let us do anything to jeopardize it."

"I don't see how we can do it," he says tersely. "We can't dial them. Not until we figure out how Oberoth is tracking us."

"Luckily you have a very bored genius over there that just might have an idea."

The deep frown eases some as he considers this. I decide I've led the horse to water, now I can only hope that he takes that metaphorical drink. He retracts back into his personal space and takes a large bite from his skewer of meat. I return my attention to my own meal and let the familiar sounds of our nightly routine wash over me.

Somewhere in the warmth of the fire and companionship, I come to a slow realization. I might not actually be losing myself at all, just discovering who this Elizabeth Weir really is.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I nearly skipped over this, thinking I didn't want to read another story about the RepliTeam right now, but your first sentence was a keeper, and I kept going. I'm glad I did.

I like how much like the original versions of themselves they are, yet different because of the knowledge they have. John surely wants to save his Rodney, but he doesn't want to endanger the "real" one, or any of the others. Rodney won't accept "no," even if shutting down the nanites might kill him. He's still working on saving Elizabeth, too, I'm sure, even if the original Elizabeth is gone.

I like Elizabeth's conclusions that she is a new person, a different person.

I wish I could claim the first line, but it was part of the challenge (just a tiny bit altered since there was no selling of souls involved). I'm glad they didn't come across as... too much like the originals, as I was fearing that. John's such a fascinating guy, and he seemed to take the destruction of fake Atlantis a little personally (...he's John, of course he would!). They're an interesting paradox, they're themselves, but at the same time they're not.

...thinking I didn't want to read another story about the RepliTeam right now...

Ooh, there's more? I'm absolutely fascinated by these guys. Might I inquire where you found them? :D

Yeah, the first line grabbed me, but the rest of the story kept me. I wish I could tell you where else I've read RepliTeam stories, but none of them were truly memorable for me (hope I'm not dissing anyone reading these comments). Most of the Atlantis fic I read is from links in

sga_newsletter or at Wraithbait, if you want to poke around.

I will have to do some scouring then!

Something tells me though this will be incredibly AU come this Friday, if JM's vague spoiler poem is anything to go by.

Really nice - they may be replicates, but they're still a team - and still real people. You managed to convey that very well.

Thanks Leesa! They're replicates (I like that... replicator duplicates!), but yes, so very human even if they've got super nanite-healing powers. It was interesting to write from Elizabeth's POV, she's part of them, yet an outsider. I think I'm feeling for her a lot more this season than I have in the past.

Replicator duplicates therefore relpicates - oh, I wish I was that intelligent!! But I was just thinking 'they're not replicators, they're humans made by replicators' and so trying to think of another term for them!!!

Hmm, actually, forget all of that - I am that intelligent, thanks for noticing! *pastes on one of Rodney's 'I'm-not-lying' smiles*

As for Elizabeth, I actually *like* what they've done with her this season. I mean, I liked her a lot in the first three seasons, don't get me wrong, she was a great leader, but I kinda like the way things have developed (though I do hope the real Weir isn't dead despite what we're told in This Mortal Coil). I also like Sam in control of Atlantis - funny how some SGA fans were horrified that she might take over from our guys, and now some of them are complaining that she's not in it enough!!!

Oh well, better go find a rock to hide under from the more militant Weir fans. (Like I did when Ford left and, um, I liked season two Ford a lot more than season one... not Rainbow's fault, the writer's didn't seem to know what to do with the 'good guy' Ford character, or at least, that's how it seems to me.)

I do miss Beckett, even though I also like Keller, so maybe there is some hope for me?! I'm hoping they bring him back more in season five, even if he doesn't retake his old job for whatever reasons.

Actually, I think you pretty much hit in on the head.

I'm afraid I was one of those people who was really wary of Sam coming to Atlantis, mostly because I was very wishy-washy on her the last few seasons of SG-1 (some episodes I could almost hug her, and others I was rolling my eyes at what I saw as Mary Sue-isms). But, well, I have to give the writers props, because she's been very likable and capable as a leader, and she's been a solid supporting role. I think I once compared her as the big sister type of leader, who let her people shine, rather than the more matronly influence that Elizabeth was.

I was at first sad that Ford was leaving, but, when re-watching the first season, there really wasn't too much for him to do, and I could see hints of the unstable, dark character we saw in Season 2 a few times within the first season. If I have to choose between Ford and Ronon though, I'm backing my Satedan, because... well, he's a huggy Chewbacca!

I miss Beckett intensely, but I don't want Keller to just disappear either. I have it in my mind she was basically Carson's protege, and he brought her back to Pegasus sometime after "Return, 2". It's the whole Jonas thing, why is it so difficult to think about having two people performing similar duties on the same show?

*joins Leesa in rock hiding*

I really like Sam on SG-1 but was also concerned about how she'd be on SGA. I understand why she's not in some episodes; what annoys me is that no one even refers to her in episodes where she doesn't appear, which leads to oddities like Sheppard apparently deciding on his own to meet the RepliTeam. They should at least have a nod to Sam, I think.

I feel the same about Ford; I wish we'd see him again occasionally, though. I'm afraid they're doing the same thing with Elizabeth: a little while and we will see her no more. Just when she's getting really interesting, and I think the actress has really grown in the part!

I miss Carson a lot and want him back! I don't want Keller to go either, though if it came down to a choice, I'd surely pick Carson. I don't know why the writers feel the need to eliminate characters (why, oh why, did they have to say the Ori had taken Kelowna? Why kill off various people near the end of SG-1?). I think it would be (will be?) fun to see Carson and Keller together!

I feel the same about Ford; I wish we'd see him again occasionally, though. I'm afraid they're doing the same thing with Elizabeth: a little while and we will see her no more. Just when she's getting really interesting, and I think the actress has really grown in the part!

Seems to be the way with the writers, granted though, as an exec producer, JM has been very good about trying to address such things. But yeah, the moment I heard they had an "interesting storyline" for Weir, I knew she was going the way of the Fordo-Bird. I was slightly alarmed by that phrase being used on Teyla, until they talked about integrating her pregnancy with it. I mean, if they're going to use the secret code word for "We're chunking this one", can't they use it consistently?

I miss Carson a lot and want him back! I don't want Keller to go either, though if it came down to a choice, I'd surely pick Carson.

And you know, it comes down to the same with me. There's nothing wrong with Keller, but if I have to choose one or the other, it's the Scot all the way. I honestly think a lot of the time, this is TV in general, write in "slots", and cast characters in those. It's easier, I guess, and makes for faster story spinning.

Hopefully we will see Carson and Keller interact though, especially if certain actors come back for more episodes in season five.

(Edited because I apparently can't spell)

FIC: No Traveller Returns

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