FIC: Dog Tags - Chapter 2

[x_erikah_x]

DOG TAGS
By ErikaHK

Dog Tags
Chapter: 2/9
Word count: ~2.460
Rating: PG13 (some language and graphic violent scenes)
Characters: mainly John Sheppard, but also features some Rodney McKay near the end, with appearances of Evan Lorne, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan and Elizabeth Weir.
Genre: Drama, Angst, H/C, Gen

Spoilers: for Sunday and Phantoms
Disclaimer: Stargate and all related characters are the property of MGM Television Entertainment. Not done for profit, just for fun.

Summary: After a team fails to return from a mission, Sheppard goes to find out why and ends up alone lost on an unknown planet with no means to return home. Shep Whump. Set in Season 3 somewhere after Sunday.

Thanks lauriel01 for the beta!

Chapters will be posted twice a week.

( Previous Chapter )

…

Chapter 2

He had a terrible headache. Actually, it was a sharp, blinding pain that took over his senses and made the world spin around him. He tried to see beyond the white and black spots dancing in front of his vision, but the more he tried, the more his stomach rebelled against him. The bile rose to his throat and he swallowed to keep it down. He felt the metallic taste of blood inside his mouth and it didn’t help the terrible nausea he was feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut and touched his temple. When his hand met the head wound he flinched violently against the pain. Nausea and dizziness overwhelmed his senses again and he fought hard not to throw up. He felt blood coming down from the gash on the side of his head, dripping down his face.

He opened his eyes again. Light came from the tops of the trees directly into his eyes and worsened the migraine. He turned away, moving his body slowly. Aside from the terrible pain in his head, there was hard pinch on his gum every time his tongue touched his upper molar. He definitely had a broken tooth. He cringed as he tried to sit up and once again felt the complaint of his stomach, but this time he wasn’t able to keep its contents down.

Now, aside from the terrible taste of blood, he also had a vile acid flavor inside his mouth. He wanted to get out of there, but his legs were stubborn and shook violently every time he tried to get them in an upward position. The trees still circled around him so he thought it would be a good idea to wait for a bit before making his move. John took the canteen and spat the bad taste out before taking a sip of water, trying to ignore the sting from his broken tooth.

He tried to remember how he got there. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying hard to think, but nothing came to mind. Confusion plagued him as he was unable to figure out where he was or why he was there.

He rose to his feet a few minutes later and looked around. He saw a trail in the mud and followed it up. He imagined he must have fallen from the top of the ravine. Progress was very slow. At every step he took he felt a fierce protest from his head and his vision blurred with pain. He finally got to the top, breathing hard and sweating.

Through the haziness of his brain it took him a few seconds to process what he saw. A ten meter wide crater covered the center of the clearing and rubble spread outwards from it. Only the buildings at the boundaries of the clearing stood almost intact. He held onto the wall of the building at the edge of the ravine as a giant wave of nausea and dizziness swept through him. He kept swallowing and closed his eyes, fighting back the dark cloud in his brain.

He didn’t know what had happened. He didn’t know where his team was. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know why he was here. All he knew was that it was all wrong. Pessimistic thoughts washed through his mind. He took a drunken step forward and started to sift through the rubble to find any clues of his friends. His skin shivered with the sound of the wind and the confusion that darkened his brain.

He flinched and held his head at each step as if his hand would be able to keep his sight stable. He unsteadily walked over to a group of badly burnt bodies. Their faces were unrecognizable and their clothes were scorched, but he was able to identify the weapons welded into their hands. P90s. His heart raced. He took his trembling hand to the man’s face and slid it down to his neck until he found it. His dog tags. He held it tightly and closed his eyes. They were all his men. And they were all dead.

He removed the dog tags from each one of the scorched bodies, fighting the feelings of confusion and anger that threatened to make him lose control. He suppressed a shudder. He counted ten bodies spread all over the field of death and destruction. Ten families he had failed and he didn’t even know how.

He took a deep breath to compose himself. John put the tags in his vest pocket and stood again. He had to make it back to the gate. He had to tell the others. He made out a path heading away from the clearing and into the trees. He didn’t know if this was the right way, but he followed anyway in an automatic response. He tripped several times and fell on his hands on more than one occasion until finally he saw the DHD by the stargate.

He stopped by the device and looked down at the symbols. The glyphs danced in front of his eyes. He narrowed his eyes to focus, but they remained blurry and doubled. It took him several minutes to finish dialing the Atlantis address but finally the ‘gate came to life. He sent out his shield code and jumped in the watery pool of the wormhole.

He emerged on the other side and took a few long seconds to realize that he wasn’t in the Gate Room. He was in the middle of a jungle. He looked ahead and saw the DHD. Okay, wrong number. Let’s try again. He walked to the device and took his time to visualize address. He started to dial again, but when he pressed the first glyph, it didn’t light up. He tried again, but all remained dark. He looked down and saw the wreck under the control panel of the DHD. Broken crystals and pulled wires told him that this would not work, no matter how many times he tried. He squeezed his eyes shut again, biting back the frustration and anger.

John felt his body slumping down and steadied himself on the DHD. He remained in the same position for several minutes, thinking about his predicament. He turned around and studied the new location. He was at the center of a clearing, surrounded by trees. It was cool and dark. Wind blew and shook the trees. He shivered. It would be a cold night. He looked up and was surprised to feel water splashing on his nose. Just at that moment rain suddenly started to fall heavily.

Correction, it would be a cold and wet night.

He raced to the trees, but water still reached him, so he just continued to go forward. It was hard to see anything past the rain and the darkness of the forest. He narrowed his eyes and tried to follow for a few minutes before remembering to turn on the light of his weapon. His feet slid through the mud and he clutched at his surroundings to keep standing. He tried hard to follow a path easy to remember later.

He progressed slowly, trying not to fall because of the dizziness and the sloppy mud under his feet, but still he met the ground a couple of times. He was shivering, completely wet and covered in mud. He cleaned the lamp clear of dirt and looked around for shelter. He couldn’t stay in the rain for the rest of the night. He climbed a rocky elevation, hoping to find some cover, and fell on his hands and knees when he stepped on the wet stone. The hard impact didn’t do well for his headache and he took a few moments to recover from the pain in his skull.

It was a long wet walk until he found a cave in between the rocks. He entered cautiously, keeping eyes and ears open for predators that could live inside. The cave was small and empty. He soon reached the end and was satisfied enough to sit down. He was shaking hard with cold. He bent his knees and rubbed his body to keep warm. His eyelids drooped. He was so tired. Lighting illuminated the outside and he heard loud thunder very near, and he snapped his eyes open. This was not the time to sleep. He had a possible concussion and was freezing cold and soaking wet. If he gave in to the desperate demands of sleep he wasn’t sure if he would wake up. He shook his head, and let the pain of the migraine keep him awake.

John reached for his vest and took out all the supplies he had there. He had power bars, some MREs, field dressings and a survival kit with some matches. Illuminating the cave with the P90, he spotted dry plants and a couple of branches that were probably blown in during the storm. He fought his body and forced himself to stand again, holding onto the rocky wall. He walked to the undergrowth of the cave, concentrating on keeping upright.

Soon, he had a small fire going. He removed his clothes, put them close enough to dry and sat by the warmth of the fire, supporting his body on the stony wall. He took out his thermal blanket and wrapped it around himself. Next, he took a bandage and covered his head wound, trying not to flinch too hard. He finished and leaned back. The warmth of the fire made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open it wasn’t much longer before he fell asleep.

…

Day 1

John woke up shivering. He opened his eyes, still groggy from sleep, and was momentarily surprised to see a cave.

Right.

He saw through the light coming from the entrance that the thermal blanket had fallen back. The fire was gone. His body was stiff and he felt sluggish. With a hard intake of air he noticed that his head throbbed. His mind worked slowly to process the situation. Images of burned bodies, destroyed buildings, mud and water came back to him in a flash. John focused on those memories, but couldn’t make out any details. Wind blew from the entrance and he shivered again. That’s when he noticed he was in his boxers. He looked around and saw his clothes by the dead fireplace and crawled to get them. They were a little damp and cold. He was able to get dressed without tumbling over and decided to go outside to warm up and dry.

Getting out of the cave made his headache increase several notches. The light, though not too bright, blinded him for several seconds and he took a while to focus his vision again. The day was cloudy and gray, the weather was cool and there was a lot of air humidity present. He carefully stepped out onto the slippery rocky surface, avoiding the running muddy water that came from uphill. Around him, small walls of stone formed corridors that would drag any unwarned visitors into a broad maze.

He looked up. The sky featured dark gray clouds and a roll of thunder announced that more water would come down very soon. He decided it would be better not take his chances going on exploring and risking getting caught in a storm, and entered again into his refuge.

He lowered himself onto the floor, feeling his sore muscles and a dizzy head. He felt really crappy. With a sigh he took out a power bar and divided it in two. He wrapped one half and placed it back into his vest and started eating the other. Just as his jaw connected with the food he winced hard. He had forgotten he had a broken tooth. Every time the tongue or cheek got a millimeter closer to it the sharp loose piece of tooth only barely connected to his gum moved and caused spikes of pain. He chewed slowly with a pathetic wince on his face at each movement of his mouth. After a few times he learned how to bite in a way that caused less pain, but the pinch still made itself known. After he swallowed the last part he sighed in relief.

John closed his eyes to think about his situation. He had no idea if anyone knew what had happened or even if they would try to go after him. From what he remembered seeing on the other planet, no one could expect a person to be alive.

His hand reached for the pocket on his vest, the one that kept the dog tags he had collected. He separated and counted them, displaying them all on the dirt in front of him. He read each one several times. He remembered each one of them. Good men. The best in the Galaxy. To think that they all died at once and in a blink of an eye brought the deepest sense of guilt inside him.

Why? Why did it happen? What had happened? These questions without answers angered him. He tried as hard as he could, he searched the deepest layers of his memory, he concentrated, closed his eyes, opened them again, but still nothing came back to him. The longer and harder he struggled to bring back some memories, the harder his head throbbed and the more difficult it was for him to think. He contorted his face and banged his head on the wall behind him in frustration. Bad idea. The hard wave of vibration made his migraine return full force in protest. Hot pokers were stuck into his skull and his hands went instinctively to his head. With a grimace of pain he lay on the ground in a fetal position, blinded to everything else. He just lay there, immobile for God knew how long, until it subsided into a hurting throb.

…

The rain still poured outside. It had been like this the whole day. He wavered by the entrance and considered getting out to do something instead of sitting still and feeling like crap. Anger came with the frustration of his situation. He paced stubbornly around the cave, even knowing that his headache would only grow worse with the physical demand. He grew increasingly tired. His legs trembled, his head throbbed insistently and his eyes burned with his persistence with keeping them open. It was only when it was already dark that he decided to sit down.

It was getting cold again. During the day the temperature had increased, but as the light faded he started to remember how cold it had been the previous night, but now he had nothing dry left to burn. There would be no fire during this night.

…

TBC…

( Chapter 3 )