Fic: Beware the Custos

[aleafen]

So, I decided to finally post the Sentinel/Guide fic I wrote for the LJ hc_bingo all the way back in last year. I was going to write a whole series of them in order to get a bingo but that hasn't happened. So, I figured, why not post this one which can stand alone?


Title: Beware the Custos

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: McShep

Summary: He should have known there was going to be trouble as soon as he saw the locals smiling at them. In which Sentinels and Guides are known to those from earth, but more of an old legend to the Pegasus Galaxy. An old legend some see as helpful, and others... as monsters.

Notes: Major thanks to Spacewolfcub for all the brainstorming and plot help. And to the Mcshep discord for encouragement.

This fic can also be found on AO3 here

 

He should have known there was going to be trouble as soon as he saw the locals smiling at them. It was Pegasus. Too much smiling was never a good thing. But despite the smiles, the locals had greeted them with a kind of wariness that had put his mind at ease.

Besides which, the Athosians had traded with the Kelosians before (but really, after the Genii, maybe that should have been a warning, too?)

So Sheppard hadn’t been particularly worried as they were ushered into the village. The structures were semi-permanent, wood and leather and rope that looked sturdier than tents, but also appeared to be able to be packed up and transported should it be needed.

“It is good to see you again, Akan,” Teyla greeted the leader.

“Teyla Emmagen,” he replied, “it has been too long.” Akan was tall – as tall as Ronon, but as lean as Sheppard – and with his head shaved bald.

Teyla smiled gently. “It is not always easy to find you, my friend.” She referred to the way the Kelosians moved between a number of planets – never dwelling in one place too long in case the Wraith found them there.

“Still, you are here now.”

There was a soft clang from further in the village and Rodney grimaced, rubbing at his temples. Akan shot him a look, before seeming to dismiss the scientist from his mind.

“These are my friends,” Teyla introduced them. “Colonel Sheppard, Ronon, and Dr McKay.”

“You trust these people?”

“With my life.”

“Then, come.” They were led into one of the large half-house half-tent structures, and over to some soft furs that were placed on the floor. The walls were made from leather strung between large wooden poles, and each pole had elaborate wind chimes hanging from them, stirring gently in the breeze.

“Oh great, the floor,” Rodney muttered, eyes squinting as he took his seat. John reached over to press his hand briefly against McKay’s back – both a silent warning and commiseration. There was no need to agitate their hosts, but he also understood the wish to not be sitting on the floor, again.

What followed was a long conversation that meandered its way through the latest harvest, news of allies and trading partners, commentary on the weather, on to a discussion of the evils of the ‘Custos’ who would – Akan seemed certain – steal the secrets of his people without a moment’s thought.

“Custos?” John asked Teyla when Akan stepped out to see about getting them some dinner.

“It is a legend,” she replied. “Not many consider it more than myth, but the Kelosians are ones who do. Though, I do not think their legend matches the ones in the rest of the galaxy.” Which was pretty much Teyla speak for their idea of Custos is a load of shit, but I’m too diplomatic to say that, he thought. Huh.

“You do not know of the Custos?” Another man had entered the dwelling – younger than Akan and carrying a tray with a jug and some cups which he set before them.

Sheppard shook his head.

The young man made a gesture – hand passing over his eye then ear – as though warding something off. “Then you are lucky,” he said.

“We’d be lucky,” Rodney muttered, “if we could hurry up and get out of here.” Throughout their discussion with Akan, he’d slumped further and further down where he sat. The grooves in his forehead and squint lines around his eyes suggested he had a headache. Sheppard was just thankful the other man had managed to keep his displeasure with the situation mostly to himself.

Teyla gave Rodney one of her disappointed looks. “We have been welcomed most hospitably,” she said.

“Well maybe we could be hospitable outside?” Rodney snarked. “Not everyone likes breathing smoke.” The young man started, wide-eyes turning to Rodney, but the scientist continued on without pause. “Do you have any idea the damage that smoke can do to your lungs? Do you? They’ve done studies – and let me tell you, it is not pretty. And I, for one, don’t wish to end up stuck with lung cancer in the future because this place doesn’t have proper ventilation!”

Ronon was rolling his eyes, lounging back on the furs in that way he had that dared McKay to keep complaining about ‘nothing’. “There’s not that much smoke,” he said. “And if you’re going to get sick, it’s not going to be from smoke.”

Rodney sputtered at the look Ronon gave him, and for a moment it looked like his mind was going to latch onto all the other ways he could possibly get sick and die. Which, in Pegasus, were rather numerous.

“You must be ware of the Custos,” the young man said, drawing John’s attention away from where he’d been poking Rodney in the side to try and distract him. “They will hide themselves among you, then steal all from you before you know it.

“They cannot be trusted, they know too much. Like the Wraith, they can talk to each other over far distances, and they know where you are without looking. They treat with the Dux, who will steal your thoughts and cloud your mind.”

Ronon blinked. “Sounds like Wraith.”

The young man shook his head. “No, not Wraith. Worse.”

“Worse than Wraith?” Sheppard asked, that seemed like too much of a stretch.

The man nodded. “The Wraith come to us to feed,” he said, “The Custos come to steal, and the Dux help them.”

There was movement at the doorway and he dipped his head before hurrying off. Akan returned, followed by some more locals, whose dress and manner suggested they were high up in the hierarchy of the village. They were followed in by men and women carrying platters of food which they placed before them.

“There you are, Rodney,” John muttered out of the side of his mouth. “Free food.”

Rodney rolled his eyes but, as soon as Akan had taken some food, began to help himself. He sniffed each piece carefully before eating, and Sheppard noticed Akan and the others watching Rodney closely.

“I could taste it for you, if you like,” he suggested lightly, but loud enough to be heard (no need for them to think McKay was being deliberately offensive), “check there’s no lemon?”

“Lemon?” Akan questioned.

“McKay’s allergic to it,” Ronon replied, “but so far we’ve never found any on any planet other than their home world.”

“And where is this home world?”

“Far, far away,” Sheppard replied easily. “You must give our thanks to your cooks.”

Rodney pushed some of his food to one side, his nose scrunching up in distaste.

“If you don’t want it,” Ronon offered, taking it off him. Rodney let it go without a fuss, which meant he must have been really uninterested in eating it, Sheppard thought.

He tried to rekindle their discussion of trade as they ate, but Akan said that such matters should not be discussed over food. Teyla’s slight shift where she sat suggested that was unusual, which was when John got his first inkling that things were going to to go stupendously wrong.

In fact, Akan and the others didn’t seem all that interested in talking at all. Instead, they seemed to be rather riveted by watching McKay eat. Sheppard wondered briefly whether this was going to be yet another world that tried to kidnap McKay in order to make use of his brilliance.

It wasn’t.

But what it was – wasn’t much better.

“And now, a toast,” Akan said, handing around cups full of a sweet-smelling wine. “To new friends.”

“To new friends,” John agreed, though he wasn’t quite sure he liked the look in the other man’s eyes.

Rodney took one sip before he started sputtering.

“Are you insane?” he demanded. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Now, usually, this was the part of the proceedings where the villagers got offended by the accusation and Sheppard had to sooth their ruffled feathers while trying to keep Rodney from offending them even further and determine whether Rodney really was in any danger or not. Instead -

“Yes,” Akan said.

John leaped to his feet. “What?” he demanded. “What happened to ‘new friends’?” His hands twitched near the knife he’d kept on him, despite leaving his guns against a nearby pole when asked.

“We are your friends,” Akan replied, “but he is not.” He nodded to Rodney.

“You are insane,” McKay declared.

Akan’s face darkened. “He is Custos.”

“Custos?” John repeated incredulously, “Rodney? I mean, I know he’s not the most polite person ever, but he’s hardly here to steal your secrets.”

“He hears the chimes,” Akan said calmly, absolute certainty in his voice.

John tilted his head to one side. “We can all hear the chimes,” he said, “they’re soft, but there.”

Akan shook his head. “They hurt him.”

John’s gaze darted back to the lines of pain etched into Rodney’s forehead and around his eyes.

“He smells the smoke,” Akan continued.

“We can all smell -”

“It burns him.”

John became aware that the number of villagers around them, both inside and outside the dwelling, was growing.

“He smells the spice,” Akan’s methodical speech continued – almost as though he was reciting something. Reciting a list of ways to find a Custos, John realized. “He knows it would burn him. He tastes the root, and spits out the drink for fear of poison.”

John’s stomach rolled for a moment, wondering if they’d all been poisoned by that drink. Then he brushed it off. They could worry about poison later, right now they needed to get McKay away from the mob that was developing.

“Look,” he said, one hand out before him placatingly, the other still near his knife, “that doesn’t mean Rodney is some… monster from legend. He’s just a guy, like you or me. You said no-one’s seen a Custos in ages, right? So really, this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

Akan shook his head sadly. “Then he has a Dux with him,” he said, “clouding your mind.”

The crowd surrounding them were getting restless, and there were mutterings and weapons in hands – both actual weapons and whatever they could pick up. All it would take was one moment to turn this into a frenzy.

John glanced over at Rodney. The scientist’s eyes were large and wide in his face, his skin pale. This was so much worse than someone wanting him for his brain – at least then, they wanted him alive.

“If it worries you that much,” John said, “we can leave. We’ll leave and never bother you again.”

There was an upswell in mutterings around them.

“You cannot leave!” someone called.

“No,” Akan agreed softly, shaking his head, “you cannot leave. The Custos must not be allowed to steal our secrets. And we do not yet which of you is the Dux.”

John edged backwards and to the side, hands held out before him. “I promise you, we are not here to hurt you, or to steal any of your secrets.”

“You cannot know what you are or are not, not with a Custos and Dux,” Akan replied. “We honor you by removing you from their influence.”

And John didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. Nor was he entirely comfortable with the conclusions he’d come up with about just who or what these Custos and Dux were. He glanced at Rodney. “Dial it down, McKay,” he muttered, “sorry.”

Reaching down, John snatched up a stun grenade, activating it in the same motion and tossing it towards the entrance to the dwelling. Immediately, he hunched over, hands over his ears and eyes squeezed shut, knowing his team were doing the same around him.

There was a burst of sound and light, ringing through him despite his preparation, but there was no time to stop and think about that. They had to move.

Snatching up his weapons, John made quick work of arming himself, cradling his P90 in one arm. Reaching out his other hand, he grabbed hold of Rodney’s shoulder, pulling the other man towards him.

Around them, the locals were moaning, stunned by light and sound. Dragging an unresisting Rodney behind him, John pushed through the crowd and out into the evening air. He didn’t pause to weave their way between the locals, simply shoving their way through. Speed, not finesse, was what they needed.

His eyes were smarting and his ears ringing, so he could only imagine the kind of agony McKay would be in. But it got them away from the frenzied mob that had been forming, and that was the most important thing.

Breathing deep, John glanced around. They could head back to the ‘gate, but he could feel the way Rodney dragged against him, barely able to stay on his feet, and the path to the ‘gate was four klicks across open fields. No cover.

Just past the village was a thick forest that ran all the way to the mountains in the distance. He headed towards the forest.

*

“Hey, c’mon, Rodney.” The words filtered through to Rodney’s brain as though from lightyears away. He wanted to groan, but knew it would only cause him more pain. His eyes felt dry and throbbed in their sockets, and there was a pounding in his head. But everything felt far from him – like there was a heavy layer between him and the rest of the world.

“Rodney.” The voice was insistent, if distant. Distant like – oh. It had been so long since Rodney had zoned. He hadn’t thought he was capable of it anymore. He blinked, like sandpaper over his eyes.

“That’s it, buddy.” Suddenly, Rodney’s vision began to clear, the world rushing back in around him. He cringed, instinctively reaching for that distant place, away from the onslaught. “Hey now, stay with me.”

He wanted to tell Sheppard to shut up. But there was something about his voice… Sheppard’s voice should be stabbing against his ears. Trying to drill its way into his brain. At least – that’s what he remembered voices doing from his previous zones.

The surprise made him focus on Sheppard’s face, only inches away, hair sticking up everywhere as usual. But there was a concern in his green eyes that had Rodney pushing the pain back the way he’d learned to do in order to survive in Pegasus.

“What happened?” he asked. His voice croaked, and his throat felt raw. Sheppard pressed a canteen into his hand, helping lift it towards his mouth.

“What do you remember?”

Rodney suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. That wouldn’t help the pounding in his head any.

“Rodney.”

He took a sip. “Trade meeting,” he croaked out.

“Right,” Sheppard agreed. “And?”

“Weird leader. Sitting, floor.” And then it all came rushing back to him. “Chimes.” They’d bothered him as soon as they’d entered the tent-dwelling. Glittering and sparkling just on the edge of vision, letting off high-pitched notes that drilled straight into his head. “Smoke.” A horrible, acrid scent that he was sure couldn’t be good for him. “Food.” Right, food with some kind of spice that burned his nostrils with just the barest whiff, and drink that smelled like poison.

He lurched forward. “That bastard said he was trying to kill me!” Immediately he grasped his head. Oh, that sudden movement and loud exclamation were not helping at all.

“Easy.” Sheppard pushed him back towards what he realised was a cave wall. A dim cave with the scent of trees outside.

“Where are we?”

“In the forest near the village.”

“What? Why? We need to get out of here!” Rodney tried to push himself to his feet, but the zone had left him lethargic and heavy – something he had not missed at all when he gave up that part of his life.

“We need to regroup.”

“You mean, you need to coddle the fragile Sentinel,” Rodney snapped back.

“I see McKay’s awake.” Rodney glanced up as Ronon and Teyla moved to join them in the cave. Ronon turned his attention to Sheppard. “The villagers are still recovering,” he said. “They’ve sent a few out to comb the forest, but they’ve no hope of tracking us. Not the way they’re blundering around. We’re safe enough for now.”

Sheppard nodded.

“How are you feeling?” Teyla asked, reaching towards Rodney before stopping with her hand not quite touching him. Which was when Rodney realised Sheppard had both hands on his skin, one on his stomach beneath his t-shirt, and the other resting against his neck. How had he not noticed that before?

“I’m fine,” he said.

Ronon snorted.

“Really,” Rodney insisted, trying to push himself to his feet. Sheppard gently pressed him back down where he was.

“No, you’re not,” he said. “But you will be. Just rest.”

Sheppard’s hands should be hurting his skin, Rodney vaguely thought, even as he felt sleep creeping up on him. They should feel harsh and abrasive, not like mini anchors keeping him present. His eyes closed.

“He will be all right?” Teyla asked.

“Yeah,” Sheppard replied. “He’ll be fine.”

*

When Rodney next woke, the pounding in his head had reduced to a dull throb and the dim light of the cave no longer hurt his eyes. Sheppard was resting beside him, hands still pressed against Rodney’s skin.

“How you feeling?”

Pushing himself into more of a sitting position, Rodney began to run through a list of checks he’d stopped needing decades ago. “Dials are holding steady at a four,” he said. Which was actually higher than he’d expected them to be after a zone. Especially his first zone in so long.

“And your head?”

“Throbbing. But better.” Rodney gazed over at Sheppard. “You’re taking this really well.”

Sheppard blinked back at him. “As opposed to?”

Rodney rolled his eyes which – ouch – but it was bearable. “It’s like you’ve had training,” he said.

Now Sheppard was looking amused. “You don’t think the military trains us to deal with Sentinels?” he asked.

Rodney waved one hand. “There’s dealing with Sentinels and then there’s dealing with them.”

Sheppard shook his head, but his eyes were still sparking with amusement. “Rodney,” he said, “I’m a Guide.”

Rodney sputtered at him. “What?!” he demanded.

It was Sheppard’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m a Guide,” he repeated.

“But you’re… you’re…” Rodney felt like his whole world was changing focus.

“What? Military?” Sheppard snorted.

Rodney waved that away impatiently. “You’re my best friend!” he said. “How did I not know this about you?”

“It’s not like I’ve ever hidden it,” Sheppard cut in, “I just don’t advertise it, either.”

“Besides, you’re not an arrogant asshole with unrealistic expectations…” Rodney’s voice trailed off at Sheppard’s raised eyebrow and he crossed his arms defensively over his chest. “So maybe you can be an arrogant asshole,” he said, “but I’ve never got along with a Guide before.”

Sheppard’s eyebrows seemed to be trying to bury themselves in his ridiculous hair. “Never?”

“What? You think I’m on blockers because I like Guides?”

“I’d wondered…” Sheppard murmured.

“Rodney, you are awake.”

“Hey Teyla,” he said, glancing over at her and Ronon as they entered the cave.

“How are you feeling?” she asked in concern.

Rodney shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”

“You’re really Custos, then?” Ronon asked, handing Rodney a powerbar. He bit into it eagerly.

“Custos? Right, the villager’s boogey-man. Well, I’m hardly about to go bothering to steal secrets from people who are so far below myself in intelligence -”

“Rodney,” Sheppard gently cut off his building rant.

“The Kelosians fear the Custos,” Teyla agreed, taking a seat near them, and glaring at Ronon until he also did so, no longer looming over them. “But that is extremely unusual. Though no-one has seen a Custos in many years, many peoples have tales of them.”

“Tales?” Rodney asked.

Teyla nodded with a smile. “Yes. The Custos were gifted to us by the Ancestors. Those who were able to hear at greater distances, and see further, and feel minute changes in the weather, smell beyond any others, and taste the smallest poisons. They protected those they lived among, and helped to fight the Wraith.”

Her eyes turned sad. “But the Wraith learned of the threat they posed, and worked hard to destroy any Custos that could be found. Until they became nothing more than stories of before.”

“Huh,” Rodney muttered. “Well, that sounds about right. At least – I’m what we call a Sentinel. All fives senses heightened.” He shrugged.

“So how come you don’t act like a Custos?” Ronon asked. “You never talk about your senses. Never seem to know the enemy’s coming before we do.”

“Because I’m on Blockers,” Rodney admitted. “They limit my senses. So, most of the time, I don’t hear or see or smell anything other than what you do.”

Ronon frowned. “Why would you do that?”

Rodney hesitated. One of the reasons he took the Blockers was so that he could avoid having to answer questions like this. Everyone always wanted to know why. Why he didn’t ‘use the gifts he’d been given’.

“You don’t have to answer,” Sheppard said, and Rodney met his gaze, seeing concern and support in those green depths.

“It could be a great advantage -” Ronon began.

“You have no Dux to share your burden,” Teyla said softly, her voice sad.

“Dux?”

“The Custos had great abilities,” Teyla explained, “but those same abilities could hurt them. So they were given the Dux by the Ancestors. Companions who would stay with them, and help them. The Dux were also gifted – they would know how those around them felt, and could use their voices to calm or incite armies.

“The Dux would know if someone intended to betray them, or who could be trusted. They knew those who worshipped the Wraith, and could feel the Wraith coming. And whenever the Custos would get lost in their senses, they would be able to bring them back. A Custos with a Dux by their side could do feats even greater than they could alone.”

“Guides,” Rodney agreed. “We call them Guides. And no, I don’t have a Guide.” He glanced over at Sheppard to see the other man watching him closely. “I found they didn’t tend to want me, just a Sentinel protector they could point at and say was theirs.”

“They wanted you to give up science,” Sheppard said – as usual able to read Rodney better than anyone else. “They wanted you to follow the traditional Sentinel path. Be a cop. Or military. Search and rescue.”

Rodney nodded. The old fury burning in his gut once more. “So I have heightened senses,” he scoffed, “so do thousands on earth. But my brain – my brain they all wanted to ignore – no-one has a brain like mine. I’m the smartest man in two galaxies and they wanted me to throw it away because I could hear and see things!”

“They did not want you to use your mind?” Teyla queried, looking confused.

“Most Sentinels on earth go into particular occupations,” Sheppard explained. “Law enforcement. Military. Search and Rescue. Jobs where they can use their senses to best effect.”

“So, of course, because most do, it’s expected,” Rodney continued. “Regardless of what other skills you might have.”

“And you would never give up your mind,” Teyla said in understanding. “So you…” she let her voice trail off leadingly.

“Got myself put on Bond Blockers,” Rodney agreed. “They stop my senses from going past a certain level – keeping them low enough that I don’t need a Guide. They also stop me from sending out a Bonding Call.”

“Bonding Call?”

“It’s like a way to attract Guides,” he explained. “Without it, I could be in a room full of Guides and none of them would know I’m a Sentinel. All Sentinels past a certain level automatically send out a Bonding Call, which Guides can feel and respond to. Because I didn’t want a Guide, there was no point to send out a call.”

“But wouldn’t that stop you from finding a Dux who could help you?” Teyla asked.

Rodney shrugged. “No point if they didn’t want me for me. Besides, with the Blockers, I don’t need one.”

Teyla’s gaze flittered to Sheppard, then back. “Yet the Kelosians were able to cause you harm,” she said.

“Well, the Blockers don’t stop me being a Sentinel. They just keep all my levels low.”

“The Colonel was able to help you easily,” Teyla continued. “Are all your people trained to deal with... Sentinels? Are there truly that many Sentinels on earth?”

“There are quite a few,” John said. “But I have more training than most. I’m a Guide.”

“Dux,” Ronon muttered. “Figures.” He glanced between them. “So, you two Bond, and then we can get out of here.”

Rodney determinedly did not look at Sheppard. “I can’t Bond,” he said. “Bonding Blockers, remember.”

“So wait ‘til they wear off,” Ronon answered easily, as though it was no big deal. “You can’t say Sheppard doesn’t want you.” Pushing himself to his feet, he glanced towards the entrance to the cave. “We’ll go scout a bit more,” he said, “see what the villagers are up to.”

Nodding, Teyla followed Ronon from the cave.

Rodney stared down at his hands, not wanting to see whatever was on Sheppard’s face. It was easy enough for Ronon to think Sheppard would want him. Ronon was a practical kind of guy. Bonding would give them an advantage in the field, so of course he thought Rodney should do it and that Sheppard would have no complaints.

But Rodney knew himself. He wasn’t exactly the kind of Sentinel that Guides were breaking down doors to get to. There may have been a time when he would have dreamed of finding a Guide who simply fit, who he could Bond with and trust with all of him. But those days were long past.

Lost behind numerous repetitions, of ‘but won’t you just consider’ or ‘you can’t waste what’s been given to you’. Rodney firmed his jaw. He wasn’t wasting what was given to him. He used his brain everyday, and it was far more unique and special than any Sentinel gifts he’d never been able to properly control.

Sheppard patted him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you get some more rest?”

Rodney’s head shot up. “You’re not going to ask?”

Sheppard stared back at him. “Ask what?”

Rodney waved his hands vaguely in the air. Somehow trying to convey what he was thinking. Sheppard just gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m not going to try and change you, Rodney.” Then he left to guard the front of the cave.

Left there by himself, Rodney couldn’t help but be flummoxed. “He won’t try and change me,” he muttered.

 

*

Guarding the entrance to the cave, John stared out at the gathering dusk. McKay, Rodney, was a Sentinel. A Sentinel! He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away.

He’d meant what he said. He wasn’t going to try and change the other man. If Rodney wanted to take Bond Blockers and lock up his Sentinel gifts – that was his choice. And John wasn’t going to try and persuade him otherwise.

He’d wondered, in the past, whether Rodney had some hint of Sentinel in him. It was in the way the scientist’s fingers always seemed to feel the slightest flaw in anything, the allergies he had, and his reaction to over-stimulation.

 

But he’d never gotten anything from the other man before. No hint that he was Sensitive. So he’d brushed those things off, and determined not to think about it. Not to think about what it would be like if Rodney was a Sentinel, and if John could be his Guide.

There was a soft sound behind him, and John turned to see Rodney shuffling towards him. Hurriedly, he stood to help ease Rodney forward. “Should you be moving about?” he asked.

Rodney flapped one hand at him. “I’m fine, it was just a zone,” he said, “easy enough to do considering you let off a flash bang!”

John cringed. “Sorry.”

Rodney snorted. “And you warned me,” he said. “It was the best way out of there.”

John nodded.

Rodney scrubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks,” he said, “for not asking.”

Shrugging, John turned back to the world outside the cave. It was safer than staring at McKay through the evening light. “How’d you get Blockers?” he asked eventually. The question having been nagging at him from the moment he’d first figured out what Rodney was.

“They last a long time. I filled my personal allowance up with them.”

Startled, John stared at the other man. And – he’d never seen Rodney with a book. A movie. Anything personal, really. How had he never noticed that before? But it just drove home how important keeping his senses blocked was to Rodney. They’d been heading out on a possibly one-way trip to another galaxy, and Rodney had filled his personal space allocation with Bond Blockers. Nothing else.

As if reading his mind, Rodney shrugged. “The expedition needed me for my mind,” he said. “And there was no way to know if there’d even be any compatible Guides along for the trip. So it seemed best to just – keep doing what I’ve always done.”

John peered at him from the corner of his eye, but Rodney was staring out into the darkness thickening under the trees.

“I never thought you’d be a Guide,” he said.

John let himself release a wry smile. “Not your typical Guide?” he asked. He knew he wasn’t. Guides weren’t known for being military – not without Sentinels, anyway. They were meant to make a good match and then follow whatever career path their Sentinel chose, most times ending up as ‘consultants’ rather than actual law enforcement or military of any kind.

He’d been told he was wasting his gifts, when he’d decided to join the air force. Not only that, but that he was depriving some poor Sentinel of the relief he could provide. Then, of course, there’d been his father’s wish for him to get more involved in the business. A Guide’s instincts could have helped them make a lot of money.

And he’d seemingly thrown it all away to go risk his life in war zones.

“Not that,” Rodney said. “I mean, no, you’re not a typical Guide. But now that I know – so many things make so much more sense. You’ve always been able to read people pretty well, and the Wraith never seem to be able to get into your head they way they want. Oh, I know they affect you, but it’s always more of a battle, whereas as others just seem to keel over right away. But that’s not the point.

“The point is I never thought I’d find a Guide who – who I could actually get along with.”

John didn’t want to read too much into that statement. Sure, he and Rodney were friends. But that didn’t mean the other man wanted to Bond with him. Friendship was one thing. The Sentinel/Guide Bond was a whole ‘nother level. And usually involved sex. Lots and lots of it.

He pushed down the voice inside his mind that insisted he’d always wanted to have sex with McKay.

There was a movement under the trees, and Ronon and Teyla stepped out of the darkness towards them.

“The Kelosians have recovered enough to start organising their search,” Teyla said. “They seem to have determined we did not head towards the ‘gate, and are now starting to search the forest.”

“They headed this way?” John pushed himself to his feet. Rodney let his gaze linger on the long lines of the other man for a moment.

“They will be,” Ronon replied. “They’ve managed to set up a grid search pattern.”

“But they are not searching at the same pace,” Teyla explained. “So we should be able to slip behind their search lines.”

John nodded. It was a good plan. He turned back to Rodney. “How are you feeling?”

McKay scowled up at him. “You don’t need to coddle me,” he snapped.

Ronon snorted. “Figures when you actually have something to complain about, you don’t,” he said.

Rodney glared at him. “I’m. Fine.” He could feel Sheppard’s gaze roving over him, and crossed his arms defensively.

“Let’s do a quick check, then.” Sheppard crouched down beside Rodney, reaching out to put his hand on Rodney’s chest, pushing his arms out of the way. “Where are your dials?”

“Right where they were before,” Rodney snapped. “I have been doing this for years without any help, you know.”

“I know,” Sheppard agreed far too affably. “I also know you haven’t zoned in years, possibly decades.”

Rodney had to look away from John’s too-understanding eyes. “So?”

“So, you zoned. And I need to know how you’re doing – as your team leader.”

Rodney scowled, not at all impressed with Sheppard’s rationale, even as he admitted – if only to himself – that it made sense.

“Now, where are your dials?”

The really irritating part of it all, Rodney thought, was how he wanted to answer Sheppard. How he wanted to do what the other man asked. He’d never had that reaction before. No matter how many times he’d been told that, as a Sentinel, he should instinctively want to follow a Guide’s instructions. Every Guide who’d told him what to do in the past had driven him up the wall.

“Holding steady,” Rodney grumbled.

“Still at four?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. How’s your head?” As he spoke, Sheppard reached up, brushing his fingers against Rodney’s temples. Rodney’s skin tingled in their wake, the dull throbbing easing further.

“Huh” he said.

“Huh?”

Rodney shook his head, not yet ready to admit the touch was helping him. “Slight throb,” he admitted, “but it’s getting better.”

Sheppard nodded. “Right. Any skin irritation.”

“What?”

“Any skin irritation?”

Rodney just stared at him for a moment. Usually Guides just assumed if there was something wrong he’d tell them. “I’m fine.”

“How are your eyes?”

“My eyes?”

“You were squinting earlier. And that stun grenade wasn’t exactly easy on them.”

Sighing Rodney ran one hand over his face. “They’re fine. They were a bit dry before, but the rest helped.”

“Okay. And your energy?”

Rodney sputtered.

“C’mon, McKay,” Sheppard prodded. “Zones are draining.”

“And I’ve been resting.”

“Enough?”

Pausing, Rodney took a deep breath, allowing his senses – limited as they were – to run over himself, checking on his condition. “I could do with a good sleep tonight,” he said, “but most of the lethargy has gone, and I’m fine to move. No worse than on any other mission. Better than some.” He gave a crooked smile.

Sheppard left his hand against Rodney’s chest a moment longer, before drawing back. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s gear up.”

Gearing up, Rodney soon realised, meant the others were determined to carry most of his equipment for him.

“You know,” he hissed, night wrapping them in its dark embrace, “I’ve got enhanced senses, not a broken leg!”

Shouldering Rodney’s pack alongside his own, Ronon grinned at him. “Yeah, well your job is to lead us through the forest.”

“What?” Sputtering, Rodney turned to face Ronon. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” Ronon asked. “You said you’ve still got some abilities.”

“Well, yes,” Rodney agreed.

“Which means you can see better in the dark than us, and if you focus, you’ll hear the searchers before they stumble across us.” He said it so simply, so practically. Not as though he was asking Rodney to use a part of himself that he’d locked away years ago and tried to ignore.

“I -”

“Your choice, Rodney,” Sheppard said, moving up next to him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’ll be fine.”

“Fine, yes,” Rodney muttered, but despite Sheppard’s reassurance, he couldn’t help but think about what Ronon had said. He did have enhanced senses, and if he focused he could hear and see better than his teammates.

And it wasn’t like he’d locked away most of his abilities because he didn’t like them. There was something thrilling and satisfying about being able to use his senses to understand and control the world around him. No, he’d started the Blockers because he wasn’t interested in a Bond. Not because he wasn’t interested in his senses.

The senses were fine – the Guides he’d been introduced to had been the problem.

And without a Guide the risk of zoning when using his senses fully had been too high. But he was still on the Blockers – though he could feel the softening around his senses that suggested they were starting to wear off – and there weren’t any of those irritating Guides around to suggest he should change his career to suit them, just Sheppard – who’d proven somewhat competent at helping him so far.

Nodding, Rodney straightened up. “Right,” he said, “right. I can do this.”

Sheppard’s hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Rodney agreed. “You haven’t managed to kill me so far, so I figure you’ll do fine.”

He could see Sheppard raise his eyebrow in the dark.

“And don’t go looking at me like that. Genius, remember? I know that, even Blocked, I’ll be able to use my senses better with you acting as a Guide.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, you’re not quite as moronic as all the others they made me meet.”

Shaking his head, John moved closer to McKay. If Rodney was going to let him act as a Guide, he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Not pushing didn’t mean not doing his best when it was requested.

*

They moved softly through the forest, walking in single file and trusting Rodney to pick their way between the trees and around any obstacles. Every so often, they would see a flickering light in the distance – torches held by the searching villagers.

But Rodney would see them before the others – or hear them – giving warnings that kept them far out of range and without any risk of being found.

Pausing to check they were still headed in the same direction (who ever knew all those lessons with Sheppard on orienteering would come in handy), Rodney felt Sheppard’s hand come to rest on the base of his neck.

It was easy, then, to let his touch focus on the feel of those fingers, while he sent his hearing and sight out before them.

“We’re almost at the edge of the trees,” he said.

“Then the next bit’s the tricky bit,” Sheppard replied, breath brushing against Rodney’s neck.

They moved to the edge of the trees, peering out of the forest to the wide, grassy plains that ran all the way to the ‘gate.

Rodney hissed in frustration. “I can’t see that far,” he said. Frustrated, for the first time in a very long time, at being unable to use his senses to their fullest.

“What can you see?” John’s voice was soft and calm behind him, and Rodney could almost imagine the words were brushing up against his mind, steadying him.

“Everything’s too similar. Just grass and sky.”

“So there’s nothing there?” Ronon asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Rodney hissed. “I said -”

“Hey.” Sheppard stepped up close to him, until Rodney could feel the other man’s body heat all along his back. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Trust me, Rodney. Close your eyes.”

Huffing, Rodney shut his eyes.

“Now, what can you hear?”

What a stupid question. He could hear, “wind through the grass, your breathing, my breathing, Ronon’s breathing, Teyla’s breathing, some kind of probably horrible insect, my stomach grumbling -”

“Okay. Deep breath.”

Rodney was following Sheppard’s directions before he’d even thought about it.

“Now, filter out the sounds of our breathing and the insects.”

The sounds dropped away, still there in the sense that he could still hear them, but no longer the focus of his mind. Just background noise that barely registered.

“Good. Listen to the wind. To the way it moves across the grass, but keep it close, no further than 100 feet.”

For a moment, Rodney thought he could almost see the patterns of the wind in the grass.

“Is there anything blocking the wind?”

“No.”

“Good. Move it out a little further. Anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Bit further.”

Rodney frowned. “Something.” The wind shifted in his ears, flowing, stopping, parting… “people,” he said. “There are four people out there. No, five. Five people. And just beyond them, the ‘gate.”

“Great.” Sheppard’s hand squeezed the back of his neck. “Now bring it back in, Rodney, draw it back.”

Breathing out, Rodney drew his hearing back towards him, letting the distant patterns of the wind drop from his awareness. He shook his head. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“Yeah, don’t go getting a big head about it. Just because I’ve never done anything like that before.” A quick glance back showed Sheppard grinning at him. Rodney humphed.

“So, five people guarding the ‘gate,” Sheppard said. “That’s not too bad.”

They moved out of the cover of the forest and into the plains, continuing to trust Rodney to lead them, though the clouds which had covered the stars began to break up, giving them marginally better visibility.

The ground rose slowly beneath them, until Rodney halted them just before it crested. “Just over the other side,” he said.

John nodded. “Still just the five?”

“Yeah.”

“We take them fast,” Ronon suggested. “They won’t be expecting us.”

“I’d rather not kill them,” John said.

“No,” Teyla agreed. “They have not harmed us, they are simply scared.”

“Makes it riskier.” Ronon spun his pistol in his hand.

Which was when they head the sound of the ‘gate activating.

Dropping to the ground, the team crawled forward, peering over the top of the gentle rise. The chevrons on the ‘gate were lighting up.

“Is that?” John hissed.

“Well, we did miss our check-in,” Rodney responded drily. Then he frowned. “The villagers are arming,” he said.

“They may be concerned that Dr. McKay is not the only Custos,” Teyla said. “Their fear of the Custos is very strong.”

“So soon as they see our people, they’re likely to start shooting?” John guessed. He pushed himself upright, running softly towards the ‘gate and the villagers facing it.

“They’ve got guns,” Rodney hissed, as he kept pace with Sheppard. Which, great, guns. Not that other weapons weren’t just as deadly – goodness knows they’d had enough run ins with bows and arrows in Pegasus to have a rather healthy respect for them – but guns tended to be faster than most other weapons.

The final chevron locked, the vortex splashing out before settling down into a stable event horizon. It rippled, and Major Lorne stepped out, the light of the open ‘gate providing plenty of visibility.

The villagers raised their guns.

Slamming into the back of the tallest villager, John swept the butt of his pistol round to crash into the man’s head as they went down. To his right, he saw the bright flash of Ronon’s pistol on stun. To his far left, Teyla swept the feet out from beneath another, while Rodney drove his elbow into a fourth villager’s head.

Rolling as he followed his villager down, John looked to the final villager. Who had been standing closer to the ‘gate and therefore further away from his fellows. Who had been alerted by his fellows cries and was now facing them, gun raised and pointed in McKay’s direction.

Without thinking about it, John’s hand lashed out, landing on Rodney’s ankle, and he pushed.

The villager swayed where he stood, then crumpled to the ground.

Pushing himself to his feet, John met the amused eyes of Major Lorne. “I take it you’ve been making friends again, Sir,” he said.

“Oh, you know,” John replied, “just another day.”

Lorne grinned at him.

Moving to check on his team, John found himself lingering by Rodney’s side. The Sentinel gaped at him.

“You – you -” Rodney sputtered.

John rolled his eyes. “It’s not unheard of.”

“No, but it’s not common, either,” McKay snapped. “And if you can do that, why haven’t you done so before?”

John raised an eyebrow. Rodney frowned.

“What? Oh… you touched my ankle. I – you needed the contact to ground yourself.”

“Yeah, Rodney.”

“Huh.”

“You’re not the only one who needs a little help to use all their abilities,” John muttered. He turned from the scientist’s assessing gaze to look back at Major Lorne’s team. “We’d best not stay here,” he said.

Lorne frowned, even as he motioned for Stackhouse to start dialling. “What happened?”

“Let’s just say the locals aren’t really that fond of Sentinels or Guides.”

“Not fond?” Rodney scoffed. “Try insanely opposed.” He was staring rather intently at John in a way that made the Colonel want to shift where he stood. Instead, he leaned towards the other man.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Me? I’m fine! You’re the one who…” his voice trailed off, and he just stared at Sheppard for a long moment.

“Rodney?”

“You’re not insufferable.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“And I suppose we’ve managed to not kill each other this long.”

John pressed his fingers together, not wanting to reach out and possibly stop whatever Rodney was saying. He wasn’t sure whether to hope or not.

“I mean, people do it all the time, right? And you’re already my best friend. And you wouldn’t ask me to stop or change or…”

“Rodney,” John said, catching his eye. “I told you, I’m not going to try and change you. I kinda like you the way you are.” And McKay’s sudden, brilliant, crooked smile was worth the effort it had taken to get those words out.

“Right,” Rodney agreed. He nodded once. “I suppose you’ll do.”

“I’ll do?”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to correct any faults you have.”

“My faults?”

“It’s not like I can expect perfection, no matter how much I deserve it.”

“Uh-huh.”

Rodney waved one hand. “Oh shush. I’m trying not to get my hopes up here.”

“Your hopes?” John nudged him towards the open ‘gate.

“Yeah,” Rodney agreed, moving towards it. “You might be the best of a bad lot, and certainly better than anyone the Centre shoved at me in the past, but there’s no way all those stories of ‘true love’ and ‘perfect bonds’ are real. I’m just keeping my expectations realistic.”

“You have expectations.”

“Of course I have expectations? What do you think…”

“Rodney.” John grabbed his hand just before they passed through the open wormhole. “Are you sure about this?”

Rodney swallowed and nodded. “I never had a problem being a Sentinel,” he said, “I just had a problem when it was all people wanted me to be.”

John grinned at him. “Then, Sentinel,” he said, “how do you feel about a military Guide? I’m not exactly what most Sentinels are looking for, you know.”

Rodney scoffed. “Good. I’m not most Sentinels.” He hesitated a moment, then twisted his hand to wrap his fingers through John’s.

“If it’s you,” he said, “then I think, maybe, it could work.”

John beamed. “And you won’t mind if I still give you orders in the field?”

“Please. Like I listen to you now?”

“Rodney.”

“I won’t mind. Just – you don’t change either.”

“’Course not,” John agreed. “It’s not about changing. It’s about growing.”

“Oh, and now you’re just being sappy.”

“Sentinel,” John replied, gesturing towards the open wormhole.

“Guide,” Rodney agreed, fingers tightening on John’s.

“Let’s go home,” John suggested.

And they stepped through the wormhole hand in hand.

 

Comments

[rissabby]

Very enjoyable. I like Rodney's reasoning about his gifts. And, now he and John have a lot of interesting fun times to look forward to.

[aleafen]

Thanks! And, many interesting fun times to look forward to ;)