Under Glass

Under Glass - the second half

Teyla made one final tug on the knot of twisted cable as she clung from the balcony. At a familiar sound, she looked up to see the wormhole disengage and felt her stomach twist a little.

“Run!” Ronon shouted from across the street. Taking a second to ensure that the cable was as tight and secure as it could be, she jumped from her perch on the side of the building, just as Ronon dropped from the façade of the building that faced hers. They ran, ducking up the street as Gate began to dial in.

The Wraith were fast, Teyla confirmed as she ran. They were faster at dialing than she could have duplicated. Any doubts she had regarding their decision had faded as her feet ate up the ground, tearing down the road and out of the way. She ran beside Ronon reaching the last building in the row as the final chevrons engaged.

Ronon smashed down a door and they dove into the empty store. The sequence completed, and with a whoosh, a new wormhole formed

Hidden, Teyla looked out to face what they had constructed. When she gazed toward Ronon, she saw a self-satisfied grin. It would work, she decided. “Colonel,” she called breathlessly into her radio. “They are coming and we are ready.”

“Damn it!” their commander responded. “Do what you can to stop them! Just… you know, try to stay safe. That’s all I’m askin’.”

“We’re on it,” Ronon answered for her, just as the first dart came screaming through the opening. It didn’t get far.

The pointy, terrifying flying machine, as expected, crashed through the remaining breakaway poles, throwing them helter-skelter, blocking the pilot’s vision for a few seconds. He had no chance to see the cables stretched across the street in a crisscross pattern, no time to change his course, no time to swerve. The dart slammed full speed into the wires, and was instantly julienned.

The dart was sliced and diced like hash browns. Rent metal screamed. The strained cables exploded in a terrifying shriek, tearing apart the framework of the buildings that had anchored them, ripping the quickly applied knots. The violence vibrated through to the building Ronon and Teyla hunkered in, sending down decades of dust.

Hunks of dart, Wraith, storefronts and flailing cables burst everywhere – and directly into the path of the dart that followed on the coattails of the first. The second dart collided in the flying wreckage, flinging the dart upward just as the third came through.

The third pilot vainly attempted to avoid the chaos, angling to the left, only to plow into the ruins of the buildings opposite Ronon and Teyla. The dart shrieked, smashing through one building and then the next, and continuing forward, tearing apart wooden walls, floors and furniture, ripping off bits of itself, to exit finally, halfway down the street and plow into the ground with earthshaking force and an ear-ringing explosion.

The fourth dart to enter the catastrophe came directly behind the third and chose the opposite course of the proceeding craft. It immediately steered right and into the rest of the buildings. The pilot tried to escape the calamity, smashing through roofs to street-level, skimming the first building, to remain airborne for a moment or so as it cruised below the balconies, taking out support beams with a ‘chunk…chunk… chunk’ as it rode daringly above the wooden walkway. Behind it, balconies and upper floors collapsed, barely avoiding the escaping dart -- and sending Teyla and Ronon running for their lives.

The last dart almost made it through, but the wreckage of the second dart had reached the apex of its ascent and came screaming down through the woodwork of the little string of building, smashing through the balconies and obliterating the fourth dart below in a ground shaking explosion.

Within a few second of ear-shattering madness, the gyrations of the out-of-control craft had finished. A dozen buildings were razed, leaving only a smashed heap of metal, the creak of abused wood, thrashing wires, and an acrid smell. And, for a moment, it was quiet.

A rustle from the forest, and Ronon stood, stepping clear of the foliage. He smiled from ear to ear to see the terror he had wrought. “Always wanted to try that.” He glanced to Teyla and saw her smile as well.

“That was,” she paused, almost theatrically, before she completed with, “Impressive.”

“Well,” he said, heading toward the smoking ruin. “Better check to make sure they're all dead.”

Teyla nodded, following. "We'd best hurry. They will come on foot now,” she reminded, keeping her P90 ready.

“After this?” Ronon responded. “Won’t be a problem.”

--------------------

“The darts?” John asked anxiously.

“Dispatched,” Teyla responded.

Sheppard glanced to Rodney in surprise, but the scientist was busy at his computer and probably didn’t hear. “How?”

“Cut them up into little bits,” Ronon explained.

”Okay, you’re gonna have to tell me a bit more here,” Sheppard responded, frustrated.

”There is no time to explain it all,” Teyla responded. “It was extraordinary.”

“They didn’t know what hit ‘em,” Ronon added.

Sheppard asked, “And has the wormhole shut down?” He wearily leaned against one wall of the room.

“No,” Teyla responded. “It has remained open.”

“They’re probably starting to wonder why no one ever calls home,” Sheppard conjectured with a sigh. After a thought, he asked, “Teyla, do you think they can communicate mentally through the wormhole? You know, they might have been able to get off an, ‘oh shit’.”

“It is believed they cannot,” Teyla responded.

“Well, that’s some good news.”

“Have you been able to release the doors?” Teyla inquired, hesitantly.

“Rodney’s working on it,” Sheppard returned, watching as McKay continued to poke about with his computer.

McKay paused, his hand forming into a spider over the board. Then, he shook his head in irritation and tried again.

“He’ll get it,” John declared.

There was a pause, and Ronon announced, “They're coming through.”

Sheppard tightened his grip on his P90. “How many?”

Teyla stated in a whisper, “I have seen seven emerge -- five drones and two male. The connection has closed behind them.” Shots were fired. “They have taken refuge in the wreckage of the darts.” Another pause and more shots. “We are having difficulty.”

“Fall back,” Sheppard ordered.

After a hesitation, Ronon stated, “I have an idea.”

“What? What are you guys doing?”

Another moment, and he replied with, “Tell you later.”

Annoyed with the response, John realized that they were too damn busy to explain. It didn’t improve his frustration. He turned to the alcove to find Rodney slumped further. McKay’s eyes were open, but the lids were drooping dangerously, as he pecked listlessly at his computer. Then he stilled, his hands just coming to an unnatural rest.

John felt his heart constrict, and forcefully, he kicked against the door just beside McKay’s head. “Wake up!” he called sharply.

Rodney startled, his head coming up abruptly. For a second or two he was lost, until he seemed to remember and glared at Sheppard. “Hell of a way…”

“No time for naps!” Sheppard told him.

“Nap, well yes, I could definitely use one about now,” he griped, rubbing his forehead. “That and some OXYGEN! And a little room," he said with a sad whine. "All I ask is a little more room – and oxygen.”

“McKay, you can’t stop now. Please, for Christ’s sake.”

“Air – that’s all I’m askin’.” Rodney went back to prodding at the display, muttering under his breath as he drew in air that was getting thinner. His brow furrowed as his eyes fastened on the readouts.

Sheppard stared at the control panel. “Wish we could use the transporter,” he mumbled.

“Well, if wishes were horses, beggars would get blown up in a giant fireball and rendered into little bite-sized bits when it all went to hell,” McKay grumbled. “For all we know, matter that’s transported through this thing will end up as little blobs of jam at the other end. I trust that control panel about as far as I can spit – which – pathetically – isn’t very far. But this…” and he cocked his head at the data-tablet’s display. “This is something I can put my faith behind.”

Sheppard peered through the transparent door at him, seeing the display. “You brought up the main control panel,” he commented.

“Well, yes,” McKay said with a proud smile, displaying the readout for Sheppard. On the display was an exact replica of the buttons and symbols on the control console. “I’ve tapped into their remote system. I was thinking that if I could mimic the control console through this connection, I could avoid what the Wraith installed in the real console to thwart us.”

“Here’s to no thwarting!” Sheppard grinned widely. “That’s great news, McKay. Good dog, you deserve a biscuit.”

The satisfied look fell, as McKay admitted, “It’s just that… I can’t get it to work. See?” He pointed at the dim display. “It’s inactive.” He poked, and poked again, his hand opening and clenching in frustration. “No good.”

“You’ll get it,” Sheppard assured. “You got that far. The rest is a piece of cake.”

“Yeah, cake,” McKay muttered. He pressed a hand to his forehead, wincing. “I could use some cake right now. Cake would be nice. Or maybe something potato-y, like French fries, or tater tots or…” But his attention stayed on the screen and he kept working. "... twice baked potatoes, chips, crisps -- yeah, Pringles Cheez-ums."

Frustrated as hell, Sheppard paced. He kicked at the side of one of the console, and smacked an open palm against a wall. Damn it all to hell! At that moment, Ronon and Teyla were being chased down by Wraith while Rodney was slowly and surely suffocating before his eyes and talking listlessly of potato products.

John had never felt so helpless before. He glared at the control panels, furious as hell at the sons-of-bitches who had done this.

They needed some sort of plan. Any old plan would do.

--------------------

Teyla and Ronon ran, climbing in elevation, using the cover of trees to hide them, trying to get to higher ground – above their adversaries. Ronon turned, blasting away at their pursuers. The Wraith followed, seemingly unable to tire, intent on only one thing – destroying them.

Ronon kept moving, Teyla beside him. They tore over the ground, smashing down the heather-like weeds that grew everywhere. The tenacious growth took the abuse, showing them what true obstinacy was by continuing to cling to the rocks in spite of them.

He knew that they’d be out of the trees soon and onto the rocky cap of the hill – exposed. He glanced to the Athosian again, catching her gaze as they ran. He wanted to impart confidence.

The look that Teyla returned to him reflected her faith in him. He nodded as he ran. This would work, he promised himself, promised her, promised Sheppard and McKay. It had worked before – why not again?

Normally, the warrior wouldn’t have considered this route – the hill was rocky and exposed at its top – the valley, on the other hand, was wooded, provided better cover, was easier terrain to cover in a hurry. But, Ronon’s plan wasn’t to return to the others just yet. He wasn’t about to lead the predators to the door of their trapped companions.

They kept moving – ducking and dodging – ignoring the shadows that edged their vision. Things seemed to come at them – diving out of the darkness – but both had learned long ago that the Wraith played tricks. To Ronon, they were little more than glimpses of darkness -- easily ignored.

The Wraith would not reach their friends – of that Ronon was certain. If this idea didn’t work, he would die to keep the creatures from coming any closer to that little hidden outpost. There was no doubt that Teyla would do the same.

Teyla reached a boulder and started to scramble over it. Ronon paused, covering her until her back was no longer exposed. When she turned to face him, he nodded and followed, slinging his weapon into his holster to use his hands. He turned his back on his foe. There was a time when he never would have performed such a vulnerable move – but he knew Teyla would not fail him. She fired twice into the woodland as he hoisted himself up – and then they were running again.

--------------------

“Damn it,” McKay swore. “It’s countering me as soon as I nearly get it.” His head bobbed tiredly. “It’s just not fair!”

“Can the Wraith tech learn what you’re up to and stop you from opening the door?” Sheppard asked and glanced beneath the console at the creepy crap that covered the underside. It looked far too much like tendons and flesh.

McKay drew in another breath and laid a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe something is just blocking me. If I could just power down the control panel, but… I -- I just can’t think straight anymore. I …” and he paused to breath deeply again, rubbing his temples distractedly. “I don’t know.” And he pulled his hand from his pale face, looking frightened and unsure. “I think… I’m .. I’m really running out of oxygen.”

“You still got time,” Sheppard reminded him, making a point to not look at his watch.

Rodney let the computer rest in his lap as he fumbled in his pack, frantic until he found his scanner. Clumsily, he pulled it free and panted through his teeth as he examined the readings. Without saying anything he let the device fall back into his pack. For a moment he simply breathed, his eyes seeking, as if following the thoughts in his mind. “I hate small places,” he squeaked out as he rearranged the data-tablet. “I’ve always hated small places. Got a damn fine reason for it now.”

Sheppard encouraged, “You’ll find a way to get out of there. We can deal with your psychosis later.”

With a nod, Rodney continued his determined poking away.

Sheppard stood on the other side of the door, leaning one shoulder against it. “You’ll get it,” he said confidently. He watched Rodney’s movements, usually so fluid and frenetic, now reduced to subdued jabbing at the display as his whole body rocked with the effort of breathing. Sheppard closed his eyes for a moment in misery.

How could this be happening? Was he just supposed to stand around doing nothing as his teammates were taken from him?

Sheppard keyed his radio again. “Teyla? Ronon?”

Ronon answered, “We’re kinda busy.”

“What’s happening? Where’s Teyla?”

“She’s with me. Think she lost her earpiece.” A Wraith stunner went off near Ronon’s position. “Gotta move!”

“Ronon! What’s the plan?”

“Right now?” Further sound of gunfire and stunners. “Kill ‘em. Don’t let them kill us.”

Sheppard listened to the sound of running, their heavy breathing as they raced.

“Keep me informed,” Sheppard commanded, and turned off the mic, hoping that Ronon’s plan worked – whatever the hell it was. His gaze remained on McKay, who struggled.

“You’ll find a way,” Sheppard assured softly, putting his faith in that statement.

CHAPTER 8: SCRAMBLED

They were in the open now, leaving the trees behind. Too exposed – not good. They ducked behind rocks as they moved, but it wasn’t good. Ronon felt his skin tingle with the apprehension that the Wraith would catch them here. A stunner was fired, close to hitting him. Another zinged past Teyla, but she’d managed to throw herself behind the safety of boulder in time. She stumbled, trampling more heather weeds that only irately sprang back up after her assault. She got to her feet – knees bloody -- and kept moving.

They ran on, climbing and jumping and stretching to get over the next series of boulders.

Ronon let himself smile when he finally saw what they were after – he changed his path, leaving even the safety of the scattered boulders, to run straight up the open chute, with Teyla right behind him. They scrambled over the loose rock. It scattered under their feet. Another stunner was fired, and Ronon avoided a strike only because one leg almost went out from under him in the gravel.

And in a matter of a few moments they were there – the bottom of the overhang. They glanced to one another, and the Satedan gave the Athosian a knowing grin, before they both turned in opposite directions, ducked out of sight just beyond the overhang.

--------------------

Sheppard fingered his radio, wanting to contact the others again, but knowing they were too damn busy at the moment – fighting for their lives. He wished he could be with them.

And, God help him, he wished he wasn’t in this room. This stillness was killing him. To know that two of his people were running for their lives, while the third – the third was utterly stopped – and running out of time.

John couldn’t bear it to watch Rodney die like this. He’d rather be anywhere. He wasn’t doing Rodney any good being on the outside. God, all he’d managed to do so far was hurt him. If McKay was out here, the door would have been long open and they’d be out there – helping Ronon and Teyla.

“Wonder what they’re doing,” John said out loud.

"Who?"

"Ronon and Teyla," Sheppard responded, a little surprised that he had to supply that information.

“Running, fighting, killing and hopefully not getting killed,” Rodney responded lightly.   As his hands seemed to hesitate over the data-tablet. He frowned, confused for a moment, then suddenly chuckled, and wiped at his forehead.

“Getting somewhere?” Sheppard asked.

“Me?”

“Yes, you!”

“Somewhere, nowhere, anywhere…”

Sheppard couldn’t contact the others, fearing that they might be holed up somewhere where silence was needed. No, he wouldn’t give them away. “I should be there,” he said quietly.   His hand brushed at the P90, as he itched to get to work.

He made another circuit of the room. He felt tighter, almost as if the Wraith were at the doorstep. He glanced toward the door leading to the outside, and suddenly, it whisked open again.

Surprised, the weapon snapped into his hands and he crouched, ready to attack, aiming into daylight as fresh air streamed in. It took a moment for his heart to quiet.

Nothing entered except for sunshine and a soft breeze.

Behind him McKay laughed out loud.

A smile spread over John’s face at that sound. He did it! “About time!” Sheppard called happily, turning back to face McKay. His expression fell, as he found the glass partition still firmly in place, locking in the inhabitant of the alcove. “McKay?” he growled.

McKay sat with the computer clasped limply. “Can’t… get it…” he admitted resignedly, his voice muffled. “Blocked. If… if I could… think … clearly… I…” And he paused, and actually snickered. “Feels like my brains are… scrambled. Rather silly, isn’t it?”

“Shut the main door!” Sheppard snapped pointing to the outer doorway. “What the hell are you thinking? Shut it down! Lock it!”

“Shut it, yeah. Lock down!” McKay answered, tittering as if this was a joke. “You shut it.”

“This is the wrong time for…”

“Wrong time, yeah, wrong. It’s all wrong.” And McKay laughed again, but when he looked up to John, his eyes were troubled, frightened. “It’s all wrong,” he repeated as he lifted one hand and let it fall in a pointless gesture. “God, my head hurts.”

John felt himself grow colder in spite of the sunlight. Crap… aw crap!

“Because, I’m in here,” McKay tried to stifle his giggle. “And you’re out there, and you can’t go because of me.”   He grimaced, breathing unevenly with suppressed laughter. But when he looked up at Sheppard, he seemed to be pleading for something.

Hypoxia. Any pilot was aware of that danger, feared it – it was the thing of nightmares. Oh damn, McKay. Sheppard stiffened, wishing there was anything he could do. All he could manage was to place one hand against the door. Hypoxia. He didn’t dare voice his concern, for what difference would it make if he were to say it out loud.

And besides, McKay already knew – Sheppard could see that fear in his eyes.

“I can’t do anything,” McKay admitted. “Not a thing. Not a thing.”

“You’ll get it,” Sheppard consoled, hoping now – beyond hope. Oh God, it can’t end this way!

“Can’t think… can’t hardly move. I can’t do… nothing.” And he laughed again. He bit his lip in an attempt to silence the sound. “But you, you can do something…something… anything…” McKay continued, doggedly. “You… you have to help… Ronon… and Teyla. I…” And he swallowed thickly, trying to get out his thought. “I’ll…”

No! Not now! “You’ll keep working on opening this alcove!” Sheppard demanded, slapping the transparent door violently, hoping to wake his friend from this state. “And get that other door down! That’s an order!”

McKay stared downward, his eyes still tracking the data on the display, but his hands were limp beside the computer. The representation of the control panel on the display remained dim. His chest heaved at the attempt to find any remaining oxygen, jiggling with an unwanted giggle.

“Rodney!” John shouted, kicking again at the door. It glowed blue in annoyance, making a soft thrum.

“Won’t do any good,” McKay softly mocked, his eyes focusing on the transparent door. “This material… is amazing.   Wish… wish I could figure out how they do that. Be a good thing to have in Atlantis. Wouldn’t that be just great?” He gasped. “Could glass-in a balcony or two.   Fit a jumper with a glass bottom maybe.” And he laughed again, looking humiliated at his inability to stop.

“You have to fix it, McKay!” But it was obvious, even to John, that there was nothing to be done.   Rodney was out of time.

“Tried…” Rodney gasped out. “Tried…”

Even John found it was getting harder to breathe. “Rodney,” he called again, but his voice had lost all its fire. He dropped down to his haunches beside the man. “I know.” And they were just inches apart, still separated by the clear door.

On the other side of the partition, Rodney just breathed. “My head hurts,” he said softly, furrowing his brow, and laughing again, a painful short sound. "And I'm so tired."

“Rodney…you have to find the way,” Sheppard pleaded. “There has to be another way.”

--------------------

And they came – the Wraith. Stomping up the mountainside as if this was a romp – closing in on their targets. The faceless drones led, with the males close behind. There were still seven of them, Ronon realized with relief. Oh, fewer Wraith would have been fine – but only if he or Teyla had been the ones to reduce the forces. They’d both delivered some pretty solid hits on their foes, but not enough to stop them.

Seven Wraith behind us, Ronon thought, means no Wraith heading toward Sheppard and McKay.

He waited, glancing to Teyla, who waited as well. The group of seven came up the hillside, scaling over the stones as if they were nothing. Ronon hated them. He hated everything about them – their dead faces, their clothing, the way the walked, even the stones they touched as they moved over them. He especially hated the heather they stomped – a weed that smelled curiously of Earth’s broccoli. He felt the loathing boiling in him, as they came closer. His heart raced from the climb, and the storming emotion. He slowed his breathing, forcing himself to calm down.

They came closer. He could almost see the rotted teeth of the closer male as he opened his mouth in a ghastly grin. They came into the chute and were close – close enough.

He wanted them dead. He wanted them all dead. And he had the means to accomplish it.

He held his breath.

--------------------

“There has to be another way,” Sheppard repeated.

And for a moment, neither man said a thing. John leaned against the glass door, pressing his forehead against the door not far from where Rodney leaned his own. He watched his friend within, struggling. Rodney hadn’t stopped trying, John realized, even though his lips were turning blue, even as hypoxia was inebriating him. The scientist’s eyes still roamed, as if searching for an answer, then Rodney raised his gaze to meet Sheppard’s.

There was conviction in that gaze, a brilliance that couldn’t be snuffed so easily.

“You know how to do it,” Sheppard said, more a statement than a question.

Rodney gulped down another breath and smiled broadly.

“What?” John demanded. “Out with it!”

It took a moment, and Sheppard felt his heart race as McKay fought for air. He giggled, and frowned, ashamed of himself for it. Trying again, he got out, “California.”

Sheppard puzzled at this non-sequitor, and then a realization hit him. “I tried that,” he said quietly, almost whispering as he met McKay’s gaze. “Rodney, I tried to remove the crystal, but it didn’t work.”

McKay swallowed, breathing as if he’d just run a marathon, breathing as if he was running for his life, breathing but the oxygen was gone. “It will work – Just didn’t try… I didn’t try…hard enough…before. It’ll reset -- everything. It – will -- work…”

Sheppard paused, watching as Rodney strained to breathe. His head rested again against the door. His lips trembled with effort of trying to keep living.

“Are you sure?” John asked, almost pathetically.

McKay didn’t voice an answer; he just stared back at Sheppard, glaring as if the man had just spouted off the stupidest comment of his life.

That was enough. Sheppard scrambled across the room to the control panel. He fell on his knees, glancing up again the gunk that covered the Ancient’s crystals. The Wraith tech was an abomination, a desecration of the Ancient tech. John quickly found the British Columbia shaped crystal and glanced up to check on Rodney.

The form in the alcove didn’t move. Head pressed to the window, mouth open, Rodney just slumped. The computer slipped from his lap to thunk quietly beside him. He was completely motionless, even the labored breathing seemed to have stopped.

------------------

The Satedan met Teyla’s gaze and nodded. Together they turned away from the Wraith and opened fire – straight into the rocks that hung above. And then, almost as quickly, they spun away into what protection they could find as it all came loose in a cacophonous blast.

The shattered rocks roared -- falling, clattering and tumbling and rocketing down the chute. The drones stood stock-still, as if unable to process this strange calamity. The slow-witted creatures never moved and were obliterated as if they’d never existed. The males took a second to understand what had happened– but even that was too long. Eyes wide, they twisted about, attempting to jump aside – to no avail.

The rocks came down on them like a wave. Stones and debris, dust and fragments consumed the Wraith, wrapping around them, pulling them down. Boulders bounced, pounding the half-living flesh, scrambling them to nothing. The bodies rolled and bounced away with the rocks, wiped away as if a big hand had swept across the mountain, with the announcement, “Be gone!”

And in seconds, the tumbling roaring shattered overhang was gone. The debris kept rolling further down the hill, clattering and smashing the victims to smaller bits as it went

.--------------------

There was no time. With one quick motion, John pulled back on the crystal, twisting it as he moved it, trying desperately to cause little disturbance as possible to the gooey stuff that coated everything. He pulled it clear of its housing, yanking it away as quickly as he could.

The response was immediate. First – the unmistakable crack of electricity – combining with a pain-filled, but muffled cry from McKay. The lights on the control panel winked out, unnoticed. John watched, unable to take his eyes off of Rodney, who arched painfully, gasping for air that wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry, Rodney,” Sheppard whispered, holding the crystal between his thumb and forefinger as if he could crush it. The horrible jolt continued. John stormed toward the cell, as Rodney convulsed. He felt so damn helpless and worthless – utterly impotent. No! No!

And then, just as he reached the door, it was over. The surging sound of electricity simply stopped. In all , it had lasted no more than a couple seconds, but it had felt like a lifetime to Sheppard – two lifetimes.

Rodney, who’d stiffened in the throes of the electricity, slumped again against the door, looking heavy and lifeless.

Sheppard let out a breath. It was over, he decided, still squeezing on the crystal as he stood – as he waited.

“Please,” he uttered. “Please.”

But, the door didn’t open – and Rodney didn’t move.

CHAPTER 9: BLOB OF JAM

Ronon stepped clear of his protection, dusting at his shoulders and arms, kicking away the rocks that now barred his path. He watched the concussion of rocks. Below, boulders tumbled. Nothing remained of the Wraith – they’d been reduced to blobs of jam that littered the unhappy looking heather along the chute.

It made the former runner smile. He was covered in dust, suffering from a bruise or two, and had acquired a sore ankle and a bloody cheek somewhere along the line – but he felt pretty damn good. His hand brushed against his radio, and found it missing. He shrugged, not caring.

He smiled and turned to Teyla as she stood from her protected hollow. She was a little battered, a little dirty, her knees were bloody and caked with dust, but apparently she was well and whole.

Not bad, Ronon decided.

“I knew that would work,” he announced proudly as Teyla came closer.

Teyla shook her head at him as she tucked a loose hair behind her ear. With a smile, she told him, “Anyone can get lucky.”

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“No… no…!” Sheppard drew in a breath. “Goddamn you, McKay!” he shouted. “Why’d we try that if it wasn’t going to work?”

McKay continued to slump against the door, his chest jerking in pathetic attempts at breathing, making no sign of waking up.

“You arrogant, son of a…” He drew back and slammed a hand against the door, instantly, the transparent cover shot up. Surprised, he stumbled, losing his balance and almost taking a head-dive into the alcove, as McKay tumbled forward and out.

Letting out a glad sound, Sheppard found his balance and caught Rodney before he fell completely forward. “Rodney!” he called, glancing up to where the door had disappeared. Goddamn, it was good to see that thing gone.

He placed a hand against one side of the Canadian’s pale face. “Rodney?” The face felt clammy, but he was breathing – he was breathing, drawing in great draughts unconsciously. For a second, all John could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he clutched the physicist to his chest, feeling waves of relief. Oh, thank God! Thank God!

He felt for a pulse. He found it, but couldn’t make out anything from it except that Rodney was still alive. His breathing seemed troubled, the gasping was slowing, becoming shallower, and John shook his head in misery. “It’s just the sort of thing you’d do,” he muttered, still holding the scientist to his chest. “I get you out of the box and you stop breathing!”

The door had opened with a touch. He glanced at the crystal, still pinched in one hand. Son of a bitch was right. This one crystal was blocking everything. He jammed it into a pocket, not wanting to look at it anymore.

Wearily, he put McKay into the recovery position. They were miles from the Gate, on a planet with Wraith crawling about. He closed his eyes. Ronon and Teyla – where were they? How were they?

He sat with one hand on Rodney, as if he might give up some of his strength to the man. “Come on, McKay,” he whispered. “You were wanting to breathe, right? It’s the easiest thing.” But the strange shallow gasps did nothing to alleviate Sheppard’s fears. He seemed to breathing slower now. His pulse seemed fast. If Rodney was going into shock…

He sighed, wondering what the irritable scientist would have to say about one more form of shock foisted upon him.

“Stay alive and let me know.”

Wishing he could hear that tirade, John stayed beside the scientist, and just was quiet for a moment, as he glanced to the main door, he prepared himself for what might come.

--------------------

Minutes passed. Sheppard waited with the P90 held in one hand. He’d managed to move McKay into a more protected portion of the room, but if the Wraith were to come, they were sitting ducks. Sheppard glanced to the doorway, knowing that he’d be better off taking a position outside where he could see what was coming, but there was no way in hell he’d leave McKay now.

When he heard movement beyond the door, he patted McKay, and moved away from him, getting closer to the opening.

Ronon and Teyla hadn’t responded to radio contact – so he could only expect the worst. He crouched, not wanting to leave the shelter of the room, not wanting to get far from McKay who still breathed too shallowly for his liking. He stood at the doorway, gun held ready, listening to the rustle of something coming closer.

Holding his breath, Sheppard prepared himself. He was going to be the last defense. No Wraith would enter this place. Not while he lived. And he gripped his weapon tighter in preparation to blow a hole through whatever came at him. Those sons-of-bitches would pay for what they’d done.

“Sheppard!” a voice called. Ronon, his voice sounding tight, concerned, “Sheppard!”

And John leaned out through the doorway, unable to suppress the smile as Ronon and Teyla appeared, coming through the forest toward the entrance. They paused and regarded him. Both looked worse for wear – a little battered and bloodied, but they smiled when they saw him.

“The Wraith?” Sheppard asked urgently.

“Dead,” Ronon proclaimed with pride. “We took down four darts and seven soldiers.”

Sheppard, for a moment, had nothing to say. “Seven?”

Ronon nodded, and stated casually. “Yeah. Got ‘em.”

“And four darts,” Teyla added self-assuredly.

Ronon included, “And a probe.”

Sheppard glanced from one to the other. “The two of you.”

Ronon bobbed his head in a nod.

“How?”

“Wire and rocks,” Ronon replied easily.

There was undoubtedly more to the story, but now wasn’t the time to pursue it. “Any more Wraith coming?”

Teyla replied confidently, “I have not felt their presence return.”

“Well,” Sheppard sighed, “That’s some good news.”

“Colonel, it is good to see that you are well,” Teyla stated.

“Didn’t know if you’d have the door open yet or not,” Ronon added, as he approached the opening. “Looks like you got it.”

Teyla’s her brow furrowed when she noticed John was alone in the doorway, that she didn’t hear a constant and familiar prattle. “Doctor McKay?” she asked.

Sheppard jerked his head toward the interior of the room. “I just about killed him,” he stated bluntly. “We need to get him back to Atlantis.”

Teyla’s hopeful look fell as she saw the fear reflected in Sheppard’s eyes, and she jogged past him into the little room. Ronon stopped when he reached the doorway, not moving any further as he watched Teyla dropped beside the scientist. McKay wasn’t moving, looking pale and sick.

“What happened?” the former runner asked.

“Well, as if suffocating wasn’t bad enough, I nearly shocked him to death,” Sheppard responded, watching Teyla as she touched Rodney’s face gently.

“He is very ill,” Teyla said softly. “We should return immediately. We should find some means of carrying him.”

Ronon nodded and backed out of the doorway. Pulling one of his knives, he began attacking a nearby trees. Sheppard watched him for a moment, as the Satedan brought a sapling down within a few seconds. Ronon seemed know what he was doing, so Sheppard stepped back into the room and stood over Teyla.

The Athosian was murmuring to Rodney, but stopped her quiet litany when Sheppard came near. “That is the alcove where he was trapped,” she stated to confirm her suspicion. She gestured to the room where McKay’s data-tablet and pack still remained.

Sheppard nodded, and moved toward the space to retrieve the items. “A transparent door came down,” he explained. “I don’t know what those things were made of, but I wasn’t getting through it. He was trapped without any air.”

“He does not like to be in small spaces,” Teyla reminded softly.

For that, she received an angry look from Sheppard. “Tell me something I don’t know,” he snapped.

But her eyes remained kind and soft as she regarded him. “It must have been difficult,” she said plainly.

“That’s an understatement. He hated it,” Sheppard returned, picking up the pack, and then clutching the data-tablet.   “God, how he hated it.” With a sigh, Sheppard realized that in spite of his fears, McKay had been able to calm himself down. John wondered if he could have done the same if he had such a phobia.

Continuing, Sheppard stated, “He kept working at getting it fixed.” The computer was still clipped into the system – the screen displaying a replica of the control console. “Kept trying. He was out of air. It was killing him.”

“It must have been difficult for you as well,” Teyla went on. “I would have been upset to see him in such a place.”

John looked up from the screen to watch her, but she returned her attention to Rodney.

“Did you free him from the room before he was unconscious?” she asked quietly.

“He couldn’t get the damn door open,” Sheppard responded. “He was out of oxygen. He knew that if I touched the crystals he’d get shocked, but it was the only way to do it. He’d figured out which crystal was the linchpin.” With a frown, John remembered, “I electrocuted him. He was out of it when the door finally opened.”

Still looking at the screen, John said tiredly, “Once that crystal was pulled, the control console shut down.” He gestured to it and explained. “The Wraith had overlaid their tech on it, booby trapped it. Made it impossible for anyone to mess with it without hurting one of our own. Once the panel was shut down, I could use the gene to open his door. I almost killed him,” he repeated softly.

“If he were suffocating in the alcove, then it was the right thing to do,” Teyla told him. “It is unfortunate that the transporters were not functioning,” she added wistfully. “It is what this room was designed for, is it not?”

“We thought about that,” Sheppard returned. “Couldn’t risk it if we couldn’t trust the using the control console.” And Sheppard just stared at the image of that panel on the screen. It had been mostly dim when he’d seen it before. The image was bright now -- active.   Amazing that the computer wasn’t fried with the electricity. He regarded the image on the computer screen as he glanced back to the control console that it resembled…and wondered.

Teyla made a sound and she shot to her feet, in a protective posture over Rodney. Her head swiveled and she seemed almost to be scenting the air. “They’re back,” she hissed after a second. “The Wraith! They have come through the gate!”

Outside, they heard Ronon stop working. He came to the doorway and glanced within, his eyes fastening on the motionless scientist. “We should move him now. Try to get him someplace safe.”   Looked about at the room, stating, “I don’t like the idea of being trapped here.”

“Oh,” said Sheppard, looking at the data-tablet in his hand. “I don’t think we’re the ones going to get trapped this time.” He smiled at them. “I got a plan.”

--------------------

Sheppard waited, listening for Ronon. The Satedan was using McKay’s radio, since he’d lost his. Teyla had to go without.

Sheppard moved slowly in the room – the same damn room he’d been in the whole time – but this time, he had control of it – and that made all the difference. He walked over the central disk again, pausing for a moment before continuing toward one of the alcoves, and crouched down beside it.

Within, McKay had been carefully placed, curled and leaning against one wall, a folded jacket under his head, and draped with the remaining coats. Sheppard paused, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Rodney didn’t move, except to breathe.

“I’m sorry about this, Rodney,” Sheppard said softly. “But it’s the safest place for you. I swear, this won’t be for long. The crystal is out, so I can get the door up in a second.” And he patted the crystal in his pocket, hoping it was true.

In his ear, Ronon announced, “We got some coming through on foot.”

“How many?” Sheppard asked.

“Five,” was his return. “Four drones and a male. They are approaching your location.”

“Great,” he responded.

“I don’t like this idea,” Ronon’s voice told him.

“That’s why you’re out there, and I’m the one in here,” Sheppard told him.

“He shouldn’t be in there,” Ronon went on.

“You think hiding Rodney in the woods is any better if this all goes to crap?”

“I’d watch out for him,” Ronon declared hotly.

“I know you would, Ronon,” Sheppard said with a sigh. “This way is better.”

“How is he?” the Satedan asked.

Sheppard sighed, hating this part of the plan. “Could be better,” he responded. “I’m locking him in now.” It wouldn’t be long, but that fact didn’t make Sheppard feel any better as he brought the door down once more, trapping in the scientist. “Sorry,” he voiced softly. “Sorry about this.”

He stood outside the glass, as he had before, and kept his eye on Rodney for a moment longer, making sure that the Canadian didn’t touch the glass – making certain he was still breathing. “Do me a favor,” John spoke softy. “Much as I want you waking up, just stay out of it for a few more minutes, okay? You won’t even have to know what we’ve done to you.”

Assured that Rodney was as ‘okay’ as he could be, Sheppard turned and ducked into another alcove – the same one Rodney had been stuck in for so long. He picked up the still-attached data-tablet. He’d tested it as much as he was able, finding the controls seemed to work exactly as McKay had described earlier – he just hoped it ALL worked as he’d figured.

Sheppard brought the door down with a thought. Instantly, his hearing muffled, there was pressure against his ears. He felt closed in – under glass, as if he were in some sort of display case – like a bug mounted on a pin. The space was so damn small. He frowned, feeling even sorrier for locking McKay in again. This was a hell of a place to be stuck, even for someone who wasn’t afraid of tight spaces.

Sheppard shifted, pressing against the ‘glass’ door in order to see McKay across the way, finding the other man's hunched back still toward him. John watched, looking for any sign of waking, but the scientist didn’t stir. Don’t, John thought, not yet. He wished he could have left Rodney with a radio – in case he woke up in there alone.

There was a click in his ear, and Sheppard knew why he had to rob McKay of that possible comfort. With that signal, the Wraith’s coming had been announced – Ronon and Teyla were silent and hidden just out of sight, ready to add their help if the plan wasn’t enough. Sheppard hoped to God this worked – hoped that McKay was right and the doors on the transporters would stand up to the abuse they were about to undergo – hoped that he had control of the room now and not the Wraith -- hoped the rest of McKay’s theories about the facility proved right. What was that he’d said about ‘blobs of jam’?

Rodney was rarely wrong – and Sheppard put all of trust in him – trusted him enough that he risked not only his own life – but Rodney’s as well.

And the Wraith arrived.

They came in with a blast of light, startling and terrifying, as the Wraith fired into the room almost as soon as they were in sight of it. John was prepared, but still he stepped back almost unconsciously as the blast scattered across the transparent door -- making it glow bluish for a moment – and dissipated quickly. They fired again. Sheppard winced against the light, keeping an eye on the attackers. He could see Rodney’s door aglow as well. Stay still, he directed at Rodney -- and to the door, he thought, don’t blow up!

------------------

Something woke him. Something loud and bright, that pulled him from the depths of blackness.

He hurt. Everything hurt. His head pounded mercilessly. A blazing fierce pain fired through him. It didn’t stop. Breathe… he had to breathe. He was going to die!

Fighting with every ounce of strength he had, he forced his way upward, out of the black and gasped explosively. His eyes shot open to stare wide–eyed at a wall, a white, terribly familiar alcove wall. No…

Oh my God… I’m still here, he thought. Still here!

“No,” he gasped… “No… I…”

He tried to move, but it was as if a Wraith stunner had hit him, without the benefit of numbness. His body wouldn’t respond, and when he tried to move a hand, his muscles spasmed and he gasped against the new pain.

“No… no… no…” He was twisted, his knees tucked to his chest, and facing the bleak wall. Sheppard? Where? I must’ve run out of air, or fainted from the electric shock. The shock… oh God… would it never end? Is it still going on? Every cell in his body ached against it. He hurt. He wanted the hurt to end. It pulsed through him still, setting every nerve on fire.

And he stared at the wall, disbelieving. Still there, he was still in the wretched little alcove!

My tomb, he thought cheerlessly. I don’t want to die here. Please, don’t let me die here…

“Colonel?” he tried to call, his voice raspy. Sheppard? Why hadn’t Sheppard been able to free him? Where had he gone? Why wasn’t he nearby? For certainly, Sheppard wouldn’t have abandoned him here. He wouldn’t, would he?

And for a moment, he felt the empty aloneness – and he furrowed his brow against it. No… no… Sheppard would not have left him.

Then, why wasn’t Sheppard here? He should be, at least, talking, or raging just outside the door.

He tried to suck in another breath, but stopped -- realizing that something had happened to Sheppard – the shock from the control console. My, God, he hadn’t considered the fact that Sheppard might be affected as well -- the shock – the horrible shock. Sheppard might have suffered, too. Sheppard might be unconscious… needing help.

He made a concerted effort to turn. He concentrated, trying to make his muscles work, but they were dead to him, disconnected. His chest heaved in his effort, he gasped, knowing that the air must be poison to him, but he had to try, had to at least see if Sheppard were all right. God, his head hurt…

But what good would it do? What difference would it make if he tried?

His eyes fluttered shut with the realization of his failure. This had been his plan. He’d managed to kill Sheppard as surely as himself. What was the point of anything now?

CHAPTER 10: TOAST

They fired at his door again. John held his P90 at his side, for it would do little good if the door failed.   The door won’t fail, Sheppard reminded himself.

They came in, stunners firing – the drones and the male – came in as if they owned the place, thinking their quarry was trapped and at their mercy. John wouldn’t show them any mercy in return. The stunner-fire stopped. Sheppard watched their movements carefully. The male came to stand at the control console, the drones stood around him. The leader of the group gave Sheppard a superior look, and then it glanced to McKay with a look of detached hunger.

It moved in that strange inhuman manner of its kind. There was something totally alien about it – more insect than man. The closeness of the thing made Sheppard’s skin crawl.

“Two trapped,” it hissed. “I would have thought that only one would be in the alcoves.”

“Guess you lucked out, Bruce. Mind if I call you Bruce?” Sheppard asked casually.

The Wraith looked annoyed. He’d expected fear, he’d expected resistance, he’d expected an attempt at escape – not coolness. Sounding a little ticked off, the creature growled, “I am not to be called by human voices. I answer only to…”

“This trap was set to spring as soon as someone stepped far enough into one of these alcoves, wasn’t it?” Sheppard interrupted. “To trap at least one of our group, and then make it impossible for anyone to mess with the control console to rescue him.”

The Wraith looked proud, as he gazed toward McKay’s unmoving form. It sneered, annoyed. “The others with you…” it paused, glancing toward the door, “Certainly there were others. They managed to escape?” It was a question, laced with a certain amount of disbelief and anger.

“Figured out how to open the door,” Sheppard stated. “Wasn’t so hard.”

“Yet you are still trapped.” It gave an awful smile. “It surprises me that you still have air to breathe. We would have arrived sooner, but were -- detained. How did you survive for so long?”

To that question, Sheppard responded with, “Honestly, I don’t think you deserve to know. You’re going to be toast in a few seconds anyway.”

Annoyed, the Wraith continued, “A dead human is worthless to us.” And he grinned all the wider, his foul teeth showing. “I will take YOU alive.”

“Seem to have gone to a lot of trouble to catch us like this,” Sheppard went on. “Don’t know how well it worked.”

The Wraith stepped away from the platform, moving across the room. “We have you,” he voiced. “We have captured a human from Earth – and that was our desire.”

“So you have me. Big deal. You lost a bunch of your guys and some ships, right?”

Snarling, the Wraith stated, “Soon we shall know everything about Earth.”

“Earth?” John echoed. “You don’t want to go there,” he told him. “The Goth look is passé. It's all Emo now. You’d need to find a new hair stylist and everything.”

The Wraith tried not to look perplexed at this statement, and he stepped closer, two of the drones keeping close behind. “We shall have all of Earth as our new feasting grounds.”

“I don't think so,” John responded. “Tell you the truth, I don’t think you know what the hell you’re doing.” He watched the creature step onto the center circle – his drone guards just outside it.   “And you’re not getting anything out of us.”

The horrible grin did not dip from the creature. “You humans are so weak,” he declared. “We will learn everything we want from you.”

“Obviously not,” Sheppard responded, watching the being shift closer. “Seems to me you’ve learned nothing. Seems to me that you’re all just a bit stupid and a lot over-confident.”

Oh, it didn’t like defiance. Its face became even more awful. “It is a pity for your kind that you do not know when you are defeated.”

And it stepped closer – the two drones moving with him – into the circle.   “Yeah, a pity,” Sheppard stated, and, holding the data-tablet tightly, tapped the central circle on the screen, and then a button corresponding to one of the planets. The room flashed with light, and John threw up an arm to shield his face, closing his eyes against it. Everything flared even brighter, but in a second, the light faded.

John blinked, finding his vision blurry. He blinked again to clear it, and dropped his arm and stare out at a much emptier room.

Three Wraith transported to who-knows-where.   Sheppard grinned. Not bad. Not bad at all.

The remaining two Wraith, spun about, seeming confused, baffled by the sudden disappearance of their compatriots. Then, they did the only thing a rational and thinking creature could do – they fled.

It was probably just a communal instinct – their leader gone – the drones sought to return to the hive. From his space inside the alcove, Sheppard watched the two muscular creatures quickly exit the room and disappear from his sight. In the next second, they were caught up in a firefight.   Sheppard nudged open the transparent door with a thought and sprinted across the open space in time to see the drones fall under Ronon and Teyla’s barrage. One went down before the other. The first one staggered, struggling to get away, only have its head blown off its shoulders with a blast of Ronon’s weapon.

The faceless head clonked to the ground like a coconut and rolled away, a second before the body fell.

The other almost made it to his feet, but Sheppard was ready. He aimed his P90 and fired, filling the creature with as many rounds as the weapon could get off. Teyla assisted. Between them, the Wraith tottered, stumbled and fell down for good, not far from its decapitated brethren.

And for a moment – everything was quiet. Sheppard kept his gaze on the two bodies – but there was no need to worry about them any longer.

Ronon and Teyla appeared from the cover of the woods. “Did the plan work?” Teyla asked urgently.

“Yup,” Sheppard responded, and he ducked back into the room, back to Rodney’s cell. The door shot up as he reached it and he gently grabbed hold of Rodney and eased him out of the confined space.

“How is he?” Ronon asked, staying at the doorway as guard.

“Alive,” Sheppard told him bluntly, he kept his eyes focused on the pale and unconscious scientist.

Teyla was beside Sheppard, helping him with Rodney. She seemed discontent as she brought Rodney onto his side.

“We should hurry,” she said softly. “Dr. McKay needs assistance. We must return home before any more Wraith are sent.”

“Speaking of that,” Ronon started. “Where’d you transport them?” He nodded to the circle in the room – the large matter transporter.

“I think it was the planet nearest the sun. Either that or that gassy one. I wasn’t payin’ that much attention and I’m okay either way.”

“Think they made it there in one piece?” Ronon continued, as he went back to fetch the pieces of his half-constructed stretcher. He frowned as he realized what he’d said. “I mean, did the three of them get there in their three pieces?”

Sheppard shrugged and uttered, “I was happier with your first idea. Either that or three new and amazing Wraith blobs that have never been seen before.”

Ronon nodded, appreciating that image.

Sheppard turned toward the door and said, “Let’s get moving.” And they went to work.

--------------------

He was aware of movement. He swayed. He dipped. He moved. He tried to drift, to let the movement soothe him, but the jagged pain woke him, tormenting him, jabbing at him until he couldn’t slip into the quiet any longer. It brought him back to the living world of agony. Muscles cramped, demanding relief.

He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t handle waking in that horrible space again. He had to get out. Get out now. Sheppard… he had to find out… had to see if the Colonel was all right.

I have to call the others, he rationalized. They’d come back. I have to get out of here.

He had to find Sheppard, had to see if he was okay. He had to reach for his radio – to call the others – to get them to stop chasing Wraith. Should have kept them at the outpost, because, once the door had been opened, they might have been able to escape back through the gate with Sheppard.

Ronon – Teyla – were they okay? The realization made him gasp. Oh God… were they dead, too? I have to … I have to… help…must move… must get out of here.

Nothing… nothing… He couldn’t move. What use are you anyway?

I have to try… I must…

He used every ounce of energy he could muster to turn, to open his eyes, to at least see what had happened to Sheppard. His muscles contracted, screaming as he forced them. Please…please… I must…

And then the whole world exploded on him.

--------------------

“Rodney,” Sheppard called softly, from his rear position, carrying the stretcher. He’d seen a flicker on the scientist’s face, a bit of a grimace where there’d been no expression before.

Ronon, who carried the front of the litter, looked over his shoulder, and slowed his gait. “He wakin’ up?”

“Might be,” Sheppard responded.

They traveled along the high bank of the little brook, carefully toting the scientist back to the gate. Teyla had run ahead, to activate the Gate and to call for the help of others. Worryingly, Rodney hadn’t made a sound and shown no sign of waking. He’d tremble, but there’d been no further movement from him – until now. McKay’s frown deepened, and his limbs made strange little jerking motions.

“Rodney,” Sheppard called again, wishing he had a free hand. “Hey, pal, you all right?” Carrying the stretcher was murder. Already John’s arms ached and he’d considered jettisoning McKay’s pack to lighten the load – but he knew the scientist would strangle him if that happened. At least they were more than halfway there. It wouldn’t take much longer and they’d have McKay someplace safe – have someone who could look after him properly. The stillness had scared Sheppard, but this new movement wasn’t any less disturbing.

“We’re gettin’ you home,” Sheppard continued, trying to sound soothing. “Just hope you don’t rip my arms out of their sockets on the way.”

The twitching continued. The grimace increased.

“How ‘bout we set him down for a sec?” Sheppard asked Dex.

“Be better if we kept moving,” the former runner stated, increasing the pace and forcing Sheppard to keep up.

“I need to check him,” The colonel told him, stumbling at the new gait as he glanced around, hoping to find a decent place to set down their burden.

It was when John’s head was turned that McKay moved – violently. Somehow the scientist twisted, flipping to one side, disrupting the simple litter. Sheppard dropped his end of the stretcher in an attempt to catch Rodney. The pack, caught up in Rodney’s feet only further tangled him. Ronon – shocked by the sudden change, went down on one knee.

Sheppard missed. Ronon vainly tried to keep from losing their cargo. McKay hit the ground, and tumbled down the bank, twisting toward the little stream. Cursing, Sheppard lunged after him, grabbing for Rodney, catching one leg. He threw down his own weight to stop the their downward path, but they skidded on the loose soil. Ronon was beside him in an instant, reaching for Rodney’s arm, slamming himself down on his belly, bringing everything to a stop.

For a second, they panted, completely still, lying on the bank of the creek, while they clung to Rodney. The pretty sound of the water continued past them.

“Damn,” Sheppard said in an exhale.

“Yeah,” Ronon agreed. After drawing in another breath, he climbed to his knees, carefully checking McKay to see if he was okay.

“Why the hell didja have to do that, McKay?” Sheppard groused, watching Ronon as he checked on the Canadian.

“He’s out,” Ronon proclaimed.

Sheppard pressed himself up to his hands and knees, to see for himself. Rodney’s face was slack again – there was no sign of further movement.

“Rodney!” Sheppard called sharply, giving the scientist’s leg a shake. “Come on, Rodney. I know you’re in there!”

But the effort it had taken Rodney to free himself from the stretcher had been enough to send him back into oblivion. Sheppard took his pulse again, and frowned. It didn’t seem good to him, and they were still a long way from the Gate. What were they going to do? Goddamn it! What were they going to do?

Ronon got to his feet, not bothering to dust the sandy soil from his clothing as he grabbed Rodney’s pack and hiked the few feet back to where they’d started. He settled the upset stretcher so that it was level, perching the pack beside it. He glanced down at Sheppard expectantly. “Let’s get going,” he declared.

“Yeah,” Sheppard sighed, rubbing at his aching arms. “Let’s go.” Something told him that Rodney might not have that much time left though. His breathing was still too shallow, and he was still pale as hell. “Come on, McKay,” he sighed. “Wake up, just for a little bit, okay?” He sat down beside his unmoving friend, even as Ronon came back toward them to help tote McKay back to the stretcher.

“We gotta go,” Ronon said. “Him layin’ in the dirt like that isn’t gonna do him any good.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard responded harshly.

“Beckett will help him more than we could.”

“Thanks for the info.”

Ronon scowled. “I wonder about you,” he grumbled. “I got to tell you the most obvious things sometimes.”

Sheppard looked up at Ronon, and found himself smiling at that comment, but the smile dropped into a look of wonder as he looked beyond the Satedan.

From that angle, he could just see something strange in the woods behind Dex -- something out of place in that green and brown world of growing things.

Ronon increased his unhappy look. “What?” he asked. “I got twigs in my hair again?”

“There’s something back there,” Sheppard declared. He stood quickly. “Stay with him,” he ordered as if there was any doubt, and hiked up the steep bank, scuttling quickly to investigate the strange shape in the woods.

--------------------

Sheppard continued forward, enticed by the perplexing shape. It was almost hidden -- massive trees had grown into it, over it. It was covered in dirt and moss and lichen and probably 10,000 years of crap. He frowned as he closed on it – a squat building. What the heck was this for?

The architecture, mostly swallowed up by the centuries, the millenniums of growth, was still visible. Here and there it peeked out at him – the work of the Ancients. John pressed his lips together, remembering how they’d been instructed by the devious Tuweepan hunters to take the path over the hill, and not the easier trek through the valley – this, he figured, was the reason they’d been rerouted.

There was something important about this little building.

“Sheppard,” Ronon called from behind him.

“Gimmie a second,” Sheppard declared, reaching out to touch a wall. He brushed at it, knocking down the moss to reveal a symbol – he recognized it from before -- ‘power’. He brushed again, revealing further symbols that he didn’t recognize.

“Sheppard,” Ronon called again. “We have to go. Now.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard responded, there was no doubting that. “I’m coming.” The sooner they got McKay back, the better chance he’d stand. This wasn’t at time for exploring. He turned, his foot slipped in the duff and he shot out a hand to steady himself against the building – and the wall beneath him shuddered.

He jerked away, gazing in astonishment as a door quivered, sluggishly responding – slowed by the growth of ten-thousand years of ivy and vines.

It made a cracking, shattering sound as it broke up the ancient vines, scraped away the eons of moss and muck, opening to reveal a small room. Daylight streamed into darkness. He stepped forward to gaze into it. What if there was something here to help us, he thought. Something…anything… But little was revealed -- a room, with benches across three walls, a tall cabinet, and then a stairway leading downward into the earth.

“Sheppard!” Ronon called again, his voice urgent now. “Sheppard! Now! He’s not breathing!”

Spinning away from the opening, John lost all interest in the space. Ronon was crouched over Rodney, arranging his head and squeezing his nose shut to begin artificial respiration.

“No…” Sheppard groaned and dashed down to Ronon’s side. The building, apparently sensing he had gone, brought down its door to hide its mysteries once again.

CHAPTER 11: WAFFLES

Ronon breathed for McKay. The Canadian’s heart still beat. Sheppard clung to Rodney’s wrist, feeling the rapid pulse, letting out a groan of distress when the beat finally faded.

He moved into position and started compressions as Ronon backed off. “Come on!” he shouted. “Come on! Rodney. Don’t do this!”

Counting to fifteen, Sheppard kept up the work as he berated, “You’re pissing me off, Rodney! You got plenty of air now! Don’t you DARE do this now that I got you out of that place! And I just found a room of mystery,” he shouted, as he moved out of the way as Ronon leaned back in to breathe. He felt for a pulse – nothing! Don’t… don’t… don’t! Dammit! Please don’t!

“You won’t be able to stand yourself if you don’t have a chance to get down there and check it out!”

Ronon sat back again, silent. He saved his breath for Rodney, his face tight. John saw something akin to fear in the otherwise fearless man’s expression. Sheppard started compressions again.

“Come on! Start breathing! You can do this, Rodney,” John baited. “You’ve pulled off bigger miracles than this. This is small potatoes.” Don’t you even fucking think about it! “This is stupid, Rodney. This is so goddamn stupid for you to do this right now.”

He moved back and Ronon moved in, breathing because Rodney wouldn’t. “We got too much left to do! This whole damn galaxy left to explore. Come on, already!”

Then, miraculously, a gasp – just as Ronon sat back, Rodney took a breath on his own, and another.

The two remained in place, ready to resume the procedure, as Sheppard reached for Rodney’s wrist again – there! He released a sigh of relief to find a pulse again. They were frozen, some small voice telling them that if they remained perfectly still, the moment wouldn’t end, and Rodney would keep breathing – he did. Another breath – and another. The pulse continued, stronger now.

Sheppard looked up to Ronon who held his fearful expression. They were still a good distance from the Gate – a long way to go. And, Rodney was in big – big trouble. So, for that moment, they were still, letting Rodney breathe while they caught their own breaths.

It was only a crashing sound that drew them out of their stillness. Not now! Not now! Goddamn Wraith! John jumped to his feet, while Ronon drew his weapon where he sat – and they aimed into the forest – toward the approaching ruckus. Sheppard glanced up to the strange little building. Could hide in there, he theorized. He was about to dive down to haul Rodney toward it when a voice rang out.

“Colonel Sheppard! Ronon!” Teyla, the sound of her voice was never lovelier.

“We’re here!” Sheppard shouted, letting his weapon drop to his side. Thank God, oh thank God. “We need Beckett! Now!”

“I’m comin’ as fast as I can!” a voice called from further behind.

And then, Teyla was there, with Major Lorne running and panting beside her. She smiled, proud that she had brought help, then paused, looking at McKay as Ronon crouched over him. Her smile dropped, seeing how much worse he looked.

“Dr. McKay?” she asked the simple question to Ronon, who could only give her a halfhearted shrug in response.

“Colonel Sheppard,” Lorne greeted. “We tried to radio you, but received no response.”

Sheppard glanced to Teyla, seeing that she still wore one of their remaining radios. He sighed, touching his ear. The radio was gone -- probably lost somewhere on the bank. “Yeah,” Sheppard responded. “Got a bad habit of losing them.”

“We would have come by jumper,” Lorne went on. “But there was one heck of a pile-up on your side of the Gate. Couldn’t risk it.” He dipped his head adding, "We have a team working on it right now. Should be able to punch a jumper through any minute."

Ronon kept his attention on Rodney, watching him carefully as if the force of his gaze might keep the Canadian breathing.

Then Beckett burst through the woods, with two more marines at his side. “Here you are!” he called, looking happy as a clam, but his eyes instantly fastened on McKay and he pleased expression fell. He dropped to his knees beside the man.

“Stopped breathing. Heart stopped for a bit,” Ronon stated tersely, as if these were everyday matters, but his expression belied his easy tone.

“Oh Lord,” Beckett uttered. “Julian,” he called to one of the marines, and started issuing orders to the young medic.

Sheppard wanted to get in beside Beckett and Ronon, but the medic, Pvt. Deroche, weaseled his way in, opening the large emergency kit, and drawing out supplies as Beckett called for them. Instead Sheppard was left to stand beside Lorne and Teyla, while Sgt. Wilmington stood guard with them.

And Sheppard began to explain what he knew as Beckett went to work.

--------------------

He felt disconnected and strange, almost as if he was floating. Strange… so strange. He was quiet, listening, trying to get his bearings. Nearby, someone spoke in a low tone, too soft to be easily picked up. Sheppard? He concentrated, trying to understand, but the voice faded leaving him with the impression that it had never been there in the first place.

Wishful thinking. If wishes were horses…

He had to do something – he knew that. What was it? Slowly, he tried to move one hand, but it seemed captured, held in place. Closed in… that was it. He was trapped – trapped in that horrible alcove. Oh God. He couldn’t to this! He’d always been afraid of small places – ever since he was a kid… ever since…

What was happening? Was he still in the alcove? It felt as if he’d been trapped for hours! Trapped for days! Help, he cried out with his mind. Get me out! Help! I can’t breathe!

Near him, something started beeping frenetically, and he gasped in panic. Air! He was running out of oxygen! His chest hurt and he refused to draw another breath of the tainted atmosphere. He flailed out his arms, freeing them from the bonds of gravity. He had to get out! One hand got caught up in something. His legs were trapped. He fought. Escape – must get out! Don’t draw another breath! It’ll kill you!

The beeping increased in intensity, and he battled all the harder.

Something clasped onto one arm, trying to untangle it. His other arm was grabbed as well, and he was being forced backward, immobilized. Oh, God, the Wraith had come – and John was dead – and Teyla was dead and Ronon was certainly dead – for surely they would all be gone if the Wraith had gotten this far.

He fought them, as nobly as he could. He wouldn’t go without a battle, but he felt so weak and strange – as if his limbs were not his own.

“Rodney,” he heard someone call. “Rodney! Listen to me, lad. Oh, Lord, he’s not breathing. Rodney, take a breath, you stupid git!” Someone grabbed his face.

They were pressing down on him and he’d be forced to suck in air, knowing that it was nearly gone, that it was killing him. Not wanting to, he breathed in, gasping.

“Oh, thank the Lord.”

Still, he’d fight with every last ounce of strength he had left. He tried to jerk one arm loose.

“McKay, knock it off! You give me a fat lip and you’ll pay for it. Come on, buddy, it’s me!

A bass voice commented, “Don’t fight him.”

“Fight? Damn it, I’m just trying to keep him from hurting himself. McKay!”

A soft voice added, “Rodney, you are safe. You are safe, Rodney.”

“Yeah, McKay, you’re safe until you pull out that IV line and then you’ll be in trouble with the doc. Either you calm down or Beckett’s gonna pump you full of drugs and knock you out, and I think you’ve been out of it for long enough.”

“Ach, I’m not about to do that now. He’ll calm, given a minute.”

He couldn’t move. His arms had been captured -- he was being forced back. “No…” he tried to yell forcefully, but it came out only as a pathetic whimper. “Please… no… I gotta… help…” He couldn’t let them win, not while the others were in danger.

“You’re back in Atlantis! We’re home! McKay, listen! Do you hear me? We’re all safe, McKay.”

He stilled, and listened. Safe? Everyone?

“See, I told you so,” a lilting brogue sounded in his ear.

Panting, he finally opened his eyes, to stare up at Sheppard and Beckett, who were both far too close for comfort. There faces seemed inches from his. He swallowed and gazed back at them, perplexed.

“Welcome back, McKay,” Sheppard said, sitting back almost instantly.

“He—hey,” McKay whispered in a soft greeting.

Beckett still fussed near him, spouting off all sorts of mumbo jumbo. Ignoring his commentary, Rodney turned his head, taking in Teyla and Ronon, who stood near the foot of the bed, looking anxious and concerned. He blinked at them. Teyla smiled, Ronon nodded.

“You’re…” he tried to speak two words together, but his mouth felt pasty. “…Okay?” he completed.

Teyla and Ronon exchanged glances, but Sheppard seemed to understand. “They’re fine, McKay,” he spoke the words distinctly, making sure he made eye contact with the man. “They made it back okay.”

“Okay?”

“We are fine, Dr. McKay,” Teyla assured. “We have only a few scrapes.”

“We all made it back,” Ronon added, his voice stern, as he figured that’s what it took to get through an addled mind.

“Good… good,” McKay stated, his voice a rough whisper. He arched his gaze across the room again. It looked so big. He smiled – perhaps a bit peculiarly – as he took in the open space.

So much air… all the oxygen a man could want.

“How’re you feelin’?” Sheppard asked.

McKay said nothing at first, just enjoying all the room around him. Finally – finally. He kinda liked the infirmary at that moment. Lots of space… lots of space. Then he tried to sit up, and felt his muscles protest. He cringed, trying to ball himself up, only to be halted by Beckett and Sheppard.

“It’ll pass,” Beckett told him.

“Rodney?” Sheppard repeated.

“Crap,” he finally answered, his voice like gravel. “I feel like crap.”

“It’s to be expected,” Beckett told him, sitting back when he figured Rodney wouldn’t keep trying to curl up and torture his already malingered muscles.

“Throat… dry,” McKay said with a wince.

Beckett grasped a cup from somewhere nearby, brought it over the bed. “This should help,” he stated and slid a chip of ice into his patient’s mouth.

It felt like heaven. Rodney let it melt on his tongue and enjoyed its coolness. When he opened his eyes again, he found that everyone was watching him. “What?” he asked distractedly.

Beckett started talking, telling him about his condition and how he was improving. “We almost lost you, lad,” Carson said softly. He looked distraught as he explained, “I don’t think the electricity was meant to kill you."

"That's what you say," McKay groaned, putting a hand to his forehead.

"Aye," Carson responded. "It was set mostly as a detriment, but combined with the hypoxia it’s a miracle you made it.” Beckett ran a nervous hand through his hair. “And then you went and stopped breathing, and then your heart stopped.”

“What? When?” McKay shot back.

“Back on that planet when only Ronon and Sheppard were with you,” Beckett explained.

Grimacing, McKay pressed lightly on his chest. “That’d explain the soreness.” A strange look came over McKay and he looked to his rescuers. “You didn’t have to…” his voice trailed off as he touched his mouth tentatively. “You know…”

Ronon smiled broadly at him, look pretty damn proud of himself. “I did it,” he said simply.

McKay went a little pale, and made a strange gargled sound in the back of his throat that only made Ronon look more pleased.

Desperate to change the subject, Rodney turned to Sheppard. “But, the crystal thing…it worked?”

“Pulling out that crystal to shut down the control console?” Sheppard responded, his voice hard. “If you call nearly killing you a good result, then yeah, it worked. The doors opened.”

McKay nodded. “Good… good.” He paused again, as if building up the strength to ask, “And you were okay?”

“Me?” Sheppard asked, surprised.

“Nothing happened to you?”

“No,” Sheppard exclaimed. “Jeez, Rodney. I was perfectly fine. God, nothing happened to me.”

His lazy gaze took in Ronon and Teyla. They both looked a little battered.

“As told you,” Teyla stated. “Only a few scrapes and bruises.”

“We took out four darts and fourteen Wraith soldiers,” Ronon said with a grin. “And a probe.”

For that, he received an astonished look, that made Ronon smile all the wider. “Well, it was mostly me and Teyla. Sheppard only took down one Wraith – and it was just a drone – and Teyla had to help.”

“Hey,” Sheppard put in, he gave Ronon a glare.

“Some people are just luckier than others,” Teyla added with a smile, which put a glower on Ronon’s face.

“What about the ones I beamed out of there?” Sheppard pointed out.

To that, Ronon didn’t look impressed. “That was more McKay than you,” he declared. “McKay figured it out and you just pressed buttons.”

“What?” Rodney’s voice went up an octave. “You used the transporters? Because, because I told you they weren’t safe. You didn’t try to transport me with that thing.” And he felt around, trying to ensure that all his visible parts were in place.

“Not you,” Ronon assured. “Transported a mess of Wraith over to the planet with the methane atmosphere,” Ronon told him.

“A mess?” McKay echoed. “Can you be any more accurate than that?”

“Mess?” Sheppard thought about the word a moment. “Seems about right from what the Daedalus found when they got there to investigate. I didn’t think lips are supposed to end up where they did.”

Letting McKay puzzle over that for a second, Sheppard continued with, “Oh, and you were right about the doors. Stood up to the full blast of those Wraith stunners.” He waved a hand. “No problem.”

“Oh?” McKay responded, looking perplexed. “Why would you know that?”

“They took a couple good hits,” Sheppard said nonchalantly. “It’s all cool.”

“Good to know,” McKay replied, still not sure of what was going on. “Wish I’d been there.”

Sheppard submerged any thought of telling Rodney that he’d been right there in the thick of it – it’d be better to keep some things quiet.

McKay went on, as he settled further into the bed. He yawned. “Be good to have that door material that around.”

“You should be careful what you wish for,” Sheppard stated.

Frowning, McKay narrowed eyes at him. “And, what’s that supposed to mean?”

It was Teyla who replied for him. “Colonel Sheppard was able to discover the location where the material was created.”

“What?” McKay asked peevishly. “You were out exploring while I was… like this?”

“Let’s say we stumbled on the facility,” Sheppard told him. “Seems they were mining the surrounding planets for what they needed, and whipping up the stuff in an underground chamber on the main planet. We had a team down there. Pretty cool. But they couldn’t make heads or tails of some of it. We might be able to make use of the stuff – and the transporter technology -- pretty cool. Just need someone with, you know, the right brain to get working on it.”

“Really?” McKay asked, sounding like a kid who was told he could have a puppy.

“Seems there’s a ZPM down there,” Sheppard continued.

“A ZPM? I… I could go,” McKay concluded, trying to sit up again. He winced at the strain on his muscles. “I would be the guy to check it out.”

“You are not getting up to investigate it any time soon,” Carson told him. “You will be stayin’ put until I give you leave.”

“But a ZPM!” Strength seemed to increase as McKay considered the possibilities of that.

Sheppard and Ronon were grinning at this change, so it was Teyla who had to delivery the blow. “It was mostly depleted, Dr. McKay.”

“Oh,” and the energy he’d found seemed to leach out as Rodney sunk into his pillow.

“There should be enough to run the place for a while,” Sheppard countered. “At least to see if we can use it.”

“In any case, it can wait,” Beckett decided. “Rodney needs his rest. When I release him, then you can go play in your underground caves.”

“Honestly, Carson,” McKay said quietly, pressing one hand to his forehead. “I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.” He furrowed his brow, the headache still there. “But, you know…” he trailed off as he looked toward Sheppard for help.

“We’ll go when your ready,” Sheppard assured.

“As long as there are no Wraith around,” McKay added.

“We’ll keep an eye out for them,” Sheppard assured. “Might even rig another of Ronon’s Vegomatics. That’ll help keep them out.”

“What?” McKay asked, his eyes bleary and unfocused.

Sheppard stood slowly. He gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. “Go to sleep, McKay.”

“Yeah, well,” Rodney said with a yawn. “Might be a good idea.”

“When you wake up, maybe we’ll have some waffles,” Sheppard added cheerfully.

“Waffles?” McKay repeated softly as he closed his eyes. “Don’t have a waffle iron.”

“I hear a couple of your guys are working on rigging one up,” John said with a smile. “They should be serving them up tomorrow with the regular Tuesday hash browns.”

McKay opened one eye and peered at him, as if gauging if he was being joshed. Finally, he yawned and stated, “Yeah, that would be nice.” And his voice seemed to drift. “I like waffles.” And his breathing evened out.

“Just behave yourself,” Sheppard went on. “Don’t give Beckett any trouble and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Aye,” Beckett responded, sounding weary already, but as he leaned over McKay. After a moment, he declared. “He’s asleep already. He’ll need plenty of it for the next few days. Went through a lot.” With a sorry expression, he muttered, “I doubt his claustrophobia is going to be any better after what happened.”

“He was really very brave,” Sheppard admitted softly. “He could have totally freaked out, but…” A disconsolate look crossed him as he realized how horrible it must have been to run out of air in a contraption like that – not even considering if one was afraid of such a thing to begin with. Damn… yeah, no doubt McKay’s going to have some troubles with small places after this. I wonder if I’ll even be able to get him into a puddlejumper anytime soon.

McKay loved flying.

“He’ll be okay,” Beckett told Sheppard. “As I’ve heard said before, he’s very stubborn and can overcome almost anythin’ given the right incentive.”

“He’ll be fine,” Ronon decided. “Won’t let anything like that stop him from checking out that new stuff.”

Teyla nodded reassuringly, telling Sheppard, “When he wants something, he is quite capable of overcoming obstacles to get what he wants.”

Sheppard smiled, proud of his people.

Beckett regarded the three visitors. “I doubt he’ll wake again tonight. You might as well get some rest.” And, with a knowing smile, he turned and made his through the infirmary and away from the bed that had been strategically placed in the middle of the room.

“Yeah,” Sheppard muttered. He stood quietly by the bedside for several moments, expecting that Ronon and Teyla would have moved on – but wasn’t surprised when they stayed with him.

“You did the right thing,” Teyla assured quietly. “He would have suffocated if you didn’t remove the crystal.”

“Yeah,” John responded. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

Ronon nodded resolutely, and stated, “He will be fine. He is strong.”

Sheppard nodded and turned to the others. “Why don’t you two go get something to eat. I’m gonna stick around a while.”

Teyla nodded. “I will return later to relieve you,” she told him. “I do not want him to be alone.”

Ronon added, “Guess that means, I’ll be third shift.” He shrugged and added, “Will work out good.”

Teyla smiled at the Satedan, and turned toward Sheppard, “He has a ‘date’.”

Ronon reddened a bit at this comment. “Nancy wants to have breakfast with me,” he muttered. When he saw Sheppard’s eyes widen at that comment, he added with a growl, “What’s wrong with that.”

“That new lieutenant from the Daedalus?” Sheppard asked.

Teyla nodded a confirmation and turned to Ronon. “She stated that she’d like share breakfast with you?” she asked, her voice light and teasing.

With a shrug, the Satedan commented, “Said she’d like a lot of things.” And Teyla took his arm and turned him toward the door. Together they walked away, with Teyla laughing as Ronon went on to describe exactly what Nancy liked.

Sheppard smiled at his teammates as they made their way out. When he was alone, Sheppard settled into the available chair, glad to see that Beckett had left a pillow and a blanket on the next bed – in case anyone wanted to stretch out and relax a bit more as they waited. “Beckett’s a good man,” Sheppard murmured.

With a relaxed expression, Sheppard settled into his seat. Almost tentatively, he reached out a hand to rest it on his friend’s shoulder – glad that he could touch him. For a moment, he just watched Rodney breathe, then settled in to wait for him to wake up again. There’d be waffles for breakfast and that should be enough to get anyone up in the morning – that and Nancy.

Chuckling, Sheppard gave Rodney a pat and relaxed and waited for morning.

THE END - Honest, I have no idea where all this Breakfast food stuff came from.
Thank you so much for all your comments. I appreciate them more than you know.

Hope you enjoy the story. comments and suggestions