Winter Wonderland - the second Half
By NotTasha...  latest addition is Chapter 24:

CHAPTER 13:  RATHER BE IN A HOT TUB

The snow fell, pretty little flakes that danced in the cold air.  John tucked himself as close as he could to Rodney without moving the man.  “Cold as hell,” he muttered, his hands deep in his pockets.  He kept his gaze on Rodney, afraid of his stillness.  “We’ll get you out of here,” he promised.  “Just hang on.  You’ll be fine.”

McKay had damn well better be fine, Sheppard thought.  He hated the idea of keeping Rodney lying in the snow.  All he wanted to do was get him out of that hollow and get him back to the Ekukians’ caves and out of the cold – or better yet, back to Atlantis.

The breeze kicked up and Sheppard squinted against it.   He missed his hood.  With his back to the open field, he could provide a windbreak and he did his best to shield Rodney from the blast.   The wind died down after a moment and John sighed, keeping his gaze on McKay  -- still no movement from him. 

The snow continued to fall – slowly, beautifully.  It was downright peaceful.

“Rodney, this is one crappy place to end up,” Sheppard muttered.  “How’re you doin’?”  Pulling his hands from his pockets, he felt the immediate bite of the cold.  He worked one hand under Rodney’s scarf again, glad to find he was still some warmth under that coat.  His cold hands couldn’t tell if there was anything too hot or too cold though.  He moved his hand deeper into the jacket and winced when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“What’re you doin?” McKay asked quickly.  “God, you’re like ice!  Why are you touching me like that?”

Sheppard smiled, withdrawing the hand.  “Just checking,” he explained.

“Trying to give me a heart attack!” McKay spat back. “I hope that isn’t your idea of fun and high-jinx!” He laboriously moved his free arm about, to tug at his collar, sealing it.  “Not a fair way to treat a sick man.”  His voice was quiet, as if he couldn’t put a lot of force behind it.  “Can’t fight back.”

“Figure I had to do something to wake you up,” Sheppard responded quietly.

“It wasn’t nice,” McKay returned.

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Sheppard told him. He settled himself on his butt in the snow, letting his legs stretch out.  “Ahhhh,” he let out, glad to have the weight off his hurt knee.  When McKay started to stir, probably wanting to get comfortable, too, Sheppard laid a hand on him and said softly, “Don’t move.”

“Not fair.”  Letting out an irritated sigh, McKay added, “This is unbearable.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Where’s Ford?”

“He went to strip some crap off the snowmobile.  Figure we can make some sort of sled for you.”

“He went by himself? What if those hyena-dog things are running around?”  Rodney’s eyes darted about nervously.  “You shouldn’t have let him go alone.”

Sheppard paused, blew on his hands, and shoved them into his pockets again.   He kept his gaze on McKay, as the scientist worriedly tried to find Ford.  “He’ll be fine.”

“What were you thinking?” Rodney added.  “Shouldn’t have gone alone.”

“Haven’t seen any devil dogs down here,” Sheppard told the worried man.

McKay let out a panting breath.  “I can’t see him.”

“He’s out of sight right now.”

“So, how can you tell that he’s okay?”

“I figure Ford can take care of himself.”

Groaning, McKay added, “But, they attack so quickly, and I can’t see anything from this angle.”

“I can,” Sheppard told him.  “I’ll keep an eye open.”

“You’d better.”

“I will.  Nothin’s getting close to us.”

“What about Ford?”

John sighed and glanced in the direction that the lieutenant had disappeared.  “I’ll watch out for him, too.”

And they sat in silence for a moment.  Snow fell lightly around them, making a muffled sound.   Funny, John hadn’t realized that falling snow could make a sound. He listened to it for a time – the soft zffft – zffft of feather-light flakes impacting into the white world.  Disconnectedly, he watched the slow dance.

Turning his attention back to McKay, Sheppard could see just enough of his face, to see that he was failing again, starting to sleep.  “Stay awake, McKay,” he ordered, pulling a hand from his pocket to again brush off the accumulation of snow from his companion.  “I don’t want to haul your ass around without you helping out.”

“M’awake,” McKay countered.  He blinked wearily.  “You’d think I was miserable enough to be unable to sleep.”  He groaned.  “Having trouble keeping my eyes open.”  He moved, trying to pull himself into a ball – only managing to hunch his shoulders.

Laying a hand on the scientist shoulder, Sheppard sternly repeated, “Don’t move.”

Frowning, McKay returned, “If I’m just going to freeze to death, what difference does it make?”

“You’re not going to freeze to death,” Sheppard tried to assure.  “You got your super jacket.  It’s keeping you nice and toasty.”

“But my legs…”

“That’s why you have to keep still.  Can’t have you moving.”  John continued brushing off the snow, careful to remove what he could from Rodney’s legs.  They had all worn the insolated snow trousers – Sheppard just hoped it would be enough.  If Rodney had no feeling in his legs, was he getting any circulation?  God, this sucked.  He continued to brush at the snow, as McKay watched the movements with a troubled expression.

John settled, wishing he had his hood.  Distractedly, he ran his fingers through his hair, sending down a shower of white.

McKay looked up at him, perplexed when he saw the state of John’s coiffure.  He blinked for a moment, his eyes searching as if he were trying to find his chain of thought.  “What will I do?” he finally asked softly.

“You’re gonna keep still.”

“No… no… What will I do if… if…I can’t ever move again?”

Sheppard blew out a breath, watching it form into clouds.  “Don’t worry about that right now, McKay.”

“Well, I am going to worry because it’s bothering me!” McKay snapped back.  “What will happen to me if… if I’ve broken my back?”

“You’ll manage.”

“They’ll send me back, won’t they?”

“Well, you see, you have the advantage in that situation because we have no way of sending you to Earth, and…”

“But they will, won’t they?  When we find a ZPM, they will send me back.   You would if you could, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re not letting me finish.”

“Because I’ll be pretty much useless to you, won’t I?”  His voice was soft, yet bitter.  “I couldn’t be on the team.” His voice caught.  “I couldn’t go off world.  There’s so much I’d miss out on.” He drew in a quick breath.  “I hardly believe that all these worlds are handicap accessible,” he snipped

Rodney kept speaking, not allowing Sheppard a moment to edge his way in.  “And, the city – so much of it needs to be explored, yet how much would I be able to see?”  He raised his hand, gesturing.  “I have to be able to touch it, to get right in there to truly understand.  How can I trust mere reports?”  His words came faster.  “Other people’s reports… what if they miss something… something that I would have seen?  Much of the city still can’t be easily reached.  It’ll take months to clear the damage from the storm.”  One hand reached out, catching John’s sleeve again.  “What will I do if I can’t get around in the city?”

“We’ll take care of it,” Sheppard responded, doing nothing to remove the hand. “Don’t do this, Rodney.  We don’t know…”

Rodney continued, his voice growing more intense,  “I’ll be stuck doing lab work.  My life.  I’ve spent my whole life in labs, behind computers… I’ll have to go back to that.  It’s not as if I’m not used to that sort of thing.  But, I liked fieldwork, you know.  I really enjoyed it.  Scary sometimes, I mean, it really wasn’t my element, but I liked getting out there.”

“Would you just listen to me?  Rodney, it’s not going to happen like that.”

“That planet with the… devil dogs.”  His voice became softer.  “Okay, I didn’t care for this at all.  Don’t care for this either.”  He laughed, a short abrupt sound.  “So stupid.  It was such a stupid, pointless accident to leave me crippled.”

“McKay, you need to knock it off.  We’ll get Beckett to look at you and then we start thinking about that crap.  I’m sure he’ll be able to take care of things.  Think about it…”

“Think --  that’s all I do.  That’s all I’ll be able to do from now on,” McKay commented, his voice a whisper.  He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then seemed to come to a conclusion.  “You know, you wouldn’t send me back – not even if you could.  Atlantis can’t manage without me.  But I’d certainly be less useful.  They’d probably give me Grodin’s position.  You could have him on your team.”  The hand still gripped John’s sleeve, gloved fingers twisting the fabric.

“Rodney…”

“You’d like him.  He’d fit right in, and he’s pretty easy to get along with.   A good man – the best.  Throws a mean punch, but …”

“Rodney!” Sheppard growled between his teeth.  “Would you knock it off?”

“The truth hurts,” Rodney returned, keeping one gloved hand clenched at John’s sleeve as he shivered.  He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight.

“Damn it, McKay,” Sheppard returned, feeling tired as hell.  “You’re putting the cart before the horse.   Jumping to conclusions.  I know that’s what you’re good at, making connections in that massive brain of yours, but you’re going from Point A to Point Z a little too quickly.”

McKay blew out a breath.

“What I’m thinking is, you just hit your back pretty hard,” Sheppard continued in a low voice.  “You got yourself good and bruised.  Either that or the cold has gotten to you.  Soon as we get back to Atlantis, Beckett will get you warmed up and you’ll be good as new.”

Eyes opened and sought him.  “You think?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking.”

“Because I bruise easily.”

“See, just a bruise.  Maybe we can even find a Jacuzzi somewhere.  You could probably use a good soak.”

“Really?  You think there might one somewhere?  I do my best thinking in a tub.”

“Atlantis is huge, and the Ancients seemed to like bein’ comfortable.  I don’t see why they wouldn’t have hot tubs tucked away somewhere.”

McKay closed his eyes and for a moment looked comfortable.  He sighed.  “That’d be nice.”  He glanced up at Sheppard and asked, “You ever go hot tubbing in the snow?”

“Sure,” Sheppard replied.  “It’s a kick.”

“Never have done that,” McKay sighed.  “Just add it to the list of all the things I’ve never done – never will do.”

“Rodney…”

“It’s just that… it’s just that I’m a little bit… scared.”

“Don’t be.”

“But what …”

“Shhh,” Sheppard tried to say, but was cut off by a similar sound – a great huffing breath – a snort.  He felt his heart seize up for a moment as he raised his head slowly -- finding himself staring at a great shaggy head. “Oh… crap…” he whispered.

“What?  What?”  McKay frantically responded.

“Shhh,” Sheppard said again.  “Don’t move.”

“Well, that’s what I’ve been trying…”

“Don’t move… don’t make a sound!" The words were urgent and low, as Sheppard stared back into the big black eyes of a tapa looming over them – so close, the breath from its rubbery snout warmed his face.  Suddenly, the cold wasn’t that big a deal.

CHAPTER 14:  INTERFERENCE

Ford kicked at the snow-skid – trying to free the plating that protected the exposed side.  He’d managed to tip forward the seat.  Apparently, it had been designed to perform this operation to expose a storage area beneath – but he hadn’t managed to remove it from the vehicle.

Frustrated, Ford worked at the side panel.  It was rather flimsy.  Maybe they could slide McKay onto it, and pull him across the snow until they found something that’d work better as a stretcher.  It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it’d keep Dr. McKay’s back relatively still.

He’d hoped that the seat would’ve served that function, but it was too contoured.  The seatbacks that had made the ride more comfortable would make the unit impossible to use as a bed.  Maybe he could rip the cover and padding off to insulate him a bit.

He had found no tools – nothing that could have made the deconstruction easier.   And all the while, he knew he had to hurry.  This was no time for puttering about.

“Come on,” he grumbled, trying to vibrate one side of the housing off the machine.  It wasn’t budging.  It was frustrating as all heck, and he was making no headway.  He chanced a glance toward where Sheppard was watching over McKay – not expecting to see them from his position – but what he DID see took his breath away.

The tapas, which had been so distant when they first arrived, had closed in.  “No…” Aiden whispered.  “No…”  He stepped away from the wrecked snowmobile, and unclipped his P90.  “Oh God, no…”

The biggest of them seemed to be right over the spot where he’d left McKay and Sheppard.  A few others lumbered nearby.  Feeling panic rising, Ford thumbed on his radio, “Major!” he called.

He received an earful of static in return, and the merest hint of a voice.

Ford held one hand to his ear, trying to hear through the interference, while the other hand kept the weapon ready.  “Major, what do you want me to do?” he asked.

Static.   Damn it!  “Major!” he called again, and then turned when a chuttering sound reached him.

He spun about, trying to find the source of it, and then trod through the snow to get around the trees.  What…?  Finally clear of the impediments, he smiled.  “They’re coming!  Akhiok and the others!” he called into the radio, on the off chance that the transmission was getting through.  He turned off the mic and raised a hand over his head.  “Akhiok! Karluk!” he shouted as he waved broadly, trying to get their attention.

Ten snow-skids were plowing through the valley.  White dogs ran along with them.   Aiden kept waving, watching them come toward him.  He smiled broadly, trying to flag them down. The smile dipped as they failed to slow – in fact, their speed increased as they came in view of the tapas.

“Major.  We have more problems.  The Ekukians aren’t stopping,” Ford said in his radio.  “They’re not slowing down!”  The big, harpoon shaped guns were mounted on the front of the skids, and Ford sucked in his breath, realizing what they were up to.  “They’re on the hunt!” he announced, but still received no response.

Oh God, the major and the doc were going to be trampled in a stampede!

Getting no orders from Sheppard, Aiden surged forward.  “Akhiok! Akhiok!”  He waved both arms furiously, and suddenly, as the machines were passing, the riders on one of the skids turned.  They went on for a moment longer and, if a snowmobile could show emotions, it seemed to turn reluctantly.

Some of the itnas slowed too, gazing at him with their stark blue eyes before they apparently decided that the tapas were more enjoyable prey and they took off again.  The skid sped toward him, and Ford strode out to meet the riders.  Karluk, in the driver’s seat, immediately asked, “Have you found your friend?”

Meanwhile, Akhiok shouted from his back seat, “Where is Tyonek’s skid?”

Ford didn’t hear the questions.  “Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay are out there!” he shouted, pointing toward the big tapa.  “I think they’re right under that tapa.  You guys gotta pull back!”

Karluk pursed his lips, glancing toward the tapas.  The other skids continued to advance.

“Call them back!” Ford demanded frantically.

“Too late,” Karluk responded, sounding genuinely remorseful.

Because the tapas had spotted the approaching skids and had started to move.


CHAPTER 15: BONGOS

“What?” McKay asked, trying to look out of his hole.  “What’s going on?”

“Shhhh!” Sheppard tried again, twisting to look over his shoulder.  The creature was huge, looming over him, with a head as big as a kiddy-pool and a big rubbery nose that couldn’t really be called a trunk.  Its eyes, looking too small for its massive head, blinked at him.  Its legs were like tree trunks and its long stringy hair hung almost to the ground. It looked like a weird mix of elephant and bison, but bigger than both put together.   The damn thing was as big as a house.

At that moment, Sheppard was struck by the realization that the creature didn’t stink.  Funny, he would have believed something as big and hairy as that would reek to high heaven.  But, the breath that steamed him could have been a hell of a lot worse.  The warmth it gave off wasn’t half bad.

It shifted, lifting one leg and then settling it down with a muffled thump.  It blinked and let out another snort.

“Oh God…” McKay groaned, finally angling his head so he could see around Sheppard.  He winced, and then stated bluntly, “I thought you were supposed to be watching out!”

“I was trying, but you kept distracting me,” Sheppard said through his teeth, feeling miserable as hell for letting this happen.  Crap!  What the hell was the matter with him!  He looked in disbelief as several more of the creatures wandered near them.  They moved almost silently, their big feet making little more than a quiet ‘whump’ against the snow. 

“Something that big got this close to us?” McKay went on in a low voice.

“Kinda snuck up on me.”

“How does something that enormous sneak?”

“They tip toe,” Sheppard answered quietly, his gaze on the creature as his hand felt for his P90.  The tapa’s eyes were big and black, looking as shiny as freshly polished shoes.  Something dripped from its nose, freezing in the hair around its nostrils.

“What do we do?” McKay whispered beseechingly.

“Like I’ve been sayin’,” Sheppard hissed.  “We keep still and we keep quiet.  He’s gonna think we’re not worth his time and they’re all going to move off.”

“They?  All?  There’s more than one?”  Panic tinged the hushed response.

“Keep quiet.  Keep still,” Sheppard reiterated, watching the thing as it turned its huge head to look at him with one eye.  It blew more warm air on him, looking docile and dumb.  “Just checking us out,” John said softly.   His radio crackled.  Ford’s voice was unintelligible. “See, he doesn’t mean us any harm.  Just wants to see…”

His voice trailed off as the demeanor of the creature suddenly changed.  Its lethargic movements were replaced as its head jerked to one side, and it sidestepped, turning quickly.  It was like being on a street corner when a bus came around too quickly.

Protectively, Sheppard threw himself over McKay as the thing wheeled, its big feet coming down far too close for comfort.

McKay wheezed as Sheppard’s weight pressed on him.  “What?  What’s happening?” he demanded to know, frantically trying to see.

There were at least six tapas, and all of them started following the lead of the first – turning about and forming into a loose circle. 

John picked up a sound – the roar of approaching snow-skids.  He lifted his head, at first marveling that the Ekukians were coming to their rescue.  The Ekukians riding in to save them!  But reality struck him as he noted the guns mounted on the skids – and he realized the reason they were storming in.

“Bastards!” he growled between gritted teeth, as a clump struck his shoulder.  The snow creaked and groaned above that ledge.  It was as if the whole world was sighing.

He could hear the baying of the itnas, and beneath him McKay cringed, looking up with that horrified expression.  “Those dogs are coming?” he whispered harshly.

God, the damn devil dogs were the least of their worries!  John returned his attention to the closest of the mammoths.  Its attention was on the approaching skids.  If the thing were to jerk to one side in escape, they’d be pounded to paste.   Quickly, Sheppard debated whether he could chance moving McKay out of the way.  Getting up and drawing attention to themselves might be the worst thing to do in this situation.  The tapa was already mad – if it were to see them in motion…

The itnas had reached the tapas – and started darting about them, yipping and yowling, leaping and snapping, laughing that horrible hyena cackle.  And then, mammoths started crying – trumpeting – blatting – blaring like off-key car horns. Clots of snow came down on Sheppard’s head and back as he crouched over McKay.

“Hey!” Rodney cried when a chuck of icy snow struck him.

The lead tapa stomped its forefeet aggressively as the Ekukians came nearer.  The other tapas took up the action of the first – and they beat the ground as if it were a bongo.  Between their trumpeting and pounding, the sound was nearly deafening.

Everything shook.  Sheppard chanced looking away from the spectacle – up – up at the layer of snow.  It vibrated – chunks of snow were showering as the upper level shifted.  Above his head – the sound of crumbling, breaking, sliding snow.  Oh, God – this wasn’t going to be good.

It was all coming down.

No time to think – only react – Sheppard shifted his position, pulled McKay into a sitting position.  Then, grasping him under his shoulders, Sheppard frantically pulled the physicist backward, toward the hillside.  If Rodney made a sound, Sheppard didn’t hear it.  He was yanking for all he was worth – the snow beneath his feet giving no traction.

The rumbling roaring of falling snow mixed with the beat and the trumpet of the tapas, and underneath it the chatter of the snow skids and wicked laughter of the itnas.  He kicked and drove his feet into the snow, sending up a shower of white, even as white came down on them.  Hardly knowing how he managed it, he tugged the physicist, pulling for all he was worth.  His aching knee hardly mattered.  The noise filled his head, pushing out all other thoughts except, “Get the HELL out of here!”

Suddenly, his back slammed against the rock.  He let out an ‘oof’, and yanked McKay closer to him as the whole world came down on them – first white – and then everything went black.


CHAPTER 16: WORDLESS

Ford went into motion, leaping into the last seat on Karluk’s skid and demanding they stop the other Ekukians.  Karluk gamely attempted to comply.

Leaning to see around the two men, Ford tried to pinpoint where he’d left Sheppard with McKay.  Damn it!  If he were right, that big elephant-thing was right above them – almost on top of them.

All six of the creatures were moving, swaying to-and-fro as if trying to gauge the predators that were attacking them.  Then, as the closest skids came near, the creatures started bawling – a hoarse blaring sound like a trumpet played too hard when the mute was in its bell – a harsh ‘blat’ that he felt reverberating in his sternum.  Then they started pounding their feet.

The weird, white, devil dogs had outrun the skids and were darting around, in and about the huge elephant creatures.  The tapas seemed determined to smash the itnas into the snow.  He held on as Karluk gunned the engine.

His attention riveted on the enormous tapas, Ford didn’t even see it until it was almost too late.  There was a whoosh and then a horrible rumble, and Ford turned in time to see the wall of snow give way.  It came down like thunder, like a freight train.  He let out a shout, his voice joining the ruckus – the blaring of the tapas, the yowling of the itnas, the high whine of the skids, the rumble of the avalanche.

He was too late.  He could only hold onto the handgrips as it came down – all of it – a wall of snow sloughing from the hill, tumbling, falling, pounding into the valley floor, obliterating everything in its path.

The tapas reared up.  They leapt and fought against the surging snow like salmon running upriver.  The majority of the devil dogs didn’t stand a chance.  The white wash of snow clobbered them, turning and tossing them – snout over tail – consuming them.

The skid drivers made wild turns, attempting to outrun it or avoid it.  Two of the machines got caught up in the falling mess.  One driver managed to get his skid up on top of the flow, only to be bowled over seconds later.  The other managed to turn away, but was clipped by the falling balls of snow and sent tumbling.

A couple of the mammoths were nearly knocked down by the force of the avalanche, but managed to keep their footing.  They ran – and ran – until they’d outrun the worst of it – and they kept running – bleating and bawling and escaping.

In a few seconds it was over.  Ford was left, clinging still to the vibrating snow-skid, his gloved hands clutching the handgrips until he lost feeling in them, wordlessly shouting.

For there were no words to express what he felt.


CHAPTER  17:  ENTOMBED

He was aware of breathing – harsh, labored breathing.  He could see nothing – he could just hear his breath being reflected back at him, and with him – the sound of McKay gasping.

“Rodney,” he called.  “Rodney, are you okay?”

Between panting breaths, McKay got out, “What the hell was that?  I thought you said…”  He wheezed, hardly able to draw air. “…you said… we weren’t going to be… moving!  What about… keeping still?  I… I…”

“Hang on, Rodney.”  Sheppard frantically felt around, trying to figure out what was wrong. It was too dark to see.  The frantic gasping continued.  “Calm down,” he demanded. “You have to calm down.”

“What the hell happened? Why did you do that?”

“It was either move fast or get crushed in the avalanche.”

“Is that what that was?”

“Yeah, tons of snow falling.  Avalanche.”

“I thought maybe… one of those things was trying to trample us. Least we got away from those dogs, huh?”

“Yeah, the damn dogs.  I don’t think we have to worry about them anymore.”

“Good… good…”

Sheppard let out a sigh, realizing that McKay seemed to be calming down – that he wasn’t wheezing quite so much anymore.  At least, John thought, I haven’t killed him, yet. That crisis temporarily averted, John tried to get a handle on their current situation.  They had managed to get under the ledge.  It had protected them, but now they were totally entombed.  It was dark – but not completely black.  Light shown faintly through the layers of snow – pale and blue -- too faint to allow them to see much of anything.

“How do you feel?”  Sheppard asked hopefully.

“How do I feel?  Frozen!  Mauled!” McKay answered testily.  “Bruised, maimed, folded, spindled and mutilated.”  He paused suddenly, and in the almost darkness, Sheppard listened to Rodney breath again.

“Rodney?” Sheppard tried.  No answer.  “Rodney?”  He jiggled the man.

“Still can’t,” Rodney replied quietly.  “I still can’t… my legs.  I thought maybe… but…”

In the faint bluish light, Sheppard could see almost nothing – shadows mainly.  Their sanctuary was tiny – little bigger than a bathtub.  The wall of snow encroached on three sides – their fourth wall was the stone cliff.  Above them – several feet up was the ledge that had protected them.  They were apparently in a depression – the ground beneath them was almost bare of snow.

“Here, let me … ugh… get out from… ah… okay…” Sheppard tried shifting around.  He’d ended up with McKay mostly in his lap, and it was a rather uncomfortable position to say the least.  “Can you lean forward?  There, just put your arms up here.  Can you get your weight on the snow here?  Okay, hang on… almost… there.  You okay?”

McKay was leaning forward, his head pressed against the snowy wall, saying nothing.  Painfully, Sheppard managed to get his leg out from behind McKay, the knee letting him know that it hadn’t liked the recent escapade.  Fine, John thought, thanks for letting me know.  He hissed in pain as he drew the leg out from its predicament.

“You okay?” Rodney asked quickly.

“Fine… just fine.”  Sheppard got out quickly. He pressed one hand against Rodney’s back to ensure he stayed upright. 

“You don’t sound fine…”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Sheppard snapped.  “Can you keep yourself like that for a sec?”  And he maneuvered himself out from behind the scientist.  "You okay?”

“Fine…” Rodney echoed.

“Okay, I’m out,” Sheppard finally declared.  “Let’s get you laid back.”  He felt down to where McKay’s legs were, so that he could grab hold and get them moved since Rodney couldn’t manipulate them.  “Crap,” he muttered.

“What?” McKay responded.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

“Hang on a minute,” Sheppard demanded, feeling for the P90.  He flicked on the light, and the bluish glow of the light beyond the snow disappeared, replaced with blinding white.

Rodney squinted, his upper body pressed against the snow that encapsulated them.   His hands gripped at ripples in the snow to keep himself upright. “What?” he asked again, tiredly.

“Crap,” Sheppard repeated as the light revealed what he’d feared.  He instantly dropped the weapon and started digging.

Rodney looked down in horror.  His body seemed to end just above his knees, the rest of his legs disappeared into the white. He let out a miserable sound.

“It’s okay, Rodney,” Sheppard called.  “I’m getting you out!  I’ll get you out of this.  Hang on.  Just keep calm.”

As John’s voice rose in panic, McKay felt a strange composure come over him.  “It’s okay,” he said softly.  “I can’t feel it.”  He watched Sheppard frantic movements, digging through snow around his legs.  “It’s not bad.”

“Damn it!” Sheppard cursed as he worked.  “Goddamn it!”

“Wait,” Rodney said.

“I’m getting you out!” Sheppard declared hotly, not slowing, trashing at the packed snow in his attempt to get through it, to free the trapped legs.

“Just be reasonable a moment then,” Rodney declared.  Keeping himself propped against the snow, he used his teeth to pull off one glove, dropping it on John as he worked at the other.  “At least get your gloves on.”


CHAPTER 18:  BEAR SHIT

“Oh God… oh God…” Ford gasped as Karluk guided the skid away from the rushing snow.  Both Karluk and Akhiok were shouting to their compatriots, calling to them.

And it stopped.  The snow stopped rumbling and tumbling.  The trumpeting and thumping of the tapas faded as they put distance behind them.  Snow-skids still puttered.  Somehow, about half of the itnas had escaped the devastation, and they limped about, looking chagrinned and confused -- hearty bastards.

“Get closer!” Ford ordered, his voice hoarse.  He pointed to the spot where he’d last seen the major and the doc.  A ton of snow rested there now.  Good God – was there any hope?

“Tyonek and Gakona!” Akhiok said, pointing toward a couple of Ekukians who stumbled about without a skid near the mounded snow.  “We have to see to them.”

“They’re movin’!” Ford shot back.  “There’s others who can look after them!  We’ve got to find the Major and Dr. McKay!”

Karluk seemed to see the wisdom in this statement, and he left Tyonek and Gakona to be picked up by others of their group.  He diverted the course of his skid, bringing it back around to where the Atlaneans had once been.

Ford clutched at his radio, trying it in spite of his fears.  “Major!  Major!  Dr. McKay!  Can you read me?”  Only static was returned.  Please, he prayed.  Please…  And still nothing.

It was just snow, right?  Fluffy, puffy snow – soft and light and… nice.  But as they closed on the site, Ford saw nothing of the sort.  Boulders of snow -- slabs of snow covered the area – looking as heavy and uncompromising as stone.  They’re fine.  They’ve got to be fine, Ford insisted to himself, even as he felt his hopes fading.

Karluk brought the skid to a stop at the foot of the newly created hill.  “Where?” he called over his shoulder.  Between them, Akhiok scowled uncertainly.

Ford pointed up.  They’d have to get up and over the pile to where he remembered they had been – but honestly he had no idea. All he could remember was that Sheppard and McKay had been relatively near the cliff – but everything looked different now.   All points of reference were gone.

A shitty situation all the way around – there was no better way to describe it.

Killing the engine, Karluk nodded.  “We should be on foot,” he declared.  And they dismounted.  Some of the other Ekukians had followed them, pulling their skids alongside.  Akhiok descended from the skid to talk to the others.  Ford followed Karluk as he climbed up the helter-skelter pile of snowballs.

It reminded the lieutenant vaguely of a winter spent with his cousins, and how they’d spent a day making a fort – shaping snow into walls and passageways.  It had been pretty impressive when they were done.  They’d labored on it all day.

Then, someone had decided to play ‘king of the hill’ and the fort had been smashed to nothing within a few minutes.  With a tight expression, Ford recalled that he was the one who’d started that particular game.  He and his older cousins – big fellas – had destroyed everything.  He also remembered that his younger cousins were the ones who had done most of the work on the fort.

His uncle had owned a Newfoundland-mix  – Chief – a big as a bear.  The cheerful dog had loved the snow.  Ford remembered how his cousin Lara had sat down in the snow and had pulled the overgrown pup into her lap and had cried over the ruin of that winter wonderland.  Chief was a great dog.  That dog could do anything.

Glancing back, Ford watched as the remaining devil dogs slinked in among the parked skids.  “Karluk!” he called, catching up to the nimble man.  “Karluk! Those itnas, do they know how to search for people?”

The Ekukian gave Ford a strange look. “No, they are creatures for hunting animals.  I don’t trust them much,” he admitted.  He paused to watch one of the itnas as it crept in amongst the skids.  Karluk changed his gaze to take in Ford.  “You do realize that your friends’ chances are bleak?” he asked softly.

“We’re not going there,” Ford responded, his voice still harsh and a little squeaky from his shouting.  “We’re going to do everything we can to find them.”

Karluk nodded.  “We will do all we can,” he pledged.  He turned when a couple of the skids fired up below them.  The snowmobiles peeled off and headed back the way they’d come.  “They’re returning for digging supplies,” he explained.

As they reached the top of the pile, Ford took in the extent of the disaster.  The entire hillside was free of snow.  It had all come down – all on top of his teammates.  Oh shit… shit shit shit!  How in the hell were they going to find them?

He snapped on his radio again, hoping against hope, “Major Sheppard.  Doctor McKay?”  static – only static.  Frantic, he turned, watching as the two skids headed back toward the compound.  Teyla, he thought.  Teyla, he had to get a message back to her – so that she’d dial Atlantis – get some real help.  She’d make that decision though, wouldn’t she?  Once the word reached the compound?  Of course – but if she was still sick – if she were asleep – would the Ekukian’s be too stupid to wake her?

Does a bear shit in the woods?

“Call them back!” Ford demanded.  “I need to send a message to Teyla.”

With a shrug, Karluk commented.  “We have no means of doing so.  I could send another skid.”

“Yes, yes… Now!”  Ford responded quickly, gazing toward the compound.  “She needs to send a message to our home.”

“Who should I send?” Karluk asked him, gesturing to the remaining group.

Ford gazed at the man as if he’d just grown another head.  How the hell should I know? Ford thought.  Dammit, these people truly had shit for brains.  “Listen,” he stated, “I don’t care who the hell you send, just…”   his voice trailed off as he spotted something heading toward them – something far above the valley.  The glare of the snow made it difficult to differentiate  - but as it came closer he nearly dropped to his knees in relief.

A ship.  A puddlejumper.

The vision reached them to hover, dipping slightly so that he could see the occupants.  Stackhouse and Markham nodded down at him from the cockpit – and between them, Teyla smiled.


CHAPTER 19:  DAFFODILS AND SUNSHINE

“Okay, okay,” Sheppard stated, pulling himself out of the cave that he’d dug around McKay’s legs.  As far as he could tell, nothing further had happened to the senseless extremities.  There was something terribly odd about digging around those legs, knocking into them from time to time, and knowing that McKay felt nothing.

“How are you doing?” he asked as he squirmed out.

“Fine…”

“Well, it’s going to get better,” Sheppard promised.  “Soon as we get you out of this.”  He brushed at his shoulders as he retracted.  “I got your legs freed up.  We just have to get you …” he paused as he noted McKay’s pained expression.

Rodney had been leaning against that icy wall, bare hands clenching at the nodules of snow, clinging to keep himself upright.  He breathed harshly with the effort.  Crap!

“Hang on,” Sheppard stated.

“It’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes!” McKay growled through his teeth.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Sheppard shot back, getting one arm across McKay’s back and wrapping the other around his waist.  “I’m gonna ease you back a bit, okay?  There’s not a whole lot of room, but once we get you sideways and on your back…”

“No… no, I want to sit up,” McKay insisted.  “Can’t you just lean me against the wall over there.”

“Beckett would kill me,” Sheppard responded.

“Well, he’s already going to do that anyway because you yanked me in here,” McKay shot back, closing his eyes for a moment after his outburst. He drew in a shuddering breath and continued, “I want to be able to see what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing to see.  We’re in a little hole,” Sheppard responded.

“With hardly any air,” McKay added.  His eyes darted about.  “How much air do you figure we have in here?  It's really tight in here.  Have I ever mention I have a ... tiny bit of... claustrophobia...”

Trying to divert the conversation, Sheppard responded, “I’m going to get you moved back a bit.  Let me do the work, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” McKay responded, his eyes still searching.

Getting started, John pulled the hood away from McKay’s head to get it out of the way.  He grimaced, seeing the dark stain across the back of the otherwise blue fleece cap.  The inside of the white hood was spotted with red.  Damn it…  He balled up the hood and shoved it into his pocket.  Should he take off the hat, see what he could do for the wound under it?  Damn it!  He had nothing to form a bandage.  The tight fitting cap seemed to be doing the job for now.  With a grimace, he decided to leave it alone -- keep an eye on things and ensure the bleeding didn't get worse.

“Ready?” Sheppard asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sheppard took a moment to swipe the snow out of the way, getting down to the rock bottom of the depression.  Then, he leaned Rodney back and worked to move him as smoothly as possible.  As he manipulated McKay’s legs, getting them out of the hole and moving them into a better position, Rodney watched him – saying nothing.  Finally, John had him edged back those few inches and turned, his back was against the rocky wall.  

“Better?” John asked, brushing at the snow that coated the physicist’s legs.

Rodney’s gaze followed the movements, his face pale.  “I still can’t feel anything,” he said softly.  “Guess it won’t matter now.  I mean, if the cold doesn’t get us, we’ll run out of oxygen soon enough.  Is it getting smaller in here?  The walls aren't moving, are they?”

"Nothing's moving, McKay."  Sheppard sighed and pulled the balled up hood from his pocket, to use it as a cushion for Rodney’s head.  He hoped McKay wasn’t too badly hurt – yeah, he thought, define ‘badly.’

John sat beside the Canadian in the cramped space, hip to hip.  “Actually, I’m not so cold now,” he declared as he pulled off his gloves and started to rub at McKay’s legs – first one, then the other.

“What are you doing?” McKay asked, watching the movements.

Sheppard continued the work, vigorously rubbing.  “Just trying to make sure you still have blood moving,” he said lightly as he faced the man.

“Oh,” McKay responded, watching with eyes that seemed unusually blue.

“Figure this is what it’s like in an igloo, huh?  Always thought Eskimos were freezing their butts off inside those things, but it’s warming up a little.”

“Warm… yeah… warm,” McKay muttered, finally taking his gaze off of Sheppard’s work to blow on his hands.  He moved his fingers with a doleful expression.  Finally, he shoved his hands under his armpits.  “How much air do you think we have?”

“Plenty,” Sheppard responded.

"Nothing's moving, is it?" McKay asked uncomfortably as he eyed the closed in space.  "I mean the walls... they seem to be..."

"It's all in your banged up head."  Sitting back, John hoped he’d managed to accomplish something for Rodney.  He knew that skin-to-skin contact was the best way to heat up someone suffering from hypothermia, but he hoped it didn’t come to that.  The red parka really did seem to be doing its job and he didn’t want to try removing it just yet.  “You want these back?” he asked, holding up the gloves.

McKay shook his head, wincing again at the movement.

“Keep still,” Sheppard said softly.  He pulled his jacket off next, and wrapped it around both Rodney’s legs and his own.  He tried not to gasp as the cold caught him.  There was no breeze here, and it was decidedly less frigid than ‘outdoors’, but it was hardly warm.

McKay watched his movements with a disconnected expression.  “What good will that do?” he asked softly.  “I’m not feeling anything and you’re going to freeze.”

“Ah, I’m not cold,” Sheppard responded.  “I don’t get cold.  I can be in a room full of people who are bitching about how cold they are, and I’ll be toasty warm,” he stated, trying not to let his teeth chatter.  “I’m feeling better already.  And, hell, I’m just covering my own ass,” he said, cocking his head.  “Well, not literally.” He worked more of the snow out from under them, hoping it would help their situation. “Beckett will have one less reason to skin me alive if I at least try to keep you warm.”

Keeping his gaze on his covered legs, Rodney rested, looking lost.

“They’re going to get us out,” Sheppard said, grabbing his radio and fiddling with it.  “Ford is going to get these morons in gear.  Teyla’s going to get help from Atlantis.”

“When?” McKay responded, shuddering.  “Because we’re about an hour from the Gate.  It’ll take that long for someone to get back to her to tell her what happened.  And then she needs to dial Atlantis. And someone’s going to have to approve a rescue mission.  We probably have to wait at least an hour, and a half and by that time, we’ll certainly suffocate, or freeze, or I’ll just have seizure and die from my injuries.”

“You’re just full of daffodils and sunshine, aren’t you?’ Sheppard stated tersely.

“Humph,” McKay responded, tightened his arms over his chest and nestling his head into the cushion.

Sheppard tried the radio, not receiving a response.  He groaned as he listened to static.

“It won’t work,” McKay stated, looking at him through hooded eyes.  “The geology has remarkable magnetic properties.  We won’t be able to contact anyone, especially with us so close to…” and he withdrew one hand from his armpit to gesture to the rock wall.

“So, what do we do?” Sheppard asked, holding out his radio.  “I mean, you’re not going to let that stop us.”

McKay glared at him a moment, then dropped his glance to the radio.

“Come on, Answer Man,” Sheppard encouraged.  “You love a challenge.”

McKay stared at the device for a long moment, then his face seemed to grow longer, his expression changing, becoming softer as his mind worked.

Sheppard smiled, loving that expression.

Suddenly, McKay reached out one arm, snatching Sheppard’s radio  “I need my radio, too. I think it fell inside my coat.  And the scanner.  It’s in my pocket, can you grab it for me?  And my tools.  They’re in there, too.”  He smiled arrogantly as he held the radio.  “Just give me a minute,” he declared.

Sheppard sat back, grinning.


CHAPTER  20:  NOTHING and SOMETHING

“How did you know?” Ford called to the jumper as it landed, its the rear hatch opening.

Teyla came down the hatchway, adjusting her hood against the bitter blast.  “What was I supposed to know?”

“The avalanche!” Ford returned, gesturing toward the hill of snow.  “The Major and Doctor McKay are in there somewhere!”

Teyla regarded the scene with a furrowed brow.  “Avalanche,” she repeated the word.  “I am unfamiliar with the term.”

“You didn’t know about all this snow coming down?”

Teyla, unaware of what the area looked like previously, could only shake her head.

“So, how did you know to come?” Ford asked, coming to a halt before her.

“I saw the creatures,” she said, turning an unhappy eye on the slinking itnas.  “And realized that we had best remove Dr. McKay from the situation.  He would be… most uncomfortable in their presence.”  She fixed Aiden with a guilty look and added, “I had been unable to help him when he encountered the creatures previously and…” she paused, searching Ford for reproach.  “I didn’t want to fail him again.”

Ford nodded, accepting the response.

“When he realized that these were the same type of creatures,” Teyla went on.  “He would want to leave.  I wanted to provide him the ability to do so.”

“I’m sure glad you did,” Ford declared as he strode into the back of the jumper, looking for anything that could help them.  “Tried to reach you on radio as you landed,” he stated.

Teyla nodded.  “The communication system does not work in this area.”

Ford understood – his own radio still crackled softly in his ear.

“Lieutenant?”  Stackhouse questioned.  “They’re under that?”  He nodded to the mounds of snow as he tugged on his snow gear.

“Yeah, somewhere,” Ford responded, then looked eagerly at Markham.  “Life signs!”

“I’m on it,” the pilot responded, turning to the screen and pulling up the HUD.  He frowned.  “Not picking up anything outside, sir.  Hang on.”   He turned, and found the hand-held device waiting for him.  He held it and frowned.  “It’s picking up us,” he stated, and narrowed his eyes at the Ekukians that had been crowding close to the ship.  “But still nothing outside the jumper, sir,” he added.

Ford grimaced.  “Stackhouse, can you reach them on the jumper’s radio?  I’m getting nothing.”  He watched as Stackhouse tried at the communication system, and Markham made his way down the ramp, holding the detector in front of him.

The Ekukians looked on with round mouths, slinking back as the newcomers arrived.  Markham kept moving, sweeping the device back and forth. “I’m not picking up anything now -- not even me,” he stated.  “Something about this place is making it go haywire.”

Stackhouse worked at the jumper’s radio.  Ford rooted through the supplies, listening to Stackhouse’s attempt to contact the others.  Markham tried to scan, and Teyla remained at the doorway.  The cold wind blew into the craft and they all shuddered against it.  The Ekukian’s huddled like rabbits.

“Nothing, sir,” Stackhouse said again, making adjustments.  “Nothing.”

Markham nodded and echoed Stackhouse.  “I’m getting nothing.”

Ford pulled out emergency shovels but knew their work would be in vain unless they could pinpoint the location of their men.  “Something,” Ford whispered.  “There’s got to be something.”

With a sigh, Stackhouse stood, shrugging apologetically, and then hugging his arms to himself.  “What do we do?” he asked.

Undaunted, Ford turned and strode out of the ship, clutching one simple shovel.  The pile of snow looked insurmountable.  Maybe if they had everyone digging at the same time, they could luck out and uncover their people.  But there had to be a better way.

He came alongside Markham, and the pilot finally pocketed the Life Sign Detector.  “No good,” the pilot uttered.

“Do you think you could vaporize the snow with the weapons?” Ford asked in a low voice.

Markham whistled lowly, and crunched in the snow.  “Maybe,” he replied.  “I mean, I could blast it, but if we don’t know where Major Sheppard and Doctor McKay are…” his voice drew out as he considered it.   “… I might fry them.” He furrowed his brow.  “I wouldn’t want to chance it unless we knew where they were.”

Time was wasting, Ford knew it.  Somewhere, under this mess, McKay and Sheppard were trapped.  What do I do? Aiden thought.  

Wishing the answer could come to him, he stood, with arms folded, letting the cold wind blow against him.  And the worst part was -- he knew that they were… more than likely… too late. How could anyone have survived this?

Ford felt his chest tighten at this thought.  Here he was, free and able to move about and with a puddlejumper and more men at his disposal -- and he was no closer to finding them than he was before.  He let out a breath in misery.

“… just back off, okay?  You’re crowding me.  How am I supposed to work with you right on top of me? I can't move my arms.  I swear…”

The familiar voice crackled in his ear, strong and clear – and so loud that Ford found himself ripping the earpiece from his head.  He spun about, watching as Markham winced and clawed at his hood to get off his own earpiece.

“Doctor McKay!”  Aiden shouted gleefully.  “Doc!”

Another voice came across the transmission “You were the one complaining about freezing to death.  Look, we need to huddle together a bit.”

“You’re in my way.  I can hardly wiggle my elbow… see?”

“Ooof!  God, knock that off!  You’ll give me a black eye.”

“Sir!” Aiden piped up.  “Sir!  I’m hearing you.”

“I was just trying to show you that this isn’t a comfortable way to work.”

“Conserving our body heat, that’s all.”

“I thought you said you didn’t get cold?”

“That was a lie.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t have a coat!  So stop whining.”

“Fine.”

“Move your arm.”

”I need my arms to do this work!”

“Just fix the damn thing!  Get it fixed and you won’t have to be embarrassed about being found in a compromising position.”

“Oh, God, what if we die here and they find us like this?”

“Sir!  Major Sheppard,” Aiden tried again.

“For the love of…”

“Because, I really don’t want to be found canoodling with…”

“McKay!  Can you just test it to see if you can reach anyone?”

“Hang on.  Give me a minute. Oh wait… it’s transmitting right now.”

“Great… Hand it over.”

“Fine… take it.”

“Lt. Ford? Do you copy?  Teyla?”

“Major, can you hear me?  I’m receiving you.  We need to know your exact location.  We have a puddlejumper and want to try blasting away this snow, but we got to know…”

“Lt. Ford?  Do you read me? Teyla?  You sure, McKay?  I’m not getting anything.”

“It’s transmitting at increased power level, ten times the norm. Believe me, if their radios are on, they’re hearing us.  Teyla can receive us back at the compound -- no doubt about that.  Their systems just don’t have the ‘omph’ to respond.  Plus, our signal is probably drowning them out.”

“Well, how much good is this?”

“Well, it’s certainly something.  A lot better than the nothing we had before.  We can send out a message! Let someone know where we are!”

Yes!  Ford thought.  Yes!  He turned to the others.  Teyla and Stackhouse stood at the hatch while Markham drew closer to him.

“And how do we do that?  How the hell do we tell them where we are?”

There was an exasperated sigh.  "Due to the increased power, they would now be able to pick us up on a scanner.”

“Like the one you have patched into this thing right now?”

“Exactly… like the one…  Okay.  Okay, not such a good idea if Lt. Ford and Teyla are the only ones out there.  No scanner, I get it.”

“But if Teyla can read us, she'll send for help…”

“And someone can fly a puddlejumper here…”

“Then they'll have a scanner.”

Ford turned toward Markham.  The pilot pulled the device from his pocket, smiling at the dot that appeared.


CHAPTER 21:  BUS DRIVERS

Sheppard held the device that McKay had cobbled together.  The work had a haphazard look to it – delicate wires ran from one radio to another, seemingly stuck randomly into the scanner.  It looked like junk, but if McKay said he’d increased the transmission power of the device ten-fold, then Sheppard was pretty damn sure they were reaching someone.

“Ford, I know you can’t contact us, but I figure you’re working on something. We’re tucked in a depression under a ledge, against the cliff.  We’re fairly protected for whatever you got planned.   ‘Fraid I couldn’t describe exactly where we are along the cliff.  I’m thinkin’ it looks awful different out there now.  You have to get it in gear, now.”

Glancing to one side, he took in McKay’s appearance.  Now that the radio-work was completed, Rodney had lost whatever spark had found him, and he leaned heavily on the major.  His eyes were closed and he was shivering again.

“Rodney,” he called softly, wiggling a shoulder, hoping for a response.  McKay just sunk further against him.  “Rodney?” he called more urgently, patting him on the head, being careful of the bloody spot on the fleecy hat.

Sheppard spoke into the radio again.  “You have to get us out of here – now.  McKay needs assistance.  He’s not responding to me anymore. I….”

“M’wake,” a voice sounded softly beside him.

Making an annoyed face at being proven wrong, Sheppard amended the last transmission with, “He’s not responding ‘much’.”

“Tell them to hurry,” McKay said quietly, not lifting his head.

“Just hang on a bit longer,” John stated, after he’d muted the mic, but leaving the radio in transmitting mode.  He settled the melded devices on his lap.  “How’re you doing?”

Rodney gave him a languid look.  “Not bad,” he finally responded resignedly.

When Sheppard gave him a baffled look, McKay shrugged.  “Not feeling much anymore.”  He seemed apologetic for his statement.  “It’ll take them hours to dig us out.”

“They’ll get us out,” Sheppard insisted.

“It’ll be too late for me,” McKay said sulkily.

“Well, I’m planning to survive this,” Sheppard snipped back at him.  “So you better keep me awake until then.”

McKay sighed.

“I got no jacket,” Sheppard said, gesturing with a gloved hand – somehow he’d ended up with them again since McKay needed his hands to work, and hadn’t wanted them when he was done.  “And I’m cold as hell.  I don’t want to fall asleep, so you’d better try to keep me awake until they get here.”

His arms tucked up around him, McKay sighed, looking at the white jacket that encircled their legs. The space was all white, John realized -- white and red, with a touch of blue for McKay's hat.

Shivering still, McKay seemed to be thinking of something, maybe even about telling Sheppard to take the jacket back, but his expression remained fixed, and he said nothing.

“Come on, talk to me,” Sheppard demanded.

McKay grimaced, and then said, “I don’t hate dogs.  I’ve liked some.   It’s just that they’re needy and I really don’t have anything to give.  Cats don’t expect much.  We get along better.”

“I don’t like those itnas either.  You got no argument from me with that.  They’re not really dogs, you know.  More like hyenas.”

“Can’t trust dogs,” McKay mumbled.  “Just can’t…They make you think you can trust them, and then they just leave you and …” His head dipped.

“Hey,” Sheppard jerked his shoulder, getting McKay to open his eyes again.  “Hey!  Don't let me fall asleep.  Tell me… what did you want to be when you grew up?”

McKay snorted, so Sheppard went on, “I mean, when you were a kid.  What did you dream of being?  A fireman ... a lumberjack, maybe?”

“Let me guess,” McKay said thickly.  “You wanted to be a pilot.”

“Well, yeah.  But for a while, what I really wanted to be was a bus driver!” Sheppard said brightly, huddling close to McKay. “I remember riding the school bus – I must have been in the first grade – watching the man drive that big ol’ thing – Mr. Johnston!  I thought that must have been the coolest job.  There he was, driving the biggest vehicle on the street, with that huge steering wheel and that lever thing that opened the door.  He’d stick out that stop sign thing and all the traffic came to a halt.  He was in charge.  It seemed like real power to me.”

“A bus driver?  Just a bus driver?”

“'Just'?  How can you say, 'just’?  He was driving!  And you know, I didn’t want to be just any bus driver.  I wanted to be… the Head of the Bus Drivers!”

Rodney snickered quietly.

“Sometimes, he drove with a doughnut in one hand.  I liked doughnuts,” John went on.

“Hard not to,” Rodney agreed.

“Don’t know why I was fascinated with his job.  Maybe I realized, even as a kid, that he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders.  I thought he was cool.”  He gave McKay a sideways glance as he added, “But I did eat paste back then, so my judgment may have been impaired.”  He waited for a jibe in response.

Instead, McKay said quietly, “I never rode the school bus.”

“Don’t they have them in Canada?” Sheppard returned.

“Of course they have school busses in Canada,” Rodney sniped.  “What do you think we have there?  Dog sleds and igloos.”  And he narrowed his eyes at their icy surroundings.

“Pretty much – that and Mounties.  You got beavers and moose and lots of trees, too, dontcha ya, eh?”

McKay grumbled.

“And everyone’s so polite.”

“Bite me,” McKay snapped back.

“Have I ever told you that a moose once bit my sister?” Sheppard asked.  For that he got a soft chuckle from his friend, who just stared forward.  John expected a further response, but after not receiving one, he continued, “So, you never rode the bus?”

Rodney shrugged, his shoulder digging into John.  Trying to get comfortable, Sheppard pulled his arm out from between them and draped it over McKay’s shoulder.

Rodney gave him a look, and sighed again.  “I attended advanced classes at a school for gifted children.  Mother drove me.  It was a long, inconvenient drive, okay? Everyone else in the neighborhood rode the bus.”  He let out a breath.  “And I used to be so envious of them – not stuck in that car.”  He took another deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong.  I belonged in the advanced schools – but sometimes I just wanted…” He paused.

Sheppard thought he heard something, a high whine, muffled in the snow.  He listened to it as McKay said nothing more, just shivering beside him.  The sound was intense, and he couldn’t quite place what caused it.  Realizing that the conversation had stopped, John asked, “You just wanted to be like everyone else?”

“No,” was McKay’s response after a moment.  “When you have a mind as able as mine, how could I possibly demean myself to the level of normal students?  It would have been a travesty if I were to be treated ‘just like everyone else’.”  His voice became weaker, as he added, “It would have been a waste.”

“But sometimes,” Sheppard stated.  “It might have been nice.”

Whispering, McKay stated, "But I had a responsibility, to take advantage of my gift."  He went on, his words coming with difficulty,  “You asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up?  I had two dreams. One – a pianist.”  He shrugged again.  “But that was ridiculous.  The other – what I truly wanted to be?  Can you guess?”

“Not the Head of the Bus Drivers?” Sheppard tried gamely.

“I wanted to be an astrophysicist.”  McKay laughed softly – hardly more than a ‘huff’.  “Even as a child, science and mathematics sparked something in me.”  He drew in another deep breath as he continued to shiver.  “I knew my path as soon as I found out about the wonders of – physics.  I patterned my entire academic career to be exactly what I am now.”  He tightened his arms around his chest.

“What was it about physics that drew you?”

Closing his eyes, Rodney furrowed his brow.  “I wanted to do something big.  To… change the world -- to change worlds – for the better of course.  I wanted to make it – better.” His words were becoming slurred.

“That’s a mighty big bus,” Sheppard said.  

"I've always loved the stars," Rodney whispered.

"Yeah?  Me, too," Sheppard respond, and they were quiet a moment.  Finally, Sheppard asked, “So… you ever play the piano?”

“Didn’t work out,” Rodney returned softly, his voice quiet.  “I knew my path and I followed it to this point in my life.”  The corners of his mouth turned down as his gaze continued to focus on the white wall.  “And this is how it ends.”

The whine seemed to be louder.  “Hang on,” Sheppard stated, distracted by the sound.

“It’s been nice …” Rodney’s voice drifted to almost nothing, becoming fuzzy and nearly unintelligible.  “It’s been nice knowing…”

“Shhh!” The sound was so strange – yet so familiar.  Sheppard clicked off the light on the P90, leaving them in that soft blue light again – but the light had changed, hadn’t it?  It had been so faint earlier – so faint they could barely see.  Now, he could easily make out everything in their space.  “Hang on,” Sheppard said again, smiling.  “They’re coming.  They’re getting us out.  Hey, Rodney…”

Beside him, Rodney blinked his eyes wearily, then rested his head against John's shoulder.  His eyes closed, and he said nothing more.


CHAPTER  22: GETTING IN

Markham had been firing into the mass of fallen snow, trying to clear out the bulk of what lay near the cliff – and at the same time being careful of melting too much, too fast.  He didn’t want to drown the major or the doctor in the runoff.

Mostly, the snow had vaporized under attack by the ‘blaster’.  He wasn’t sure what to call that particular weapon.  He’d simply wished up a beam that gave off a lot of heat – and that’s what the puddlejumper provided him with.  It was pretty damn insightful, he decided, and he felt a certain amount of pride in his ability to make this work.

There’d be a bright flash – and a red beam drove into the snow – followed by a tremendous cloud and a hiss.   Ford, Teyla and Stackhouse had already dropped their hats and gloves, unbuttoned their jackets and were sweating from the blasts of heat that were coming from the process.  He was creating quite a sauna.  Markham felt a little bad for them -- but was glad it was them, and not him.

The radio crackled to life again.  “I think you’re almost to us,”  the major declared.  “We’re in a bit of a depression, under a ledge. I can see daylight through the snow.”

“Markham!” Ford shouted from his position outside of the craft.  “Get that scanner out here.”

The sergeant scrambled to follow, getting out of the pilot’s seat and holding the device in front of him.  He walked immediately through the channel he’d dug, zeroing in on the dot until he reached a wall of ice that encased the cliff. “Should be here,” he stated.

Ford nodded at this news, then cupped his hands around his mouth to shout,  “Major Sheppard!  Dr. McKay!”  His voice held a raspy quality to it, and Markham wondered if it would penetrate through to where their people were trapped.

Markham kept the scanner out, watching the dot.  They were still several feet away.  He glanced back at the jumper and wondered if he should try carving out any further snow with the blaster – but thought better of it.  Now, so close, even with his delicate touch, he might end up singeing some parts off of Sheppard and McKay.

“Major Sheppard!” Ford called again, leaning toward the snow that kept them from his teammates.

Suddenly, over the radio, a voice stated, “I can hear you, Ford. You’re just about on top of us."

Ford dropped to his knees, and thumped at the surface with his fist.

“I sure hope that’s you, Lieutenant,” a voice sounded in his ear, and Ford grinned in relief.  “Don’t want to deal with any salespeople at my door right now.”

Grinning, Ford shouted at the ice, "It's us, sir!"

"Get us out of here, now!  McKay has a head wound.  He's stopped responding.”  There was a pause as if Sheppard expected something.  "Why can't you prove me wrong?" they heard Sheppard curse under his breath, and then in a raised voice.  "Hurry it up!"

Ford nodded.  “Let’s do it.”

Behind them, Stackhouse handed out the shovels, and all three men lifted the tools at once, bringing them down with a bone-jarring rattle, as the shovels clattered upon the rock-hard ice.

“Aw hell,” Markham muttered, raising the shovel and again to bring it down with greater force.  The shiny, ice crusted surface easily deflected the assault.   Now, all the pride he’d felt in melting away the snow had fallen into frustration.  The vaporization of the snow had also created a thick layer of ice – hard as stone.

“What’s going on?” Sheppard asked over the radio.  “I can hear you making a racket up there.”

“Sir,” Ford shouted, hoping his voice carried through.  “We’ve got a problem.”

It was then that Karluk appeared beside them, toting ice axes. “This should work better,” he explained.

And they went to work.  Every inch gained was hard earned – and they chipped and chopped – forcing their way through the ice.

Too caught up with the task, Ford didn’t realize his danger until it was too late.  He was whaling away at the ice, swinging the axe with all his might, when suddenly the ice gave way beneath him.  Markham lurched, diving to grab Aiden’s legs, as Stackhouse jerked forward, catching hold of Ford before he disappeared into the hole.

For a second, they were all in motion, sliding on the slick surface.  Stackhouse managed to stop Ford, but Markham kept moving toward taking a header into the hole.  Jabbing out with the axe, he drove it into the ice around them, and hung on  for all he was worth.  Ford tenaciously grabbed his sleeve.

Gasping in surprise, Markham stared upside-down at the little space in-between the snow and the stone. He drew in a breath, trying to calm his surprise, and stared down at Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay. 

Their missing men were crammed into that spot, just below his head, Sheppard had his arm around McKay, who didn’t lift his head from the major’s shoulder.  Sheppard grinned up at them as he brushed chunks of ice from Rodney.

“Markham,” Sheppard greeted.  “Ford, Stackhouse.  You sure know how to make an entrance.”

CHAPTER 23: GETTING OUT

Sheppard watched as the ice was quickly chipped away, as the hole above their head opened.  “See,” he said softly.  “I told you.”  But McKay didn’t respond and Sheppard was afraid to shake him.  Stackhouse had tossed down emergency blankets -- and Sheppard had quickly worked the sheets around them, striving to capture any remaining warmth.

“It’ll be just a few minutes and we’ll get you out of here.  Just got to hold on a bit longer.  You’d better start waking up.  I told you that I don’t want to have to do all the work getting you out of here.”

But Rodney’s face was still.  His breathing seemed shallow and slow.  Sheppard adjusted the hat, glad to see that no further blood had appeared, but troubled just the same.

“Damn it, Rodney.”  As the hole continued to open above them, showering them with bits of ice, Sheppard worked off one of his gloves, and shoved his hand into the area around Rodney’s neck.  His hands, warm from the gloves, felt the chill of McKay’s skin and sought out the heartbeat – finding it.  He frowned when no complaint was registered for the mauling.

John wished he could tell if the pulse was too fast – or too slow – but he was glad that he could at least feel that steady beat.  The blankets crinkled as he withdrew his hand.  “We’re getting you out,” he promised softly.  "Stay with me."

“Hey,” Ford greeted once the hole had been sufficiently enlarged.  He dropped down, finding barely enough room to crouch.  “How’s he doing?” he asked earnestly.

“He’s cold.”  Sheppard sighed.  "Still can’t feel his legs.  He whacked his head pretty good.”  And most reluctantly of all, he added, “I haven’t been able to wake him up again.”

Markham arrived with a backboard from the jumper.  Sheppard helped where he could with strapping McKay in place.  Getting Rodney out of the space with no unnecessary movements wasn’t easy. There'd been discussion as to whether they should send for Beckett, but time was wasting and the planet was damn cold.  In the end, they just had to trust that what they were doing was right.

Once McKay was pulled from the snowy hole, Sheppard followed, stiffly.  He stepped clear, staggering for a moment as he put weight on his knee and tugging on his jacket.  As the cold blasted him, he shuddered and tugged his collar up against his neck.  He watched as Stackhouse, Markham, Teyla and Ford delicately lifted the backboard, keeping McKay as even as possible.  Rodney, for his part, didn’t move at all.

But they were out – finally out of that tomb.

Teyla had retrieved blankets, giving one to Sheppard as the other covered McKay.  John he tugged it over his shoulders as the cold wind bit into him.  He realized that he hadn’t been lying to McKay.  It had been sufficiently warmer inside that hole – out of the wind and warmed by their own body heat – the hole had been paradise compared to this climate.

This planet was too damn cold -- too frozen, too white.  Looking about, Sheppard scowled at the icy surroundings.  It really wasn’t a wonderland at all, he decided.  It was just one hellacious cold place.

He glanced around at the mounds of fallen snow – the avalanche that had come down.  Through the middle of it, a channel had been carved.   Sheppard knew that they would have been under all of this.  It’d been damn close, Sheppard realized -- too damn close.

Cold.  Bitter cold.  Too much snow.  So white it nearly blinded him.  He’d had enough of it.  It was time to get out of it.

He regarded the others, heading toward the jumper.  He watched how carefully they carried Rodney, how Teyla paused to ensure that the blankets remained firmly cocooning the man, doing what she could to keep him from the biting chill.  He was damn grateful for them.

Careful of his knee, John made his way through the snow after them, ready to leave the place behind.


CHAPTER  24:  TRADE NEGOTIATIONS

Sheppard sat on one of the infirmary beds with his back pressed against the ‘headboard’.  His legs were stretched in front of him.  Cradled in his hand – a mug of hot, sickeningly-sweet liquid.  The stuff, he was certain, was melting his teeth.  He sat with heating pads at strategic positions, and wrapped in warmed blankets, still unable to beat that awful frozen feeling.

“You haven’t suffered any frostbite, Major,” Beckett had declared.  “You’ll just need a bit of a warm up, and you’ll be fine.  And keep off that leg.”  He gave Sheppard an unhappy look.  “Would like you to take better care of yourself.  What were you thinkin’, walkin’ when your knee was in that shape and goin' without a coat?”

With a shrug, Sheppard stated, “Tryin’ to save our lives.”

Beckett nodded, knowingly.  “I’d send you to your quarters like the rest of your team, but…”

Sheppard had promised to be good, to obey any orders and stay in bed if he could remain in the infirmary.  Beckett gave in without much fuss.  It had been hard enough to force Ford and Teyla to leave, and the CMO knew where to fight his battles.

“And, the ice pack, Major,” Beckett had said tiredly, again offering the item.

Sheppard shook his head sharply.  “No way in hell you’re gettin’ near me with that,” he declared hotly.  “I’ve had my fill of ice for a while.”

With a sigh, Beckett had responded, “We’ll see.”

The major had watched as the doctors worked over Rodney.  He’d been trussed up to keep him still.  John had felt a little sad to see the clothing cut from the man – down and feathers went everywhere as the red jacket was destroyed, and then the Maple Leafs sweater under it.  Won’t be able to replace them – Sheppard realized sadly.  Nothing else like them in the Pegasus Galaxy.  Sorry, McKay.  I think I’ll miss them.

Rodney never stirred – distressing Beckett, Sheppard and everyone else.

The physicist was a horrible mottle of blacks, blues and reds. He still bore the scars from the devil dogs from months ago – unpleasant looking scars over his shoulder and chest.  No, Sheppard couldn't fault the man for hating those itnas -- for needing to get away from them.  The major closed his eyes, remembering that island, remembering what he had to do to save them all -- what he had to do to McKay in order to save the Canadian.

Damn, he thought.  I hated that.

A nasty cut marred McKay’s bruised head.  The area had been shaven, stitched and wrapped.  He was taken away for x-rays, scans and other tests.   Then the astrophysicist was brought back, strapped in place with a series of heating pads, blankets and an IV with a fluid warmer.

That done, Beckett returned to Sheppard.  He sat on the foot of the bed, and explained,  “Surprisingly, he doesn’t have any frostbite, either. Amazing really.  He has a concussion and is suffering from hypothermia,” Beckett told him.  “But you managed to keep that from getting as bad as it could have.  If I can get his temperature up a bit, I’d be a wee bit happier.”

“What about his back?”  Sheppard asked over the top of his cup.

“There’s no tellin’ at this moment.”

“I moved him,” Sheppard said softly, changing his gaze to take in the Canadian.  Rodney’s head was wrapped in bandages, a collar to keep his neck still.  It looked strange after seeing him with that blue fleece cap with the ridiculous earflaps for so long.  “I should've kept him from moving, but I yanked him pretty hard.”

“Lad, you know it was the right thing to do.  Either that or be crushed by all that snow.”  The doctor gave him an encouraging look.  “I wasn’t able to find anything broken, and there’s a great deal of bruising and swelling around his spine,” he explained.  “He’s yet to show any signs of waking.  When he comes around, and if his mind is working and if we’re able to reduce the swelling and get him warmed up proper, he should get some feelin’ again.”

“All that?"

"Could be any one of them giving him the trouble."

"Will he walk again?”

“I can’t say,” Beckett responded.  “The X-rays don’t reveal everything, I’m afraid.  There may be damage we can’t easily see.  Depending on what’s gone wrong....”  and he let his sentence trail off, not wanting to continue.

Carson went on to explain about medications, test results, X-rays, treatments and such like that, but the long and the short of it was – he had nothing really to say.  McKay’s legs weren’t reacting to stimuli.  There was no knowing if he’d ever be able to move them again – no knowing if he would be able to walk.

Damn Ekukians! Sheppard thought.  If they’d only managed to control their freak dogs!  If those people had never been stuck on that paradise island with their untamed animals!  He wished he’d known sooner – wished he’d recognized the animals in the tapestry, figured it out quicker. He might have been able to get Rodney calmed down, get between him and the wilding creatures.  He wished he hadn’t just gotten annoyed with McKay -- yelling at him to knock it off.  He wished he’d understood back then. 

Should have done something, he thought.  Wish I’d known.

“He might never walk again,” Beckett had tried to tell him, stopping.  “We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.  No sense in thinkin’ only the worst.”

“Yeah,” Sheppard responded, staring at the stuff in his cup.  He sipped at it again, as Beckett sat on his bed and gazed toward Rodney.  Finally, John asked, “Couldn’t you get me some coffee? Tea even?”

“Now, what did you tell me earlier, Major? I’m allowin’ you to stay only if you keep yourself quiet and do as I tell you.  You’re suffering from the cold, too, and caffeine isn’t what you need right now. You need something hot and packed with calories.  This’ll be better for you.  That, and an ice pack.”

Sheppard growled, and Beckett held up his hands in surrender.  Tired, John scowled at the mug, and took another sip.  “Wish you could tell me more,” he finally stated.

“I wish I could, too.”  His voice low, Beckett said, “But no matter what happens, we’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of him,” Sheppard corrected the wording.

“Aye, we’ll take care of him, no matter what comes of it.”

Quirking his mouth into a half smile, Sheppard accepted this fact – whether or not he really wanted to face the possibilities of it.  Yeah, they’d manage, somehow.  McKay would persevere as he always did – but at what cost?

The weariness of the adventure had caught up to him.  He settled the half-emptied mug on the bedside table.  “Gonna stretch out for a bit,” Sheppard told the Scot.

“Aye,” Beckett returned as he stood to give the man more room.  “I was wonderin’ when you would.”

“I’m not going to sleep,” Sheppard told him.  “I plan to stay awake until you have something to tell me that’s worth hearing.”

“Aye, lad,” Beckett stated, nodding and rubbing a hand through his hair.  “You do that.”  He picked up the mug as Sheppard stretched out, reorganizing his heating pads, being careful his aching knee. 

Beckett sigh, and stated, “I could get you that ice pack now.”

“No way in hell!” Sheppard snapped.  “Just going to shut my eyes for a bit.”

“I’ll keep a watch on things.  Don’t you worry,” Beckett told him as he wandered away.

Sheppard blinked and Ford suddenly appeared at his side.  “Hey, Major,” he declared.  “Welcome back.”

Furrowing his brow, Sheppard coughed and pressed himself upright.  “What…?” he tried to ask, still feeling bleary.

“Major,” he heard Teyla voice.  “It is good to see you awake.”  She stood up from her chair on the far side of Rodney’s bed.

“Ah, he’s up, is he?” Beckett declared from a few beds over.  He was checking on Sgt. Tanner, who looked annoyed at being held up in the infirmary.  He was sitting on the edge of one of the beds while Beckett adjusted a sling.

“I gotta get goin’,” the Texan drawled.  “I’m late for an important meetin’.”

Beckett smiled knowingly.  “So, you have another poker game goin’ in the jumper hangar?”

Tanner gave the doctor a grin in response.

“Well, I guess that can’t be kept waitin’.  You already have someone come to fetch you.”  And Beckett nodded toward the figure that was waiting rather impatiently in the doorway to the waiting room.

“There you go, son," Beckett told him.  "Off with you.”

And Tanner had hopped off the bed with a quick, “Thanks, doc.”  He paused long enough to nod to his CO.  He caught up with his companion.  The other man gave the sergeant a slug in the arm and managed to get away before Tanner could apply any retribution.  Long-sufferingly, the Texan could only try to catch up, clutching his aching arm to his chest.

Funny, Sheppard didn’t remember Tanner being here earlier – or Kavanagh for that matter.  The engineer was sitting up in bed, looking annoyed as hell – his eyes swollen and black -- a bandage around the bridge of his nose.   Beckett nodded as he walked by the tall scientist’s bed.  “Don’t worry, lad,” he said before Kavanagh could speak.  “You’ll be out of here and messin’ with your experiments in no time.  Just want to be sure you’re seeing straight before I release you.”

“I was right in the middle of a very important experiment,” Kavanagh declared -- his tone had an added nasal quality to it.  It made him sound rather like a duck.  “If I don’t get back to it, someone’s going to mess it up.  No one understands it but me.” And a conceited duck at that!

“It was that experiment that put you here,” Beckett reminded him.  “Shouldn’t ‘a been messin’ about with things such as that with no one around to keep track of you.”

“So I passed out and smacked my head on the counter,” Kavanagh muttered.  “I wasn’t counting on the fumes.  Sgt. Tanner found me right when it happened.” He glanced toward Sheppard and stated, “It’s not my fault that he wrenched his shoulder getting me here!”  He turned his attention back to Beckett and stated,  “He’s gone, so let me go, too.”

“Patience, patience,” Beckett declared, sounding like the most patient man in the world.  He smiled when he reached Sheppard.  “Feelin’ better now, are we?”

Groaning, John rubbed his knee, annoyed to find that it was strangely cold.  Someone had slipped an ice pack in on him!  He glared around the room, looking for the guilty party.   “How long have I been out?” he asked, frustrated at not finding a culprit.

“You slept through the night and then some,” Beckett responded.

“We are glad you were able to get some rest,” Teyla added, smiling reassuringly.

“Yeah, you were looking pretty tired, sir,” Ford added.

“He wasn’t the only one,” Beckett put in, glancing from Teyla to Ford.  “I think we all needed a night of it.”

“McKay,” John breathed out, then licked at his teeth uncomfortably, not wanting to think about the funk he had going on in there.

Beckett nodded to the bed beside the major.  “He’s sleepin’ still.”   He gave Sheppard a soft smile before he moved toward the other bed.  Rodney had been freed of the restraints that had held him earlier – looked a hell of a lot more comfortable if nothing else.

Carson pulled the coverlet back, exposing Rodney’s feet.  Taking a pen from his pocket, he ran the back of it along the bare soles.  Reflexively, the foot twitched.

Sheppard returned Becket’s smile, glad as all hell.

“What?” a voice sounded softly.  “What the… I…” And the foot tried to scrunch up and retract from Beckett’s administration.

“Rodney,” Beckett’s called, surprised.  He quickly changed positions, to get in alongside the bed.  “Rodney, do you know where you are?”

The physicist squinted up at the head surgeon.  “Carson,” he identified softly.  Glancing around the room, he found Teyla and Ford leaning over him, and finally he looked to one side and spotted Sheppard sitting up in his bed.  “Infirmary,” he muttered.  “Guess we made it back.”

“That you did,” Beckett returned, seeming pleased as punch to hear Rodney's annoyed response.

“Doctor McKay!”  Ford called brightly.  Teyla smiled serenely when the Canadian looked at her.

“McKay,” Sheppard added, and gave the man a nod when their eyes met.

“How you feelin’, lad?” Beckett asked earnestly.

Rodney fumbled with the blankets, trying to get out of them and escape the heating packs.  “It’s rather hot in here,” he complained.  “I don’t do well in the high temperatures.  I tend to get overheated and get all sweaty and…” He paused, thought a moment, and then smiled crookedly.  “Hot… it’s rather nice to be hot.”  His smile increased.   “I thought I’d never be warm again.”

Sheppard nodded.  “Gotta say, I’m liking it, too!  Just as long as no one is slipping any ice packs in on me.”  He flashed a glare around the room.  Nobody flinched – damn them!  “It’s much better here than snuggling in a snow cave.”

With a beleaguered sigh, Beckett stated, “I should hope so.”

The major glanced toward Teyla and Ford, adding quickly, “Not that we did a whole lot of ‘snuggling’ or anything like that.  It was more like 'huddling'. We were trying to conserve heat.”

McKay glanced toward Sheppard and gave him a grin that dropped into panicked expression as he remembered.  Hands reached toward his legs, and he winced pathetically as every bruise made its presence known. “Ow,” he moaned.  “Ow…seriously… Ow….”

“Hang on there, Rodney.  Stop tryin’ to move around like an ass,” Beckett stated, as he pressed a hand to McKay’s chest to shove him back into place.

“My legs,” Rodney cried.  “I need to know if I can…” and he stopped as he looked down to his exposed feet, watching the toes clench and unclench.  He smiled, stupidly, as he managed to move his feet back and forth.  “I can move!” he declared, delightedly.  “Not as much as I’d like.  And… ow… not as easily.”  He stopped his gyrations, and seemed happy just to watch his toes dance.

Becket smiled, glad to see Rodney’s gleeful expression.  “It’ll get better, Rodney,” he promised.  “You’re over the first hurdle.”

“So… this means I’ll be able to walk again?”  Rodney asked quickly.

“Well, I’d like to run some further tests now that you’re awake, but by the looks of things, I’d say, ‘yes’,” Beckett responded.

“What about physical therapy?  Will I have to do any of that?  Because…” And McKay’s hands fluttered around in his nervousness.

“We’ll see,” Beckett responded lightly.  “If all goes well, you might be on your feet in a day or two.”

McKay’s smile increased.  “Ah good!  Good.  I really don’t care much for physical therapy.  Too much repetition and too much touching.  So much of it is pure sadism.  I swear, therapists just want to see their patients in pain most of the time.”

“We’ll see,” Beckett replied, his voice a little lower.

But McKay was looking around the room, looking pleased as punch.  As he moved his head, suddenly he winced.  “Ow…”

Beckett sighed.  “How’s the head?”

“Hurts!” Rodney declared through clenched teeth.  “You got a Tylenol or something?”  Becket sighed and nodded.

“It’s real good to see you awake, Doc,” Ford put in.  “And to see you moving.  You had us scared for a while.”

“Scared, really?” Rodney looked over at Sheppard, who shrugged.

“Figured you’d be easier to deal with if you could get around on your own,” the major responded slyly.  “I mean, I don’t think any of us would have wanted to push you in a wheelchair for too long – having to take commands.”

“Hmm,” McKay replied.

“We are very glad that you are well,” Teyla told him.

“She brought the cavalry,” Sheppard explained. “She figured you’d be needing a ride out of there and returned to Atlantis.  Dialed home and got Weir to agree.”

“Really?” McKay questioned.  “But how’d she know?” He turned slowly to face the Athosian, wincing at the movement.  “You knew?  How?  Some sort of psychic thing?”  And he twiddled his fingers by his ear, frowning when he realized his head had been bandaged.

“I felt as if something was wrong,” Teyla admitted, not quite sure what she’d felt that had awakened her. 

“You were sick,” Rodney recalled.

“I am better now,” Teyla responded.

“So you just got up and decided to go for help?  Why would Dr. Weir agree to sending a puddlejumper out on a whim?”

With a forgiving smile, she added, “And I saw the animals, the itnas.”

“Oh,” Rodney responded.  He looked abashed, and asked, “So you went back to Atlantis to get help because of the devil dogs?  Because you thought I’d be scared of them?”

“Yes,” Teyla responded honestly.  She leaned over the bed, gently grasping one of Rodney’s hands.  “I knew you would be most uncomfortable in their presence, that it would be best if you were to return – with me – to Atlantis.”

“With you?” Rodney tried, not understanding.

“I do not like them either,” Teyla admitted.  “They… unnerve me.”

Rodney stared at her, not able to tell if she were joshing him or not.  Was she passing off a lie to make him feel less childish?  She looked sincere.

“He says, ‘thank you’,” Sheppard said, smirking at Rodney’s confused expression.  “I’m pretty darn thankful you showed up when you did, otherwise we’d be just a couple of popsicles.”

“Popsicles?” Teyla tried the word.  “Is that anything like the motorcycle you were telling me about?”

“Not a bit,” McKay responded with a snitty voice.

“Well,” Sheppard negotiated, “They’re both cool.

McKay rolled his eyes, trying to cross his arms over his chest, but was flummoxed by the IV line.  “Can I get rid of this?” he called to Carson.

The doctor shook his head.  “Not as of yet,” he responded.  “You behave yourself and we’ll see about it.  You’re going to be in bed for a while.  Might as well take in all the advantages of your stay.”  And he gestured to the IV as if it were a good thing.

Rodney scowled and, looking down, spotting something on the floor.  “Why are there feathers in here?” he asked, indicating a couple tufts that had missed the cleaning brigade.

“Now, since our patients are both awake,” Beckett said, quickly changing the subject, “It’s time you both wandered off to better things.”  And he gestured toward Ford and Teyla.

Ford turned to his CO, his glance asking permission to remain, but Sheppard shook his head.  “Go on,” he said.  “Get some grub or something.  I’m going to want to get some more sleep myself.  What to do you say, McKay?”

“I just woke up,” Rodney stated petulantly.

“Then you can keep me company until I drift off,” Sheppard said.  “Talk to me.”

Teyla squeezed Rodney’s hand again.  “When you are feeling better,” she told him quietly, “I shall tell you what Hoonah and Nenana told me about you.”  Then, in spite of Rodney’s confused look, she left him to stride to Sheppard’s bed. “I shall see you later today,” she promised, then tilting her head at Ford, she made her way toward the exit.

“Later, sir,” Ford called.  “Good to have you back, doc,” he added, touching the brim of his cap and then turned to briskly follow Teyla.

“Hookah and Nonnie-nonnie?” Rodney tried the names, looking toward Sheppard for help.  The Major could only shrug in response.

Beckett nodded, saying, “I have a thing or two to look after as well.”  As he moved past Kavanagh, the scientist called after him, but Carson kept moving.

Sheppard watched them go, and then turned to McKay.  “Feeling better?” he asked.

McKay gave him a withering look.  “Honestly, Major,” he returned.  “Do you have to ask?”  He raised his voice to call after Beckett, “Do you think I can get one of those morphine boxes going here?  You know, the one with the button?  -- the good stuff.  I have a surprisingly low pain threshold.”

McKay squinted after Beckett.  “You think he’s getting one?”

Sheppard shook his head. “Better not hold your breath.”

“Humph,” McKay returned.  “You sure?”  He looked hopefully at Sheppard, then crinked an eyebrow at him.  “Why are you still here, anyway?”

“Wrenched my knee,” Sheppard said, gesturing to the hurt leg.

“How’d you do that?”

“One of those snowmobiles fell on me,” Sheppard explained.

“How…?”  McKay started, letting the question trail off.

“We crashed.”  He sat forward when he saw McKay’s concerned look. 

“When did that happen?” McKay, asked, confused.

“When we were trying to save your ass.  God, it was a kick taking that snowmobile downhill.  We made that skid fly!  You should’ve been there.  It was freakin’ great!”

“Really?” McKay answered, his voice raised a bit.  “How fast do you think…?”

“Hell, I have no idea, but we were gettin’ some pretty good air.  Came off these incredible ledges.  It was swerving all over hell.   We must have been going straight down at one point.  Nearest thing to flyin’ without getting off the ground – much.  God it was a rush.”

“Until you crashed it…”

“Well, yeah, up until that point it was a hell of a ride.”

“Did you total it?”

“What?”

“The skid… the snowmobile.”

“Yeah, we smashed it pretty good. I don’t think they’ll be using that one anytime soon.”

“You think we could get it – I mean as part of the trade?”

“I don’t think the trade is still on, McKay.”

“Oh come on.  We need the meat.”

“I don’t know,” Sheppard said and sighed.  “I’m thinkin’ I’d rather see those tapas get away.”

“But we can still get that snowmobile, don’t you think?”

Sheppard chuckled.  “Don’t know, McKay.”

“Because I can modify it.  Get it a bit more peppy.  I’m sure there’re other planets in the Ancient Database that’d suit our needs for snow.  Give me a bit though. Not sure I'm quite, you know, ready for snow at the moment.” And he paused with that thought.  “Maybe someplace with a nice chalet and hot tub?  Because, all things considered, I’d rather not go back to Ekuk.”

“Don’t know if they’ll trade it,” Sheppard stated.  “I hear they cracked up a couple more of them in all the excitement.  They’ll probably want to cannibalize parts and make at least one good one out of the wreckage.”

McKay frowned, thinking.  “Maybe if the trade was good enough, they’ll still go for it. Those ladies were pretty darn excited about that fruit.  Fruit?  Why would they want fruit?  Try to figure that one out!  They sure had strange tastes.”

“Well they don’t have much vegetation on their part of the planet so…”

“Still, you’d think they’d want something tastier, like a load of self-warming MRE’s.”  He paused and blinked.  “Now… that’d be worth trading for.”

“Different strokes for different folks.”

“Hmmmm, still we might be able to manage it. You know, we start them on the fruit of the month club and get anything we want from them.”  McKay yawned.  He settled back on the bed, breathing slowly.  “I think… I think, I’m going to rest a bit now.”

“Go ahead,” the major responded.

“What about the… ah…’keeping you company’ thing.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Oh, good… good.”  And Rodney closed his eyes. 

"Rodney," John said softly.

"Hmmm?"

"Good to have you back," John stated.

Rodney smiled in return.  In a few moments, he’d drifted off.

Sheppard watched him sleep.  Yes, Rodney had managed to move his feet and to ease his legs about, but that didn’t mean that he’d be 100% when all this was over.  The worry hadn’t left John – there were still too many things that might not go right.  It might be a hard journey for him.  He wondered if McKay was up to it.

The room was silent for a while, until a muffled, nasal voice interrupted the stillness.  “Oh come on,” Kavanagh bleated from his bed.  “You know he’s going to be fine.  He wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of letting me get his position.”

Reluctantly, Sheppard turned to the black-eyed engineer and gave him a steely look.

Kavanagh continued, “He doesn’t give up on anything.  You know that.” He folded his arms over his chest.  “So stop acting as if you think otherwise.”  Looking annoyed, Kavanagh added, “And if you get those damn snowmobiles, you know he’s going to do everything he can to get to his feet and start fixing them up before anyone else can get their hands on them.”  He paused, and asked, with a tone that almost sounded hopeful, “So, you’re going to do it, right?”

Sheppard allowed himself a small smile.  Probably the first he’d ever had for the engineer.  “Yeah, I suspect so.”

Kavanagh grunted in response, his arms still tightly crossed at his chest.  “Figures,” he grumbled and flopped onto his side, turning so that his back was toward the major.

Sheppard sighed, not knowing what to make of that, as he reached for his radio. He had to contact Weir about a trade negotiation.


CHAPTER 25: MENDING WALL

John thought about the past month as he moved from one corridor and down another. All things considered, it had been a good month – and this particular day seemed as if it was going to be a damn fine one.

Ekuk was behind them.  A team had been dispatched to the planet and managed to trade three of the broken skids from the natives, hoping that they might get one working machine out of the group.  Of course, the genius McKay tinkered them all into working shape.

McKay had mended quickly from his ordeal, with no permanent damage.  Beckett was relieved as hell – and for that matter, Sheppard was too.  John still didn’t like thinking about what might have happened to McKay – if they hadn’t gotten to him in time, if they hadn’t escaped the avalanche, if the tapas had stampeded over the top of them, if a break in Rodney’s neck or spine, or the knock to the head had made things terribly worse.

John counted himself as damn fortunate that he hadn’t lost a friend.  Within a few days, Rodney was snippy and snappy, and full of piss and vinegar – exactly what they’d all grown used to.  And, as soon as the skids arrived, he dove, up to his elbows, into the Ekukian mechanics, puttering the equipment into working order, complaining to anyone who hung around to hear, and chuckling happily as he performed miracles.

Yes, Rodney was back to his usual irascible self, and John was glad to put that adventure behind them.  The Ekukians could keep their tapa-kabobs and dipping sauces and their women who were wild about maple leafs.

Speaking of maple leafs -- John knew exactly where the Canadian would be at that moment – in the makeshift shop in the corner of the jumper hangar.  Sheppard had heard that Sgt. Tanner had taken out the repaired snowskids to P4J-877 with some of his friends and promptly wrecked one of them.    John should’ve known better than the lend out their toys to that group.  Tanner’s friends could never stay out of trouble.

Anyway, Tanner had said that the skidding was great on that planet, and Sheppard was eager to give it a try – once the snowmobiles and McKay were all in good working order.

As Sheppard entered the enclosed stairway that went to the back of the jumper hangar - avoiding the more exposed front entrance.  He came to a stop at the first landing, finding Private Deroche gazing up the long series of stairs.  The young medic snapped to attention, trying to school his ‘deer in the headlights’ expression as he folded his hands behind him.  He met his CO’s questioning look with a, “Good morning, sir.”

“Deroche,” Sheppard returned, tilting his head at the man.  “You just hanging around in the stairs these days?”

“I… ah…” The young man swallowed, his nervousness telling the major everything he needed to know.

“No…” Sheppard muttered.

Without a way of escape, the Private showed Sheppard the length of cord.  “Sir, I’ve been keeping him restrained, but I left him with Corporal Alava when I went to …”

“You left him with Alava?”  Sheppard got out.

“Yes, sir,” Julian Deroche answered quickly.  “Private Richmond could have visitors.  I had to go right away, but the doctors won’t allow me to take…” and he held out the cord.    Seeing the dark look come over the major, he continued, “I didn’t know where Fairholm was, and Richie – you know he couldn’t watch him.  I needed to find someone.  Alava said he’d take Rudy to my room and shut him up.”  He looked lost as he talked faster.  “But, you see, he took him into the mess instead.  They got chased out by Corporal Recilios, and so Alava tied him up in the stairwell and…”

“Damn it, Julian!”

“I know, sir.  I know.  But Richie was waking up and… Alava was the only one around who’d watch him for me.  I made him promise, sir.”

Sheppard blew out a breath.  He couldn’t fault the private for wanting to see his teammate.  Private Richmond had suffered through an attack of appendicitis and had given the surgeons a bit of worry.  No, Sheppard couldn’t fault Deroche for wanting to see his friend as soon as he was allowed.

The major glared up the stairwell and threw Deroche a dark look.  “Where?”

“Up, sir,” the private answered uncertainly.  “It’s open at the top level.  He couldn’t have gotten through the doors by himself.”

“Damn it,” Sheppard repeated before he sprinted up the stairs to the jumper hangar.  Damn it!  Damn it!  He knew it would come to this!  He knew this was a bad idea from the start! It was going to be one hell of a day, wasn’t it?

Yes, they’d gone back to Ekuk to finagle the snowskids.  The Ekukians, desperate to make things right, had offered up not only the skids, but had pitifully presented one of the young itna pups.  “Weaned and ready for a new home,” they’d said helpfully.

Sheppard had flat out refused – but Weir, who’d joined the negotiations, had seen some wisdom in accepting this offer.  She’d taken their group aside and said that she wanted to mend fences.

“Good fences make good neighbors,” Paul ‘Richie’ Richmond muttered helpfully.  And Sheppard wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean, but having an ally was better than an enemy – there was wisdom there.

Weir accepted the squirming pet.  And, Deroche had instantly promised to take it in.  He’d worked with ‘problem’ animals in the past, having spent years volunteering at an animal shelter back home and swore he’d have the pup properly trained.  Richmond piped in that he’d help out, and had volunteered Mike Fairholm as well.

Sheppard, not liking the idea one bit, commanded that Deroche would have to keep the creature ALWAYS under control – and away from McKay.  Any report of vicious behavior would be the end of the creature.

They’d trade it away as soon as they found someone who would take it.  The problem was… nobody seemed to want an itna in the Pegasus galaxy.  And any suggestions regarding humane euthanasia was met with looks of horror from everyone concerned.

Damn pup was too cute! They’d get rid of it soon, but Sheppard didn’t want to see what happened when the thing crossed paths with McKay.  Oh, Rodney knew the beast was about, and always busied himself with something when the thing was mentioned.  No, Rodney didn’t need to see the creature – didn’t need to EVER be surprised by it.

Should have gotten rid of it already, John chastised himself.  He knew it would only lead to trouble.

So far, Deroche had kept his part of the bargain, training the animal and keeping it away from the scientist.  Between himself and the others, they’d managed well with the creature.  Fairholm was on Ozette’s team, so he’d take the creature when Deroche was off-world.  Richmond and Deroche had it the rest of the time.

“I swear, sir,” the young man insisted as he clambered up the stairs after the major.  “Rudy hasn’t shown any signs of aggression.  I swear, he…”

“We find the damn thing, now!” Sheppard insisted.  Bad idea!  He knew this was a bad idea from the outset.  They’d actually accepted a devil dog into Atlantis!  Shouldn’t have fallen for those innocent eyes!  This was trouble from the word ‘go’.

“I never let him nip,” Deroche insisted.  “The breed seems to need a firm handler.  But he’s smart and he’s caught on to all his commands.  He’s house trained … or rather ‘Atlantis trained’ and…”

“Deroche!” Sheppard snapped.  “Enough!”

As they came around the landing, Sheppard wondered if the animal could have found his way out onto one of the floors.  Certainly if it had been spotted, someone would be reporting it.  Sheppard had no time to report the incident.  First, he’d get to the hangar, check on Rodney – then he’d alert the base about the loose beast.  Honestly, he’d rather just scoop up the thing and hurry it away instead of getting McKay upset about it.

Bursting onto the upper level, Sheppard looked about in the open expanse of the jumper hangar.  The creature could be anywhere in here.  “McKay!” he shouted.  “Rodney!”  He frowned when he received no response.  He knew McKay was here – he wouldn’t leave a skid alone when it was in pieces.  The fool would work non-stop on it, foregoing sleep when a project was in the works.

And Beckett had told him to take it easy -- but that was impossible for McKay if he were in the middle of something.  Sheppard didn't think he could stop himself.  Maybe, if McKay could just sit still for a moment -- relax...

Jabbing out a finger, Sheppard indicated where he wanted Deroche to start searching.  The private nodded, accepting the direction and started his search, making little ‘smoochie’ noises and calling, “Here, boy.  Here, Rudy.”

Almost instantly, they heard a response.  A little whimper.  Snapping to attention, Sheppard followed the sound toward the machine shop with Julian at his side.  He could see the assembled skid, but no sign of McKay or the dog.  He jogged to the site.  Damn it… damn it… damn it!  His heart raced, wondering what had gone through Rodney’s mind when he saw the thing.

Wait…

Sheppard came to an abrupt halt as he came around the corner and drew out a hand to stop Deroche as well.  With a smile, he took in the sight.  McKay was asleep in a chair --  slouched, his legs resting on a crate – his head against the wall.  And sitting up in his lap, the white itna named Rudy.

The dog made a sound, just a quiet little whine, as he saw his master.  He thumped his tail happily, but didn’t move – the hand that rested over him gently blocked his escape.

“Sir,” Deroche said softly, looking to his CO.  “Do you want me to…”

Sheppard shook his head, chuckling.  Never stops surprising me, Sheppard thought, amused. At least he’s getting some rest.  That’ll make Beckett happy.  “Let him be, Julian,” he said with a sigh.

“But,” and the private held up the makeshift leash again.  “I’m supposed to keep him under control.  That was part of the deal.”

The itna, getting no immediate command from his master, settled back on the comfy lap that had captured him.  Letting loose one delicate yawn, the pup sighed audibly, curled up beneath that hand and closed his eyes.  

Sheppard shook his head as he watched, noting the design of McKay's sweater.  The Athosians had been kind enough to knit a new one for the man – using the Canadian Flag patch to get the right shape for the leaf.  So, the sweater no longer bore the blue and white of the Toronto Maple Leafs – instead sporting a brownish and beige approximation of red and white – McKay wore it whenever he could – even though he complained that it itched and was too warm for Atlantis.

He hadn’t complained about the missing red parka – much.

Looking awkward, Deroche asked, “What do you want me to do, sir.”

Rodney looked downright comfortable, slouching and asleep in that chair.  Who was he to disturb a sleeping scientist?

Reaching into his pocket, Sheppard withdrew a deck of cards.  “We could pass the time for a bit,” he stated as he pulled a chair out from a table that had been set up for poker.  “How’s Richmond doing?”

Deroche finally smiled and started detailing the conversation he’d had with his friend.  Sheppard settled in, content to pass the time in the hangar and let Deroche chatter away. He glanced to Rodney, and smiled as the scientist unconsciously scratched the small white dog between the ears.

Yeah, he thought, ain’t such a bad day at all.

THE END

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