Stargate Atlantis Fan Fic: Trust But Verify Part 3/5
Trust But Verify
Part 3
Grey. The world was grey. And full of pain. As he sensed himself surface to consciousness, Sheppard groaned. He felt as though he had been run over by a herd of Ronon’s pet fokins. As near as he could tell from the Satedan’s stories, fokins were a really nasty cousin of the American buffalo. Only with spikes, and a mouth full of very sharp teeth.
He tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he recalled was eating near-oatmeal with his team for breakfast. Slowly, the haze cleared from his brain as he remembered the survey mission, the room, the box… He had been trying to open the box for Rodney.
“Trust me, Sheppard.”
Crap. He remembered that. He remembered the feeling of being pulled apart, inch by inch as he was drawn into that mysterious box. That sure hadn’t felt like any transporter, or beaming technology. What the hell had happened to him?
He looked around, but the light in the room was too dim to see much. Room. Huh. He obviously wasn’t inside that box. Where was he?
Double crap. Rodney’s ZPM factory? Was that where he was? He sure hoped so, since the ride to whatever this was, was pretty unpleasant. The payoff better be really, really big.
His body ached from head to toe, like he had the beginnings of a really bad case of the flu. He really didn’t want to do that again without coming back to Atlantis with at least one fully functioning ZPM.
Sheppard mentally gave himself a shrug. He needed to find out where he was, then figure a way to get back to Atlantis. Then, he might even consider admitting to Beckett that he felt like hell.
Slowly, he pulled himself up until he was sitting, panting from the effort. The Colonel reached into his TAC vest for a flashlight to cut through the gloom.
Something was very wrong. He could see his hand move, touch his vest, move around in the pocket, but he couldn’t feel it at all. He slapped his hand on the floor, felt a flare of pain, but not the sensation of touching the floor.
Wow. That wasn’t good. With increasing anxiety, he tested his arms, his chest, his legs. Nothing. He saw the movement his limbs, but the sensation of touch was gone.
He tried really hard not to flash back to another time that his body had gone numb. At least that time he had been in a jumper, surrounded by his team, albeit with a big, ugly bug stuck to his neck. This time he was on his own. Alone. Who knows where? He felt the cold coil of fear shiver up his spine. What if this was permanent? If he figured out how to get home, would he be able to do his job? Fly? “Get it together, John” he said to himself. Now was not the time to lose it.
Sheppard realized that there was nothing he could do about the loss of feeling, permanent or not, but at least he was still somewhat mobile. He slowly, cautiously, made his way to his feet. It was totally weird. He felt pain from the transport, but nothing else. He could hear the sound of his boots as they hit the ground, but he could not feel his feet. He had never really thought about how his sense of touch keep him oriented. He had never imagined anything like this.
That comfort of his connection to Atlantis was missing, too. In a way, that was almost as unnerving as his lack of sensation. He mentally searched for the feeling of Ancient technology that he expected to feel if this was an Ancient facility, but there was nothing.
Sheppard has to focus on holding the flashlight in his deadened hand as he cast his light around the room.
He peered through the dim light. The pilot slowly moved towards the wall across the room from where he stood. If there was a door... a gate... he figured that's where he should start looking.
Walking was a dizzying nightmare, but he knew that he had to move. He couldn’t just sit back and wait for something to happen. That wasn’t in his nature. Sheppard felt compelled to go towards the wall, to actively decide his own fate. As he lurched forward, he thought that somehow his brain had been disconnected from his body. It was like the worst case of vertigo he had ever experienced, with the numbness from the Iratus bug thrown in for bad measure.
Sheppard stumbled as his feet tangled together. His reaction time was shot to hell so he fell, uncontrolled. He might have put out his arms to stop himself, but he couldn’t be sure. His head hit the floor with a sickening crack. Before he lost consciousness his last thought was that he was in a lot of trouble. He hoped his friends could figure out a way to get to him, because he was checking out…
*****SGA*****
Rodney McKay’s normal method of operation was to shout first and think later. He went from zero to panic in no time at all. Except, when there was a true emergency. Then, his teammates were reminded of why John Sheppard had made what seemed like an unlikely decision to put the scientist on his team. A more improbable pairing was hard to imagine, but Sheppard saw beneath the bluster to the good friend, and true genius that was M. Rodney McKay.
”Peterson, Teyla, Ronon. You’re not gene carriers. Pull the box away from the wall. We need to see what else is written on it.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, McKay? questioned the Satedan. “It could mess things up even more if we move the box.”
“Where did you get your PhD, Ronon? In a box of crackerjacks?” snapped McKay. “We need to get to Sheppard. His life sign has disappeared. I hope it’s because he’s no longer in the box, but I am pretty sure we don’t have the time to have a debate.”
Ronon, Teyla and the engineer hurried to the box. They struggled to move it. It was much heavier than it should be given its size. Slowly, they were able to inch it away from the wall exposing the rest of the Ancient inscription.
“Oh no,” moaned McKay. “I’m no Sheppard, but if I read this right, I think we’re in trouble here.”
“You mean Sheppard’s in trouble,” rumbled the Satedan. “What does it say, McKay?”
“The first part says that it’s a gate to power. That part we already knew.”
Ronon’s low growl of impatience silenced the scientist.
“Ronon, let him speak,” soothed Teyla.
With a quiver in his voice, McKay continued. “I’m not completely sure about this. I’m not a linguist, after all.”
“Rodney…”
“The second part of the inscription seems to say that there’s no return from the gate.”
McKay looked up from the box in horror.
“Oh my God, even if he’s not dead in the box, and I’m pretty sure he’s not, I don’t think he’ll be able to get himself back.”
McKay looked like he had just lost his best friend. In all likelihood, he had. And, his last words to his friend echoed in his head.
“Trust me, Sheppard”.
He was responsible. He had literally pushed Sheppard into touching the box without really knowing what the consequences would be. He needed to try to find his teammate. To fix this mess. Before his companions could stop him, Rodney put his hands on the box, and thought ‘open’. McKay felt himself be pulled into the box. He didn’t hear the horrified shouts of those he left behind.
Part 3
Grey. The world was grey. And full of pain. As he sensed himself surface to consciousness, Sheppard groaned. He felt as though he had been run over by a herd of Ronon’s pet fokins. As near as he could tell from the Satedan’s stories, fokins were a really nasty cousin of the American buffalo. Only with spikes, and a mouth full of very sharp teeth.
He tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he recalled was eating near-oatmeal with his team for breakfast. Slowly, the haze cleared from his brain as he remembered the survey mission, the room, the box… He had been trying to open the box for Rodney.
“Trust me, Sheppard.”
Crap. He remembered that. He remembered the feeling of being pulled apart, inch by inch as he was drawn into that mysterious box. That sure hadn’t felt like any transporter, or beaming technology. What the hell had happened to him?
He looked around, but the light in the room was too dim to see much. Room. Huh. He obviously wasn’t inside that box. Where was he?
Double crap. Rodney’s ZPM factory? Was that where he was? He sure hoped so, since the ride to whatever this was, was pretty unpleasant. The payoff better be really, really big.
His body ached from head to toe, like he had the beginnings of a really bad case of the flu. He really didn’t want to do that again without coming back to Atlantis with at least one fully functioning ZPM.
Sheppard mentally gave himself a shrug. He needed to find out where he was, then figure a way to get back to Atlantis. Then, he might even consider admitting to Beckett that he felt like hell.
Slowly, he pulled himself up until he was sitting, panting from the effort. The Colonel reached into his TAC vest for a flashlight to cut through the gloom.
Something was very wrong. He could see his hand move, touch his vest, move around in the pocket, but he couldn’t feel it at all. He slapped his hand on the floor, felt a flare of pain, but not the sensation of touching the floor.
Wow. That wasn’t good. With increasing anxiety, he tested his arms, his chest, his legs. Nothing. He saw the movement his limbs, but the sensation of touch was gone.
He tried really hard not to flash back to another time that his body had gone numb. At least that time he had been in a jumper, surrounded by his team, albeit with a big, ugly bug stuck to his neck. This time he was on his own. Alone. Who knows where? He felt the cold coil of fear shiver up his spine. What if this was permanent? If he figured out how to get home, would he be able to do his job? Fly? “Get it together, John” he said to himself. Now was not the time to lose it.
Sheppard realized that there was nothing he could do about the loss of feeling, permanent or not, but at least he was still somewhat mobile. He slowly, cautiously, made his way to his feet. It was totally weird. He felt pain from the transport, but nothing else. He could hear the sound of his boots as they hit the ground, but he could not feel his feet. He had never really thought about how his sense of touch keep him oriented. He had never imagined anything like this.
That comfort of his connection to Atlantis was missing, too. In a way, that was almost as unnerving as his lack of sensation. He mentally searched for the feeling of Ancient technology that he expected to feel if this was an Ancient facility, but there was nothing.
Sheppard has to focus on holding the flashlight in his deadened hand as he cast his light around the room.
He peered through the dim light. The pilot slowly moved towards the wall across the room from where he stood. If there was a door... a gate... he figured that's where he should start looking.
Walking was a dizzying nightmare, but he knew that he had to move. He couldn’t just sit back and wait for something to happen. That wasn’t in his nature. Sheppard felt compelled to go towards the wall, to actively decide his own fate. As he lurched forward, he thought that somehow his brain had been disconnected from his body. It was like the worst case of vertigo he had ever experienced, with the numbness from the Iratus bug thrown in for bad measure.
Sheppard stumbled as his feet tangled together. His reaction time was shot to hell so he fell, uncontrolled. He might have put out his arms to stop himself, but he couldn’t be sure. His head hit the floor with a sickening crack. Before he lost consciousness his last thought was that he was in a lot of trouble. He hoped his friends could figure out a way to get to him, because he was checking out…
*****SGA*****
Rodney McKay’s normal method of operation was to shout first and think later. He went from zero to panic in no time at all. Except, when there was a true emergency. Then, his teammates were reminded of why John Sheppard had made what seemed like an unlikely decision to put the scientist on his team. A more improbable pairing was hard to imagine, but Sheppard saw beneath the bluster to the good friend, and true genius that was M. Rodney McKay.
”Peterson, Teyla, Ronon. You’re not gene carriers. Pull the box away from the wall. We need to see what else is written on it.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, McKay? questioned the Satedan. “It could mess things up even more if we move the box.”
“Where did you get your PhD, Ronon? In a box of crackerjacks?” snapped McKay. “We need to get to Sheppard. His life sign has disappeared. I hope it’s because he’s no longer in the box, but I am pretty sure we don’t have the time to have a debate.”
Ronon, Teyla and the engineer hurried to the box. They struggled to move it. It was much heavier than it should be given its size. Slowly, they were able to inch it away from the wall exposing the rest of the Ancient inscription.
“Oh no,” moaned McKay. “I’m no Sheppard, but if I read this right, I think we’re in trouble here.”
“You mean Sheppard’s in trouble,” rumbled the Satedan. “What does it say, McKay?”
“The first part says that it’s a gate to power. That part we already knew.”
Ronon’s low growl of impatience silenced the scientist.
“Ronon, let him speak,” soothed Teyla.
With a quiver in his voice, McKay continued. “I’m not completely sure about this. I’m not a linguist, after all.”
“Rodney…”
“The second part of the inscription seems to say that there’s no return from the gate.”
McKay looked up from the box in horror.
“Oh my God, even if he’s not dead in the box, and I’m pretty sure he’s not, I don’t think he’ll be able to get himself back.”
McKay looked like he had just lost his best friend. In all likelihood, he had. And, his last words to his friend echoed in his head.
“Trust me, Sheppard”.
He was responsible. He had literally pushed Sheppard into touching the box without really knowing what the consequences would be. He needed to try to find his teammate. To fix this mess. Before his companions could stop him, Rodney put his hands on the box, and thought ‘open’. McKay felt himself be pulled into the box. He didn’t hear the horrified shouts of those he left behind.