(no subject)

[purna]

*

"You want to tell us why you thought it'd be a good idea to come in guns drawn? Did you even consider just talking to us?" Sheppard asked as they neared the array of doors that led to the conference room.

"You've got Marines surrounding us."

McKay twitched at the other Sheppard's words, and before Rodney could blink, McKay had his 9mm out. McKay's eyes darted about the room, but he wasn't aiming at Radek or Sheppard or Rodney himself. He was aiming at the ZPM.

"Don't anyone try anything. I can't let you have this," McKay said, his tone eerily calm. There was regret in his expression, but no uncertainty, no wavering in either his aim or his determination.

Rodney's stomach tried to turn itself inside out. "Are you suicidal?" he said, his voice an embarrassing squeak, and he could hear Radek cursing. Any bullet would have only a miniscule chance of penetrating the Ancient-hardened surface of the ZPM, but that tiny chance was connected to a hugely devastating result.

"Rodney. Rodney, put that away. It's okay. I didn't mean to startle you." The other Sheppard's voice had the odd tone he'd used on McKay before. The sound of it did strange things to Rodney's insides; he frowned, trying to shake off the feeling.

Teyla had eased up next to McKay. She pressed herself close to McKay's side and placed a hand on McKay's gun arm. "Rodney, there is no immediate threat. Please let me have this," she said, gently plucking the 9mm from his hand.

"Sorry, sorry," McKay muttered, staring at the floor.

"John was merely trying to point out their lack of trust in us," she said, taking his hand in hers and squeezing.

"There's no question about it; you are insane," Rodney burst out with. A blossoming pressure behind his eyes threatened a killer headache in the works. He pressed his fingertips against his forehead, trying to head it off. He spoke, not moving his hands or opening his eyes. "You can't just threaten to blow a hole in a ZPM. The megaton blast would be the least of our worries --"

Radek interrupted, finishing his thought, "You could potentially destabilize the dimensional stability of this universe."

"He knows that. He's not stupid, just desperate. We all are." The other Sheppard closed his eyes for a second, shrugging wearily. Rodney took in the dark bruises under his eyes and the stiff line of his shoulders. The beard almost disguised it, but this Sheppard looked careworn and stressed, the familiar planes of his face lined with fatigue.

Rodney took a reflexive step towards the man but stopped short after the first shuffle of his crutches. He nodded towards the conference table. "Think we could sit?" he asked, his shoulders slumping. He sighed; it'd been a long day.

A fleeting warm touch between his shoulder blades made him jump. He looked over to see Ronon beside him, his hand just moving away. Rodney blinked. Ronon didn't touch him, not his Ronon anyway, unless they were under fire or being threatened by the Wraith.

Ronon met Rodney's surprised stare calmly, a speculative expression on his face. Ronon stepped forward, into Rodney's space, and Rodney felt his face going hot, for no good reason. After a moment, Ronon reached over to pull Rodney's chair out for him.

Okay. Apparently some things had changed. Rodney settled into the chair, keeping Ronon under a wary eye.

"We have grown accustomed to a certain way of dealing with things," Teyla said with a frown as everyone settled around the conference table. "We apologize for our lack of finesse."

Her expression remained impassive, flat in a way that Rodney's Teyla only got when things had totally gone to hell. Rodney wondered what sorts of things she'd seen and done for her to think of an ambush as an acceptable course of action, as a mere lack of finesse. He wondered how long it had taken for her eyes to go dead that way and had to shake off a chill.

"How long?"

"How long for what?" McKay asked warily, staring at Rodney, who realized the question had come from him. He shifted in his chair. "How long did it take you to duplicate Janus' work?"

McKay's hand went up to trace the scar again. "Years," he said hollowly. "Four years. Four very long years."

Radek said something under his breath, and then everyone went quiet.

Rodney broke the silence finally. "Why didn't you just take the ZPM before we ever got there? Why the ambush?"

McKay sighed. "That was the plan, actually. We were late. Our navigation system is still a little shaky."

"Attacking my people does nothing to reassure me of your good intentions," Elizabeth said from the conference room entrance. "It's a strange course of action for a team who supposedly knows Atlantis and its people, don't you think?"

"Elizabeth," Teyla said, breaking the silence, her impassive front broken. Rodney gaped; Teyla looked suddenly on the edge of tears. McKay caught him staring at her and glared until he looked away.

Elizabeth moved closer to the conference table, looking in turn at Teyla and Ronon, at McKay and the bearded Sheppard. Rodney's Teyla and Ronon were at her side.

"How did everybody die?" Elizabeth asked. "And why were you spared?" She must have been listening in on the conversation. Rodney had left his comm open, and Sheppard probably had as well. Hostage Situation 101 was practically old hat now.

When no one spoke, Elizabeth repeated the question. "Why were you spared?" Her voice was the one she used for negotiating with the Genii. McKay's face had brightened when he'd first seen her, but the chill in her voice made his expression go tight.

"The Merians. You're going to get a plea for help, if you haven't already. From the Merians." The other Sheppard leaned forward, watching Elizabeth's face closely. "You already have, it looks like."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him and said nothing.

"The Merians asked for help. Dangerous solar flares, civilization at immediate risk, blah, blah. It's a trap. Will be a trap. Was a trap," McKay said and then frowned. "Douglas Adams was right about time travel grammar. Where's your Streetmentioner's Handbook when you really need it?" he said, and he sounded so normal it made Rodney's chest ache. He was still there, Rodney was still there, somewhere inside the scarred, unstable man who made Rodney more than a little uncomfortable.

McKay waved at the other members of his team. "Right after the ZPM was installed, we went through the gate to try to help. The Merians didn't want our help, though. They wanted to sell us to the Genii. We almost didn't make it out of there." McKay's hand flew up to trace his jaw line again.

"Is that where the scar came from?" Rodney asked before he could stop himself.

McKay froze, his lips tightening, and didn't answer.

"We made it back to the jumper," the other Sheppard said, not taking his eyes from McKay. "We got to the gate and dialed up Atlantis." He fell silent.

"And?" Elizabeth prodded.

"Nothing," Ronon rumbled.

"The sequence failed. We couldn't establish a wormhole," McKay said.

"I assume it was more serious than a malfunctioning gate," Radek said, his face pale.

McKay closed his eyes. "The Atlantean gate was gone. Atlantis was gone."

*

After McKay's announcement, the full story came out in fits and spurts. By that time, the members of team Marty McFly had nearly talked themselves hoarse.

They talked about the messages from Atlantis that McKay had found stored in the jumper's computer. First was Elizabeth, tension sharpening her vowels as she asked for a status report. Later was Radek's voice shaking and weak, a warning, a plea for Rodney's return. Atlantis had gone mad, equipment sending out lethal sparks, transporters refusing to release passengers. Their gate was unstable, making dialing out unsafe, and he was considering pulling one or both of the ZPMs. The last message was Miko's voice, breathless and almost inaudible. She was the only one left, she'd said, and the ballast tanks were filling with water. Atlantis was sinking; she was too frightened to risk the gate. She'd been crying.

"If anyone gets this message, tell my grandparents I love them," she'd said.

McKay recited her words from memory, his eyes closed. "And then the message cut off." He rubbed angrily at his eyes with his sleeve. "Damn it."

Radek reached over to rest a hand on McKay's shoulder. McKay tensed, but didn't shake it off. When he looked up, his eyes were still damp. "You need to hear the rest of it."

Without the gate, their return to Atlantis was a tale in and of itself, involving fruitless searching for another Aurora or Orion, and eventually swapping a week of McKay's technical expertise for a scavenged Ancient hyperspace drive and various other parts on what they called "the swap meet planet."

"You retrofitted a puddle jumper for hyperspace travel?" Rodney asked incredulously. "That's --"

"Amazing?" McKay said, his chin going up. Rodney finally understood the negative reaction from people on the receiving end of that particular expression.

"I was going for insane," Rodney snapped. "The shielding alone--"

"We didn't really have a choice, now did we?" Sheppard said, rubbing his temples.

"It took me six months, but it was the best choice. It made perfect sense," McKay said, leaning forward. "I already knew I was going to try to fix things by recreating Janus' device."

Rodney leaned forward as well, snapping his fingers. "His time machine made use of what's basically a hyperspace drive. It's just one more dimension, after all, to traverse time in addition to space."

"Exactly," McKay said, and they were grinning at each other in unconscious harmony.

"Where'd you park it?" Rodney blurted. "I'm guessing you landed on one of the northeast piers. It's pretty deserted out there, and the shield's been a little sketchy since the storm." He knew he was right when the other Sheppard's face went blank. "I want to see it."

"Rodney," Elizabeth said in her best not now tone of voice.

Teyla spoke. "What did you find when you returned to Atlantis? And what of my people?"

McKay froze, his smile dissolving. The other Sheppard spoke up, his eyes on McKay. "The Athosian village was deserted. No sign of culling, though, and most personal belongings were taken. We assumed the Daedalus showed up at some point and evacuated them."

Teyla picked up the narrative. "As for Atlantis, it was as we had feared. The city was gone. The jumper's sensors picked up signs of the city's wreckage, drowned on the sea floor."

Rodney winced, and he and Radek shared a distressed exchange of glances.

Elizabeth was looking thoughtful, a worried frown on her face. "So what's the bottom line here? We can't ever install the ZPM? That doesn't sound feasible."

McKay said, "That's exactly the bottom line," at the same moment Rodney was saying, "We'll fix it."

"Now who's crazy," McKay said, glaring at Rodney. "Something's wrong with it; it killed Atlantis. It's not like you really need it. It's a luxury."

"We don't know that, and if the Wraith attack again, it certainly won't be a luxury," Rodney snapped. "And we can fix it. I know we figure it out. Hello, two McKays, double the genius, double the fun."

The dull thud of something hitting the table interrupted them. Radek straightened up, lifting his head with a strained smile on his face. "Oh, boy, I cannot wait," he said, heavy with sarcasm.

*

They divided the work, with Rodney assigning himself the job of going through the Atlantean computer code line by line. He had a hunch, although he only used the term in his own head. If Radek asked, he'd call it a logical extrapolation of initial observations, and Radek would nod knowingly.

McKay was working with Radek, re-examining the ZPM itself. "No, no, no, that is not possible," Rodney heard Radek say at one point, in that irritated, almost-yelling voice that only Rodney ever seemed to inspire in him.

"It is possible," McKay said. He didn't sound at all irritated; in fact, he sounded as happy as Rodney had heard him sound yet.

Rodney looked over at them to see McKay staring at Radek with a wistful look on his face. "It's good to work with you again, Radek," McKay was saying.

Rodney averted his eyes, staring determinedly at his computer screen. McKay had looked and sounded raw, exposed in a way that made Rodney twitch. It was deeply weird to feel like an intruder in regards to your own privacy.

Team McFly settled uneasily into the routine of Atlantis. The next day Rodney gave his eyes a break from scanning computer code to walk down to breakfast with the two Sheppards and McKay. They got double takes and stares from military and scientists alike.

Radek was sitting alone at a table, communing with his mug of coffee, and they joined him.

"Radek," Rodney said, but Radek mostly ignored them, drinking his coffee down with pleased, guttural noises. "Maybe you and your coffee mug should get a room," Rodney said.

Radek shrugged. "It is good coffee."

Rodney slid the sugar shaker down to the other Sheppard without being asked. His own Sheppard couldn't stomach the mess's gluey oatmeal unsweetened, and he didn't see any reason for the other Sheppard's taste to be different.

"Thanks." The other Sheppard looked a little pinched around the eyes. He stirred the sugar into his oatmeal without looking up.

"I have said this before, but Earth ways often confuse me," Teyla said, sliding in next to Rodney.

"I warned you not to check American Pie out of the DVD library," Rodney said as he tried to pour the exact same amount of syrup in each of the little squares of his waffle.

Teyla shot him a look.

Sheppard cleared his throat. "What do you mean?" he asked Teyla in his ignore the retarded social skills of my idiot companion voice.

"The staring," Teyla said. She raised her eyebrow at an overly curious Marine, who blushed and went back to his food. "Athosians consider it rude."

"Yeah, well, so do Earth people, but good luck making some people mind their manners," Rodney said. He took a bite and then looked at McKay. "Sleep well?" he asked around a big mouthful of waffle.

"Rodney discussing manners, his mouth full of food. Imagine that," Radek snorted. He shot a glance around the table. "Mr. Oblivious, otherwise known as Rodney McKay," he said, waving his spoon and smiling in Rodney's direction.

"Dr. Oblivious, if you please, Radek," Rodney replied.

The clatter of McKay's fork dropping onto his plate interrupted them. McKay picked up his mug, but his hands were shaking so much he sloshed coffee all over the table.

"Damn it," McKay said under his breath, frantically mopping up with a napkin.

"Hey, you okay?" Sheppard asked.

"No, I don't think so," McKay muttered, pushing his chair back and standing. "I've got to...you know." With that, he hurried from the mess, leaving his uneaten breakfast behind.

Rodney slid his own chair back, but the other Sheppard waved him back. "No, eat your breakfast. I've got him."

They watched him leave the mess, and then looked at each other. Teyla took a bite of her melon and chewed thoughtfully.

"Should we?" Rodney said, just as Sheppard was saying, "I think..."

Teyla nodded in relief. "It is settled then," she said, as they stood.

They almost missed McKay and the other Sheppard. They had found a private spot, and only Teyla's Bionic Woman-like hearing led them to the secluded alcove the two men had ducked into. Rounding the corner, Sheppard and Teyla stopped in their tracks, and Rodney bumped into them, teetering on his crutches until Sheppard reached out a steadying hand.

"I can't do this. I can't do this," McKay was saying. His voice was muffled, his face pressed against the other Sheppard's chest. Their arms around each other, they seemed unaware that they were being observed.

"You can do this. I know you can," Sheppard said. He leaned in, tilted his head and his lips met McKay's. A kiss, easy and familiar, a married sort of kiss, Rodney realized. "You can do this," the other Sheppard repeated, pulling back from the kiss.

Rodney's good knee was a little shaky, and he shifted to keep his balance. The creaking of his crutches made the other Sheppard look up. When he saw them, he didn't try to untangle himself from McKay; he barely moved, stiffening a little. He narrowed his eyes at them, his stare a challenge.

"Oh," Sheppard said, his voice low. There was something in Sheppard's voice, but his face had gone carefully blank.

Sheppard shot him a quick look. "Rodney?" he said. It might have been the unsteadiness of his voice or the wistful, self-deprecating twist to his mouth, but it was then Rodney figured it out. Oh, jeez, this is big, this is real, and Rodney tried to swallow his panic down.

Rodney couldn't look at Sheppard, couldn't even face the gentle look he knew was on Teyla's face. His brain was stuttering along like a broken toy, and that was just unacceptable. "I need," he stuttered. "I need to get to the lab," he said and fled as fast as his crutches could carry him.

*

"Radek, anything on the ZPM yet?" Rodney asked, looking up from the soothing monotony of lines of code. He stretched, and the ache in his lower back flared, making him hiss. Maneuvering on crutches wasn't just trashing his hands; it was wreaking havoc on his back as well.

Radek looked up from his workbench, his hair a wild halo around a pale face. "Nothing. Nothing that could destroy--" Radek stopped, glancing over at the other side of the room where McKay sat at a workstation, searching the Ancient database. He lowered his voice and continued, "Nothing unusual at all about it, Rodney."

"Hmmm," Rodney said, and paused his display. He scrolled back a page, and went through more slowly, tapping the screen.

"Something?" Radek asked, his head still bent over the ZPM.

"When the other team talked about what happened on Atlantis," Rodney said slowly, still scanning the code. "Before the, uh, very end, I mean. Equipment turning on people. Transporters refusing to work. It sounded familiar."

Radek raised his head, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "The Daedalus. The Wraith virus."

"Bingo," Rodney said, turning the tablet so that Radek could see the translated lines of Wraith code.

Radek closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The Wraith worm that was sent in the data burst. But we thought it did nothing more than probe for data that it sent back to the hive ships."

Rodney tapped the screen. "Obviously, we were wrong. The virus appears to be targeting the sections of code that control Atlantis' integrated defense system."

He ticked points off his fingers, as he said, "The new ZPM gets installed. There's enough power to fully power the defense system, and bam. The Wraith virus has control of Atlantis' brain, control of its defenses. It could make Atlantis turn on us."

"There was no Wraith code when we checked the system before," Radek said. "We went over it with a fine-toothed comb."

"I know," Rodney said, frowning and rubbing his chin. "It must have been more subtle than we thought, able to hide itself in one of the subsystems. Somewhere we didn't check. Stupid, stupid," he said, thumping his forehead.

"I can do that for you, if you wish, and harder, no doubt," Radek said impatiently. "You've identified the problem. We are in no immediate danger. And you've dealt with a Wraith virus before. Easy as pie, yes?"

Rodney sighed. "I had Hermiod's help last time. But, sure, easy as pie," he said thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't Radek have caught that?" McKay's voice made Rodney jump. He hadn't heard the man approach. "My Radek, I mean," McKay added, flashing Radek a brittle smile.

Radek grimaced in sympathy and shrugged. "I don't know. I was not present for what happened on the Daedalus. Perhaps we didn't figure it out until too late."

"Hmm," Rodney said.

They worked late that night. Radek finally left to go to dinner, and the other Sheppard stopped by the lab right after that. He waved at Rodney and moved over to talk to McKay.

Rodney kept his head down, pretending to scan code. When he looked up, nothing about them looked out of the ordinary. Sheppard stood close to McKay, but not that close. They weren't touching or holding hands. They looked like friends, nothing more.

But friends don't kiss like that, Rodney thought and heat rushed to his face.

McKay let himself be talked into taking a break. He and the other Sheppard left together, and Rodney took a deep breath.

He forced himself to concentrate on his work and succeeded so well he was startled when someone spoke.

"Zelenka said you were still working in here," Sheppard said from the door. "Wraith virus," he added. "Déjà vu all over again."

"Huh? Yeah, kind of," Rodney muttered. "Luckily, it's not spreading like the one on the Daedalus; this one's just hitting Atlantis' defense system. Until that's fully online, which it won't be as long as we're down to one ZPM, we're safe."

"That is good to know, Rodney. We thought you might need a break. We brought dinner," Teyla said.

"Right now, we're working on a program to strip out the virus," Rodney said, waving at his computer screen. "It shouldn't be too hard. This one isn't like the last one. It's almost too easy."

"Maybe it's just a different strategy," Sheppard said, sliding a food tray onto Rodney's workbench. "It's meatloaf. Wouldn't want you to faint from manly hunger or anything."

"Different strategy, yeah," Rodney said slowly, not yet taking in Sheppard's jibe. When he did, he rolled his eyes, and then the food smell hit him.

"God, I'm starving," Rodney said, his stomach growling. He dug in, ignoring Sheppard's smirk.

Teyla hopped up on Rodney's lab table. "We were going to bring Dr. McKay a tray as well, but Colonel Sheppard said he'd take care of it."

"Yeah," Rodney said, stretching out the word. "They just left," he said, and then his nerves made his mouth run faster than his brain. "We're--they're obviously close. Really, really close."

Teyla cut him off. "Rodney," she said, her tone a warning. She had the impatient expression that she often got when the discussion of sexual topics came up.

"What? I mean, I'm just saying," Rodney said, trying not to sound weird about it, but the look on Teyla's face said she wasn't buying it.

"They have been alone for a very long time," she said quietly. "They find comfort with each other. You may deny yourself that comfort, but do not begrudge your counterparts."

Teyla sounded earnest, her eyes moving from his to look deliberately over at Sheppard. Resting a hand high on his shoulder for a moment, her thumb skimmed a quick and light brush over his neck, right above the jugular.

She gave them a grave nod. "I must go, Rodney. John."

Sheppard's gaze was darting between Rodney and Teyla, a faint blush rising over his cheekbones. After one last squeeze of Rodney's shoulder, Teyla left them.

Rodney tried not to blush himself when Sheppard's stare didn't move from his face, but he'd never had much success with hiding his emotions.

"It bothered you, seeing them like that," Sheppard said without preamble. Rodney fiddled with his fork, his heart starting to race. That's not what bothered me, he wanted to say, but he couldn't make his mouth form the words. I'm not ready for this. It's not fair; I didn't know.

Sheppard hadn't sounded angry before, but when Rodney didn't say anything, Sheppard's eyes slid away from Rodney's, to stare past Rodney's shoulder. "Canadian tolerance evaporates when it's your ass on the line, does it?"

The words were bitten off and sharp, and there was something resigned in Sheppard's posture, as if he already expected the worst.

He's had this talk before, Rodney thought suddenly. He tried not to feel offended, on multiple levels, at Sheppard's assumptions, Sheppard's secrecy. This was big, this was huge, and Sheppard had said nothing.

"It's not that," Rodney said sharply. "Don't be stupid." He shoveled food into his mouth to emphasize the point.

Sheppard ignored him, and his voice matched Rodney's for sharpness when he spoke, "If this means you're going to have a problem working with me--"

Rodney swallowed his meatloaf and said, "Quit being an ass, Sheppard. You don't know what you're talking about."

Sheppard's eyes weren't meeting his, and Rodney's breath caught as he realized that Sheppard was staring at his mouth, not even trying to hide it. His flat expression had cracked open all to hell, and the ache was written in his face, in the tightness of his eyes.

It tied Rodney's chest into knots, made him forget about trying to stall Sheppard until Rodney had dealt with his own shaky mess of emotions.

"Look," Rodney said, closing his eyes. "Before this, I never really thought about it." He stopped, wanting to be honest. "Okay, I might have thought about it, but not seriously. It's not like I ever did this before. And now, we're all tangled up with each other, and I've never...felt like that." He took a breath. "Ever. Like I'd die for you, and sometimes I don't even know where to put it all, and it's already--"

"Too much?" Sheppard asked, and Rodney almost wished he had sounded angry, because Rodney could have handled that.

"Yes. No. I don't know," Rodney said desperately. "I don't know. I don't know if I can do this, feel this." He closed his eyes. "It scares me," he blurted out and then winced. He hadn't meant to say that, hadn't wanted to sound so vulnerable.

"Oh," Sheppard said, softly enough Rodney almost missed it. Sheppard was silent for a long stretch, no talk, just watching Rodney.

Rodney frowned, suddenly unsure of himself in the midst of all their careful ambiguity. "So you really--?"

Sheppard nodded, reaching over to lightly cuff the side of Rodney's head. His taut expression eased just a little as he said, "Yeah, doofus. I do."

*

"So the anti-virus program is finished?" Elizabeth asked, finishing up the quick briefing she'd called.

"Yes, Elizabeth," Radek said when Rodney didn't answer immediately. "It actually did not take as long as we thought it might. The virus does not appear to be nearly as sophisticated as the one Rodney dealt with on the Daedalus. We will start running it after you give the okay."

She nodded, her eyes narrowing in thought. "And we'll be able to install the new ZPM when you're done?"

"Yes," Rodney said, pointedly not looking at McKay.

McKay frowned and took a deep breath, but said only, "A cautious yes, I'd say."

"Excellent. Keep me updated," Elizabeth said with a nod. "That'll be all." Her eyes met Rodney's, her head tilted in a wordless request for him to stay behind.

When Radek and McKay had left the room, she spoke again. "Rodney, before I forget. Our time-traveling guests--they seem well?"

Rodney hesitated. "As well as might be expected. They're all jumpy as hell, and McKay--" He shook his head. "Nice to know I'm one apocalypse away from, what's the word?" He whistled, circling his ear with a forefinger. He looked over at her, crossing his arms across his chest a little defiantly.

"Rodney." It was almost too soft to hear. Elizabeth's expression didn't alter, not at all, but Rodney knew what he'd see if he looked in her eyes, that look that saw right through him.

She cleared her throat. "Perhaps he'll have the opportunity to recover his mental equilibrium once he and his team return to their own restored Atlantis."

The frown on Rodney's face stopped her. "What is it?" she asked sharply.

"Elizabeth," he said, rubbing at his temples. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what, Rodney?" she asked.

"That they won't be returning to a restored Atlantis," he said. "They can't. "

"Explain," she said. He had surprised and disturbed her; the curtness of her demand showed that much.

His mouth twisted; she wasn't going to like his answer. Hell, he didn't like his answer. "There is no Atlantis for them to go to. Not one where they belong, anyway."

She shook her head. "I don't understand, Rodney."

He took a breath. "Elizabeth, the instant they changed things here, they caused a quantum forking event, a branch in causality. They can save Atlantis for us, but in doing so, they create a parallel quantum universe, one identical to theirs up to the point they interfered. In our universe, Atlantis is saved. In theirs, nothing has changed."

"Parallel universes. I didn't realize." Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, then she opened them suddenly. "Are they trapped here?" she asked, her voice rising.

"They can still use their time machine, so not really," Rodney hedged.

"I hear a 'but' in there, Rodney," she said.

"They can travel to our future, but we," he gestured between the two of them, "will already be there. We could probably figure out a way to return them to their own quantum universe, but there'd be little point in doing that. Nothing would have changed there. Atlantis will still be gone in that universe."

Horrified realization was dawning on Elizabeth's face. "But--"

"I know," Rodney said tiredly. "McKay had to have known. I'm sure they all knew."

She took in a breath, crossing her arms across her chest. "They'll be welcome to stay here," she said cautiously then stopped short. "Always a little out of step with our world. Forever reminded of all they've lost," she added with a sigh. "No true home, and no hope to ever have one again."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed, pressing on his eyes with the heels of hands. "They're left with nothing, and yet they still came back to save us." He sounded brittle and shaky even to himself.

Talking about this meant thinking about it, which he'd happily been avoiding until now. It meant confusion, all sorts of emotions tangling together: anger and sadness and a mixture of pride and affection so intense it burned.

"They've lost everything," he said with a strangled laugh. "They've got each other. Nothing else."

It was that last thought that stayed with Rodney long after he left Elizabeth for the lab.

*

"We need to talk," Rodney said when Sheppard's door finally opened. Sheppard was squinting even in the dim light and looked disheveled and half asleep. Rodney shot a guilty look at his watch, realizing just how late he'd stayed thinking and trying to work in the lab after Elizabeth's briefing.

"Yeah, most normal people are asleep right now," Sheppard said, but he didn't sound angry. "C'mon in." He waved Rodney into his quarters and flipped on the desk lamp. He raised an eyebrow when Rodney crutched over to stand right next to him, and then rubbed at his eyes.

"What's up, Rodney?" Sheppard asked, cracking a huge yawn.

"Did you? Do you?" Rodney said, and then, "Ah, hell." Letting his crutches clatter to the floor, he reached out with both hands and pulled Sheppard's face to his.

"Mmmph," Sheppard sputtered before Rodney's lips shut him up. There was a moment of resistance, Sheppard tense against Rodney's grip, his mouth unresponsive, and then Sheppard was kissing him back.

Rodney had expected it to be different from kissing a woman, and it was, Sheppard's mouth bigger, his face pricklier. He'd anticipated the slight height disadvantage, but he hadn't quite expected Sheppard's strength, and the ease with which he took control of the kiss. But it was exactly the same in a lot of ways: warm breath and wet, strong tongue and low appreciative noises.

And then Sheppard was gripping his biceps, pushing him back, saying, "Wait, wait."

"What?" Rodney asked defensively, his breath coming hard and fast. "I may not know what the hell I'm doing here, but that felt pretty good to me."

Sheppard was staring at him, his pupils wide and dark. He shook his head. "Let's. Let's just sit for a second, okay?" He steered them over to the bed, frowing.

They settled on the bed. The sheets were still warm, Rodney noted with a little shiver, and then Sheppard's frustrated sigh made him look over.

"What's with the change of heart?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney kept silent. He'd had long silent hours to think in the lab, and the path of his thoughts wasn't something he felt equipped to explain. McKay and his team, McKay and his Sheppard. How they'd seen so much loss in Pegasus, and so many threads of himself were already woven with his team, with Sheppard.

"You matter," he managed to say and then shrugged helplessly. It was almost overwhelming, to have so many people matter.

"I guess I figured it out." Rodney finally said. "It's not too much. I mean, I'm still scared out of my mind, but I want that. I want you." Blunt and clumsy, and he hadn't meant to say it that way, but he'd never been good at the whole mating ritual thing.

Sheppard didn't laugh. He didn't say anything. He was staring down at his hand, which rested on the bed covers.

Rodney waited for a reaction, but there was none. He shifted impatiently. They usually managed pretty well at saying things without really saying things, which was convenient, but he was at a total loss on this one.

"So," Rodney said finally, leaning in close, nervous but determined to bluster through. "I'm no expert at the guy thing, but it'll be hard to have sex if you're over there."

Sheppard looked up at him, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "You think?" He was staring at Rodney's mouth again, and his expression belied the flippant response. "You're sure you want this?" he asked, hope warring with caution in his voice.

Seeing Sheppard like this, defenses down, was weird and warming at the same time. It felt like a gift, or maybe a burden, but it was one Rodney was glad to share, and all the nervousness melted away.

"Don't be an ass. Yes, I'm sure." Rodney reached over and smacked the side of Sheppard's head. "And that's for calling me a doofus, doofus."

"But you are a doofus," Sheppard said, smacking him back.

Rodney hadn't realized that a slap fight could substitute for foreplay, but there was a first time for everything, he supposed. In the darkness, they settled themselves higher on the bed, and the wrestling and poking slid seamlessly into long, exploratory kisses.

He still wasn't sure about the whiskery rasp of unshaven cheeks against his skin, but he couldn't get enough of Sheppard's mouth. Sheppard tasted faintly of toothpaste and desperate hunger, and his slacker coolness deserted him in bed.

On their sides facing each other, hands and mouths wandered. Sheppard was hard and hairy and radiated a comfortable sleepy warmth through the thin shirt and boxers, and damn he seemed to know exactly where to touch. Rodney felt constricted, over-dressed, and he made a sound against Sheppard's mouth.

"Let me...get this off," he gasped, fending off Sheppard's groping hands for a second to pull off his uniform jacket.

Sheppard yanked it out of his hands, throwing it carelessly to the floor. Rodney wrestled with his shoes and socks, and then Sheppard was all over him again, touching and exploring. It was a total ego stroke to see Sheppard trembling with eagerness for him. Rodney barely remembered the last time someone had been that excited to have sex with him, back in undergrad probably, both of them hopped up on adolescent hormones and new freedom.

How long has he wanted this? Rodney thought a little wildly when Sheppard started sucking on his throat, making noises that Rodney usually reserved for Rocky Road ice cream. Sheppard's hand cupped him, making Rodney's breath catch almost painfully.

"Oh, god," Rodney gasped as Sheppard's strong fingers moved on him, exploring him as much as he could through the cloth of his pants. Sheppard's hand moved up Rodney's body, sliding up Rodney's ribs, detouring to slide under Rodney's T-shirt, tweaking a nipple.

Rodney made a low sound in the back of his throat, and then pulled away. Taking in a breath, he reached down for the hem of his T-shirt, tugging it over his head. He tossed it aside, hands tangling with Sheppard, who was already reaching for him again.

"Yeah," Sheppard breathed, skating a palm up the center of Rodney's chest. Sheppard's other hand moved to Rodney's cheek, and he dove back into the kiss. Rodney'd had vague notions that guys didn't tend to kiss all that much, but Sheppard shot that idea down. He obviously liked it, and he was very, very good at it, mixing it up a little. He went in deep and wet and nasty, but then pulled back to gently press his lips against Rodney's, skating a finger up Rodney's jawline.

It was kind of weird when Rodney's hips pushed against Sheppard's, two hard cocks in the picture instead of one. But his hips kept thrusting against Sheppard's instinctively, and his gasp was swallowed up in Sheppard's mouth.

The wet sound when Sheppard pulled away from the kiss was dirty and hot, igniting a flare of want in Rodney's belly. Even hotter and dirtier was Sheppard whispering, "I wanna suck you," his warm breath right in Rodney's ear.

Rodney managed a whimper and then an enthusiastic, "Oh, please, yeah."

Sheppard pulled away. The sound that came out of Rodney's mouth was embarrassingly close to a whine, but Sheppard didn't seem to hear, pushing him back on the bed, his fingers frantically working at the fastening of Rodney's pants.

Rodney batted at his hands. "The brace, the brace," he said.

"Fuck," Sheppard muttered. He moved down to Rodney's knee to fumble at the brace's fastening. The rip of the velcro was astonishingly loud, and then Sheppard was peeling it off him.

Rodney tore at the fastening of his pants, and Sheppard helped him ease his pants and boxers down and off. Sheppard was already sliding down between Rodney's legs when Rodney stopped him by grabbing a handful of T-shirt.

"C'mon, take this off," Rodney said in a voice that didn't sound like his own, breathless and raspy through lips that felt swollen from all the kissing. "I want to see you."

Sheppard looked up at him, a lopsided smile spreading over his face. "Sure," he said, sounding a little surprised, and shed his boxers and T-shirt so fast Rodney almost laughed.

"Oh," Rodney said. He reached out tentatively, glancing up at Sheppard. An eager nod prompted him to touch, low on Sheppard's belly, moving his fingers through the dark hair there.

A shudder racked Sheppard, his breath coming faster. Rodney was just getting into it, the warmth of skin, the scratch of hair under his palm, when Sheppard trapped his hand. Sheppard laughed at Rodney's little disappointed sound, and pushed him gently backwards.

Rodney leaned back a little, resting his weight on his hands behind him, and stared at Sheppard. Long and lean and naked, he knelt between Rodney's legs. It all struck Rodney suddenly then, like a punch to the gut, a rush of strangeness that made him blink. He was in bed with Sheppard, hairy and unmistakably male, his cock bobbing out from his body.

"Okay?" Sheppard asked, sliding his hands up Rodney's legs, his thumbs tracing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

Rodney could only nod, head bobbing like dashboard toy. He couldn't look away, staring down as Sheppard leaned in, swallowing him down in one smooth motion. Thank you, jesus, was Rodney's instant thought, as the first suck pulled a strangled groan out of him.

He didn't last very long, Sheppard's hot mouth pushing him over the edge in an embarrassingly short time. He was broken and pieced back together again, quicksilver heat and wet mouth, and the top of his head trying to come off. "Oh, god," he moaned as he came. Sheppard didn't pull away, swallowing it down, drawing a final shiver out of Rodney.

"That's good. You're--really good at that," he said. His arms gave out, and he flopped back to lie on his back, sucking wind like a sprinter, strung out and limp.

Endless seconds later, he'd recovered enough to nudge at Sheppard with his good knee. "Come up here," he said.

Sheppard smiled and settled on top of him, a solid weight pinning him to the bed. It gave him a claustrophobic twinge but then Sheppard's mouth came down on his, urgent, almost biting. Sheppard's hard cock, unbearably hot, eager, was poking his thigh.

"I love your mouth," he whispered into Sheppard's ear. "Do you want..." He trailed off, not quite ready to offer up what would no doubt be a painful attempt at a blowjob, and then Sheppard was capturing the hand that he tried to slide between them.

"No," Sheppard said in a shaky voice, shoving himself against Rodney's hip. "Just like this. This is good." Sheppard punctuated the word with a thrust into Rodney's thigh. He sucked on Rodney's lower lip, rutting against him, faster and faster. "Rodney," he said, the syllables broken with a groan, and then he was coming.

It didn't sound at all erotic, having someone come on him. But it was, almost painfully so, hot spurts of Sheppard's come slicking the space between their bodies. There was a renewed stir of mild interest from Rodney's cock, but he was too tired and strung out for anything more than a quick flicker of heat over his nerves.

Sheppard was draped over him like a heavy, breathing blanket, which felt great for about ten seconds.

"Uh," Rodney said, trying to shift under Sheppard's weight. "Could you..."

Sheppard rolled off him with a sigh. He fussed at getting the sheets and covers straightened out. Then he settled on his side, tucked up right next to Rodney, and fell asleep.

"We should clean up a little," Rodney said, elbowing Sheppard.

Sheppard grunted and swiped at Rodney's stomach with a corner of the sheet.

Rodney shrugged. "Suits me," he said, and let his eyes drift shut.

He woke a few hours later, a little sticky and sore. He wondered if he should get up and head back to his own quarters, but Sheppard had him half pinned to the bed, bony and lean, male.

He'd slept with Sheppard. He'd slept with his friend, his very male friend, but Rodney suffered only a tiny pang of sexual identity panic at the thought. Because it was Sheppard, his Sheppard, and that was more important than the discovery that Sheppard's skinny body was as much a part of his sexual happy place as a woman's smooth curves.

Can't move, he thought, telling himself he could always panic later. He slid his good knee between Sheppard's thighs and let himself drift back under.

"Wake up. McKay, wake up." Blinding light and a deep voice penetrated Rodney's warm blanket of sleep, and his hand went instinctively up to his earpiece to touch bare skin. He remembered ripping it off at some point during the night, the diversion of blood to his dick apparently crippling even to as brilliant a mind as his.

"Put it away, Sheppard," the deep voice said, and everything clicked into place again. He was naked and tangled up in Sheppard's sheets, and Sheppard himself was somehow blinking sleepily and yet tense and focused at the same time. He was arched over Rodney like a cat with his back up, aiming his 9mm--what, did he pull it out of his ass?--at whoever had walked in on them.

Rodney blinked up at the intruder, whose features resolved into the other Ronon, unmistakably feral, as edgy as Rodney's Ronon had been when he'd first settled in Atlantis. Rodney breathed a sigh of relief when Sheppard finally eased up on the hair-trigger reflex schtick and slid the 9mm out of sight somewhere.

"Jeez, we're naked here, Ronon," Rodney said. He belatedly tugged the sheet over himself, wincing at how high and shaky his voice sounded. "And how the hell did you get in?"

"Rodney's taught me a few things," Ronon said, sounding smug. "And it's nothing I haven't seen before."

Rodney clapped his hands over his ears. "Shut up, shut up, way too much information there, my Hulk-like friend."

Ronon scooped up a pair of pants from the floor and threw them at Rodney. "Get up and get dressed. Quick. Rodney sent me. We've got a problem."

*

"What took you so long--oh. I see." McKay had started talking the instant Rodney and Sheppard entered the control room, but he stopped short after a quick, knowing glance that darted from Rodney's mouth and neck over to Sheppard. Rodney tried not to blush, tugging his collar up in a futile attempt to hide the marks that advertised what exactly they'd been up to. They'd washed up as best as he they could with Ronon breathing down their necks, but they probably still reeked of sex and sweat.

McKay wasn't even paying attention, though, glaring at Radek, whose face was set in a stubborn frown. "Tell Radek we need to pull Atlantis' defense system computer. He doesn't trust me enough to do it without your okay."

There was an expectant pause, and then McKay snapped his fingers in a peremptory way that raised Rodney's hackles. "C'mon, get with the program. This is an emergency," McKay said, his voice rising.

"What? What are you talking about?" Rodney asked, and if he sounded cranky and shrill, he thought he could be forgiven. He'd been dragged naked out of a nice, warm bed by Australopithecus rononii, nixing the prospect of hot morning sex, all to deal with Atlantean life or death moment #309. On crutches, no less.

"Look at this," McKay said, impatiently thrusting a tablet into Rodney's hand. Rodney awkwardly juggled with it, until he shifted one hip onto a console, propping the crutches beside him.

"Wait, what am I looking for--oh, crap!"

"That's not something we like to hear, Rodney," Sheppard said, trying to look over Rodney's shoulder. "What do you mean, oh, crap?"

"This is just not possible," Rodney said, ignoring Sheppard's question.

"That's what I said," McKay said. "Do the scan yourself. The results will be the same."

"Rodney, what the hell?" Sheppard said.

"McKay's right," Rodney said, tapping the surface of the tablet. He looked over at Sheppard. "It's a power drain. Something's sucking juice from the ZPM like a giant hoover. Oh, this is bad."

"I don't think it's because of the virus. Our program cleared that section of code already," Radek said, his face set in stubborn lines. "This does not make sense."

Rodney waved the tablet at him. "The defense system is waking up, Radek. I don't know how or why, but if it wakes up infected with a Wraith virus, we're toast."

"Rodney, what are our options?" Elizabeth had shown up, pale and frowning, her arms folded tightly.

"Let's see. Pull the defense computer or pull the ZPM," Rodney snapped. "Or let the defense system go online under Wraith control and kill us all. Those are our options. Smart vote is on the first, wouldn't you say?"

"Do it," Elizabeth said, to Rodney's back. He had already turned to shove a laptop into its case, tugging the strap across his chest. Behind him, he could hear Elizabeth on her headset, giving low-voiced orders regarding the evacuation of nonessential personnel and then a quick exchange with Teyla about the Athosians.

"McKay, you're with me," Rodney said. "Sheppard, could you--"

"I got your six, Rodney." Sheppard looked and sounded the same as always, calm, almost detached. Nothing about him gave away the fact that he and Rodney had been rolling all over each other just a few hours before. Rodney found it steadying somehow.

Radek gestured at his laptop. "I will keep working here. If I cannot stop the power drain entirely, I may be able to divert it from feeding into the defense system."

They headed towards the transporter, and McKay tapped in their destination. Within seconds, they were spilling out of the transporter into the computing section, down in the core levels of the city near the ZPM chamber.

"Where to?" Sheppard asked, scanning the corridor in the seemingly casual way of his that Rodney knew missed nothing.

Rodney nodded his head. "This way."

The room containing the defense computer was dim and chilly, although the lights brightened when they stepped to the central console. Rodney pulled out his laptop and started connecting it to the Ancient hardware.

"You couldn't do this from the control room?" Sheppard asked. He sounded more curious than anything else.

"It requires physical access," Rodney replied. "Part of the security protocols."

McKay moved over to one end of the console. "Hmm," he said and pressed his hand to a panel. A screen similar to the puddle jumpers' heads up display popped up.

Rodney gaped at him. "Hey, how did you do that? I've never seen it do that before." He could feel the frown take over his face. He was the one who knew Atlantis best, not anyone else, not even this time-traveling doppelganger. Or so he'd always thought.

McKay didn't look away from the HUD, his eyes following the Ancient text that scrolled down the display. "I've got nearly five years on you in this, McKay. You learn a few things."

"Huh," Rodney said, an irritated release of air. Sheppard glanced over at him, and Rodney tried to keep his reaction off his face, but his was the poker face that lost a thousand bluffs.

Sheppard's mouth twitched, and his shoulders did that zen-like, "No worries" shrug that never failed to ratchet up Rodney's tension. He reached out to pat Rodney's shoulder, the mouth twitch blooming into a smile.

"What?" Rodney snapped, but he didn't give into his first impulse, to shrug off Sheppard's hand. He hunched over his laptop again.

"Nothing." All innocence, Sheppard lifted his arms slightly.

"Rodney." It was Radek, on Rodney's comm. "This is very weird."

"Could you be more specific, Radek?" Rodney asked. "'Weird' doesn't exactly tell me--"

Radek cut him off. "Rodney, I have not been able to shunt power from the defense system. It's doing things now. Very strange things. I'm picking up two, no three--hovno!--now four EM pulses throughout the city. I think--"

A noise interrupted Radek's transmission, a loud shrill sound coming from McKay's section of console. A pulsating mass of colors rippled across the screen, a visual alert to complement the noise.

"Oh, shit," McKay said, his eyes darting over the display. He took a convulsive step back from the console, staring at his own hands, his mouth slanting down in a way that Rodney only ever saw in photos or in his own mirror. It gave him a sudden, weird jolt, just when he'd thought he was used to the sight, a jarring reminder that yes, that's me. It gave him a crawly feeling, made his skin feel strangely incomplete.

"Rodney? Rodney, I don't think the Wraith virus is causing the defense system to act this way." It was Radek again, but Rodney's attention was on McKay.

"Shit," McKay repeated.

"What is it?" Rodney and Sheppard asked at the same time, Rodney meeting Sheppard's harried glance with one his own.

McKay pointed a shaky finger at the display. "Quarantine protocol. We're infected with nanites."

*

Jeez, not again. A second later, Rodney realized how much the thought was a tribute to the Pegasus galaxy, that he could greet a report of microscopic robots infecting himself, his duplicate from the future, and his--whatever Sheppard was--with such a jaded response.

There was a confusing babble of voices, the noise penetrating his skull and making it hard to think. "Listen--" he started to say, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. "Shut up," he said louder, but again no one heard.

Rodney snatched at his headset, fiddling with it until he managed to start a feedback loop over the comm.

"Christ," Sheppard said, ripping his headset off to rub at his ear. Rodney ignored Sheppard's glare, making sure his comm was still open as he resettled the headset over his ear.

"Now that I have everyone's attention," he said, once silence reigned again, "It's obvious that the Wraith virus was a smoke screen, something to distract us while the nanites did their work. The defense system was never the danger; it's trying to contain the nanites. But it's only got enough power for these little sporadic EM pulses--"

McKay interrupted Rodney just then with a frantic combination of snapping and pointing. "The second ZPM." He smacked at his forehead, and hunched into himself, rocking in place. "Shit, I was stupid. How could I be so stupid?"

"McKay," Sheppard growled. "Cut it out."

McKay's eyes stayed shut, but he stopped the rocking movement. "We, we, we need to install the ZPM. Now, ASAP. Once there's sufficient power--"

"Just what I was coming to," Rodney cut in, nodding impatiently. "There'll be enough power to start up the defense system energy fields, to set up a city-wide anti-replicator pulse. Radek, we'll need to shut down as much of our Earth electronics as we can; these EM pulses could fry everything."

There was no answer. "Radek?" "Zelenka!" Rodney's voice overlapped with Sheppard's.

"Radek, are you there?" Rodney asked, the familiar fear bubbling up, dark and choking. Please don't be dead, please don't be dead. His sprained knee was throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and he realized that he was holding his breath.

A babbled mix of Czech and English came over the comm, and Rodney's heart started beating again. Heavy breathing followed, and then an audible swallow, and Rodney could picture Radek getting hold of himself, pushing his fear aside to form a coherent sentence. "Rodney. I see shadows. Something--in the corner of my eye. Something's here."

"Radek, get to Carson. It's the nanites--"

"I'm infected; I know that, Rodney," Radek snapped. "It's more than that, I fear. Just--be careful. Oh. Oh, god--" The words disintegrated into a scream, and then nothingness as the comm cut out.

"Radek," Rodney said uselessly, fingers clenching into the foam-covered cross pieces of his crutches. "Radek, answer me!" The only answer was silence.

Rodney scrubbed at his sweaty face with a sleeve, and then opened his eyes to see McKay backing away from them, grinding his hands together in a washing motion.

"He's dead, isn't he? Isn't he? Oh, god, I've killed him twice," McKay said in a toneless voice.

Rodney grabbed McKay's wrist, hard enough to grind the bones together. "Shut up, McKay. We don't know that."

He looked over at Sheppard, who was tapping at his headset. "Elizabeth? Carson?" After a pause, he tapped again, "Am I reaching anyone? Please respond."

"Oh, god, I failed again. You heard him. Dead, dead, they always end up dead."

Rodney's throat tightened up at the sound of McKay's voice, all lost and scared, but they didn't have time for sympathy right now. He shook McKay, hard. "Snap out of it, McKay. Radek's not dead, damn it. You need to snap out of it, or everyone really will end up dead again. Saving everyone's asses is our job, always has been, so start doing it!"

McKay opened his eyes, taking in a shaky breath.

"Radio's out," Sheppard said. "I'm not reaching anyone. McKay, I need you thinking, okay?"

McKay took in three more deep breaths and shook off Rodney's hand. "Right. I got it. I'm okay."

"Comm's down because of an EM pulse," Rodney said to Sheppard, thinking furiously. "It fried the headsets. We've got some hardened comm gear in the labs, if we can just get there."

He realized his hands were balled up tightly enough to hurt and forced himself to relax them. "Come on. Time's wasting."

*

Part 3