Terminal Expansion, for the Amnesty 06 / Enclosed Spaces challenge
Title: Terminal Expansion
Author: Huggle
Rating: PG (parental guidance? - sorry I don't know what it should be under)
Spoilers: 38 minutes
Warnings: Character death
A/note: You're probably all sick of me by now (sorry) but I've been waiting to post these, and I think there's just one more. Then I'll leave you alone until the next challenge! *g*
Summary: “We can’t stop it,” Beckett said. “I haven’t even figured out how it started yet.”
Word count: 494
They obviously didn’t think he could hear them.
If they did, there’s no way they’d be so candid.
“We can’t stop it,” Beckett said. “I haven’t even figured out how it started yet.”
“Come on, doc, you have to do something.” Sheppard. “I know McKay’s probably got a brain bigger than the rest of us anyway, but this is ridiculous.”
Rodney grinned. Oh, yes, his brain was definitely bigger than theirs. And getting bigger. Unfortunately, his skull wasn’t which probably explained why he felt like someone had fastened a belt around his grey matter and was tightening it in a notch every few minutes.
Logically, that should be his primary concern. But he had so many other wondrous things to be distracted by. Like he now knew how to build a ZPM and oh, it was so obvious that he realised he’d been an idiot before not to see it. He needed pen and paper to write it down for Zelenka. He’d have to do it.
And the puddle jumpers: he knew he could build one now, from scratch. Sheppard would be pleased at that. They were down to four and they needed them desperately; Sheppard maybe more than the expedition itself because for him flying was more vital than breathing. He didn’t want to think what Sheppard would do if his wings were clipped.
It was too much now: a thousand ideas jumping up and down like attention starved children, all wanting his focus, now, now, now! He knew he’d screamed when Sheppard and Beckett were suddenly there.
“Oh my god,” Sheppard said. His colour peeled away until Rodney thought he was looking at a dead man. He was, he knew with mysterious certainty. Sheppard just didn’t know it yet. Couldn’t know that the Iratus Bug couldn’t be beaten. Couldn’t know that it left an undetectable residue in the bodies of its victims that lay dormant for months, sometimes years, but eventually started to break down cellular tissue. Sheppard had 14 months and he was going to die in agony. McKay could see it, could hear his screams.
But Rodney knew how to fix that too. Pen, paper, this time for Carson.
But he couldn’t speak.
"Rodney,” Sheppard said.
McKay tried to grab his hand, to tell him, somehow, but his body wasn’t working anymore. When he felt the blood start to trickle down his nose, he knew he was out of time. But there was one more thing he knew how to do. Atlantis. He focused all his willpower on her, felt her open herself to him and take him in, embracing his knowledge in wonderfully cool arms that bleached away the pain and the fear as his heart stopped.
It might be many days before someone noticed that among the endless knowledge accrued in the city’s system there were thousands of new entries but when they did, McKay could at least know they’d been saved. He’d done that. It was enough.
Author: Huggle
Rating: PG (parental guidance? - sorry I don't know what it should be under)
Spoilers: 38 minutes
Warnings: Character death
A/note: You're probably all sick of me by now (sorry) but I've been waiting to post these, and I think there's just one more. Then I'll leave you alone until the next challenge! *g*
Summary: “We can’t stop it,” Beckett said. “I haven’t even figured out how it started yet.”
Word count: 494
They obviously didn’t think he could hear them.
If they did, there’s no way they’d be so candid.
“We can’t stop it,” Beckett said. “I haven’t even figured out how it started yet.”
“Come on, doc, you have to do something.” Sheppard. “I know McKay’s probably got a brain bigger than the rest of us anyway, but this is ridiculous.”
Rodney grinned. Oh, yes, his brain was definitely bigger than theirs. And getting bigger. Unfortunately, his skull wasn’t which probably explained why he felt like someone had fastened a belt around his grey matter and was tightening it in a notch every few minutes.
Logically, that should be his primary concern. But he had so many other wondrous things to be distracted by. Like he now knew how to build a ZPM and oh, it was so obvious that he realised he’d been an idiot before not to see it. He needed pen and paper to write it down for Zelenka. He’d have to do it.
And the puddle jumpers: he knew he could build one now, from scratch. Sheppard would be pleased at that. They were down to four and they needed them desperately; Sheppard maybe more than the expedition itself because for him flying was more vital than breathing. He didn’t want to think what Sheppard would do if his wings were clipped.
It was too much now: a thousand ideas jumping up and down like attention starved children, all wanting his focus, now, now, now! He knew he’d screamed when Sheppard and Beckett were suddenly there.
“Oh my god,” Sheppard said. His colour peeled away until Rodney thought he was looking at a dead man. He was, he knew with mysterious certainty. Sheppard just didn’t know it yet. Couldn’t know that the Iratus Bug couldn’t be beaten. Couldn’t know that it left an undetectable residue in the bodies of its victims that lay dormant for months, sometimes years, but eventually started to break down cellular tissue. Sheppard had 14 months and he was going to die in agony. McKay could see it, could hear his screams.
But Rodney knew how to fix that too. Pen, paper, this time for Carson.
But he couldn’t speak.
"Rodney,” Sheppard said.
McKay tried to grab his hand, to tell him, somehow, but his body wasn’t working anymore. When he felt the blood start to trickle down his nose, he knew he was out of time. But there was one more thing he knew how to do. Atlantis. He focused all his willpower on her, felt her open herself to him and take him in, embracing his knowledge in wonderfully cool arms that bleached away the pain and the fear as his heart stopped.
It might be many days before someone noticed that among the endless knowledge accrued in the city’s system there were thousands of new entries but when they did, McKay could at least know they’d been saved. He’d done that. It was enough.