Proper Motivation, wildcat88 [linziday]
Title: Proper Motivation
Author: wildcat88
Rating: PG
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, Carson, Keller, Woolsey
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers through The Shrine
Request: prompt by linziday
Summary: A man can do unbelievable things with the proper motivation. Even Rodney McKay.
A/N: Thanks to leesa_perrie for the lightening fast beta. All mistakes mine.
“Oh, come on,” McKay scoffed, wiping the sweat from his eyes. “You’re making that up.”
Ronon slashed at the vegetation with Tyre’s sword. “Nope. Dalem is a legend among Satedans. He carried his entire team on his back through the mountain pass during a blizzard.”
The gulp from his canteen didn’t mar Rodney’s eye roll. “All three of them. In a blizzard.”
“Five. Satedan teams are made up of six warriors.”
Rodney shot a glance at Sheppard who was innocently studying the jungle canopy while Teyla pretended to reband her hair.
“Riiiight. Five men. On his back. In a blizzard.” McKay pulled out his tablet and made great show of scrolling through several screens. “Oh, look. That bridge is still for sale. Think I should buy it?”
Ronon shrugged. “A man can do unbelievable things with the proper motivation.”
Rodney’s scanner beeped. He paused, frowning at it as he adjusted the settings. “The energy readings are still fluctuating, but I think we’re headed in the right direction.”
Sheppard arched a brow behind his aviator shades. “You think.”
“Yes, I think. It’s like tracing an echo to its source.”
McKay ignored Sheppard’s smirk as the tramp through Jurassic Park continued. A fly-over in the jumper had yielded ruins scattered throughout the overgrown rainforest, and the HUD had shown abundant life signs. They had parked the small ship as close as they could, not encountering anything larger than a hippo-sized duck that startled out of the water when they landed nearby. Rodney had gawked as the unwieldy mass lifted gracefully into the air, seeming to defy all he knew of physics. Some days he couldn’t believe he actually got paid to do this job.
“Rodney?” Teyla called. “You should see this.”
He followed her over the moss-carpeted forest floor and through a veil of ferns, the damp foliage reeking of decayed leaves and fresh loam. A stone column was wedged between two trees, Ancient symbols almost completely weathered away. He pulled out his camera, capturing as much of it as he could.
“What does it say?” Ronon asked.
Rodney ran his fingers over the markings, trying to imagine the missing pieces. “I’m not sure. Some of the more important parts have crumbled away.”
“I don’t suppose it’s directions to the nearest ZPM,” Sheppard said.
“Of course. It says right here, ‘Follow the yellow brick road.’”
“You’re a riot, McKay.”
“I’ll be here all week.”
Sheppard snorted. “That’s entirely possible if you don’t come up with something more.”
“The words I can decipher don’t make any sense. Sunrise, void, magma, forest, warship-”
“Warship?” Ronon stepped around him, studying the column intently.
“Stop drooling. I told you it doesn’t make any sense. From what I can tell, it says, ‘The sunrise in the void something something something magma forest over the warship.’”
“No directions to the warship?” Sheppard asked.
“What is it with you and directions today?” Rodney sniped. “Look around. Do you see a magma forest anywhere? You know how the Ancients were about décor and… and….”
“Energy readings?”
“What? Oh. They’re still bouncing around like crazy.” McKay circled the area, waving his scanner at the column, the trees, Ronon. “Nothing concrete. I can’t-”
Screeching filled the air - inhuman and angry. As one, they glanced up. The hippo-duck had brought friends. Hundreds circled above them, the roar of their wings adding to the cacophony.
“John,” Teyla said calmly, “perhaps we should….”
“Yeah, exactly what I was thinking,” Sheppard replied. “Ronon, you take point. Look as meek and harmless as possible.”
Rodney tucked his scanner in a pocket and followed Ronon through the jungle, Teyla and Sheppard close enough behind him that he could feel their breath on his neck. Their proximity and the thickness of the vegetation around him pricked at his claustrophobia. He focused on one of Ronon’s dreads, concentrating on breathing through his nose. He knew they were not only making the smallest target possible, they were protecting him. His life - his off-world life anyway - was spent surrounded by his teammates; he was always in the center. The tension in his chest eased slightly as the thought of ‘safe’ replaced ‘crowded.’
The hippo-ducks followed them to the clearing, the squawking and flapping growing louder as the forest thinned. Sheppard remotely opened the rear hatch as a particularly large fowl swooped toward them then veered off.
“Run!” Sheppard shouted.
Ronon took off like a shot then turned to grab McKay’s vest and drag him along. Rodney did his best to keep his feet under him, hearing Teyla and Sheppard pounding along behind them. Ronon threw him bodily inside the jumper then braced at the end of the ramp, blaster drawn, to cover Sheppard and Teyla. Rodney ran to the pilot’s seat and fired up the engines, moving rapidly out of the way as Sheppard skidded to a stop and dropped into the chair. The ramp was still closing when the jumper rose into the air.
“Watch out!” Rodney warned when one of the birds dive-bombed them.
Sheppard cloaked the jumper as he banked sharply right, the inertial dampeners struggling to keep up. They bobbed and weaved their way through the flock, barely missing two exceptionally large hippo-ducks. Rodney pulled out his camera, determined to photograph one of them to prove to Radek that he didn’t make up stuff like this. He aimed carefully as a bird rose before them only to have the view blur as Sheppard turned the jumper’s nose to space.
“Aw, come on. One lousy picture was all I needed.”
Sheppard smirked as the jumper arced gracefully and headed back down to the gate. “Maybe next time, McKay.”
“But you’re going to back me up this time, right?” Rodney quickly tapped in Atlantis’ gate address. “When I tell Zelenka about the hippo-ducks.”
“What hippo-ducks? Ronon, did you see anything like that?”
“Don’t know what a hippo-duck is.”
“Teyla?” Sheppard lined the jumper with the gate and plunged through.
“I must have been looking in a different direction.”
Rodney sulked as they rose through the gateroom to the jumper bay. “I can’t believe you guys. Do you know what the pot is up to these days?”
Sheppard grinned at him. “Yep.”
“You bet against me?” McKay gaped at him. “That’s… that’s just… rude.”
“Ow. Watch out for that rapier wit.” Sheppard chuckled. “Besides, imagine what the pot will be next time.”
“Don’t even try making excuses.” Rodney followed Teyla down the ramp and toward the stairs. “I’m not interested.”
Woolsey was waiting for them in the control room. “Welcome back. I need all of you in the conference room now.”
Rodney exchanged a worried glance with Sheppard as they crossed to the conference room and took a seat.
“We’ve had some disturbing reports from a couple of off-world teams,” Woolsey said. “I asked Dr. Keller to double check the results. She should be here any minute.”
The doors slid open, and Jennifer Keller hurried in, her hair haphazardly clipped at the nape of her neck and violet smudges under her eyes.
“I’m sorry to be late. I ran the data a third time to be sure.” Keller dropped in a chair, exhaustion and discouragement vying for top place in her frame. “It’s definitely the Hoffan virus. It’s popped up on three worlds not previously affected.”
Groans echoed around the table.
“So, Michael’s back,” Sheppard surmised.
“Not necessarily,” Keller said. “This version of the virus is a mutation.”
Woolsey sat up straighter and tugged on his jacket. “How so?”
“Before now, it had to be introduced through the water or food supply. This strain seems to be communicable. The worlds recently infected are close trading partners, and only a small portion of the population is infected.”
“Meaning….” Sheppard prompted.
“It’s not airborne. At least not yet. It’s probably spread like a cold or the flu - through personal contact.”
Rodney wiped his hands on his pant legs, making a mental note to order more hand sanitizer. “And we can do what about this?”
Keller sighed heavily. “Not much. We never found a cure.” She turned to Woolsey. “If this continues to spread, we will have a galaxy-wide epidemic. Eventually someone we know will catch it - the Athosians, the Genii, the Manarans. We need to stop this now. If it reaches Atlantis….”
“What do you suggest, Doctor?”
“We need to get out there, help these people, take samples, do what we can to find a cure.” She held Woolsey’s eye. “And it would help to have the designer of the virus here.”
“What?” Rodney squeaked. “Are you serious?”
Jennifer leaned on the table, determined. “Carson is the best hope we have of figuring this out, and you know it.”
“He’s still recovering.”
“He can work in a comfortable lab at his own pace-”
“Oh, come on,” McKay protested. “He’ll work himself into the ground. That’s the way he is. You saw him last time.”
“I know what I’m asking, Rodney. I also know how guilty Carson felt about creating this virus.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No, not the first time,” Keller conceded. “But I sat next to him in a lab for hours at a time when we got him back.” Her voice softened. “It all came spilling out one day, like he’d bottled it up and the cork had finally popped. I was the one who happened to be in the room. When he finds out more people are dying… and he will….”
“It will kill him.” Rodney clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. “He doesn’t deserve this.”
Woolsey’s eyes flicked around the table then settled on Keller. “It will take almost three weeks to get him here. Are you sure there’s no other way?”
“I worked for weeks on this before with absolutely nothing to show for it. I can send the latest results for him to work on during his trip. I can’t promise that even with his help we’ll be able to figure it out, but it’s the best chance we have.”
After scribbling a few notes, Woolsey nodded. “The resources of Atlantis are at your disposal, Doctor. Do whatever it takes to stop this. Dr. McKay, make sure Atlantis’ quarantine protocols recognize and react to this new version of the Hoffan virus. Colonel Sheppard, please coordinate security details for the medical teams going off-world. Teyla, Ronon, notify any contacts you have to stay clear of these worlds until further notice. Thank you, everyone.”
xxx
“Here.”
Rodney glanced up to find Sheppard dangling a sandwich in front of him. “What’s this for?”
“You.” Sheppard dropped the sandwich next to the keyboard and added a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and an apple. “You missed lunch. Again.”
“Really?” McKay unwrapped the sandwich and took a huge bite, his stomach gurgling in anticipation. “Guess you’re right.”
Sheppard straddled the chair next to him, studying the monitors. “Find anything?”
“Nothing. I’ve been staring at this data for seventeen-”
“Eighteen.”
“-eighteen days straight now, and I haven’t found one thing that will help us. Every chemist I have has been going over it along with the biologists, zoologists, and every other -ologist here.” Rodney chugged half the water. “There has to be an answer somewhere.”
“You know that working until you drop isn’t going to solve anything, right?”
Rodney hunched over, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe.”
“McKay.” Sheppard turned, tugging at Rodney’s arm until he faced him. “The last thing we need is you guest starring in the infirmary from driving yourself too hard. It’s okay for you not to have the answer to this. Being a genius doesn’t make you omniscient.”
The muscles bunched in Rodney’s neck and shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, of course not. Who would ever think such a thing?” He crammed a handful of chips in his mouth, talking around them. “By the way, who’s winning the tournament?”
“Teyla.”
“Of course. Why anyone would play poker with her is beyond me.”
The citywide crackled to life. “Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard to the gateroom.”
Rodney sighed, stuffing the apple in his jacket pocket and finishing off the water. “Guess he’s here.”
“Guess so.” Sheppard punched his arm playfully. “Come on then.”
“Did you strike me? I’m going to file a complaint.” McKay hopped off the stool and followed Sheppard to the transporter.
“Riiiight. Be sure you take pictures.”
“Ha ha. Have you forgotten who controls the life support systems here?”
Sheppard tapped the transporter controls. “Gonna shut off my oxygen?”
“Nope.” Rodney stepped out on the gateroom level. “Your temperature controls. See how you like Arizona in July.”
“There’s a threat,” Sheppard snorted as they crossed to the control room. “I lived in Afghanistan for two years.”
“What about-”
“And Antarctica for the next year.”
“Good point. Cold showers?”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Grunt.”
“Geek.”
“Gentlemen,” Woolsey greeted wryly before redirecting his gaze to the ceiling. “Yes, Colonel, the east pier is ready, and personnel are headed your way to offload the supplies.” He paused, nodding. “I will see you then. Woolsey out.”
Rodney looked around in confusion. “Where is-”
A brilliant light filled the landing near the control center.
“-Carson.”
Beckett turned, a delighted grin on his face. “Always liked that better than going through the gate.” He stepped forward and offered his hand. “How are you, Rodney?”
McKay grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Good to see you.” He’d missed Carson, had gotten used to talking with him even in the stasis chamber. The nightmares had returned with a vengeance after Beckett had gone back to Earth.
Carson greeted Sheppard and Woolsey as they headed to the conference room. He heaved a sigh as he took a seat. “It seems the repercussions of my work on Hoff never end.”
“Dr. Beckett,” Woolsey began, “you were not to blame then, and you aren’t now, but we need your expertise in order to find a cure before this becomes widespread. I’m assuming you’ve had a chance to go over Dr. Keller’s research. She’s off-world at the moment, but we can contact her if we need to.”
“No need,” Carson replied. “I’ve studied what was sent, and I agree with her assessment - this is a mutation.”
“Any idea how to cure it, Doc?” Sheppard asked.
“Not yet. I’ve been working on a way to separate the protein from the body’s cells, but I haven’t had any success yet.”
Woolsey nodded thoughtfully. “Will that cure them?”
“It should,” Carson answered. “Once the protein is flushed from their systems, they should recover quickly. More importantly, if there is no protein to pass along-”
“-the disease stops spreading,” Rodney finished.
“Very well.” Woolsey stood. “I’ll leave you to your work. Notify me when you have something.”
Sheppard patted Beckett’s shoulder as he followed Woolsey out. “Good to have you back, Doc.”
Rodney grinned goofily at Beckett as the doors closed. “It really is good to see you.”
Carson smiled in understanding. “Come on, my friend. Let’s get a bite to eat while you catch me up on what I’ve missed the past few weeks.”
McKay’s face clouded over. “Elizabeth….” His throat closed up, and he blew out a breath. “She, um… she-”
“I know all about it. General Landry was gracious enough to tell me himself after it happened.”
“Carson-”
“It’s not your fault, Rodney.”
“Isn’t it?”
Carson pulled Rodney from his chair and steered him toward the transporter. “No, it isn’t. And when was the last time you slept? The bags under your eyes are bigger than the luggage I brought with me.”
Rodney smiled in spite of himself. “Oh, please. You probably packed enough to clothe the entire expedition.”
“Exactly my point.” The doors slid shut on the transporter, opening again to deposit them near the mess hall. “You and I are going to have lunch then you are going straight to your quarters for a nap while I get set up in the lab.”
“I just ate lunch.”
“Since when has that ever stopped you?”
“True.” Rodney rubbed his hands together and grabbed a tray. “Let’s eat.”
xxx
McKay clicked on email number three hundred sixty-four of the day when the conference room doors opened.
“I think I have something,” Carson announced as he entered.
“Just in time, Doc,” Sheppard remarked glumly. “We’ve got two more planets infected.”
Beckett glanced from one face to another in horror. “Really?”
“Please, take a seat, Doctor, and tell us what you’ve found,” Woolsey instructed.
“Preliminary tests show a ninety-three percent success rate in stripping the protein from the cells. But this has been in a lab. I need a few test subjects to try it on.”
“What are you suggesting?” Teyla asked.
“I want to go to one of the planets, find a handful of volunteers.”
Ronon leaned back in his chair. “You want to experiment on people?”
“It’s the only way to know if the cure is effective,” Beckett explained. “I need to monitor their reactions, make sure it’s not causing more harm than good.”
“What happens to the seven percent that the cure doesn’t work on?” Sheppard asked.
“I don’t plan on stopping until I can cure everyone.”
Woolsey’s eyes scanned the group, pausing when he reached McKay. Rodney’s gaze flicked to Carson - pale, new lines between his brows, hands that shook from too much coffee and not enough sleep - and back to Woolsey. He gave a slight nod.
“Very well, Doctor. Gather what you need. I’ll inform Dr. Keller. Colonel Sheppard, ready your team. You’ll be escorting Dr. Beckett to… M3T-988.”
Rodney jogged a few steps to catch up to Carson as everyone headed in different directions. “Are you sure about this?”
“Of course I’m sure. You don’t think I’d be wasting everyone’s time, do you?”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you… you know,” McKay waved vaguely, “up for this?”
Carson jerked to a stop and wheeled on Rodney. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. I need to do this. Can you understand that?”
McKay laughed bitterly. “More than you can possible imagine. You just look… tired.”
“I am tired - tired of watching people die because of my mistakes. I created the Hoffan drug. I created Michael. How many have to suffer for that?”
“Carson-”
“I’ll be fine. We’re just going to run a few tests, draw some blood. Now, grab your gear before Colonel Sheppard sends Ronon after you. I’ll meet you in the gateroom.”
Rodney watched Carson hurry away, the sinking feeling in his gut worsening. He made his way quickly to his lab to gather his tablet and a life signs detector then raced to the ready room before Sheppard got serious and sent Teyla instead. He snatched a tac vest, verifying its contents quickly, then clipped a P-90 to the front and buckled the thigh holster on, checking his Beretta’s ammunition before sliding it in the holster. Teyla smiled as she passed, and Ronon turned to follow her with Sheppard on his heels. Rodney purposefully checked his vest one more time before he felt the familiar grip of Ronon’s hand on his collar, pulling him to the gateroom.
He shrugged out of Ronon’s grasp and gave him a sideways glance. “Could you, uh, do me a favor?”
Ronon’s brows shot up, disappearing beneath his hair. “A favor. For you.”
“Well, not exactly for me. I’m, um, well, I don’t want to use the word ‘worried’ but-”
A big hand slapped Rodney’s shoulder. “I won’t let Beckett out of my sight.”
McKay breathed a small sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
Ronon grinned at him and ruffled his hair. Rodney pulled away, trying to hide a smile.
“Personal space, please.”
He ducked as Ronon swiped at him, having experienced more than his fair share of headlocks. Ronon’s chuckle rumbled in his chest as he passed, and Rodney suddenly wondered how many other people had ever heard Ronon laugh. Taking his place in the midst of his team, McKay smiled inwardly as Teyla moved aside and guided Carson to the middle as well. Being part of a team, being accepted, never got old. Maybe one day he’d find a way to tell them.
xxx
Rodney tossed the remnants of his MRE in the trash receptacle and ducked out of the military tent designated for meals and meetings, squinting into the morning sun. M3T-988 had shorter days than New Lantea - or Old Lantea for that matter - a mere sixteen hours. As screwed up as his sleep cycle already was, this might make his insomnia permanent. Sheppard had offered to let him go back to Atlantis, probably more out of annoyance than consideration, but Rodney had chosen to stay, citing an unusual energy reading. Which really did exist but was almost certainly attributable to the fluorescent plant life.
The neon pink leaves that opened at dusk lit the night sky and released a pungent odor similar to chlorine that lasted throughout the day. Sheer cliffs of a granite-like stone ringed the valley where the Souliv, the inhabitants of -988, had settled. People traveled from hundreds of worlds seeking this stone. According to Teyla, these people were more than cutters; they were artists.
A cool breeze hinted at approaching winter. Zipping his jacket, Rodney headed to the medical tent in search of Carson, nodding to Teyla as she completed her morning bantos stretches in the camp circle where a couple of Marines milled about. Another two were guarding the gate. Sheppard and Ronon were no doubt trying to run each other into the ground like they did every day. Crazy-assed soldiers. Brushing the flap aside, he found Carson inside with his face glued to a microscope. A couple of nurses bustled in the background, drawing blood and taking vitals from the smattering of natives slumped on cots. Rodney wrinkled his nose, trying not to breathe in any germs as he sat down next to Beckett.
“How’s it going?”
Carson rubbed red-rimmed eyes. “Better. Symptoms only now. The last test results showed an absence of the protein in everyone but Tesdril.” He pointed to a listless girl of about five. “She’s dying, Rodney,” he whispered, “and I can’t stop it.”
McKay pasted on a smile. “We’ve only been here three days. You’ll get it.”
“Not in time for her. She won’t last the day.” Tears welled in Carson’s eyes. “I killed her.”
Leaning forward intently, Rodney said, “No. You didn’t.”
“Oh, Rodney. You know I did. All of this is my fault.”
McKay glanced away, wishing for once to have Teyla’s gift of comfort. “Carson, you had no way of knowing this would happen.”
“Didn’t I? When Michael told me to make the serum, I could have refused.”
“Could you have refused? Really? You told us he has some control over you.”
“He had to kill a girl in front of me before I agreed to help him. He might be able to stop me from doing something I want, but I don’t think he can force me to do something I don’t want. Regardless, I could have tried. I knew what would happen.”
Rodney caught movement from the corner of his eye. One of the patients shuffled by, hacking into a rag that came away bloody.
McKay scooted closer to Beckett and lowered his voice. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. Right now you need to concentrate on the cure.”
Carson nodded, swiping angrily at his cheek and taking a deep breath. “I know. I’m trying. Thanks, Rodney.”
His face flushed at the heartfelt gratitude, and a lopsided grin appeared as he clapped Beckett’s shoulder. “Well, you know….” He bit back the glib retort, the one he would have made before he lost two of his best friends, and cleared his throat, searching for words, failing to find them, finally settling on, “You’re welcome.”
“Dr. Beckett,” the nurse’s voice was calm but insistent, “we need you.”
The little girl arched off the bed, breath gurgling in her throat. The nurse held her tightly as she smoothed her hair and stroked her face. Carson dashed over, dropping to one knee to press the bell of his stethoscope to her chest. His shoulders slumped.
Her breathing hitched, slowed, stopped.
Beckett’s body trembled as he touched his forehead to hers momentarily. Pulling away, he nodded to the nurse who scooped the girl in her arms and carried her to a curtained-off section. Rodney stood frozen, his horror at the child’s death magnified by the strength of Carson’s grief. Suddenly cognizant of being observed, McKay stepped forward, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Come on,” Rodney said gently. “Let’s take a walk.”
Beckett wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded, allowing Rodney to pull him to his feet and guide him out of the tent. They wandered down a hard-packed trail through an orchard to a nearby stream. Settling on a boulder, Carson drew his knees to his chest then folded his arms on top of them, burying his face. Rodney let him, using the rushing water and gentle whisper of the wind as white noise while he ran a few mental calculations on the Wraith tech data Elizabeth had left him.
“Did your Beckett regret what he’d done?”
Rodney jerked at the question. “’My Beckett?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The real one, the original. I guess technically he’s the one who did this even though I clearly remember it. Did it eat at him? Did he have nightmares? Did he curse the day he walked through the gate to Atlantis?”
McKay gaped at him. “I- I had no idea you felt that way.”
“I’m asking how he felt.”
“I don’t know. I mean, we were so busy. I- We got sent back to Earth. Did I tell you that?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not.” Rodney stood then turned to face him. “Cars- um, he went home, worked at the SGC, spent time with his- your family. He wasn’t held prisoner or forced to work for a madman. I know he regretted what happened on Hoff - you know that - but he had no idea that Michael had survived that planet. He… died before we discovered Michael was still alive.”
“So, he never knew what he’d done.”
“No. Carson, I-”
“What happened to Katie?”
Rodney blinked. “What?”
“Katie Brown. You had quite the crush as I remember. What happened?”
McKay sat down with a wry grin. “I screwed up. As usual. You know me and people.”
Carson turned to him, a thoughtful expression on his face as he scrutinized McKay. “Tell me.”
Haltingly, the story spilled. Words were Rodney’s specialty but not when combined with emotions. He took consolation in the fact that at least Sheppard was worse than he was. But Carson needed the distraction so Rodney talked - about Katie and Kolya and Todd and Replicators and Sateda and nanites and Elizabeth.
He was describing in detail the beautiful painting Harmony had commissioned when his comm sparked to life. “Rodney, is Dr. Beckett with you?”
Teyla’s voice was low, calm, and measured. Which meant big trouble.
“Yes,” he answered. “What’s wrong?”
“The Souliv are searching for him. They believe him to be responsible for the disease.You must get him to the gate before they find him.”
“Me? What about-”
Teyla’s breathing quickened. “I must go. They have taken Ronon and John. Get Cars-”
A cry sounded followed by several thuds. A shout of pain. Then nothing.
“Teyla!” Rodney leapt to his feet, hand cupped around the earpiece. “Teyla!” He turned to Carson, wide-eyed. “We have to go now.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I think the natives attacked our people.”
“We need to help them. There might be wounded.”
McKay ran his hands over his jacket. No tac vest. No P-90. Not even a life signs detector. All he had was a nine mil strapped to his thigh with no extra ammo. “No. We have to get to the gate, get help.”
“Rodney-”
He pulled the handgun and chambered a round, holding it to his side as he crept toward the edge of the orchard. “I can’t protect you, Carson. They’ve got Sheppard and Ronon. I don’t stand a chance against them head on. We need backup.”
“You call for help. I’ll see to the injured.”
“Dammit, Carson, they’re looking for you. And I’m not- I can’t- not again. Now, come on.”
Beckett stopped. “Me? Why-” He gasped. “Oh, God. They know, don’t they? That I created this?”
“I don’t know what they know.” Rodney grabbed his arm and jerked him forward. “We have to go.”
They skirted the edge of the orchard, moving as silently as they could which still sounded like a freight train to McKay’s ears. If- when they got back, he was definitely going to start those lessons with Ronon again. He stopped, searching for a way to get through the settlement to the gate on the other side without being seen. Angry voices carried on the wind, and he caught a glimpse of movement between the tents. Two of the village elders tossed an unconscious Ronon forward. Rodney dropped to the ground, crabbing through the prairie grass toward the camp.
“What are you doing?” Carson hissed, scrabbling behind him. “I thought we were going for help.”
McKay glanced from Beckett to the clearing and back. “My team,” he whispered then hung his head, eyes closed, knowing what they would say, what Teyla had already told him. He nodded to Carson. “We are. Let’s get out of here.”
They crawled through the field, hurrying as fast as they could without overly disturbing the waist-high grass. Voices surrounded them as the Souliv continued their search. Rodney halted randomly as he’d been taught, straining to identify which direction the natives were headed. A rustling nearby froze him. Another whisper had him pulling his gun, bracing his wrist, his breath hissing between clenched teeth. The grass in front of his swayed, parted, and a small hand gently pushed the muzzle to the ground.
“Oh, God, Teyla. I could have killed you.” Rodney squinted at the blood that trickled from her temple. “Are you okay?”
“I will be fine,” she whispered, moving stiffly toward them, favoring her right side. “We must hurry.”
“What happened?” Carson asked.
Teyla smiled dangerously. “Two of the Souliv men… misjudged my abilities.”
Rodney wondered if they had any teeth left. “Sheppard and Ronon?”
“From what I can tell, they were ambushed. Pelted with rocks.”
Something deep inside McKay grew cold, brittle. His voice shook as he asked, “Are they…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.
“I believe they are still alive.” Teyla rolled her neck, massaged a muscle. “I’m not sure about the Marines. Now, we must go.”
The voices grew louder, turned in their direction. Rodney’s gaze swept Teyla. Most of the time when he looked at her he saw a friend, a sister. But sometimes, he saw her as others might - beautiful, fierce, a warrior. Even injured she stood the best chance of getting help. She was still wearing her midriff shirt and BDUs but had no vest, radio, or visible weapon. Blood streaked her face, her skin mottled in places. Carson was studying her with a professional eye, seemingly unmindful of the coming danger.
The footsteps grew closer.
A man can do unbelievable things with the proper motivation.
Rodney clenched his eyes shut, jumbled memories of a cave and a shrine in Wraith territory filling his mind. He could do this. He had to do this. Teyla could protect Carson and bring help but not if she got caught. And she would never willingly leave him behind.
He gathered his legs underneath him and handed her his gun. “Get Carson home,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Carson gaped at him. “What are you doing?”
“Creating a diversion.”
“Rodney!” Teyla hissed.
Everything in him screamed for him to drop on his belly and pretend to be invisible. Instead, he memorized every line in their faces. Taking a deep breath, he leapt up and ran.
“There!” one of the Souliv called, giving chase.
Being a genius had many privileges, but running like the wind was not one of them. Still, he pumped his arms, legs pounding as fast as he could. Shouts swirled around him, but he kept going, drawing them as far from Teyla, Carson, and the gate as he could. The Souliv fired confiscated P-90s wildly in every direction, most of the shots coming nowhere near him. But automatic weapons could find a target even in the most inexperienced of hands.
He felt the bullet’s impact first. His left shoulder jerked forward as the projectile hit and exited. Then the pain came - shards of it radiating in every direction, fire racing down incensed nerve endings. He stumbled forward, crashing to the ground with a strangled cry. His team flashed in his mind - risking everything for a jumper ride in Wraith territory to have one more day with him. Him.
Rodney staggered to his feet and fixed his eyes on the tree line, determined to not fail them. The next bullet clipped his side, but he didn’t break stride. He was Ronon running from the Wraith. His legs burned; his lungs withered. Teyla searching for her missing people. A third bullet ripped through the back of his thigh. He fell, hard. Sheppard never giving up. Ever. Unable to walk, Rodney crawled, dragging his bad leg behind him. Carson… Elizabeth… Maybe a man really could carry his team on his back in a blizzard.
He never saw the blow coming, unconscious before he hit the ground.
xxx
Icy water slapped Rodney in the face, jerking him back to consciousness. Agony raged in his shoulder and ripped the breath from his lungs. Gasping, he blinked away the spots that danced in his vision, and a face slowly came into focus. Not a face he recognized.
“He’s awake,” the man announced.
Another man, pale and thin, shuffled in. “That’s the wrong one.”
Rodney blinked rapidly, trying to clear his mind. This face was familiar.
“What do you mean ‘the wrong one?’ Dark hair, blue eyes. That’s what you said.”
“This one isn’t the doctor who’s been treating us.”
Shuffling patient, hacking into a bloody rag.
“You… son of a… bitch,” Rodney mumbled. “We were… trying to help.”
“I heard him,” the patient barked. “He said he created it.”
McKay shook his head. “Moron.”
“Bring the other two.” The first man squatted next to him as two others hurried from the room. “Where is the doctor?”
Rodney closed his eyes and turned his head away. His side throbbed, and his leg was sticky and numb from his hip to his ankle. Numb? Had the bullet hit an artery? No, of course not. He’d be dead already if it had. But he was probably going to lose the leg. Maybe he’d finally win that pot from Zelenka.
“Where is he?” the man repeated.
“Where you’ll… never find him.”
“What is the address?”
“I have no idea… what you’re talking… about.”
The man stood, placing a boot on McKay’s injured shoulder. “The address,” he repeated, grinding his heel into the wound.
Rodney choked on a scream as his body spasmed. He squirmed weakly, fingernails gouging the wooden floor, trying to get away, to find relief from the pain that exploded from his ear to his fingers.
“Tell me,” the man insisted.
The pressure eased for a moment then redoubled as the man twisted his heel into the wound again.
“No,” Rodney whispered.
The man stepped off, kicking McKay in his injured side as he walked away. Rodney gagged, curling slightly as he willed his stomach to stay where it was. Breathing shallowly, he glanced around. A small room, bare, made of wood, dirty windows, needing a coat of paint and central heating. The man and the patient huddled in a corner, whispering. The door flew open, and one of the men from earlier staggered in, his nose bloody and a Sheppard-sized boot print on his back. Rodney sagged in relief.
The three men argued quietly then the first man turned, a small brown bottle in his hand. He knelt next to Rodney, giving a cold smile while twisting the lid off.
“You are going to tell me everything you know.”
Rodney huffed a laugh. “Really? Where would you like to start? The evolution of proto-stellar disks? How about the feedback from galactic fountains in proto-galaxies?”
“You’re friends are dead.”
“Did they die before or after they kicked the shit out of your friends?”
“Don’t make me kill you.”
“I won’t tell you anything.”
“Yes, you will.”
The man held the bottle over McKay’s shoulder and tilted it until a putrid green liquid trickled out. The second it hit, agony roared through Rodney’s body. He arched off the ground, his scream reverberating in the room, his vision swimming as tears leaked out. The men held him down as the bottle upended again. Excruciating pain racked him, nerves shrieking in protest as his torso convulsed.
“What is the address of your home?”
His vision grew red, hazy. “One seven Wildrose Lane.”
Liquid poured on his side, his thigh. “The address!”
“Vancouver,” he gasped. “British Columbia.”
The bottle emptied. Darkness claimed him.
xxx
Hands on him, on his arms and legs, touching his face and neck and chest. Rodney moaned in protest, too weak to push them away, too afraid to open his eyes. He held tightly to the image of a Genii blade piercing his skin and shattering his resolve. Never again.
“Won’t tell you,” Rodney whispered.
Distorted voices. Cold air. Strong arms lifting him.
“No, no, please. No more,” he begged.
“McKay.” A low rumble, familiar, protective. Safe.
“Ronon?” Rodney cracked his lids open as a dreadlock tickled his nose. Ronon smiled down at him. Dark bruises stained his teammate’s forehead and cheek, a long gash extending from temple to jaw. “You look terrible.”
Ronon snorted, the amusement not reaching his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”
Sleep tugged at Rodney, and he relaxed into it then suddenly jerked awake. “Carson? Teyla? Sheppard?”
“They’re fine,” Ronon assured him. “Beckett’s waiting in the jumper. Teyla and Sheppard were searching the other buildings. They’re on their way.”
The numbness from his leg had spread throughout his body. Blood loss and torture had taken their toll on him, and the hypoglycemia wasn’t helping. Was he dying?
Rodney forced his eyes to focus. “Would you do me a favor?”
“Name it.”
Oh, God, he was dying. “Tell Sheppard-” Goodbye. “-that if he finds snow in his quarters-” Take care of each other. “-Radek did it.” I’ll miss you.
“McKay?”
His lids grew heavier. The numbness turned cold, creeping up his limbs into his chest.
“McKay!”
Ronon’s face blurred, dimmed.
“Rodney!”
Jostling, bouncing, panting, shouting.
Nothing.
xxx
He was on fire, burning alive from the inside out. Rodney whimpered as the beeps and hisses around him grew louder, more erratic. He thrashed, panicked. Soft fingers brushed through his hair. A cool cloth caressed his face. Unknown words soothed him, chasing away the demons from his nightmares. The flames licked at him, kept at bay by an iciness that suddenly blanketed him. Gentle hands steadied him as he shook, pain blossoming in his shoulder, his leg, his chest. Then mercy coursed through his veins and swept him away.
xxx
Voices from his dreams pulled him to wakefulness.
One gentle and feminine. “… not your fault.”
“Told him I wouldn’t let Beckett out of my sight.” A deep, masculine rumble.
“You were ambushed, Ronon. No one blames you.”
“I blame me. McKay-”
“-is trying to sleep,” Rodney murmured as he rolled his head toward them, blinking slowly. “Hey.”
Teyla’s smile lit the room. “It is good to see you awake, Rodney. Let me get Dr. Keller.”
“She’s right, you know,” Rodney said after Teyla disappeared around the corner. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Ronon refused to meet his gaze. “I got careless.”
“You got hit in the head with a rock. Though as hard as your head is, I’m surprised the rock won.”
Ronon’s lips twitched. “Who says it did?”
“Oh, ow, don’t make me laugh. What’s wrong with my chest?”
“Operation. Something about mobile bone shards. Keller will have to explain it.”
“Where’s Sheppard?”
“Keller kicked him out about an hour ago. Told him not to come back until he’d slept for at least four hours.”
Rodney yawned, exhaustion and drugs dragging him toward sleep. “How long has he been here?”
“Since we got you back. Five days ago.”
“Five days? He’s been here for five days?”
Ronon’s gaze met his. “We all have.”
xxx
McKay jerked awake with a strangled cry. Strong hands grasped his arms. He twisted, struggling to get away.
“No!” he screamed. “No more! Let me go!”
The hands disappeared. “Easy, buddy. Relax.” A hazy shadow solidified. “You’re home, safe.”
“John?”
Sheppard nodded, his smile forced. “That’s right. You okay?”
Rodney slumped back against the pillow, his adrenaline gone. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad dream.”
A chair scraped the floor, and Sheppard took a seat. “I hear you.”
The infirmary was dimmed to night levels. “What time is it?”
Sheppard squinted at his watch. “Oh-four-thirty.”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I was until you woke me up.”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I meant in your quarters. Keller’s going to sedate you if you aren’t careful.” He scrutinized Sheppard for a moment. Dark circles, new lines etched around his eyes, heavy growth of beard even for him. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
Emotion flickered across Sheppard’s face, an emotion Rodney couldn’t quite identify. He braced himself for a chewing out. He wasn’t sure if John and Ronon had escaped before or after he’d left Teyla, but it probably didn’t matter. They’d had to risk their lives to rescue him regardless.
But the reprimand didn’t come.
John leaned back, crossed his arms, and propped his feet on the end of Rodney’s bed. “Get some sleep, McKay.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“What makes you think something’s wrong with me?”
“Five years of being on your team.”
“McKay,” John sighed, “do you really want to talk about this now?”
“Yes. Usually you-”
Rodney broke off as the emotion flickered again, staying longer this time. Suddenly he knew where he’d seen it before. It was the same expression John had worn when that parasite had been lodged in Rodney’s brain and when Ronon had been in withdrawal from the Wraith enzyme and when Elizabeth had stepped through to the space gate and when Teyla had gone missing. Fear and loss. Fear of loss.
“You know, never mind. We can talk about it later.”
Sheppard didn’t seem to hear. “You don’t have anything to prove, you know.”
“I know.”
“I mean, we trust you to do your job, to pull our asses out of the fire with that big brain of yours.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“You’re a scientist not a soldier.”
“Gee, thanks for letting me know. I had forgotten what all those letters after my name meant.”
“You were talking earlier. When you were dreaming.”
Rodney grew still as pain shot through his shoulder at the thought of a green liquid and a boot heel. “And….”
“And you don’t have to worry about carrying us. We’re a team. We take care of each other.”
McKay could feel the flush climbing up his neck. “I- I, uh-”
Sheppard leaned forward, eyes intense. “What you did was very brave, Rodney. Don’t do it again.”
“Okay.” Rodney hoped to never see that look on Sheppard’s face again. “How’s Carson?”
“Did I hear my name?” Beckett’s head peeked around the corner. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”
John stood, patting Rodney’s arm. “Think I’ll catch a couple of winks. G’night, McKay. ‘Night, Doc.”
Rodney ran a quick eye over Beckett. The permanent stress lines were there, but otherwise he seemed in good health. “How are you?”
Carson sat in the chair Sheppard had left. “Doing fine. The serum I developed worked on all the infected worlds, and we’ve immunized everyone here, the Athosians, and all our trading partners.” Beckett’s relief was palpable. “I think we may have beaten it.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yes, it is.” Carson glanced away then back. “Rodney, I don’t know what to say. What you did….”
The flush returned as McKay waved vaguely. “Yeah, well…. I see Teyla got you home.”
“Indeed she did. She took three teams of Marines back and found John and Ronon almost to the gate. The Marines that had been captured with them were tied up at the campsite. Something in the rock made it hard to locate your sub-cu transmitter so they had to search every building.” Carson studied him thoughtfully. “You’ve changed, you know.”
Rodney glanced at him in surprise. “In a… good way?”
“Yes. I… saw what they did to you, what you went through to save me-”
“Can we not talk about it?”
Carson nodded. “Of course, my friend.” He settled back in the chair. “Now, as I recall, you were telling me about a lovely painting that a young lady named Harmony had done.”
Rodney grinned. “I’ve even got pictures.”
The end.
Author: wildcat88
Rating: PG
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, Carson, Keller, Woolsey
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers through The Shrine
Request: prompt by linziday
Summary: A man can do unbelievable things with the proper motivation. Even Rodney McKay.
A/N: Thanks to leesa_perrie for the lightening fast beta. All mistakes mine.
“Oh, come on,” McKay scoffed, wiping the sweat from his eyes. “You’re making that up.”
Ronon slashed at the vegetation with Tyre’s sword. “Nope. Dalem is a legend among Satedans. He carried his entire team on his back through the mountain pass during a blizzard.”
The gulp from his canteen didn’t mar Rodney’s eye roll. “All three of them. In a blizzard.”
“Five. Satedan teams are made up of six warriors.”
Rodney shot a glance at Sheppard who was innocently studying the jungle canopy while Teyla pretended to reband her hair.
“Riiiight. Five men. On his back. In a blizzard.” McKay pulled out his tablet and made great show of scrolling through several screens. “Oh, look. That bridge is still for sale. Think I should buy it?”
Ronon shrugged. “A man can do unbelievable things with the proper motivation.”
Rodney’s scanner beeped. He paused, frowning at it as he adjusted the settings. “The energy readings are still fluctuating, but I think we’re headed in the right direction.”
Sheppard arched a brow behind his aviator shades. “You think.”
“Yes, I think. It’s like tracing an echo to its source.”
McKay ignored Sheppard’s smirk as the tramp through Jurassic Park continued. A fly-over in the jumper had yielded ruins scattered throughout the overgrown rainforest, and the HUD had shown abundant life signs. They had parked the small ship as close as they could, not encountering anything larger than a hippo-sized duck that startled out of the water when they landed nearby. Rodney had gawked as the unwieldy mass lifted gracefully into the air, seeming to defy all he knew of physics. Some days he couldn’t believe he actually got paid to do this job.
“Rodney?” Teyla called. “You should see this.”
He followed her over the moss-carpeted forest floor and through a veil of ferns, the damp foliage reeking of decayed leaves and fresh loam. A stone column was wedged between two trees, Ancient symbols almost completely weathered away. He pulled out his camera, capturing as much of it as he could.
“What does it say?” Ronon asked.
Rodney ran his fingers over the markings, trying to imagine the missing pieces. “I’m not sure. Some of the more important parts have crumbled away.”
“I don’t suppose it’s directions to the nearest ZPM,” Sheppard said.
“Of course. It says right here, ‘Follow the yellow brick road.’”
“You’re a riot, McKay.”
“I’ll be here all week.”
Sheppard snorted. “That’s entirely possible if you don’t come up with something more.”
“The words I can decipher don’t make any sense. Sunrise, void, magma, forest, warship-”
“Warship?” Ronon stepped around him, studying the column intently.
“Stop drooling. I told you it doesn’t make any sense. From what I can tell, it says, ‘The sunrise in the void something something something magma forest over the warship.’”
“No directions to the warship?” Sheppard asked.
“What is it with you and directions today?” Rodney sniped. “Look around. Do you see a magma forest anywhere? You know how the Ancients were about décor and… and….”
“Energy readings?”
“What? Oh. They’re still bouncing around like crazy.” McKay circled the area, waving his scanner at the column, the trees, Ronon. “Nothing concrete. I can’t-”
Screeching filled the air - inhuman and angry. As one, they glanced up. The hippo-duck had brought friends. Hundreds circled above them, the roar of their wings adding to the cacophony.
“John,” Teyla said calmly, “perhaps we should….”
“Yeah, exactly what I was thinking,” Sheppard replied. “Ronon, you take point. Look as meek and harmless as possible.”
Rodney tucked his scanner in a pocket and followed Ronon through the jungle, Teyla and Sheppard close enough behind him that he could feel their breath on his neck. Their proximity and the thickness of the vegetation around him pricked at his claustrophobia. He focused on one of Ronon’s dreads, concentrating on breathing through his nose. He knew they were not only making the smallest target possible, they were protecting him. His life - his off-world life anyway - was spent surrounded by his teammates; he was always in the center. The tension in his chest eased slightly as the thought of ‘safe’ replaced ‘crowded.’
The hippo-ducks followed them to the clearing, the squawking and flapping growing louder as the forest thinned. Sheppard remotely opened the rear hatch as a particularly large fowl swooped toward them then veered off.
“Run!” Sheppard shouted.
Ronon took off like a shot then turned to grab McKay’s vest and drag him along. Rodney did his best to keep his feet under him, hearing Teyla and Sheppard pounding along behind them. Ronon threw him bodily inside the jumper then braced at the end of the ramp, blaster drawn, to cover Sheppard and Teyla. Rodney ran to the pilot’s seat and fired up the engines, moving rapidly out of the way as Sheppard skidded to a stop and dropped into the chair. The ramp was still closing when the jumper rose into the air.
“Watch out!” Rodney warned when one of the birds dive-bombed them.
Sheppard cloaked the jumper as he banked sharply right, the inertial dampeners struggling to keep up. They bobbed and weaved their way through the flock, barely missing two exceptionally large hippo-ducks. Rodney pulled out his camera, determined to photograph one of them to prove to Radek that he didn’t make up stuff like this. He aimed carefully as a bird rose before them only to have the view blur as Sheppard turned the jumper’s nose to space.
“Aw, come on. One lousy picture was all I needed.”
Sheppard smirked as the jumper arced gracefully and headed back down to the gate. “Maybe next time, McKay.”
“But you’re going to back me up this time, right?” Rodney quickly tapped in Atlantis’ gate address. “When I tell Zelenka about the hippo-ducks.”
“What hippo-ducks? Ronon, did you see anything like that?”
“Don’t know what a hippo-duck is.”
“Teyla?” Sheppard lined the jumper with the gate and plunged through.
“I must have been looking in a different direction.”
Rodney sulked as they rose through the gateroom to the jumper bay. “I can’t believe you guys. Do you know what the pot is up to these days?”
Sheppard grinned at him. “Yep.”
“You bet against me?” McKay gaped at him. “That’s… that’s just… rude.”
“Ow. Watch out for that rapier wit.” Sheppard chuckled. “Besides, imagine what the pot will be next time.”
“Don’t even try making excuses.” Rodney followed Teyla down the ramp and toward the stairs. “I’m not interested.”
Woolsey was waiting for them in the control room. “Welcome back. I need all of you in the conference room now.”
Rodney exchanged a worried glance with Sheppard as they crossed to the conference room and took a seat.
“We’ve had some disturbing reports from a couple of off-world teams,” Woolsey said. “I asked Dr. Keller to double check the results. She should be here any minute.”
The doors slid open, and Jennifer Keller hurried in, her hair haphazardly clipped at the nape of her neck and violet smudges under her eyes.
“I’m sorry to be late. I ran the data a third time to be sure.” Keller dropped in a chair, exhaustion and discouragement vying for top place in her frame. “It’s definitely the Hoffan virus. It’s popped up on three worlds not previously affected.”
Groans echoed around the table.
“So, Michael’s back,” Sheppard surmised.
“Not necessarily,” Keller said. “This version of the virus is a mutation.”
Woolsey sat up straighter and tugged on his jacket. “How so?”
“Before now, it had to be introduced through the water or food supply. This strain seems to be communicable. The worlds recently infected are close trading partners, and only a small portion of the population is infected.”
“Meaning….” Sheppard prompted.
“It’s not airborne. At least not yet. It’s probably spread like a cold or the flu - through personal contact.”
Rodney wiped his hands on his pant legs, making a mental note to order more hand sanitizer. “And we can do what about this?”
Keller sighed heavily. “Not much. We never found a cure.” She turned to Woolsey. “If this continues to spread, we will have a galaxy-wide epidemic. Eventually someone we know will catch it - the Athosians, the Genii, the Manarans. We need to stop this now. If it reaches Atlantis….”
“What do you suggest, Doctor?”
“We need to get out there, help these people, take samples, do what we can to find a cure.” She held Woolsey’s eye. “And it would help to have the designer of the virus here.”
“What?” Rodney squeaked. “Are you serious?”
Jennifer leaned on the table, determined. “Carson is the best hope we have of figuring this out, and you know it.”
“He’s still recovering.”
“He can work in a comfortable lab at his own pace-”
“Oh, come on,” McKay protested. “He’ll work himself into the ground. That’s the way he is. You saw him last time.”
“I know what I’m asking, Rodney. I also know how guilty Carson felt about creating this virus.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No, not the first time,” Keller conceded. “But I sat next to him in a lab for hours at a time when we got him back.” Her voice softened. “It all came spilling out one day, like he’d bottled it up and the cork had finally popped. I was the one who happened to be in the room. When he finds out more people are dying… and he will….”
“It will kill him.” Rodney clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. “He doesn’t deserve this.”
Woolsey’s eyes flicked around the table then settled on Keller. “It will take almost three weeks to get him here. Are you sure there’s no other way?”
“I worked for weeks on this before with absolutely nothing to show for it. I can send the latest results for him to work on during his trip. I can’t promise that even with his help we’ll be able to figure it out, but it’s the best chance we have.”
After scribbling a few notes, Woolsey nodded. “The resources of Atlantis are at your disposal, Doctor. Do whatever it takes to stop this. Dr. McKay, make sure Atlantis’ quarantine protocols recognize and react to this new version of the Hoffan virus. Colonel Sheppard, please coordinate security details for the medical teams going off-world. Teyla, Ronon, notify any contacts you have to stay clear of these worlds until further notice. Thank you, everyone.”
xxx
“Here.”
Rodney glanced up to find Sheppard dangling a sandwich in front of him. “What’s this for?”
“You.” Sheppard dropped the sandwich next to the keyboard and added a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and an apple. “You missed lunch. Again.”
“Really?” McKay unwrapped the sandwich and took a huge bite, his stomach gurgling in anticipation. “Guess you’re right.”
Sheppard straddled the chair next to him, studying the monitors. “Find anything?”
“Nothing. I’ve been staring at this data for seventeen-”
“Eighteen.”
“-eighteen days straight now, and I haven’t found one thing that will help us. Every chemist I have has been going over it along with the biologists, zoologists, and every other -ologist here.” Rodney chugged half the water. “There has to be an answer somewhere.”
“You know that working until you drop isn’t going to solve anything, right?”
Rodney hunched over, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe.”
“McKay.” Sheppard turned, tugging at Rodney’s arm until he faced him. “The last thing we need is you guest starring in the infirmary from driving yourself too hard. It’s okay for you not to have the answer to this. Being a genius doesn’t make you omniscient.”
The muscles bunched in Rodney’s neck and shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, of course not. Who would ever think such a thing?” He crammed a handful of chips in his mouth, talking around them. “By the way, who’s winning the tournament?”
“Teyla.”
“Of course. Why anyone would play poker with her is beyond me.”
The citywide crackled to life. “Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard to the gateroom.”
Rodney sighed, stuffing the apple in his jacket pocket and finishing off the water. “Guess he’s here.”
“Guess so.” Sheppard punched his arm playfully. “Come on then.”
“Did you strike me? I’m going to file a complaint.” McKay hopped off the stool and followed Sheppard to the transporter.
“Riiiight. Be sure you take pictures.”
“Ha ha. Have you forgotten who controls the life support systems here?”
Sheppard tapped the transporter controls. “Gonna shut off my oxygen?”
“Nope.” Rodney stepped out on the gateroom level. “Your temperature controls. See how you like Arizona in July.”
“There’s a threat,” Sheppard snorted as they crossed to the control room. “I lived in Afghanistan for two years.”
“What about-”
“And Antarctica for the next year.”
“Good point. Cold showers?”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Grunt.”
“Geek.”
“Gentlemen,” Woolsey greeted wryly before redirecting his gaze to the ceiling. “Yes, Colonel, the east pier is ready, and personnel are headed your way to offload the supplies.” He paused, nodding. “I will see you then. Woolsey out.”
Rodney looked around in confusion. “Where is-”
A brilliant light filled the landing near the control center.
“-Carson.”
Beckett turned, a delighted grin on his face. “Always liked that better than going through the gate.” He stepped forward and offered his hand. “How are you, Rodney?”
McKay grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Good to see you.” He’d missed Carson, had gotten used to talking with him even in the stasis chamber. The nightmares had returned with a vengeance after Beckett had gone back to Earth.
Carson greeted Sheppard and Woolsey as they headed to the conference room. He heaved a sigh as he took a seat. “It seems the repercussions of my work on Hoff never end.”
“Dr. Beckett,” Woolsey began, “you were not to blame then, and you aren’t now, but we need your expertise in order to find a cure before this becomes widespread. I’m assuming you’ve had a chance to go over Dr. Keller’s research. She’s off-world at the moment, but we can contact her if we need to.”
“No need,” Carson replied. “I’ve studied what was sent, and I agree with her assessment - this is a mutation.”
“Any idea how to cure it, Doc?” Sheppard asked.
“Not yet. I’ve been working on a way to separate the protein from the body’s cells, but I haven’t had any success yet.”
Woolsey nodded thoughtfully. “Will that cure them?”
“It should,” Carson answered. “Once the protein is flushed from their systems, they should recover quickly. More importantly, if there is no protein to pass along-”
“-the disease stops spreading,” Rodney finished.
“Very well.” Woolsey stood. “I’ll leave you to your work. Notify me when you have something.”
Sheppard patted Beckett’s shoulder as he followed Woolsey out. “Good to have you back, Doc.”
Rodney grinned goofily at Beckett as the doors closed. “It really is good to see you.”
Carson smiled in understanding. “Come on, my friend. Let’s get a bite to eat while you catch me up on what I’ve missed the past few weeks.”
McKay’s face clouded over. “Elizabeth….” His throat closed up, and he blew out a breath. “She, um… she-”
“I know all about it. General Landry was gracious enough to tell me himself after it happened.”
“Carson-”
“It’s not your fault, Rodney.”
“Isn’t it?”
Carson pulled Rodney from his chair and steered him toward the transporter. “No, it isn’t. And when was the last time you slept? The bags under your eyes are bigger than the luggage I brought with me.”
Rodney smiled in spite of himself. “Oh, please. You probably packed enough to clothe the entire expedition.”
“Exactly my point.” The doors slid shut on the transporter, opening again to deposit them near the mess hall. “You and I are going to have lunch then you are going straight to your quarters for a nap while I get set up in the lab.”
“I just ate lunch.”
“Since when has that ever stopped you?”
“True.” Rodney rubbed his hands together and grabbed a tray. “Let’s eat.”
xxx
McKay clicked on email number three hundred sixty-four of the day when the conference room doors opened.
“I think I have something,” Carson announced as he entered.
“Just in time, Doc,” Sheppard remarked glumly. “We’ve got two more planets infected.”
Beckett glanced from one face to another in horror. “Really?”
“Please, take a seat, Doctor, and tell us what you’ve found,” Woolsey instructed.
“Preliminary tests show a ninety-three percent success rate in stripping the protein from the cells. But this has been in a lab. I need a few test subjects to try it on.”
“What are you suggesting?” Teyla asked.
“I want to go to one of the planets, find a handful of volunteers.”
Ronon leaned back in his chair. “You want to experiment on people?”
“It’s the only way to know if the cure is effective,” Beckett explained. “I need to monitor their reactions, make sure it’s not causing more harm than good.”
“What happens to the seven percent that the cure doesn’t work on?” Sheppard asked.
“I don’t plan on stopping until I can cure everyone.”
Woolsey’s eyes scanned the group, pausing when he reached McKay. Rodney’s gaze flicked to Carson - pale, new lines between his brows, hands that shook from too much coffee and not enough sleep - and back to Woolsey. He gave a slight nod.
“Very well, Doctor. Gather what you need. I’ll inform Dr. Keller. Colonel Sheppard, ready your team. You’ll be escorting Dr. Beckett to… M3T-988.”
Rodney jogged a few steps to catch up to Carson as everyone headed in different directions. “Are you sure about this?”
“Of course I’m sure. You don’t think I’d be wasting everyone’s time, do you?”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you… you know,” McKay waved vaguely, “up for this?”
Carson jerked to a stop and wheeled on Rodney. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. I need to do this. Can you understand that?”
McKay laughed bitterly. “More than you can possible imagine. You just look… tired.”
“I am tired - tired of watching people die because of my mistakes. I created the Hoffan drug. I created Michael. How many have to suffer for that?”
“Carson-”
“I’ll be fine. We’re just going to run a few tests, draw some blood. Now, grab your gear before Colonel Sheppard sends Ronon after you. I’ll meet you in the gateroom.”
Rodney watched Carson hurry away, the sinking feeling in his gut worsening. He made his way quickly to his lab to gather his tablet and a life signs detector then raced to the ready room before Sheppard got serious and sent Teyla instead. He snatched a tac vest, verifying its contents quickly, then clipped a P-90 to the front and buckled the thigh holster on, checking his Beretta’s ammunition before sliding it in the holster. Teyla smiled as she passed, and Ronon turned to follow her with Sheppard on his heels. Rodney purposefully checked his vest one more time before he felt the familiar grip of Ronon’s hand on his collar, pulling him to the gateroom.
He shrugged out of Ronon’s grasp and gave him a sideways glance. “Could you, uh, do me a favor?”
Ronon’s brows shot up, disappearing beneath his hair. “A favor. For you.”
“Well, not exactly for me. I’m, um, well, I don’t want to use the word ‘worried’ but-”
A big hand slapped Rodney’s shoulder. “I won’t let Beckett out of my sight.”
McKay breathed a small sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
Ronon grinned at him and ruffled his hair. Rodney pulled away, trying to hide a smile.
“Personal space, please.”
He ducked as Ronon swiped at him, having experienced more than his fair share of headlocks. Ronon’s chuckle rumbled in his chest as he passed, and Rodney suddenly wondered how many other people had ever heard Ronon laugh. Taking his place in the midst of his team, McKay smiled inwardly as Teyla moved aside and guided Carson to the middle as well. Being part of a team, being accepted, never got old. Maybe one day he’d find a way to tell them.
xxx
Rodney tossed the remnants of his MRE in the trash receptacle and ducked out of the military tent designated for meals and meetings, squinting into the morning sun. M3T-988 had shorter days than New Lantea - or Old Lantea for that matter - a mere sixteen hours. As screwed up as his sleep cycle already was, this might make his insomnia permanent. Sheppard had offered to let him go back to Atlantis, probably more out of annoyance than consideration, but Rodney had chosen to stay, citing an unusual energy reading. Which really did exist but was almost certainly attributable to the fluorescent plant life.
The neon pink leaves that opened at dusk lit the night sky and released a pungent odor similar to chlorine that lasted throughout the day. Sheer cliffs of a granite-like stone ringed the valley where the Souliv, the inhabitants of -988, had settled. People traveled from hundreds of worlds seeking this stone. According to Teyla, these people were more than cutters; they were artists.
A cool breeze hinted at approaching winter. Zipping his jacket, Rodney headed to the medical tent in search of Carson, nodding to Teyla as she completed her morning bantos stretches in the camp circle where a couple of Marines milled about. Another two were guarding the gate. Sheppard and Ronon were no doubt trying to run each other into the ground like they did every day. Crazy-assed soldiers. Brushing the flap aside, he found Carson inside with his face glued to a microscope. A couple of nurses bustled in the background, drawing blood and taking vitals from the smattering of natives slumped on cots. Rodney wrinkled his nose, trying not to breathe in any germs as he sat down next to Beckett.
“How’s it going?”
Carson rubbed red-rimmed eyes. “Better. Symptoms only now. The last test results showed an absence of the protein in everyone but Tesdril.” He pointed to a listless girl of about five. “She’s dying, Rodney,” he whispered, “and I can’t stop it.”
McKay pasted on a smile. “We’ve only been here three days. You’ll get it.”
“Not in time for her. She won’t last the day.” Tears welled in Carson’s eyes. “I killed her.”
Leaning forward intently, Rodney said, “No. You didn’t.”
“Oh, Rodney. You know I did. All of this is my fault.”
McKay glanced away, wishing for once to have Teyla’s gift of comfort. “Carson, you had no way of knowing this would happen.”
“Didn’t I? When Michael told me to make the serum, I could have refused.”
“Could you have refused? Really? You told us he has some control over you.”
“He had to kill a girl in front of me before I agreed to help him. He might be able to stop me from doing something I want, but I don’t think he can force me to do something I don’t want. Regardless, I could have tried. I knew what would happen.”
Rodney caught movement from the corner of his eye. One of the patients shuffled by, hacking into a rag that came away bloody.
McKay scooted closer to Beckett and lowered his voice. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. Right now you need to concentrate on the cure.”
Carson nodded, swiping angrily at his cheek and taking a deep breath. “I know. I’m trying. Thanks, Rodney.”
His face flushed at the heartfelt gratitude, and a lopsided grin appeared as he clapped Beckett’s shoulder. “Well, you know….” He bit back the glib retort, the one he would have made before he lost two of his best friends, and cleared his throat, searching for words, failing to find them, finally settling on, “You’re welcome.”
“Dr. Beckett,” the nurse’s voice was calm but insistent, “we need you.”
The little girl arched off the bed, breath gurgling in her throat. The nurse held her tightly as she smoothed her hair and stroked her face. Carson dashed over, dropping to one knee to press the bell of his stethoscope to her chest. His shoulders slumped.
Her breathing hitched, slowed, stopped.
Beckett’s body trembled as he touched his forehead to hers momentarily. Pulling away, he nodded to the nurse who scooped the girl in her arms and carried her to a curtained-off section. Rodney stood frozen, his horror at the child’s death magnified by the strength of Carson’s grief. Suddenly cognizant of being observed, McKay stepped forward, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Come on,” Rodney said gently. “Let’s take a walk.”
Beckett wiped his face on his sleeve and nodded, allowing Rodney to pull him to his feet and guide him out of the tent. They wandered down a hard-packed trail through an orchard to a nearby stream. Settling on a boulder, Carson drew his knees to his chest then folded his arms on top of them, burying his face. Rodney let him, using the rushing water and gentle whisper of the wind as white noise while he ran a few mental calculations on the Wraith tech data Elizabeth had left him.
“Did your Beckett regret what he’d done?”
Rodney jerked at the question. “’My Beckett?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The real one, the original. I guess technically he’s the one who did this even though I clearly remember it. Did it eat at him? Did he have nightmares? Did he curse the day he walked through the gate to Atlantis?”
McKay gaped at him. “I- I had no idea you felt that way.”
“I’m asking how he felt.”
“I don’t know. I mean, we were so busy. I- We got sent back to Earth. Did I tell you that?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not.” Rodney stood then turned to face him. “Cars- um, he went home, worked at the SGC, spent time with his- your family. He wasn’t held prisoner or forced to work for a madman. I know he regretted what happened on Hoff - you know that - but he had no idea that Michael had survived that planet. He… died before we discovered Michael was still alive.”
“So, he never knew what he’d done.”
“No. Carson, I-”
“What happened to Katie?”
Rodney blinked. “What?”
“Katie Brown. You had quite the crush as I remember. What happened?”
McKay sat down with a wry grin. “I screwed up. As usual. You know me and people.”
Carson turned to him, a thoughtful expression on his face as he scrutinized McKay. “Tell me.”
Haltingly, the story spilled. Words were Rodney’s specialty but not when combined with emotions. He took consolation in the fact that at least Sheppard was worse than he was. But Carson needed the distraction so Rodney talked - about Katie and Kolya and Todd and Replicators and Sateda and nanites and Elizabeth.
He was describing in detail the beautiful painting Harmony had commissioned when his comm sparked to life. “Rodney, is Dr. Beckett with you?”
Teyla’s voice was low, calm, and measured. Which meant big trouble.
“Yes,” he answered. “What’s wrong?”
“The Souliv are searching for him. They believe him to be responsible for the disease.You must get him to the gate before they find him.”
“Me? What about-”
Teyla’s breathing quickened. “I must go. They have taken Ronon and John. Get Cars-”
A cry sounded followed by several thuds. A shout of pain. Then nothing.
“Teyla!” Rodney leapt to his feet, hand cupped around the earpiece. “Teyla!” He turned to Carson, wide-eyed. “We have to go now.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I think the natives attacked our people.”
“We need to help them. There might be wounded.”
McKay ran his hands over his jacket. No tac vest. No P-90. Not even a life signs detector. All he had was a nine mil strapped to his thigh with no extra ammo. “No. We have to get to the gate, get help.”
“Rodney-”
He pulled the handgun and chambered a round, holding it to his side as he crept toward the edge of the orchard. “I can’t protect you, Carson. They’ve got Sheppard and Ronon. I don’t stand a chance against them head on. We need backup.”
“You call for help. I’ll see to the injured.”
“Dammit, Carson, they’re looking for you. And I’m not- I can’t- not again. Now, come on.”
Beckett stopped. “Me? Why-” He gasped. “Oh, God. They know, don’t they? That I created this?”
“I don’t know what they know.” Rodney grabbed his arm and jerked him forward. “We have to go.”
They skirted the edge of the orchard, moving as silently as they could which still sounded like a freight train to McKay’s ears. If- when they got back, he was definitely going to start those lessons with Ronon again. He stopped, searching for a way to get through the settlement to the gate on the other side without being seen. Angry voices carried on the wind, and he caught a glimpse of movement between the tents. Two of the village elders tossed an unconscious Ronon forward. Rodney dropped to the ground, crabbing through the prairie grass toward the camp.
“What are you doing?” Carson hissed, scrabbling behind him. “I thought we were going for help.”
McKay glanced from Beckett to the clearing and back. “My team,” he whispered then hung his head, eyes closed, knowing what they would say, what Teyla had already told him. He nodded to Carson. “We are. Let’s get out of here.”
They crawled through the field, hurrying as fast as they could without overly disturbing the waist-high grass. Voices surrounded them as the Souliv continued their search. Rodney halted randomly as he’d been taught, straining to identify which direction the natives were headed. A rustling nearby froze him. Another whisper had him pulling his gun, bracing his wrist, his breath hissing between clenched teeth. The grass in front of his swayed, parted, and a small hand gently pushed the muzzle to the ground.
“Oh, God, Teyla. I could have killed you.” Rodney squinted at the blood that trickled from her temple. “Are you okay?”
“I will be fine,” she whispered, moving stiffly toward them, favoring her right side. “We must hurry.”
“What happened?” Carson asked.
Teyla smiled dangerously. “Two of the Souliv men… misjudged my abilities.”
Rodney wondered if they had any teeth left. “Sheppard and Ronon?”
“From what I can tell, they were ambushed. Pelted with rocks.”
Something deep inside McKay grew cold, brittle. His voice shook as he asked, “Are they…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.
“I believe they are still alive.” Teyla rolled her neck, massaged a muscle. “I’m not sure about the Marines. Now, we must go.”
The voices grew louder, turned in their direction. Rodney’s gaze swept Teyla. Most of the time when he looked at her he saw a friend, a sister. But sometimes, he saw her as others might - beautiful, fierce, a warrior. Even injured she stood the best chance of getting help. She was still wearing her midriff shirt and BDUs but had no vest, radio, or visible weapon. Blood streaked her face, her skin mottled in places. Carson was studying her with a professional eye, seemingly unmindful of the coming danger.
The footsteps grew closer.
A man can do unbelievable things with the proper motivation.
Rodney clenched his eyes shut, jumbled memories of a cave and a shrine in Wraith territory filling his mind. He could do this. He had to do this. Teyla could protect Carson and bring help but not if she got caught. And she would never willingly leave him behind.
He gathered his legs underneath him and handed her his gun. “Get Carson home,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Carson gaped at him. “What are you doing?”
“Creating a diversion.”
“Rodney!” Teyla hissed.
Everything in him screamed for him to drop on his belly and pretend to be invisible. Instead, he memorized every line in their faces. Taking a deep breath, he leapt up and ran.
“There!” one of the Souliv called, giving chase.
Being a genius had many privileges, but running like the wind was not one of them. Still, he pumped his arms, legs pounding as fast as he could. Shouts swirled around him, but he kept going, drawing them as far from Teyla, Carson, and the gate as he could. The Souliv fired confiscated P-90s wildly in every direction, most of the shots coming nowhere near him. But automatic weapons could find a target even in the most inexperienced of hands.
He felt the bullet’s impact first. His left shoulder jerked forward as the projectile hit and exited. Then the pain came - shards of it radiating in every direction, fire racing down incensed nerve endings. He stumbled forward, crashing to the ground with a strangled cry. His team flashed in his mind - risking everything for a jumper ride in Wraith territory to have one more day with him. Him.
Rodney staggered to his feet and fixed his eyes on the tree line, determined to not fail them. The next bullet clipped his side, but he didn’t break stride. He was Ronon running from the Wraith. His legs burned; his lungs withered. Teyla searching for her missing people. A third bullet ripped through the back of his thigh. He fell, hard. Sheppard never giving up. Ever. Unable to walk, Rodney crawled, dragging his bad leg behind him. Carson… Elizabeth… Maybe a man really could carry his team on his back in a blizzard.
He never saw the blow coming, unconscious before he hit the ground.
xxx
Icy water slapped Rodney in the face, jerking him back to consciousness. Agony raged in his shoulder and ripped the breath from his lungs. Gasping, he blinked away the spots that danced in his vision, and a face slowly came into focus. Not a face he recognized.
“He’s awake,” the man announced.
Another man, pale and thin, shuffled in. “That’s the wrong one.”
Rodney blinked rapidly, trying to clear his mind. This face was familiar.
“What do you mean ‘the wrong one?’ Dark hair, blue eyes. That’s what you said.”
“This one isn’t the doctor who’s been treating us.”
Shuffling patient, hacking into a bloody rag.
“You… son of a… bitch,” Rodney mumbled. “We were… trying to help.”
“I heard him,” the patient barked. “He said he created it.”
McKay shook his head. “Moron.”
“Bring the other two.” The first man squatted next to him as two others hurried from the room. “Where is the doctor?”
Rodney closed his eyes and turned his head away. His side throbbed, and his leg was sticky and numb from his hip to his ankle. Numb? Had the bullet hit an artery? No, of course not. He’d be dead already if it had. But he was probably going to lose the leg. Maybe he’d finally win that pot from Zelenka.
“Where is he?” the man repeated.
“Where you’ll… never find him.”
“What is the address?”
“I have no idea… what you’re talking… about.”
The man stood, placing a boot on McKay’s injured shoulder. “The address,” he repeated, grinding his heel into the wound.
Rodney choked on a scream as his body spasmed. He squirmed weakly, fingernails gouging the wooden floor, trying to get away, to find relief from the pain that exploded from his ear to his fingers.
“Tell me,” the man insisted.
The pressure eased for a moment then redoubled as the man twisted his heel into the wound again.
“No,” Rodney whispered.
The man stepped off, kicking McKay in his injured side as he walked away. Rodney gagged, curling slightly as he willed his stomach to stay where it was. Breathing shallowly, he glanced around. A small room, bare, made of wood, dirty windows, needing a coat of paint and central heating. The man and the patient huddled in a corner, whispering. The door flew open, and one of the men from earlier staggered in, his nose bloody and a Sheppard-sized boot print on his back. Rodney sagged in relief.
The three men argued quietly then the first man turned, a small brown bottle in his hand. He knelt next to Rodney, giving a cold smile while twisting the lid off.
“You are going to tell me everything you know.”
Rodney huffed a laugh. “Really? Where would you like to start? The evolution of proto-stellar disks? How about the feedback from galactic fountains in proto-galaxies?”
“You’re friends are dead.”
“Did they die before or after they kicked the shit out of your friends?”
“Don’t make me kill you.”
“I won’t tell you anything.”
“Yes, you will.”
The man held the bottle over McKay’s shoulder and tilted it until a putrid green liquid trickled out. The second it hit, agony roared through Rodney’s body. He arched off the ground, his scream reverberating in the room, his vision swimming as tears leaked out. The men held him down as the bottle upended again. Excruciating pain racked him, nerves shrieking in protest as his torso convulsed.
“What is the address of your home?”
His vision grew red, hazy. “One seven Wildrose Lane.”
Liquid poured on his side, his thigh. “The address!”
“Vancouver,” he gasped. “British Columbia.”
The bottle emptied. Darkness claimed him.
xxx
Hands on him, on his arms and legs, touching his face and neck and chest. Rodney moaned in protest, too weak to push them away, too afraid to open his eyes. He held tightly to the image of a Genii blade piercing his skin and shattering his resolve. Never again.
“Won’t tell you,” Rodney whispered.
Distorted voices. Cold air. Strong arms lifting him.
“No, no, please. No more,” he begged.
“McKay.” A low rumble, familiar, protective. Safe.
“Ronon?” Rodney cracked his lids open as a dreadlock tickled his nose. Ronon smiled down at him. Dark bruises stained his teammate’s forehead and cheek, a long gash extending from temple to jaw. “You look terrible.”
Ronon snorted, the amusement not reaching his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”
Sleep tugged at Rodney, and he relaxed into it then suddenly jerked awake. “Carson? Teyla? Sheppard?”
“They’re fine,” Ronon assured him. “Beckett’s waiting in the jumper. Teyla and Sheppard were searching the other buildings. They’re on their way.”
The numbness from his leg had spread throughout his body. Blood loss and torture had taken their toll on him, and the hypoglycemia wasn’t helping. Was he dying?
Rodney forced his eyes to focus. “Would you do me a favor?”
“Name it.”
Oh, God, he was dying. “Tell Sheppard-” Goodbye. “-that if he finds snow in his quarters-” Take care of each other. “-Radek did it.” I’ll miss you.
“McKay?”
His lids grew heavier. The numbness turned cold, creeping up his limbs into his chest.
“McKay!”
Ronon’s face blurred, dimmed.
“Rodney!”
Jostling, bouncing, panting, shouting.
Nothing.
xxx
He was on fire, burning alive from the inside out. Rodney whimpered as the beeps and hisses around him grew louder, more erratic. He thrashed, panicked. Soft fingers brushed through his hair. A cool cloth caressed his face. Unknown words soothed him, chasing away the demons from his nightmares. The flames licked at him, kept at bay by an iciness that suddenly blanketed him. Gentle hands steadied him as he shook, pain blossoming in his shoulder, his leg, his chest. Then mercy coursed through his veins and swept him away.
xxx
Voices from his dreams pulled him to wakefulness.
One gentle and feminine. “… not your fault.”
“Told him I wouldn’t let Beckett out of my sight.” A deep, masculine rumble.
“You were ambushed, Ronon. No one blames you.”
“I blame me. McKay-”
“-is trying to sleep,” Rodney murmured as he rolled his head toward them, blinking slowly. “Hey.”
Teyla’s smile lit the room. “It is good to see you awake, Rodney. Let me get Dr. Keller.”
“She’s right, you know,” Rodney said after Teyla disappeared around the corner. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Ronon refused to meet his gaze. “I got careless.”
“You got hit in the head with a rock. Though as hard as your head is, I’m surprised the rock won.”
Ronon’s lips twitched. “Who says it did?”
“Oh, ow, don’t make me laugh. What’s wrong with my chest?”
“Operation. Something about mobile bone shards. Keller will have to explain it.”
“Where’s Sheppard?”
“Keller kicked him out about an hour ago. Told him not to come back until he’d slept for at least four hours.”
Rodney yawned, exhaustion and drugs dragging him toward sleep. “How long has he been here?”
“Since we got you back. Five days ago.”
“Five days? He’s been here for five days?”
Ronon’s gaze met his. “We all have.”
xxx
McKay jerked awake with a strangled cry. Strong hands grasped his arms. He twisted, struggling to get away.
“No!” he screamed. “No more! Let me go!”
The hands disappeared. “Easy, buddy. Relax.” A hazy shadow solidified. “You’re home, safe.”
“John?”
Sheppard nodded, his smile forced. “That’s right. You okay?”
Rodney slumped back against the pillow, his adrenaline gone. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad dream.”
A chair scraped the floor, and Sheppard took a seat. “I hear you.”
The infirmary was dimmed to night levels. “What time is it?”
Sheppard squinted at his watch. “Oh-four-thirty.”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I was until you woke me up.”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I meant in your quarters. Keller’s going to sedate you if you aren’t careful.” He scrutinized Sheppard for a moment. Dark circles, new lines etched around his eyes, heavy growth of beard even for him. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
Emotion flickered across Sheppard’s face, an emotion Rodney couldn’t quite identify. He braced himself for a chewing out. He wasn’t sure if John and Ronon had escaped before or after he’d left Teyla, but it probably didn’t matter. They’d had to risk their lives to rescue him regardless.
But the reprimand didn’t come.
John leaned back, crossed his arms, and propped his feet on the end of Rodney’s bed. “Get some sleep, McKay.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“What makes you think something’s wrong with me?”
“Five years of being on your team.”
“McKay,” John sighed, “do you really want to talk about this now?”
“Yes. Usually you-”
Rodney broke off as the emotion flickered again, staying longer this time. Suddenly he knew where he’d seen it before. It was the same expression John had worn when that parasite had been lodged in Rodney’s brain and when Ronon had been in withdrawal from the Wraith enzyme and when Elizabeth had stepped through to the space gate and when Teyla had gone missing. Fear and loss. Fear of loss.
“You know, never mind. We can talk about it later.”
Sheppard didn’t seem to hear. “You don’t have anything to prove, you know.”
“I know.”
“I mean, we trust you to do your job, to pull our asses out of the fire with that big brain of yours.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“You’re a scientist not a soldier.”
“Gee, thanks for letting me know. I had forgotten what all those letters after my name meant.”
“You were talking earlier. When you were dreaming.”
Rodney grew still as pain shot through his shoulder at the thought of a green liquid and a boot heel. “And….”
“And you don’t have to worry about carrying us. We’re a team. We take care of each other.”
McKay could feel the flush climbing up his neck. “I- I, uh-”
Sheppard leaned forward, eyes intense. “What you did was very brave, Rodney. Don’t do it again.”
“Okay.” Rodney hoped to never see that look on Sheppard’s face again. “How’s Carson?”
“Did I hear my name?” Beckett’s head peeked around the corner. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”
John stood, patting Rodney’s arm. “Think I’ll catch a couple of winks. G’night, McKay. ‘Night, Doc.”
Rodney ran a quick eye over Beckett. The permanent stress lines were there, but otherwise he seemed in good health. “How are you?”
Carson sat in the chair Sheppard had left. “Doing fine. The serum I developed worked on all the infected worlds, and we’ve immunized everyone here, the Athosians, and all our trading partners.” Beckett’s relief was palpable. “I think we may have beaten it.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yes, it is.” Carson glanced away then back. “Rodney, I don’t know what to say. What you did….”
The flush returned as McKay waved vaguely. “Yeah, well…. I see Teyla got you home.”
“Indeed she did. She took three teams of Marines back and found John and Ronon almost to the gate. The Marines that had been captured with them were tied up at the campsite. Something in the rock made it hard to locate your sub-cu transmitter so they had to search every building.” Carson studied him thoughtfully. “You’ve changed, you know.”
Rodney glanced at him in surprise. “In a… good way?”
“Yes. I… saw what they did to you, what you went through to save me-”
“Can we not talk about it?”
Carson nodded. “Of course, my friend.” He settled back in the chair. “Now, as I recall, you were telling me about a lovely painting that a young lady named Harmony had done.”
Rodney grinned. “I’ve even got pictures.”
The end.