SEASON: Third Season - first half
MAJOR CHARACTERS: Team Fic - McKay, Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla - and Beckett
DISCLAIMERS: The characters, Atlantis, etc, all belong to Sony, MGM, Gecko, Showtime, the Sci-Fi Channel.
SUMMARY: The team is helping out a town with a broken shield system, a penchant for tornados and a secret.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Tipper and GateBiscuit and Sable Cain, thanks for the help and comments!
SPOILERS: Small ones for Rising, The Gift, Common Ground, Siege III, Suspicion, Allies

WHIRLWIND - by NotTasha

PART 1: CRUSH

He was aware of a buzzing, an annoying and insistent sound. He tried to raise a hand to flutter away the annoying insect, but his hand wouldn't move. It wouldn't move at all, and he was far too tired to keep trying. His hand laid still and the buzzing continued.

He felt heavy. He ached. His head hurt his back his side. He was dizzy even though he wasn't moving, even though he was stretched out on his stomach, eyes closed, face turned to one side, arms out at his side. He felt sick. His neck felt sticky. His head throbbed -- was he bleeding?

It was hard to tell where one hurt ended and where another began, hard to categorize them did his back hurt worse than his head? Everything ached. Trying to concentrate on one area or another only intensified the sensation and he realized he'd do better by drawing back and trying to forget it.

Yes, just try to forget forget.

Well, forgetting should be simple, because he couldn't remember. Couldn't even begin to remember what had happened what had brought him here. He could hardly remember getting up that morning.

Out of toothpaste. Had squeezed out the last possible drab last night. Had to brush without in the morning using whatever paste had been left behind on the bristles of the brush. Needed to go to the commissary. Might try Crest Whitening toothpaste this time. He could always use whiter teeth.

Who didn't?

Get something minty. Not one of those strange new flavors. Vanilla? Who thought that was a good idea? Definitely not 'Lemon Ice'. Who wants to taste 'death' so early in the morning?

Something twinged, throbbed, hurt like hell.

Forget. Just forget.

Toothpaste. Don't forget to get new toothpaste when you get back. Didn't have time to get it in the morning. Why? Something came up. What? Had to get ready for a mission. The others were waiting. Yes. And where were they going? Think about it think

Not working.

Well, figure out something then. You can always figure things out.

He blinked and found only darkness. Concentrate. The blackness remained so thick so deep.

Can't see a thing. Can't do a thing. Why try?

So he let himself sink, to slip and hide. The pain lessened The buzzing diminished. He let it go.

"Rodney! Rodney, do you hear me!" The buzzing suddenly formed into words.

The voice was demanding, and he blinked again, hearing his name.

"McKay, respond!"

Numbly, he moved his lips, but his voice didn't seem to work.

"Teyla, you're almost there. You got three life forms dead-ahead of you. Keep moving forward."

"I can hear voices." There was a pounding heard over the radio. "I have come to help you! Are you there? Yes, I hear people digging toward me."

"Keep at it, Teyla. Ronon? You've stopped?"

"Got some stuff to work through. How close am I?"

"You got about six feet from your target. You hear anything?"

"Nothing."

"Keep going."

"I am."

Above him, something seemed to shift. He blinked, feeling dust sift down onto him. Dust, dirt, spider webs maybe? And he cringed. He hated spiders.

"John, how are you doing?"

"Great. Just great. Yeah. I think I got the bleeding stopped. She should be okay if we could just get out of this damn place. That message better have gotten through."

"It will."

"You break through yet?"

"I am very close now."

"Keep at it. Why aren't any of their people here yet? What the hell?"

There was a pause, and then, "There was great disorder. They are only beginning to understand what has happened. They will come to help."

"Not soon enough."

He listened, swallowing dryly as the conversation continued. He felt desiccated, empty, crushed, hurt, trapped. Somewhere, above him, in the blackness, someone was moving.

He drifted.

"McKay! If you're out there, respond. McKay, do you hear me?"

"M'here," he whispered, his voice raw. "Here I'm here. I think I can hear something. I"

"McKay! Do you copy? Damn it! Why won't he answer? Where the hell are the rest of them?"

Cursing his stupidity, he tried to move his left arm to activate the mic on his radio, but the hand was totally trapped. Try harder! Get it loose. Come on! "Gah!" Increased attempts to move the limb only sent a flare of pain through his shoulder.

Letting out a sobbing gasp, he tried to move his right arm. It was less encumbered than the left, but he was met with impediments and had to draw the arm back toward his body. He was tangled.

He had no luck. The more he tried to move the arm, the more difficult it became. What? What was wrong? Frustrated in the darkness, he tried to free the arm as the voices returned to mere buzzing in his ear.

"Stupid, so stupid," he gasped, pulling his hand back, and trying to get it out of whatever had ensnared it. Attempting to jerk the arm out of the binding only sent waves of pain through his back.

"Ow...oh ow... Ow..."

By accident, his hand brushed across something familiar. What? Oh, yeah. P90. I can use that. The hand spidered, searching along the length of the weapon until he found the switch. And then, with a click, light flooded the space.

He let out a breath as he gazed out through a haze of falling dust. He was surrounded by shattered wood, big beams and smaller boards. Wood... lots of wood. And how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Just as much wood as a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck

God, he was embarrassing.

Yes, all around him -- smashed wood, shattered support columns and bleak broken stuff. Everything was coated in a film of dust and he blinked against the brightness of the P90's light, blinked against the dust motes that floated everywhere around him.

He coughed miserably, realizing just how trapped he was, in some wrecked building.

Great just great. He closed his eyes a moment, a feeling the heaviness of his eyelids.

But the others... You can't let them down. What if... what if they're hurt?

Easier to keep your eyes closed. Just keep them closed. Easier.

Screw easier.

Think think. What happened? How do you get out? And he opened his eyes again slowly. Figure it out. Look around you. What do you see? What can you use?

There was a console of some sort in the middle of the room. It blurred, and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. Was he home? Then why the wood?

He focused on the console, and furrowed his brow. Now, that's odd. Why would they have?

He coughed, the action sending another bolt of pain through him, leaving him gasping. His mind muddled as everything started to gray.

"Rodney, if you can hear me, respond."

"I have broken through to the room and have found the survivors!"

"Great, Teyla!"

"He there?"

There was a ruckus over the radio, a smattering of glad voices.

"You are safe now. I have found you. Is everyone all right? Is anyone hurt?"

"Teyla?"

"There are three of the Colo here. They are not badly injured." She paused, as if reluctant to continue. "Rodney is not among them."

"Ronon?"

"I'm still going."

"The Colo are in good condition, Colonel, and I believe they will be able to make their way out without further aid from me. Where is the next target?"

There was a frustrated sound, and "God, I wish I could help you guys out."

"You must remain with Albion until medical help arrives. Is she still"

"She's alive, yeah. I've stopped the worst of the bleeding, but she needs real help."

"Where is my next target?"

"Hang on, Teyla. We got two sets left. Next is a single dot. Good chance it's our guy. About 20 feet from where you are right now there's"

And then there was a pause.

"John?"

Quiet.

"John?"

"Aw hell."

"John, what is it?"

"Went out. Son of a bitch." Something clattered as if forcefully struck. "We lost one. The lifesign was just shit."

"There are others still indicated on the Life Sign Detector? Chances are it was not him"

"Yeah yeah"

"We will find him, John."

"I'm gonna kill him when I get my hands on him."

"Yeah, me too. Gotta get him first. How close am I now?"

"Your almost on top of the indicator, Ronon. You got a lifesign right in front of you."

"I'm not seein' anythin'."

"Must be above or below you." A disgruntled groan, followed by, "How the hell does he get this thing to show three dimensional structures? Dammit."

Something was creaking over his head, and more dust was coming down. He coughed again, roughly, leaving him sucking for oxygen as tears formed in his eyes.

"Hang on, I heard something? McKay? McKay!"

The voice came to him in stereo muffled from above and transmitted over the radio -- a strange echo. He felt cold.

"McKay!"

Above him, the helter-skelter ceiling was creaking madly and he let out a frightened gasp, "Watch out!" he called, but his voice was little more than a squeak. "Get off!" he tried to shout as he brought his head back in a futile attempt to escape. He'd moved no more than an inch, but the board above his head gave him a solid thunk and the blackness returned to his world.

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TBC - poor woobie