SEASON: Third Season
MAJOR CHARACTERS: Beckett and McKay. Happy Birthday flah7! with a bit of Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon at the end.
DISCLAIMERS: The characters, Atlantis, etc, all belong to Sony, MGM, Gecko, Showtime, the Sci-Fi Channel. I own nothing.
NOTE: I'm writing a series of short stories, each featuring McKay and one of the others. If you want to check out the other stories, please see Stupid Stuff and Weird Kid, also found at this site.
NOTE: Tipper issued a challenge to write a story based on a poem. I had already started this story, but I can honestly tell you that the setting was based on a poem I had read just before I started. The poem is at the end of the story, and it sets the scene.

STRANGE DOINGS - by NotTasha

PART 1: STRANGE PLACE

The frost crunched beneath his feet as he moved through the frozen, burned town. The wooden structures were blackened. Walls had been burned away. Soot smudged the cracked windows. A layer of frost tinted everything.

The frost had come early on this lonely world, freezing leaves in the trees, gilding needles in silver, killing the crops in the fields. Leaves fell heavily, making an audible sound as they hit the ground, like the footsteps of ghosts.

This whole world seemed haunted by them – the ghosts of those who didn't survive the blaze. He could almost feel them watching him – dark eyes from the surrounding silvered forest. It was unnerving, and a cold chill settled on his shoulders like a mantle.

Beckett closed his eyes a moment and blew out a long breath. With a shake of his head, he tried to rid his mind of such thoughts, but the unshakable sensation of watchers didn't leave him as he continued at his task – accounting for the dead.

It should have been Biro's responsibility, but she'd been off duty when Lorne's team reported on what they'd found. Biro deserved a day off as much as anyone, so Beckett answered the call, joining up with Sheppard's team to trek to this wretched place. It had been a long walk, and the heaviness of the situation didn't make the journey any easier. The cold wrapped around them, chilling them, making everything bleaker.

There'd been little conversation outside of McKay's usual nattering, and when they came to the town, even that came to a halt.

Latham, on the planet Waleska, must have been a pretty little place at some point, nestled against a river, near an open field, hidden in the trees. It burned until only skeletons of houses and shells of shops remained.

Lorne and the others led them, pointing out what they'd found – bodies amid the burn – people who didn't make it. Poor souls. Poor wretched souls.

The too early winter must have been devastating to them as their crops were sapped. The people had tucked into their homes, waiting for the awful cold snap to pass, bundling up, unprepared.

How frightening that must have been, to see their future frozen.

Well, they were beyond caring now. Beckett sighed as he moved along the ruined street. He was a doctor, after all, and this work among the dead weighed him down.

It was strange doings, he decided, to have this place burn while, all around them, the world had turned to ice. He shoved his gloved hands further into his pockets, wishing the gloves were woolen instead of medical.

Yes, it was strange – so very strange.

He peered into a roofless home and found another scorched room, another blackened corpse – little more than ashes. He sighed, letting out a clouded breath. Such waste.

The only mercy was that so few bodies were found. Many of the buildings were empty. Many people had escaped, but where were they now? For certainly, the town had been well populated. What had happened to the survivors? Why had they left their dead?

Wraith, Ronon had proclaimed, having recognized something near the Gate, seeing some sign that was beyond Beckett's comprehension. The Wraith had descended on this planet. The people, closed into their homes by the sudden cold, must have been so afraid. They must have tried to be quiet. Someone, somewhere must have knocked over a candle in their panic, had held themselves too near the hearth in their hiding. Something caught fire and the whole place burned.

It was the only thing that made sense.

It must have been horrifying, Beckett thought glumly. It must have seemed like the end of the world.

The fire had burned. The fire had killed. Then, the fire cooled, and the frost crept in. And the people from Atlantis came to investigate and piece together the strange doings.

Then, as the two teams searched, they'd heard the sound of Wraith stunners in the distance. Ronon's head had come up, making him look rather like a hound that scented its quarry. In a moment, he was gone with Sheppard and Teyla right behind, along with two of Lorne's team.

Rodney, who'd been occupied with exploring some part of the town, had huffed unhappily when he discovered that his team had departed, leaving him with Lorne, a sergeant named Acworth, and Carson Beckett.

Put out and put upon, McKay had cried, "They left me! I can't believe my own team just took off and left me." Arms akimbo, he scowled at the injustice.

He'd made a half-hearted attempt to follow until Lorne thwarted him, ordering him to stay put. McKay balked, of course, acting as if he had no intention of listening to the orders. The major had been exasperated, realizing his duty was to protect the vulnerable civilians. It was obvious that Lorne would've preferred to meet the foe with the others.

Rodney had fumed at Lorne's impediments. Lorne grew frustrated with trying to corral the Canadian.

Beckett had tried to placate, "Rodney, you're better off stayin' here, you know? I could use the help. No sense in rushing off after them if you can do more good here."

"Good?" McKay had interjected. "What could I possibly manage here? Everyone's dead." He had an unsettled look about him as he said that. He looked away. "I mean, what can I do outside of filling out a couple toe tags for people I don't even know."

"Dr. McKay," Lorne had added smugly. "Sheppard and the others will have a better chance of making it home alive if you just stay here. They won't be tied up with waiting for you, won't have to constantly be on the lookout, having to protect you."

To that, Rodney's expression went a little blank. "I can keep up, for a while anyway," he declared, his voice faltering. "I mean, as long as I get a breather or something every so often." And he'd squinted after the departed shapes, listening to them crunch into the wintry forest. He sighed a little, perhaps judging his capacity for a marathon. "I can take care of myself… fairly well anyway."

Lorne put in, "It's not as if you're much of an asset in a battle." He grinned. "It'll give them the chance to actually catch up to those guys. I get to keep watch on you. You're better suited for helping the doc."

The statement only turned McKay's expression to a scowl. "Oh," he growled, "I am NOT a medical assistant, let us get that straight right now."

"No one would think that," Beckett muttered.

"I'm not about to intern under anyone!" Rodney's ire only rose.

"No one's askin' that, Rodney," Beckett tried to calm him.

"Fine," McKay snarled suddenly. "Great, I'll work with Doctor Beckett then, hmmm? This will be easier, anyway. Almost like a little R&R, right? Let them run into the woods while I hang out here, looking for burned up, crispy, dead people. I got no problem with that."

But he obviously did have a problem. Who could blame him? Checking the burned bodies of the townspeople was hardly the sort of duty to encourage anyone. Beckett had the stomach for it, but not the heart. So much death. He wondered how Biro managed to deal with it all the time.

So he stood in the doorway, his eyes on the blackened remains. Another body in another home, all burnt and charred and lost.

"There's one here, boys," he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," Lorne responded without any enthusiasm, he stood, lax, leaning against a burned up pillar of some sort.

Teyla and Ronon had been unsure of the local customs. Apparently, the people of this planet, Waleska, had no great ceremonies for internment the dead. "They take great pride in their ancestors," Teyla had explained. "They revere those who came before them, those that died before them. They have great histories, and remember their dead lovingly, yet they have little regard for their bodies."

"Empty husks," Ronon had added.

Beckett brought out a datapad and made a few notes, trying to record everything he could about this one home, this one person, trying to note something that might identify him – or her. Maybe someone from one of the other villages could help them give a name to this poor creature. There were other towns near Latham, out there in the forest somewhere. Hopefully someone would help them to know who this was.

As he worked, he felt that unpleasant chill sink even further into him. How could he feel so cold when everything had burned so fiercely?

And why… why had these poor souls stayed put, remained in their homes to burn?

Rodney had shrugged, looking distracted and annoyed. "The Wraith came. The people hid. It came down to a choice: burn or have your life sucked out of you. I guess some people preferred the flames."

"It's a horrible way to go, Rodney," Beckett had insisted. "Burning… it's…"

"And death by Wraith is any more pleasant?" McKay had responded, bringing a hand to his chest and then brushing at his jacket distractedly. "At least they robbed the Wraith of lunch, huh? That has to mean something."

"Yes," Beckett had agreed glumly, "That's something." And he tried not to imagine what had driven them to make such a horrid choice.

Then, Sheppard had radioed in, declaring that the Gate had been active when they approached it – their quarry gone. With any luck, that was the end of them.

With nothing else to do, Sheppard had returned to Atlantis, telling them of the current circumstances, of the lack of viable jumper landing areas. They'd return, with better cold weather gear and more people. With the Wraith about, they needed more protection. Someone should start digging graves, and obviously McKay wasn't going to be part of that task force.

It had taken an hour for Sheppard and the others to reach the Gate, which meant at least another hour to return. So, McKay and Beckett went back to the search, with Lorne and Acworth standing by. The frosted weather hung heavily over them.

And all the while, Beckett had the sensation of being observed – as if by ghosts. It was a strange, unnerving sensation. He glanced to where Lorne stood. Acworth was sauntering toward the major, looking just as bored. McKay had made it to the far end of town and was checking out some of the least damaged structures.

Something felt… wrong.

But nothing was amiss – outside of the strangeness of the burned out buildings and the frozen world around them, and the dead. No ghosts – no dark eyes. Nothing to worry about.

Beckett tsked at himself. He was being ridiculous. There was work to do. He squatted beside the miserable remains of the latest Waleskan. There was nothing recognizable about the face. It seemed hardly human, just a shell of someone who'd once lived and breathed and chose the flame.

A shame. Such a shame.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the unknown person. "We came too late. We didn't know. If there's anythin' I could've done, I would've…" He paused, not knowing what else to say. The cold drove into his bones and he shivered against it, feeling inadequate and puny. His skilled hands clutched at his useless medical bag. "I'm so sorry, so very sorry." Such horrible waste.

"Carson!" Rodney's voice broke him from his quiet conversation. "Carson! I found someone!" McKay's voice was excited over the radio. "Not burned. This one's not burned!"

His heart leaping, Carson darted toward the door, grasping his bag to him. Lord, if he could save just one person-- "Where are you?" he questioned urgently.

"Third door from the end. The side of the street that has the big hoop that's sort of hanging from a pole – probably some sort of representation of the stargate. It's the doorway to the right of that of that, and to the left of the place that has some sort of pig head on it. Come on! Hurry!"

Shaking his head at the description, Carson wondered if Rodney had purposefully memorized these little details or if they'd just come to him. Lorne and Acworth moved toward him.

"You need us?" the major asked.

"I'll letcha know," Carson responded, hoofing it down the street in the direction McKay had described, quickly finding the hoop hanging and broken on its pole, and spotting the blackened sign that might have resembled a pig's head if the creature's snout was half its regular size and had shorter ears.

"Rodney?" he called as he entered the door.

"Carson! Come on, already," McKay cried.

Beckett darted within, finding Rodney hovering over a woman. Beckett let out a little sigh of relief to find one person untouched by the fire. He rushed into the room and dropped to his haunches beside McKay.

"I found her!" McKay told him, sounding proud. "Must be the only one that didn't … you know… get burned in the fire. She looks fine…" His brow furrowed as he watched Beckett work over the woman.

There was no pulse. Her skin was cold. She was gray. No roses in those cheeks. Beckett sat back on his heels.

Rodney looked surprised. "Aren't you going to do anything?" he asked. "Come on, CPR or something? You brought the defibrillator, didn't you?"

Just another of the dead, Beckett thought glumly. Too little – too late.

"Carson? Come on!" McKay berated.

"There's nothin' I can do, Rodney," Beckett said quietly.

Rodney's face scrunched up. "There's nothing…?"

"She's long gone," Beckett continued with an even voice. He lifted his eyes, taking in Rodney's expression. There was a look of resigned sorrow tightening the Canadian's eyes. He knew, Beckett decided, Rodney knew all along that there was no hope for the woman. Maybe he only hoped.

"Fine," McKay responded, getting to his feet and scrubbing at his knees.

Beckett continued to examine the woman who seemed untouched, just cold and empty and black around the nose and mouth. "The smoke," he said softly. "The smoke got to her. It'll kill you sure as flame."

"Yes, this I know," McKay replied, moving away from the dead woman to stand in the doorway and breath the cold air that seemed to crisp the lungs.

"Nothing we could've done," Beckett whispered.

"Yes, obviously," McKay responded, looking away.

"Rodney," Beckett started, when his radio chirped.

"Dr. Beckett, you and Dr. McKay need us there?" Lorne asked.

"No, lad," Beckett responded quietly. "I've got another one here. Should take some photos of her. We might be able to find someone who knows her." He regarded the woman, finding her not particularly pretty, but not ugly either. She had a plainness to her – brown hair that had been tied in a bun, sharp cheekbones and a long face that might have given her a 'horsy' look when she'd been alive.

No, she wasn't pretty. There was a blemish on her neck, a birthmark, which she'd vainly tried to hide with a scarf. The bit of cloth now hung loose at her neck.

Cold and dead and left in this empty house, Beckett found a loneliness in her. The unburned room seemed so empty and sullen.

"I'm so sorry, lass," he said quietly, touching his gloved hand to her face, gently, as if he were touching a loved one.

"Why aren't they back yet?" McKay's voice startled him. "Sheppard and Teyla and Ronon went running off into the wilderness and were supposed to come back a soon as they figured out the Wraith had gone."

"It's quite a trek back," Beckett said softly, not really listening.

"They could speed it up," Rodney snapped.

"No sense in hurryin' now," Beckett responded. "Nothin' here to hurry to except the dead."

"And us!" Rodney countered. "I don't want to be counted among the…" and he flipped a hand toward the woman, but didn't turn to face in that direction.

The familiar, horrible sound of Wraith stunners firing brought Beckett to his feet, without a thought he stood protectively over the dead woman, wide eyed as he watched the doorway and at Rodney. The scientist spun toward him, opening his mouth to say something --- anything, but it was already too late as two figures moved into the doorway.

TBC