Missing In Action: Year of Hell

Fork Of Doom

First Atlantis fic. Hope this one suits everyone just fine :P Enjoy!

Set after Allies.

--

Day 361

'It's been almost a year. What makes you think they're even still there?' Rodney McKay had realised long ago that arguing with John Shepphard was like throwing yourself at a brick wall – useless and likely to hurt – but that didn't mean he wouldn't do it anyway. 'If the Wraith attacked, Atlantis wouldn't stand a chance!'

'It's still on sensors.'

Rodney looked at Michael in barely contained disgust. As much as he owed the former Wraith he still hadn't forgiven him for being the cause of all of this. But John had picked up on the meaning of his words. His eyes held a weariness and age McKay had rarely let himself see – or believe. 'He's right. Elizabeth would destroy Atlantis before handing it to the Wraith – willingly or otherwise.' From the curl of the mouth, McKay knew the jibe was about to come. 'Now if you don't mind, I'd like to figure out how I'm going to rescue everybody.'

A tall order for a normal person. But a Colonel with a hero complex? Not so much.

That left Rodney to focus on the only other thing to keep him occupied – Aiden Ford. Ronon had been at his side until previously – disappearing with Major Lorne to get more enzyme from the dead Wraith.

He still didn't know how Colonel Shepphard had managed it. From what he remembered Beckett saying, it would have been nearly impossible for someone as dependant on enzyme as Ford, to come off of it. To simply go Cold Turkey was impossible – he would have died.

But Ford was almost back to normal – or as normal as he could be after everything he had suffered. It was no secret McKay harboured ill feelings after being force-fed enzyme, but he understood better than anybody what the enzyme could do to somebody.

He knelt on the floor at Aiden's side, feeling for the thready pulse. He was no physician but he had done what he could for the unconscious Lieutenant. 'McKay.' Rodney met Ronon's gaze head on – growing as close as he would ever want to - to the runner after their capture at the hands of Michael. The Satedan held out the enzyme they had procured. It still made McKay uncomfortable to use it and he was glad the doses were getting smaller. From the moment Shepphard had stumbled onto the Wraith cruiser, pressing the enzyme into his hands with a whisper of 'Inject – Now!' he wondered how long he'd been giving it to Ford.

With practised ease, he administered the enzyme and checked the pulse again – not that he expected much of a change. Ford had been unconscious for most of the time since his rescue. 'I'm not even sure how he'll react. Without him being conscious – I'm not sure we should give him anymore.'

'That's not your decision.' John ground out the reply through clenched teeth and his eyes met McKay's, anger evident.

'I know you want to save him, Colonel, but you can't-'

'I've spent eleven months in his company Doctor - I think I know how he'll react.' The slight on the Doctor hurt for a second but he wasn't about to back down.

'Do you even know by how much you've been reducing the dosage?' When he received no reply he continued, trying not to sound smug or too hard. 'For all you know, you could be doing more harm than good. We should wait until Carson can take a look.'

John opened his mouth to reply and then shut it as a sharp noise cut through the eerie calm on the Cruiser. 'What is that?' But it was obvious to them all. They had come out in the midst of a space battle.

Michael – their authority on all things Wraith – was looking out at space – where Atlantica had come into view. Despite the situation – and the obvious danger – Rodney stood, at a loss for words. After so long away from his planet – his home – he felt his stomach flip-flop, and an overwhelming calm settled over him - at seeing it in space. He risked a glance at Shepphard and a similar expression of peace was on his face – and then anger.

Wraith darts were swarming all over the planet – obvious even from this distance. An invisible hand clutched at Rodney's heart as he watched the raging battle – the battle for their home – and he felt an unexplainable need to fight. To defend.

'We have to help.' The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but Shepphard seemed unaware of how out of character they were for the Doctor. His eyes were trained on what was obviously the Dedalus and –

'Is that the Orion?' Rodney's mouth fell open and his grip on the back of Michael's chair was so strong he was surprised it hadn't broken. How had they gotten it to work so efficiently as to fight? His mind was assaulted by all manner of questions but none he could ask now – at least not without receiving a reply of anything but 'Not now, McKay.'

'What can we possibly do that the Orion and Dedalus can't?' His reply was met with silence and then Sheppard frowned.

'We're in a Wraith Cruiser. With Dart's, right?'

'What you're thinking is suicide!' Rodney knew Sheppard well enough to know what he was thinking. 'Just because you can use Wraith Technology as well as Ancient, doesn't mean you should.'

Michael opened his mouth to retort but Rodney cut across him – sick of being the only one who knew what the former Wraith was truly capable of. 'And you! You started all of this and now you're giving him everything he needs to- '

'Rodney!' He turned to Sheppard on instinct but kept his face impassive at what was obviously going to be a reprimand. 'Look out there, and tell me you don't want to do this.'

The technician turned and his eyes widened at the massacre of his people. His friends. He tried to say the words but they failed. 'You can't go out alone.' It was such a weak reply, but Sheppard smiled.

'I know and I won't be.' Russell Lorne stood forward – Ronon's head raising from his position at Ford's side. McKay sighed inwardly and frowned.

'But.. Not all of you have to go! Michael –' McKay turned to the former-Wraith and then looked down at the planet. 'Can this thing detect life signs on the mainland?'

Shepphard and Ronon exchanged looks – they already knew where McKay was headed with this – and Michael studied the Wraith scanners. 'Yes. It can't differentiate between Human and Athosian but they are Humanoid.' Michael looked up at Rodney, frowning slightly. 'And Wraith.'

McKay dismissed the latter – they already knew Wraith would be swarming the mainland. 'The darts have a Wraith beam capable of storing plenty of people. Athosian and Human alike.' Sheppard caught on to what he was saying.

'So you think if we can beam them up, we can bring them back here?' McKay nodded, but he could see the question in everybody's eyes – Then what? They were still a Wraith Cruiser and the instant they attacked a Hive ship, they'd be caught out – and possibly killed.

'We have to try.' Beside Ronon, Aiden Ford had worked himself into a sitting position, one arm around a Lieutenant, McKay could never remember. Sheppard moved from his position at the controls – relinquishing them to Michael – and moved to Aiden's side.

'You okay?' Aiden's eyes flashed with something akin to irritation and McKay could well understand why. If the smothering way Sheppard had been treating him since they'd been aboard, had been the way he'd treated him the last eleven months, it was no wonder Ford was irritated.

'I'm fine. Better if you can find Beckett.' Aiden eyed Sheppard and raised an eyebrow. 'Which I believe requires-' He stopped, sucked in a breath and winced. His hands tightened on the Lieutenants hand – who, to his credit, managed not to wince – and then spoke in short gasps. 'Darts. On the Planet. Now.'

Sheppard looked concerned and then nodded, trying to cover up how uneasy he was. McKay was concerned as well. If they didn't find Beckett soon, and find out just how much damage Sheppard had caused with the Enzyme, then Ford's future was uncertain.

McKay was still painfully aware of how the enzyme could affect you, and he could well understand what had motivated Ford – especially into wanting more. But he also remembered how hard it had been to come off of it – the pain it had caused.

Sheppard rose again and turned to Michael. 'Is there anything we can do with this Cruiser? Have they noticed us yet?'

Michael was frowning. 'There seems to be a lull in the fighting…'

Rodney looked at the Wraith ships which were backing off of the Dedalus and Orion and Sheppard seemed to be thinking something other. 'They have to feed.' Rodney shook his head and moved back behind Michael's chair again, eyes roaming the amount of ships on either side.

'No. I don't think that's all it is.' Sheppard and Ronon were looking at him in confusion, and Ford was leaning against Russell, eyes glazing over in what Rodney knew was intense pain. 'Think about it… they have to have been fighting for at least eight months, which would mean that every now and then they re-group. Both sides.'

'But why? The Wraith would never allow us to re-group, not if they knew we were weak enough to cull like any other planet.' Lorne's words held a ring of truth to them but McKay was looking at the deeper picture and so, obviously, was Sheppard. He was looking at Rodney with a frown on his face – and the look that McKay had come to realise was deep thought.

'In-fighting?' He was asking McKay. Swallowing thickly, Rodney turned back to look at the Wraith ships and looked down at Michael – for the first time asking him like a person, instead of a Wraith.

'Is it possible they're fighting between themselves?'

Michael frowned and then nodded. 'Although it would require something to start of something that huge.' Michael looked up at Sheppard. 'We came to you a year ago with the plan to destroy a Wraith ship. Is it possible that they somehow managed to implement it in your absence?'

'Possible. There are others with the gene but…' Sheppard cut off and looked at McKay imploringly. He was asking him for a reason – an explanation – but Rodney had none to give.

'Zelenka could have figured out a way – and they had Beckett and others with the gene…' He let It hang. Of all the people left on Atlantis, the gene was stronger in Beckett. And if they had indeed managed to put the plan into action, Beckett would have had to have gone onto the Wraith Hive ship – and could still be on it. Rodney couldn't help but throw an anxious look in Aiden's direction. The more they waited – and thought – the less likely it was that anything was going to get done.

And the less likely they'd be able to save Ford – and Atlantis.

Michael's eyes widened and he pointed out towards the planet – and a swarm of darts that were moving towards the planet. 'A cull?'

John was at his side in minutes – face set in stone. 'If we go, we go now.' It was an order, and Lorne was already moving towards the corridor. McKay exchanged looks with Sheppard. He would remain behind. Not out of fear or need to do so. He had to protect Ford, and keep an eye on Michael. And he would be useless in a dart. Only Sheppard and Lorne had the ability to fly the things.

Rodney knew that Ronon was annoyed with the idea of having to stay behind, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. Sheppard paused – as if about to say something, but McKay didn't want any last words or sentiments. He propelled John towards the door. 'Go. If you can, could you please pick up a Doctor and an Athosian leader on your way round?'

It was his way of asking Sheppard to find out if Teyla and Beckett were still alive. The worries for Doctor Weir were also nibbling at the edges of his mind – but he was more focused on those who would have been absent from Atlantis when the attack started, rather than those who were on it.

Rodney turned back to the viewport – ready to watch the darts leave the safety of the Cruiser – and pray to every god he knew that they would not be found out. They were the last hope Atlantis had.

John let the Dart cruise easily over the planet – not liking how well he had taken to flying one. He still preferred the 'jumpers, but there was something to be said about having a ship as nimble as a Dart for recon.

He was worried about what he would find on the planet – if they could even get down – and wasn't sure how many people were alive down there – not what state they would be in. It was easy to assume the worst – that every human and Athosian on the Atlantica mainland was captured for Wraith feeding – but he knew that was unlikely. The Wraith were a take-no-prisoners kind of species.

He was trying to ignore the aches and pains of his body – but he could already feel the tight pinch of tired-ness and distraction. The torture he had suffered at the hands of the Wraith made him feel vaguely sick and he was more than aware that Ford's state of mind right now was because of him.

Even if Ford denied it, had Sheppard just given up information on Atlantis they could have both been saved.

Especially now that his attempts to circumvent the attack on Atlantis had been in vain. It cut deep to see his beloved home ravaged by Wraith – and he had recognised the look of horro and revulsion on McKay's face. It was on his own.

He could see the edge of Russell Lorne's Dart off to his left and he remembered easily when the Major had turned up on his Cruiser. A resilient major, Lorne had infiltrated the Wraith Cruiser and rescued Ford and himself from more hurt.

John cursed under his breath as the first signs of the mainland came into view – and the nausea returned full force as the razing that had obviously gone on. Destruction in abundance, and death obvious from the signs. Sheppard flew his Dart alongside the others and Lorne fell into step behind. The tow of them scoured the grounds or any signs of survivors and for the first time Sheppard realised this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

Nobody on the planet would risk getting caught out in the open and John knew that in order to save them – he would need to see them.

This plan really hadn't been well thought out at all. Just as he and Lorne made a sharp bank to the right – towards the ground they knew better than the Wraith, John recognised the sound in the Dart as a warning.

The warning for what, happened three seconds later when the fire came out of nowhere, and slammed into his Dart, throwing them off course – and into the tree's. The last thing he saw before darkness was a familiar head of brown hair – a P90 in her hands.