Title: Dreary Night
Author: Tazmy
Spoilers: Anything is fair game up until mid-third season finale.
Written for the Halloween challenge. Big thanks and hugs to Sholio, Kodiak Bear, Angw and skypig21 for betas, edits, and encouragement.
Part One
Even as a child Rodney despised Halloween. Everything about the holiday made him want to crawl into his room, turn off the lights, and barricade the door. Not that he ever had that option. No, among other things, Rodney was expected to take his little—read 'bratty'—sister trick-or-treating. As if that and the biting cold weren't deterrent enough, he was always forced to dress up in some ridiculous costume that his insane mother concocted—guaranteed to itch and otherwise humiliate. No doubt about it, Halloween sucked.
"Move it, Jeannie!" He grabbed for her left arm, pulling with just enough force to thrust her forward but not knock her over.
"Quit it, Mer. I'm walking as fast as I can."
"Well, it's obviously not fast enough. If we don't make it home by nine, mom's going to be pissed."
Their breaths hung in the air, as though suspended in place by the frost. Rodney watched the trees, distorted and frightening in the moonlight, with wide, cautious eyes. He was a genius so he knew they really were nothing but trees, but they loomed over his head as though they were monsters coming in for the kill.
Behind him, Jeannie continued her struggle to move forward and still keep her horde of candy. She lost the fight eventually, her left foot slipping on the ice. She fell with a soft scream, her candy clattering on the street below.
"Stop fooling around, Jeannie. We don't have time for this."
"You are the worst brother ever!" Jeannie swept her blonde curls behind her face, taking her brother's offered hand as leverage. Blood trickled from her left knee, but she ignored it while coming to her feet. "Would it kill you to enjoy yourself for just one Halloween, Mer?"
"I don't like being out here, that's all. Can we go home now, please?" He wasn't beyond begging. His hands were beginning to burn in the cold, and he had read enough about frostbite to think it might be happening to him. He leaned over, helping Jeannie salvage what candy could be saved, clumsily mixing them within his own pot.
"Hey, you can't…"
"We'll share when we get home. Now come on!"
They arrived at the house a few minutes later only to hear the sound of screams and clattering dishes. Rodney's hand hesitated on the doorknob. If he concentrated on not listening, he could almost avoid hearing what they were yelling.
"Please, Mer," Jeannie turned to him, biting her lip softly, "don't make me go in. Please."
It was getting dark and there were fewer people on the street than Rodney would have liked. They really should stay where it was safe and warm, but the loud shouts were frightening. This wasn't the first time he had come home to find such a scene, and he had learned long ago that the best place to be was far away. So he nodded softly, patting his hand on her shoulders, "C'mon."
As the breeze picked up, the clouds came faster, covering the full moon on their journey. There weren't many street lamps in this area so it was hard to see. Rodney huddled into his vampire cape, thankful that his mom had taken into account the Canadian weather by fashioning his cape from a heavy cloak. His heart beat rapidly. He surveyed the streets for signs of other people. Still, he kept moving away from his house, convinced that whatever was out here was better than what was in there.
"Ma…Maybe we should go back," Jeannie stuttered, covering her gloved hands with her witch's robes.
"You heard them. If you want to head back, fine. But I'm not…I can't…"
Their frightened stares locked, but Jeannie relented in the end, nodding as her curls bounced.
They walked in silence for some time, watching as the last of the trick-or-treaters made their way back into their homes. Now they were alone, a ten-year-old and a six-year-old facing the dark night.
It was freezing in the flowing mist, but Rodney couldn't stagger far enough away to escape. He didn't understand because there wasn't supposed to be mist in Atlantis, just doctors running to help him with his injury. But there was no Carson here. Not even Biro. The soldiers that had half-dragged his injured self through the gate were gone as well.
He was shaking everywhere now, unable to control the tremors passing through his body. It was cold and hot, and the knife wound on his side burned. Just like it had when Sheppard had shot him in the same place only a few months ago. He pressed his hand further into the wound, moaning from the pain it caused but still pushing in more to the control the bleeding.
He tried to ignore the howl coming from some distance away. It sounded like a coyote, but he wasn't ruling out some sort of alien werewolf. Maybe that faint glow ahead was a full moon. A slight laugh escaped his lips as he realized just how ridiculous his mind was acting today. Sure, it was Halloween back on Earth, but not here. Pegasus didn't have a clue about his least-favorite holiday and he'd like to keep it that way. His injury was clouding his mind, distracting him with ridiculous ideas.
He knew he needed to find the DHD and dial home, but seeing past the fog just wasn't going to happen. Instead, he fell to the ground, catching himself on a curved piece of cement. The clouds cleared just enough around the moon that a spotlight emanated from the sky, casting itself on the strange object.
"Here lies Meredith McKay. He couldn't save any of them. He couldn't even save himself."
The tombstone barely registered before the rest of the world went dark. He didn't notice the skeletal creatures that came, lifted him onto a stretcher, and carried him away toward the giant castle in the distance.
John Sheppard emerged from the wormhole with his P-90 raised and Teyla by his side. He was immediately thankful for the warm clothing and thin black gloves, as he felt the biting frost and cold winds. Visibility was quickly approaching epsilon, which was to say non-existent. Placing the night-vision goggles on his head, he saw some stone shapes in the distance, but nothing human.
He moved forward cautiously, making sure there was room for Beckett, Lorne, Zelenka, and a few marines to come through, as well. The wormhole closed, taking away the only source of light for miles. Thank God for the goggles.
Lorne lifted his life signs detector into his field of sight. "I am reading multiple life signs, all around us."
"I am also detecting strange energy readings." Zelenka clutched his scanner in one hand, his P-90 still resting on his thigh. He was one of the better shots among the scientists, so that was something at least. Still, Sheppard would have felt better if Rodney were here trying to work everything out. Given the circumstances, well…if they had Rodney they wouldn't exactly be scoping out this planet anyway.
"Rodney!" he shouted, his voice echoing four times before disappearing into the fog. A beacon of light appeared some feet ahead where Sheppard figured the clouds must have made way for the moon. But there was no answer-Rodney, alien, or otherwise.
"Doctor McKay, can you hear us?" Teyla called into her radio. When no reply came, she turned toward Zelenka. "We are sure that this is where he was sent?" She was shivering despite the warm clothing, as were they all. Sheppard figured it couldn't be more than ten degrees above zero.
Teyla fumbled some with the weapon, unsure how to handle it with the gloves. She was generally good at adapting, though, so he knew she'd figure it out when necessary.
Zelenka was talking, so Sheppard tried to listen while keeping up his survey of the area. "Yes, we were lucky that the one time McKay steps through a faulty gate, it is on planet with lots of backups including tracing wormhole trajectories. The gate managed to save his pattern and send it to the closest available gate, which is here."
Sheppard had heard all of this before, but it helped hearing it once more, because it meant that McKay might still be alive. Which was more than could be said for the soldiers who had tried bringing the injured scientist home. "McKay?" he called again, if only to quell the fear tangling itself within his guts.
"Given the poison alone, I'd say he has no more than three hours." Carson fumbled with his pack, his 9-mil also on his thigh. "However, the knife injury is far more severe. Stomach wounds are nasty buggers and frankly, we need to get to him now."
"I'm not giving up on him," Sheppard said firmly, the events of the last few days far too vivid in his mind. One more day in the Pegasus Galaxy equaled one more life hanging in the balance, and this time it was Rodney's. A random villager had gone insane and stabbed Rodney for no noticeable reason, and then had managed to stab Ronon, who of course won the overall battle. The rest, well, that was history and didn't matter much to him right now. What mattered was getting to Rodney.
"Okay, let's split up. Zelenka, Rodriguez, and Dr. Grimes, you're with me. Teyla, Lorne, Beckett, and Deschutes, head toward the left. Radio calls every fifteen minutes. If a team fails to make contact, continue the search until 0100 hours and then head back to the gate and get help for the others. Clear?" Just a short while ago he had accidentally shot Rodney, he wasn't going to risk losing him again.
Sheppard's team headed straight for the only sign of anything on this planet, concrete markers surrounded distorted trees. Zelenka was following close behind. A howl crossed through the night sky, and Zelenka jumped, holding back a startled scream. Dr. Grimes did the same, clutching her medical bag closer to her chest.
"Rodney would choose to get lost on a planet such as this," Zelenka muttered, "all so he could laugh about me having to go off world."
"Where were the life signs you were picking up, Sir?" Rodriguez looked about as uncomfortable as the scientists, but he spoke and acted with confidence, one of the reasons Sheppard had chosen to bring him on this mission.
"According to this, they should be right here."
The team exchanged concerned glances before they all jumped back in unison, close enough now to see the gray markers.
"Tombstones," Zelenka and Sheppard exclaimed in unison.
"We are in a graveyard." Dr. Grimes' voice was calm given the circumstances, and it was clear that though she had been startled earlier, she would hide it better next time. Sheppard could see it in the way she held her back straight, gripping her 9-mil as though she had always carried one. Maybe she had; he needed to read her profile. "But why life signs?"
"Catacombs, maybe," Rodriguez answered. "Didn't early Christians hold services underground among the graves of the dead in order to avoid persecution?"
As Rodriguez spoke, Sheppard knelt to the ground, dusting off the cement block. "It's a good place to hide if you don't want to be found. I'm willing to bet Rodney's down there with the rest of the life signs."
"That is a bet I am…Oh my..." Zelenka's face became a few shades paler, and Sheppard was sure his did the same. "I must be hallucinating. That cannot say…"
Sheppard had to concentrate on steadying his hand and voice, as he read aloud, "Here lies Amanda McKay. Age 40. Her son was the death of her."
"It is possible that Rodney shares his last name with an alien family. The universe is large." As Zelenka spoke, a howl echoed through the graveyard once more.
"Shit." Sheppard flung the goggles off his face and saw Zelenka do the same. "Did yours just shock you?"
"Yes, as I see yours did you. It does not make sense that they would both malfunction at the same time." Beside him, Rodriguez and Grimes took startled steps back, taking off their own goggles.
"Let's just find McKay and get out of here."
"I am inclined to agree with you, Colonel."
He tried wearing the goggles again, but they still didn't work. At least the fog was clearing, so the moon's glow was enough to guide them through the winding graveyard. Sheppard began the trek, shivering as a chilling wind brushed past. Dust from the tombs flew into the air, losing itself among the mist. In its wake, etched words on stone remained.
Rodriguez read them aloud. "Rest in Peace, Brendan Gaul, he died a valiant death, no thanks to his boss.
"R.I.P., Peter Grodin, he will always be missed."
"This is too great a coincidence, Colonel." Zelenka stowed the useless scanner and then drew his 9-mil as though just remembering that he had it.
Sheppard nodded. "Just this morning, Rodney was complaining about Halloween. How he hated everything to do with the holiday from obsessions with death to the wandering around in the cold."
"And now we are on a spooky planet."
"Any ideas?"
"The energy readings have disappeared. It would seem all of our equipment no longer works here. So no, no ideas other than the ridiculous. Perhaps we are seeing manifestations from Rodney's own mind?"
"Now that's a disturbing thought." Sheppard grabbed the life signs detector again, not surprised that all of the life signs had also disappeared, including their own. Activating the radio, he spoke quickly. "Teyla, Lorne, please respond."
Static.
"Teyla, Lorne, this is Sheppard. Please respond."
More static.
"The radios are dead?" Dr. Grimes asked, her voice trembling slightly. Her hand holding the weapon didn't shake, though, and that was what mattered.
Beside him, Rodriguez calmly tried his own radio. "Nothing, Sir."
"So if the others find Rodney, they have no way of notifying us," Radek noted.
"As long as they bring Rodney back, I'm willing to live with that. 0100 hours folks, that's three hours away." Sheppard surveyed the surroundings once more, noting how ominous everything was. "Let's keep moving."
They moved as one down the winding path, stepping between the stones. There were forty, maybe fifty in all. Sheppard wondered just how many of them were like the others, bearing the names of people Rodney carried in his mind as though their deaths were his burden. He wondered if maybe his own graveyard in his mind would look the same, but then he realized his would be much larger. He glanced at the black band on his arm, continuing forward, wondering how these graves had appeared here in the first place.
"Sir!" Spinning to the left, Sheppard's P-90's light fell on the white face of Lt. Rodriguez. He was breathing loudly, his chest moving in and out at far too fast a rate. "There was something here, Sir. A shadow of some kind."
Sheppard swept the area with the light from his P-90, while Rodriguez did the same. Zelenka and Grimes, meanwhile, used their flashlights. Everyone came up empty.
"Whatever it was, it's gone now." Sheppard's P-90 came to rest, pointing toward the area where Rodriguez had originally seen the shadow. There was another tombstone there, this one much smaller than the rest, but isolated on a short platform covered in weeds. One sole tree stood beside it, its wiry branches reaching out into the particularly dark night.
Sheppard had had enough of these engravings, but felt compelled to kneel down and read the engravings anyway. "Here lies Meredith McKay. He couldn't save any of them. He couldn't even save himself."
He wouldn't admit, if asked, to the sudden drop in his stomach at seeing those words. There was just something inherently wrong with looking at one of his friend's graves, even if it wasn't real—couldn't be real. "What the hell is going on here?"
There were no answers. He wasn't really expecting any. He wondered if maybe he should have brought Heightmeyer along so he could see what she made of this place.
"Colonel?" This time it was Zelenka who spoke, his voice little more than a squeak.
Sheppard faced the scientist only to see him fall over, catching himself on one of the tombstones. He was trembling fiercely. Then Sheppard realized that it wasn't really him trembling, but the ground. Rodriguez and Grimes gave startled cries as the ground beneath them began to do the same.
Zelenka managed to jump away from the grave just as an arm thrust up from beneath, its hand rolled into a tight fist.
TBC
