Mulder, where are you?
The words echoed across his consciousness, vague and disconnected. She was worried - he knew that, but what he'd found was so much more important. He struggled to focus wavering vision on the glowing object that had called to him from among the ruins. His mind was bright with its purpose and function on a near telepathic level.
"Scu . . . Scul. . . ." His voice was little more than pitiful rasping, and his body, ravaged by exhaustion and injury, could not find the strength to go any farther. Numbed fingers gave up the battle, and the cell phone fell away to the dessert floor.
Mulder! I need to know where you are! Mulder . . . . The frantic words drifted away on the wind.
"Sheppard! Found something! Not Wraith!"
A deep voice boomed above him, shocking his brain to semi-consciousness. He squinted into the darkness, fixing on a giant hairy shadow that blocked out much of the night sky. The big hairy head of the giant moved in closer and what adrenaline remained in his system spiked. Large human-feeling hands easily restrained him.
"Careful, Ronon. I believe he is ill." Another voice faded in, accompanied by a face framed in tendrils of dark hair. He caught exotically beautiful features when she moved into the moonlight. A smaller hand settled against his forehead, communicating comfort. "His fever is very high."
He struggled to focus as the voices began to whirl around him. Titling his head in the direction of approaching foot falls took monumental effort. The foot steps echoed to an abrupt halt.
"How'd he get here? We evacuated Area 51."
"Doesn't matter, McKay."
"And why would you say that? All personnel were accounted for. We're tracking pieces of Wraith tech, remember? He's probably one of those UFO hunters who've descended like the plague."
"Because, Rodney, he's got the gene."
Silence. "Really?"
"Yes, really. He's got one of those portable storage device things in his hand. It's activated."
"Hmph. He must be new. I know all of the Area 51 gene carriers on sight."
"Great. Let's get him back to the jumper. We can figure out who he is once we're on Atlantis. Ronon, you grab his shoulders, I'll take his feet. Teyla, grab his cell phone. Rodney --"
"I'll just take the PSD. He shouldn't have it out here, anyway – a fact I plan to communicate to his supervisor at my earliest opportunity."
Hands settled on his shoulders, and others grabbed at his legs while the glowing blue object was pried from his fingers. Its absence tore at him, and the world shifted then dissolved into darkness.
~*~
When next he opened his eyes, it was to light. The light resolved to painted walls and the muted tones of hospital décor. A sound to the left drew his attention to the room's other occupant. "Scully. Where am I?"
"San Francisco."
"San Francisco?" That made no sense at all. "How'd I get to San Francisco?"
"You tell me."
"How'd you find me?"
"Someone called me on your cell phone late last night and told me you'd be here." She lifted his Blackberry from the bedside and waved it at him.
He tried to reconcile what she'd just told him with his memories of previous events. "Was there anything else? It was oval, maybe looked like an MP3 player with blue lights?"
"No, this is all you had with you. You didn't even have ID."
He closed his eyes, remembering the connection, feeling its loss. "They took it."
"No, actually, you left your ID in a rental car in New Mexico."
He turned and looked at her, willing her to understand. "The device, Scully. I found it, and they took it. But this time I have names."
She sighed.
"Atlantis. Stargate Command. Sheppard. McKay. Ronon. Teyla."
"What does any of that mean, Mulder?"
"It means the truth is still out there, and I'm going to find it."