WHERE THE BUFFALO ROAM - by NotTasha

PART 4: THE DROWNING POOL

Ronon fought. The vines held him down. They seemed almost intelligent in their movements, purposefully tugging at his wrists, restraining his arms and holding tight to his legs.

They were strong.

But Ronon was strong -- and he had knives.

He gained a little with each slice, slashing until he had the space to direct the blades back toward himself and cut at the vines that attempted to restrain him. He twisted, getting his knees beneath him, and freed his sword.

It was then that he saw Teyla – and the repugnant mouth.

"Ronon!" she shouted as it pulled her, as her legs fought for balance in the tangle of vines. Then she turned toward the pulsing opening. She tried to dig in, but could do nothing as it forced her onward.

Ronon roared as he fought to stand upright, the sword flying. It slashed mercilessly at the vines, slicing them from stalks, paring the long vines, pruning most horribly.

Ivy kept reaching for him – almost like hands. "Teyla!" he shouted as it continued to pull at her. He released another knife free to heft it at the thing.

Her feet were off the ground. The thing was lifting her, wrapping itself around her body like ropes.

He didn't know where to aim. The moist, smacking mouth opened wide and he flung the knife into the soft opening and it shivered.

Then, with one wretched movement, it propelled her the final distance and popped her into the wet and vulgar mouth-like opening. The whole thing contracted, and started to squeeze its opening shut from the bottom up.

Ronon roared with rage as he flung another knife, hitting the writhing stalk just above the still open 'mouth'.

Still visible within the horrid plant, Teyla fought. Her hands were freed from the vines, but the opening was closing, tightening around her, squeezing her body until she could not move. Only her head was visible as she struggled.

Ronon forced himself toward her, snapping vines that they went off like gunshots. Teyla disappeared from sight as the plant continued its fight to contain him.

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"Push on it!" Sheppard barked. "Come on!"

"I am!" Sheppard trying to lift the lid as McKay pressed his back against it. "It's not moving," Rodney cried.

Sheppard strained, pulling hard on the grate as the water poured in below. "Damn it, McKay. You're not even trying!"

"It's not moving. Before, it did. I could lift it a little bit. It's locked down now," McKay whined. "Oh God! Oh God, it's not moving at all!" He stopped shoving and looked up at Sheppard through the grate. "I'm trapped!"

"Calm down!" Sheppard insisted as he struggled, still trying to get the lid to move, but it remained in place – locked down. Beneath him, Rodney was on the ladder, with the water already reaching him. Damn it!

"Is there a lever or something up there? There must be! Find it!" McKay insisted. "Get me out!"

Sheppard sat back, and studied the walls, looking for anything that looked like a re-set switch. With a groan, he forced himself upward, trying to ignore the pain that surged through his foot.

"Hurry!" McKay called. "It's getting higher! I don't think… I don't think it's going to stop when it reaches the top. I think it's going to keep filling this whole tank. There's a good foot or so of room beyond this lid!"

"I know!" Sheppard ground out as he hobbled to the wall, not wanting to think about the condition of his foot. He groped at the gauges and toggles. "Which one?" he shouted over his shoulder.

"How the hell should I know?" Rodney shot back, and then, "Maybe something big... and red?"

Sheppard frowned. "Nothing like that."

"Green then! Green is good for a safety switch!"

"No colors, McKay!"

"A big lever? Some sort of switch, lever, toggle, maybe a wheel? A wheel valve?"

Sheppard tried a lever, and then another, switching them one way and then another as nothing happened.

"Are you doing anything?" Rodney asked, his voice reedy.

"I'm trying anything I can find!" Sheppard responded as he moved another. He frowned as he listened, wondering if there should be some sound accompanying the change in lever position. There wasn't even a 'click'. "Nothing's working. They don't seem to be hooked up to anything."

"Sheppard!" McKay shouted from behind him. "Do something!"

"Hang in there, Rodney." Sheppard kept trying, stumbling and swearing as his foot gave him grief. Another step, and his leg nearly gave way beneath him. He cursed loudly.

"Sheppard?" McKay called again. "It's getting really high."

"Just… don't panic," Sheppard responded, his hands flitting across various controls that he didn't understand.

"Don't panic? I think this is a very good reason for panic! I've got an excellent reason for a full on panic attack right now!"

"Rodney! Just… just… try…" Sheppard ordered. "I'll fix it. I swear to you, I'll get you out."

"It's just that… oh God…" More splashing. "It's up to my waist now and it's getting higher. Oh God… oh God this sucks."

There was no place for Rodney to go inside that tank –certainly the room was a water tank. The water would keep rising to that grate – beyond it – and Rodney had nowhere to go.

What the hell was that thing for? The room seemed set up for drowning people. What sort of freaked-out mind thought up crap like this? Sheppard worked, frantic to find something that would deactivate the room, but all his button pushing and toggle punching led to nothing. The wall of controls had to deactivated. He slammed a fist against it.

"Sheppard? What are you doing up there? Because… I can't see from down here and it doesn't sound like you're..." There was some splashing and Rodney coughed. "God, this sucks!"

"Just hold on," Sheppard shouted gave up on finding a switch. "That's all I'm asking, Rodney." He wasn't going to find a secret dial or mystery toggle. Nothing here worked. "Damn it," he whispered. "Just hold on."

"That's pretty much all I can do right now. What I really want to do is be able to breathe!"

Sheppard glanced toward the lower room – the water tank – and suddenly had an idea. He started his search anew -- his gaze raked the room.

"It's too high!" McKay shouted, his voice getting gobbled up as he coughed. "I think the water's coming in faster. It's at my neck! This is bad. This is so bad!"

Come on, Sheppard thought. Just let me find it! With a gasp of relief, he spotted what he needed and scrambled to another wall. "I got it, Rodney! You're going to be okay!" His hands grasped onto a pipe, and yanked at the coupling where it went into the wall. It wouldn't give. Frantically, he worked at the joint, working the bolt that secured it to the next pipe.

"This sucks… this sucks… this sucks…" Rodney sputtered. "You got to open it now! Now! I'm not going to be able to…"

The bottom of the pipe came loose, along with the 90 degree fitting that had secured it. "Almost there, Rodney."

"Sheppard? Sheppard? If this doesn't work. I want… I want you to…"

"Shut up, Rodney," Sheppard ordered as he stepped back. He used all his weight to wrench the pipe, to pull it loose from above. With a shriek, the metal bent, then it came apart with a loud snap. He stepped badly and he went down in a ball of agony.

"What are you… doing?" McKay called.

Shit, shit, shit, shit! Sheppard rolled onto his side. His foot screamed at him, and he resisted the urge to grasp hold of the barking foot and just cradle it. Instead, he crawled, dragging himself to the tank. "Rodney, I'm back!"

"Great… great…" and Rodney coughed again, sputtering pathetically. "'Cause this is no fun at all."

Sheppard kept his expression schooled as he looked into the tank. The water had reached the grate. McKay had his head tipped back, his mouth shoved up through the hole, clinging with one hand to the bars, while the other – undoubtedly—steadied him on the ladder.

"Can't you open the top?" McKay asked, his eyes wide and beseeching. "Please... please…"

"I will," Sheppard promised as he twisted the metal pipe around, offering the end with the bent fitting to Rodney. "But this will buy us some time."

McKay fixed frightened eyes on it, not understanding. Water lapped around his lips as he pressed against the bars, trying to get another breath as the water steadily rose. In another moment, he wouldn't be able to get his mouth any higher and he'd be out of air.

"Snorkel!" Sheppard yelled, shoving the pipe at him.

Comprehension dawned and Rodney grasped for the pipe, awkwardly trying to get it into his mouth, but finding the angle difficult. "I'm going to break my teeth," Rodney groaned.

Small price, Sheppard thought then, pointed downward at him. "Get yourself more upright. It'll work. I promise! Put your head underwater."

McKay gave him an anxious look as he fit the end of the pipe in his mouth, and then ducked his head down.

Sheppard carefully fed the pipe, making sure it followed Rodney easily so that one end stayed above water, while the other wouldn't get knocked out of his mouth. Trusting him, McKay now had the top of his head against the gate and his head totally submerged.

The water kept rising, but the pipe was long enough to stay out of the water. Sheppard held the end of the tube to his ear and could hear the gasping breaths coming through. Thank you, he thought. Thank you. It had worked.

He sat, getting his screaming foot out from under him.

Water had risen over the grate by at least an inch and was getting higher, and Sheppard sat quietly for a moment, listing to the air that huffed through the pipe. Too fast.

"Calm down, Rodney," Sheppard said firmly. He reached out and put his hand on top of Rodney's – the hand that still grasped the grate. "Calm down." The water was cold – too chilled -- and he grimaced with the realization that even though Rodney could breathe, he wouldn't last long.

Damn it!

This seriously sucked.

Sheppard shouted, "I'm going to figure this out, okay? I need to let go of the pipe! Are you ready?"

He had no idea of Rodney heard him, but he couldn't just sit here.

He let go. Please… The pipe wobbled a moment and then came straight again. Good job, Rodney.

"I'm not going far," he promised. "I have to find a way to get you out, okay?"

He wasn't expecting anything, but he would have felt better if he'd received some sort of reply.

With a groan, Sheppard struggled to his feet, and then limped painfully toward the controls to find something that could help him. He had to find the right switch, the right lever. Something here had to help him.

As he moved, he tried his radio again, calling for Ronon and Teyla.

Nothing.

Damn… damn. What had happened to them? Could it be any worse than this?

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TBC - Hey, snorkeling can be fun, right?