WHERE THE BUFFALO ROAM - by NotTasha
PART 6: IN THE MUD
This sucks. God, this sucks.
Rodney waited in the cold, sucking air through an unpleasant metal pipe that he could no longer feel or taste. He held on, even though his hands had become numb. He waited. He hoped. He held on. After all, Sheppard had told him to 'hang on'. Sheppard had promised to get him out.
He will. I just hope it's soon. How long now? If I'd only kept track of the seconds, I'd be able to say. Maybe, it was better to be left in the dark.
There was a strange noise. He stiffened as he listened – trying to figure it out, but he'd heard nothing like it before. The water seemed to throb and thrum around him.
What? What was that?
The sound became a screech, and Rodney's heart raced. What was that?!
Not a whale. Not a whale!
The screeching continued, high and fierce, as the water seemed to pulse. It was getting louder. Finally, in spite of himself, he opened his eyes. It always hurt to open eyes underwater and it took a moment for him to discern what was around him. Light still streamed in from above the grid, and he could see shadows -- human shapes. He blinked upward, and made out two shadows.
Teyla? Ronon? Oh, thank God! Thank God! It had to be one of them with John -- unless it was the Wraith.
Why did you think of that? Why are you always thinking of things like that?
It's a survival instinct. Always consider the worst case scenario and things will have to turn out better than that. Yeah, and you considered that you might be trapped in some sort of water vault, destined to drown or freeze or that you'd be eaten by space whales today! I'd like to see them put a solution to THAT in those clever books.
Those are not Wraith. There are no whales in here.
The shadows moved above his head, but something else caught his attention and he lowered his gaze to peer forward. A horrible reddish blur appeared on the far side of the room. Something shrieked in the water.
He didn't mean to panic.
It was a shock when he lost the pipe. His mouth was too numb to feel it, and it just fell, and it was a miracle that he didn't just breathe in water. For a startled second, he held his breath, terrified. How could he be so stupid! So damn stupid.
He reached, trying to find the snorkel, but his hands were like wooden blocks and he had no hope of grasping a pipe that had long since fallen.
He lost his grip on the ladder—and let out a shout of terror as he dropped into the water – and then, with a jarring yank, he was pulled.
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The building rocked with the force of the explosion. The water foamed and frothed with the violence of its ejection as it was sucked from the room, and Teyla reached again, her arm straining through the bars of the cage below. As the space emptied, her eyes searched, finding no trace of the scientist.
The tank was vacant. Light streamed in from where doors had been previously sealed.
She staggered to her feet, hating her uncertain balance and the uneasiness of her stomach. She felt horrible. There had been something in that plant. She'd certainly ingested some of it when she was squeezed inside the thing, and now she was suffering for it.
She looked to John. He was trying to keep his feet under him. His eyes remained focused on the now empty tank. He kept searching as if he expected to see Rodney.
He raised his gaze and found hers. For a moment, there was fear and uncertainty – and then he ordered, "Find him!"
Teyla gave a tight nod as she rushed toward the door, pleading with the Ancestors for the strength to keep moving. Her legs felt determined to trip her, and her hands – still slick with the vile liquid of the plant – had little purchase and the handle of the door slipped in her grasp.
She forced the door fully open and followed the direction that Ronon had taken, around the building and down the slope. She struggled to keep from falling, feeling her stomach churning with a building illness. Her head ached and the world seemed to swim around her and she forced away the dots that clouded her vision.
She blinked as she came around the corner of the building, momentarily confused by the sight.
Water had carved out a channel – tearing into the dry land and pooling to form an unpleasant looking mud. One of the building's huge doors was blown from its hinges and was carried some distance. Ronon was sprawled out on his back a good dozen yards beyond the door. Rodney, in-between the building and the door, was curled on his side.
Water continued to flow away from the scene, down the little channel that must have once been a riverbed. Everything looked scarred and mauled, as if some giant animal had dragged a great claw through the land.
Ronon lifted his arm, and rubbed a hand over his muddy face. Rodney wasn't moving at all.
Determinedly, Teyla forced herself onward, having to concentrate to move her legs. Everything seemed to spin, and she held out her arms to keep her balance.
"Rodney," she called. "Rodney?" But Rodney remained still, his arms folded in front of himself, his hands curled to his chest. She would have called out to Ronon, but didn't trust herself to be capable of holding a conversation at the moment. And she doubted that Ronon would be able to answer coherently either.
She squelched through the mud. The distance, usually not an issue to her, seemed ridiculously far and she struggled with each step, determined to keep moving – to reach her friends.
Finally she drew nearer, close enough to see that Ronon's eyes were open and he was looking in the direction of Rodney. The big man was making an attempt to sit up, and failing. Rodney still hadn't moved. His face was turned so that she could not see it, and still he hadn't moved.
Ronon kept trying to force himself upright.
Teyla swallowed and continued forward. Little spasms were firing along her legs, and she knew she couldn't keep going for long.
She still couldn't tell if Rodney was breathing. She forced herself through the last few feet, and then squished down in the mud beside him.
Everything continued to spin, and she fought with her stomach, determined not to be ill, not while her team needed her. She closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them, she could see Ronon looking at her, and she lowered her gaze to Rodney.
His face was turned to the mud. His hair was matted. His clothing was soaked. His eyes were closed and his skin was unnaturally pale, but his mouth was open -- and he breathed.
Teyla let out a sigh of relief and reached a hand to touch his pale features. "Rodney," she called.
At the touch, Rodney gasped and his eyes fluttered open. The blue looked incredibly deep compared to the white of his skin. Water drops was caught in his long lashes, and he closed his eyes, wearily.
"Rodney," she called again, brushing against his face gently, feeling the chill in his skin. She glanced up as she saw movement. Ronon was sitting up, looking dazed but victorious. "Rodney, talk to me," Teyla spoke.
Rodney scrunched up his face and drew himself into a ball, muttering a hoarse, " 'm cold." And he started to shiver.
"Can you sit up?" she asked tentatively. "It would be good to get you off of the wet ground. Can you sit up?" she repeated.
He opened his eyes again and then sighed. "Think so," he murmured, his voice a low slur, and then he coughed. The action wracked his body.
Teyla waited until the episode passed, and then asked, "Are you ready?"
"No," Rodney mumbled petulantly.
"I will help you," Teyla promised.
It took some effort from both of them, but soon Rodney was sitting upright, shaking and drawing his hands into his sodden clothing. He sneezed and rubbed an arm under his nose. Mud caked one side of his face. "I'm cold," he reiterated and then coughed again, shaking his whole body with the effort.
Teyla helped him sit as Ronon staggered to his feet. The Satedan lurched toward them his movements reminding Teyla of the stories her grandfather told her of the legendary Quidnet that lived in the forests of Old Athos.
Ronon's gaze fixed on both of them as he moved around the bent and blasted door.
"We need to get him out of these clothes," Teyla said emphatically as Rodney started to lean. Ronon's coat was nearly as wet as Rodney's clothing– and everything she had was soaked through with the plant's foul sap. "It would be best if we moved him away from this mud as well."
Ronon nodded, his chin coming to rest on his chest. When he came alongside them, he grunted, then slumped further, until his legs folded. He landed with a jarring thump on his rump.
Teyla winced, and she hoped that the mud had cushioned his fall. Rodney's head was on her shoulder as he continued to shiver.
"You know," Rodney said, his teeth chattering. "You're pretty… gross." With deliberation, he righted himself and ran a hand across his head where it had touched Teyla's shoulder.
"I am aware of this," Teyla said quietly.
"Seriously, gross," he muttered as he made a face and pulled back his hand to look at it. "I got… goo in my ear now." A violent shudder ran through him as he wrapped his arms around himself.
"I'm sorry," Teyla said genuinely. "I like it no better than you."
"I think I've been through enough already… thank you very much," Rodney went on. "What with the… water and the… room with the…" His voice trailed off as he turned dully toward the building. "I'm out?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse. "I'm out?"
"You are out of that tank," Teyla assured. "Ronon was able to free you." And she looked fondly at the Satedan – who smacked his lips and looked straight in front of him. His eyes were unfocused. A great red welt was already visible across his chest where something large had struck him, and a knot was forming on his head. He bobbed.
Rodney's gaze was on the building with the drowning tank. "I used to like water," he said quietly. "In spite of the whales and all that. Used to like it." It took him a few minutes to take his attention from the building and look toward Ronon. "He doesn't look so good," Rodney muttered, then as he gazed toward Teyla. "And you… What… what is that… stuff?" He sneezed.
"I had difficulty with a plant," Teyla summarized.
"In the greenhouse? Figures. They're no damn good." Rodney snorted, which made him cough again, and he shook as he clutched his arms around his chest.
"Yes, the greenhouse," Teyla answered, trying not to think too deeply about the plant that had encased her. She'd been terrified, hardly able to move. It had been a nightmare, come to life – knowing that Ronon was in danger and she was totally incapacitated. She'd fought with all the strength she had, even as the air became stale and she swallowed some of the vile liquid within the plant.
She fought to help Ronon. She fought to free herself. She had fought to get back to her team. She had fought to return to Kanaan and Torren. It was that horror of never seeing her child again that gave her the strength to reach her P90 as the plant constricted her. It gave her the might to pull the trigger as she nearly suffocated.
"You look sick. You okay?" Rodney asked.
Teyla smiled slightly at the softness of his question, the genuine concern in his eyes. Honestly, she felt horrible. Her stomach churned, her limbs felt heavy and ungainly, her head throbbed and the spots were darkening in her vision. The goo, completing coating her, made her feel sticky and disgusting. "I will be well," she told him, believing it.
"He looks pretty awful, too," Rodney added, inclining his head slightly toward the building. His head dropped almost immediately as he shivered again.
Teyla turned to where Rodney had indicated. Everything seemed to tilt around her with the movement. It took a moment for her vision to clear and she made out Sheppard doggedly heading toward them, limping.
John kept moving, each step obviously giving him pain. "Are they okay?" he asked, looking from one of his teammates to the next.
"But I believe that Ronon has a concussion and chest injuries. Rodney is hypothermic." She worked at getting the soaked jacket off of the scientist.
Rodney let her, but clutched at his shirt when she tried to undo it. "I can undress myself…" he grumbled.
"Let her help," Sheppard ordered as he propelled himself onward, his face taut.
Rodney gave him an unhappy look and kept trying to remove the shirt, but his hands failed to work for him, and he pulled at the fasteners with frustration.
When he reached them, John eased himself down, to sit in the mud with the rest of them. He gazed toward Ronon. "He's looking a little unbalanced," John stated.
Ronon turned toward them slowly and said, "I burned the hinges off one of the doors." He lifted his blaster for emphasis. Teyla smiled slightly, glad to hear him speak.
"So that's what happened," John responded as he leaned in to help Teyla get Rodney out of his wet shirt.
"Didn't think…" Ronon started, but seemed to run out of steam.
"Understatement," Rodney muttered as his teeth chattered.
"… it would come off like that," Ronon finally completed. "Bang." He blinked. "It was fast."
"Could you stop clenching your arms to your body?" John snapped at Rodney as he tried to work the wet shirt off. "Come on already, relax!"
Rodney turned to Teyla before returning his attention to John. "She's got stuff all over her," he said, his voice still slurring, and he let his arms loosen. "Seriously, it's gross."
"Yeah, I know," Sheppard said as he worked his side of the shirt off of Rodney's arms. "She smells bad, too."
Teyla crinkled her nose.
"She's sick. You'd better …" Rodney started and began coughing again, and once the shirt came loose, his arms immediately curled back to his chest as he shuddered.
Teyla used the sopping shirt in an attempt to clean some of the goo off her face. She never felt so disgusting before, but even the simply motions of wiping at her face became a strain. Darkness was crowding in on her and a high whine was filling her hearing.
She gave up on trying cleaning herself and decided that simply staying awake would be her focus.
She blinked and John had already removed his own jacket and was working it onto Rodney. "God, he's cold," he said. "And has Ronon been like this the whole time you've been here?"
"Looks like a Zombie," McKay muttered.
"Teyla?" When she didn't respond to him, John stated, "You really are sick."
"See," McKay responded.
She swallowed thickly, feeling awful. "I will be well," she said again, to assure herself as much as the others. The whine in her head was growing louder.
Teyla regarded her three companions. Rodney was clutching the jacket close to him, shivering and still too pale. His gaze was again on the building and the entrance to the tank room. Ronon was sitting up, but swaying and looking as if he had no idea where he was. John winced as he changed his position. They were in poor shape.
Her eyes focused on John's leg, and she frowned. "You're bleeding," she told him.
"Yeah," John said, sounding more annoyed than anything. "We should move out of this mud. Get up the slope a bit. I should probably start heading toward the Gate."
"John…" Teyla started, but was cut off by Rodney.
"On that foot? Are you crazy?" Rodney stuttered as his teeth chattered. His lips were an unpleasant shade of blue. "Not going to … make it."
A flash of shame crossed John's face as he looked out over the distance toward the Gate.
"He is right," Teyla said, trying to sound diplomatic, but her head was spinning and she closed her eyes again as she fought down the illness that kept asserting itself. The buzzing seemed to be increasing with each moment. She felt too hot and too cold at the same time. "We should remain here and wait for Atlantis…"
"What's that?" Ronon cut in.
"What's Atlantis?" McKay said incredulously. "It's where you've been living for the past…"
"What's that sound?" Ronon completed.
Teyla looked at him soberly, wondering if he could hear the whine too. She felt as if she was in a stifling hot room, and everything was getting strange.
"I don't hear anything," Rodney grumbled, ducking his head into the jacket.
That's because your ears are full of ice," John responded.
"As if I can help that," Rodney complained. "I'm bound to get one hell of an… infection." His voice sounded drunk and he leaned against Teyla again, thought better of it when the jacket stuck to her, and changed his position so that he was propped up on John.
If John minded, he didn't show it. He cocked his head and listened.
The whine continued annoyingly.
"Thunder?" Sheppard asked. "Is that thunder?"
Ronon shrugged, shortening the movement as it must have caused him some pain.
Everything was growing dimmer around her.
"Just what we need," Rodney complained, closing his eyes, his slurred voice becoming soft. "Rain would really improve my day."
"I don't think it's thunder," John stated. "No lightning, and it's just going on for too long. Some sort of machine?"
Teyla frowned, trying to hear beyond the buzzing. She had to concentrate, to push through the sickness that was overtaking her – and then she could just make it out – a rolling roar, growing closer by the moment.
She looked to John, confused. He was sitting with Rodney against him. His head was turned toward the noise, listening, as Rodney shivered and shoved his hands deep into the jacket's pockets. Seeing the question in her eyes, John said, "I have no idea."
It was Ronon, his head bobbing, who provided the answers. "Squams," he said thickly. "They probably smell the plants. Comin' for dinner." He waited a moment and then added, "Lots of them. They're coming fast."
Everything went gray. Rodney shouted something. Teyla blinked to clear the dimness in her vision and found her head in Rodney's lap. She could make out a cloud in the distance – growing closer. Hundreds of starved squams were rushing across the plain toward the broken greenhouse, and their little group was in the way.
As she curled up against Rodney, Teyla heard John moan, "Just what we need -- a stampede."
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TBC - Yeah, their day just got worse