CHAPTER 6

Rodney McKay dropped like a rock face first into the dirt. He wrapped his hands around his head and tried not to listen to the ominous creaking of the ceiling above him. Teyla was next to him, crouching down but ready to move the instant an unknown soldier stumbled into their hiding place.

"I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die…" Rodney mumbled under his breath. He didn't realize he was speaking out loud until Teyla laid a hand on his back.

"Hush, Rodney," she whispered.

The sound of gunfire could be heard in the street outside of the small shed they'd taken shelter in sometime in the early hours of the morning. Feet pounded past the door back and forth as two opposing patrols clashed. So far, no one had glanced into the shed and realized Teyla and Rodney were in there.

More gunshots sounded, then more pounding of feet. Rodney heard yelling but it was further down the street and growing more and more faint. Silence at last descended, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Only to inhale a mouthful of dirt and dust. He covered his mouth with both hands to stay quiet. Teyla was suddenly lifting him up and helping him sit against the back wall of the shed. It was darkest there and offered their best chance of staying hidden if someone were to peak in. He leaned his head back, his chest jerking as he tried to keep the coughs in. Teyla brought her water bottle up to his lips, and after a few sips he managed to douse the fire in his throat and lungs.

"Thanks," he rasped.

She nodded her head. "I am going to check the street, make sure it is truly empty."

"Careful," Rodney whispered. He reached a hand out to her but dropped it quickly, not sure if he was trying to push her forward or pull her back. He watched as she crawled forward and peered out the doorway. The street beyond remained quiet.

"I believe the fight has moved on," she said, moving back to where Rodney still sat. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Rodney nudged her with the water bottle and she took it from him gratefully, allowing herself a few sips before putting it away.

"Do you think Ronon got caught up in the fight?"

"I do not know. We must trust him, though. He will return soon."

Rodney stared ahead, not sure how to respond. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ronon—hell, if anyone could survive in the middle of a war zone, it was Ronon—but he'd believed the same thing about Sheppard, too. He brought his knees up and tapped his feet and fingers against the ground, willing himself not to think of Sheppard. With every passing day, he'd grown a little more uncertain that his team leader had made it safely back to Atlantis.

A sudden scraping noise at the door caused both he and Teyla to freeze. They waited tensely, Teyla grabbing a metal bar on the ground in case they needed a weapon. It only took a few seconds, but it felt like hours before Ronon's dread-locked hair appeared. Rodney took a deep breath and sagged against the wall. He watched Teyla stand up to greet him.

In the dark light of the shed, it took a moment for Rodney to realize that Ronon was moving awkwardly. He crawled over to the runner as the big man lowered himself to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"What happened?" Rodney asked, his eyes wide with panic.

"I'm fine," Ronon growled. He threw a bag at Rodney. "Found a loaf of bread and some more of those fruit things. There's not much, though."

"You are injured, Ronon," Teyla said, squatting next to him. She pressed against his leg and Rodney heard him trying to stifle another grunt. "Do we have anymore bandages?" She asked the scientist.

Rodney nodded, dropping the bag of food to dig through his vest pockets. He had one clean bandage left and he tossed it to Teyla. He then grabbed Teyla's water bottle and handed the last of their water to the injured man. Ronon nodded and drank the last few sips slowly, savoring it, as Teyla dressed the gash in his leg.

"How were you injured?" She asked.

"Caught the edge of that little gun battle," he answered, pointing toward the street.

"Did they see you?" Rodney asked.

"No, don't think so. A stray bullet ricocheted off the wall near where I was hiding and grazed my leg."

"This is bleeding badly, Ronon. We should try to find more bandages."

Rodney looked at Teyla's own dirty bandage on her forehead. Teyla glanced at him and Rodney turned quickly away. When he looked at her again, she pointed to the bag of food and Rodney began handing out the meager amounts that Ronon had been able to find.

"I'll be fine. We just need to get back to the stargate."

"Right," Rodney muttered and he bit into his piece of bread. The three sat in silence as they ate. Finally, Ronon spoke.

"It's getting harder to find food. Most of it seems to have either been taken already or destroyed. There are also more soldiers out. It's going to get harder and harder to move without being seen as we get closer to the stargate."

Rodney took a deep breath when Ronon turned his attention on him. Ronon had put him in charge of their supplies, and Rodney was shocked and a little flattered at the man's confidence in him.

"We have a few packs of aspirin, but otherwise, all of our medical supplies are gone. We're out of food and water as well, so we'll have to keep watching for that. We also have at least one knife—I'm assuming the ones in your hair are still there—a blaster, and…oh, Teyla found a metal bar that I assume could be used as some sort of club, you know, if worse came to worse." Rodney gave his report matter-of-factly. It had become a ritual every time they prepared to move out into the open again. Rodney had rolled his eyes the first few times Ronon had made him do it, but he found a certain comfort in it now. In some small way, it felt like it gave him some control over the situation, which was probably Ronon's goal.

"Teyla, are you ready?" Ronon asked, eyeing the bandage on her forehead.

"I am more ready than you at the moment," she retorted, smiling slightly, and Rodney found some comfort in her response. She sounded stronger and much more like herself. Maybe they could get off this hell hole of a war-torn planet.

"Let's go," Ronon said. He climbed to his feet and limped out the door into the early morning sunlight, Teyla and Rodney close behind him.

OoooOoooOoooOoooOoooO

It was amazing how much clarity could come to one's mind after a few minutes on a balcony warmed by a late afternoon sun, the smell of the ocean riding in on a cool breeze. John heard the doors behind him open, but he kept his face turned out toward the ocean. He wasn't ready to go back inside, no matter what the nurses or Carson said. Whoever had stepped out onto the balcony gasped, and John would have smiled if he'd had the energy.

"John, what are you doing out here?"

At the sound of Elizabeth's voice, John opened his eyes and turned his head slightly toward her. He hadn't expected Elizabeth. As she moved closer to him, he turned his face back toward the ocean, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of the sun.

"Hey," he greeted quietly. He half wondered if she would scold him for getting out of the wheelchair, but she said nothing. She stood next to him and stared out at the sun reflecting off the water. John had this nagging feeling that he owed her something—an apology or an explanation—but for what, he couldn't quite explain. He knew Elizabeth just wanted him to recover and get better, but she'd been there over the last few days in his darkest moments. He'd felt crappy, angry, grief-stricken, and scared—he still did—and he'd said things that he now regretted. He hoped she understood he hadn't meant what he had said about dying or never getting back to normal, and he wanted to tell her as much.

"I just needed some fresh air," he said instead.

"What?"

"You asked what I was doing out here. I just needed to get outside for a minute."

"I'm sure standing by the balcony railing was exactly what Carson had in mind," she replied. Her tone was serious, but he could hear the smile behind the words.

He smiled back, knowing that that was exactly what Carson did not want him doing. He was still suffering from bouts of severe dizziness, and he'd had to beg the good doctor to let him come out to the balcony for a few minutes, then had to beg the nurse who'd wheeled him out to give him a few minutes alone. No one had said anything about staying in the wheelchair, probably because they didn't believe he had the strength to stand.

"Sorry," he said after a few minutes.

"Sorry? For what?"

If he could have brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck without falling, he would have, but instead he shrugged his shoulders, keeping a tight grip on the railing. Sorry for being angry, sorry for feeling like he'd been out of control over the last few days, sorry for letting people down, for letting his team down. He grimaced at the thought of his team and forced the memory of their deaths from his mind.

He'd slept most of the day, vaguely recalling nurses doing their usual checks and Carson talking to him about surgery. The memories and dreams of his team's deaths were never far from the surface, as was the guilt that he'd left them behind—no matter how unfounded everyone told him it was. He also remembered that at some point, Elizabeth had been there sitting with him. He didn't remember her saying anything, just remembered that she'd been there for him when he'd needed a friend.

Elizabeth seemed to be waiting for him to say more, but when he didn't, she dropped it. John wondered if she thought he was crazy—angry and yelling one minute, crying and despondent the next. One minute he was giving up and telling her he didn't want the surgery that could give him his life back, the next he was apologizing for who knows what. And then he was waking up screaming about his dead teammates almost every time he drifted off to sleep.

"Did Carson talk to you about the surgery?" Elizabeth finally asked.

John took a deep breath and finally looked at her. He noticed she looked as tired as Carson did, and he knew he was responsible for that. Between his injury and the loss of his team, none of them had gotten much sleep. He felt another lance of grief shoot through his chest at the thought of his team. He inhaled sharply, trying to push their memory to the back of his mind.

"Yeah, we talked," he answered.

"I know you said you didn't want the surgery. I hope you don't think Carson's going behind your back in anyway, but he has to do this—"

"Elizabeth," John interrupted. "It's okay. I understand."

He saw Elizabeth nodding her head and turned back toward the ocean. He knew part of his clarity was from the deep, dreamless sleep he'd gotten most of the day. He'd woken up in the afternoon gently, not quite rested but feeling better than he had in a while.

"I want the surgery," he said a minute later. "I would do the surgery even if Carson wasn't telling me I had to."

"Thank you, John." He felt her hand on his elbow, and he blinked rapidly at the emotion in her voice.

"Don't thank me yet," he said.

"Why?"

"I'm still going back to Earth, even with the surgery."

"What? Why?" Elizabeth gasped. John continued to stare out across the ocean. It was hard enough saying this out loud, but he couldn't bear to look at anyone at the same time.

"It's just…It's too hard right now. There isn't any part of Atlantis that doesn't remind me of Ronon or Teyla or Rodney, and I just can't deal with that right now. Maybe, in a few months…" John stumbled through his explanation, hoping Elizabeth was at least getting the gist of what he was saying. Teyla would have understood. Teyla. The image of her face framed by the broken, burning window flashed through his mind and he grit his teeth to keep from crying out.

The world tilted all of a sudden, and he closed his eyes at the sudden sensation that someone had pulled the ground out from under his feet. His grip on the railing tightened to the point that his knuckles were white. He leaned forward, groaning.

"John?" He could distantly hear Elizabeth's voice and her hands on his arm and waist. "John?"

He tried to focus on her steadying grasp. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he gasped for air. He knew the sensation would pass in a minute, but he wondered if he would be able to remain standing for that long.

He felt the hands on his arm and waist guiding him backward, and he followed Elizabeth's lead, not daring to open his eyes as his world continued to whirl around him. She helped him back into the wheelchair, and as soon as he was sitting he leaned forward with his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to get himself back under control.

"I'm going to get Carson," Elizabeth said. John realized she'd probably been talking to him the whole time. The dizziness was starting to subside a little, so he grabbed her arm as she turned to go back into the infirmary.

"No," he choked out. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Elizabeth kneeled down next to him, her hand on his back. He was sure he looked horrible—pale, sweaty, and shaking—but he knew Carson couldn't do anything for him until the surgery. He kept a grip on Elizabeth's arm, her presence grounding him as his world slowly righted itself.

"I see them, Elizabeth," he suddenly blurted out, "In my mind, I see Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney dying over and over again." The pain of their loss shot through him, and he was unable to contain his grief any longer. He felt her grip tighten on his arm, and he glanced at her face to see her own tears barely kept in check. His eyes began to sting, and he buried his head deeper into his hands.

"It wasn't your fault, John."

John nodded, not daring to look up yet. He still couldn't bring himself to believe that and doubted he ever would. After a few minutes, he leaned back in the wheelchair. His control was back in place, but it had cost him. He had a pounding headache and his body felt drained. Any energy he'd had, he used up by standing on the balcony; now it was all he could do just to remain sitting up. He rubbed his eyes and noticed his hands were shaking. His head had grown heavy as well and kept falling forward toward his chest.

He was barely aware of Elizabeth wheeling him back to his room, and of the medical personnel getting him back into his bed. Carson was there at some point as well. John heard the doctor's soft, reassuring brogue, but he couldn't quite focus on the words. And then Elizabeth was there, leaning over him. He looked up at her and saw the fear behind her caring smile. He could feel his eyes drooping closed, but he forced them open.

"I'm okay," he whispered, too tired to talk louder. "I'm going to be okay." Some of the fear left Elizabeth's face, and her smile seemed a little brighter. He smiled back, or at least tried to, but sleep quickly pulled him under for the night.

OoooOoooOoooOoooOoooO

"Wow," McKay whispered. "Are we sure this is the town square?"

Ronon just grunted in response. The sun was beginning to set, but it was still light enough to see how completely devastated the area was. It was almost unrecognizable. Ronon shook his head, disgusted at what people could do to each other. He wondered how long the Wraith would last if they could harness all that hatred and direct it just at the life-sucking monsters. Teyla squatted next to him, looking out over the piles of ruins. She was just as shocked as he was.

"We should find shelter. There were a lot of patrols out this afternoon," Ronon whispered to his two teammates. They both nodded their heads, then followed him as he began creeping through whatever pathway he could find through the wreckage. His leg throbbed, but he'd had worse injuries when he'd been a runner, and he knew he could keep going as long as he had to. The air was still and strangely silent. He continued to crawl along, straining to hear the sound of an approaching patrol, but for the first time in hours, they seemed to be alone.

Ronon approached one corner of the town square. A building ahead of them had almost completely collapsed, but one wall was still standing and supporting debris in such a way that a small enclave had been created. It would at least provide a roof over their heads, and a dark place to duck into should anyone walk past. There was even the remains of a broken-out window. He stopped behind a pile of debris in front of their new hiding place and pointed so that Teyla and McKay could see where they were heading. Teyla nodded in approval, but McKay's face suddenly blanched.

"Oh, no way. I am not going back in there," he whispered fiercely.

Back? Ronon frowned and looked back at the building. He suddenly recognized where they were. He'd led the team back to the exact same spot Sheppard had led them six days ago. This was the building they'd taken shelter in. When it had collapsed, it had almost killed him, Teyla, and McKay. No wonder McKay was freaking out.

"Unless you want to sleep under the stars, McKay, this is all we've got," he responded.

"Maybe I do want to sleep under the stars."

Ronon was about to respond back to him but Teyla interrupted. "We cannot risk being discovered by a patrol now, Rodney. We are too close to getting home." She sounded tired, and Ronon caught her rubbing the side of her head.

"That's the same building. That's the one that collapsed on us before. I am not going back in there to let it finish the job." McKay leaned stubbornly against the pile of debris with his arms folded.

"That was almost a week ago. If the building was going to fall, it would have by now."

McKay glared at Ronon, but Ronon turned away from him. He knew that wasn't the best argument in the world, and McKay looked ready to fight him on it, but they really didn't have a choice. There were no other buildings still standing that would offer that same level of protection. Their choice was stay there, or move away from the town center to a less devastated area, but they were so close to the stargate now. Ronon was not willing to consider any other options.

"Let's go," he said. He looked up and down as much of the street and town square that he could see to make sure no patrols were in sight, then limped toward the half-collapsed building. He heard scuffling behind him, and Teyla and McKay caught up with him just as he ducked into the opening of their enclave.

"This place gives me the creeps," McKay said after a few minutes. Ronon just nodded and stretched his leg out. It was aching more than he cared to admit, and he was glad for the chance to finally rest.

Teyla was standing near the broken out window, staring out into the dusk. She had a faraway look on her face, and Ronon was about to ask her what she was thinking when McKay beat him to it. The scientist stood up next to her.

"Do you see anything?" McKay asked nervously.

"No," she answered softly. "I was just…remembering."

Ronon saw McKay nod his head thoughtfully. The scientist suddenly pointed to something out the window, and Ronon climbed to his feet to see what they were looking at.

"That pile of rubble there…when the missile hit, Sheppard was thrown into that pile."

"He made it to the stargate." Ronon's voice was soft, but intense, and neither Teyla nor Rodney dared contradict him.

McKay suddenly leaned forward, inhaling sharply.

"What is it, McKay?" Ronon asked.

"I think I see…maybe…"

"What is it, Rodney?" Teyla prodded. She peered into the street, searching for whatever had caught McKay's attention.

"Just a minute," McKay answered. Without another thought, the scientist darted out of their hiding place and ran toward the pile of rubble. Teyla gasped, and Ronon began cursing. The tall warrior looked up and down the street hoping no one had noticed the man running recklessly out into the open.

They watched McKay as he reached the pile of rubble and fell to his knees. He looked like he was patting the ground, looking for something, and suddenly his face lit up. He held his hand up, but it looked to Ronon like the man was holding up a small black rock.

"It's Sheppard's radio! I found his radio!"

Ronon felt a surge of hope. If they had a radio, the chances of contacting Atlantis had just grown exponentially. Ronon smiled and was about to say something back when he noticed the unmistakable whine of a flying missile.

McKay had obviously heard it, too. He looked up into the darkening sky, his eyes darting around wildly trying to find the source of the sound. The sound was even louder now, and Ronon knew it was just a matter of seconds before the missile hit. He waved his arms and yelled at McKay to take cover. He saw the scientist diving behind the pile of rubble before a black streak hit the ground between them, and dust and debris exploded into the air.

OoooOoooOoooOoooOoooO

Rodney McKay lay in ball behind the pile of rubble where he'd found Sheppard's radio with his arms wrapped tightly around his head. The sound of the explosion had been deafening, and his ears were still ringing. He refused to move, waiting for the sharp, piercing pain that would signal his death.

When it didn't come, he opened his eyes and dared to look around. The dust was settling around him. Another explosion went off, causing him to jerk, but it was much farther away. He sat up slowly, dusting himself off and looking for any gaping, bleeding wounds. He breathed a sigh of relief and sagged back against the pile of rubble when he found none.

"McKay!"

"Rodney?"

Ronon and Teyla's voices sounded panicked. Rodney sat up, his brief moment of relief evaporating. His teammates had still been in the Building of Death when the missile had hit, and he jumped up to see if the building was still standing. When he saw the building hadn't collapsed any further, he again felt himself sagging in relief, but his blood ran cold at the large, smoking crater separating him from his teammates.

The missile had hit the street in the open space between himself and the building they had taken cover in. He must have just narrowly missed being killed by flying shrapnel. This time, he did sit down against the pile of rubble that had saved his life. He felt himself beginning to shake as his near-miss sank in.

"Rodney?" Teyla called to him again.

"It's okay. I'm okay," he answered back. His voice sounded shaky, and he swallowed in an attempt to get some moisture back in his mouth. He waved his hand at them and realized he still had Sheppard's radio in a tight grip. Darkness was falling fast now, but he could just make out Teyla's and Ronon's faces through the broken out window. He wondered if Sheppard had seen the same thing—the faces of his teammates strangely disconnected in the broken out window of the collapsed building. It was eerie, like looking at a photograph of the almost dead.

Another explosion up the street caused him to flinch. He shook his head, trying to get the ringing in his ears to quit. He couldn't quite shake himself out of his morbid thoughts as he remembered the explosion that had almost killed Sheppard and caused the building to collapse on himself, Ronon, and Teyla. The explosion had been farther away than this one but close enough that it had thrown Sheppard back into the pile of rubble that had just saved McKay's life. That must have been when Sheppard had lost his radio. Rodney had watched his friend cough and gasp after hitting the rocks, holding onto his chest in pain. They could hear the sounds of a patrol marching toward them, and the three of them had desperately tried to get Sheppard's attention without making a noise, but the Colonel had lain on the ground writhing in pain and oblivious to all around him.

Teyla had finally broken the silence and yelled at him to hide. Rodney had thought they were all dead at that point. The clacking of the patrol's slow but steady march had changed suddenly as its members had heard the yell and begun running. Sheppard had managed to crawl away and hide under some debris out of sight just as the patrol had arrived.

The patrol had lingered for awhile, searching for the source of the yelling they'd heard. They'd been about to search the building when it had begun to shake. Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon had cowered down in a corner as the building had collapsed around them. Rodney had been convinced that he would die in that moment, but the wall they had been scrunched against had remained standing, and against all odds, they'd managed to take cover in the one safe spot in the place.

The patrol had been frightened by the sudden collapse of the building and halted its search. It had lingered a little while longer then moved slowly down the street. Teyla had crawled to the doorway to peer out into the street despite Ronon's attempts to hold her back. McKay had watched her waving her arm and pointing in the direction of the stargate, and listened to the frantic, whispered conversation between her and Sheppard.

"We've got to leave now, Tey—" Sheppard's sudden hacking cut off whatever else he had been about to say.

"Colonel?"

"'m 'kkay." His voice had been raspy and the words forced, and McKay had thought that he didn't sound okay.

"Come—wait! Patrol's coming. Stay there. Get back!"

"John, you must take cover."

"Too late." McKay had barely heard his response. Sheppard had said something else after that, but he couldn't make it out. The street had suddenly been filled with the sounds of boots hitting concrete as two opposing patrols spotted each other from each end of the street. Gunshots had rung out as they'd opened fire on and echoed between the abandoned buildings.

Teyla had jerked back and quickly crawled over to him and Ronon. Rodney had been about to ask what was going on when she had brought a finger to her lips. The gun fire eventually died down, and one of the patrols, presumably the winners of that most recent skirmish had moved back toward them. Rodney had heard the sound of their quiet voices and realized they'd stopped just outside their building. He'd been convinced, again, that a member of the patrol was going to discover them any second, and he had braced himself for another horrible death, but no one had come near the building.

The patrol had camped out between them and Sheppard the whole night. Rodney had remained almost motionless the entire night, grimacing as the muscles in his back and legs had tightened and cramped but not daring to make a sound. Explosions near and far had sounded throughout the night. The patrol, unfazed by the danger of their situation, had finally moved away around dawn, and even Ronon had breathed a sigh of relief. They'd carefully crawled out of the building after the last sounds of the patrol had died away. Rodney had looked around for Sheppard, but Teyla finally explained what Sheppard had frantically whispered to her right before the gun fight had broken out. He was going to try to make it back to the stargate to contact Atlantis for help.

"He left us?" Rodney had asked, shocked.

"He went for help. He did not want to leave, but he couldn't get back to us without one of the patrols noticing," Teyla had answered. "I believe I saw the stargate activate. He will return soon."

The sound of footfalls on the cobblestone road jarred Rodney out of his memories. It was dark now, but between the sounds of explosions going off, he could hear people approaching—a military patrol.

Rodney crawled backward, moving as quietly as he could away from the patrol and the building where Ronon and Teyla were hiding. Rodney had been angry at Sheppard for leaving them, but now he was doing the same thing. He realized as he ducked behind piles of rubble around blast craters that going back to the stargate was their best chance. It would only be a matter of time before they were finally caught by either an explosion or a patrol.

A rocket plowed into a pile of rubble less than twenty feet from him. Rodney dropped to the ground, but not fast enough. He cried out as a jagged piece of rock tore into his arm. He lay on the ground panting and trying not to make any sounds. He could still hear the military patrol, but it seemed to be moving away from him.

It was night now, but the moon was full and the skies clear. He looked down at his arm after a few minutes and could see the blood soaking up the sleeve of his jacket and running down his arm to his fingertips. He swallowed, feeling nauseous at the sight of all that blood. Another explosion went off behind him, not close enough to hurt him, but close enough that he felt the rush of hot air. He crawled forward, biting his lip to keep from crying out and holding his arm close to his chest.

As he crawled forward, he looked behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of Teyla and Ronon, but they were long out of sight. He crawled around another pile of rubble and breathed a sigh of relief. He could see the stargate in the bright moonlight only fifty or so feet ahead. He moved quickly toward it, and grew increasingly dismayed at the amount of debris and rubble around the stargate. It was amazing, actually, that the gate was still standing. It seemed to have taken the brunt of the bombings.

When Rodney reached the DHD, his heart dropped into his stomach. The whole face of the dialing device had been completely destroyed. There was no way he'd be able to repair it enough to dial out—not with bombs dropping all around him and psychotic military patrols shooting at anything that moved. He slumped down in front of the DHD in despair.

He stared out at the war-torn horizon, remembering how clean and pristine the little town had looked when he'd first arrived. He shook his head at the destruction now. Even with the threat of the Wraith hanging over their heads, these people had still found enough hatred to turn on themselves.

An explosion had him rolling to the ground with his arms around his head in protection. He heard the resounding crash as one of the few remaining statues in the square tumbled to the ground. A few rocks hit the ground near him and he flinched. His arm was throbbing. The gash had finally stopped bleeding, but the dry blood was now sticking to his shirt, and every time he moved, it pulled on the skin and set the nerves on fire.

He sat up slowly and opened his eyes, looking at the debris around him. His heart suddenly stuttered as he saw a grenade laying less than three meters from his feet. With a strangled yelp, he scrambled around the DHD and dove for cover, landing painfully on his arm. His eyes watered at the impact, but he managed to not cry out. He lay there, tense, waiting for the inevitable concussive blast of the grenade.

But the blast never came.

Rodney waited a couple of minutes before slowly sitting up and crawling back toward the DHD and the grenade. He whimpered when he moved and he was feeling nauseous again. He felt something warm dripping down his arm and realized he was bleeding again.

"I'm so dead," he muttered.

He peered carefully around the DHD to look at the grenade. It still sat there, motionless. Now that he had a chance to look at it, he realized it was covered in dust. It had probably been sitting there for days. He moved a little closer and saw the pin was still in place.

It was Sheppard's. He recognized it now as standard military issue. Sheppard must have dropped it when he reached the gate. Rodney breathed out a sigh of relief. Sheppard had made it to the stargate—this was absolute proof. He carefully picked up the grenade, then turned to look back toward the stargate. He realized now that the amount of debris, including several large stone columns resting over the gate, would prevent a jumper from coming through. In the bright moonlight, he studied the angle of the largest columns, calculating the weight distribution and where the load-bearing points would be. He looked down at the grenade held tightly in his shaking hand. If he could clear out the beams with one well-placed explosion, the kawoosh of the stargate would clear out anything that fell in front of it, and the path above it would open up for a jumper to come through. Assuming, of course, that his explosion didn't destroy the stargate completely in the process.

Rodney McKay crawled forward, forgetting the unrelenting pain in his arm for a moment as a plan began to form in his mind.

TBC