Colonel Stephen Caldwell tapped his fingers irritably on the armrest of his command chair.

They were only a couple of days from Atlantis when the call came to turn back. His crew was tired, and their medical supplies were severely depleted. Added to that, the two day trip back to Atlantis and back to their current position would cut into his crews Christmas holiday by four days. He'd have to push the engines to get them home before Christmas Eve. But orders were orders, and apparently McKay's sister was kicking up a fuss of national security crisis level about McKay taking a vacation on Earth. He couldn't say he blamed her given all she'd apparently learned. Also, McKay had looked like he needed a vacation the last time Caldwell had seen him.

Christmas wasn't something that Colonel Caldwell would have particularly cared about a year ago. Missing holidays was part of being in the service. It was about commitment. But lately he was trying to care more about things that he didn't normally care about. In the months following his release from Goa'uld possession he'd tried to make amends to all the people he'd wronged. Once he accepted that he wasn't responsible he'd done his best to behave in a manner that differentiated him from the Caldwell that had been a Goa'uld host. That nobody had seen the difference in him at the time, no matter how manipulative, unscrupulous, or unfeeling his other self was, had stung. And so, this was a new, softer, nicer Caldwell.

It seemed he spent most of his time working to prove that he wasn't the villain everyone had thought he was. His shrink said it was a normal reaction. He wasn't sure how 'normal' figured into having his body taken over by an alien worm for several months and having nobody notice.

While he tried to show more concern for the personal lives of his crew he was also careful not to show too much undue concern for McKay. In his opinion the scientist was overworked and underappreciated. But he couldn't say that. The Goa'uld had been obsessed with him, and McKay was nervous enough around him without Caldwell doing anything to remind him of his alien stalker. It was why he hadn't said right there in the hallway that he thought McKay should be sent back to Earth for a break. It was why he hadn't given Sheppard a piece of his mind as soon as they were beamed aboard. It was why nobody knew that he was the one who stole the lemon from Mitchell's quarters and tossed it out an airlock. Nor would he ask how many times a man had to run himself ragged to save the day in the eleventh hour before he earned some respect.

"The-hic, duty roster-hic, sir," Novak held a data pad up to him and hiccupped.

Why was she hiccupping? She hiccups when she's nervous. Then he realized he'd been scowling.

Caldwell forced himself to still his tapping fingers and smile at her, "Thank you, Lieutenant."

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Things couldn't get much weirder than being told that aliens were real. More specifically that ancient aliens had left behind Stargates which humanity was now using to explore distant words. Reality just doesn't get weirder than that. That's what Doctor Jennifer Keller had thought when she'd been recruited into the Stargate program. She'd laughed when they told her. Then she realized they were serious. Then they'd showed her the video from her old University friend and rival, Doctor Carson Beckett. He wanted her to join him on the front lines of a fight against alien vampires in a faraway Galaxy in no less than the Lost City of Atlantis. 'Now I know I'm being punked', had been her reply as she laughed. It had taken several hours of examining samples of alien lifeforms and a trip through the Stargate and an introduction to Hermiod to finally convince her. She blushed at her memory. Feinting when he spoke really wasn't the best first impression she could have hoped for. 'Please don't dissect me,' isn't exactly a traditional earth greeting either. It was a good thing that first contact hadn't been up to her. Also, 'wait a minute, they're our allies? Haven't they been abducting people?!' Fortunately she'd had a chance at a second impression on the trip over. She convinced him to play a game of chess with her and he actually turned out to be kind of nice.

She shifted on her plush comforter and crossed her legs. The room she'd been assigned had a spectacular ocean view. She suspected most, if not all, the dorm rooms did. The view wasn't what held her attention at the moment. It was the files she scrolled through on her laptop.

"Aliens are real and I'm in the Lost City of Atlantis," Jennifer said out loud to her laptop, "I played chess with an alien. Given that, this is not that weird."

Except that it was. Maybe it was because it hit closer to home. This was human experimentation at its worst. This had happened on Earth. Of course, she knew that much of modern medicine had been gained that way one way or another. Every generation said never again. But it seemed like a pattern that earth was doomed to repeat. All it ever took was one truly evil man and a handful of power hungry opportunists to follow. In this case the evil man had been one Doctor William Black. She suppressed a chill. No wonder Doctor McKay had so many nightmares. She hoped this guy was brought to justice now that he'd been found.

It seemed that the field that stood to be advanced by evil this time was Neuroscience. As Doctor Keller read the file she was beginning to suspect it was the main reason Carson had thought of her for this job. One of her specialties was neurology, and this patient was certainly a neurological puzzle. Before sending her off to read the patient files Carson had confided that he'd hoped to wait until she had a chance to get to know him, and for him to become more comfortable with her, before giving her all this. Carson had warned her that he'd likely be rude and dismissive otherwise. Apparently he could be quite difficult when he wanted to be. But with most of this information being uncovered by the SGC on Earth anyway, and the complications suffered from the alien amphetamines, he felt his hand had been forced.

Boy had his hand been forced. As the night progressed and the nightmare continued objects had begun to shake on their own, the room heated up, and at one point lightning even arced around the room. Each time the fluids in the patients brain swelled a little more until they were sure he was going to have a seizure. Carson had wanted to drill a hole in his head to relieve the building pressure. Once she'd been given more information it had been her idea to use ice water to bring down the swelling and interrupt the episodes. If the episodes were caused by his mind drawing inward then a sudden change in temperature would draw his awareness to his body again. Score one for the neurologist.

Once the patient was through the dream-phase of withdrawal he'd slipped into stage four for the rest of the day, dreamless and still as the dead while his body recovered. By nightfall the EEG showed him moving through the cycles normally.

She'd run tests on that amphetamine sample herself and there was no freakin' way that telekinesis was a side effect. She'd said as much. At that point, Doctor Beckett kind of had to give her an explanation. Having had a more thorough look at his files she now kind of regretted it. It would definitely have been easier to get to know him before having access to all of his innermost secrets.

She was trying very hard to think of the patient as a person, and not just a curiosity. It had been difficult after marveling at his energy field. Golly, that energy scanner Doctor Zelenka had cobbled together had been sumthin'. It was a neurologists wet dream. She was itching to play with it some more. To actually see all the neural connections at work alone had been worth the trip to another Galaxy. Her fingers literally twitched to have another look at Doctor McKay's brain. He must have extra parvalbumin interneurons, for one. She swore she'd seen indications of brainwaves extending into his outer field.

What had caused it? Was he born with it? Had exposure to something he'd been working on caused it? Or was it all related to that awful Phoenix Project? There were so many tests she wanted to run. Her overactive brain automatically started running through all the possible tests and how the results could advance her field, before she caught herself. She'd had to remind herself that he was her patient, not her test subject.

It made her feel a little guilty. Learning so much about him this way when she'd only ever seen him sleeping just seemed wrong. She wondered what he was like when he was awake, this Doctor Rodney McKay; Head Scientist of Atlantis and member of the primary reconnaissance team. The files gave her a few hints. She winced at the litany of injuries sustained in the secondary role and marvelled that he still agreed to leave the city. Jennifer had intended to stay in the city if she could help it. That intention was now reinforced. He must be way braver than her.

Another thing she could learn from the file was that he was good at keeping secrets. He had so many. Even from the people he was closest too. At least she thought he was close to his team. They seemed worried enough about him. They had no idea that he'd been on a steady dose of a specially designed enzyme inhibitor since being abducted by Ba'al. The reaction to the megalomaniacal aliens improved ATA therapy had been delayed. In the end, Doctor McKay's enzyme production had topped out at an alarming five percent, with some interesting effects. The smallest incremental increase in the level of any catalyst significantly lowers the activation point for a reaction. Five percent was huge.

As secrets go, it was a pretty big one. Then again, looking at all the other things he'd tried to keep secret maybe not so much. She didn't know how he'd done it. Jennifer was terrible at keeping secrets. The only reason she was confident in signing the non-disclosure was because she didn't really close to anyone on Earth to tell anyway.

In another universe, one that didn't have the Trust or that weird mad-scientist, Jennifer thought they might have had a lot in common. Growing up, she'd never really related to people her own age because she was so much smarter than them. She'd graduated high school at fifteen and graduated with her bachelors at seventeen. In that other universe maybe they even would have met. Such a universe probably existed if the theoretical physicists were right. The thought helped to ground her and remind her that this was just a normal guy. Well, as normal as she was at least.

She hoped she got to meet him soon. It was her last thought before setting the laptop aside and tucking herself in for the night.

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Rumble

Rumble

The sound of his own stomach was what eventually woke him.

Rodney cracked his eyes open and quickly closed them against the amount of light. That could only be Carson. He reached up and batted away the pen light. Seriously, what did he expect to see with a pen light that he couldn't see better with an Ancient scanner? He should steal it and hide it.

"Well tha's a good sign," Carson's voice followed.

A hand caught his wrist mid-air and gently squeezed his pulse point.

"Can I please finish waking up before you man-handle me?" Rodney mumbled and opened his eyes again. His plea went unheeded as he felt a pressure cuff tighten around his upper arm. When did that get there?

"Carsaaaa," a tongue depressor appeared in his mouth, followed in quick succession by the pen light again. He was definitely going to steal that and hide it. And now his mouth tasted like wood. "Are you looking for any particular ailment or is this just fun for you?"

"Stop complaining and eat," Carson had barely picked up the plate of fresh fruit, no citrus, before Rodney sat up like a bullet and snatched the plate from him.

"Manners," Carson scolded but seemed pleased, "and pace yourself. You have a full English breakfast arriving soon."

"I'm starving," Rodney spoke around a mouthful of grapes. Then he looked around. This wasn't the infirmary. A dozen questions formed in his mind too quickly for him to pick one to ask. What happened? Why was he here? Hypoglycaemic attack? Allergy? Alien device? Why was he so tired again? His head hurt and his body felt sluggish.

"I'm not surprised," Carson drew him from his spinning worries, "You've been sleeping for a little over three days. You had a wee bit of withdrawal to the alien amphetamines, but that's past. I expect you'll tire easily for a couple of weeks though, and yer likely to have a lingering headache for some time."

"Amphetamines?" Rodney repeated as his half asleep mind still struggled to catch up with his surroundings. Then it clicked. His eyes widened and realization chased away the clawing sleepiness, "Oh no."

"Hi Rodney," Sheppard waved at him from a chair beside the bed.

"Sheppard," a sick knot formed in Rodney's stomach as the memories of the past week, and his failure, rose to the surface along with a few fuzzy memories of Carson trying to get him to go to dinner with him. Caldwell had been trying to give him that damned will. Zelenka wanted… something. Ambassador Malin, Elizabeth, all those refugees… Sheppard had been trying to ask him about what went wrong. Rodney remembered yelling at him to wait until later. Well it was later and it looked like he'd waited right there in that chair. He put the bunch of grapes down, suddenly not hungry anymore. "I tried. I don't know what went wrong. I might have miscalculated. I just don't know."

"I'll go see what's keepin' your breakfast," Beckett gave Sheppard an encouraging pat on the shoulder and a look that said, 'talk to him,' before stepping out to give them some privacy.

"I'm so sorry," McKay whispered.

"Hey, stop that," the Colonel ordered, a little too gently, "You did your best. I wasn't expecting more than that."

Rodney rounded a sarcastic look on Sheppard, "I blew up the one thing that was protecting that planet and all the people on it from total annihilation. I wouldn't call that a personal best."

He wasn't getting through. John pursed his lips and wished he'd brought Teyla in for this. She was so much better at getting across to people. There was a reason she was the team diplomat. Rodney did everything humanly possible to keep that thing going. They were unprepared and under equipped. It was just a crap situation. "You said it yourself. You tried."

John watched, mystified and lost, as the team scientist's shoulders remained slumped and his eyes fell to the sheets. He'd saved hundreds of people that would have been goners, and he saved the team. He did good. But all he seemed to be focussing on was what he hadn't done.

He could handle McKay when he was cocky. He could handle him when he didn't know when to give up. He could handle him when he didn't know when to keep trying, which was what he'd tried to do on the planet. This self-deprecating version of McKay was not something he knew how to handle.

"Listen, McKay," Sheppard continued, awkwardly, and sighed, still searching for words, "All we can do out there is what we can do. We'll win some, and we'll lose some. The important thing is to just keep trying."

If anything, the scientist deflated further, "I tried. I might have made a mistake. I wasn't thinking clearly. If I could have just thought of another way…"

"Rodney," Sheppard interrupted more forcefully than he intended, and considered pausing the conversation right there to go get Teyla. This couldn't be going worse. Then suddenly it was.

"Hi Rodney!" a cheerful voice interrupted from the doorway. Katie Brown stepped in holding a vase of flowers. She paused uncertainly just inside the door at the exasperated look Sheppard threw her, "Am I interrupting? I can come back later."

Sheppard had been about to say yes, but Rodney quickly rode over him, "No! Not at all, come on in."

John cursed inwardly as she smiled and walked nervously over to the bed with wide blue eyes only for Rodney, "Are you feeling better?"

"Y-Yeah," Rodney stammered nervously.

God this was painful to watch. They'd been going out how long and still couldn't hold a conversation? Worst couple ever.

"Yes. I mean...," Rodney amended quickly, "I am now that you're here."

Katie smiled and giggled, "Aw, Rodney! That's so sweet."

"I'll stop by later," Sheppard gave Rodney a look that said they would definitely continue this conversation, then walked away from the bed before they said something that made him dry heave. "You kids have fun!"

The last thing he heard Katie gush as he reached the door was, "I can't believe you were stuck in a meteor storm for a whole week! What was it like?"

Worst question ever! John stiffened, paused, and forced himself to keep walking out the door. He could already picture her leaning forward with wide expectant eyes, her heart fluttering, and Rodney trying to spin the worst experience ever into a fantasy hero's tale for her.

It was obvious to John Sheppard. Katie was a naïve hero worshipper who was just infatuated with Rodney's image as Action Scientist Man. She was the type of girl who would wait and wait for Rodney to make the first move and sweep her off her feet because that's what hero's do. Rodney really wasn't a first move kind of guy, although he tried desperately to maintain that hero image for her.

Sheppard had seen it many times in the type of women who often courted military men. It was the kind of relationship you could never be honest in, because the truth wasn't something they wanted to hear. Those were the relationships that always ended badly; early if you were smart, in a messy divorce if you weren't. His had ended in the latter. It had come as something of a surprise when Rodney had attracted one of them. John really hadn't expected it to last this long.

It wouldn't last, but it definitely wasn't Sheppard's place to interfere. Especially since he suspected this was, despite stories to the contrary, Rodney's first actual girlfriend. Which of course meant; he was already head over heels for her. John had a case of Canadian beer set aside especially for when that all came crashing down.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Rodney?" Carson drew him from his thoughts, "Ye can't have finished talking to him already. I know how bad you are at it. You guilted him. Now go unguilt him."

"I left him with Katie for a while," Sheppard confessed. "I'll try again later."

Beckett grimaced in understanding, "They're still seeing each other?!"

"Still," John shared the grimace.

"Aye, then," Carson sighed and checked his watch, "I'll give them half an hour to dance awkwardly around each other."

"That long?" Sheppard quipped and turned down the hall towards the training room. He'd promised Ronon an update and he needed to talk to Teyla.

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Punch Punch

Seven days.

Punch Punch

The first days were spent digging people out from under crumbled buildings and fallen bridges. He tried not to think about the fact that most of the people he'd dug out of the rubble in those first days were dead now, obliterated on a planet pummeled by space rocks.

Punch Punch

The next were spent carrying equipment and helping to build wind farms. So much had been built in such a short time. He would have thought it impossible but every able bodied man and woman had pitched in. So many had worked so hard for so few to survive.

Punch Punch

Ronon's body still ached from the hard labour. Still he continued to punch forcefully at the hanging bag and it swung rhythmically back and forth. One fist, followed in rapid succession by the next.

Punch Punch

The final few days on the planet had been spent just helplessly waiting and watching McKay try to work another one of his miracles. He'd been completely useless while McKay had been dead on his feet, running on drugs and fear while his team just pushed him to keep going. Ronon hated feeling helpless more than anything.

Punch Punch

Helpless is how he'd felt when the wraith took him.

Punch Punch

Helpless was how he felt when he learned they'd destroyed his planet.

Punch Punch

It was the one thing he tried to never feel. So he punched the bag. It was this or run, and if he started running he wasn't sure if he could stop.

He hadn't thought he could feel any worse about this mission. Then he'd seen McKay in withdrawal from the drugs they'd forced into him, to keep him working, broken and sweating and writhing.

PUNCH,

Sand flew in all directions. Then the bag hung limp and empty.

Ronon panted.

Teyla sighed and brushed sand off her shoulder. She'd been meditating on a mat nearby, hoping that Ronon would calm enough to join her before injuring himself.

"You know," Sheppard drawled from the bench, "We have to import those from another Galaxy."

"Sorry," Ronon rumbled. He wasn't. He wanted to burst a dozen more.

"It was a rough mission," Sheppard shifted from his lounging position and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked about as uncomfortable as he did around the iratus bugs. It was a signal that this was going to be one of his attempts at having a heart to heart.

Sheppard was a great tactician and a decent fighter, but his people skills sucked. His strength as a leader came from his contagious optimism and tenacity. He never gave up, no matter what. It was a rare trait in this Wraith besieged galaxy. But pushed too far those same strengths could be a destructive force. That was something Sheppard hadn't learned yet.

"It was roughest on McKay," Ronon spared a disapproving look for the commanding officer.

Sheppard looked down, "Yeah." He knew that Ronon and Teyla both thought he often put too much pressure on McKay. Even if they couldn't deny that the method worked. "He'll be fine though. Beckett says he just needs a couple of weeks of rest. He's awake."

The hulking Satedan sighed at the downcast look, stalked over to the bench, and grabbed a towel. Clearly Sheppard was the one who needed to talk. "You talk to him?"

"I tried," Sheppard cocked his head up at the towering Satedan, "I'll try again later."

Ronon swung the towel around his sweat drenched neck and sat next to Sheppard, "He isn't used to failing."

Sheppard sat up straighter at that and turned and offended look on Ronon, "He didn't fail!"

"He didn't succeed either," Ronon answered simply and truthfully.

Sheppard stood and rounded on the hulking man, "He stalled until the Daedalus could reach us. He made sure we could save as many people as possible. We survived because of him. That's not failing."

"He won't see it that way," Ronon leaned back, folded his arms, and waited.

"Why not?!" John backed off and ran a hand through his already messy hair.

Teyla stood and rested a calming hand on John's arm, "Because the goal set to him was to save everyone, and it is as Ronon says. He is accustomed to succeeding."

"We had to try!" John defended.

The Athosian diplomat smiled kindly, "It was a noble goal, even were it not possible. However, placing soul responsibility on Rodney to save the planet was perhaps unfair."

"He's the only one who can do what he does," the military strategist countered. "You know I would have done more if I could!"

Ronon sighed and looked skyward as though summoning the patience of the Ancestors, "You did what you always do. You told him he had to save everyone. You told him failure wasn't an option. He listened to you."

"Failure wasn't an option!" The ex-marine and air force Colonel repeated the mantra that was drilled into him as a marine every time he'd been sent on a mission, then seemed to repeat the words over in his own head and realization dawned, "Oh, damn."

The two Pegasus-born team members folded their arms and regarded their leader.

Sheppard kicked the floor and slumped back down onto the bench, "I'll talk to him."

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Rodney's mind was spinning.

Having an eidetic memory could be inconvenient sometimes. For example, he could remember the faces of every person on the planet that he had seen. He had a perfect replay of every building he'd seen crushed. His mathematical mind could measure the angles of the debris, the force of the impact, calculate the size of the rock… and see the shocked fearful look on the faces of every corpse. For that reason he usually tried not to look when a mission turned violent. As inconvenient as his eidetic memory could be, it was unsettling the hell out of him that it was failing him for the short walk from the infirmary to the commissary on the night he'd collapsed. Those memories were still fuzzy and patchy. Maybe that too was an after effect of the drug. But if that were the case why could he remember everything on the planet so clearly? Radek had reassured him that he only wanted to ask about a problem on a project, and that the problem had been solved. He'd even given Rodney the report. But it didn't ring any bells.

Carson had told him to stop trying so hard and just let it come back on its own. That was easier said than done. While stuck in the infirmary he'd had little else to think about. He could only go over the various science team reports so many times, and he had a feeling Radek was holding some of them back. In fact, it felt like Radek had been avoiding him ever since Rodney had asked what he'd said that night. That in itself was suspicious. If he still had the laptop he could have hacked into Radek's tablet and checked for himself. Carson had confiscated it on the first day when he caught Rodney reworking his calculations for the ZedPM overload.

He was also supposed to not think about the last mission. How the hell he was supposed to not think about it while he was stuck in here was beyond him. He needed something else to occupy his mind. He needed another problem to fix or puzzle to solve.

"Are ye listening to me, Rodney?" Carson stood alongside the bed with his arms folded.

Rodney sighed and looked up from the comic he hadn't really been reading, "What?! Can't you see I'm reading?"

"Y'haven't turned the page in an hour," Carson frowned.

"What are you, my stalker? What do you want?" the increasingly grumpy patient tossed the comic onto the pile of other comics he hadn't really read. He'd found if he at least looked entertained Beckett and his troglodyte minions would leave him alone for the most part. He hated being 'under observation.'

"Well! Aren't you in a right lovely mood?" Carson snapped back with as much bite as his lilting Scottish accent would allow, which wasn't much.

"I'm bored out of my mind," Rodney sulked. "When are you going to release me from this chamber of torture? You could at least give me back my laptop so I can get some work done!"

"Oi, torture chamber is it? I'll remember that the next time you come in here with a splinter," Carson snarked back, then nodded to the pile of comics. "I thought you liked comic books and super heroes and all that."

"Real super-heroes. Not these whiny, ego-crazed wannabe's," Rodney blurted in a rare moment of honesty. But the comics had really only added to the irritability he'd been holding in. Well, mostly holding in.

"Ego-crazed?" Carson repeated.

"Well, granted, their powers are effective but the idea that having these random genetic characteristics makes them not human anymore is just ridiculous. You and Shepherd were born with the ATA gene. Does that make you not human? The albino gene is hereditary as well, are we going to call them a 'new evolution of the species?'" He ended his rant with a subconscious rub of the modified tracking implant in his arm.

The motion didn't go unnoticed by Carson. As well as the standard tracker the implant now contained the slow release mechanism for his enzyme inhibitor. "This really bothers you. Doesn't it?"

"No. Don't be ridiculous." Rodney snipped, "It's just a story with no bearing on reality."

"That's right," Carson agreed. He looked down at the needle he'd been holding. He'd actually been trying to get Rodney's attention so he could reload the implant. But as ever, his friend had a talent for side-tracking him even when unintentionally.

"Some of them are just super intelligent or good at languages or mechanics," the rant continued, "Seriously. How does that make them not human?"

"You seem to have thought about this an awful lot," Carson observed with concern. How long had he been feeling this way? Was it since his return from Ba'al?

"Now Batman, that's a super hero. Or Iron Man," Rodney continued full flow. "They're totally armed with technology invented by themselves and you don't catch them claiming they're some new evolution of humanity."

"Rodney?" Carson interjected and waited to see that he had Rodney's intention.

"Mm?"

"You're not a mutant."

"I know that!" he blustered, but folded his arms defensively.

"Aye," Carson smiled gently, "but nothing wrong with a second opinion. Are you still reading those reports from earth?"

"Yeah, Anders is still spewing his usual cheesy villain rhetoric," Rodney twisted his face and voice into that of an exaggerated mock villain, "He's a danger. He's not normal. He must be controlled."

"Rodney," Beckett regarded his friend with concern, "As a friend, I think you should stop reading those reports. They're nay doing you any good."

"Yeah..." The tightly folded arms relaxed and Rodney smiled a little. "You're probably right."

Then he finally noticed the needle Carson had been holding and winced at the inevitable pain to come, "Ugh, get it over with."

He rolled up his sleeve and closed his eyes.

When nothing happened, Rodney opened one eye and looked at Carson. He was standing there, still holding the needle, and looking conflicted.

"Actually," Carson ventured cautiously, "while I've got you in an agreeable mood, I was hopin' you might agree to me showing the procedure to Doctor Keller."

"The new one?"

"Aye," Carson carried on quickly, before the inevitable tirade could begin, "She's the best in her specialized fields, and a very capable general physician as well. She is more than trustworthy. She is very passionate about care of the patient. If, god forbid, anything should happen to me I've already told Dr Weir I'd like her to replace me."

"That's not going to happen!" Rodney declared in a very Sheppardesque way. As though an order would be all it took to place a shield of protection around his friend.

"Rodney. We've talked about this." Beckett carried on undissuaded, "It's not ethical for me to be the only one who knows about your condition. What if I'm back on earth visiting me Mum when there's a complication or your arm gets chewed off by a wraith."

The imagery inspired a grimace and Rodney pulled his arm protectively to his body, "Point taken... fine then."

"Really?" Carson blinked in disbelief. That was way too easy.

Within minutes the new doctor was smiling sweetly at her new patient, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Doctor McKay."

"Uh, h-hi," Rodney stammered and looked at her in surprise. "Doctor Keller, was it?" He had meant to say something sarcastic or at least forget her name a few times. He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to look like. Not this. Carson probably could have skipped his whole argument if he'd just shown him her picture. He blushed and looked away guiltily and felt once again that he did not deserve a girl as nice as Katie.

"All done," she beamed when he looked back in surprise.

"What?" the opportunist had given him the shot the moment his head was turned, "I didn't feel a thing!"

"Well, it was just a little needle," she dropped it into the sharps bin and took her gloves off. "There's no reason for it to hurt."

And yet Carson always managed to make it feel like a Pegasus sized bee had jabbed him. He said as much. "You're way better at that than Beckett."

Beckett rolled his eyes, "Big baby." Nonetheless, he looked entirely too pleased with himself. "You handled that very well. I think we can let you out on good behaviour. So long as you promise to take it easy, rest when you're tired, and don't do anything stressful. That means no lab work!"

"What?!" Rodney balked, "What am I supposed to do?!"

"Would you rather stay here?" Carson warned.

"Okay, fine. No lab work. Scouts honour," he held his right hand over his heart.

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He looked fine.

Elizabeth watched her Head Scientist stride into the gate room below. He was nose deep in a laptop, as always, yet somehow managing not to walk into anything. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Since Beckett had released him this morning, all had been quiet. Then she saw it. He was being followed by a… was that a flying saucer? She watched him wave Chuck over and begin explaining something animatedly. Soon Chuck was grinning at the disk floating beside McKay's head. All eyes in the gate room were now on McKay and his flying saucer and his demeanor took on a smug aloofness at the increased attention. For someone so uncomfortable with being watched he certainly tended to draw a crowd. She caught a few words here and there; something about frequencies and vibrations. She smiled. She'd been a little worried when she hadn't seen any sign of him after Beckett released him this morning. He'd been told to rest, but nobody really expected him to do it. It was good to see him back to normal.

It was hard to believe that this man was the boy who had swept her off her feet at a Nobel Prize ball and rescued her from assassins all those years ago. He was so different in every way from the Knight in Shining armour she'd built up in her mind. Even when she'd learned that he once worked for the CIA she hadn't made the connection. She could almost see it now in his physical features; in the shape of his nose, the cut of his chin, and most of all in his eyes. But the boy was reckless. The man was reluctant, preferring caution. The boy was fearless. The man was afraid of virtually everything. The boy was like a little John Sheppard. The man was… well he was Rodney. Granted, her memory was probably embellished.

Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to tell him that she knew. But that would mean telling him how she knew, or else outright lying about how she knew. Neither of those were an option right now. He looked fine, but she had to wait for Carson and Kate's go ahead to brief him on the latest situation on Earth.

"Elizabeth," he called up to her, and bounded up the stairs. "Take a look at this."

"I see it," she watched the saucer follow him up. "What is it?"

"It's a reconnaissance drone," his eyes glinted. "Touch it. Go on, you know you want to."

She smirked and reached out to it but it moved away.

"It uses high frequency vibrations to fly, like a bumble bee. Those same vibrations act like sonar to prevent it from flying into objects or from being impacted by objects coming towards it," he explained. "We were just going to give it a little test flight to the Alpha site?"

"Alright," She couldn't really deny him now that everyone in the Gate Room was waiting to see his new toy in action. A nod in Chuck's direction set the gate dialling. "I thought Doctor Beckett told you to stay out of the labs?"

"I built it on the pier," Rodney grinned a little prouder at his work-around.

"I'm not sure that's in the spirit of his orders," she scolded lightly.

"He should word his orders better," he lifted his eyebrows smugly and turned back to the gate to see the Chevrons begin to light up. His smile fell to a look of horror and yelled, "STOP THE GATE!"

Elizabeth looked down at the gate and immediately saw the source of the panic. A small head of blond of curls was barely visible just behind the gate ring. "Stop the gate!" Elizabeth echoed.

Hearing the excitement, the child poked her head around the inner edge of the ring.

Rodney was already halfway down the stairs, "Cut the power!" He swung over the railing and landed at a run. He was past the guards and charging for the gate before they could realize what was happening.

Elizabeth had never seen him move so fast. How did he move so fast? John had said he was developing a frustrating tendency to run ahead of the team but she hadn't seen how he could get so far ahead until now.

"Stop him!" Lorne called down from where he was suddenly beside her, having heard the shouts of alarm.

"It's incoming!" Chuck shouted back as he frantically pressed buttons.

"Oh no," she gasped and ran down the stairs with Lorne close behind.

Rodney dove through the gate, grabbed the child, and they both fell out of sight just as the deadly wormhole burst and bubbled outward.

The pool coalesced and shimmered peacefully, casting a watery light through the room. A grim silence fell over the room.

Then a high pitched wail erupted from behind it, followed by the wracking sobs of a child.

"Ow! I save your life and you repay me by deafening me?!" A familiar voice griped shakily.

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief and sagged over the gate controls.

Elizabeth rounded to the back of the gate just as the wormhole vanished. He lay on his side with his body wrapped tightly around the wailing child, her limbs bundled safely against him. A strip of the jacket sleeve on his left arm was missing. "Rodney! Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes and sat up sharply. His first thought was to run an inventory check on the girl, "Arms, check. Fingers, check. Legs, feet, weird stuffed alien rabbit thing... Oh stop crying, you're fine. I'm the one who should be crying. I took the brunt of the fall!"

It was then that Elizabeth saw it. The boy crouched behind the punch table with her, having charged head strong into danger with no concern for his own well-being. How had she missed it?

He was oblivious to Major Lorne kneeling beside him and running his own inventory check. "He's alright, Ma'am," Lorne reported.

Rodney became Rodney again as the terror quickly gave way to anger, "WHO THE HELL LEAVES A TODDLER UNATTENDED IN AN ALIEN CITY?! OR ANYWHERE FOR THAT MATTER?"

The little girl didn't seem to mind being yelled at. The crying faded away and she looked with wide eyes at the floating disk that had reappeared by Rodney's head. Small hands reached out to grab it and she giggled as it moved further away with each attempt.

"Where the hell are your par...?" Rodney's rant trailed off. "Never mind."

She was likely one of the orphaned refugees.

Elizabeth watched as the fear and anger fell away to a look of sorrow and shame.

"I'm sorry," one of the refugee women breathlessly ran up to the gate. "She wandered away from the others."

She tried to catch his eyes as she reached out and lifted the child from McKay's arms, "Thank you so much. Her father used to travel through the gate to trade often. She must have been looking for him."

"Of course," Rodney stood and looked anywhere but at the woman. "I'm sure Doctor Weir can arrange a couple of extra people to help you supervise if you need it."

"Of course we can," Elizabeth readily agreed, but her eyes didn't leave Rodney, nor did the refugee woman's.

"You are the scientist," the woman said softly, with wonder. She reached out to touch his arm, but he was already walking away, with his invention trailing behind.

It was then that Elizabeth realized that Kate and Carson were right to be concerned. Rodney wasn't okay. Everyone at the debriefing had told her that Rodney had done everything possible and worked another miracle. Thanks to him they'd saved hundreds of lives. Ambassador Malin had practically sung his praises. But Rodney's own words had been quite different. "You don't think I already know how monumentally I failed?" She had hoped that he'd only been overtired.

"Come," she pushed herself back into the role of city leader and motioned for the woman and child to move away from the gate. "Major Lorne? Would you mind arranging for some extra help in the nursery?"

Lorne nodded, "I know a couple of people who have been missing their nieces and nephews ma'am."

"That sounds perfect." She watched the Major escort his charges from the gate room, then went to find Doctor Beckett.

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Sheppard still had no idea what to say. Maybe it would come to him in a moment of inspiration once he started. He'd heard that the 'resting' scientist was showing off some new gadget in the gate room, which meant that he was probably feeling better and would be in a good mood. His plan was to catch McKay after the 'demonstration'.

That had been his plan when he nearly ran into McKay striding away from the gate room like a bat out of hell. He neatly dodged the distracted scientist, and ducked again when a floating disk that had been going straight for his head swiveled around him.

"Whoah!" McKay and the disk battled for his attention. Since they were together he settled on following both, "Hey, wait up!"

He reached up to bat the disk out of his way so he could walk beside McKay. His fingers tingled and it moved obediently away before he could touch it. Then he noticed that one of the scientists arms was mostly bare, with a long strip of fabric missing from the sleeve of his jacket. "What happened to your sleeve?"

"Huh?" McKay asked and barely slowed down to look at the forgotten arm before snipping, "Oh it was just scattered across the Galaxy."

Sheppard immediately deduced that it was an accident with the gate, "Are you okay?"

His answer came with a sarcastic glare, "Oh sure, near death experiences are my very favourite. I'm just peachy."

"Are you relatively okay?" John tried again.

The agitated scientist stopped and turned to face him, "Relative to what?!"

"I don't know!" Why did talking to McKay always have to be so complicated? "To being fed on by a wraith?"

"Oh," McKay rolled his eyes, "well, then I'm fine."

"Good," John decided to change the subject to something that might actually put the scientist back into a better mood. "You know you're being followed?"

"Yes," McKay snapped, "by you!"

"I mean this thing," Sheppard nodded to the disk hovering to the side of McKay's head.

Rodney looked at the forgotten piece of technology, "It's either a new surveillance drone or a ridiculously advanced child's toy." He watched Sheppard reach up and try to bat at it, "Looking at you, maybe both."

Sheppard withdrew his hand sheepishly, "Okay… well I was hoping we could continue our talk."

"Not now," Rodney sighed, "Listen, I just want to get a change of clothes and … I don't know what else but not talk."

"Okay," Sheppard said to the wall, because McKay was already striding away. He'd have to try again later.

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"Bah," Beckett grumbled. He'd checked all the labs and found no sign of Rodney. Thanks to Elizabeth's tip he'd checked the piers, but there was no sign of him there. He'd even gone up to the piano tower. The thin layer of dust that had settled suggested that Rodney hadn't been up there for a good long while. Apparently he'd lost interest in music just as he'd lost interest in comic books. Carson added that to the list of things to be worried about. Wherever Rodney was he must have wanted to be alone, which meant there was no more use in looking for him. He'd come out when he got hungry. Then Carson could net him and drag him back to the infirmary. He was supposed to be resting, with no excitement or distractions to divert him from reflecting on all the things he'd been avoiding. Building and testing more of his confounded inventions did not qualify as resting. Gate diving under opening wormholes most certainly didn't qualify as resting. If he couldn't keep out of trouble on his own, he'd have to be supervised.

Beckett grumped into his office and picked up a clipboard. He may as well get some work done until Rodney showed up. A lot of supplies had been used in the past few days since the disaster. An inventory check would be in order. He strode to the store room and nearly stumbled in surprised when he saw Rodney sitting there on the floor, across from Doctor Keller, with an assortment of empty gauze rolls and nail polish between them. They were completely intent on their activity, and on each-other.

"There we go, all dry," Doctor Keller finished blowing on a disk and handed it back to Rodney. The disk was bright red, with eyes, a nose, and whiskers painted onto it. Baubles of various shapes and colours dangled from the bottom and two little cat ears poked out the top. "It's a good thing we didn't get around to throwing away all these empty rolls yet!"

"Lucky us," Rodney mumbled from behind his laptop. "Should we test the strength of the attachments again? I'd hate for any of them to be a choking hazard."

"You worry too much," Doctor Keller smiled as he tugged and fussed at all the dangly doodads. "This is completely safe. Trust me. I have a degree in paediatrics!"

"Is there anything you don't have a degree in?" Rodney smiled back a little.

"Medically?" Keller lifted her head a little smugly, "not much."

Rodney pressed a button on the top of the contraption. It floated up and turned to look at her.

She beamed brightly at it, "Well, that's just adorable."

"Mmm,"Rodney muttered. His attention was now more on the laptop. "Your idea to anthropomorphize it was a good one. I was just going to dangle some ribbon from it."

"What'cha doin' now?" She craned her neck to see the screen.

"I'm modifying the navigation protocol to order it to go to the nursery and stay within that area. Then hopefully they'll be too interested in it to contemplate wandering off again. Maybe they'll even tire themselves out trying to bat at it. Children are surprisingly like cats, a lot more work and not so good with the litter training. I prefer cats, actually. Ugh," he grunted in pain as he unfolded his legs and moved to stand.

"Oh here, let me help you," Doctor Keller said quickly and then grunted at her own pain as she tried to stand after sitting in one position too long.

They laughed at each-other, and with the aid of the wall they helped each other up. Their eyes met. For a moment neither moved nor spoke.

Realizing, to his shame, that he'd been eavesdropping, Carson cleared his throat. The two drew back from each other. Rodney busied himself with the gadget, while Doctor Keller cleaned up the crafting materials.

"Sorry about the mess, Doctor Beckett," she stammered, "I'll have it cleaned up in a jiffy."

"Carson," Rodney stammered awkwardly, "I was just, I mean we were just… Jennifer was helping me with…"

"Is that the blighted reconnaissance drone I've already heard so much about?" Beckett folded his arms.

"I'll just go see if I'm needed in the main infirmary." Jennifer scooted around her boss with a parting, "Good luck, Rodney."

"Actually, it's more of an electronic babysitter now," Rodney explained. He turned and waved it away. Apparently it accepted motion commands because it flew out the door. "Once it's in position it will run facial recognition and record everyone below this high," he motioned to a point on his chest. "If one of those leaves the room without someone this high," he raised his hand to a little under his own head, "an alarm will sound. If this doesn't keep the little beasts out of trouble until we find them another planet, nothing will."

He turned the laptop screen to Beckett. Sure enough, the wee gadget had found its way to the nursery and was scanning the children as they giggled and swiped at it.

"The video feed and alarm will hook into Elizabeth's computer, Lorne's computer, and the infirmary computers if anything happens." He finished his explanation.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Rodney," Carson had to admit, "but you're not supposed to be working."

"Actually, it was less about being thoughtful and more about self-preservation," Rodney pointedly ignored the part about not working.

Carson wasn't about to let him get away with that, "Aye, about that. What's this I hear about you showing off your crazed inventions and diving under wormholes? You're supposed to be resting!"

"I hardly expected that to happen!" Rodney defended.

"It's the hub of the city." Beckett continued unabated, "It's our connection to every other world. Something always happens there! You're banned from the Gate Room until I say otherwise. Also, building and testing a reconnaissance drone counts as work whether you do it in a lab or not! You're supposed to be relaxing, unwinding, and reflecting."

"I tried! I was bored!" Rodney moaned, "You're a doctor, why are you trying to make me suffer?!"

"Boredom isn't a medical condition. Exhaustion is!" Beckett jabbed a finger at his stubborn patient and friend, "So is stress! You're just going to have to find something else to do."

The work-a-holic sighed and followed Carson out of the store room, "I guess I could play around in the archaeology department for the day..."

"That's work!" Carson rolled his eyes with exasperation.

"It's not my work," Rodney argued, "Honestly, it's barely even science. Not unlike medicine."

Jennifer looked up from the file she'd been marking and smirked.

"Present company excluded, of course," Rodney quickly amended to her.

She smiled a little more broadly at that and shot Carson a gloating look, "Thank you, Rodney."

Beckett stepped around Rodney so as to block his view of her and regain his attention, "Can y'really not think of anything at all to do?"

"What were you doing?" Rodney changed the subject.

"Checking supplies," Carson answered automatically. "We may have to call on some allies here in Pegasus to help refresh our medical supplies."

"Ooo. I can help you with that," Rodney's eyes lit up. "I've got it all memorized from our first year here. Every contact we made, what supplies they had access to, what trading partners they had and what trading partners their trading partners have."

"For Pete's sake man, have you never relaxed before?" Carson shook his head in disbelief, "Being sick doesn't count."

"Of course I have. Just not for a whole day..."

Carson shook his head in disbelief, "When was the last time you had a vacation?"

"Um..." Rodney looked mystified, "from one job to do another job?"

"No! Not from one job to do another job!" Carson stared at the confused look. "Wait a minute. When you took a break from Area 51…"

"It was to go to the Pentagon," Rodney finished the sentence.

"And a break from the Pentagon?" Carson asked needlessly. He could see now where this was going.

"Usually either the SGC, or back to Area 51," Rodney finished, "Where ever there was something moderately interesting to do."

After a moment Carson stopped gaping and set his clipboard aside, "Right. That's it. Come on."

"What are you doing?" Rodney followed, though he was a little worried by the determination in Carson's stride.

"We're going fishing."

In no time at all, the two men were on one of the lower piers with two lawn chairs, two fishing poles and a tackle box. Carson was tackling and hooking a line while Rodney watched him skeptically.

"You realize there's no fish here?" It was more of an observation than a complaint.

"You never know," Carson optimistically added some bait.

"No, really," Rodney continued to eye the whole process with skepticism, "I checked on the life signs detector on numerous occasions. There are no fish anywhere around this city."

"That's not the point anyway," Carson handed Rodney the fishing pole, and picked up his own prepared line.

Surely the point of fishing was to catch fish, "What is the point?"

"To relax," Carson demonstrably cast his line into the water and relaxed into one of the chairs.

"Wait a minute," Rodney felt he had to be missing something here. This made no sense, "We just sit here, with our lines in the water... why... just to have them in the water?!"

"It's like meditating," his friend explained patiently.

"I'm terrible at meditating."

Carson smirked, "Just enjoy the feeling of the currents tugging the line, and look at the view! Fishing is about patience. You sometimes stand still for hours waiting for something to catch on the line."

"Nothing is going to catch on our lines."

"Humour me," Carson motioned to the other seat and was pleased to see Rodney test the resistance of the reeling mechanism, then cast his own line into the water. "We can talk quietly."

"Why quietly?"

"Because loud noises scare the fish away," Carson informed cheerfully.

"There's no fish!" Rodney's voice practically squeaked with incredulity.

Carson answered with a patient tone, "Think of it as practice for when we go someplace where there are."

Rodney sighed and sagged into his seat and muttered, "Crack pot."

Carson just rested his head back and closed his eyes.

Several hours later, Carson was snoring loudly and Rodney was still sitting with his line in the water. He actually wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting there. Carson had confiscated all technology, and the water was strangely lulling.

Even though he knew there were no fish Rodney couldn't help a small wince every time he reeled his empty line back in and recast it. He didn't actually think he could stand to even cast his line into the water if there were fish out there. The thought of a hook in the poor creatures mouth, the feel of it struggling on the line as it slowly loses the battle and is eventually drug to shore, exhausted, to suffocate... How did that become fun? What an awful, unnecessary way to die. He hated the idea of hunting too. He could eat meat and fish alright. He'd never consider becoming a vegetarian. But that didn't mean he wanted to do the actual killing, or drag it out unnecessarily. He supposed that made him a hypocrite and a bit of a wimp. If he had to catch fish he'd rather use a stun grenade, or maybe an electrical current in the water.

Other than that this was actually kind of relaxing. It wasn't as if he never stepped out to enjoy the view. He just usually felt like there was something else he ought to be doing so didn't really stay out too long.

He yawned and let his thoughts drift as he watched the water ripple. Waves pushed gently into the city and bounced back into other waves, creating a seemingly chaotic pattern as some were cancelled out to create areas of calm, while others pushed back with sufficient force to splash upwards or outwards to create new ripples in the pattern. He thought about how the whole universe was filled with waves of sound and light and radiation.

He felt the line tighten as the currents tugged on the hook. The line and pole gently shifted to and fro, mirroring the movement of the tide. He could imagine the end of the pole mapping the movement in the air. "That's it," he whispered. "Maintaining even a small stable wormhole through subspace takes too much energy, but establishing a single point of quantum entanglement would be like casting a hook in the water. Once it's strung together it's just a matter of finding a way to record and interpret the surrounding fields… Like sonar. Heh. Simple."

He tucked the fishing pole between his legs and very carefully reached over to the bag hanging on the back of Carson's chair, careful not to wake him. A gentle zip and tug had his laptop free and he was soon typing up the theory, alongside a few preliminary equations and proofs. He compressed the file and slipped it into the data package Zelenka had already prepared for the next transmission to Earth before sneaking the laptop back into Carson's bag and picking the pole back up, feeling quite satisfied.

"What are you doing?" a quiet voice rumbled behind him.

Rodney looked up and saw Ronon towering above him. "We're fishing," he whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Ronon asked with a pointed look at the loudly snoring man. Carson was known to be a heavy sleeper.

"Because, when you're fishing you're supposed to whisper so that it doesn't scare the fish away," Rodney tried to explain though it made as little sense to him.

The pragmatic warrior raises his eyebrows at this, "Didn't you say there was no fish around the city?"

"Yes", Rodney snipped, fully aware of how stupid this sounded, "but apparently that's not the point."

"Then what's the point?"

"...practice," Rodney sighed.

"Practice?" Ronon looked skeptical.

"Look, I don't know. Okay? It was his idea!" he pointed accusingly at the sleeping man.

"Uh huh," Ronon smirked, "Are you guys coming to dinner or are you hoping to catch an imaginary meal here?"

"Oh har har!" Rodney was no longer whispering, "Carson, wake up! Food."

"Huh, what?" the bleary eyed physician looked at the lowering sun, "Oh. Let's pack up then!"

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Rodney stifled a yawn. He'd taken a quick shower to try to wake himself up before dinner, to no avail. Carson had said he'd be more tired than usual. There was a small battle between how comfortable his pillow looked right now and hollow his stomach felt. His stomach won.

He automatically picked up his laptop before stepping out of his quarters and turning towards the commissary.

Ever the multitasker, he keyed into the surveillance feed of the children. They were all where they were supposed to be and fast asleep. A quick rewind of the feed confirmed that his plan had worked. The simplistic little beasts had exhausted themselves chasing the drone around the room. His smug smile fell away as he began to recognise some of them. That one's parents had been working on the wind farms. Another's mother had been a chemist. She must have been with the batteries when they blew. Don't think about it. He chided himself and brought up the days lab reports instead. By the time he reached the commissary he was engrossed in a gravitational field study.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his team sitting at their usual table. There was an empty seat where he used to sit, and beside it was the spot where Freeman used to pull up a chair and pester him. He couldn't look at it without seeing a flash of the disarming smile and feeling his hand slap down on his back. He gripped his laptop tighter and walked on by.

"Hey, McKay, what's your hurry?" Sheppard grinned lopsidedly up at him.

"I have a lot of work to catch up on," Rodney excused and tried to continue walking.

But he could never seem to bring himself to pointedly ignore Teyla, "Did not Doctor Beckett order you to rest?"

Reluctantly he turned back to the table and Teyla, "It's just some reading; experiment notes and such. It's perfectly restful."

He looked around for someplace else to sit. The commissary was more full than usual. Refugees were spread among most of the tables, chatting with the marines who were no doubt assigned to escorting them and seeing to their needs. These tables quieted one by one as heads turned to look at him. He wasn't hungry anymore.

"A-actually, I just remembered that I forgot something," he stammered and quickly turned to leave. The labs would be quiet this time of day.

"Hey Rodney, wait a minute," Sheppard stood to stop him, but Rodney had already stopped moving. A woman stood in the entrance staring death at him.

She raised a hand and pointed straight at him, "WRAITH WORSHIPPER!"

"W-what?!" Rodney squeaked out and took a surprised step back as she rushed towards him.

Ronon was standing in her path in an instant and Sheppard at his side an instant later.

"Inna, no," Malin ordered. Several refugees were already pulling her back.

She stared only at McKay, tears streaming down her face, "I told them not to let strangers near the sacred temple! The Ancestors would have returned if you hadn't interfered and desecrated their offerings! They only forsook us because WE drew from the temple that which was not ours to take! You came to seal our fate!"

"L-let me explain. It was damaged." McKay stammered, "Yes it was because you used it in a way it wasn't meant to be used but you see t-there was this component."

Her face only twisted in rage as she pulled towards him, "The first stones fell when you arrived!"

"Get her out of here," Malin stepped past her and looked apologetically at Sheppard's team, "She was part of the religious sect. They can be quite superstitious. Her people would even refuse medical care in favour of faith in the Ancestors. Perhaps as a result, they were a minority. Only a handful remain. I assure you that the majority of our people understand and appreciate all that you have done for us."

But McKay had eyes only for her as she was dragged away by her own people, "The Ancestors full wrath fell upon us only after YOU destroyed the temple. Malin said you came to save us, but I knew better! Destroyer! Murderer!"

"I'm sorry," McKay said quietly. The apology was lost in the cacophony of refugees who suddenly surged around him, all talking to him at once having waited for their opportunity to thank him.

"Calm yourselves! Please!" Malin yelled over them to no avail.

Rodney kept his eyes down and followed as his team created a buffer zone between him and the crowd and ushered him out of the room.