Chapter 13

Rodney McKay pushed at the railing of his bed, but time has robbed him of all strength. In fact, it was rare these days that he even had this little strength left to him. Yet time has not robbed him of his memories; indeed, it has caused memories he had thought unreachable to come to the surface. Unfortunately he found it difficult to speak, so he could tell no-one. Besides, there was nobody left on earth who would believe him.

Only a few years ago Radek Zelenka had died of a heart attack. A year younger than Rodney, the death of his friend had been difficult to bear. It had been even more difficult as Radek had been the last Atlantean Rodney had known. After the Czech's death he had been alone. Even Jeannie had stopped visiting him by then. Not that she didn't believe him – no, she too had been on Atlantis. But she had always had a more pragmatic view on life than he did, and she had accepted the fact that something strange had happened in 1985. But she, along with a few of those from the meeting, like Jennifer Keller and Cadman, hadn't been at the second get-together in the restaurant. He guessed that no matter how she had ended up on Atlantis, those that had not been at the restaurant had not been of the original team that had gone to Atlantis.

But now Jeannie, too, was dead. In fact, Madison, her daughter, had died before her mother in an accident. Strange, Madison had somehow also known something was different about her, even if she had been born years after that day in 1985. The only other person with whom Rodney had had any contact had been Carson Beckett. But nearly fifteen years ago Carson had disappeared and Rodney had been unable to find any information on the doctor in the years since.

So now Rodney was finally alone. As he lay with his hands slumped on his shrunken chest, he reflected on his life. He had realised years ago that he had not deserved any of the friends he had had. Jeannie was family, but the rest of them had been people he should not have been able to call 'friend.' And it wasn't because they were not scientists that they would not have been friends, but because Rodney had finally realised he was an egocentric asshole who had never taken the time to learn how to treat people.

He mused on this for a little while. Then his thoughts shifted to a forgotten life unlived on Atlantis. But, as always these days, he drifted off to sleep. Time had robbed him not just of strength of body, but also of the strength to fight. These days sleep was the biggest comfort in his life.

Once during the night he woke as a nurse came to turn him onto his other side. He wondered why she bothered. From the open doorway he the faint notes of a song. He actually knew the song: it was very old. As the nurse worked he listened to song. The lyrics echoed in his head:

Now take the hourglass

And turn it on its head,

For when the sands are still

'Tis when you'll find me dead.

He wondered at the mentality of a nurse that would play a song like that in an old-age nursing home.

He must have made some kind of noise, for the nurse – already self an older woman – leaned over him.

"What is it, Mister McKay?" she asked. She took out a tissue from her pocket and wiped at the corner of his mouth. The nurses hated the idea of drool forming in the corners of it, but there was little he could do about it.

And for a moment the veil of memory slid aside and he remembered – remembered – a moment when he had woken from being hit in the face by a Wraith stunner for the first time and John had laughed at him. Carson had kept wiping at the corner of his mouth then as well while he had been unable to help it. He smiled now: in time all of them had been hit so many times by stunners they had actually built up a resistance against the prolonged effects thereof.

Now, unable to answer the nurse, she wiped a final time before leaving. Slowly he drifted off to sleep as the woman on the radio (or whatever) ended her song:

Now take the hourglass

And turn it on its head,

For when the sands are still

'Tis when you'll find me dead.

O, light the candle John,

The daylight is almost gone,

The birds have sung their last

The bells call all to mass...

And at the age of ninety-three, Meredith Rodney McKay died in his sleep.

Silence...endless silence. Then: the pain and light of birth...

"Just give me a moment, will you!" Rodney yelled as he worked on his equasions.

"McKay..." John hurried his friend along.

"John!" Elizabeth suddenly yelled over the two of them, her eyes wide.

Tearing metal, a grinding noise and the sound of the world coming apart...then...silence...but after an eternity that seemed like a moment a blinding light and the sound of life...

They were in the chair-room: Rodney, Elizabeth, John and Radek. Only minutes before they had been warned that somehow Atlantis' current path would take them through an event horizon: a black hole. Normally Atlantis self would correct the course, but this black hole had been hidden inside a nebula and Atlantis' sensors had not picked it up until it was too late. The four of them had instantly rushed to the chair-room for John to try and manually correct their course, but it had been too late: they had been drawn into the black hole.

At the moment of impact, Rodney and Radek had frantically been trying to calculate what effect their travelling through a black hole in hyperspace would have on them. John had been concentrating on steering the city-ship and Elizabeth had been helplessly standing to one side, watching the drama unfold. Elizabeth had been looking at the countdown on the screen in front of John, and the moment of impact had forced her to call his name.

But now the four of them stood in silence as the events of a lifetime suddenly set in.

"What the hell just happened?" Elizabeth demanded.

Rodney looked up and looked around. He lifted a finger in explanation, but lowered it slightly. Finally he looked at Radek, who shrugged. "I think we went through the black hole," the Czech answered.

"Is it just me or did some weird...stuff...just happen?" John asked, narrowing his eyes.

Rodney tapped at his tablet. "The weirdest part seems to be that we are all right." He looked up, relief written on his face. "We're all right," he repeated.