CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

The entire dome suddenly filled with white light, and Ford vaguely recalled his voice echoing with Colonel Luphron's as they all scrambled towards the hole in the wall, both men shouting for everyone to run. The actions were such a blur that he almost wasn't sure they had made it—until the light looming before his blinking eyes resolved into sunlight.

Breathing heavily, feeling a strange tingling all over his body, he pushed himself off the concrete earth he'd landed on and looked around. Teyla was already up—the woman could fly when she ran—and she was checking on the Deucalions still lying on the ground after they had dived through the opening.

He frowned when he realized that he did not see everyone that had been inside with them. Stepping over those still lying on the ground, he peered back into the now very dark Central Courtyard. Lights around the walls had come on, probably normally used when it was nighttime, but the illumination they shed seemed woefully inadequate compared to the brightness of before.

About three guards and Colonel Luphron were lying still inside the dome, out cold.

He leaned further into the hole and looked up. The glass illusion was completely gone. He could clearly see the floor of the hidden room up above, metal and concrete crisscrossed in an ugly, but efficient pattern.

He felt a presence behind him, and he turned to see Lieutenant Che staring at him. Her face was bloodied a little—she must have hit the ground hard when she'd dived—but she didn't seem to notice the hurt.

"Excuse me," she asked with polite formality. Ford nodded and backed away from the opening, allowing her to climb through to check on her people. As he turned back to the others, he saw Governor Borin watching him with a dark expression from where she sat, rubbing at her right shoulder. There was blame and anger in her gaze, both of which he chose to ignore. Instead, he hit his radio.

"Major?" he waited a couple of minutes, then tried again, "Major Sheppard, respond."

His eyes lifted to meet Teyla's when he still didn't receive an answer, and saw hers lower to the ground.

He tapped his radio again, "Stackhouse, do you read me?"

"Yes sir."

"Stackhouse, the Major's not responding. Can you see anything from up there?"

"We saw a flash of very bright light inside the hole in the roof, sir, about the same time we saw all of you dive out of the dome. Are you all right sir?"

"Yes, we're fine. A few of the Duecalions have been hurt..." he trailed off, looking into the dark interior of the dome. To his relief, he saw Colonel Luphron shaking his head and pushing himself up to his knees, while Lieutenant Che was reviving the other three, "...but alive." He looked up, saw the puddle jumper overhead and waved. "Go fly as close as you can to the hole in the roof, see if you can see anything inside. I also think the shield protecting it might be...."

"Yes, it's gone sir. I...yes, the ship is reading...two life signs inside. They're still alive, sir!" There was no hiding the joy Stackhouse felt at this information.

Ford couldn't resist a grin of his own, "That's the best news I've heard in a long while Stackhouse. I'm going to keep trying to rouse the Major, you­­--"

"The Major's roused," Sheppard's weak voice interrupted over the transmitter.

-----------------------------------------------------

The phrase "hit by a Mac truck" crossed his mind as Sheppard groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at the now luminescent hole in the ceiling. The room was completely dark with the Weapon shut down, something not helped by the color of the walls, and it accentuated the brightness of the sunlight. There was a surprising lack of dust motes--this place was disgustingly clean.

He listened to Ford talk to Stackhouse for a moment over the radio, bringing his memory up to speed, before nudging the transmitter on his radio to announce that he was awake. Sort of.

His head was hammering like he'd been downing tequila shots while headbanging at a Metallica concert....Oooh that thought brought up some nasty high school memories....

With another groan he rolled onto his front this time and worked on getting his feet under him, which every muscle in his body seemed to protest by overloading his pain sensors. Ignoring them, he pushed up on his haunches, using the console for leverage, and let his eyes adjust to the now near darkness. The glow that had been infusing this room from indefinable sources had gone completely out, so his only illumination was the sun through the roof.

He heard Stackhouse saying something about flying closer to the hole, and suddenly a shadow covered it.

"Back off, Stackhouse," he croaked into the radio. "That's my only light."

"Sorry sir." The shadow fell back. "Just tell us what you need."

"I will. Sheppard out." And he shut the radio off.

Turning, he sought McKay in the shadows.

Relief surged through him to see the doctor still in that chair...still with him. He'd been half afraid he'd wake up by himself. Sunlight from the roof placed McKay's right arm in stark relief from the rest of him...and it also showed the metal cuffs had been opened.

Shoving off the console, he used the momentum to stagger over to the scientist, leaning heavily on the arm of the chair when he got there. He felt weaker than a kitten, and was drawing on reserves of adrenalin to keep himself going.

"McKay," he whispered, reaching out with one hand to touch the scientist's face. It was ice cold. "McKay, can you hear me?" He let his hand drift down and pressed his fingers to the side of the man's neck, unconsciously holding his breath.

It seemed like hours before he realized he could feel a very faint pulse. It was erratic. Not good.

Leaning forward, he put his ear next to the man's mouth, closing his eyes.

The faintest sound of breathing. But he was breathing.

Sheppard almost collapsed from gratitude.

Straightening, he tapped the radio again.

"Captain Dunne, you read me?"

"Yes sir."

"I need you to dial Atlantis. Tell them we need a medical team here immediately. Doctor McKay is critically hurt and I very much doubt they have the facilities here to help him."

"Yes sir. What's the nature of the injuries?"

"I...I'm not sure exactly. Tell them...tell them something like electrocution...or radiation poisoning...or maybe heatstroke..." his fingers touched McKay's frozen face again, "or hypothermia."

There was a pause, then a tentative, "Sir, did you just say it could be heatstroke or hypothermia? Aren't those sort of the opp--"

"Dunne! I'm not a doctor! All I know is that he's dying and you're wasting time. Just tell them to get here!"

"Yes sir! Sorry sir. We'll tell them."

"ASAP, captain. Emphasize the critical part. I don't know how much time he has."

"Yes sir. Dunne out."

"Major, you need help up there?" Ford's voice asked over the radio.

"Probably, lieutenant. I'll let you know."

"Yes sir."

Sheppard stared at the unconscious man in front of him, then down at the blood-caked wrists. His expression darkened.

"I probably shouldn't move you," he muttered angrily, "but like hell I'm going to let you stay sitting on this thing."

Ignoring all of his own aches and pains, he crouched and snaked one arm under McKay's shoulders, under his arms, and the other under his bent legs. Gritting his teeth, he lifted, expecting Rodney to be heavy.

It was with some surprise, then, to find he wasn't as cumbrous as he looked. McKay was much leaner than his baggy clothes suggested, and the Major ended up lifting him much higher than he intended, forcing him to stagger back a step in order to keep his balance and not tip over. With a grunt, he turned, his burden safely ensconced in his arms, McKay's head lolling against his shoulder. Shifting a little, Sheppard swiveled around and moved to lie the doctor down in the square of sunlight on the floor.

With an incredible gentleness, he placed the scientist down and pulled off his own vest and jacket, rolling up the latter to use as a pillow. When he was done, he rested his head against his chest, listening again for the pulse and to his breathing.

He only felt the faint, slow pulse.

"Damn it," he hissed, settling himself into a seated position by McKay's head. Removing the "pillow," he tipped McKay's head back to open his airway. Placing his ear next to McKay's lips, he listened again.

Crap.

"No you don't, McKay," he hissed, taking in a deep breath to prepare himself and letting it out slowly, "I didn't just possibly destroy one of the most powerful weapons against the Wraith I have ever seen just to let you die now."

He took in another deep breath, pinched the doctor's nose shut, then leaned over and breathed for his friend. His eyes watched the scientist's chest puff up, then recede. Taking in another deep breath, he repeated the procedure, then leaned forward to listen.

Nothing.

"No, no, no," he muttered, pulling in another breath. Twice more he tried to resuscitate McKay, watching the chest rise and fall. Before the third attempt, he pressed his fingers to McKay's neck.

Oh God.

He hit the radio, panting a little as he spoke and feeling a little lightheaded.

"Dunne...tell Beckett that McKay's not breathing and his heart's stopped. I'm going to give him CPR. I'll need you up...."

And that's when the Weapon woke up.

-------------------------------------------------------

TBC

A/N – Sorry for the delay everyone! I was accused of witchcraft in Salem and had to stand trial....okay, so I just went to Salem and only saw a witch trial, but the point is that Columbus Day weekend provided some wonderful distractions and I couldn't get near the computer for about five days. I'm back on track now! Sorry about that!