A BEE IN THE BONNET
by NotTasha
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PART 12: CAMEL

McKay had considered the possibilities – trying to muster a plan, but nothing would come to him. He had no tools, no light, no brain to speak of. Perhaps, if he could see the wiring around him, he might have stood a chance at MacGyvering something fantastic, but all his attempts to claw at the tubes had been fruitless. Whoever designed the space had done a good job – it wasn't going to be easily damaged.

So he did the only thing he could think of – rather lame, really. Not up to his normal standards, but his resources were rather low at that moment. Besides, the hole was so damn small, it wasn't as if he had many choices. He doubted that he could have forced much through it. He'd managed to work a length of thread out of the cuff of his sleeve – cautiously – careful not to break the fine fiber. Then he worried it, trying to turn the single slim piece into something bigger – something that might be seen. Painstakingly, he'd compressed it again, and eased it through that little hole in his roof. It had been difficult to hold his arms in that position, to lift them, to keep those trembling limbs still while he worked. He felt so heavy, so tired, so stupid. At times, the task was like trying to force a camel through the eye of a needle. He'd manage it, he promised himself. He was a meticulous person after all – but this simple task was almost beyond him.

He'd rested when he completed that task … and waited… waited for the sound of someone walking above. How long would it take? It might take days -- the corridor was rarely used.

Why would anyone pass this way?

He drifted again, trying to concentrate, knowing that he was failing… that he was fading. He wasn't going to last much longer – not like this.

He tried to concentrate – on anything – to keep his mind awake. He imagined empty backyards, Smartfood, balloons, polyester mummies and grinning photographers, macaroni and cheese MREs, and Lawrence Welk waggling his baton. He saw Antarctica with its endless wasteland, and camels slipping through needle eyes and walking through an eternal desert. He blinked in the darkness, trying to see the thread in the tiny hole above his head, knowing it was there.

And then it came – the muffled clomping of someone walking just above his head. At first, he thought it was merely the camel, coming closer, wending its way through an empty desert – toward nowhere – to nothing. He could see it clearly in his minds-eye.

He listened… closer.

… someone was coming. He wanted to shout out, but his throat ached and tongue was too thick in his mouth. He gripped the little string with one hand and tried to pound with the other, but the ceiling – crisscrossed with protected wires and tubes – left him no surface to get a clean whack at it. Besides, the quality of sound coming from the feet above was muted, as if some sort of insulation rested between them. Would anyone even hear?

He couldn't yell. He couldn't pound. He'd have to trust a tiny, unraveled thread to catch someone's eye. He had to hope that whoever walked above him – would pause.

Please…

And then the tramping stopped just above him, and he released a sigh. Here was his chance!

Placing all of his hope in one basket, he twisted the thread. Please… With his other hand, he slammed a fist against the tubing above him – knowing the sound wouldn't reach anyone – but he had to try.

See it! Come on already! Just look down. It's as plain as day! I mean, who wouldn't notice a little thread dancing on the flooring?

Unable to hold both hands above him anymore, he let one drop, still hanging to the filament with the other. God, his head hurt – it buzzed and throbbed. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was useless by this point. You know, this is ridiculous. No one will see the little thing. This is useless… worthless… pointless. But still he tried, waving around that little piece of nothing…even though his arm burned with the effort and his fingers ached. Please…

And then he felt resistance. Oh no! You got it stuck! You've ruined everything! It was your only hope! He tried to pull it back – and then the thread slipped from his fingers.

NO! No! No no no no… oh no…

He tried to find the string again, but it was gone…

Oh God! He had to get another thread, work one out of his other cuff… but why? Why. What was the point? By the time he'd managed that, this person would have moved on. No one would have seen it anyway. Why'd you even try it? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you are? What a fool… what a godforsaken fool.

Even the light went away, as if something blocked it the hole… totally, finally.

With a miserable sigh, McKay let his hand drop to his chest. He closed his eyes, letting himself succumb to the blackness that had been pulling at him for so long. Above him, his ceiling rang with a sudden violence and he thought, perhaps, he heard someone call his name.

But… at least… the buzzing finally went away.
TBC --
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A/N - Hang in there, McKay! Help is on the way!