AN: Again, another edited version, thanks to Bastet and Gaffer for the Beta. Finally, chapter four is off to the two and after editing it will be up in short order, so coming soon! Thanks for the continued reviews, it keeps me inspired.
Chapter Three
Lost in the Woods
Sheppard was holding his breath, letting out small amounts of air to try and maintain calm. If there was any hope of getting out of this alive, he had to keep himself from panicking. He felt his arms drag along the bottom of the riverbed, and then felt himself released from the current's hold. The water had dragged him under like an incensed shark, but like an animal toying with it's prey, it spit him back out, and he felt his body begin to rise. He released another small puff of air, feeling the bubbles tickle against his skin as they escaped to the surface.
He wasn't going to make it. He pushed out the last bit of remaining oxygen and waited for the foggy warmth that a drowning death brings on. There were worse ways to die. Burning alive, gunshot to the gut, those are painful ways to meet the big guy upstairs. Drowning was peaceful. He'd heard stories that you get all warm and cozy feeling and just drift off, never to wake again. Didn't sound so bad.
Sheppard's body was suddenly jerked by an impact and reflexively he grabbed hold. It was a tree branch, partially submerged in the flooded river. He tugged forward and pushed his head up, and gasped long and hard when his head broke the surface. He choked on water and air as both swam into his mouth. He shoved thoughts of a peaceful death to the side, maybe some day, but not this day. Muscles starved for oxygen fought to obey his commands and he had to hang briefly to get his bearings.
When he'd recovered from his near death, he realized Rodney wasn't around. "McKay!" he cried, hoping if the man was near he'd respond. He strained to hear over the raucous catcalls of the water, and thought maybe he heard the higher pitched tones of a human voice.
He surveyed his position and realized while he was downstream from his attempted crossing, he had latched on to a tree on the same side he'd been trying to reach, which was the good news. The bad news was the force had yanked his boots off his feet, ripped his pack from his shoulders, and he didn't know if he had the strength to scale the branch into the tree and get onto solid ground. In all his life he didn't think he'd ever been this physically exhausted. John knew hanging around wouldn't improve his condition, probably the opposite, so if he was going to get out of this, he'd better start moving now. He needed to get out of this tree and try to find McKay. Gritting his teeth, he pulled one tired hand up and stretched as high as he could manage, tugging his body upwards, trying not to mind the scrapes of rough bark against numb skin as he slid towards his goal.
McKay retched again, feeling the water lurch out of his mouth and splatter on the wet ground, disgusting he thought as he gagged. The initial impact with the river had knocked the breath out of his lungs and he'd inhaled water instead of air. He'd lost sight of the Major, and kicked into survival mode, desperately struggling to get to the edge of the flooded river, and to safety. Something big and bulky had impacted his chest and caused him to swallow another mouthful of the murky water. By the time he'd managed to drag himself onto the shore and away from the engorged body of water, he was throwing up what felt like half the river.
When the cramps had passed, he'd fallen back onto his butt, and rested his head on his knees. This was a nightmare. He'd lost Sheppard, didn't know where he was, and could only hope he wasn't dead. So much for heroic last acts, he thought angrily. He'd tried to save John only to screw it up and almost kill himself in the process.
Rodney raised his head with a jerk. Was that…? He thought he heard Sheppard call his name. "Major!" He tried to holler as loud as possible but his throat was sore from his bout with the river water and came out squeaky.
He held still listening for any reply but the only sounds interpreted by his mind were the signs of angry nature all around him. The wind howled, and the river screamed and amidst it all he realized that if the Major was alive, he needed to get up and go search for him. He could only pray that they'd both landed on this side of the swollen riverbank.
Sheppard was on his feet. Tired, reduced to nothing more than a shirt and pants, but alive and standing. He'd made it and now he only hoped he could find McKay. He didn't have any weapons, flashlights or even a radio. The rain had tapered off to the occasional sprinkle but night had arrived and taken the last vestiges of light to bed. He knew the logical plan was to find a spot as far away from the river as he could manage and hole up for the night. It wasn't cold, that was the good news, but he was soaked to the skin and had a hard time seeing his hand in front of his face, that was the bad news.
"Conditions could be worse," he muttered, needing to hear the sound of his voice. "Not much worse, but worse."
A far away howl of an alien animal caused him to groan with frustration. At least it sounded far away. That was something. He took a tentative step forward, keeping the sound of the river as a guide so he didn't follow a crooked path. He felt the sharp poke from twigs and deadfall and hoped there wasn't worse down there, like a bug. "Don't think of bugs," he murmured, having an unpleasant flashback to the tic-wraith that had caused more trouble than he wanted to remember.
When he looked back at his decision to move through the dark in search of McKay, he knew it was a bad one. He'd made little progress and all he had to show for it was sore feet. If it was even possible, the night had become darker, and the temperature drop left him shivering. It was time to call it quits and hope McKay was taking care of his own needs. Sheppard felt forward and found a tree that was thick and could offer a little shelter. He pulled himself in till he was up against the living hulk in the black night, sliding down against it. He huddled with his knees drawn up and wrapped his arms around as tightly as he could manage to try and conserve heat, his wet clothes bracingly cold against his skin when he moved into a new position. He'd never felt more alone.
McKay let out a frustrated sigh. This wasn't working. He'd started searching in the general direction he thought Sheppard's voice had come from, but now he was beginning to think it had been a figment of his hopeful imagination. Sheppard was probably dead, his corpse floating downstream, and beginning to bloat with water. Nice visual, Rodney, he thought crossly. He couldn't help it. He always had that doom and gloom side to his personality. He was a pessimist; the cup wasn't half full, it was half-empty, they weren't barely alive, they were almost dead.
He stumbled into something solid and cursed, rubbing his tender nose. This was ridiculous. He couldn't see the forest for the trees, literally. He was lucky he hadn't broken something or stumbled into real danger. Real danger, that was a joke. Sheppard was gone, he had lost all sense of direction and he had no idea how he'd find the gate when morning arrived, if it arrived-he'd probably get eaten while he slept, and he'd lost his GDO to send the signal through anyway. He was so screwed.
He put his back against the same tree that had bruised his nose, thinking it seemed ironic that he could blame the tree for his black eye and get the Major out of trouble for punching him earlier. He dropped to the ground and leaned his head back, letting his eyes close. He'd never felt more alone.
McKay woke to the soft whispers of a subdued river. He frowned, his eyes still closed, as his mind reassembled the memories of last night's disastrous events. He groaned as the events played out in his mind like a slide show and he became aware of the damp clothing, and rough ground against his body.
He cracked his eyes and saw that daylight had reclaimed the planet. A smoldering fog lay low over the water, and the sky was the color of molten silver. He heard a snuffling sound behind him and froze. He wasn't alone. He waited in the stillness for the sound to repeat, and it did. Something was breathing nearby. He'd heard some animal howling in the night. Had it found him when the water level dropped enough to cross?
He slid himself forward, very slowly, and cringed when a twig snapped inadvertently under his knee. The breathing hitched, and paused, then settled back into an even pattern. Whatever it was, it was asleep. McKay looked around the wide tree trunk, "Major!" he exclaimed in delighted surprise.
Sheppard jumped awake, startled by the unexpected calling of his name behind him. "McKay?"
"You're alive!" McKay grabbed Sheppard, shaking the man hard enough that his teeth rattled. "Your corpse isn't bloating in the water!"
Sheppard was half-heartedly being tossed by McKay, but pulled back with disgust. "Bloated corpse?"
"Sorry…imagination." McKay scratched his head absently. "You know how it is."
Sheppard nodded. "Yeah, sure," he checked Rodney out looking for any noticeable injuries. "How'd you find me?"
"I didn't," McKay chuckled. "It's kind of funny, actually, but I think we decided to sleep on the same tree last night."
"You mean you were there all along?" Sheppard asked, dumbfounded.
McKay nodded, still grinning with the relief of finding the Major alive.
"Funny." Sheppard didn't actually think it was funny at all, more like sadistic. He'd drifted off last night uncertain if McKay was alive and he'd been beside him all night. Someone had a sick sense of humor.
"Like your uniform." McKay appraised Sheppard's condition. No footwear, scrapes all over his body, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.
"Thanks, thinking about recommending it to Dr. Weir," Sheppard cracked. "Speaking of which, I'm ready to go home."
"About that-" McKay grimaced. "I lost my GDO."
"I have a spare."
"You have a spare?" McKay looked at him like he had grown an extra head. "When did you get a spare? I told Elizabeth we only had so many of these things and she needed to be careful."
"McKay."
"Of all the irresponsible stupid acts, does she realize that it takes parts and time to build new ones, and the new ones haven't even been tested--".
"McKay!" Sheppard called louder.
Rodney frowned, "What?"
"This is exactly why I asked for a spare. I didn't want anyone stranded off world." John explained.
McKay sobered, "Oh, good point."
"Thank you." Sheppard sighed. Despite getting some sleep he was still tired and his muscles ached from the strain. "Could we go now?"
"One problem Major, where is the Stargate?" McKay wasn't certain how far downstream they'd gone last night. He had never been good with directions. As a kid in school the one area he'd failed miserably at was geography. He could read schematics, figure out currents and complicated machinery, but give him a map and a compass and he was in trouble.
Sheppard smiled soft and slow. "I think I can find it."
McKay rolled his eyes. "Fine, lead the way Pocahontas."
"Pocahontas was a girl."
"Your point?"
The two friends walked away from the now innocently babbling baby of a river, the only signs of the monster it had been was torn limbs and caked debris. Shoulder to shoulder, torn clothing and bedraggled bodies, they made their way through the forest. The voices filtered through the air, Sheppard's reply muffled as they got farther away from the river. Home didn't seem far away after all.
