...1...
Sheppard knelt by McKay. "You there?" he said.
Rodney's bad eye was lazy. "Lumi?"
"No, it's me. I'm that blurry, huh?"
"Had a date?" he said, words running together.
"Sorry." Sheppard spoke softly. "Took a wrong turn."
His eyes were distant. "Can't feel my legs."
Sheppard nixed the urge to blurt out 'Oh-my-God'. He couldn't digest it; Gage had crippled McKay. "Hang in there," he said, deciding that Rodney would see only calmness. "I said you'd be all right, didn't I?"
"Not hurt?"
Sheppard affirmed. "Don't talk. Lumi will be back soon." He worried it wouldn't be in time.
"You fell."
"Did. I was lucky. Save your strength."
McKay asked, "Where?"
Sheppard guessed: "Gage?" He glimpsed the protruding hand. From Rodney's location, it could not be seen. "Don't worry about him." He folded McKay's arm in gently, noticed his boots were off. "No talking, rest. I'll be right here." Gage's jacket lay nearby and he picked it up, rolled and tucked it under his neck.
At the door, he scanned the tunnel, wishing Lumi would hurry, concerned the 'bots would return. He didn't want to agitate McKay so he faked a smile. Collecting the boots, he set them by the beam, pacing, talking mainly for himself. In few words: Sheppard was afraid he'd lose it. "Stay with me, McKay," he said. "You're not leaving me with all the work. I expect you up and on duty ASAP. No convalescing and playing sick when we get back either. Weir's not sticking me with some low-ling wet-behind-the-ears, even though it's temporary. I'm not breaking in another civilian. They can offer me a bigger room, fabulous view, extra coffee. Won't matter...Nope, don't worry. They'll be here, they will."
When they weren't, Sheppard stuffed his fears down and sat with him. "I'll keep you company," he said, touching the back of his hand to McKay's marred face. It was clammy and he seemed drugged, sluggish. His arms were dotted with spidery veins, broken vessels. The fingers of his right hand were crooked and there was a red spot in the white of one eye. Bruises had formed quickly under the nanobot siege and the bindings had chewed into his wrists. He didn't stir, his gaze traveling through Sheppard as if searching for a way to leave the world he'd known.
"It won't be long now." At once, Sheppard recognized his statement could have more than one meaning. "That's...long for them to return," he said.
The Chamber flooded with light, a violet cloud-fog, scattered and brilliant. Lumi-Fog had arrived.
Sheppard's composure broke: "Now," he said. "Start. We don't have much time."
Lumi adopted human form. "We are uncertain he can be restored to full functioning."
Sheppard felt a creeping twinge. He didn't want McKay to end up like the Architect. "Try," he said. "I don't have any options."
Lumi was accompanied by the larger cloud of its own kind. "We must lull him into semi-stasis. A deep sleep. This rebuilding requires sustained effort."
"Whatever has to be done," Sheppard said. He turned away from the wound, the stained clothes. "Just hurry it up, will you?"
"I will do my best."
He could've sworn he'd heard Lumi say 'I'; it didn't matter now. "I'll owe you one."
"Bigtime," Lumi said. The larger cloud hovered gracefully over McKay.
Sheppard prepared Rodney. "Listen to me," he said, upset by his expression. "Close your eyes. Lumi knows what to do. In the meantime, you'll sleep, that's all."
"You?" he said, just audible.
"I'll work on getting us something to eat. You'll be starving when you wake up."
McKay obeyed and the cloud descended, entering his ears while Lumi waited. Sheppard leaned against the beam, stricken. It made him nervous to hand McKay's care over to someone else. How would he explain this to everyone in Atlantis?
"You've got to verify this nutty story, no one's going to believe me...if you're...well, you'll be there. Don't worry," he said. He hadn't meant to interrupt, bother them at their work. He couldn't help treating Lumi and its comrades as if they were people. In a way, they were. A collective mind, like a team with very, very small members.
"He is in stasis," said Lumi.
Sheppard nodded, feeling his own aches, a knot on his forehead. He'd been running on adrenaline the whole time, since the rockslide. When they were done with Rodney, perhaps they wouldn't mind patching him up a bit.
McKay's chest barely registered, rattled then stopped. Sheppard panicked, set a hand over Rodney's heart. "He's not breathing," he said.
The human image melted and Lumi returned to its original form, streaming hastily into McKay's mouth.
The corners of McKay's eyelids twinkled with violet, some on his lips. "Come on, what are you doing in there?" Sheppard contained his own breathing to better sense McKay's. Did they know a human could only go a few minutes without air? In his condition, maybe less than normal. "Nothing, guys, nothing..."
The chest heaved; McKay inhaled, anchored in a deep sleep. Sheppard monitored him a moment, counting a few breaths, and sighed. Rising, he went to the water and drank, splashed his face before resuming his vigil. There was something else he had to do: He gathered up the broken pieces of McKay's bootlaces and rethreaded the top two holes of his boots. Carefully, he straightened Rodney's sagging socks and slipped the boots on his feet, tied them off. When McKay was ready to walk again...and he would walk again...he'd need his boots.
He rested against the beam. The shimmering fog swirled about the gunshot wound like vapor. A strangely beautiful sight. "Too bad we can't rewind everything. I should've put the Jumper into a nose dive right from the get-go...would've really knocked Gage off his feet...could've pounced on him, something," he said, voice low. "Should've never let him force us out of the hangar bay." There was a glow around McKay's throat. "This'll save Beckett a lot on bandages. More efficient than a hospital. Nobody likes those. Take a number. You get first-class service here. As soon as you're okay, we'll concentrate on getting home."
He sized up the room. "This place gives me goosebumps. Too confining. Didn't get that so much before. Ever been to Carlsbad Caverns? The Big Room Cave is over thirty football fields long. That's a lot of football. First time I went, I was seven. Pretty skeptical kid. Even then I wanted to go up into the sky, not down into the Earth. The sky was big, eagles lived there. Caverns were great but there's no sun. You have to have sun. Eagles know."
He scratched his head; dirt trickled out. The Jumper would need digging out, lots of repair. Unearth their ID transmitters. The Lumi-fog was probably good at that, too. If they could get the Jumper up and purring, maybe they could unblock a pathway to the surface, fly it up and out, seal the opening before the 'bots found out. They would attack again, once they refueled and recovered, what was left of them. After that, he could backtrack and signal, get home. To his cot, fresh clothes, safe sunshine. He yawned, ran fingers through his wet hair. The water had been a comfort.
Rodney's chest was rising, everything fine, going well, up and down, in and out; violet sprinkles, a gentle hum, water drips, my own respiration, nanolight cutting aside the dark zone, dampness, smell of dust on clothes, blood on the floor, almost over, dozing, unwilling to sleep...what will I find?
...2...
"Crap." Sheppard awoke to an unsettling tremor. The ceiling hailed lumps to the floor, cracks enlarged before him, one running a ragged line under his feet, hunks of wall tossed out. He bounced up, put his arms under McKay's and sat him up, lifted and dragged him out to the intersection between artificial and natural tunnels, hauling him a few meters into the latter passageway. There he laid and sheltered him from debris with his body. When the quake halted, he was grateful the tunnel had survived. Chamber One-Three-Six had begun to collapse, beams giving way.
The dust settled. McKay's eyelids fluttered. When he opened them, Sheppard moved close, fascinated by the violet specks. The red spot in the white had disappeared. He checked McKay's wound. Scar tissue had begun to show, encircling the hole, badly bruised and swollen all around, but improved. His fingers had been straightened and there were fewer spidery veins. Lumi had more work to do.
"How're you doing?" Sheppard said, spreading his jacket over him. McKay's stasis condition had apparently ended. He took it as a good sign. "Feel your legs?"
"No. I'm very tired." He raised a hand to his mouth. "Thirsty."
"Water's down there, in the chamber," he said. "We'll have to ask for more."
McKay blinked, was unnaturally hushed. Sheppard wished the noisy Rodney would show up again.
"When you get your legs, we're moving up in the world, to the Architect's place," Sheppard said, adjusting the jacket over him. He'd relapsed into unconsciousness.
...3...
How much time had gone by? Sheppard scratched his chin, had a stubble crop of about three or four days. Time was faithless here, no sunrise, no moon to signal the night. The nanolight was diligent and dutiful, keeping the tunnel in a subtle warm glow, similar to candles minus heat. Sheppard wondered about the writing on the walls. He'd seen it before but hadn't had time to study it. They were likely numbers, levels. What was weird was how uninhabited the whole complex was, as though no one other than the Architect had ever lived here, or the inhabitants had shipped out, lock, stock and barrel. The console the Architect had been sitting at was a type of computer but none of the rooms had any such thing. Perhaps the Architect had inherited the core of the complex in the same way they had inherited Atlantis.
The Lumi-fog had not shown itself, still embedded within McKay. That was fine. Until the repairs were done right. Trying not to disturb them, he sneaked a protein bar from the jacket and ate half, saved the rest. McKay would need it more than he did. Their water supply would be acceptable; food would be in scarce supply. There was small chance that edibles existed underground other than mushrooms and he wasn't willing to try those, deadly poisonous if they made a mistake. If they managed to get to the surface, the plant life could be harmful considering the high UV levels.
When he felt chilly, he got up, wandered into the tunnel and returned on the run when an aftershock rumbled by. It caused no further damage at their location. And where were the other nanites Lumi-fog had told him of? Shoring up the place? Cooking dinner? Building relentlessly, not knowing when to call it quits? Destroyed by the 'bots or celebrating? Sheppard heard McKay moan. He was warm, otherwise impassive. Lifting his soiled shirt, he saw improvement in the wound, the scar tissue closing in a millimeter or two. Progress. Lumi wasn't giving up, and neither was McKay. Good for him.
"Good for me," he said aloud.
Mostly he dozed, and after a few hours muttering to himself, dying for a pillow, a fireplace and grilled cheese sandwich, he slid to the ground, pulled in his legs, and contemplated how to unbury the Jumper fast enough so they didn't starve to death first.
...4...
"Curtain's up," McKay said, testing his vision by shutting one eye. "They did it." He lifted his head, noted Sheppard zonked out near the wall, snoring heartily. Hearing's back, too, he thought, craning his head upward to see into the tunnels, toward the juncture. Sheppard's snores echoed up the corridors, annoying enough to keep King Kong awake.
McKay concentrated on his legs. He could almost feel them, like a mist on the breeze when you're getting near the waterfall. It troubled him. Would the nanites be able to fix the paralysis? In his head, he could hear Lumi-fog's soft humming. Gage's nanobots had had a different type of hum. Like a chainsaw. A billion of them cutting at once.
Gage? He was alarmed. "Where is he? Where?" he said, up on his elbows. "We've got to get out of here."
Sheppard jolted. "What's wrong? What is it?" He was groggy, disheveled.
"We've gotta' get out of here," said McKay. "He'll be here, I know."
"It's all right, he won't be back."
"How do you know? Where is he?"
Sheppard came to him. "Lay down, save your energy. I know, they took care of him, the little guys inside you."
McKay hesitated, then relaxed. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you later. Trust me, you have enough to deal with. Your legs any stronger?
"Numb," he said, massaging the bridge of his nose.
Sheppard tapped him on the knee. "Feel that?"
"Feel what?"
Sheppard pushed up his sleeve. "Nothing."
McKay said, "Try my other knee."
"Great. You did feel it."
"I still can't move them."
Sheppard replaced the jacket. "Give 'em time, give 'em time. You're lucky you can't feel. This floor's harder than rock."
"It is rock."
"What'd I tell ya'?"
"How'd I get here?" McKay asked. The last thing he remembered was Sheppard saying he didn't want to break in another civilian.
"The chamber gave way." He fussed with a nick on his arm. "There was another quake. We got out on express."
"Thank you," McKay said. "I didn't think I'd make it."
"I had support." Sheppard blotted the nick with his sleeve. "Team effort."
McKay watched the nanolight walls release a shimmering burst on their own. "Extra coffee for you."
...5...
After additional tedious hours and protein bar bites, McKay regained about fifty percent of the feeling in his legs. It was time to move up in the world. He put on the jacket and wrapped an arm around Sheppard's neck, was towed upright. It would be a challenging trek, up toward the Architect's chamber, eventually the way out to the surface.
They took frequent pit stops and Sheppard reminded Lumi they required water. So whenever you're ready, he told them, we'll be waiting, dry-mouthed, but don't let us take you from your work. He was exhausted, pushed himself to press on, handling much of McKay's weight, enduring his pain and his own when they hit a rugged spot, places where the quaking had caused the ceiling to break up. It was unusually difficult on narrow stairs where he had McKay rest while he cleared a suitable pathway. Each time they stopped, he had to take a deep breath and steel himself to walk on.
McKay felt guilty, a burden for not being able to walk. Frustrated, he suppressed his aches and tried not to speak to conserve energy. He told himself it was merely a matter of time and then he would literally be able to pull his own weight.
Thankfully, partway there, the Lumi-fog exited McKay and brought them water in their fabulous cloud-and-bowl serving ware, which refreshed them. After that, Lumi-fog resumed its healing project.
By the time they reached the chamber, Sheppard gratefully deposited McKay on to the platform mat and then collapsed, both silent. Before falling asleep, McKay wondered what Weir and Beckett might be speculating as to their whereabouts. They would've figured out what had happened, searching by increments with few clues to go on, thinking their friends might be irretrievably lost.
Perhaps not, it hadn't been that long...but what they'd been through since then. It seemed a very long time had gone by, and a very long time would pass before they'd get home.
...6...
When McKay woke up, the nanite fog was floating over him. He threw an arm over his face and cried out, believing they were the nanobots. No...unmistakably violet, not golden. They were taking leave to refuel, Lumi told him. McKay was at their mercy, their good will. Teeny-tiny automatons of kindness. His legs were the same, displaying an occasional independent twitch now and then, and the bullet hole remained a hole though smaller, front and back. It ached constantly. Regaining strength would take longer than rebuilding his body.
He felt frail, listless, and was alone. Sheppard had gone to the Jumper, leaving him uneasy, covered with dusty old clothes they'd found in cubbyholes. Shirts mostly, a couple of poncho-like pieces. Despite his weakness, he wanted to inspect the place. He came up on his elbows, woozy, and fell back on the clothes he'd been using for a pillow. Trying again, he sat up, wobbly. His head was spacey; shooting stars filled his vision. He surrendered, would try later. It was peaceful, the humming absent, no settling stones or Sheppard's laid-back voice. He drifted into a nap.
"What're you doing in bed? Get up!"
McKay looked up. Gage had him by the arm, squeezing until it hurt.
"You stupid son of a bitch, I'm going to kill you," he yelled. "Get up." Golden lightning fired from his mouth and drilled into McKay's pupils. He screamed.
Gage taunted him. "Weir screams like you, but that Doctor Beckett, he's a tough one. You should be ashamed you're not a real man like he is," he said. "I'll break him like I did you. Sissy!"
McKay beat the air with his fists. "Go away, go away, leave me alone, no more..."
"Wake up, stop it. It's me." Sheppard stood over him. "It's a dream. Gage is dead."
He stopped hitting, scanned the room. "Are you sure?"
"I saw him go."
McKay swayed, hands shaking. "I want to see."
"No. If you were well enough to do that I'd have you at the Jumper."
"What happened to him?"
"Lumi-fog attacked, drove him into the wall," Sheppard said. "The wall nanites swallowed him up, sealed him in it."
"They can do that? Transport organic matter?"
"Can." Sheppard picked fallen clothing off the floor. "They did it for me, got me through to get to you."
"Anything else you haven't filled me in on?" McKay asked.
Sheppard shrugged, threw the clothes on the platform and kept one scrap for himself. "A few."
"So, you didn't check, you didn't go back to the chamber, make sure Gage hadn't moved? I mean, maybe the quake jolted him out, maybe he survived somehow. The psycho 'bots could've come back and got him breathing again or...or... maybe they couldn't...couldn't hold him..."
"Rodney." Sheppard took him by the shoulders. "I didn't need to, I knew he was dead. And I had other things to do like keeping you alive."
"I want to see for myself."
"You can't walk. When you can, you're going to work with me to get that Jumper together. I'm sure you want to get out of this classy resort as much as I do." McKay's head sagged to his chest and Sheppard rescued him before he tipped off the platform. "Come on, take it easy. One thing at a time." He inspected Rodney's pupils. "There're gone."
McKay pulled up a cover, swept sand off the mat. "Refueling again."
Sheppard rose. "I'm going to need them. I can't clear out that damned rubble by myself. Not in good time. A shovel would be a miracle." He patted his stomach. "Geez I'm hungry."
Rodney could see the strain in his eyes. "I'll be ready soon."
There was a rumble; pebbles skittered from the cracks. Sheppard put his hand on the wall and leaned in, shoulders hunched. "Make it sooner."
"I didn't ask for this, no more than you did."
Sheppard straightened up, wiped his forehead. "Forget it. It's my stomach talking."
"At least you can walk," McKay said. "I'm doing the best I can."
"I said forget it." He set out for the Jumper, tossing the scrap away. "I gotta' get back."
