"You have got to be kidding me." Rodney circled the craft, his hands upturned in a gesture of disbelief. "This is it?"

"This is it."

"This is a soda can!"

"You were expecting the Millennium Falcon?" John hoisted himself up onto the rather unstable makeshift platform and eyed the narrow opening of the submarine.

"In a word, yes!" He pounded the sub with the side of his fist. "Are you sure this thing is sea worthy?"

John peered down. "You wanna check the tires while you're at it? It's been tested, Rodney. It's fine."

"Tested? When?"

"Uh, yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Rodney stopped short in his tracks. "What do you mean yesterday, when was this thing found?"

"Uh. . ." John made a good show of thinking back, "'bout two days ago, I think."

"Two – TWO days ago? You've known about this for two days and I'm just now hearing about it?"

"You've been busy!"

"Busy! I should've been called the moment it was found! I should've been allowed to examine it for. . .for. . ."

"For what? Zed PM's? Little green men? A bologna sandwich?"

Rodney faced John. "Now that was uncalled for."

"Look, we had a crew check it out top to bottom, Zelenka worked his magic, there's really nothing to. . ."

"Oh, so Zapatos knew about this and not me. I see then. . ."

". . .and now you get to go down in the sub! What's the problem?"

"The problem is I thought I was a part of the premier team here, the SG1 of Atlantis, so to speak. I don't think it's wise for someone to make such an important discovery that would result in leaving me so completely and utterly out of the loop!" Despite his mouth pressed into a tight, irritated line, he looked crestfallen.

John gave up his ruse. "I'm kidding, Rodney. We've had it for six hours, you haven't missed a thing. In fact, it's just now been verified as a secure craft."

"Oh." Rodney chewed the inside of his cheek. "I see, so, you were just playing with me."

"Yeah."

"Just then. That-that was all fun for you."

John laughed. "It really was!"

"I'm so glad," Rodney muttered and climbed the ladder.

Teyla and Ford were already inside, tucked in like tamales in a can. Rodney banged his head on the low ceiling and cursed. "And I thought those damn puddle jumpers were tight!"

"He's not gonna complain the whole time, is he?" Ford cast a wary eye in Sheppard's direction.

"We'll just hit the eject button."

"Eject button?" Rodney leaned in. "This thing has an eject button?"

"McKay, sit down!"

Rodney pouted and took a seat near some blinking lights he didn't understand. Oh, wait, yes he did. He leaned in closely, and started as the submarine started to move. "What's that, what's happening?"

Sheppard turned to face him slowly, patiently. "They're pulling us to the launch room. The doors will close, the room will flood, and the bottom will fall out."

"This has been tested."

Sheppard gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Yeah, sure."

Rodney was unconvinced. "When?"

"Oh, about. . .right now." The door slid shut behind them, and the room started to fill.

There was a pleasant, and hidden, fact about the submarine. It wasn't just a tin can. Nor was it a metal, suffocating tube. The submarine had huge windows, like an underwater observatory. Of course no one knew this until Rodney casually leaned on a console that activated the view, nearly sending him into Teyla's lap. He actually sat there for a moment, in shock at being so close to her, then flushed and pushed away. He jerked his hands back in a panic when he realized just what it was he pushed on, which sent all sorts of signals to the wrong places. Teyla merely looked at him, one brow raised, but not impressed, and Rodney slumped in his seat. She could at least look surprised, but her expression was flat. No, not flat, she wasn't. . .he shook the dangerous thoughts from his head as metal frames slid down to reveal a watery world of deep blue and green hues. Large, multi-colored fish swam past, eyed them curiously, and moved on. More darted in and out of the water plants nestled along the large reef that led away from Atlantis, a finger pointing to an invisible dark horizon. Ford leaned his forehead against the glass, his cap tipping backwards, and grinned like a preschooler on an aquarium trip. "I feel like Captain Nemo."

"They knew how to build a ship, alright. Smooth as Italian leather." Sheppard was immensely pleased. His hands hovered over the controls, hardly touching the surface yet acutely aware of every motion and action the ship was taking. "Handles just like the puddle jumper." He eyed the display before him. "Wow. Rate of descent, seven knots and increasing."

Molestation incident having been dismissed, Teyla leaned in over them, her dark eyes wide with wonderment, her face relaxed into a beautiful smile. "It is quite breathtaking. I wonder if this was meant as a research vessel, rather than for transportation."

"Wouldn't surprise me." John was studying the controls, eyeing the descent rate. Yep. Smooth.

Rodney had folded in on himself, trying to become one with the console. "You've gotta see this." He tapped the controls in front of him. "The way this thing works, it actually takes water into the hull. That's why the sub is trapped inside an inner layer. Remember how odd it looked when we entered? We essentially crawled through the shell and into the core. So we take on water to descend. I wonder what's being used to equalize the pressure?" He tapped the screen again.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, McKay. Right now we check this baby out, see what she can do."

Rodney turned. "This isn't one of your toy planes, Major! You can't just see what she'll do, you have to be gentle and let her do what she wants. You called her a baby, well, baby her." He smiled. "Let her crawl along the bottom of the ocean and see what she stirs up."

The others stared.

Rodney turned away.

"So anyway," John continued, "let's crank her up a bit. Slowly. And she can explore the bottom all she wants to." And he hit the yellow tab.

The submarine suddenly lurched sideways, slamming its crew against each other. Rodney bellowed as he grabbed the console, "What the hell did you just do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Oh, so I guess the submarine just decided on its own to change course without consulting you! You're tapped into the thing, for god sake, what's it doing?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't a good thing."

"Not a good thing?" McKay snapped. "Last I checked subs aren't supposed to move like that!"

"Well apparently this isn't an ordinary sub, is it?" Warning lights were starting to flash, and John was starting to sweat. "Ford?"

"I don't know, sir! We got warnings everywhere but none of 'em's telling us anything!"

"Where the hell's the comm?" John cursed and hit the panel. "Dr. Weir! This is Sheppard, do you copy?"

There was static, then a faint voice. "Major Sheppard? What's wrong, we have some strange readings up here. I thought you said everything was going smoothly?"

"Well, everything was! But I hit something I shouldn't have, now this thing's flashing all sorts of warnings and I can't make heads or tails of it. What are you reading?"

"You're veering way off course. I take it the submarine is no longer under your control?"

John checked. "Negative! All controls are locked out," he glanced at Ford and got a nod, "and we're still going down. There's no way to stop it." He winced as the radio crackled. "Say again?"

"Johnson asked about the sub pressure."

"Uh. . ." John glanced at the panel just above him, "increasing. Rapidly." He swallowed. "This display's showing a spin like someone falling from the sky." He waited. "Dr. Weir?"

"One moment." There was a hesitation, and John assumed she was checking the readings. "Keep trying to regain control of the craft. Try to steady it at least. At your rate of descent you risk blowing the hull, do you understand?"

"Rate of descent?" John glance at the monitor. It too had an odd spin to it, and was impossible to read. "Crap." How could they be falling? They were in water, he sub wasn't that big, how could they be going down so fast? They had been descending at a fairly steady rate before this happened. . .McKay voiced his thought openly.

"If we're descending so rapidly, shouldn't we be hitting bottom? The ocean's not so deep here."

"Several hundred feet down. . .waitwaitwait, look!" John leaned forward and pointed to a large dark patch beneath them.

Ford leaned out of his seat. "What is that?"

"It's an abyss." Rodney's eyes were wide. "We scanned the waters for miles, how come this never showed up?"

"Because the city's holding out on us, and we needed something to discover. I don't know!"

Rodney leaned back. "Well. This is just great. We've launched from the lost city of Atlantis into the 'Abyss'. Keep your eyes peeled for large glowing jellyfish. Come to think of it, that was a spaceship that rose from the bottom of the sea, wasn't it?"

"Will somebody shut him up?"

Rodney ignored him, leaning forward again while straining to see into the darkness. "We're headed right for that, aren't we?"

By this time John was practically standing, looking into the abyss that yawned before them. "At least we won't crash anytime soon."

Rodney blinked at him in annoyance. "For some strange reason that thought fails to comfort me."

And that was when the hull blew one deck below.

"Shit!" Ford was practically leaning into the screen before him. "Major we have a breach. . ."

"I see it!" Sheppard pushed around his chair and away from the warning light that had suddenly turned into a death beacon. "Teyla, take over! Rodney, I need oxygen, look in that gear!"

"On it!" Rodney was frantically rummaging through the small trunk they had brought aboard.

Ford knew what Sheppard was planning, and was half out of his seat. "Sir! Let me, I've been diving since I was a kid!"

Sheppard looked incredulous. "You are a kid! I need you at the helm."

"Here!" Rodney pulled out the tank, and his jubilant expression fell. "You've got to be kidding!" The tank he pulled out was hardly fit for a child. "Probably doesn't have any air, either."

John snatched it and checked the gauge. "Dammit!"

Rodney sighed comically. "No air?"

John flung it down. "Dammit!"

"No air? There's really NO AIR in that thing?"

"Shut up, McKay, and give me a hand."

"Who the hell packed this sub? Who puts in tanks with no air?" He frantically dug around in the trunk as Sheppard passed him. His clipped shoulder sent him into a spin. "Wait, are you serious? You can't go in there without air!" They stood at the door that separated them from the incoming ocean by only two small rooms.

"I'm going to try and plug the breech, you. . .no wait, Ford changed my mind, get over here!" He jabbed a finger at Rodney. "You help Teyla."

"Major. . ."

"Now, McKay!"

Rodney practically snarled in anger and turned to go, then grabbed hold of Sheppard's arm. "Listen to me. Start taking deep breaths and hold it as long as you can, fill your blood with oxygen. Check the breach. If it's beyond repair, and I bet it is, you need to close the hatch between that room and the one beside us, and find an air intake valve. Understand? That room is going to flood fast, so you'll need to remember this. Deep breaths. Fill you lungs completely. You got that?" John met his eyes for a second and nodded. Ford looked impressed, but Rodney, for once, ignored it and shouldered past. "Get him ready, I'm going to see what can be done to get this sub back under control." He took Sheppard's seat, and cursed. "What the. . .this panel's black!"

"No kidding," Sheppard muttered, and disappeared through the first hatch.

Rodney cast a worried look in Teyla's direction, then tightened as her gaze refused to leave his.

"You may as well go too. He'll need all the help he can get." She gave a quick bob of her head and pushed from her seat. This left Rodney free to talk to the controls, unimpeded, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on.

>

"Sir, I've had training off Acapulco. I took free-diving, now come on!"

"I said no, Ford, and that's my final word!" Sheppard was staring at the hatch. He really didn't want to go in there.

"Well, everything McKay said was right. Take deep breaths. Hold them. Wonder how the hell he knew that?"

"Some people are just smart."

"Don't ever say that in front of him, sir."

"Don't worry." He glanced at Ford. "You ready?"

"Me? What about you? I just gotta stand here!"

"Yeah. . .right. Okay." He rolled his shoulders and inhaled deeply though his nose.

"Big breaths, sir."

Sheppard eyed him and started inhaling powerfully. Teyla joined them, her anxiety nearly hidden by her usual calm, but Ford could see the tension in her posture.

"Is he ready," she asked softly. Her answer was a nod from Ford, and the hatch opened.

Sheppard wasn't happy. What's more, he knew what he was attempting was stupid. He hurried into the next room as the hatch closed behind him, and activated the side control. He could hear the water rushing in, see it churning below him, watch it rise. Great. He slid down the ladder, trying in the back of his mind to remember if he'd seen a single ladder in the whole of Atlantis before today. As the frigid waters iced his body, he couldn't stop from yelping. "Christ!" He fingered the radio he still wore from Atlantis. "McKay, I'm here! The breach is in the level below us. It's too large, the water's coming in too fast! We need to just seal off the room! McKay?"

There was a burst of static before a frantic voice replied, "Do it then! And get the hell outta there!"

"Don't have to tell me twice." He had turned to go back up the rungs when the sub suddenly jolted, hurling him into the waters below. The cold stiffened his body, rendering him useless, and several painful moments passed before he was able to grip the ladder. But by this time he was floating up through the hatch, and water was pooling into the room above. On the other side of that closed door was Ford, and two doors past that, the bridge. The room was filling fast. He tried to secure the hatch to the room below him, but nothing happened. A control, there had to be a control somewhere. . .the water was rising. He couldn't find a damn thing. They would have to seal off that room as well, and hope somehow they could stop their descent. "Ford! Open up!"

"Sir!" The voice was faint through the bulkhead.

John ran his fingers over the panel, but nothing happened. "Try your end!" He eyed the water rushing into the room from below, jetting up like a fountain releasing pressure. "Come on, open up!"

"We're trying, sir!"

"Trying? What do you mean, trying?" He made a conscious effort not to pound his fist through the door, and cued his comm, hoping it remained as waterproof as it was supposed to. "McKay!"

"What?"

"I can't get out, the door's jammed!"

"What do you mean it's jammed?"

"Dammit McKay, see if there's some kind of override!"

He could picture the concern on McKay's face. "Won't that flood the whole sub?"

"MCKAY!"

"Okay, okay!"

Rodney, two rooms over, started his search. He slipped and fell against the bulkhead, jumping as the ship jarred. "What the. . .shit!" Rodney drew his hands back then braced himself as the sub rocked sickeningly. "Subs are NOT supposed to do this!" he yelled to no one, and launched toward the control panel. The few lights that had come back on blinked at him mockingly, daring him to pick the correct sequence. "Okayokay, manual override, manual override, manual override. . .shit!"

"Rodney!"

"I'm working on it!" Okay McKay, breathe. Think. Thrust is there, shift, aft. . .dammit!

"Rodney?"

"Just gimme a minute! I was too busy saving the world the day they taught sub tech classes, okay?" Okay. Not this panel. Stupid, why not this panel, wouldn't it make sense to just. . .nonononono okay here then. . ."

"McKay! What the hell did you just do?"

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Rod. . ."

"I got it I got it I got it! Hold your breath and duck!"

"What?"

"Just do it! Trust me, I got this!"

"So help me, McKay. . ."

"Now! Go!" He lifted a lid, and threw a tiny lever.

>

"Now! Go!"

John Sheppard, staunch man of the air, held his breath and submitted to the pull of the water. Everything stilled around him, not bad really, rather peaceful. He heard a faint gurgling sound, and reached upwards, feeling for the ceiling. There it was, half a foot over his submerged head, and there was no air. The water was up, he was through the hatch, and could go no further. That made him wonder vaguely what would happen to the water that was trying to rush in. Would it find another way into the sub? Burst through the hull elsewhere? Maybe it would get shoved back out to sea, where it would stop the water flowing in and plug itself. Sure, John. Keep on thinking that. His lungs were starting to burn, his body was aware that he hadn't taken a needed breath and was giving him painful reminders. A thick band formed around his chest, and his body fell into tight rebellion. Hell, he wasn't really a diver. Barely passed that part of the qualification. . .god. . .he needed to take a breath. Don't think that, John. For the moment, no breathing allowed. He felt around the hull, praying for anything that held air, a tube, anything. Intake valve, what the hell had Rodney been thinking? There was nothing. Dammit McKay! Trust you? Panic was setting in as he forced himself not to take a breath, but it was like holding back a bull. His body jerked, his head felt numb. His neck ached, and he held his hands over his nose and mouth. No sucking water. Sucking water not allowed. What a way to go, goddammit, MCKAY!

He felt his body lurch sideways, and allowed it, for the water was suddenly traveling. His head banged against something hard and he was flushed out of the compartment, slamming into a wall and getting a face full of gushing spray. He sputtered, coughed, gagged, trying to catch a much needed breath, but the liquid just wouldn't subside. He was still drowning; he could feel the sting in his lungs and the lack of air reaching them, felt the unresponsiveness of his limbs from the cold shock. There was a yell and a strong grip on his arm, and he grabbed it, clung to it, prayed to it, would have had sex with it if it could just get him the fuck out of there. His name was called, and repeated, but he couldn't answer, but was aware of his body being dragged, bumping over something hard, and heard yells to seal the hatch. He rolled over, aggressively vomiting the water that had been forced into his system. Hands clutched the back of his shirt, then his shoulders.

"Easy, sir! It's okay, you're safe. Everything's okay, just relax, breathe." The voice hovered before him, and he still felt a grip that refused to let go. John turned his head. "Ford?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I could kiss you."

"I don't think so, Sir. But thanks anyway."

John nodded, still gasping for air, and let his body go limp. The other presence settled beside him and rubbed his back and shoulders gently, then helped pull him to his knees, still leaning him over as he gulped cubic pounds of cherished air. "Teyla," he choked.

"I'm here."

"Didn't work. . ."

"We will find another way."

"Couldn't. . .I couldn't find the control. Couldn't find anything, then the door jammed. . ."

"I know."

"T-tell the truth, it scared me."

"It scared us as well." But she sounded so damn calm.

Rodney's voice sounded over their radios, panicked and irritated. "Teyla! Ford. . .come in! Didn't it work?"

"It did, Dr. McKay, he is back with us. You did well," Teyla affirmed.

"Oh, thank god," they heard him breathe, "Thank god. I was running out of ideas."

"I'm fine, Rodney, thanks for asking," John groused, though he knew Rodney's relief wasn't due only to his achievement.

"Don't mention it," McKay replied over the radio, and Teyla grinned.

Rodney was frantically punching buttons and passing his hands over the odd controls when the rescuers and rescuee returned to the bridge. He did give John a good up and down glance, confirming with his own eyes that he did something right, and grimaced as he stood and walked to the opposite chair. "Since the breach was unable to seal on the lower deck, this inevitably means one of two things will happen." He paused for dramatic effect and spun his chair to face the others.

"Well?" John pressed, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Well, we're still gaining water, and there's nothing we can do about it. So one, we sink like a brick. . . or. . ."

John shivered, his long arms wrapped around himself. "Or?"

"Or we float like one."

"Great." John sighed and looked at the lit console before him. They were definitely plummeting. Outside, the abyss swallowed them whole. "No radio contact yet?"

"Negative." Ford was back at this station. "Not at this depth; best we can do is try to ping and see if we can get their attention back on Atlantis."

"Ping? Does this thing have a ping?"

Ford shrugged.

"Okay. This is ancient technology. I can use ancient technology. I should be able to get us out of this, right?" John sat and stared at the panel before him, feeling McKay at his shoulder.

"Oh sure, go for it. With any luck your genetics and this superior Ancient technology can be combined to achieve a purpose other than running a coffee machine!"

Sheppard turned. "It was damn good coffee, and we needed it!"

"It was sediment from an oil can!"

"McKay, some constructive information would be helpful right about now."

"Okay, fine, how's this for constructive?" He leaned in. "You have eight minutes to work your miracle. This wonderfully advanced hull integrity just blew to hell, the lower level's completely flooded, and the hatch separating us from certain death is less than seven inches thick. It isn't going to withstand the pressure forced upon it at this depth, so either get that magic going, or we're dead!"

"Yeahokay, that helped, thanks." John stared wide-eyed at the console. And waited. For a while. Continued to. . ."Okay. . .got a whole lot of nothing going on here. . ."

"Even if you could get this thing operational, you can't get us to the surface. The change in pressure would just cause more ruptures. This thing's too heavy to withstand that." There was a note of finality in McKay's voice, making John turn and look at him. The face that looked back was frighteningly calm. He had already prepared himself, and the fear in his eyes showed it wasn't an easy task.

"We're not dead yet." John turned back to the panel. "How rapid is our descent?

"There's no way to tell. Care to stick your head out and see? Or should I just pop out there and push us to the surface?"

"Don't tempt me."

"Sir, we've gotta touch bottom soon at this point," Ford said. He glanced at the depth meter, then charted their path. "We're not falling straight down either."

"No, of course not," Rodney muttered, "there would be some sort of current, even this deep, created by our descent if nothing else, plus this is a mass going through a mass, therefore. . ."

"Will you shut up!"

"Fine." Rodney turned away.

"Okay. Going at an angle, pitch. . .here. Look, look at this." He pointed to the lit screen before him. "There's something here."

"What?" Rodney returned and looked over John's shoulder. Teyla and Ford did the same.

"Yeah, yeah, see? What do you make of that?"

"That looks. . .too organized to be a natural structure." Rodney leaned closer. "Oh my god. . ."

"Yeah, that's what I think too. Give or take four minutes. . .and we'll crash right into it."

The team exchanged looks of apprehension. Then everyone started talking at once, their voices overlapping each other.

"Anyone got a stopwatch?"

"If we crash, do you think it'll flood the city?"

"Maybe they have some kind of failsafe, to be this deep. . ."

"We need to try and reinforce the hull. . ."

"With what? Band-Aids?"

"I don't know!"

"Major!" Teyla pointed. There was a blip of light on the screen.

"What the. . ." John turned as all hell broke loose.

The water was frigid. His extremities instantly numbed. He heard McKay cry out as he smashed back against the console, then fell under. John forced his way to the man's side and pulled him upright, watching as he gasped for his last few breaths. Rodney gave him a grateful look, a steady look, one that would live with him, if he were to live. . .he saw Teyla holding on to Ford, who looked frantic but tried not to show it. . .the hull creaked, his ears popped, and everything disappeared.