WINTER WONDERLAND
By NotTasha
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CHAPTER 19: DAFFODILS AND SUNSHINE

"Okay, okay," Sheppard stated, pulling himself out of the cave that he'd dug around McKay's legs. As far as he could tell, nothing further had happened to the senseless extremities. There was something terribly odd about digging around those legs, knocking into them from time to time, and knowing that McKay felt nothing.

"How are you doing?" he asked as he squirmed out.

"Fine…"

"Well, it's going to get better," Sheppard promised. "Soon as we get you out of this." He brushed at his shoulders as he retracted. "I got your legs freed up. We just have to get you …" he paused as he noted McKay's pained expression.

Rodney had been leaning against that icy wall, bare hands clenching at the nodules of snow, clinging to keep himself upright. He breathed harshly with the effort. Crap!

"Hang on," Sheppard stated.

"It's what I've been doing for the past ten minutes!" McKay growled through his teeth.

"It hasn't been that long," Sheppard shot back, getting one arm across McKay's back and wrapping the other around his waist. "I'm gonna ease you back a bit, okay? There's not a whole lot of room, but once we get you sideways and on your back…"

"No… no, I want to sit up," McKay insisted. "Can't you just lean me against the wall over there."

"Beckett would kill me," Sheppard responded.

"Well, he's already going to do that anyway because you yanked me in here," McKay shot back, closing his eyes for a moment after his outburst. He drew in a shuddering breath and continued, "I want to be able to see what's going on."

"There's nothing to see. We're in a little hole," Sheppard responded.

"With hardly any air," McKay added. His eyes darted about. "How much air do you figure we have in here? It's really tight in here. Have I ever mention I have a ... tiny bit of... claustrophobia..."

Trying to divert the conversation, Sheppard responded, "I'm going to get you moved back a bit. Let me do the work, okay?"

"Sure, sure," McKay responded, his eyes still searching.

Getting started, John pulled the hood away from McKay's head to get it out of the way. He grimaced, seeing the dark stain across the back of the otherwise blue fleece cap. The inside of the white hood was spotted with red. Damn it… He balled up the hood and shoved it into his pocket. Should he take off the hat, see what he could do for the wound under it? Damn it! He had nothing to form a bandage. The tight fitting cap seemed to be doing the job for now. With a grimace, he decided to leave it alone -- keep an eye on things and ensure the bleeding didn't get worse.

"Ready?" Sheppard asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Sheppard took a moment to swipe the snow out of the way, getting down to the rock bottom of the depression. Then, he leaned Rodney back and worked to move him as smoothly as possible. As he manipulated McKay's legs, getting them out of the hole and moving them into a better position, Rodney watched him – saying nothing. Finally, John had him edged back those few inches and turned, his back was against the rocky wall.

"Better?" John asked, brushing at the snow that coated the physicist's legs.

Rodney's gaze followed the movements, his face pale. "I still can't feel anything," he said softly. "Guess it won't matter now. I mean, if the cold doesn't get us, we'll run out of oxygen soon enough. Is it getting smaller in here? The walls aren't moving, are they?"

"Nothing's moving, McKay." Sheppard sighed and pulled the balled up hood from his pocket, to use it as a cushion for Rodney's head. He hoped McKay wasn't too badly hurt – yeah, he thought, define 'badly.'

John sat beside the Canadian in the cramped space, hip to hip. "Actually, I'm not so cold now," he declared as he pulled off his gloves and started to rub at McKay's legs – first one, then the other.

"What are you doing?" McKay asked, watching the movements.

Sheppard continued the work, vigorously rubbing. "Just trying to make sure you still have blood moving," he said lightly as he faced the man.

"Oh," McKay responded, watching with eyes that seemed unusually blue.

"Figure this is what it's like in an igloo, huh? Always thought Eskimos were freezing their butts off inside those things, but it's warming up a little."

"Warm… yeah… warm," McKay muttered, finally taking his gaze off of Sheppard's work to blow on his hands. He moved his fingers with a doleful expression. Finally, he shoved his hands under his armpits. "How much air do you think we have?"

"Plenty," Sheppard responded.

"Nothing's moving, is it?" McKay asked uncomfortably as he eyed the closed in space. "I mean the walls... they seem to be..."

"It's all in your banged up head." Sitting back, John hoped he'd managed to accomplish something for Rodney. He knew that skin-to-skin contact was the best way to heat up someone suffering from hypothermia, but he hoped it didn't come to that. The red parka really did seem to be doing its job and he didn't want to try removing it just yet. "You want these back?" he asked, holding up the gloves.

McKay shook his head, wincing again at the movement.

"Keep still," Sheppard said softly. He pulled his jacket off next, and wrapped it around both Rodney's legs and his own. He tried not to gasp as the cold caught him. There was no breeze here, and it was decidedly less frigid than 'outdoors', but it was hardly warm.

McKay watched his movements with a disconnected expression. "What good will that do?" he asked softly. "I'm not feeling anything and you're going to freeze."

"Ah, I'm not cold," Sheppard responded. "I don't get cold. I can be in a room full of people who are bitching about how cold they are, and I'll be toasty warm," he stated, trying not to let his teeth chatter. "I'm feeling better already. And, hell, I'm just covering my own ass," he said, cocking his head. "Well, not literally." He worked more of the snow out from under them, hoping it would help their situation. "Beckett will have one less reason to skin me alive if I at least try to keep you warm."

Keeping his gaze on his covered legs, Rodney rested, looking lost.

"They're going to get us out," Sheppard said, grabbing his radio and fiddling with it. "Ford is going to get these morons in gear. Teyla's going to get help from Atlantis."

"When?" McKay responded, shuddering. "Because we're about an hour from the Gate. It'll take that long for someone to get back to her to tell her what happened. And then she needs to dial Atlantis. And someone's going to have to approve a rescue mission. We probably have to wait at least an hour, and a half and by that time, we'll certainly suffocate, or freeze, or I'll just have seizure and die from my injuries."

"You're just full of daffodils and sunshine, aren't you?' Sheppard stated tersely.

"Humph," McKay responded, tightened his arms over his chest and nestling his head into the cushion.

Sheppard tried the radio, not receiving a response. He groaned as he listened to static.

"It won't work," McKay stated, looking at him through hooded eyes. "The geology has remarkable magnetic properties. We won't be able to contact anyone, especially with us so close to…" and he withdrew one hand from his armpit to gesture to the rock wall.

"So, what do we do?" Sheppard asked, holding out his radio. "I mean, you're not going to let that stop us."

McKay glared at him a moment, then dropped his glance to the radio.

"Come on, Answer Man," Sheppard encouraged. "You love a challenge."

McKay stared at the device for a long moment, then his face seemed to grow longer, his expression changing, becoming softer as his mind worked.

Sheppard smiled, loving that expression.

Suddenly, McKay reached out one arm, snatching Sheppard's radio "I need my radio, too. I think it fell inside my coat. And the scanner. It's in my pocket, can you grab it for me? And my tools. They're in there, too." He smiled arrogantly as he held the radio. "Just give me a minute," he declared.

Sheppard sat back, grinning.

A/N: See! Things will get better.