WINTER WONDERLAND
By NotTasha
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CHAPTER 21: BUS DRIVERS

Sheppard held the device that McKay had cobbled together. The work had a haphazard look to it – delicate wires ran from one radio to another, seemingly stuck randomly into the scanner. It looked like junk, but if McKay said he'd increased the transmission power of the device ten-fold, then Sheppard was pretty damn sure they were reaching someone.

"Ford, I know you can't contact us, but I figure you're working on something. We're tucked in a depression under a ledge, against the cliff. We're fairly protected for whatever you got planned. 'Fraid I couldn't describe exactly where we are along the cliff. I'm thinkin' it looks awful different out there now. You have to get it in gear, now."

Glancing to one side, he took in McKay's appearance. Now that the radio-work was completed, Rodney had lost whatever spark had found him, and he leaned heavily on the major. His eyes were closed and he was shivering again.

"Rodney," he called softly, wiggling a shoulder, hoping for a response. McKay just sunk further against him. "Rodney?" he called more urgently, patting him on the head, being careful of the bloody spot on the fleecy hat.

Sheppard spoke into the radio again. "You have to get us out of here – now. McKay needs assistance. He's not responding to me anymore. I…."

"M'wake," a voice sounded softly beside him.

Making an annoyed face at being proven wrong, Sheppard amended the last transmission with, "He's not responding 'much'."

"Tell them to hurry," McKay said quietly, not lifting his head.

"Just hang on a bit longer," John stated, after he'd muted the mic, but leaving the radio in transmitting mode. He settled the melded devices on his lap. "How're you doing?"

Rodney gave him a languid look. "Not bad," he finally responded resignedly.

When Sheppard gave him a baffled look, McKay shrugged. "Not feeling much anymore." He seemed apologetic for his statement. "It'll take them hours to dig us out."

"They'll get us out," Sheppard insisted.

"It'll be too late for me," McKay said sulkily.

"Well, I'm planning to survive this," Sheppard snipped back at him. "So you better keep me awake until then."

McKay sighed.

"I got no jacket," Sheppard said, gesturing with a gloved hand – somehow he'd ended up with them again since McKay needed his hands to work, and hadn't wanted them when he was done. "And I'm cold as hell. I don't want to fall asleep, so you'd better try to keep me awake until they get here."

His arms tucked up around him, McKay sighed, looking at the white jacket that encircled their legs. The space was all white, John realized -- white and red, with a touch of blue for McKay's hat.

Shivering still, McKay seemed to be thinking of something, maybe even about telling Sheppard to take the jacket back, but his expression remained fixed, and he said nothing.

"Come on, talk to me," Sheppard demanded.

McKay grimaced, and then said, "I don't hate dogs. I've liked some. It's just that they're needy and I really don't have anything to give. Cats don't expect much. We get along better."

"I don't like those itnas either. You got no argument from me with that. They're not really dogs, you know. More like hyenas."

"Can't trust dogs," McKay mumbled. "Just can't…They make you think you can trust them, and then they just leave you and …" His head dipped.

"Hey," Sheppard jerked his shoulder, getting McKay to open his eyes again. "Hey! Don't let me fall asleep. Tell me… what did you want to be when you grew up?"

McKay snorted, so Sheppard went on, "I mean, when you were a kid. What did you dream of being? A fireman ... a lumberjack, maybe?"

"Let me guess," McKay said thickly. "You wanted to be a pilot."

"Well, yeah. But for a while, what I really wanted to be was a bus driver!" Sheppard said brightly, huddling close to McKay. "I remember riding the school bus – I must have been in the first grade – watching the man drive that big ol' thing – Mr. Johnston! I thought that must have been the coolest job. There he was, driving the biggest vehicle on the street, with that huge steering wheel and that lever thing that opened the door. He'd stick out that stop sign thing and all the traffic came to a halt. He was in charge. It seemed like real power to me."

"A bus driver? Just a bus driver?"

"'Just'? How can you say, 'just'? He was driving! And you know, I didn't want to be just any bus driver. I wanted to be… the Head of the Bus Drivers!"

Rodney snickered quietly.

"Sometimes, he drove with a doughnut in one hand. I liked doughnuts," John went on.

"Hard not to," Rodney agreed.

"Don't know why I was fascinated with his job. Maybe I realized, even as a kid, that he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. I thought he was cool." He gave McKay a sideways glance as he added, "But I did eat paste back then, so my judgment may have been impaired." He waited for a jibe in response.

Instead, McKay said quietly, "I never rode the school bus."

"Don't they have them in Canada?" Sheppard returned.

"Of course they have school busses in Canada," Rodney sniped. "What do you think we have there? Dog sleds and igloos." And he narrowed his eyes at their icy surroundings.

"Pretty much – that and Mounties. You got beavers and moose and lots of trees, too, dontcha ya, eh?"

McKay grumbled.

"And everyone's so polite."

"Bite me," McKay snapped back.

"Have I ever told you that a moose once bit my sister?" Sheppard asked. For that he got a soft chuckle from his friend, who just stared forward. John expected a further response, but after not receiving one, he continued, "So, you never rode the bus?"

Rodney shrugged, his shoulder digging into John. Trying to get comfortable, Sheppard pulled his arm out from between them and draped it over McKay's shoulder.

Rodney gave him a look, and sighed again. "I attended advanced classes at a school for gifted children. Mother drove me. It was a long, inconvenient drive, okay? Everyone else in the neighborhood rode the bus." He let out a breath. "And I used to be so envious of them – not stuck in that car." He took another deep breath. "Don't get me wrong. I belonged in the advanced schools – but sometimes I just wanted…" He paused.

Sheppard thought he heard something, a high whine, muffled in the snow. He listened to it as McKay said nothing more, just shivering beside him. The sound was intense, and he couldn't quite place what caused it. Realizing that the conversation had stopped, John asked, "You just wanted to be like everyone else?"

"No," was McKay's response after a moment. "When you have a mind as able as mine, how could I possibly demean myself to the level of normal students? It would have been a travesty if I were to be treated 'just like everyone else'." His voice became weaker, as he added, "It would have been a waste."

"But sometimes," Sheppard stated. "It might have been nice."

Whispering, McKay stated, "But I had a responsibility, to take advantage of my gift." He went on, his words coming with difficulty, "You asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up? I had two dreams. One – a pianist." He shrugged again. "But that was ridiculous. The other – what I truly wanted to be? Can you guess?"

"Not the Head of the Bus Drivers?" Sheppard tried gamely.

"I wanted to be an astrophysicist." McKay laughed softly – hardly more than a 'huff'. "Even as a child, science and mathematics sparked something in me." He drew in another deep breath as he continued to shiver. "I knew my path as soon as I found out about the wonders of – physics. I patterned my entire academic career to be exactly what I am now." He tightened his arms around his chest.

"What was it about physics that drew you?"

Closing his eyes, Rodney furrowed his brow. "I wanted to do something big. To… change the world -- to change worlds – for the better of course. I wanted to make it – better." His words were becoming slurred.

"That's a mighty big bus," Sheppard said.

"I've always loved the stars," Rodney whispered.

"Yeah? Me, too," Sheppard respond, and they were quiet a moment. Finally, Sheppard asked, "So… you ever play the piano?"

"Didn't work out," Rodney returned softly, his voice quiet. "I knew my path and I followed it to this point in my life." The corners of his mouth turned down as his gaze continued to focus on the white wall. "And this is how it ends."

The whine seemed to be louder. "Hang on," Sheppard stated, distracted by the sound.

"It's been nice …" Rodney's voice drifted to almost nothing, becoming fuzzy and nearly unintelligible. "It's been nice knowing…"

"Shhh!" The sound was so strange – yet so familiar. Sheppard clicked off the light on the P90, leaving them in that soft blue light again – but the light had changed, hadn't it? It had been so faint earlier – so faint they could barely see. Now, he could easily make out everything in their space. "Hang on," Sheppard said again, smiling. "They're coming. They're getting us out. Hey, Rodney…"

Beside him, Rodney blinked his eyes wearily, then rested his head against John's shoulder. His eyes closed, and he said nothing more.

A/N: Poor cold woobies

TBC