Nothing happened for the next three days. No spikes. No surges, no transfers, much to Radek's combined pleasure and chagrin. Things were returning to normal on the station, or as normal as possible with the Wraith threat looming. Rodney had fallen into a cycle of work and rest, a little more rest than he usually allowed himself, but it cleared his mind, helped him to think. If he dreamed, he couldn't remember.

At the moment he was in his room, on his bed, his pillow braced behind him and his laptop propped on his legs. The lab was too hectic, he couldn't concentrate on his reading. This was why he usually worked so late into the night, when everyone else had vacated the labs, and he could read and study and enjoy. But lately sleep had taken over that private time. And after being interrupted for the fifth time to adjust a power coil or double check erroneous figures, he'd had enough.

His lap was burning slightly from the heat of the computer, but he didn't care. It was soothing. It was nice. His room was quiet, he was alone, there was someone knocking on the door. . .

Dammit.

He snapped the lid shut and called out in frustration. The door opened, and Sheppard walked in, looking a bit too casual in loose pants and t-shirt. Rodney didn't bother to hide his smirk. "Well. Almost got through the whole day without you. And you had to ruin that golden opportunity at a miracle."

"I guess this means you don't want to watch a movie?" He waved a DVD at Rodney, one brow quirked invitingly.

The scientist looked tempted, but shook his head as he reopened his laptop. "Too much to do, Major. You know, a city to save and all."

"Not everyone can be Superman."

"Right, so just leave it to me, will you?" He eyed the movie curiously. "Is that what that is?"

"Magnificent Seven. Original."

"What time?"

"Bout an hour?"

"You got popcorn? That cheesy kind?"

"Of course."

"Right". His head lowered, the blue of the screen reflecting on his face. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. "See you in an hour."

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An hour passed. And another, marking Rodney as late, and sending a grumpy major to go on a search. It was possible, probable even, that Rodney simply got caught up in his work and forgot, in fact it was damned likely. He should have just hauled the man down there. Waiting outside Rodney's door proved useless, and finally he let himself in and walked in to an empty room. Okay. Maybe he'd made some sort of discovery, then, and was in his lab. But that wasn't the case.

Sheppard found Rodney by fluke. The man was crouched in a deep corner, near an unused set of living quarters, wedged in between two large stained glass windows. The night sky reflected on the floor, fracturing into pale colors and shadows, and Rodney's face was barely hidden within the darkness.

It was a perfect ghostly scene from a movie. Sheppard was afraid to move for a moment, feeling that any measure of breath would shatter the glass frame he saw before him, encapsulating the moment in clarity. It was so vivid, it frightened him.

Rodney looked up. His eyes glinted. "Major?" The voice was uncertain.

"Rodney?" The illusion was shattered, but the situation still oddly surreal. "You okay?"

There was a moment, and the darkness spoke. "I'm fine."

"Yeah. . .which is why you're sitting in a corner in a dark hallway."

Rodney's gaze fell, pinpointing a spot on the floor between them. "No," he whispered.

Sheppard took a few steps forward and knelt. The man was sweating, knotting his fingers, rocking slightly. "Rodney?" He stayed before him, waiting for an explanation.

The man didn't want to talk. Sheppard could see that. His head jerked slightly in denial, his lips moved then clamped shut, his eyes closed tightly. He continued to rock.

Sheppard sat and leaned forward, taking hold of Rodney's arm. "Talk to me." When there was no response, he gripped harder. "Dammit, I said talk to me! I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is!" Did he really just say that?

"Can't help."

"You don't know that."

"I know." He chuckled, and his brows raised with inner realization. "I'm going crazy."

"Oh, come on. . ."

"Major," Rodney's eyes snapped up to meet his, "I'm serious. I'm going nuts. There's no other possible explanation for this."

"For what? And have you considered all work and no sleep might have something to do with it?"

"I've been sleeping, major!" He choked out a sound that sounded like a sob. "I can't keep doing this. I can't do it."

Sheppard was scared for him. He didn't like it. "Dammit McKay, tell me what the hell's going on!"

He didn't want to. That was obvious. The grip tightened, and provoked a response. "I – I'm being haunted."

Sheppard released his arm. "What?"

"There's something here. On this station."

It really sounded like fatigued-induced paranoia. "Why do you say that?"

There was a hesitation, and Rodney met his eyes, looking as serious as he ever had, drilling his words home and leaving no doubt behind. "Because. . . I fell asleep when you left. And it was lying beside me when I woke. It had its arm over me."

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The power surge didn't hit the infirmary.

It hit the gateroom. Two days later.

And all Rodney could do was watch.

He could feel Weir at his shoulder and wished she would back off. He shoved Sheppard out of the way as he rounded to another laptop, back to his control panel, to another laptop. "Dammit! There's nothing to trace!"

"What do you mean there's nothing to trace?" Sheppard snapped.

"I mean exactly what I said, Major! There is nothing to trace!" His voice was strained, pulling at his neck muscles as it forced its way out. His expression was focused, angry, and his fingers flew over the console. The tension could be seen in his back, in the stiff way he spun from one panel to another, listening to catastrophic reports from the city.

Johnson was on his radio, staying out of McKay's way, reporting trouble in machine-gunned bursts of speech. "Base levels flooded, containment gone. Labs four, four A and five are dark. Infirmary has no power. . .elevators are shut down. No backups." And right as he said this, everything around them went dark.

"Shit." Sheppard's voice was low. Everything was dead silent. Flashlights started to click on, and the sounds of shuffling replaced the explosion of voices. He swung his light to the faces of his friends, catching Weir's wide-eyed disbelief, Johnson's rather pragmatic expression. Rodney, bless his stubborn heart, and still bent over the console, trying his best to find some jolt, something lingering that could be boosted to fire up the lights, if nothing else. He straightened quickly. "There's gotta be a short in the system, we need to check the generators. . ."

"Right. I'm coming with you." He turned to Weir, who was listening to Johnson. She gave him a nod of acknowledgment, and jumped as a loud grinding noise caught her attention.

Everyone turned to the stargate. It was spinning, slowly.

Rodney blinked and walked to the edge of the balcony, pulled by the sight of something that shouldn't be happening. His fingers trailed over the railing as he slowly walked to the stairs, ignoring Sheppard's question.

He watched as it circled once, twice, picking up speed. He walked faster. His name was yelled down to him, and he beamed his light up to the voice, catching Sheppard's face. "This shouldn't be happening!" he called up to him.

"Which is a good reason for you to get your ass back up here!" And the room lit in a blue frenzy.

All of the chevrons activated at once, the blue aura filling the room. The gate continued to spin, faster and faster. The grinding noise became a whirr. "Oh, no. Shut it down." Rodney glared over his shoulder at Johnson. "Shut it down!"

"How?" Johnson yelled down, his voice high with tension. "How the hell am I supposed to do that with no power? How the hell is it spinning with no power?"

That same thought had crossed Rodney's mind, rather belatedly. The ring rotated faster and faster, the lights growing bright like a maniacal amusement park ride gone wild. Rodney half expected to hear crazed laughter from a nearby clown, like in a horror film. Instead he heard Sheppard yell for an evacuation of the control room, and felt his legs take him to the base of the gate, his eyes staring widely up at the chevrons before darting around the base. If this were the earth gate, there would be a plug, okay, four giant plugs, and he could pull them from their huge outlets. . . okay, so it took three people to disengage the earth gate manually but he didn't have time for that. He lunged forward, sliding on his knees and banging into the wall before ripping off a panel close to the floor, exposing iridescent wires. People were yelling and running, and above it all he could hear his name called like the angry roar of a lion. A moment later there was a hand on his shoulder, clutching his shirt, pulling him up. His collar choked him, and he had to follow. "I said now, Rodney!"

"Dammit, Major. I almost had it!" He pushed the hands away, not sure just what he almost had, but relying on pure instinct to move his fingers beyond fear. He pressed back down to the floor, feeling Sheppard hover right over him, to the point where his knee was painfully propped on Rodney's side as he peered in. "You mind?"

"Are you done yet?" The voice was a worried growl.

"Nearly." Rodney blocked out the sound of the gate, the odd smell of, well, burnt rock would be accurate if he'd thought it possible. His fingers wrapped around the wires, pulling one out and pushing another in, following a sequence that wasn't working. . .he finally pulled the crystal, and the gate whined to a halt. The room dimmed, and once again went dark.

Rodney lay his head on the cold floor, gasping, closing his eyes. He felt a hand on his ribs, and knew that Sheppard was settling beside him, allowing his adrenaline to ebb. "Good job," he muttered.

"Yeah," Rodney said with a small sigh, "thanks."

"Are the two of you all right?" Elizabeth called down, he face lit like a ghoul by an upturned flashlight.

Sheppard gave a wave. Rodney remained still, his eyes closed.

And was forced to slowly opened them.

Sheppard angled his own light to shine on Rodney, ready to help the man stand, when he was bowled over painfully. His elbow cracked against floor, and the light jerked up into Rodney's face. "What the hell was that for?"

"Did you see it?" Rodney was looking towards the ceiling, his face white with anxiety. "It was up there, did you see it?"

"See what?"

"The face! Like in that psuedo-Atlantis. It was here, it was right over us, staring at us."

Sheppard had slowly climbed to his feet, cutting his beam through the dark. "Nothing's there, Rodney."

"No. It was there, I promise it was."

"You're mind's messing with you. It's the dark, and you're just having a flashback of sorts. There's nothing up there."

"I'm telling you. . ."

Sheppard shone his light where Rodney was looking. "See? Nothing!" This was getting damned annoying. The problem was, he wasn't sure which was more annoying, the problem itself or not being able to fix it. And then there was the power fluctuations to worry about.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right." Rodney kept eyeing the room, guided by Sheppard's hand on his arm back towards the stairs. He sounded anything but certain, but managed to put on his professional face, and return to work.