Stuck!

A/N: This posting shall be short! I am nearly at the sacred Corn Palace, but have run out of gas. I have paused to refill at a convenient convenience station, and have found yet another coffee restaurant of the same motif. The skinny slackers in green aprons are beginning to irritate me. But, they have internet connection and macchiatos, so I cannot find offence. I have but a moment to post and to continue my search for my beloved Julie.

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Chapter Eighteen: The Return From Neverland

And then the room went dark—absolutely black. Sheppard found himself pressed with his back against the wall and he reached out in the darkness, wanting to find Rodney's bed, but clasped onto Ronon.

"Sheppard?" the former runner growled.

"Yeah," John responded, not knowing if Ronon was simply verifying who had touched him—or if the snarled name had been a warning. He released the man and reached forward, trying to find the beds. "McKay?" he called. "Teyla?"

"A moment please," Zelenka announced and there was a click. The portable lights came back on—filling the space with their illumination. It was all too bright.

The first thing Sheppard managed to make out was Ronon, still beside him, holding a stuffed kitty against his stomach. They blinked, trying to clear their vision as Beckett muttered, "Bloody hell," from somewhere in front of them.

Stumbling, Sheppard pressed himself forward, nearly colliding with Zelenka who was moving in the same general direction. Blinking away the spots that flooded his vision, Sheppard grasped Rodney's bed frame. He squinted, willing himself to see. Around him, people were shouting, staggering around the room.

There was something terribly dreamlike about all of it—everyone moved in a filtered, fuzzy world.

First, he saw the bed, and the heap under the blankets. Sheppard willed his eyes to focus, to differentiate—and he made out the features on the face, the form, the size of the lump beneath the covers—Rodney—Dr. Rodney McKay—5'10" tall—37 years old with a stubbled face—genius—sleeping like a baby.

Quickly changing his gaze, Sheppard took in the other bed, finding Teyla—young and vital again —her face unmarred by age. She was blinking at the ceiling and then pivoted her gaze—first seeing Carson who leaned over her, chattering away, trying to get her to answer questions. She looked around, catching John's eye. Her smile increased.

Sheppard found himself smiling back—relief flooded him until he almost needed to sit down, holding onto the bed frame like a life preserver. Thank God, he thought. Oh Thank God!

Apparently satisfied with what he found at Teyla's bed, Beckett switched sides, laying a hand at Rodney's neck to feel his pulse. The man didn't stir. Beckett didn't seem happy with that response. "Rodney," he said softly. "Rodney, can you hear me?" Nothing. Rubbing one hand at his forehead, the Scotsman anxiously called, "Come on, lad. Be a good boy and open your eyes for me."

McKay made a disgusted snort and grimaced. Wearily, warily, he cracked open one eye and served Carson a cold glare. "If I hear one more 'be a good boy', I won't be responsible for what I do to each and every one of you."

Beckett let out a long sigh, releasing his pent up worry. "Now, Rodney, no need for that. We've all been plenty worried about you," he chided. "You and Teyla gave us quite a scare."

Rodney grimaced, then looked about—his expressive face showing off all his anxiousness. "Teyla?" he called, trying to sit up.

"I am here," the Athosian responded instantly, her voice rich and strong. Ronon had come to her bedside and helped her as she forced herself into a sitting position. A proud look came to her as she managed the task with little help. One could almost feel the satisfaction rolling off of her, as she sat, regal and strong (with only a slight tremble) at the edge of the bed. When Ronon rested one hand on her shoulder, she covered it with her own. "I am well." And she smiled.

The worry left Rodney as he met her eyes. Something was exchanged between them—an understanding—a sense of utter relief. He blew out a breath. "Good… good… because…" He flopped back down on the bed, twirling one hand about. "… I've been concerned." He finished. "Glad to hear you're okay and… not so old."

Her smile was warm as she leaned slightly on Ronon, and responded, "And I am glad to see you back to normal, Dr. McKay."

"Yeah, well, it's good to be me," Rodney replied with a self-satisfied smile.

"Guess someone's gotta," Sheppard replied with a snap. "No one else would want the job."

"I'm sure there are plenty who'd like to be me," Rodney answered quickly. "I am a genius after all."

"Yeah, but look at the package?" Sheppard countered. "Think someone would really want to exchange what they got for the genius – plus the rest of you?"

"Oh, thank you very much!" Rodney snarled.

"You're welcome," John responded smugly, not even caring what was being said, just pleased to be chatting with an adult McKay again. "Glad to know that you've grown up and learned some manners."

"Oh!" McKay started, and seemed annoyed that he couldn't come up with a comeback. "Fine, just fine!" he grumbled. "Now, if you'd just leave me alone." And he wrapped himself even tighter. A thought seemed to strike him, and his expression changed from anger to confusion as he messed with the blue blanket—which suddenly seemed much smaller. Finally, the look changed to utter mortification as he muttered, "Oh God, I'm naked under here." He scrunched closed his eyes, as if to blot his audience out, as he tugged at the back of the blanket to ensure he was covered.

"Come on, McKay, don't be shy," Sheppard shot back. "Why don't you jump up and give us a show."

"Yes," Zelenka added. "It would be amusing."

McKay winced, revealing that perhaps he wasn't quite over his headache. "No way in hell," he growled though his teeth. "Why don't you all just toddle off and find someone else to torment."

"Nope," Sheppard responded, making the word pop as he spoke it.

Rodney could only sigh miserably and turn his back on them. "This is not happening… this is not happening," he chanted softly to himself.

Sure as hell better be happening, Sheppard thought in return, just pleased as punch to hear the snarky responses.

The affects of his ordeal had McKay in its clutches and he didn't last long. His eyes closed and he was dozing again almost instantly. It took a lot out of a person to age from childhood to middle age in an instant.

Sheppard found himself grinning—grinning from ear to ear. "Looks like things are back to normal," Sheppard stated.

"Aye, it is," Beckett replied, too shaken up to appear as happy as the others—but he did smile when he looked up and noticed Ronon still clutching the stuffed yellow kitty toy, holding it carefully to his body as if it were real.

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A/N: There will be two more chapters, but I cannot remain here a moment longer. Julie! She is almost with me! Julie? Julie? The Corn Palace! I can see it in the distance. I can smell corn nuts... I hear the clatter of cloven hooves on pavement! Is that mooing? Quick! Send more reviews! Only the reviews will reveal her to me!