Long Strange Trip
Chapter 2
Radek Zelenka blinked his eyes. He leaned in closer to the computer screen, adjusting his glasses. For a moment, it seemed as though the four members of SGA-1 had….disappeared. But, no, there they were, little glowing blips on the monitor. Still, they didn't seem to be moving – at all.
As per Dr. McKay's request, Radek was keeping a close eye on the Atlantis power systems. After the scare of this morning, Rodney wanted to have someone respond immediately should the computers again go a little wonky. Radek had complied, and, so far, everything seemed to be fine. Except – no, the team still hadn't moved, and, there – a power drop - suddenly, the alarms started screeching, and Dr. Weir shot out of her office.
"Dr. Zelenka?" Her voice was sharp, her eyes bright and worried. Once more, the Czech scientist found himself pounding on the keyboard, frantically trying to regain control of the city. Only this time, he was alone, and didn't have the guidance of McKay. Sweat streaming down his face, he ignored Elizabeth's question, trying to reroute the systems, and prevent a complete shutdown.
Elizabeth resisted peering over Zelenka's shoulder, and instead keyed her headset. She grabbed at the railing as the city shivered and twisted.
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Dr. Weir. Please report." Nothing but static answered her plea. From the corner of her eye she could see Colonel Caldwell, the commander of the Daedelus, rush across the floor, his face concerned. Once more, she tried to raise SGA-1 on the radio, but only received the hiss and whine of static.
"Dr. Weir, what's going on?" Caldwell barked, and she shot him a desperate look. Rather than answer, she grabbed the back of Zelenka's chair, waiting for the scientist to reassure her that they still maintained control of Atlantis. The floors shifted and buckled as the city started succumbing to the ocean's currents and Dr. Weir was knocked off her feet, slamming her head on the railing. She gasped for breath, vaguely hearing Caldwell call for medical assistance. As darkness closed in, she could hear the sirens wail.
oOo
John groaned. Man, his head ached. He lay still, aware that he was draped on a bed or something, and that it was quiet. Too quiet. 'Must be in the infirmary,' he thought to himself, and suppressed a grimace. Dr. Beckett was sure to give him yet another lecture on leaping into dangerous situations.
He opened his eyes. "McKay?" he croaked, then, using his elbows as leverage, raised himself up off of the bed. And his eyes widened.
Bars. A small metal cot. A wash basin and a toilet stationed in the corner. He was in a cell. Specifically, the cells found on Atlantis, used to house Steve the Wraith so many months ago. John sat up hurriedly, swinging his legs to the floor. As nausea and dizziness threatened, he grabbed the sides of the cot, closing his eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" he rasped. He raised his hands to his head, trying to keep the pounding down to a low rumble.
"Well, it's about time that you rejoined the living." A familiar teasing voice flowed across the room, and John froze. Immediately, his hands went for his weapon, and found nothing. Of course not, he was in a jail cell; they wouldn't leave him access to his weapons.
John looked up, disbelief in his eyes. Standing next to the bars of the cell, a smile on his face, was Lieutenant Aidan Ford. He looked whole and healthy, without any sign of infection from the Wraith.
"Ford?" he asked incredulously. Aidan nodded, then gave John a serious look.
"Boy, are you ever in deep trouble, Major," the Lieutenant advised.
John merely shook his head, stifling a groan as the motion caused another surge of nausea. "You don't know the half of it," he muttered.
oOo
Specialist Ronon Dex was confused, but apparently, he didn't have time for that at the moment. He spun quickly, avoiding the female Wraith that snarled and lunged at him, her face promising death. He ducked, backpedaled and nearly tripped over a root. He grabbed at his side for his P-90, only to find that somehow, he had misplaced his weapon.
'Great,' he thought, running quickly towards a half-dead tree. With a quick snap, he broke a branch, and turned, holding it up as he watched the female circle him. A small sound caused Ronon to whirl to his right, only to see another Wraith, this one a male and absolutely huge, raising his weapon.
Ronon, gunless and bewildered, barely moved out of the way as the Wraith took aim and fired his weapon. He rolled to the ground as the shot zinged above his head, losing his makeshift weapon in the process. Almost immediately, the female Wraith was attacking him, her fists and feet pounding on his body. Ronon fought back, managing to hurl the female from him, but another shot from the male Wraith's gun nearly hit it's mark. Ronon looked about him wildly, seeking escape, but the Wraiths had him backed into a corner.
Suddenly, another human entered the fray, yanking the female Wraith backwards, and with a quick motion, cut her throat. As the male Wraith yelled his outrage, distracted by actions of this other human, Ronon launched himself forward, tackling him and bringing him to the ground.
They tumbled and rolled against the hard rocks, each struggling to grab at the Wraith's weapon. Finally, Ronon threw the Wraith off, and scrambled backwards, his hands searching for the discarded weapon. The Wraith, unbelievably fast, leapt to his feet, and ran straight at Ronon, murder in his eyes.
There was a small 'whoosh' as a knife buried itself into the Wraith's back, and it dropped, dead at Ronon's feet.
Ronon looked up into the grinning face of the human. He was young, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He was garbed in little more than rags, but an assortment of weapons hung on his person. He reached down, and offered Ronon a hand up. Hesitantly, the runner grabbed the man's hand, coming lightly to his feet.
"See, I told you. Next time, you should keep the knife." The man reached down, and handed Ronon a remarkably large hunting knife, its blade gleaming in the sun. Still out of breath, Ronon wordlessly accepted the weapon, then, as the absurdity of the situation finally registered, he sat down with a grunt. His human helper merely gave a wry grin, and sat down next to Ronon.
"It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it, Dex?" he asked, then lightly punched the runner in the arm. Ronon merely stared at the man, then his gaze perused the grass and trees surrounding them. Where the hell was he? And who was this guy? And where was the team? Ronon closed his eyes. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answers to his questions.
oOo
Teyla Emmagen settled into a crouch, leaning against a tree. She was more than a little disturbed. On her right was Halling, her friend and the man she had left in charge of her people. He was supposed to be on the mainland on Atlantis, coordinating the upcoming harvest. And she – she was supposed to be in the city, with her team, investigating a power problem. Instead, she was here, on Athos. And, apparently, in the middle of a hunt.
"Teyla, take the right. I'll circle around and head off the stag." Halling made a short gesture with his hand, and Teyla was yanked out of her reverie. She opened her mouth, needing to know what was happening, but he sent her a glare, effectively silencing the woman. Apparently, now was not the time for questions.
He glanced at her, and she nodded that she understood his instructions. A moment later, he had disappeared soundlessly into the thick brush, his spear at the ready. Teyla looked down, surprised to see that she had lost her automatic weapon. Instead, a similar spear lay at her feet. She hefted it up, checking its balance, then headed to the right.
Within a moment, she had spied their prey; a huge stag, with enormous horns, stood grazing in the slight clearing. Teyla peered passed the deer, but she saw no sign of Halling. She wasn't surprised; she and her people were experts at stealth. Then, a small movement in a thicket, and she could see the tall man, crouched, his spear poised. She crept closer, her own spear ready. With a small twist, Halling launched the wooden shaft, the sharp point entering the animal just above the right rear leg.
The stag let out a large snort, then clumsily started running away from Halling's position, heading right towards Teyla. She waited, letting the animal bound towards her for a few more moments, then stood suddenly, causing the stag to abruptly change direction. Teyla tossed her spear, watching as the panicked deer was hit again, this time fatally. It crashed to the floor, kicking its legs for a moment more, then died.
Halling came rushing over, a huge smile on his face. "Excellent throw, Teyla. We will celebrate tonight!" He reached over, and grasped her shoulder with a large hand, giving her a friendly squeeze. Teyla merely nodded, her adrenaline flowing from both the hunt and the strange situation. What was she doing on Athos? Wasn't she just with Colonel Sheppard and the others on Atlantis? Teyla felt a shiver run up her spine; something had happened to them while they were in that room. And, she thought, that something was bound to be trouble.
oOo
Rodney McKay snuggled deeper into his covers, unwilling to wake up just yet. His bed was soft and comfortable, and the quiet of the room soothed him. He was just falling back asleep, when an unfamiliar hand gently caressed his arm. Then a body – a decidedly feminine body – scooted closer, pressing her warmth against his back, and wrapping her arm across his belly.
Rodney froze, his blue eyes flying open, as she nuzzled his neck, spreading little kisses along his exposed shoulder. He lurched up, wriggling around in the bed, coming face to face with…..someone. She smiled sleepily up at him, her brown eyes warm and welcoming.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." She settled back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to her neck. Rodney stared wordlessly at the woman, his voice lost in his shock. She returned his gaze, her face changing from relaxed to concerned.
"Rodney? Are you okay?" She sat up, allowing the sheet to drop, exposing her near-nakedness to the scientist. He gaped, unable to speak, and she leaned forward, rubbing a hand across his brow.
"You don't feel warm," she advised, then swung from the bed as the communicator beeped. She rose, shrugged into a loose robe, and then picked up a headset.
"McKay," she said, and Rodney lurched. Her voice was soft, deep and slightly hoarse. He watched as she paced the floor, then she clicked off the radio.
"Honey, I have to go to the infirmary. Carson needs a hand. Can you get Lizzie ready?" The woman paused, staring at Rodney as he remained speechless, then shrugged her shoulders. She disappeared into the bathroom, and Rodney sagged back into the bed. He ran a shaky hand across his face.
"This isn't real. This isn't real," he muttered softly to himself, then tightly shut his eyes. He counted to ten, then cautiously pried open one eye. Yup – he was still here, apparently in a room on Atlantis. But….shouldn't he be with Sheppard and the others, investigating an energy surge? As he looked closer, he realized that there were strange photographs surrounding the bed. A white lab coat was draped across the back of a chair – not his. And, strewn across the floor, were some woman's clothing. He nearly jumped sky high as the pretty brunette exited the bathroom, fully clothed, her face freshly washed, her hair twisted into a knot. She reached out and grabbed the lab coat, and Rodney could see a name tag attached to one lapel: Jessica McKay, M.D.
She leaned in close, giving him a warm smile, then kissed him quickly on the mouth.
"Don't forget to drop Lizzie at day care," she said, then she vanished out the door.
Lizzie? Day care? Rodney sat upright in the bed, his mind struggling to comprehend his situation. What the hell was going on?
TBC