A/N: For all of you who've been wanting to know what's been going down in Atlantis, this chapter's for you. And no, this is not some kind of McKay/Teyla pairing deal so don't even go there.

Ch. 6

Mind Your Heads

McKay already knew that tiny, microscopic insects resided on human skin. Not lice or dirt-wallowing vermin, but bugs way too small to see, feel, and therefore become creeped out by. But he assumed that's what he was feeling now; millions of microscopic bugs racing all over his skin, digging under the flesh to scurry about the nerve endings, giving physical form to his agitation.

Teyla had become a permanent fixture in his lab. Every time he walked in, there she was sitting serenely in a chair or perched placidly on a stool as though she were in an artist studio waiting to be sculpted. Of course, McKay always just assumed she was sitting placidly, despite observing her tense posture whenever he brushed by her. He knew why she waited day and day out, saying nothing, acting like the statue rather than the model.

She wanted to talk. Always an open soul, that Teyla. Being the leader and warrior-type wasn't enough for her. Now she wanted to try her hand at psychiatry. McKay, however, was not so open, and adamantly refused to give into emotional bonding opportunities. They weren't his style and he didn't see the necessity for it.

Teyla couldn't take the hint. McKay didn't deny she was a clever woman, but his own mind was far more vast. The only thing she was succeeding at was getting on his nerves and driving all the little flesh-bugs crazy. Today the bugs were at their worst.

McKay had gathered a nice collection of rocks from the red/yellow planet he had christened Death's Backyard. It had taken massive amounts of cajoling to convince Weir to allow a small team to go back – as long as they swore on various relatives' graves to stay away from the chasm. It wasn't exactly a hard promise to follow up on. Its moaning, pessimistic howl had been enough to nearly drive Rodney back through the gate. The only thing that had kept his feet firmly planet on the ground was, in fact, the ground. No way was a dusty, dead planet going to stop him from discovering its nasty little secrets, like why electronics failed after a certain depth was reached.

And why we couldn't do something so stupidly simple as rescue the Major. Because all alien planets are freaks!

McKay glared through his microscope at the crumbs of rocks that glittered with flecks of metal and crystal. Same old stuff, just like the last ten rocks he'd smashed with a hammer, picked apart, scanned, digitally dissected to discover the vast majority of components to be unknown, and now stared at through a microscope.

The answers he wanted refused to be found. He had one rock, a pebble, containing the chemical, metal, or whatever it was that killed everything mechanical, and for the same reason couldn't study it the way he needed to. Scans fizzed out, microscopes blinked off, and everything else wavered on the verge of electrically fainting if the rock came as close as seven feet. He had to move the rock to one end of the lab just to use the other end. The only thing special about the rock was a thin sliver of yellow metal – like gold but much darker. The rest of the rocks didn't even have a fleck of gold-like substance.

Advanced civilization my A--. Can't even handle a tiny little pebble.

" Why do you keep searching?"

The bugs were running a mass marathon on his nerve-endings now. " Because I'm obsessive-compulsive." Rodney didn't have to see to know that Teyla was looking at him oddly. He huffed, and lifted his eyes from the scope. " Because I'm a scientist and that's what scientists do."

When he received no reply, he glanced over his shoulder at the perfectly stoic Teyla. He had his mouth open for another bout of back-biting, only to clap his jaw shut when the reality of the situation struck home. He'd actually forgotten who he was talking to, and that no return caustic reply was forthcoming. This was Teyla he was addressing, a being of comfort words, not sarcastic commentating.

Rodney quickly looked away back to the microscope. " Sorry," he mumbled.

" No need to apologize," Teyla replied, and McKay cringed slightly, both out of abashment and irritation.

" You didn't answer my question," she said next. Rodney stiffened.

" Yes I did. Listen, Teyla, I don't mind you hanging around," Yeah right, " but could you do so quietly? I'm trying to think."

" You didn't answer my question, Dr. McKay. I asked why you keep searching, because you have already found what you are looking for. That strange rock. But you can't study it. So why do you study the rest of these rocks? What are you hoping to find?"

McKay shrugged. " Oh, I don't know. Whatever there is to find. That's why I'm a scientist, a scientist studies things even after finding a crap-load of answers or a crap-load of nothing. It's just what we do. Why all the questions?"

" I only asked one."

The bug marathon was turning into a stampeded. McKay placed his hand on the metal table-top and locked his elbows to support his weight. " Teyla, if this is some weird mind game your people like to play to get other people to talk, you might as well quit while you're ahead. I have nothing to talk about. Why does everyone keep wanting me to talk about stuff when there's nothing to talk about? I don't like it when people try to get me to talk!"

Get you to talk? I always thought it was the opposite. It was a very Sheppard reply. Too bad it hadn't come from his mouth. McKay had the perfect retort.

Rodney dropped his head to let it hang limply from his neck.

Crap, he's haunting my brain.

" I'm not trying to get you to do anything. I just wanted to know what it was you hoped to find," Teyla said.

Rodney sighed. " Good question."

They both fell silent for the space of a minute. In that time, Rodney tried to return his attention to the microscope and what it showed him. The problem was a part of himself – a very large part of himself – didn't want his face planted back onto that scope. It was all just a load of redundancy on the other end, and he was sick of looking at it. He'd been doing nothing day after day except study those rocks, creating a routine that wasn't taking him anywhere, just keeping him busy. And anyone who'd tried to pull him away from his 'task' he would dismiss with the mantra of " I think I've got something here" or " not now, this is really fascinating stuff."

McKay looked down at the microscope in annoyance. They're a bunch of stupid rocks!

" Hey," he said, shattering the silence. " Let me ask you a question. Is the reason you keep hanging out with me because you suddenly find me fascinating..." about time, " or because - you know - you miss Sheppard and... I don't know, don't feel like being alone?"

He looked back over his shoulder at Teyla. Her eyes had shifted to the varied Ancient devices gathered on the table beside her, but her gaze was distant, unfocused.

" I don't know. Lately I have been feeling... restless. Not in the sense that I wish to keep moving about, but in the sense that I feel unable to find a comfortable way to feel. I wish to return to my people, yet I do not want to leave Atlantis. I wish to speak of what happened to Major Sheppard, but cannot when the opportunity presents itself. I wish to speak of Sheppard himself, but am unsure of who to speak to, though I do not know why."

McKay turned, folding his arms and leaning the small of his back against the table.

Teyla continued. " I do not feel so overwhelmed by these conflicting desires when I am with you, or Ford. Ford I can speak to, but with you I do not have to speak. It is as though with you, nothing needs to be said because it is already known."

McKay, for once in his life, was speechless, utterly speechless, and could only blink rapidly in surprise.

" R-really?" he said after a moment. " So, you're really not here to get me to talk?"

Teyla shrugged. " Only if you wish to talk. Silence has its merits as well."

" Um... Okay..." He turned back to the scope, but still didn't have the heart to look through the eye-piece.

What am I looking for? The question irked him. It was the beginning of acceptance to the fact that the only reason he kept looking was for the sake of having something to look for. He didn't want to stop; he wanted to understand, even though there was nothing left to find. He wanted to know why, even living in the dead-center of a vastly superior, technological city, they didn't have the means to save Major Sheppard. He'd fallen down a big hole – big deal – and with a mountain of resources at their fingertips they still couldn't get him out of that damn hole.

A freakin' hole killed him. A hole in the ground!

" It's not fair, you know," he said suddenly, turning back to face Teyla. " Oh no, not what you're probably thinking, that a damn alien pit took him out even after he survived everything else. It's not fair that there was a chance he was still alive, and in the time it took us to ready everything to get him out, that... monster or whatever it was sidled up and slurped him down. You know what that means? It means he died alone. While we were all valiantly organizing a rescue, taking our sweet time, he was left alone in a pit on some crap-hole planet... Dieing alone. And you know what the real kicker is? It probably wouldn't have happened if I'd just listened to him about it being a big 'ole waste of time. Because it was a big 'ole waste of time. He died for nothing. He wasn't even protecting anyone, he just stepped on the wrong spot at the wrong time, and whatever ate him has now – long ago – finished digesting him. He's a pile bones, at the bottom of a pit, on a forsaken world whose name is a number on a list of worlds recommended by the Ancients not to visit. He's gone, and I'm the reason why."

McKay whirled back around, fidgeting with the microscope though he wasn't going to look into it any time soon.

" You are right, Rodney."

McKay's hand paused in adjusting the scope's eyepiece.

" It was not fair that he had been alone. But you should not blame yourself. By logic, we are all to blame. We did not move fast enough, reach far enough, or react in time to stop what happened. But we did try to save him. Even after Lt. Ford told us of what he had found, you continued to hope, and to search, finding a way to take the jumper into the hole. You should not hate yourself, you have no reason to. What happened was beyond our control. Warriors fall, but not always by a weapon."

McKay snorted out a derisive chuckle. " Still doesn't make it fair."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. " No, it does not. But we tried. Never forget that we tried."

McKay dropped his head. " You know, I really do miss him. Even his big mouth."

He looked at Teyla and she gave him a wan smile. " You are not alone in that."

SGSGSGSGSG

" Hiiiighway to Hell! Everybody sing! Does that mean anything to you critters? Highway to Hell? Huh? No? You sure? Kind of feels like we're on that Highway right now, if you know what I mean."

As expected, no one was paying attention to him, except Big brother who kept flashing Sheppard withering looks. Apparently, kid brother's pet's constant chatter was getting on his nerves. John couldn't have cared less. At the moment, talking out loud was the only thing spurning his legs on, though he couldn't explain the connection the two had. Long treks over semi-rough terrain should not have been a problem for him. He'd handled worse, much worse. This journey should have been more along the lines of a leisurely hike through the woods, not a death march.

His body, however, was not agreeing with his brain. His head spun, his lungs burned, and his legs seemed to be forming a thick layer of led around the bones. And adding injury to fatigue, a sharp stabbing pain was gradually increasing in his ribs, forcing him to take shallower breaths. It also didn't help that he had to move fast to keep up with Junior.

The problem had to be hunger. The tough meat was slow to break down, and for the most part seemed to be more of a filler than a purveyor of life-sustaining nutrients. He wasn't just hungry, he was literally starved.

The Dino-folk had yet to take a break. They kept along the rock-wall pockmarked with caves, then entered a massive wooded valley when the wall ended. With the rock wall now far behind them, and the ceiling hidden by clouds, it no longer felt as though they were underground.

Birds the size of turkeys took off from the trees when the dino-people trundled by, sending massive leaves fluttering down around them. Animals calls echoed through the woods to be answered by other animal calls, and though Sheppard was surrounded by so many he couldn't help feeling a little like Red Riding Hood trying to survive the trip to grandma's house. Of course, Red Riding Hood hadn't been tethered to a monster that could take down the wolf in a single bite. So he was a little mixed on whether he should be nervous or at ease with his surroundings.

Allying itself with his hunger was the onslaught of thirst and a dry, burning throat. He had ignored any inklings of thirst up until now, when he was unable to swallow. These creatures seemed oblivious to the concept of 'rest stops'. Of course they probably didn't need rest stops, not with long limbs like theirs' that could cover a mile within minutes.

John tried taking up another verse of Highway to Hell, but could only manage a fitful cough. His throat was way too dry for any more singing. His legs were starting to give out as well, and his hammering heart felt ready to follow soon after. He was having a hard time keeping up with Junior, so in turn the leash started going taunt, pulling against the back of his neck and adding more stumbles to his stumbling. He grabbed onto the leash and gripped it, holding on for dear life for the inevitable face-first plunge to the ground.

" Hey. Hey! Kid! Stop, please! You need to stop... or... slow down... or..." he was panting too fast for words to keep up. " Something!... Stop...!" he coughed, staggered, but caught himself before he went down. His surroundings began to spin wildly in a mesh of color and shapes.

" Please... stop!" he gasped, following up with even more vicious coughs.

Finally he fell onto his chest, and the pain of it helped a little bit of awareness to slip in, enough to keep him gripping the leash. He slid over rocks, fallen leaves, and dirt, being bumped, jostled, prodded, and scraped, igniting fiery torrents that ripped through his body. He tried to cry out but the dragging had moved him onto his back, and the collar was becoming tight as his hand became slick with sweat. Soon, he lost his grip on the leash all together. The collar cinched around his throat like a noose, squeezing his esophagus and trachea together, and he clawed at the leash trying to grip it.

Just as his lungs screamed for air and the world shadowed around the edges of his vision, he heard a high-pitched squeal and managed to catch sight of Little sister pulling at Junior's tail. Junior turned to snap at her only to stop moving all together on seeing John being dragged like a rag-doll across the ground. He shrieked.

John gasped in as much air as he could against the violent protest of his ribcage. He coughed, eliciting even more protests, and saw the blurred form of Junior's head peering down at him.

" Thank... you..." John rasped. Funny how it had been Little sister who had saved the day after nearly killing him on their first encounter.

Junior clicked, chirped, and trilled with a look of deep regret in his neon eyes. He scooped John up in the most gentle manner possible, looking him over. Then, to John's astonishment, he was placed on Junior's own back with the help of Little sister who was actually being careful for once. John gripped the soft fur of Junior's mane, and once Junior seemed satisfied that John wouldn't fall off, trotted back to his original place by his mom with Little sis following on his heels.

John let out the most relief-filled breath imaginable. He wasn't going to beat around the bush about it; something was seriously wrong with him. Emphasizing the point was the increase of a throbbing ache filling his head, replacing the dizziness blocked from his vision by closed eye-lids. With his chest pressed against Junior's broad, flat back, Sheppard could feel his own heart beating and lending rhythm to the throb in his suddenly tiny skull. It was making him just a little queasy.

But at least he didn't have to walk any more. Plus Junior's furry mane was radiating a comfortable amount of warmth that soaked into John and eased the tense chill from his sore muscles. That same mane also created a kind of cushion that made lying on a bruised and cracked chest tolerable.

John went limp as a rag. The methodical pace of Junior's gate was pleasantly lulling, so lulling that Sheppard was able to ignore his hunger and thirst enough to drift into lazy pondering.

This is not what I signed up for. Wait, did I even sign up? Sort of, I guess. Well, not for this particular situation, or situations involving life-sucking ticks, hot-headed Genii, and alien vampires. What the hell was I thinking? Exploration, adventure, the chance to leave everything behind and start over...

Starting over; that sounded about right. Yes, being stationed in Antarctica had suited him just fine, had offered him a little anonymity, let him forget all the crap that followed disobeying a direct order to do the right thing. Well, that, and all the snow-boarding opportunities a man could ask for. The only thing he had missed about civilization was warm weather for T-shirt wearing and surfing.

Then he'd sat in that chair, and opportunity had reared its ugly head. Exploration, adventure, and the chance to start over. It was all Weir's fault. The woman was a smooth talker when she wanted to be. She'd told him fantastic stories about evil alien worm-things that would take over one human body and enslave the rest, area-51 type beings so advanced they could beam a person from point A all the way to the other end at point Z (with Z being some space-faring vessel), and an extinct race known as the Ancients of whom John was a descendant of.

Lucky me. Lucky, lucky me... His actual response had been more along the lines of " oh." Had he not sat in that chair, activating it, and before that dodged a squid-looking drone, he might have laughed, albeit a little hysterically. He did laugh sometime later after Weir had asked him (nearly begging) if he would like to join the team about to cross innumerable light years of space into another galaxy full of aliens and the unknown. The adventurous little boy in him said yes, the adult in him – after a quick background research into the Stargate program – felt a somewhat uneasy about it.

What the hell, why not? That's what I was thinking. Despite the soft spot in his heart he had for Antarctica, the desolate snowy waste, and the events that had him booted there, had seriously jaded him. Thinking back on it as he was doing now, he realized that he'd been desperate for something – anything – else. Being up to his neck in demerits had stifled many opportunities for him, then came Dr. Weir and her marvelous mission, a chance for him to be a part of something great. He had been a prisoner, and she had given him the key to his cell.

He regretted it. If he somehow managed to survive and get home, the regret would pass, but for now he gave into it. He blamed Weir, but not in a bad way. After all, it wasn't like she had put a gun to his head and told him to join the expedition or else. Saying 'yes' to it had been his own doing. Still, she had presented an offer that had been like food set before a starving man. 'No' had temporarily vanished from Sheppard's vocabulary.

He blamed her, but at the same time couldn't help thanking her.

Wow, I'm getting delirious.

No, he wouldn't lay the blame on her. How were any of them supposed to know he would end up spending the rest of his days on a leash? Even with the collar chafing his neck and the feel of soft fur against his face, the reality of what had happened to him was really taking its sweet time about sinking in. He hadn't excepted his fate because he was still too numb with shock to react differently except for how he always acted – taking it in stride. He was waiting for the moment when it all finally hit, and he was reduced to a mental breakdown and huddling in a corner, sobbing like a baby.

Any moment now.

Something shrieked and the sound stabbed into Sheppard's pulsing brain. He snapped his head up and blinked groggily as feeling slowly seeped into his limbs. It took him a moment to realize that Junior had stopped moving.

John blinked a few more times to clear the gunky-haze from his eyes. He saw Junior's head turned up at the sky, and he could feel the dino-kid's body shuddering. In fact every draconian head was pointed heaven-ward, clicking, shrieking, and trilling wildly.

John craned his head back as far as his neck would let him. At first there was little to see through the heavy canopy of leaves. Then something flashed by, massive and bright. Junior cringed and slowly back up until he was huddled beneath Momma, clustering with the rest of his siblings.

" This can't be good," John mumbled, gathering fistfuls of Junior's mane to hold on tight.

There came sounds, like monstrous croaks, and they were coming from above. John could see more shapes darting passed the gaps in the canopy.

" What the crap is that?" he asked, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.

Then it happened. The fleeting shapes made themselves known by exploding through the trees and barreling down on the herd of Din-folk. They were birds, massive birds like vultures with longer, more narrow black beaks, copper feathers, and claws as long as John's arm. They attacked in a single torrent – a surprise attack – taking on the adults three to four birds at a time. The adults snapped and swiped at them, which forced them to turn about haphazardly, unable to see where their feet landed. Children were forced to flee from one parent to hide under another, or any adult that was nearest. When this happened, more birds rained down, making for the children. The super-vultures were quick, but the kids were lithe and nimble, dodging the birds with only a nick in the skin to show for it.

Momma-Beast had yet to swipe or even rear. She kept her feet planted on the ground and her body crouched protectively over the kids while her jaws snapped at every bird that came too close. She managed to snag two at the same time and crunch them to death between her teeth. Poppa-beast had pulled out a machete from the sledge and was standing on two legs, hacking at the birds that were within range.

It was chaos, but chaos with purpose. The beasts knew what they were doing, and John had yet to see a single child (as far as he could see) being carried off. But the birds were hard-pressed about not giving up. In fact, considering whether the birds had any reason to begin with, they'd obviously lost it all when the battle began. They dived, not caring whether it was into an awaiting maw or toward a giant machete. Apparently, their motto was 'if we go down, we're taking them with us.'

As though to prove themselves completely devoted to that motto, they increased their attack, focusing ten birds at a time on a single adult – namely those adults protecting kids. To John's horror, Momma-Beast was one of those adults. The birds dove at her and their claws burrowed into her skin. It was almost as though they were trying to pull her away. Then, as she began to stagger to the side, shrieking for help, John realized they were trying to push her back from her children. Poppa-Beast tried to come to her aid, but was assaulted in the same manner. These birds were smart, psychotic and smart – never a good combination.

With Momma about to topple, Junior and his siblings were forced to charge from safety toward the nearest adult, who wasn't near enough in John's opinion. Though it caused him an endless torrent of agony, he brought his broken arm into action by forcing it to pull out the only weapon he had – his knife. He kept flat on Junior's back, using two fingers from the occupied hand holding onto the mane to pull out the blade. Junior was running fast, so fast that the wind actually roared past John's ears and stung his eyes. Yet even through the tears he could see Little sister running alongside Junior, but Older brother and Older sister were no where in sight.

A throaty croak made the hairs on Sheppard's neck rise and cold shoot down his spine. He turned his head enough to see a massive copper body giving chase a little too close for comfort. The bird weaved, then angled just so to come up behind Little sister. It rose higher to glide over the smaller dino, and when Little sis looked up, she yelped, her fur standing on end and tears flying from her wide terrified eyes. Junior moved in close to her to push her away, but the bird kept lowering on her alone. Its claws extended to grab.

John jerked to the side and stretched out his arm to swipe the knife across the black-scaley leg of the over-sized buzzard. The bird croaked in pain and immediately backed off. Junior and Little sis reached the adult, only to take off again when that adult reared up to swipe at a cloud of vultures. Another bird descended on the two crying kids, this time aiming for Junior. When it came within range, John swiped with his knife, severing a claw. The bird recoiled, then resumed its descent. Again John swiped and again the bird recoiled. Finally, on the third try, John managed to take off a whole toe. The bird screamed and retreated back into the air. John let loose a hysteric cry of triumph.

" Screw you you overstuffed mutant turkey!"

The triumph was short lived when an attack came from the side. Junior skidded to a halt and crouched, but not low enough when the bird's hind-claw caught Sheppard to rake him across the back from rib to spine, then snag his vest and rip him from Junior. John flew to the ground, screaming in agony. The pain of impact, and the pain searing through his back, made the world grow gradually dark. Numbness flowed through his veins, into his nerves, and all consciousness abated.

SGSGSGSGSG

A/N: Hee-hee, evil cliff-hanger time. I would like to take this moment to ask you to please contribute to the Save John Sheppard's Wiry Hide Fund. All proceeds go to paying his medical bills that he might live and the whumps continue. In return you will receive a complimentary mug, plus the Ancient gene to work any and all Ancient devices. Thank you for your consideration. Paper money will not be accepted, only gold and silver doubloons. Another of my muses happens to be a pirate and that's all he'll take.