Stranded

Chapter 6

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. We're ready to go." John's voice echoed through his headset, and he toggled the power switches on the jumper.

"You're clear to go, Jumper 2. Good luck." Elizabeth's voice trembled just a bit, and John could hear her fear. Ignoring his own doubts, he turned to the others.

Ronon and Teyla sat behind John, armed to the teeth. In the back area, surrounded by medical supplies and electronics gear, sat Dr. Beckett and Dr. Zelenka. John had angrily objected to Zelenka's company, but was over-ruled. Radek had insisted that he needed to go; what if something happened to the jumper? Maybe he could fix the stargate on PX7-312, saving them hours of travel on the return trip to Atlantis. Other than McKay, Radek was the most knowledgeable regarding Ancient technology. John had only nodded, impatient to leave.

He took in a breath as he dialed P9X-006. The MALP had returned pictures of a foggy, apparently deserted world, but John wasn't interested in the scenery.

Radek's computer program had spit out this address, a planet with a stargate merely six hours from PX7-312. Soon….very soon, they would find McKay. Or so John prayed.

"Everybody ready?" he asked, glancing around the interior of the jumper. His eyes settled on Teyla, who returned his gaze steadily. She gave him a quick smile, then nodded her head.

John lowered the jumper into position, then accelerated, entering the watery event horizon, and towards McKay.

oOo

Rodney sagged against the DHD, knowing he was doomed. He had staggered through the brush, nearly falling to his knees too many times to count. His vision had faded in and out, his lungs burned and he had to stop every few feet, just to keep his bearings. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he had seen the gleaming metal of the stargate. Like a beacon, it beckoned, and he had forced his feet to continue walking, promising his weary body some rest once he was at the gate.

And here I am. Yippee for me.

After flopping on to the ground, and resting for a good fifteen minutes, Rodney had pushed himself to his feet, staggered to the gate, and took a good look. It appeared to be okay, in one piece, in working order. Rodney then limped over to the DHD, his heart sinking as he took in the damage.

The natives had apparently pried off one of the protective covers, and yanked out many of the cables and crystals that operated the DHD. Various pieces and parts lay in scattered ruins on the ground. Rodney had dropped to his knees, peered into the control panel, and felt like crying. There was no way he was going to fix this thing. Not only did he not have any tools or spare parts, but his body was reluctant to do anything other than lie down. His hands shook, his legs shimmied and his head swam. Rodney knew he had lost a lot of blood, and that his wound was serious. Even if he was completely healthy, he wouldn't be able to fix this thing.

Well, I guess that's that.

Briefly, he considered searching out the natives. Maybe they would take pity on him, and help him. He shook his head.

Yeah, they'd fix me up just so they could torture me later. No thanks.

He removed his backpack, and used the last of his bandages on his oozing wound. His hands were filthy with dirt and dried blood, and he stared at them morosely. He took a drink of water, draining the canteen and swallowing the liquid with a sigh. He bunched up the backpack, forming it into a pillow, then leaned back against the DHD.

He wished he could leave a note, but even if he had a pen and paper, Rodney had no idea what he would say, or even who he would address it to. John, probably, or maybe Elizabeth.

So calm. I'm gonna die and I'm so calm. Never thought I'd be so complacent.

Rodney McKay closed his blue eyes, shivering although the day was warm. Above him, the sun shone down, and birds fluttered by. He was so tired….so tired. And he had tried, damn it. It wasn't his fault he was wounded, or that the natives had destroyed the DHD. He wondered if John or Elizabeth were searching for him, worried about him. He would really miss them.

Friends. I will miss my friends.

Rodney's thoughts drifted, touching lightly on memories that were both joyful and painful, triumphant and agonizing. He thought of his sister, a married woman now, a person who was his kin, but remained a stranger. He would never get to know her now.

Sorry, Jeannie.

Rodney McKay, sprawled on the ground, his blood still dripping, felt unconsciousness take hold of him. He didn't fight it, wanting only to be free of the pain and the fear.

I will miss Atlantis.

He gave a half-smile at the memory of the city, then he sagged.

I miss my cat.

His last thought that death wasn't as scary as he thought.

TBC