AN: Sorry for ony one chapter today guys but real life snuck it's little head in. And you're better off anyway, cause chapter 6 ends on a cliffie so you can shout at me tomorrow. Thanks gaffer, Linzi and Shelly for beta, advice, and shoulder to whine on and bounce ideas off of!
Chapter Five
The trip to their new house was unsettling. McKay helped him get dressed, and the amount of trust needed in that was something he preferred not to think about. When he asked Rodney what the clothes looked like, because all he felt was the distinct nylon he'd been hearing every time Gadmere had visited, Rodney had said imagine wind pants meet Mad Max.
With that disturbing mental image, John was guided to the lobby in a wheelchair, where he met up with Teyla. She took his arm, and with Rodney on the other side, they walked out of the building. Gadmere had said that he'd stay in touch, and to make sure they arrived for their appointments tomorrow. Doctor Calicut wanted to make sure the increased activity wasn't causing any unforeseen complications.
As Teyla guided him into a seat not far from where they'd left the building, John asked, "What's it like out here?" His feet didn't stumble against rocks, or dirt, and the ground felt smooth and hard underneath the soft slipper like shoes that went with the other clothes.
"It is…dark," she struggled to explain. "Artificial lighting is minimal on the streets where the transports go. It's like being inside a…"
Rodney interrupted. "Think of a tunnel, then increase it exponentially by five, which is really quite impressive, but square it off."
McKay did sound a little awe-struck. But John needed more. "Are there any trees, or bugs, anything? I mean, how do they survive down here?" He had so many questions, and it irritated him that if he could just see, he wouldn't need to ask. "It's all metal, what?"
"It's a steel alloy, but I think the steel is relatively new," Rodney mused. "Which correlates to us falling through the old air shaft that was apparently missed in the transition. They've been replacing the wood with this new alloy, creating a more stable and permanent structure."
"They've been underground for a very long time," Teyla added. "And I have seen bugs, but nothing larger. There are some…plants, but they are small."
"Think stunted, John." Rodney was getting better about using first names, and Sheppard didn't know whether it was a good thing or not. As they left behind everything that remained of who they were before, it became easier to accept staying, yet, John knew that it was important to distance themselves, and make the Nokomisian people believe they were accepting their situation.
As Teyla guided the transport to their new home, Rodney began a monologue explaining what he saw. The streets were narrow, with only room for two transports side by side, and everything was laid out in grids. John's mind flashed back to visions of Tron. Without anything else to compare, it was the best he could come up with.
There were raised platforms on both sides of the street, and flush against the tunnel wall, were the entrances into the buildings. Rodney hypothesized that the tunnels had been formed first then the living spaces carved off of the main passageways. McKay wasn't known for his art appreciation, but even he complained that everything was uniform, and dull. He even used the word depressing. Once they left what Rodney figured amounted to the Nokomis commercial district, the buildings went from businesses to homes, but aside from the lack of signs, you wouldn't have been able to tell the difference, according to McKay.
"What about power?" John asked. He looked to his right, because he was squeezed in the middle between Teyla on his left, and Rodney on his other side. Teyla was the one driving, as she knew the way. "They've got to be using something to run this equipment and maintain the environment? How?
"Do you really think I know?" McKay sounded peeved. "Just because I usually do know, doesn't mean I know everything."
With a broad grin, John knew the source of Rodney's irritation. "It really bugs you that you haven't figured it out yet."
"Of course it does," he replied testily. "But in my defense, I've spent the past week in an alien hospital, at death's door, I might add, and if that wasn't enough, which it is, they took my equipment." John felt Rodney's body shift irritably next to him. "I'll figure it out…eventually."
"Make it a priority," John suggested thoughtfully. "Because it might be useful when we go to…work." They didn't know to what degree they were being watched, but he was pretty sure they were being watched.
Teyla picked up the descriptions for the remainder of the trip. She painted a drab picture, with everything either gray polished steel, or black and white, and always the same structures, over and over again. John let his eyes close while he listened to Teyla's 'seeing'. He created pictures in his mind from the details he'd gleaned from both her and Rodney. John imagined the dull gleam of the metal, and the flush walls and doors with few windows…it all seemed very…Orwellian. More than ever, John knew they had to find a way out of here.
Ironically, the conditions favored the blind, because he wouldn't have to live with seeing the same sights, day after day. He imagined it would be harder for the rest of them, especially Teyla, having lived a large majority of her life closer to nature than McKay and himself. Ronon he wasn't sure about. His world had seemed pretty advanced, but he'd also been on the run for a long time.
When they arrived at what was their assigned house, a thought occurred to John. "Where do you park the car?"
"Park the car?" Teyla repeated, confused.
The transport had stopped, and Rodney was helping John out. He tried not to hesitate when he picked his foot up, and moved it forward. Then tried not to wince when his toe hit the curb, and Rodney apologized and told him to "Step up."
"He means this thing," explained Rodney. "No garage to put it in and I don't see anyone else's in the street."
"We do not keep these," she said, understanding. "They are for everyone to use. Gadmere explained it yesterday. I thought you'd also been told as much."
All of a sudden Rodney shouted in surprise. "What…it just…did it just do what I think it did?" he stuttered.
"Yes, it did." Teyla was on John's other side now, and guiding him forward.
"What did it do?" John asked through clenched teeth. Had he mentioned how much he hated not being able to see?
"It just," Rodney was stunned, "drove off, on its own. No driver. They've got autopilot on their transports!"
"That's it?" drawled John. "It isn't like they've discovered how to beam people from one place to another. It's an autopilot, Rodney. We've had them for a while back home."
"Yes, but, not like that," Rodney spluttered. "You should've seen it…"
John froze.
"Oh, god, I shouldn't have said that…it's just…big mouth, big foot. Never mind. You can hit me. Go ahead. Hit me."
Sheppard looked sideways where he knew Rodney was, and Teyla stopped guiding him forward. "I appreciate the self-sacrifice, but it's hard to hit what you can't see." John was inwardly amused even though part of him had cringed from the thoughtless comment.
"Should we not get inside?" Teyla interjected. "You two should get settled and rest."
Shrugging, John let her pull him into the building. Truthfully, the trip had worn him out, and he imagined Rodney was feeling the same. As they cleared the threshold into the house, he was surprised that it didn't feel any different on his face than the outside had felt. The entire underground city must be temperature controlled, and not just the buildings themselves. She guided him to the right, and placed his hand around a thick rope. A rope?
"Ronon and I ran these throughout the house. It is one level, with two sleeping rooms. Ronon and I will stay in one, while you and Rodney will be in the other. Each room location has a notch on the rope when you are standing directly before it. Follow the arrow and you will be led into the room. The kitchen has been arranged with a similar design using pieces of hanging rope. Tonight I will go through the system and explain which notch stands for plates, and silverware. The food in the refrigerator has been placed in a specific order for you." Teyla paused, letting the information sink in. "Do you need anything before you rest?"
To say that she'd just made him feel touched and sad at the same time would probably be like saying the Leaning Tower of Pisa was just a leaning tower. John had strong emotions always boiling underneath the surface, but he held them in control, most of the time. This injury, and the subsequent fall-out that came with finding himself blinded, was undoing his control.
He rolled the rope in his fingers and imagined the work they'd put in, still injured and recovering themselves, just so he could have some measure of independence. "Just one thing," John replied thickly. "What do they have you and Ronon doing?"
"Filing maintenance plans for the city," Teyla said, and John could hear the smile in her tone. "A job I believe we shall keep."
The impact of what she'd said shocked him, and left John grinning like a boy. Gadmere must not have known what job they'd assigned Ronon and Teyla. Maintenance reports! There isn't any way they could've asked for a better match. Now there was hope in finding a possible way out of this underground city and back to Atlantis.
"How'd you do that?" asked McKay. "Did they actually assign that job, or did you do something to get it?"
John frowned in McKay's direction, and tried to elbow him but ended up missing. "Rodney, are you implying that Teyla slept her way up the corporate ladder?" he needled.
"What?" Rodney responded. There was a pause, and then he groaned. "Would you drag your twelve-year old mind out of the gutter. I was actually wondering more along the lines of whose bones Ronon threatened to use as matchsticks."
"I didn't threaten anyone," Ronon declared grumpily somewhere in front of John.
He didn't think Ronon had been in the room when they'd first got here, which meant he'd either been sleeping, or eating, or attending to those other things. "No one said you did," Sheppard replied easily.
"Yes, I did," argued McKay. "Didn't I say that?"
From the direction McKay had turned, John knew he'd asked Teyla, and not him. John moved back, stepping on McKay's toe. He smiled briefly at the yelp, and then said, "A nap would be nice."
"Rodney, help John to your room. Food and drinks are in the kitchen, and we will be here if either of you need anything. I have some paperwork to look over and will be in the kitchen. It is good…to be together again," Teyla said softly. Her footsteps echoed as she walked away.
As Rodney prodded him forward, John asked the runner, "Where's your crutches?" When Ronon had walked into the main room, John hadn't heard the tell-tale thump-squeak.
"Hopping works better."
McKay snorted behind him. "He couldn't figure out how to use them."
"Didn't Teyla tell you to go to bed?" Ronon asked pointedly.
McKay poked John in his back. "Are you going to let him talk to you like that?"
"It's not me he's talking to," Sheppard said over his shoulder. "And why are you hiding behind me?"
"I'm not hiding…I'm helping…you." McKay pushed him forward. "Our room is that way." And if Rodney suddenly pushed John faster, it was a natural conclusion that they'd just passed Ronon.
John's hand felt a notch, and Rodney turned him to the right asking, "Eight letter word for home?"
John grinned easily. "Domicile. And speaking of which, where's the beds?" He didn't like to admit he was tired, but the trip had worn him out. He'd also started straining to see if he could make out more than just those odd edges of light. It was something he was beginning to regret, because there hadn't been any change, except the effort had given him a headache. The thought of going to sleep where no one else was around except his team was a relief he hadn't imagined would feel so good. They might not be back on Atlantis, but at least they were all in the same place.
"This way," instructed Rodney. As he eased John down, McKay used both of his hands, and Sheppard was alarmed at the trembles that were transmitted from Rodney's right hand, into his own. Without being able to see, he hadn't realized how severe the tremors were. Frowning, he reached out with his left and steadied McKay's right. "Is it worse?" he asked softly.
Rodney pulled his hand back. "No," he answered abruptly. "It's…when I'm tired…"
"Yeah," John said, understanding. "Four letter word for bad things," he cracked, trying to inject some levity into the tension-filled air between them.
"Do you really want me to go through all the four letter words that fit?" Rodney asked. "I've been working with the military for a long time."
Sheppard's lips curled up. "Good point."
McKay stepped away, and a few moments later, John heard the sound of a bed sinking under the weight of Rodney's body. He brought his legs up onto his own, and stretched out. He lay listening to McKay's breathing long after it'd evened out into sleep, confused by the constant roller coaster of emotions.
OoO
The next week passed quickly. John figured out how to use the rope system Ronon and Teyla had built for him, and they passed their medical checks. John's eyes continued to cast a pall over everything, and in many ways, he wondered if it wasn't reminding the rest of his team of their own injuries, and what it cost them, as well. Rodney's right side was weaker than John's, and after he'd dropped the third plate, Teyla had snapped at him to stop trying to fix his own food.
McKay had stormed out of the kitchen, and retreated to their shared room. John followed the rope and didn't bother knocking. "She's only frustrated at how slowly finding a way out is progressing," John explained. He knew what McKay was feeling. The conflicting worry about what would happen when they got back warred with a deep desire to go home.
"I can't do my job," Rodney admitted, and it sounded like it was the first time he truly realized the ramifications of his injuries.
John stumbled forward, running into McKay's bed, before searching with his hands to find a spot next to Rodney and sat down. "We'll figure something out."
"No, we won't. They're going to pack us up, stick us on the Daedalus, and give us a nice medical retirement check," Rodney insisted.
"We can become members of the Athosians, stay on in an advisory capacity." John felt McKay shift backwards and waited. He'd been running solutions through his mind almost nonstop. He didn't want to be shifted back to Earth, either, not knowing what was happening with Atlantis, and the fight against the Wraith. And, he still had the ATA gene to make him worthwhile. McKay might not be able to do intricate repair work, but he could tell people what to do for him. "We're not entirely useless."
"Did you know I used to play the piano?" Rodney asked unexpectedly.
"You never told me."
"Yeah, well, I haven't told you a lot of things." The laugh was harsher than John was used to. "I went into science because it was the only thing I was good at. I stopped playing the piano when my teacher informed me that I could only be a technical pianist, and that I lacked emotion."
John's shoulders were beginning to ache from hunching over, and he leaned back, finding the wall. "You shouldn't have listened to her."
"No," Rodney said. "She was right. I had no feel for it, because I don't do emotions well." He uttered a derisive laugh. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed."
Sheppard chuckled. "I won't. Trust me."
The unwelcome silence descended again, and John waited. It took him a while to realize McKay had fallen asleep. Sighing, John reached towards Rodney's body, and tried to ease him on to the bed without waking him. It was clumsy, and he couldn't verify the man was in a comfortable position, but it'd do.
John stood up, and using the bed as a guide, found the rope, and moved out of their room, pulling the door shut behind him. He made his way back to the kitchen, and got back to his seat.
"I am sorry, John. Is Rodney all right?"
Teyla was sitting to his left, and her voice sounded sad and contrite, and frustrated, all rolled into one regretful package. "He's fine," he assured her. "I think he had to finally face that he's not getting any better, either. I don't think Rodney's used to not being able to force his way through things. His injuries aren't circuit boards that can be re-routed."
"I think we are all realizing our new limitations," she admitted quietly. "I was…short-tempered with him."
Everyone was short-tempered, Teyla had that much right. Ronon insisted on hopping, and was often suffering a lot of pain because of it. His leg was healing slowly, and the runner hated not being able to move around like he used to do. When he and Teyla had arrived home from work, Ronon had bitched about filing paper, and threatened to set it on fire and then there'd be no more paperwork to put away.
When Teyla had pointed out that then there'd be no records left to examine for a way home, he'd snapped that he didn't care, and had stormed, with a hop-thunk the entire way, back to his room. It'd been shortly after that, when McKay had broken the plate, and Teyla had lost her temper with Rodney.
If John had thought Ronon wouldn't throw him out of his room, he would've gone and tried to talk to him, also. But sometimes, leaving people to stew was better anyway. Ronon had been through a lot before, and had kept himself going. Sheppard figured he'd get through this. Another four weeks, and the cast would be off, which would go a long way towards improving the runner's mood.
"And how are you managing, John?" Teyla asked, her voice gentle and laced with remorse. "I'm afraid we have all been too wrapped up in our own fears, that it is easy to forget…"
Easy to forget, he repeated, as she trailed off. He never forgot. Every time he stared into the darkness with open eyes, he knew. It hadn't improved. The few gray edges remained, but nothing new had lightened. Sometimes the panic over staying this way choked him, and John found an excuse to go sit on the porch and listen to the few transports go by. They'd been allotted a house on the outskirts of the city.
He suddenly felt the urge to go out there again. "I'm managing," he replied plainly. What else was there to say? He hadn't cried, or contemplated anything drastic. He still had hope, small as it may be, that there was something that Beckett could do for him when they got back.
"Is this still good?" he asked, picking up the sandwich in front of him. The Nokomisians grew food in special hydroponics labs. It was, Teyla had found out, the main draw of power and light for the city.
"It is."
He nodded, and taking the sandwich, stood. "I'm going outside." She knew what it meant. He wanted to be alone. With four people sharing one small house, finding time alone was a hard thing to do, and they all found their own ways of doing it.
John sat on the metal porch for a while, probably late into the night. With no way of telling the passage of time other than a mental idea, he listened as the few transports dwindled to nothing going by. He'd finished the sandwich, and let his back rest against the front wall of their house.
The door opened, and the hop-thunk gave away Ronon's presence. "I wouldn't really set the files on fire," he said, and dropped himself awkwardly to the porch beside John.
"It probably wouldn't go over well with your new employers."
"I don't really care about them."
The runner was always blunt, John had to give him that, but aside from the bluntness, Sheppard agreed. He'd tried to feel sympathy, but instead he could only muster pity. These people had burrowed away from danger and now seemed to live an almost half-life. Was it really better than facing the threat from the Wraith?
"It's night, and nothing changes here," John said finally. "Or does it – I can't tell."
Ronon stretched his leg out, the sound of it sliding across the metal made John cold. Everything was cold here. The only time he got warm was when he slept. "It doesn't, much. The sky's always dark."
"That's because there is no sky," Rodney said behind them.
John hadn't heard the door open, or maybe Ronon hadn't shut it. He listened as McKay moved over, and felt him settle beside him. Listened as Ronon moved and told Teyla to sit next to him.
"No stars," she added.
John breathed in stale recycled air. "They've lost their world, and they don't even know it," he murmured. They sat and listened as the night waned, and the few bugs chirped nearby, but otherwise, it was silent, except for their breathing and occasional movements. An underground city that wasn't even a pale replica of the real thing.