UNDER GLASS
By NotTasha
A/N: you guys are wonderful. Your reviews are like breakfast food to me!
CHAPTER 9: BLOB OF JAM
Ronon stepped clear of his protection, dusting at his shoulders and arms, kicking away the rocks that now barred his path. He watched the concussion of rocks. Below, boulders tumbled. Nothing remained of the Wraith – they'd been reduced to blobs of jam that littered the unhappy looking heather along the chute.
It made the former runner smile. He was covered in dust, suffering from a bruise or two, and had acquired a sore ankle and a bloody cheek somewhere along the line – but he felt pretty damn good. His hand brushed against his radio, and found it missing. He shrugged, not caring.
He smiled and turned to Teyla as she stood from her protected hollow. She was a little battered, a little dirty, her knees were bloody and caked with dust, but apparently she was well and whole.
Not bad, Ronon decided.
"I knew that would work," he announced proudly as Teyla came closer.
Teyla shook her head at him as she tucked a loose hair behind her ear. With a smile, she told him, "Anyone can get lucky."
"No… no…!" Sheppard drew in a breath. "Goddamn you, McKay!" he shouted. "Why'd we try that if it wasn't going to work?"
McKay continued to slump against the door, his chest jerking in pathetic attempts at breathing, making no sign of waking up.
"You arrogant, son of a…" He drew back and slammed a hand against the door, instantly, the transparent cover shot up. Surprised, he stumbled, losing his balance and almost taking a head-dive into the alcove, as McKay tumbled forward and out.
Letting out a glad sound, Sheppard found his balance and caught Rodney before he fell completely forward. "Rodney!" he called, glancing up to where the door had disappeared. Goddamn, it was good to see that thing gone.
He placed a hand against one side of the Canadian's pale face. "Rodney?" The face felt clammy, but he was breathing – he was breathing, drawing in great draughts unconsciously. For a second, all John could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he clutched the physicist to his chest, feeling waves of relief. Oh, thank God! Thank God!
He felt for a pulse. He found it, but couldn't make out anything from it except that Rodney was still alive. His breathing seemed troubled, the gasping was slowing, becoming shallower, and John shook his head in misery. "It's just the sort of thing you'd do," he muttered, still holding the scientist to his chest. "I get you out of the box and you stop breathing!"
The door had opened with a touch. He glanced at the crystal, still pinched in one hand. Son of a bitch was right. This one crystal was blocking everything. He jammed it into a pocket, not wanting to look at it anymore.
Wearily, he put McKay into the recovery position. They were miles from the Gate, on a planet with Wraith crawling about. He closed his eyes. Ronon and Teyla – where were they? How were they?
He sat with one hand on Rodney, as if he might give up some of his strength to the man. "Come on, McKay," he whispered. "You were wanting to breathe, right? It's the easiest thing." But the strange shallow gasps did nothing to alleviate Sheppard's fears. He seemed to breathing slower now. His pulse seemed fast. If Rodney was going into shock…
He sighed, wondering what the irritable scientist would have to say about one more form of shock foisted upon him.
"Stay alive and let me know."
Wishing he could hear that tirade, John stayed beside the scientist, and just was quiet for a moment, as he glanced to the main door, he prepared himself for what might come.
Minutes passed. Sheppard waited with the P90 held in one hand. He'd managed to move McKay into a more protected portion of the room, but if the Wraith were to come, they were sitting ducks. Sheppard glanced to the doorway, knowing that he'd be better off taking a position outside where he could see what was coming, but there was no way in hell he'd leave McKay now.
When he heard movement beyond the door, he patted McKay, and moved away from him, getting closer to the opening.
Ronon and Teyla hadn't responded to radio contact – so he could only expect the worst. He crouched, not wanting to leave the shelter of the room, not wanting to get far from McKay who still breathed too shallowly for his liking. He stood at the doorway, gun held ready, listening to the rustle of something coming closer.
Holding his breath, Sheppard prepared himself. He was going to be the last defense. No Wraith would enter this place. Not while he lived. And he gripped his weapon tighter in preparation to blow a hole through whatever came at him. Those sons-of-bitches would pay for what they'd done.
"Sheppard!" a voice called. Ronon, his voice sounding tight, concerned, "Sheppard!"
And John leaned out through the doorway, unable to suppress the smile as Ronon and Teyla appeared, coming through the forest toward the entrance. They paused and regarded him. Both looked worse for wear – a little battered and bloodied, but they smiled when they saw him.
"The Wraith?" Sheppard asked urgently.
"Dead," Ronon proclaimed with pride. "We took down four darts and seven soldiers."
Sheppard, for a moment, had nothing to say. "Seven?"
Ronon nodded, and stated casually. "Yeah. Got 'em."
"And four darts," Teyla added self-assuredly.
Ronon included, "And a probe."
Sheppard glanced from one to the other. "The two of you."
Ronon bobbed his head in a nod.
"How?"
"Wire and rocks," Ronon replied easily.
There was undoubtedly more to the story, but now wasn't the time to pursue it. "Any more Wraith coming?"
Teyla replied confidently, "I have not felt their presence return."
"Well," Sheppard sighed, "That's some good news."
"Colonel, it is good to see that you are well," Teyla stated.
"Didn't know if you'd have the door open yet or not," Ronon added, as he approached the opening. "Looks like you got it."
Teyla's her brow furrowed when she noticed John was alone in the doorway, that she didn't hear a constant and familiar prattle. "Doctor McKay?" she asked.
Sheppard jerked his head toward the interior of the room. "I just about killed him," he stated bluntly. "We need to get him back to Atlantis."
Teyla's hopeful look fell as she saw the fear reflected in Sheppard's eyes, and she jogged past him into the little room. Ronon stopped when he reached the doorway, not moving any further as he watched Teyla dropped beside the scientist. McKay wasn't moving, looking pale and sick.
"What happened?" the former runner asked.
"Well, as if suffocating wasn't bad enough, I nearly shocked him to death," Sheppard responded, watching Teyla as she touched Rodney's face gently.
"He is very ill," Teyla said softly. "We should return immediately. We should find some means of carrying him."
Ronon nodded and backed out of the doorway. Pulling one of his knives, he began attacking a nearby trees. Sheppard watched him for a moment, as the Satedan brought a sapling down within a few seconds. Ronon seemed know what he was doing, so Sheppard stepped back into the room and stood over Teyla.
The Athosian was murmuring to Rodney, but stopped her quiet litany when Sheppard came near. "That is the alcove where he was trapped," she stated to confirm her suspicion. She gestured to the room where McKay's data-tablet and pack still remained.
Sheppard nodded, and moved toward the space to retrieve the items. "A transparent door came down," he explained. "I don't know what those things were made of, but I wasn't getting through it. He was trapped without any air."
"He does not like to be in small spaces," Teyla reminded softly.
For that, she received an angry look from Sheppard. "Tell me something I don't know," he snapped.
But her eyes remained kind and soft as she regarded him. "It must have been difficult," she said plainly.
"That's an understatement. He hated it," Sheppard returned, picking up the pack, and then clutching the data-tablet. "God, how he hated it." With a sigh, Sheppard realized that in spite of his fears, McKay had been able to calm himself down. John wondered if he could have done the same if he had such a phobia.
Continuing, Sheppard stated, "He kept working at getting it fixed." The computer was still clipped into the system – the screen displaying a replica of the control console. "Kept trying. He was out of air. It was killing him."
"It must have been difficult for you as well," Teyla went on. "I would have been upset to see him in such a place."
John looked up from the screen to watch her, but she returned her attention to Rodney.
"Did you free him from the room before he was unconscious?" she asked quietly.
"He couldn't get the damn door open," Sheppard responded. "He was out of oxygen. He knew that if I touched the crystals he'd get shocked, but it was the only way to do it. He'd figured out which crystal was the linchpin." With a frown, John remembered, "I electrocuted him. He was out of it when the door finally opened."
Still looking at the screen, John said tiredly, "Once that crystal was pulled, the control console shut down." He gestured to it and explained. "The Wraith had overlaid their tech on it, booby trapped it. Made it impossible for anyone to mess with it without hurting one of our own. Once the panel was shut down, I could use the gene to open his door. I almost killed him," he repeated softly.
"If he were suffocating in the alcove, then it was the right thing to do," Teyla told him. "It is unfortunate that the transporters were not functioning," she added wistfully. "It is what this room was designed for, is it not?"
"We thought about that," Sheppard returned. "Couldn't risk it if we couldn't trust the using the control console." And Sheppard just stared at the image of that panel on the screen. It had been mostly dim when he'd seen it before. The image was bright now -- active. Amazing that the computer wasn't fried with the electricity. He regarded the image on the computer screen as he glanced back to the control console that it resembled…and wondered.
Teyla made a sound and she shot to her feet, in a protective posture over Rodney. Her head swiveled and she seemed almost to be scenting the air. "They're back," she hissed after a second. "The Wraith! They have come through the gate!"
Outside, they heard Ronon stop working. He came to the doorway and glanced within, his eyes fastening on the motionless scientist. "We should move him now. Try to get him someplace safe." Looked about at the room, stating, "I don't like the idea of being trapped here."
"Oh," said Sheppard, looking at the data-tablet in his hand. "I don't think we're the ones going to get trapped this time." He smiled at them. "I got a plan."
Sheppard waited, listening for Ronon. The Satedan was using McKay's radio, since he'd lost his. Teyla had to go without.
Sheppard moved slowly in the room – the same damn room he'd been in the whole time – but this time, he had control of it – and that made all the difference. He walked over the central disk again, pausing for a moment before continuing toward one of the alcoves, and crouched down beside it.
Within, McKay had been carefully placed, curled and leaning against one wall, a folded jacket under his head, and draped with the remaining coats. Sheppard paused, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Rodney didn't move, except to breathe.
"I'm sorry about this, Rodney," Sheppard said softly. "But it's the safest place for you. I swear, this won't be for long. The crystal is out, so I can get the door up in a second." And he patted the crystal in his pocket, hoping it was true.
In his ear, Ronon announced, "We got some coming through on foot."
"How many?" Sheppard asked.
"Five," was his return. "Four drones and a male. They are approaching your location."
"Great," he responded.
"I don't like this idea," Ronon's voice told him.
"That's why you're out there, and I'm the one in here," Sheppard told him.
"He shouldn't be in there," Ronon went on.
"You think hiding Rodney in the woods is any better if this all goes to crap?"
"I'd watch out for him," Ronon declared hotly.
"I know you would, Ronon," Sheppard said with a sigh. "This way is better."
"How is he?" the Satedan asked.
Sheppard sighed, hating this part of the plan. "Could be better," he responded. "I'm locking him in now." It wouldn't be long, but that fact didn't make Sheppard feel any better as he brought the door down once more, trapping in the scientist. "Sorry," he voiced softly. "Sorry about this."
He stood outside the glass, as he had before, and kept his eye on Rodney for a moment longer, making sure that the Canadian didn't touch the glass – making certain he was still breathing. "Do me a favor," John spoke softy. "Much as I want you waking up, just stay out of it for a few more minutes, okay? You won't even have to know what we've done to you."
Assured that Rodney was as 'okay' as he could be, Sheppard turned and ducked into another alcove – the same one Rodney had been stuck in for so long. He picked up the still-attached data-tablet. He'd tested it as much as he was able, finding the controls seemed to work exactly as McKay had described earlier – he just hoped it ALL worked as he'd figured.
Sheppard brought the door down with a thought. Instantly, his hearing muffled, there was pressure against his ears. He felt closed in – under glass, as if he were in some sort of display case – like a bug mounted on a pin. The space was so damn small. He frowned, feeling even sorrier for locking McKay in again. This was a hell of a place to be stuck, even for someone who wasn't afraid of tight spaces.
Sheppard shifted, pressing against the 'glass' door in order to see McKay across the way, finding the other man's hunched back still toward him. John watched, looking for any sign of waking, but the scientist didn't stir. Don't, John thought, not yet. He wished he could have left Rodney with a radio – in case he woke up in there alone.
There was a click in his ear, and Sheppard knew why he had to rob McKay of that possible comfort. With that signal, the Wraith's coming had been announced – Ronon and Teyla were silent and hidden just out of sight, ready to add their help if the plan wasn't enough. Sheppard hoped to God this worked – hoped that McKay was right and the doors on the transporters would stand up to the abuse they were about to undergo – hoped that he had control of the room now and not the Wraith -- hoped the rest of McKay's theories about the facility proved right. What was that he'd said about 'blobs of jam'?
Rodney was rarely wrong – and Sheppard put all of trust in him – trusted him enough that he risked not only his own life – but Rodney's as well.
And the Wraith arrived.
They came in with a blast of light, startling and terrifying, as the Wraith fired into the room almost as soon as they were in sight of it. John was prepared, but still he stepped back almost unconsciously as the blast scattered across the transparent door -- making it glow bluish for a moment – and dissipated quickly. They fired again. Sheppard winced against the light, keeping an eye on the attackers. He could see Rodney's door aglow as well. Stay still, he directed at Rodney -- and to the door, he thought, don't blow up!
Something woke him. Something loud and bright, that pulled him from the depths of blackness.
He hurt. Everything hurt. His head pounded mercilessly. A blazing fierce pain fired through him. It didn't stop. Breathe… he had to breathe. He was going to die!
Fighting with every ounce of strength he had, he forced his way upward, out of the black and gasped explosively. His eyes shot open to stare wide–eyed at a wall, a white, terribly familiar alcove wall. No…
Oh my God… I'm still here, he thought. Still here!
"No," he gasped… "No… I…"
He tried to move, but it was as if a Wraith stunner had hit him, without the benefit of numbness. His body wouldn't respond, and when he tried to move a hand, his muscles spasmed and he gasped against the new pain.
"No… no… no…" He was twisted, his knees tucked to his chest, and facing the bleak wall. Sheppard? Where? I must've run out of air, or fainted from the electric shock. The shock… oh God… would it never end? Is it still going on? Every cell in his body ached against it. He hurt. He wanted the hurt to end. It pulsed through him still, setting every nerve on fire.
And he stared at the wall, disbelieving. Still there, he was still in the wretched little alcove!
My tomb, he thought cheerlessly. I don't want to die here. Please, don't let me die here…
"Colonel?" he tried to call, his voice raspy. Sheppard? Why hadn't Sheppard been able to free him? Where had he gone? Why wasn't he nearby? For certainly, Sheppard wouldn't have abandoned him here. He wouldn't, would he?
And for a moment, he felt the empty aloneness – and he furrowed his brow against it. No… no… Sheppard would not have left him.
Then, why wasn't Sheppard here? He should be, at least, talking, or raging just outside the door.
He tried to suck in another breath, but stopped -- realizing that something had happened to Sheppard – the shock from the control console. My, God, he hadn't considered the fact that Sheppard might be affected as well -- the shock – the horrible shock. Sheppard might have suffered, too. Sheppard might be unconscious… needing help.
He made a concerted effort to turn. He concentrated, trying to make his muscles work, but they were dead to him, disconnected. His chest heaved in his effort, he gasped, knowing that the air must be poison to him, but he had to try, had to at least see if Sheppard were all right. God, his head hurt…
But what good would it do? What difference would it make if he tried?
His eyes fluttered shut with the realization of his failure. This had been his plan. He'd managed to kill Sheppard as surely as himself. What was the point of anything now?
TBC - This is a good plan, right?