(I felt like posting three chapters today)

THIEVES IN ATLANTIS

BY TIPPER

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CHAPTER SIX: THE FALLOUT

"Power it up," Bryce called from inside the jumper, causing Ren to stand up from his inspection of the back of the pod. A sound purred from inside the engine pod in front of him, and his eyes widened. He started to backpedal, but he stumbled and fell on his rear.

"Stop!" Zelenka's voice yelled from somewhere too far away. "Wait! Don't fire it!"

It was too late. Ren raised his arms to cover his face as a sudden explosion of heat hit him…at the same time something else did.

A huge weight slammed across him, carrying him sliding across the floor away from the engine, covering him and holding him tight. When they stopped, the weight fell away, and Ren, shaking and crying, pulled away.

McKay was lying on his side in front of him, eyes tightly shut, his face grimacing in pain. He breathed shallowly, almost gasping for air, and his hands, which had before been holding the boy to his chest, were now drawn up tight against his body, clenched tightly.

"Shut it down! Shut it down!" Zelenka was yelling, pounding up next to them. Everything sounded fuzzy to Ren, like someone had wrapped a piece of foam around his head. He was aware of feet pounding up next to him, and then Zelenka was louder in his ears, shouting at him. "Ren! McKay! Are you okay? Medical team to the Jumper Bay! We've two injured!"

Ren, still trembling something fierce, somehow managed to get up onto his knees, and his eyes lifted from McKay's face to see both Garron and Radek practically on top of them. His brother was quicker, pulling him up off the ground and away from McKay, worried blue eyes looking him over from head to toe. He whimpered a little when the older boy grabbed at his lower arms, and turned them over to see that they were bright red, as if from a nasty sunburn.

"Ow," he said softly, tears falling more freely now. Garron reacted, drawing him in close and hugging him tightly.

"You idiot," the older boy whispered softly, "You total idiot. Don't ever do that to me again."

Ren sniffled, turning his head so that he could see back to where McKay and Zelenka were.

The Czech was leaning over the still prone McKay, talking to him quietly. Rodney was answering back, his voice rough with pain. Ren couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but like a dam had broken, guilt started washing over him in huge waves. Over at the jumper, Bryce, Sanchez and the young marine were jogging over, confusion on their faces.

"Is…is he hurt badly?" Ren asked, too softly to be heard by anyone but his brother. So, Garron repeated the question for him.

"I don't know," Zelenka replied curtly, glancing over at them. "His back..." Zelenka grimaced. "It's pretty badly burnt. He took most of the burn from the engine." He shook his head, looking at McKay again. They could see that Rodney was resting his forehead against the ground, looking like he was just trying to breathe.

"Did he…he saved my life, didn't he?" Ren asked, his voice very small now. He felt Garron's arm's tighten around him at the question.

Radek just nodded.

Ren grimaced and closed his eyes. He was beginning to feel sick, nauseous. He didn't want to think anymore.

Luckily, he didn't have to, because Beckett and a full medical team burst into the jumper bay and took over.

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No one got Beef Wellington that night.

Neera sat in the conference room, plucking at the dark military issue trousers she had been given, listening to the explanation of what had happened in the Jumper Bay. Bryce's team had already given their story, and then Zelenka had given his. Carson was the one speaking now, updating them on McKay and Ren's conditions. Her eyes remained downcast as she took it all in, not ready yet to take part.

Ren, luckily, only had first degree burns on his arms and parts of his face. Still, he was feeling sick and shaky, so Carson was letting him stay in the infirmary overnight.

McKay had first and second degree burns on his upper and middle back, and on his upper arms and shoulders, where he had shielded the boy. He'd be okay, but the skin would be tender for a couple of weeks, and the pain was pretty nasty. He was going to be a patient in the infirmary for a couple of nights until the swellings went down.

Neera knew she should be upset—desperately worried about Ren or scared about what could have happened. Instead, all she felt was anger. What the hell had Ren been thinking? Both he and McKay were lucky that the engine test had failed, or they'd probably both be suffering third degree burns if not worse! Part of her wanted to strangle the boy for being so careless, for nearly killing them both, and the other to whip Garron for letting the younger boy be so carefree with his curiosity! She didn't care how old they were, it was no excuse for…

"Neera?"

Neera blinked, looking up. She found several sets of eyes watching her—they looked like they had been watching her for a while.

"Sorry?" she said, obviously a little out of it. Elizabeth gave her a warm smile.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh," Neera gave a light shrug, "Yes, I'm sorry. I was just thinking about…about how close we came to losing…." She trailed off, leaning an arm against the table and covering her eyes with her hand.

"We understand, believe me," Elizabeth said, her eyes soft, "But…I think this event tells us that we need to start thinking about the children a little more than we may have been."

Neera frowned slightly, lowering the hand. "What do you mean?"

"She means," Sheppard leaned forward, giving her his own version of 'understanding smile,' "that Atlantis may not be the safest place for them to be wandering around. We spoke before about finding them something to do, to keep them safe while you worked here, but I don't think it's working. The people working here just aren't used to watching out for," he shrugged, "well, kids."

Neera's lips pinched, her eyes narrowing slightly, "Are you saying…you want us to leave?"

"We don't want you to leave," Elizabeth said, grimacing a little, "but it may be what's in their best interest. I just don't think it's safe or beneficial for the children to stay here in the City. Garron, perhaps, is old enough to recognize the dangers, but Freya and Ren are so young…." She shrugged, "Plus, as we mentioned before, I can only imagine that they would be happier with other children their own age, of which there are many on the Mainland, a number of whom are refugees as well."

Neera studied them for a moment, then lowered her eyes. "So…that would mean, I couldn't stay in the kitchens, right?"

"I'm afraid so," Elizabeth said, sighing slightly. "Believe me, we really wish you could stay—your help this past week in the mess…well, I think you have the heart and souls of half the science staff already." She smiled lightly, then shook her head, "But…you know the children won't go without you, Neera."

"But," Sheppard held up a finger, "that doesn't mean that you couldn't still visit. Come, say, once a week to whip up a masterful dish for one and all." He offered his most charming smile…which Neera ignored by lowering her eyes again.

"I see." Neera grimaced, not the slightest bit interested in the idea, and her lack of enthusiasm was clear to all. Looking up again, she saw Elizabeth glancing worriedly at Sheppard, then to Carson on the far side. The physician gave a small shrug.

Elizabeth sighed, "Neera, believe me, if I thought…"

"It's fine. I understand. We'll go." Neera stood up, looking tired, "So…when do we have to leave?"

Elizabeth stared at her a minute, biting her lips, then shrugged. "Why don't we contact the Mainland, ask them to set up a place for you, and, once it's ready, you can head out?"

Neera nodded, "And how long does that usually take?"

"A week, perhaps?" Elizabeth said. "It should give Ren time enough to heal, and for everyone to get used to the idea. And you can come back to the City anytime you want, Neera. You and the children. If we could afford the jumpers to head over every day, we'd get you as often as that. The Athosians come often, especially when—"

"Fine," Neera said, cutting them off. "One week. I'll tell the children."

Turning, she walked swiftly out of the room, not looking back. Behind her, she heard Sheppard say sarcastically, "That went well."

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"One week," Freya said, pouting and leaning against Neera. They had just returned from the infirmary, where they had visited a very unhappy Ren. "But…he's not well."

"I know," the older woman said, hugging the child closer. "We'll just have to hope he's well enough to travel by then."

"He can rest when we get there," Garron said, standing on the far side of the living room in the small suite of quarters the four of them had been assigned. He had his back to her, staring out the window with his arms crossed. The City rose majestically before him, and he was looking over at the Control Tower in the center, as if he could see inside it.

"I suppose he will have to," Neera said, sighing. "I suppose, it doesn't really change our plans. Just…hastens them." She looked up, catching Garron's eyes as he turned around to look at her. "Will you be ready?"

Garron sighed, then nodded. "I've had some problems with the Satedan. He's made it harder to set things up, but...yes. I think so."

Neera just raised her eyebrows at him, "It's not a matter of 'think so'. We'll have to be ready."

Garron nodded more forcefully, "We will be."

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Ren sat up in his infirmary bed, leaning against the gray wall, his thin arms around his knees. He was looking across at McKay, sleeping on his stomach on the next cot. There were light gauzy bandages on the man's back, covering the worst of the wounds, and the rest was covered in an oily looking substance, making the pink, puckered skin almost shiny.

Lowering his eyes, he sighed softly and looked towards the clock on the wall. Almost 2:30 in the morning. Everyone else was asleep, except for a couple of Beckett's staff on night duty.

McKay muttered something and turned his head, so that now he was facing towards Ren. The expression on his face was tense, as if from a bad dream. He muttered something again, and this time, Ren caught the name—"Kolya."

Ren bit his lip, watching the emotions flashing across the expressive face. Even in sleep, McKay was an open book.

Releasing a shaky breath, he turned and slid off the side of the infirmary bed, wincing a little at the cold floor under his bare feet, and tiptoed over to McKay's cot.

Reaching up, he placed his small hand on the older man's sweating head, feeling the heat radiating off of it. With a wry grimaced , he gently started to brush back the man's damp hair, thinking about the way his own mother used to do this for him.

"Everything's good," he said softly. "Everyone's fine."

McKay's brow furrowed darkly, and he mumbled something like, "No, don't hurt her."

Ren's eyes narrowed, frowning. He lifted his hand away and let it drop by his side. "I'm sorry, Doctor McKay," he whispered. "I'm really sorry."

Eventually, McKay's frown lessened, settling into a calmer state. Ren looked down at the floor, curling his toes against the cold tile.

"I just," Ren sighed softly, and looked up at the ceiling, fighting back tears, "I just want you to know…whatever happens..." He grimaced, swallowed, and bit his lip. Reaching up, he touched McKay's head again. "Thank you for this week. It's been the best week of my life."

McKay didn't answer. He was deeply asleep now. Ren nodded in acceptance and simply turned to walk back to his own cot and climb back in.

Not too long after that, he was fast asleep.

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TBC...