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Silent Sacrifice – Chapter 6

Elizabeth looked up as Zelenka entered her office, escorting a balding man who had only recently come to Atlantis. She studied his face, trying to remember his name.

"Dr. Weir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Dr. Agnew must tell you something." Zelenka looked sternly at the stout man standing next to him. "Dr. Agnew," he said firmly.

Agnew pulled his arm from Zelenka's grip and sighed in exasperation. "Oh, all right, you can let go now. I still say this wasn't my fault. My system would work if used properly as I installed it. It had to be the pilot's fault if there was a problem." By the time he finished, he was sputtering and red in the face.

Elizabeth frowned in confusion as she looked quizzically at Zelenka. "Radek . . . what's going on?"

Zelenka was obviously angry and trying to control his tone of voice. "I may know what happened to Colonel Sheppard's jumper. Dr. Agnew can explain."

Elizabeth's face hardened as she began to pick up on the fact that Zelenka was holding the whiney man in front of her responsible for the loss of her top team, not to mention her friends. "Dr. Agnew, I think you had better explain . . . and you should do it now." She was rather pleased to see the look of fear that crossed the man's face.

"Very well. I developed a system for increasing the power to the jumpers. With the supposed brilliant team you have assembled here, I'm surprised no one came up with it earlier, but then, I guess that's why I was brought aboard." Zelenka rolled his eyes and Dr. Agnew pretended not to notice.

"We not use system like that because it will not work. Rodney explain that to you twice, that I hear. You don't listen and now Colonel Sheppard's jumper is probably crashed."

"What?" Elizabeth's asked loudly. "What have you done?"

"I do not have to stand around and be treated like this," roared Dr. Agnew.

"You'll do what I say," pointed out Elizabeth. "All right, lives are at stake and I'm getting tired of this guessing game. Radek, just tell me what he did."

Radek slid a look of disgust Agnew's way before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and continuing. "When he was overseeing maintenance and repair of jumpers five and six, he installed his system. Preliminary simulations Rodney and I ran show system will cause power surges and drains and loss of power. Colonel Sheppard's team is in jumper five."

Elizabeth bowed her head. She finally got rid of Kavanagh only to have him replaced by something more dangerous. How did this happen? She pulled her head up to look angrily at Agnew, trying not to think about the fact that he may have killed three people with his arrogance.

"You are relieved of all duty and confined to your quarters except for meals. If I see or hear of you being within twenty feet of a lab or the jumper bay, I'll have you thrown in a cell, is that clear doctor? We'll figure out what to do with you long term after I find out what happened to Colonel Sheppard's team. If you're lucky, we'll find them alive somewhere. Now get out of my sight."

Zelenka stood silently for a few moments before looking up at Elizabeth. "I thought you should know."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, I did need to know. Thank you Radek."

"Any word about Rodney and Colonel and Ronon?"

She could see the worry in his face and knew that he was close to Rodney, in spite of their constant back and forth jabs. She also knew he had become rather fond of John. "Nothing yet. Major Lorne took his team back out. They'll find them."

"Just tell them to open window and listen for loud complaining. Will lead straight to Rodney."

Elizabeth smiled. "Not a bad idea, Radek. I'll pass that on."

oOo

With a bit of surprise, John realized he had stopped falling and was hanging by the strap of the pack. His left hand clung tightly to the lifesaving strip of fabric as his legs dangled uselessly in open air. He didn't look down, having already surmised that a fall from this height would surely kill him. Studying his situation, he found that the other strap of the pack had wrapped around one of the sturdier branches of the bush it had been lying against as he grabbed it on his way over the cliff.

He looked around trying to determine the best way to climb back to safety, realizing that his arm was quickly tiring of holding up his weight. The small ledge jutted out in such a way as to prevent him pushing his feet against the cliff wall for leverage. He lifted his right arm up to grab onto the strap, only to have the pack slip down an inch or two as he took hold. His heart leaped into his throat as he waited for the drop, but the pack caught again and held. His ribs and shoulders were screaming at him, but he tried to ignore the burning pain as he took in the near hopelessness of his situation.

For a split second, he thought about how easy it would be just to let go. It would all be over very quickly. And then he mentally slapped himself, forcing himself to focus on the people that were depending on him. "Not an option, Sheppard," he muttered to himself. "Not get yourself out of this mess." He took a deep breath and pulled himself up closer to the edge of the ledge. He was almost within reach when the pack slipped a little more and he swung dangerously out to one side. He closed his eyes, once again waiting for the sickening drop. After a few seconds, he opened them again to find himself still hanging from the strap, if just barely. He had to do something quick, or he was a dead man.

Desperately looking around, he noticed a narrow piece sticking out several inches from the rest of the rock face about two feet to his right. It was slightly lower than the rest of the ledge and almost level with his chest. If he could swing himself over a little, he could make a lunge for it. Of course if he missed or it didn't hold . . . better not think about that.

John took a deep breath and focused. He would get one shot and one shot only. He couldn't screw this up. He made himself think about Rodney and Ronon and what could happen to them if the rescue team didn't show up soon. He could do this. He would do this. Determination fueling his resolve, he used his legs to swing out toward the narrow projection of rock. Not going far enough, he swung back and then forward again. He wasn't sure if it was far enough, but he felt the pack slipping again and knew this was his one shot. He threw himself at the rocky outcropping and mentally crossed his fingers.

oOo

Ronon tried to pull himself up into more of a sitting position. The movement sent waves of sharp pain through his injured leg, but he almost welcomed it over the numbness that was beginning to take over his lower body. He hated sitting around, injured or not.

"You think he's okay?" Rodney had really started to notice how fatigued and sick Sheppard looked the last couple of days. He was certain the man had suffered a severe concussion and had tried to act like he was fine. There was no telling what other injuries he was hiding in an attempt to fool either them or himself into believing he was okay. The man was a menace to himself and definitely needed a keeper.

"It's Sheppard, he's okay. He's just tired and it's a ways to the jumper."

"We always say that . . . that it's Sheppard and he'll be okay. I'm afraid one day he won't be okay and we won't see it coming until it's too late. He doesn't look good."

Ronon snorted. "And exactly which one of us does look good?"

Rodney opened his mouth and then closed it for a few moments. "Good point," he said quietly.

After a few seconds of silence, Ronon continued. "Sheppard's a soldier. He'll always do what needs to be done, regardless of how hard it is. You just have to trust him."

"Oh, I trust him to take care of us and do whatever is needed. I just don't trust him to take care of himself. He's not very good at that sometimes."

"He's strong, McKay. He'll be okay because he has to."

"I hope so. I've . . . I've gotten kind of used to having him around." McKay smiled sheepishly. "You know, for entertainment purposes."

Ronon laughed and was surprised at how good it felt. "It's okay, I won't tell him you were worried."

"Hey, I'm not worried. I was just . . . voicing an observation."

"Whatever." Ronon waved his hand at him as if pushing him away. "For what it's worth, I've gotten kind of used to him too . . . for entertainment purposes." They both smiled and looked instinctively toward the mouth of the cave.

oOo

John clawed frantically at the flat rock surface, desperately searching for a handhold as he slipped backward over the edge. He was pushing his body into the rock surface so forcefully, the edge of the overhang was scraping all the skin off the bottom of his forearms. He didn't notice since he was a little preoccupied with trying not to fall to his death. Inches from the edge, his right hand found a spot rough enough to cling to and stop his slide. He hung for a second, catching his breath, before he leaned forward as far as he dared and found another spot his left hand could dig into. He didn't feel the sharp edges cutting into his hands, only that he was finally moving forward and up instead of backward and down.

It took several agonizing minutes, but he finally hauled himself up onto the ledge of rock, panting and shaking, every muscle in his arms, chest, and shoulders burning and weighing a ton. He lay there for a while, unable to move or think, just relishing the inactivity and safety. When he finally lifted his head and looked up, it dawned on him that the still had to climb back up the side of the hill he had originally slid down. He laid his head back against the cool rock surface. Maybe in a minute.

When the shaking was under better control and he thought he could lift his arms again, he slowly sat up and looked up the hill, scanning for the most secure path up. He really didn't think he would survive another stunt like that. As he stood up, he realized he still had his original pack, but the one that had temporarily secured him to the bush was gone. Looking down at the ledge, he noticed a bottle of Tylenol and a scattering of candy bars and power bars. It must have torn open and lost part of it's contents. It wasn't much, but he would take what he could get. He gathered the meager rations and stuffed them in the pack as he prepared to climb the slope above.

The trip back up the hill proved uneventful. He might have said it was easy if he hadn't been exhausted and trembling the whole way, his muscles aching with every lift of his arms. When he finally rolled over the top and lay on his back, he had serious doubts if he would ever get up again. He could honestly say his whole body hurt.

But he did get up, staggering to his feet after putting the water bottles back in the pack. He hadn't gleamed much for his near death experience. A few MREs, candy bars, and power bars, and a bottle of Tylenol. Yippee. He lurched forward, moving toward the cave.

When he reached the little clearing they had started their attempted landing in, he sat down at the edge to rest. Taking out his water bottle, he looked across the plants dotting the edge of the forest. He frowned and leaned forward, thinking they looked familiar. Something about the leaves . . . carrots. They looked like carrot tops.

Curious, he took hold of the stem of one just at ground level and pulled it out of the soil. It was obviously a taproot, slightly longer than his finger and about as big around at its widest point. It looked sort of like a carrot, only cream colored. Taking his water bottle, he rinsed the dirt off the root and studied it. He lifted it to his face and sniffed. It really didn't have a smell to it. Breaking off the tough-looking end, he took a small bite and held it in his mouth. No tingling or bitter taste, which was a good sign. He slowly chewed and swallowed the small bite. Not much flavor, just a bit of a sweet taste at the end. The blandness was good for him though, since almost anything with smell or taste gagged him right now. He took another bite. The texture was pleasantly crunchy without being too hard, rather like a water chestnut. Before he knew it, he had eaten the whole thing.

Now that his stomach had a bit of food in it, he was actually hungry. He eyed the alien carrots and decided to eat one more. How else could he be sure they were safe for Rodney and Ronon? Besides, that was the first thing he'd kept down in days. He pulled up another and washed it, eating it slowly as he savored every bite. He was surprised to discover that the second one filled him up. He guessed days of not eating had his stomach convinced that the two small roots were a lot of food.

He rested a few more minutes, letting the food settle. He didn't want to head out too soon and upset his stomach again. The fact that it was retaining food was making him feel better and more hopeful than he had in several days, in spite of his recent brush with death. He pulled up as many of the roots as he could stick in the bag, carefully breaking the tops off so they wouldn't use up needed room. Happy with his collection, he stood and began walking back to the cave. Fresh veggies for supper tonight.

He was almost back to the cave when he spotted something else. He approached the tree and pulled a branch down, looking at the cluster of fruits that looked like small green apples. He had really hit the bonanza today. He pulled one off and studied it. It wasn't very large, maybe plum sized, but it did look very much like an apple. He used a bit of water to rinse it off and then took a bite, letting it sit in his mouth as before. It was a little sour, but all right other than that. The texture reminded him of a large grape, being much softer than he had expected from the peeling. It was a bit strange, but not unpleasant. He finished eating the fruit and looked down at his stuffed pack. He could probably get a few in there for them to try and come back for more later, especially if he took out the MREs and carried them separately. It wasn't very far to walk. He picked about a dozen and stuck them in the space vacated by the MREs now in his hand, then headed for the cave.

He reached the base of the hill leading to the cave roughly twenty minutes later. He was shaking and sweating and his vision kept blurring in and out. Obviously the apple-grape things weren't going to work as a food source. He set the pack down and fell weakly to his knees, his stomach rolling and lurching. He knew what was coming and it almost made him cry in frustration as he leaned forward and vomited until he was pretty sure there was nothing left inside, organs included. He brought up one shaky hand to wipe his mouth and noticed blood on it when he let it fall back to the ground for support. Not a good sign. Crawling a few feet back to his pack, he took the water out, rinsed his hands and splashed his face, then took a few sips. He was about to try standing when a sudden flash of pain twisted in his belly, causing him to fall over on his side and curl up as he whimpered against the jolt. He tightened the grip of his arms around his midsection as the fire burned hotter inside his stomach, causing his vision to blur even more with the tears it brought to his eyes. He fought to breathe as his vision grayed and he wondered briefly if letting go of the pack would have been an easier way to go.

oOo

Ronon watched as Rodny clawed his way to a standing position using the wall of the cave for support. "What are you doing, McKay?"

Rodney panted as he stood, drained from the effort of getting vertical. "I've gotta go use the little scientist's room."

Ronon snickered. "You gonna just happen to take a look and see if Sheppard is coming?"

Rodney began walking carefully toward the mouth of the cave. "I might." He stepped outside into the sunlight and squinted, letting his eyes adjust before he attempted to move forward. He didn't want to walk blindly off the edge of the slope. The cave wasn't exactly on a cliff, as John had pointed out earlier, but it was a steep enough hill that he didn't want to take a tumble down it. He was just now getting where he could move around a little and he sure didn't want to go back to square one, much less even farther back.

He made his way over to what they now referred to as the bathroom bush, just a few feet from the cave entrance and in the opposite direction that Sheppard took climbing up and down the hill. The colonel had commented that he didn't want to have to pass the house-less outhouse several times a day. As Rodney completed his business and turned to go back to the cave, he realized how dirty he was. Although they had each managed to take a sponge bath of sorts while the others discreetly looked away, it hardly substituted for a real shower. He quickly decided the second thing he wanted when they got back to Atlantis, after a real meal of course, was a long, hot shower.

He had just entered the mouth of the cave, daydreaming about his shower, when he stopped.

"What?" asked Ronon from across the room.

Rodney frowned and tilted his head. "I don't know." He cautiously turned around and stepped back out in the sunlight, holding his hand over his eyes so he could peer at the area below. He stood looking for a few seconds before he realized what he was seeing. Sheppard was curled up on the ground, not moving, a pack laying several feet away as if he had dropped it.

"Colonel!" Rodney shouted. Fear clenched his insides when the form didn't respond. He coughed, trying to remove the lump that seemed to be blocking his throat. "Colonel, wake up! Hey Sheppard, get up off your lazy butt and answer me!"

"What's wrong? McKay, what's going on?" came the worried calls from inside the cave.

Rodney was almost afraid to take his eyes off Sheppard, but he did to step back into the cave, using the door for support. His back was beginning to stiffen and hurt again and it was getting harder to move. "I can see Sheppard lying on the ground at the bottom of the hill. I think he's unconscious. At least I hope he's just unconscious and not . . . " Color drained from McKay's face. "Oh, God . . . we're dead."

Ronon's voice was stern, his expression grim. "McKay, calm down. Try to see if he's moving, yell at him until he hears you."

"Right, sorry, I get a little . . . never mind . . . going back out now." Rodney moved out of the cave and as close to the edge as he dared. "Colonel!" As he watched, the form began to move around and he gasped with relief.

John wasn't sure if he had actually passed out, but he gradually became aware that the pain in his gut had eased enough for him to breathe. He slowly got his arms underneath him and pushed himself into a sitting position. Rubbing his head, he remembered how much his body ached and burned with the new exertion and the battering he had taken.

"Colonel!"

John almost smiled; a voice from above. Twisting around from his seated position, he saw a form standing just outside the cave entrance waving at him. He was pretty sure it was McKay. "I'm okay, go back in!" he yelled, although his voice never got very loud. Mostly it was just low and scratchy, so he motioned for McKay to go back in the cave. He noticed the man waited until he was actually standing and moving to come up the hill before he complied. Grabbing the pack and stray MREs, John climbed the incline to the cave slowly, convinced it had somehow gotten longer since morning.

He staggered in, seeing Rodney standing by the door and both he and Ronon staring at him. He didn't have the energy to say anything yet. First he needed to sit. But before he made it to the far wall, he suddenly dropped to his knees and doubled over as a new wave of pain tore through his stomach. Grunting and panting for several minutes, he barely noticed as Rodney got down on one knee beside him and placed a support hand on his back.

When the pain finally backed off again, he was shaking even worse than before. He pushed Rodney's helping hand away and crawled to the wall of the cave, turning so he could lean on it for support. He drew his knees up to his chest to be ready for the next wave.

"What happened to you?" asked Rodney, his face pale with both worry and the stress of being on his feet so long.

"Sit down . . . Rodney . . . before you . . . pass out." John grit his teeth against a short wave of pain and then relaxed a bit. "I'll be fine in a while. Something I ate." He leaned his head back against the wall and tried to slow his breathing some.

Rodney picked up the pack and eased himself down next to John. "What happened? You look awful."

John chuckled as he glanced at Rodney. "You always had . . . a way with words."

Ronon grunted from his position a few feet away. "He's right this time. You look like you tangled with a tarclay."

John and Rodney both looked over at Ronon. "A what?" they asked in unison.

Ronon smiled mischievously. "Now you know how I feel most of the time."

McKay waved his hand back at Ronon at the same time he turned back to John. "Never mind him. What happened to you? I know you didn't look like this when you left here." Rodney looked Sheppard over, noting the new tears in his uniform, cuts and scrapes on his face and arms, and the unusually large amount of grass and dirt in his hair. He pulled one of John's arms out straight and pointed to his raw and slightly bloody forearm. "I'm pretty sure you still had skin on your arms when you left."

John started to answer, but another wave of pain hit and he leaned forward, curling up as tight as he could, his head pressed against his knees as he tried to breathe through the fireball in his gut. When it passed, he was once again trembling and panting.

Rodney frowned from beside him. "You remind me of a woman using Lamaze to get through childbirth."

John snorted. "McKay, don't even go there. That is so not funny."

"Fine, but you do. Now tell me what happened for you to be having birth pains and no skin on your arms."

John looked up blearily at Ronon. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I should never have left you alone with him all this time. Please don't hurt me when you're better."

"Get us out of this mess and I'll think about it," Ronon grumbled, but the slight twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

John nodded. He turned back to Rodney, still staring at him. "Okay Rodny, you want to know about my day? I'll tell you. I found the jumper, but it was too far down a ravine to get to without repelling gear. But there were several rations scattered down the hill leading to the drop off."

"You didn't."

"When I looked, it didn't seem all that steep and I thought I could do it okay."

McKay smirked. "I see two problems already, you looked and then you thought. I knew we shouldn't let you out to play by yourself."

John just glared at McKay for several seconds. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

Rodney glanced back at Ronon. "Entertainment." Ronon nodded.

"What?" John raised his eyebrows, realizing he had just missed something.

"Never mind, Colonel, we don't want to overtax that incredible mind of yours. Please continue." Rodney put his hand on John's shoulder and squeezed when he closed his eyes against another wave of pain.

John blew out a deep breath as his stomach seemed to relax a bit. "I had a little mishap going down the hill and sort of banged myself up. He looked down at his abraded forearms, wincing at how raw they felt. He probably should clean those up after while. He looked up at Rodney and Ronon. "I got some food and another bottle of Tylenol out of it."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "So you risked your life for Tylenol, Colonel. Yes, definitely the smart thing to do. It really is a good thing you're not the brains of this outfit." Rodney looked at the way Sheppard was eyeing him and made zipping motion across his lips.

"On the way back, I found these alien carrots that are pretty good. I brought a lot back with me and you guys can have some for supper."

He reached over to get the pack and pull it over closer. Reaching in, he pulled out one of the carrots. "They aren't bad and they seem harmless."

Rodney looked in the pack and picked up one of the apple-grape fruits. "What about these? They look like apples."

John snatched it from Rodney's hand as he doubled over, a new wave of cramps tearing through his middle. When he could breathe again, he stood and picked up the pack. Weaving his way to the cave entrance, he reached in and pulled the fruits out one by one, tossing them down the hill. He turned to find them looking at him. "Well, unless you want to end up doubled over in pain and vomiting, I wouldn't suggest eating those things." John stumbled back to his seat and sat down, trying to control the shaking in his hands and limbs.

"You ate this stuff?" asked Rodney incredulously. "You have no idea what is and isn't poisonous on this planet. You don't just randomly go around eating alien roots and fruits, hoping they don't poison you."

John sighed and looked up at Rodney. "You do when you're running out of food and you left your guide to edible alien plants book at home. We needed more food and tasting it is the only way I know to figure out what's edible and what's not. This one is." He held up one of the carrots. "Those apple things were not. And I can prove . . . it." His voice became strained as he bent over against the newest wave.

McKay let out a deep breath. "I guess you're right. I just don't know why it's always got to be you."

John relaxed as the wave passed. "It's what I do, McKay. You know that by now." John leaned over and pulled the ibuprofen out of one of the bags. "Here, we have Tylenol for Ronon's fever now, so take some of this for your back. If this goes on much longer, I may need you to help care for Ronon if you can. Now, how about some supper?"

Rodney looked down at John's shaking hands. "Supper's good. Is that from the poison apples?"

John smiled. "Yeah, but I don't know that they're actually poisonous." Rodney stared, as if fascinated, making John incredibly nervous. "Rodney?"

"Oh, I was just thinking. If we had eggs, you could make scrambled eggs without even stirring. Just hold the fork in the bowl and shake."

"You are so weird . . . not to mention rude."

"So I've been told."

Between flashes of stomach cramps, John managed to feed the two, splitting an MRE and supplementing with the alien carrots and a treat in the form of a candy bar. John was pretty sure Rodney couldn't have had a more euphoric expression on his face than when he was eating the chocolate, probably not even for sex. He got Ronon out to take care of his personal business and then collected wood for the night. Once everyone was settled, he cleaned up his abraded arms and the cuts on his face. By the time he had finished everything, it was almost dark and he was exhausted. The stomach cramps and shaking had lessened, easing Rodney's concern that John was going to keel over in a coma at any minute.

"Get some sleep," said Ronon, almost like it was an order.

John made his way over to check Ronon's temperature. "You won't have to tell me twice tonight. Just let me make sure you don't have a fever." He felt Ronon's head and decided, while he felt a bit warm, it wasn't bad. "How are you feeling tonight? I think we have one or two doses of morphine left."

Ronon shook his head. "It's not so bad I can't sleep."

John nodded and gave him some Tylenol. "Go ahead and take some of these. Maybe they can do a little something for the pain and the fever."

John returned to his spot and stoked the fire. "Anyone need anything before I turn in?"

Ronon and Rodney both shook their head and mumbled, "No."

"Okay, I'm history, guys." John lay on his left side and willed the tension to ease out of him. He still ached all over and his stomach felt sore and abused. The shaking was less, but still bugging the crap out of him. He finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep, willing them to be rescued while there was still time.

TBC