There wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt, which was a pity, because he had actually been better off not realizing there were so many bits of him subject to pain. The next time he heard someone say they hurt everywhere, he would definitely sympathize and get them a glass of water or something. Even the piss drink would be good right now, but Sheppard had those.

Rodney managed to raise his head slightly, eyes squinting in the dark as though to focus through it. He lay stiffly on his back, feeling bruised through. There was no way to know how long he had been laying there after his little tumble. No way of knowing just where he was. And as his hoarse calling showed, there was no way to tell were Sheppard was, either.

He hadn't fallen far. He figured that, because he was alive and unbroken.

Sheppard hadn't followed him. That was obvious.

And he could raise his head.

Well. That was something, anyway.

He grunted as he pushed carefully onto his elbows, grunted louder as he sat up and gingerly felt his sore head. Some blood, nothing serious. He wasn't dizzy, just disoriented. Legs were movable, arms didn't bend in odd directions. Neck was fine, back was sore as hell, but an experimental twist to the left and right proved the pain was only muscle deep. Pushing to his feet was an adventure. And then all he could do was stand in the dark. He was understandably leery about walking around in case there was another pitfall. He raised his arms to the side to get a better idea of his proximity to anything, and felt nothing. One sandaled foot slid forward, then the other. He shuffled like a baby until his hands found the smooth surface of the cave wall, and he let out his breath and slumped in relief.

But that relief was nothing compared to his feelings when a light started to flicker just over head.

"Colonel?" Rodney pushed away from the wall, his gaze directed to an area a good seventeen feet above him.

"Is that Rodney?" The accent flowed into the chamber like a soothing breeze. He couldn't believe it.

"Yes! I'm down here!" The light brightened, and his surroundings lit in orange flame. Not much to see, really, other than the way out was really, really up there. "What the hell are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, don't take that wrong."

"We decided you might require assistance." The man who had led them to the cave, smiled, leaning in over the hole on his stomach.

Rodney gave a little laugh. "Yeah, well, got that right. So how about getting me out of here, huh?" A thought struck him. "You, uh, haven't by any chance seen Colonel Sheppard, have you?"

"Why? Have you lost him?"

"We got separated."

"A shame. These caverns will eat people alive if not careful."

"Actually I think it's the Uber-wolves that will do that."

He smiled. "You've seen the Valklanan?"

"Yes, yes, Red Riding Hood and all that." He jumped back as a rope landed with a thump at his feet. He stared at the intrusion in astonishment. "Rope? You get a rope? We didn't get rope!"

"You climb."

Rodney regarded the man with some disdain, and decided since he was being rescued it would be better not to make a fuss over the whole packing issue. He grabbed the rope with one hand, and hesitated. "I'm not exactly iron man of the year."

"You climb."

"What I'm saying is, you might have to actually pull me out."

"You climb."

"Damned alien potheads," he muttered, and reached as high up as he could for a firm grip.

Physical education had been his least favorite subject in school. He saw the whole moving about for moving's sake as a waste of time. It wasn't until he had been stationed in Russia that he actually showed an interest in maintaining any sort of physical stamina or regime, and that was largely due to frigid temperatures and boredom. Even then he did just enough to get by, to keep his frame from getting too out of hand. On Atlantis he was forced through Sheppard and Teyla's combat scenarios, but even then it was enough to get by, which drove Sheppard insane. "McKay, you've got it in you," Sheppard would say, his words weighty with exasperation, "so do it already!" As Rodney gave himself a haul upwards, it was obvious he needed to do more than just get by from now on.

He pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around the rope at the knees, locking his slick-soled sandals onto the odd material. The shimmy he executed was quite possibly the most embarrassing thing he had ever been unfortunate enough to witness himself perform, and there was no way he would breathe a word of it to any living soul. But somehow it got him up, all seventeen feet, which wasn't really all that much unless you were counting inches.

Of course the footholds were at the top. Rodney latched on, felt hands grab his arms, and rolled over onto his back. Breathing heavily wasn't replenishing the oxygen supply rapidly enough. Anxiety took hold and helped push him to his feet. "Sheppard," he said, "we have to find him."

The man's expression was contemplative. There was a movement in shadow behind him. "I understand more than you know. But first, we must talk."

Rodney already had one foot ready to head away from the conversation. "About what?"

"You."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

And without any warning, they charged.

Rodney reacted before he realized what he was doing.

He spun and managed to block a fist, getting in a good punch of his own. He pushed the man away as another rounded on him, wrapping his arms tight around his body. Rodney struggled then fell to his side onto the ground, making sure the bulk of his weight landed on the man who held him. Winded, he was released, only to have the first man rush at him. On his back, he stuck his foot out, nailing the man in the gut and shoving him aside.

These tiny victories lasted only a moment. The man beside him pounced before he could rise, pinning Rodney flat to the hard rock, crushing his chest, his arms trapped by the knees of his enemy. His injury, which had been dulling a bit pain-wise, flared into recognition, and he screamed out before he could stop himself. Rodney struggled, for what it was worth, and it wasn't worth much, especially once he saw the fiery glint of a glass blade hovering just above his left eye. He forced himself still, gritting his teeth angrily.

This man he instantly recognized as the one who troubled him in the trenches, the one who was so protective of Lydya. The one who had watched him through days of toil. The one who had spoken to him only once, and the one he trusted about as far as he could throw a jumper.

This man smiled, and it wasn't friendly. "So," he boomed, "we meet again."

I hate this fucking cave. "You've been following us."

"Obviously."

He grunted, forcing air into his lungs. "Why?"

"It is simple. I wish to see this rush of water that reaches the sky."

"Look, I'm no idiot. I can read between the lines. You want the credit for saving your people."

The man gave an amused, one-shouldered shrug. "Is that a bad thing if everyone benefits?"

Rodney managed to raise his head, staring his captor in the eyes. "It is when the person in question believes he can lay claim to it and control it." He wheezed painfully, but continued in a harsh voice, "I've seen your type, hell, I've worked with them. Bunch of bureaucratic crap."

"You will show us."

"And if I don't?"

"Then we will be sitting here for a very long time while your friend runs out of air."

It took a moment for that thought to register. When it did, Rodney paled, and his already sore stomach clenched. "Sheppard? You've seen him!"

"Yes."

"Then he's alive, he's. . .wait . . . what have you done with him?"

"Not I. It was the cavern. Apparently he was not meant to continue with you on your little journey."

"You call this little?" It took a moment to put two and two together. "He's trapped, isn't he? Where?"

Again, the casual shrug. "I cannot say, anymore than you can show me where this rush of water is."

Rodney gave a sudden push, and yelled out in frustration when he found he couldn't move any part of him but his head. "Did you do it?" he gasped. The man wasn't getting any lighter.

"Like I said. The cavern is responsible."

"It was that damned creature. He's such an ass." Pain laced Rodney's voice, and he closed his eyes. "No, wait, the tremors. He was pushing me to run, and I . . ."

"Ahh, yes," the man sympathized. "And now here you are, playing verbal games while he slowly suffocates." His slow way of speaking was threatening. "Or, you can simply do as we ask."

There was no option. Rodney gave a nod as best as he could, and waited, expecting the weight to lift. It didn't. "I can't exactly go anywhere like this, you do realize that, right?"

The man said nothing, just stared at a point in the distance. It took Rodney a moment to realize the light was changing slightly, growing brighter, and he heard steps. A friendly, familiar voice soothed the sharp walls. "And what have we here? A slanda caught in his tre, perhaps?"

Rodney's brows lifted in astonishment. "Brouk! Oh thank god, listen," he squirmed, expecting the man on him to jump to his feet, "Listen to me, Sheppard's trapped, he may be hurt I don't know, and these goons want me to show them where the geyser is. Like I know, but you can see the difficulty, right?" He smiled, upside down from Brouk's point of view. The smile faded. "Well?"

Brouk walked around and squatted beside Rodney, still pinned beneath the big man. "I see the difficulty, yes. But you can make it so much easier by simply showing us where this - geyser - is."

Rodney's breath quickened painfully. "Oh god, you . . . I don't believe this. I should've seen this coming." He glared at the man on top of him. "And what is it with – would you please get the fuck off?"

"You will help us?"

"Yes! I'll fucking help!" He gasped in a lung full of air as the man slowly rose, and turned to his side, coughing, while his brain recovered and started to process the situation. Shakily he pushed himself to a seated position, rolling to one hip and pulling a map from the back of his pants.

"Okay," he said rather dejectedly, once he caught his breath, "here's the deal. Best I can tell there are at least five different tunnels that can lead to this geyser. Now which ones are safe and which ones are not blocked, I can't tell you. All I can do is show you which way to go."

"That is not acceptable. You will go with us."

Rodney barked a laugh as he stood, feeling a rush of confidence, which usually precluded a total breakdown. "'Fraid not, Kemosabe. See, I have this little rescue operation to attempt."

Brouk stepped forward, his inky eyes glinting in the torch flame. "You would abandon our cause, the cause of our people, for that of your companion."

"You better believe it." Rodney threw the map at them and backed away. "Here. Have a blast. And I don't mean figuratively." He turned on his heel.

"Wait." The voice boomed from behind, and Rodney hesitated. Brouk was watching him, and seemed impressed. "It seems we have misjudged you."

"Story of my life. Should I care what you think?"

Brouk lifted his chin. The friendliness Rodney had grown accustomed to was gone, replaced with a very business-like, very cold manner. "You will see a torch in the corridor. Take it. Your friend is not far."

Rodney was breathing heavily. He met Brouk's eyes, and saw the desperation placed there by a dying world. Even if they did rise to control by these means, at least the people would have water. He gave a nod. "Thanks."

"Good luck."

Rodney couldn't bring himself to wish them the same. He merely gave another nod, and made his exit.