"Next time, I'm choosing," Sheppard grunted as he forced his way though the tight space.

"How was I supposed to know it would close up like this?" Rodney squeaked. He felt a pop on the back of his leg. "What was that for?"

"Don't stop!"

"I'm sorta running out of options up here!" Rodney's initial panic attack was long gone. It was a matter of accepting one's fate, which he was perfectly capable of doing as long as he could keep moving and not think.

"Is it blocked?"

"No."

"Then keep going!" Sheppard pressed his elbows hard to the rocks, and dragged his body another few feet, only to find that Rodney hadn't moved. "Rodney?"

"I . . . can't."

The voice was small. There was no sign of fear. It was frightfully calm, resigned and sad.

Sheppard reached out in the darkness and found his friend's ankle. He felt the man jump slightly. "Rodney?"

"It's getting too narrow." The breaths were growing shorter, and Sheppard could sense the man's muscles tense up.

"Relax. We'll just back out." Sheppard instantly started to wriggle backwards.

"No, just . . . wait."

Sheppard didn't like this a bit. "Alright, just listen to me. Take the torch and poke it in front of you, move it around, see how much space there is."

He heard shuffling as Rodney maneuvered the unlit torch in front of him. "Not much."

"Be specific."

"Oh come on!" he snapped. "Probably three by three and closing in, happy?"

Not really, no. Sheppard nodded. "Okay, rest for a moment. How's the arm?"

"Hurts. Useless. You try crawling around with a hurting, useless arm."

He'd rather not. He also didn't want to think of the dread he was feeling, which was probably tripled for the claustrophobic man in front of him. "You've been doing great, you know."

"Yeah, well, that'll make for a good dying thought. 'I crawled though a hole with a bum arm, hear me roar'."

"I'm serious, Rodney."

"We're gonna die in here, you know that?"

"No, we're not! Now just relax!"

"Relax?" Now his hackles were rising, and it was a much better sound than the hopeless defeat. "Being run through by barbed knives is preferable to the pain in my arm! I'm exhausted, I'm beyond hungry, which, by the way, I believe we're out of food and water? I'm stuck in a tunnel that is sucking the air from me, and you want me to relax?" The sentence ended in a squeak as a tremor vibrated deep within the cave.

Sheppard closed his eyes tight against his own panic. "Yes, Rodney McKay, that is exactly what I want you to do!"

"Well tough shit!"

Sheppard exhaled in frustration, and winced as Rodney started squirming, kicking small grit into the air with the soles of his sandals. "What the . . . stop it! You wanna bring this tunnel down on us?"

"No, I want the fuck out of here! Back up!"

Sheppard had been trying, but it was slow going. Not only that, but . . . "Okay, wait, wait, wait!" He sighed. "We may have a problem here."

"What? What problem?"

Sheppard shuffled his feet and felt a firm, gravely substance behind him. "I think we're committed."

He felt Rodney freeze. There was no movement, not even breath. "Don't say that."

"No, I mean it's. . ."

"Don't. Say. That!"

"Rodney! Listen to me!" He gathered his nerve. "You have to push forward, just a little, and see how much smaller the opening is. We may can still get through."

"How?"

"We can't go back! It isn't an option, now just do as I say!"

"What if it dead ends?"

"What if it doesn't? HUH?"

He waited. And, thankfully, he felt Rodney push off before him.

There was a lot of scrambling and cursing. He waited, trying to stay patient, but had to ask. "Well?"

The voice ahead of him was a little more muffled. "It's too small."

"Just pull your shoulders in!"

"I can't do that!"

"You can . . ."

"Colonel, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a little broader than your skinny scarecrow ass! And you're not up here, and I am, and I'm telling you I can't get through!"

There was a disgusted huff. "Not like you to give up."

"What?"

"You always find a way, Rodney. Now come on."

The pause was incredulous. "Haven't you listened to anything I've said?"

"Fine! You want to be responsible for my death too? I can't exactly get around you, you know!"

"Oh, now that is so unfair!"

"And true! Now get your ass moving!" And Rodney tried.

He really did.

Sheppard's eyes closed in concentration. "Okay look, this isn't working. Stay perfectly still."

Rodney did so, then started. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I said be still! I'm trying to get around you." Unfortunately the only way to do that was up and over.

Rodney grunted as a weight settled carefully on his back, and a sandaled foot dug into his lower leg. "This . . . isn't working!" he gritted between his teeth. "Watch the shoulder. . .Son of a!"

"Wait, just gimme a minute."

"I don't think so!"

"Hey, this is no picnic, alright?" He shifted and reached forward and felt at the walls around them, feeling Rodney grunt in dismay. He resisted the urge to kick him.

"Okay," the man beneath him practically snarled, " . . . no way out. . . now back off! And I mean that in the most polite way I can manage."

Sheppard snorted. "You're such a joy to be stuck with, you know?"

"I'm doing the best I can!"

"It's not good enough!"

"Oh yeah? Let's see you do better, Wonderboy!"

"Let me through and I will!"

"THERE IS NO WAY PAST ME! Or were you having so much fun crushing the life from me that you didn't notice that?"

Actually, he had noticed. Rodney's broader frame wouldn't push more than six feet ahead, judging by the length of the torch. The tunnel ahead was much, much more narrow. Sheppard scrambled backwards. "Okay, look. Pass the torch back again, I'll see if I can loosen this end."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't loosening debris a bad idea at this point?"

Sheppard pulled at the torch. "Got another idea?"

" . . .no."

"Okay then." He started to poke, very carefully, at the pile behind him.

Rodney was still for a moment, then pressed forward. Sheppard said nothing, he just kept poking.

Neither spoke for a good half hour.

Sheppard managed to wriggle back about three feet before another tremor hit.

He heard Rodney yell, and felt rocks cascading onto his lower legs, effectively blocking his retreat completely. All he could do was pant, and croak, "McKay? You all right?"

"I – it shifted, or something," Rodney said painfully, and managed a laugh. "I'm really stuck. No games."

Crap. Sheppard once again dug his elbows into the surface beneath him and pulled as hard as he could. Slowly he was able to drag his legs free from the weight, if not totally form the rocks. "How?"

"Pressing – on my shoulders."

Sheppard reached forward, but felt nothing. "How much further did you get?"

"I don't know. But you're not . . .wait. I hope that's you."

Sheppard estimated Rodney had pulled himself another seven feet. "Yeah, I'm here."

Silence. Then, "We're really going to die, aren't we?"

"I'm not giving up yet."

"No, no, of course not, because we have so many other options at this point."

Sheppard knew his optimism was unrealistic. But there was no way things would let things end like this, buried alive on an alien world. It wasn't right.

It wasn't fair.

Rodney snorted. "Well, I guess it's better that we die together, huh? Otherwise I might actually be scared."

Sheppard thought back to the jumper, crashed and filling with water, and wondered what Rodney had felt then. Alone. Cold. Not holding out much hope. Rodney didn't talk about it, and Sheppard didn't ask, but the effects lingered. The tremble in Rodney's voice was unmistakable. Sheppard squeezed his leg for support, unsure what to say. What could be said?

As usual, Rodney filled in the gap. "To be honest, I could think of worse people to be stuck with."

"Like Ronon?"

"You kidding? I'd of been out of here hours ago."

"Probably," Sheppard agreed.

"No, I mean . . .you're the go-to man. You get us out of situations."

"I thought that was your job, answer man."

"Well, yes. Yes, you're right. But you're wise enough to listen." There was a soft sound, almost like a whimper. "I don't know, I just, I like to think we're. . .friends, maybe, and I suppose it's good to die with someone you might. . .respect. . .kind of."

Sheppard blinked in surprise. "Was there a compliment in there?"

"Don't get too happy." There was a pause. "So are we, or aren't we?"

"Are what?"

"Friends. I mean, that's why you came after me that time."

It was a bizarre conversation to be having, considering the situation. On the other hand, considering the situation. . ."Well - we hang out, don't we?"

"Team bonding."

Now why would he ask, and shoot down the response? "Oh, right. Of course. In other words I need lessons in putting up with your little quirks so I know how to respond to them during missions."

"What quirks?"

"How about your ability to stick your head so far up your ass you can taste your colon?"

"Oh, that's just disgusting and totally untrue," Rodney muttered.

"Artucus?"

"I thought we were past that!"

"I was using it as an example!"

It was a sore subject between them, despite the efforts to play it off. "Well, as much as I hate to admit it, you probably saved my life back then as well. I'd hope that was because you at least like me."

"Teams do that, you know. Watch each other's backs."

Rodney's head snapped around, peering at the black space behind him. Sheppard felt the movement, and knew the exact expression on the man's face. "That's it? That why you rescued me from that jumper and all, I mean faulty heroic tendencies aside. Because I'm valuable to Atlantis." Anger filled the words.

"Hey, if it weren't for my faulty heroic tendency, your skin would be liquified and drifting from your bones right now!"

"Oh, well yeah, there's a great image, I needed that! Thanks!"

This was insane. "What the hell do you want from me?" Sheppard yelled.

"I WANT YOUR FUCKING HEROIC TENDENCY TO KICK IN, GOD DAMMIT!" There was a pause, then frantic sounds of shuffling followed, and Sheppard grabbed at the feet that were kicking at him.

"Rodney! Calm down!"

"Screw you!"

"THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Rodney wasn't military. It didn't matter. Such was the authority in Sheppard's voice at that moment, and such was his own need to be reassured, he obeyed. His quick breathing steadied, and he was aware that Sheppard continued to hold on to his leg, not patting him in comfort, but providing a steady, reliable presence. When he spoke again, the voice was small, but not shaky. "What I'm getting at is . . .do you risk your life for mine because I'm a team member, or because I'm a friend?"

"I'd risk my life for any of the Atlantis crew."

"And?"

"And. . .doubly so for my team."

"And?"

"Jesus, Rodney! After everything we've been through, not to mention all the crap you've put me through, you really think we aren't friends? I'm still here, aren't I?" Silence filled the tunnel again. Sheppard waited, feeling a little ashamed of his outburst, then prodded Rodney's hip. "Hey. You with me?"

"I'm here. Sorry, I just. . ."

Sheppard sighed. "No reason to apologize. Look, situations like these can. . ."

"Nonono. . . it isn't that."

"What then?"

"I – there's air." He sounded mesmerized. "I can feel air. And it's cool."

Sheppard pushed up onto his elbows, his head cracking on the rock above him. He muttered a curse. "How much air?"

"A lot! There's a definite flow-through. So the good news is, we won't suffocate. Bad news, we'll just die slowly of starvation." He seemed to be weighing the options, wondering which was the best way to be snuffed out.

Sheppard shifted forward eagerly. "Rodney, if there is that much air, then there is an opening. You just have to get there."

He actually laughed. "How? I seem to recall telling you earlier that I can't move."

Sheppard was on Rondey's legs, trying his best to see into pitch blackness. "Reach your good arm out. See how far it goes."

There was a grunt of concealed pain as weight was shifted to his abused shoulder, and a hesitation. "Gimmie the torch. Quickly."

Sheppard passed it up, and Rodney started chopping at the sides, which, after about five minutes of abuse, began to crumble inward. "I don't believe it."

"What is it?"

"Listen." Both men were silent. Below them was a steady roar, a roar which grew louder.

Sheppard was pressing forwards. "That sounds like. . ."

"Water. Lots and lots of water." With renewed energy, Rodney jabbed at the area before him. Sheppard scrambled forward as best he could, and both men tore at the rocks closing them in as the sound grew louder, the rocks turning to mush.

Rodney caught on a second too late. "Colonel. . ."

Their world collapsed around them, and they plunged head first into an abyss.