Ford was shuffling up and down the corridor.
"They're about to overrun this position." he said. "Where's McKay?"
"He's not joining us," Sheppard replied. "I agreed."
His vision blurred for a moment and he rubbed his sleeve over his eyes, then pulled up his radio. "Let's move out."
OoO
"He was dead when I got there, Elizabeth," Sheppard's voice filtered over the speaker, and he sounded winded, sorrowful. "I'm sorry."
Stackhouse heard a quiet sob behind him, but listened to Sheppard. It shocked him how deeply the news affected him, he couldn't imagine how Weir would react, but there would be time to mourn later. The distant keen of alarms penetrated the hull of the jumper and he glanced at his watch.
"So the cesium will dissipate?"
"Not certain which flavour he used, but keep checking for radiation. Ford saw the gate activate, and you can hear the sirens - we figure they're bugging out but you might want to be careful. It could be a year, four years, fifty. Keep checking."
"Understood. Anything else?"
"That's it. Good luck. Sheppard out."
OoO
They made it down without further incident. The sirens wailed, and Sheppard tried to close his ears to them as he activated the mirror. The three of them stood together, holding on, and Ford touched the mirror - as something wrenched him away from the rest.
He fell back, rolled, and came to his feet.
It was Kolya.
OoO
McKay paced. Teyla and Ford sat against the wall, being checked over by Carson and his crew, and Elizabeth looked on, arms folded. But of all of them, McKay knew most about the quantum mirror, and he paced. And lectured.
"…brings us into an entirely new way of thinking about the Ancients, and their technology - but this was dated back even older than the city, which might mean that they located both this one and the one that was brought back to Earth and left them as - what - auxiliary Gates? Backup for their travels? Ways to put right what once went wrong?"
He shook his head, still pacing. "That could mean that there was a race of highly intelligent, technologically advanced beings that predate the Ancients. Sort of the - ancient Ancients, if you will."
He stopped, realizing no one was listening. "And where is he?" he asked. "You said he was right behind you."
"He was," Ford replied, gently pushing away the doctor who was trying to take his temperature. He stood, retrieved his P90. "Dr. Weir, request permission to go back."
Weir glanced at Beckett, who frowned. "The deterioration has begun, Doctor. I don't know that it would be safe for them to be there any longer."
"We know what's happening, and we know the layout," Ford reminded her. "It wouldn't take us long to find him."
He glanced down at Teyla as he spoke, and his argument died on the vine. She was semi-conscious, and the doctors tending to her were beckoning the gurney over.
"Why is she more affected?" Weir asked McKay.
"Hard to say." he replied, distractedly. "Maybe her doppleganger was nearer to our Teyla than their Ford was to ours. Maybe their Teyla was sick or injured and it - communicated itself somehow."
He sighed. "We just did the most cursory of experiments with the mirror back in Area 51 - it was far, far too dangerous to be monkeying around with to any extent."
"He should have made it through by now, Doctor," Ford turned back to Weir. "He has to have run into trouble. The way it was over there…" he glanced at McKay "it was terrible, m'am. We have to get him back."
"You've been too affected, Lieutenant. And I agree with Doctor McKay, while I share your concern about the Major, we must consider the dangers of experimenting with this mirror."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it!" McKay protested. "Never said that we can't try, don't go putting those words in my mouth!"
"And I feel fine, Doctor!" Ford objected. "I don't know why it's affecting Teyla more than me, maybe because she's Athosian."
"It could be," McKay picked up the thought "The Athosians' DNA is slightly different, it could be enough to make her more sensitive to the conditions on the other side…
"Stop!" Weir raised her hands. "I don't want to leave Major Sheppard there either. But it would make more sense if we sent people who haven't already accumulated damage."
She turned as Teyla was lifted to the gurney and didn't see McKay catch Ford's eye, holding up the controller, nor Ford's nod. They drifted casually towards the mirror, Ford retrieving Teyla's P90 on the way. She did see the flash of light, though, and spun, protest dying on her lips as she saw the mirror flare and darken again.
"Damn!"
Chapter 10Sheppard stumbled again, back pedaling. It shouldn't be happening, he told himself, there was no John Sheppard in this universe, no reason for him to feel like he'd just run a marathon - except for the beatings he'd already taken - his limbs were heavy, his reflexes slow, and Kolya planted another fist firmly in his gut, grabbed him by the collar and spun him into a pile of boxes. He landed hard, panting, came partway to his knees in time to receive a kick in his side that resolved the 'cracked or broken' debate. He rolled over, curled around the blossoming pain, tried to control his gasps as Kolya grasped his jacket and jerked him up, dragging him clear of the debris and swinging him towards the wall.
He hit hard and blacked out for a second, coming to in time to see a boot heading at his face. He managed to deflect the first, but the second connected with the arm he'd used to block and something snapped. He screamed at the pain, and saw through dimming eyes Kolya, grinning, as he knelt and pushed at one shoulder. Sheppard flopped on his back, unable to move, the agony of his broken arm blooming up and down his side. He raised his other arm, trying to strike at Kolya, but the other man dodged with ease, hands coming down to squeeze his windpipe closed.
He beat at the man, weakly, uselessly, he couldn't die here, not this way…but the hands were strong and determined and he couldn't breathe, anoxia colouring his vision with pops and blazes of light, ears filling with sand, damping the sound of the radiation warning sirens…
OoO
They heard the scream over the wailing alarm and reacted instantly, turning and running through the hall. McKay was in the lead and was first into the storeroom, first to see Kolya methodically choking the life out of his friend, first to pull his Berretta and sight like he had done so many times in the gallery in Antarctica, in training on Atlantis, fired like he'd fired at the Wraith, bullet after bullet drilling into the man who had tortured him and was hurting someone he loved like a brother.
Kolya was dead before he hit the ground.
McKay holstered his gun, glancing up at Ford who was leaning on the wall, not looking very good.
"Good shooting," he gasped.
McKay looked at Kolya's dead body, wondered for an instant that he felt - nothing - killing that man, and took the few steps to close the distance between himself and Sheppard. He dropped to one knee, reached out tentatively - and Sheppard coughed, sucking in deep draughts of air, moaning. His eyes opened slightly, puzzled to see McKay leaning over him…the confusion cleared when he saw Ford behind.
"Gotta go, Major," McKay helped him up, took the uninjured arm over his shoulder - and fell hard against the wall when a sudden wave of dizziness took him. His stomach churned, the most recent meal threatened to make a re-appearance - he swallowed hard and shook his head viciously, what was wrong? Something warm and wet worked it's way down his upper lip and Ford stared at him - he'd moved forward to keep them both from falling when McKay had wavered.
"Your nose is bleeding…" he said. "Doc, we gotta go. We gotta get out of here."
McKay nodded, swallowing hard again against the bile. His joints shrieked at him, his throat was closing. Ford grasped Sheppard's free arm carefully, and they made for the mirror.
OoO
And in a room far above, McKay felt his throat swell, and his breathing become laboured, and through the pain he still smiled, knowing that though he'd lost - they'd win. And he died.
Chapter 11Ford went first. McKay shoved Sheppard from behind, caution forgotten in the need to be gone, away, outta here NOW…he fell through behind Sheppard and lost the struggle to keep lunch down, lurching towards a plastic crate, falling to his knees and bringing up everything he'd eaten in the last week, it felt like. He felt a hand on his shoulder - one of the Marines, surprisingly, and when he'd brought up the last of his bootheels he used the tissue he was handed, bloodying it, drank from the bottle he was offered, and stood, walking carefully back towards where Beckett was doing a field assessment of Sheppard. Ford was sitting again, being evaluated by his old friend Hoffman. Weir glanced fleetingly at him, then stared.
"McKay? What happened? Were you in the fight?"
He shook his head and slid down to sit next to Ford, head still swimming, and pulled his knees up.
"The McKay over there must have been sick or something. I wasn't there for more than a few minutes before I started feeling it," He dropped his forehead to his forearms, working to stop the slow flip of his stomach. "Then it got really bad. Couldn't breathe properly."
"Radiation sickness." Sheppard rasped. He was on the gurney, Beckett tending to the broken arm, but his gaze was fastened on McKay. "McKay…dying…" and there was pain in his eyes that had nothing to do with the fracture.
McKay looked up at that, and, seeing Sheppard's face, pushed himself up with an effort and wove his way to the gurney.
"That's the other one, Major. The McKay that belongs here is me, and I'm very much alive," He grinned crookedly, swiped his nose with the last of the tissue. "See? Nosebleed's stopped. I feel fine. No radiation sickness here."
Sheppard's gaze held his, almost alarming in it's intensity. "Came for me." he said finally.
"Ford and I weren't leaving you behind." McKay could feel Carson hovering, but this was something that had to be addressed, and it was just as important as the injuries. "I couldn't break in another military goon. At least you have an intellect. Can you imagine me working with Bates?" He met Sheppard's eyes, unaware that his gaze said all his words did not.
Sheppard held that piercing stare for a moment. "you're…tall…" he said finally, and smiled a bit.
"Taller than you, anyway." McKay replied, grinning.
Sheppard sighed, and McKay patted the uninjured arm. "Go with Carson, now, like a good little soldier."
Carson touched his shoulder as he passed. "You're feeling better?"
"The other me was dying," McKay replied in irritation. "But all the symptoms eased soon after I got through, and I feel fine now." Carson cocked an eyebrow at him, and he sighed "I feel better, ok? It's fading as we speak." He saw the gurney pass through the door. "They're leaving without you." he commented.
Carson followed, "come see me as soon as you can" in his wake, and was in turn followed by another gurney with Ford, protesting, on it, then two more nurses. And he and Weir were left alone.
"I know why you're mad at me, Elizabeth, but I'd do the same again," McKay always felt a good offence was the best defense. "I knew he was in bad trouble, and he needed m...help."
Weir smiled slightly. "I am angry with you, Rodney, but I'm also grateful. Ford told me you got there just in time. You killed Kolya?"
McKay nodded. "Shot him." He blinked. "A lot." He wavered again, leaned on the wall.
"Come on," She took his arm firmly. "Let's go to the infirmary. I think Carson wants to check you over, make certain you're ok."
"I'm fine, but if the other McKay was dying…oh, crap," He stopped in the doorway. "That explains it."
"What?"
"Well, the other me sent me that letter…You may not realize this, but I have had a few - relationships - in my life, and - surprisingly - not all of them have gone well…"
They headed down the hall. Behind them, the mirror flickered once, and was dark again.
Chapter 12Beckett finished his report, sat back, stretched. From where he sat, he could see McKay slouched in the chair next to Sheppard. It had been five hours since they'd returned, Sheppard's arm was set and his injuries tended.
McKay had sat through a brief exam, and a radiation check, then moved the only half-way comfortable chair in the infirmary next to the Major and settled in. He didn't even have his laptop. Or his PDA. As far as Beckett could tell, he simply sat there, thinking, maybe dozing.
He looked up as Beckett turned off the light in his office and wandered over.
"So this is becoming a tradition, is it now?"
McKay shrugged. "Guess so. I've got a lot of data I suppose I should be going through."
"But you're here."
A small nod. "It'll wait."
Beckett moved to the other side of the bed. "Are you ok?"
McKay sighed heavily. "I told Hoffman, it was a reaction to the other McKay. It was like having the symptoms, but not the disease. It took a bit, but I really am fine."
"That's not what I meant."
McKay raised an eyebrow.
"Humans weren't supposed to know about alternative universes," Beckett continued. " 'What if' has always been the most useless question - 'what if' means nothing, 'what is', is important. Now we've seen what happens when 'what if' is real. Elizabeth and the first mission. This quantum mirror. Don't you find it disturbing on a deep level?"
"I try not to think about it," Beckett snorted at McKay's response, and the physicist amended "well, much. Really. If we really thought about it a lot, we'd be afraid to make any decision at all. It's something I chose not to pursue, a long time ago on Earth, when we were doing the initial work on their quantum mirror."
He stared at Sheppard a moment. "I killed Kolya. Shot him. What scares me is how much I hated him at that moment. He was on top of John, choking him, and I didn't think twice. Now I look back on it…" he trailed off.
Beckett nodded. "Taking a life can haunt you."
McKay shook his head. "You don't understand. I think about it, and I have no feeling at all. I shot a rabid dog that was hurting my friend. And I can't think about the alternatives, because then I'd get so entrapped with the alternate possibilities and what would happen if I did this, rather than that…" he stopped, and looked at Beckett with haunted eyes.
"Two scientists had nervous breakdowns, working on that thing," he said softly. "I thought they were weak. But they weren't. They were just more sensitive to the potential."
Beckett said nothing, simply met his gaze.
"What happened over there, Carson?" he asked helplessly. "What went wrong that I - he - would choose suicide?"
The Scot shook his head. "I don't really want to imagine, Rodney. But John knows. He'll put it in the report, and we will be able to read it, if we want. Myself, I don't think I will."
McKay sighed, reached over and minutely adjusted the blanket covering Sheppard.
"I don't want to. But I will. I know part of it, the other one wrote a letter to me, but the way the Major looked…" he left 'at me' unsaid, but Beckett knew it finished the sentence.
"I need to know what happened - everything - if I'm going to be able to be there…" He stumbled over the words, unused to the clarity. "For him. Like he was after Gaul."
He touched the blanket again. "He understood. You know?"
Beckett nodded. "I know," he glanced at his watch. "But now, I think you should be getting some rest. The night shift is coming on, you know they'll contact you right away he begins to wake…"
McKay nodded, but didn't move. "I'll stay a bit longer, Carson. If you don't mind."
Beckett smiled, wearily. He'd known the outcome before he'd even started the conversation.
"Right," he said, and pulled a blanket from the rack at the end of the row of beds. "Here. You'll need it later, it gets cool in here."
McKay accepted it sheepishly, and Beckett grinned, turned.
"Carson?"
He looked back.
"You do good work."
He smiled appreciatively, and headed out.
OoO
Teyla knew there had been a steady flow of people stopping by. Before she'd been released as fit, she'd seen them. Aiden had stayed for a couple of hours, Elizabeth had been there, but she had stayed away, once she could leave, and even she didn't know exactly why. Finally, angry with herself, she made her way back.
She stood at the entry. It was dim inside, but she could make out the shapes, Sheppard on the bed, McKay asleep in the chair. Her stomach twisted, remembering the other McKay.
It hadn't been losing his legs that made him suicidal. She could see it in his eyes. He was dying anyway, of what she did not know, but the lines of pain were clear, and he was going to make a decision that she, herself, understood.
Now, though, here they were, and Sheppard would recover, the city was intact. All was, presently, right with her world.
McKay shifted, woke. Sensing someone near, he sat. "Who's there?" he called softly.
"It is I."
"Teyla," He pulled himself farther up in the chair, bundling the blanket. "Hi."
She moved closer, stood by the bed.
"I am sorry I was not here earlier." It was cool in the room, and she had neglected to bring her jacket. She shivered.
He noticed. "That's ok. Here," he stood and gestured to the chair, and she sat. It was still warm. He passed her the blanket and she curled up under it as he strode up and down the room, swinging his arms and stretching the kinks out of his neck.
She stared. She couldn't help it. Her first impression of him had been of a self-centered, bad tempered man, convinced that the world was out to get him. Her father had been wise, though, and she had heeded his advice. "Fair skin may hide foul heart." he'd told her, a warning against judging people before knowing them. She knew his measure now, even more than he did, and it warmed her heart to see him healthy. Walking.
He noticed her scrutiny, stopped.
"Have I grown a third eye?" he asked dryly.
"Is that another ability of your people?" she asked, teasing.
He didn't rise to the bait. "Ford shook my hand earlier. You're watching me like I'm an interesting bug." He leaned on the foot of the bed.
"What happened over there?"
She knew he didn't miss the way she wouldn't meet his eyes. He picked up another chair and carried it over, settling beside her.
"Well?"
"I do not know the entire story, Doctor, but I will tell what facts I have."
In quick sentences, she sketched the city the way she'd seen it, leaving out only the parentage of that Elizabeth's child - it was not her secret to tell - and the manner of that Sheppard's death - she suspected, but did not know.
And described that McKay's injuries as eventually terminal.
He watched her, face neutral, and when she finished he nodded.
"Of course, you don't know the whole story," he said, almost to himself. "And I don't think you told me everything you know."
She simply looked at him, and he smiled a bit.
"It's ok, I trust that you gave me the important parts. Thanks."
She relaxed a hair. "I did. There was more, but I did not wish to give incorrect or incomplete information."
"The scientists answer. Or the diplomats." He leaned back.
"I guess we'll just have to wait for Sleeping Beauty here to wake up."
They settled in to wait, together.
Chapter 13Weir looked at the folded paper. It was the letter the other McKay had sent through the mirror along with the plea for help for the remains of the Atlantis expedition. It had been written on and scribbled out, as had all the paper on Atlantis, but it was something McKay had left with her. As part of the record for this particular off-world - or off-universe - expedition.
She unfolded it.
This is weird. I've never written to myself before. Mind you, I've never had my dead best friend come through a trans-dimensional mirror before, either. Listen, you're going to want to come here. Don't. Just don't. Apart from the deleterious effect on both of us you don't want to be here. John doesn't want you to be here. Trust him on this, and go easy on them when they get back.
I have to believe they'll get back.
I should tell you what happened here. I don't know how many men Koyla sent to the grounding station in your reality, but here he sent five. Even John couldn't take those odds. They dragged him up and shot him twice, right in front of us. In the stomach. I think that was Kolyas mistake, though. Elizabeth and I did what we could but he was in so much pain. He asked me to kill him. I did. When the wave hit I got a call to the rest, we tried to re-take the city, but it didn't work. That's when I lost my legs. The Genii wouldn't let me die, though, and once I could work again it was made very clear to me that if I didn't help them Elizabeth would suffer.
Listen. Things are bad here. And on top of it all I've been busy making certain Koyla couldn't use me forever. Figuring I have about a week before the damage from the radiation kills me. I've told her in the past to make a break for it but she wouldn't go. I started exposing myself to the material I've been using. I wanted to take away any reason she had to stay.
Then John showed up again. He doesn't know I'm dead yet. I'll tell him soon. I think he still has visions of saving us both.
Our plan needs Teyla and Aiden, and they'll need a radio. One of the last things Aiden said to me before he took off for a jumper was that they'll be monitoring the jumper channels. He was thinking of us all getting separated, but this'll do too. It's only been a few months. Hope he's kept his word.
The cesium should get the Genii off Atlantis, and our people will be able to return someday.
Did you date Angela? If you did, and she gave you the same goodbye gift as she did me, can you give it to Ford to bring through? Mine got lost when the city broke up. I just want to have that choice. I'm scared to die this way - and I always wanted to taste lemon juice.
I promise to send your team back, no matter what it takes. Take care of them.
The pain in the letter made her throat tight.
It made her wonder if she wanted to hear the whole story.
Chapter 14It wasn't the first broken arm he'd had, but it had been almost twenty years since the last one, and he'd lost the knack. T-shirts weren't that hard, the fiberglass cast slipped through the arm fairly easily, less bulky than plaster. Long sleeve shirts were more daunting, but one of McKay's old sweatshirts, from pudgier times, had covered that. Socks were tricky, but everything else south of the border was ok.
Except his boots.
One old sergeant had told him as long as he could tie his own boots he knew he was still a soldier.
"Guess I've retired." he muttered glumly, bowed to the inevitable and pulled on his sneakers.
He knew the rest of his team were off-world, and it was like an itch he couldn't scratch. The Desai were making good on some of their promises, and Sheppard had long ago come to the conclusion that the true heroes of the expedition were the nutritionists and the cooks, using foreign supplies and grains to keep them all fed.
But even knowing that they were in friendly territory didn't help. They were off world. Without him.
OoO
Weir was in her office, staring at the gate through the glass wall, and he rapped on the door.
"Want some company?"
She looked up and smiled. He took that as a 'yes' and wandered in, sitting - he was surprised how gratefully. His ribs were better - only one broken after all - and his strength was returning. All four of them had received a dose of radiation from the other McKay's 'plan B', but Beckett merely informed them not to break anything more for the next two years, because he wouldn't be using the Xray on them any time soon.
But he'd had two professional beatings, and he would be stiff and sore for some time. Weir's eyes followed him as he sat.
"They're due back in a bit," she said.
She said nothing for several seconds. Patiently, Sheppard waited.
"I read the reports," she said finally. "When did this mission become a Star Trek episode?"
Sheppard grinned. "About the time we stepped into a stone circle that sent us to another galaxy."
She chuckled. "Ok. But something wasn't in there." She leaned forward.
"Who was the father?"
He grimaced, he'd anticipated that coming up. "I don't know." Fortunately, it was the truth - Weir could generally see through his prevarications.
"You must have an idea."
"Teyla didn't tell me." Not a lie either, though he did have his suspicions.
She didn't give up. "Then she must have an idea..."
Never was he so glad to hear the gate engage. He stood, carefully, and his ribs made no real complaint as he headed out to the control area. Saved by the bell.
Teyla was first through, and she smiled up at them, heading up the stairs. McKay showed up next, and behind them came a parade of supplies on dollies, sleds, in boxes and cases. Glancing up, he grinned when he saw Sheppard, and tasked Farrar to manage the disposition of the materials, climbing to the second level.
"I'll want that back." He tugged at the shirt, and Sheppard slapped his hand away.
"Like it even fits you anymore."
"For which I'm grateful. We could make a million with this place, Elizabeth, think of it! 'The Atlantis Diet'. Secret ingredient - running for your life three or four times a week."
Sheppard shook his head. "You and your wacky get rich quick schemes."
"Teyla, if you have a moment?" Weir interjected.
McKay glared. "Interrupting our witty repartee," he grumbled.
"When I hear some, I promise not to interrupt it," she said sweetly. "Teyla?"
Ignoring the whines of the insulted, they made for her office.
OoO
"It was a success, I see," she said, gestured Teyla to sit.
"Very successful."
Small talk was over. "I read the reports..."
"...and you wish to know who the father was."
Weir smiled. "You're psychic."
Teyla regarded her appraisingly. "Why would you wish to know?" she asked bluntly. "Might it not affect how you relate to that person now?"
"...which means it's not Kolya, and effectively narrows it to two..."
Teyla sighed. "Knowing would gain you nothing. However, if you think about it tonight, and truly wish to know, we will breakfast together. You may ask me then," She looked over Weir's shoulder deliberately. "The Lieutenant is coming through. He is the last."
Ford was carrying three cases whose resemblance to beer cases was uncanny. McKay had found Sheppard a rolling chair and pushed him up to the balcony to watch with him, and was now bouncing with anticipation.
"Booze?"
He grinned. "Better. Ford!"
Ford passed off all but one bottle to the rest, bringing it up to the control room. He uncorked it and presented it to Weir, who looked around suspiciously and took a cautious sip.
"Oh."
She took another.
"Oh, that is good…"
McKay held out his hand and she passed it back. He handed it over to Sheppard.
"This is a setup, right?" he grumbled, but swiped the top of the bottle politely and swigged.
"Holy cow," He stared at the bottle. "That tastes like…like…"
"Tim Horton's Frappacino," McKay said, rocking on his heels. "It has no alcohol. It has more caffeine per cup than the best and strongest cappuccino."
"I was going to say Starbucks, but call it a cultural difference. This is amazing!" He took another blast, held it out. Magnanimously, McKay shook his head.
"He has already consumed three bottles." Teyla confided. "He is the source of some astonishment to the Desai."
"Three? Great. Wired McKay. Just what I needed."
Ford folded his hands behind his back. "We have enough for a week or so. The Desai say it's not that hard to make, but Mister Stoneface here," he gestured at McKay, who merely grinned at him, "shot my bargaining position to hell – they will want to do some more negotiating."
Weir laughed. "Seeing as how we'll all be caffeine addicts again by then, I guess we'll be going back soon. Carry on, gentlemen."
She retreated to the office, smiling to herself as she watched Ford and McKay push Sheppard as far as the chair would take him. To an outsider it would be roughhousing, but she saw how careful they were and knew her co-commander was in good hands.
And that was all she could ask for, wasn't it? Did it really matter what happened in the other universes, when her own was currently intact? And wasn't it just borrowing trouble, asking questions about a universe that hadn't – as far as she was concerned – come to pass?
She sat down, leaned back. She'd still meet Teyla for breakfast, but she wouldn't be asking the question again.
For her, here, now, it didn't matter.