Sheppard groaned as yet another negative report filtered in from the off world teams.
Where could those goof-offs have gotten to?
Sometimes being intelligent didn't make you smart – that was the case with these two.
Brilliant in their own respective fields, Blake Forrester and Sara Donovan had to be the two most juvenile, troublesome, and maddeningly lucky people he had ever met. And when two people like that get together… the major shuddered remembering the countless pranks and schemes the two friends had pulled off over the past year. The simple ones, like loosening the lid on the salt, sticking those springy snakes inside peanut butter jars, and the ever so annoying slippery patch on the east down ramp into jumper bay, were the ones that got them the cheap laughs. Then there were those horribly complicated plots involving holograms and hidden microphones… Sheppard had fallen prey to them far too many times to enjoy the laughter awarded to their efforts.
Now, they'd been missing for nigh on two weeks and the immense ancient city seemed that much lifeless and empty. Where could they be?
After the first week, the searches became less for them off on a planet laughing at their clever joke and more for any sign of were their bodies might be.
Reaching up, the exhausted man crossed off yet another address from the list written on the white-board. That made almost 46 planets without a trace of the two missing Atlantians.
Elizabeth watched as John made a line through another address.
His shoulders, so square and proud, were slumped and his entire manner was showing his exhaustion… and despair. Not that she could blame him. After the first week with no leads, she had given up hope of finding them alive but instead discreetly began writing up the papers that would be sent to their families should communication with Earth ever be established. Of course, there was always the possibility that they were just fine and trying to get back to Atlantis – there might be a problem with the DHD on whatever world they were on. They were bright kids, the both of them, and it wouldn't be too surprising if that's what was happening… but something nagged at her heart and she knew that she was just fooling herself. Something was wrong – something bad had happened and the two youngest members of the expedition were in trouble… or worse.
The science lab was disturbingly quiet.
The absence of laughter or those snickers of anticipation were getting on the nerves of the chief scientist more than the actual noises, jokes, and occasional bucket of cold water dumped on his head had been.
Who would have known that Rodney would have grown so fond of the menace in their midst that he sat alone in his lab in the dead of night silently grieving, holding a water pistol that had been hastily discarded by Forrester as a soaking wet and distempered Kavanagh. He chuckled at the memory, gently stroking the cheap plastic toy with his thumb. It had been one of his favourite pranks that they pulled, despite its simplicity.
And it wasn't as if he only missed the silent though mischievous lab assistant, Donovan was one of his own countrymen. A comrade. And not just a fellow Canuck, but also a fellow prairie kid.
They'd had a connection, he and Donovan, which was partly a support system – two Canadians in a dominantly American company – and a natural competition, an Albertan cowboy versus a Skatchie roughrider.
Now he'd lost that… and there was a profound sense of loss.
A passing marine happened to look into the dimly lit lab on her way past and saw the lone scientist leaning heavily against the table in front of him, white covered shoulders trembling slightly. She paused, unsure if it was her place to comfort the obviously distressed man, but decided that he would most likely appreciate being left in privacy.
She walked silently past the lab, making her way to her blocks where she told her bunkmate what she had seen. They both found it heartbreaking, and went to sleep that night with tears in their eyes and hearts aching for the two missing people they didn't know.
Aiden Ford, on the other hand, refused to hide the tears running down his face the next day when he picked up his bag that was supplied with a first aid kit, emergency rations, and two discreetly packed body bags.
He hadn't known Sara or Blake very well. Sure, they'd hung around a few times in the room that had been unofficially designated the lounge for those under 30, but he'd never gone out of his way to say 'hi' or ask how their day was going.
Not that the young soldier was going to convince himself into thinking that he wasn't the only one with such thoughts. Sure, Weir, Sheppard and the others had all known them on some level, mainly as subjects of pranks or discipline figures for when they were caught at it. But none were really that great of friends with them.
Now he was sorry he hadn't gone over and taken part in some of their pranks.
Carson Beckett closed the manila-tag folder containing the medical histories of the two missing hooligans. Not too many items – a few headache complaints from Donovan, a few broken bones on Forrester.
He tried to keep distant from patients, but when you're stranded in an entirely different galaxy together you'd think that you'd get to know the people around you better. But truth be told, the doctor was just realizing how little he knew about many of the people around him. Not just with these two, but with others. He just noticed at least eight people working in the med lab that he honestly couldn't remember having noticed before.
Each person knew him, said hello and inquired as to his health, as they most likely had every single day since they had all walked through that gate. He'd never noticed them; he didn't notice the people that didn't demand his attention, and they just flew merrily under his radar. Until they got sick, injured, or died.
That seemed to get his attention.
The Scotsman grunted in self-disgust and pushed the two small files away.
He decided that he wouldn't leave his office again today until he had read through the med files of each and every soul on Atlantis, and that he wouldn't rest until he had talked to each and every single one of them.