Chapter 2: Rodney's POV

Spoilers: The Long Goodbye, Trinity

Beta: J.A.B.

Warnings: No clue about medical stuff and a little language.

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The tunnel was very, very interesting here on PXMK whatever they decided to designate this one. It was making my Ancient scanner do all kinds of pretty things with lights and graphs. My hands were practically itching in excitement and I had to rub each one on my jacket.

There was also some very interesting Ancient writing around the tunnel opening. It was something about 'growing the crops and cutting them down.' Really, could that be a bigger waste of time? Who cares about ancient Ancient crops?

I take some video of the writings for Elizabeth and then put the camera away—that's good for some points with her. But, what I really want is the thing that's making my scanner light up.

"What do you think, McKay?" asked Colonel Sheppard. He's standing next to me with an unreadable expression and wearing those shinny sunglasses he likes to wear to look all piloty every once in a while. I wonder if I could get some of those even though I'm not in the American military.

"What?" I've completely lost the thread of the conversation. I can't help it—the scanner blinked at me.

"That I've been here too long. That I've lost that . . . something that makes me different from men like Kavanagh. That I'm too mercenary now."

Oh, the manly bonding thing that demands we talk about feelings and stuff. "You're fine. I'm fine. Sure, we've done some things that might seem bad to outsiders, but we did it for Atlantis."

"Sure, for Atlantis," he responds, still not looking happy.

Great, now I have to put up with a sulking Air Force Colonel while I look for whatever is making the scanner go balistic. Really, he's sucking all the fun out of the search.

We enter the tunnel to see smooth walls in shadowed taupes and golds. It feels warm just from looking at the colors that show in our P-90 mounted lights.

One minute I'm running through what could be giving off the readings in the tunnel, and the next I hear a shuffle and I'm on the floor trying to suck air back into my lungs and find my equipment.

By the time I pushed myself up with my scanner and P-90 in hand, I'm primed—ready to unleash the famous McKay sarcasm upon Sheppard's sense of humor and boyish tendencies. Instead, I see blood and . . . and Sheppard is awkwardly sprawled against the wall, out like a used up ZedPM.

Sometimes, I don't think—I just do. Like the time Elizabeth and Sheppard were taken over and I blindly shot at Sheppard with his own 9 mil. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kill him, I just wasn't thinking.

I searched him over the best I could with my light, I saw a glinting metal blade sticking from his right thigh, and I just jerked it out. Me, the number one hypochondriac of the universe, touching fresh blood and doing something stupid—because if he wasn't bleeding before, he sure was now.

He . . . I'm . . . we're so screwed.

As I try for direct pressure while I straddle his right knee, I'm yelling for help. Anybody . . . I don't care if it's the Easter Bunny right now that answers my call.

Of course, Sheppard picks now to wake up, making my job harder and easier. Harder because I have to hurt him more, and easier because—yes! He is still alive after his obvious ignorant pushing stunt.

Sheppard's trying to look at the damage, but he doesn't need to see it right now. Besides, I have a bandage and my hands covering it all except for the leaking blood.

"Direct pressure is not working, people! I've got a lot of blood here," I holler into the radio. No response.

When Sheppard speaks, it's low and weak. It's my name and I'm relieved he's oriented enough to know me. I tell him not to move and then I shift for the pressure point in his groin.

God, the jokes he's going to make later.

I make a strangled noise in response when he grunts in pain, and I babble an apology. And then . . . he tries to calm me down. While he's laying there bleeding, he's trying to make me feel better by telling me it's okay.

I just push harder on the pressure point. It seems to be working well enough for me to stop concentrating on the blood to feel Sheppard shudder.

I'm already close to him, hey, I am straddling his leg and pressing on his groin, but maybe I can give him a little warmth since I'm sweating now, so I move in closer.

"Elizabeth! Teyla! Ronon! Where the hell is everyone? Carson?"

Of course, there is still no answer. Great. I know Teyla and Ronon are down near the puddle jumper, supposedly guarding it against capture. Elizabeth and Carson I'm calling just in case the gate is open for the regular check in time.

"Are you happy now?" I asked the pale man under me, my voice shaking from my efforts. No, I'm not . . . worried. Yet.

Sheppard seems to not know what I'm talking about. His hazel eyes stare at me blankly and I almost prompt him when his expression changes. Blank to strangely pleased in a second flat.

"Yes," he says, his eyes now warm through the pain. "Happy . . . it wasn't you."

Of all the . . .

"Idiot," I whisper, angry and scared as I press harder against his pressure point, just so I won't smack him across his thick head. "Arrogant, stupid, dense, American idiot. It shouldn't have been you, either."

Sheppard seems amused or bemused, I can't tell in the dim light of the tunnel, when my radio hisses.

Help, help is coming! Finally!

And then I feel Sheppard's body relax and that scares me more. "Sheppard! Carson's coming with his team. Just hold on a little longer!" I know I'm almost screaming, but I can't help it. He can't give up now, not when Carson is coming.

"Good," said Sheppard, just a puff of air from his lips, his eyes still open. "See . . . you."

It sounds like a goodbye, but it isn't. That is the cocky flyboy coming out for me to see. To reassure me that he was planning on making it to Atlantis and to show the trust he has in me.

Something I thought I'd never see again after I blew up that solar system.

"Sure, I'll see you back in the infirmary. I don't want to miss Carson ripping you a new one for this little stunt." Even as I said it, I wished we were there right now. He wasn't looking good.

He nodded and closed his eyes. He started to slowly slide on the wall and I took a moment to prop him up with my left shoulder while trying to not let up on the pressure point.

"Rodney!"

That wasn't over the radio. It's Carson, finally here.

"Carson! Down here, and watch the tunnel. Something happened to Sheppard in here."

I heard Carson's accented voice talking to whoever was with him and then a light came toward us in the tunnel. I heard the clatter of equipment and then Carson knelt down beside me and put a hand on my tense shoulder.

"How is he?"

And I let my babble bubble to the surface.