AN: I'd like to take a moment to thank my two reviewers: Irresistibly desired and Mackenise Jackson. You guys made my day. Really! I came home, tired from work, and when I read your comments, I just felt the irresistable urge to rework this part a bit (made it twice as long as it originally was...) before posting it. Hope you continue to like it... I really appreciate your feedback. Because up till now, I had no idea if I was doing things the wrong way, and I can only improve if you hand me some pointers...

AN2: Thanks to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocurfor some spelling mistakes have now been fixed.

3. Dawn

-

Sadness flies on the wings of the morning
and out of the heart of darkness comes the light.

- Jean Giraudoux

-

"Dr. Weir, we have a problem!"

The breathless voice suddenly erupting from their radios made John's heart skip a beat. Again.

John looked on sympathetically as Elizabeth's shoulders sagged even further. "Yes, doctor Trey?"

"Power levels at the east pier are dropping steeply. If we don't find a way to stop the power from leaking, that section is in serious danger of flooding!" The panic in the scientist's voice was obvious, and in the background John could discern the anxious babbling of some of his colleagues.

"The east pier too?" Elizabeth whispered quietly, not questioning dr. Trey's assessment but rather requesting an explanation from whatever Higher Power had decided to besiege them with this seemingly endless chain of disasters that had started with the grievous loss of their chief scientist.

Another voice mingled in the conversation, this one haughty and annoyed, and for a second John's heart leapt up. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Trey. We've been experiencing disturbing power fluctuations all day already. The east pier is only a recent but relatively minor addition to an already huge problem. At this rate, it's only a matter of hours before Atlantis is back on the bottom of the sea…"

But no further comment was forthcoming. No brilliant scheme to save their buts again.

John's heart plummeted back down, settling too heavy in his chest again.

Kavanaugh was no McKay. Although they both shared the egocentrical 'I'm light years smarter than you' attitude, in John's eyes only McKay had earned the right to behave like that. Because he was a frickin' genius. Had been.

Rodney would have made a snarky comment too. But at least he would have spouted off a series of clipped commands right thereafter, which in some bizarre way had always calmed the other scientists and galvanised them into life-saving actions. His overconfident tone of voice would leave no room for doubt and effectively stop the others from –as his Inner Rodney smoothly supplied - 'wasting perfectly valuable time coming up with well-meant but eventually utterly useless ideas'.

Which was exactly what they were doing at this very moment.

John mentally shook his head at the cross-fire of scientific techno-babble that had erupted over the radio. Kavanaugh's nasal voice was easily identifiable amongst the ruckus, and John asked himself how he could possibly ever have thought it had been Rodney's, if even for a second.

Unbidden, a memory of better times floated lazily into his mind. One night, after their customary sunset-watch, he and Rodney had been ambling their way over to the commissary for an evening snack, as usual keeping up an easy friendly banter along the way. Until something had effectively shocked them into silence.

Rodney hadn't commented at all, hadn't even uttered a single word, which was a highly unusual situation for his loquacious persona. Instead, he had turned on his heels and rushed to the nearest transporter so fast John was sure the skid marks were still marring the corridor's floor. Only when John had caught up with him and the transporter's doors were safely closed, he finally allowed his tight facial muscles to relax.

And had fallen into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, that had tears of mirth streaming from his eyes and his knees buckle so he had crashed into John, holding his aching sides for dear life. It turned out that Rodney McKay's laughter was highly contagious, as it soon had doubled John up with laughter too. They must have presented quite a silly picture there, writing on the floor of a transporter, gasping desperately for breath.

Rodney had been the first to actually get back some measure of dignity. But the twinkle of merriment had still been dancing in his clear blue eyes as he had looked at John. "Did you see that? That was beyond hilarious… God, I wish I had had my camera with me…"

"See what?" John had managed to choke out. "Actually I barely saw Kavanaugh standing in his door opening before you tore off like the devil was chasing you!"

Rodney had given him a crooked grin, his eyes still twinkling full force. "You didn't see the best part then… Kavanaugh wasn't actually standing casually in his door opening, he was more like desperately leaning out of it, trying to reach for the door's control panel. All the while trying to keep the fabric of his trousers - which our self-proclaimed genius has apparently managed to get stuck between the closed door in some obscure way I so do not want to know the details of - anyway, trying to keep it from ripping apart even further…"

John's eyes had widened at the implied meaning, and he had been feeling a new fit of laughter bubbling up "Further?"

Rodney had smiled broadly: "Let's say it was first quarter on an unclouded night."

In the end, they had needed all of 5 minutes to take a perfectly functioning transporter to the commissary, and had gotten suspicious looks from Carson when they had told the eagle-eyed doctor that their acute shortness of breath was merely the result of a very rigorous work-out. The unusual grin that would suddenly appear on Rodney's face in the days thereafter had frightened many of his ignorant co-workers.

Yes, those had been the days…

God, how he missed that crooked grin and their shared mirth.

Before he could sink any deeper into the pool of misery he was wading into, Elizabeth's 'command voice' broke up the argument that was still going on loudly over the radio. "Silence, please!"

Sure she now had the full attention of everyone, she continued in a softer yet still strict voice. "Keep on trying to find out what is causing those power fluctuations…"

She was cut off rather abruptly by a frustrated Kavanaugh: "Dr. Weir, we have been doing just that all night, and quite frankly we have run out of ideas. We cannot trace it back to any hardware malfunctioning and the Atlantean interface system is no great help either!"

John couldn't quite prevent a small grin from creeping up his face as his Inner Rodney dryly remarked 'That's because you're entirely too daft to properly understand the simplicity of Atlantean door controls, never mind the vastly more complex intricacies of the power generating units…'

Elizabeth didn't notice, as she was currently using all her concentration to try and calm down the frightened scientists. Finally, she turned to her acting head of the science staff. "Dr. Kavanaugh, please inform me of our options?"

Kavanaugh sounded slightly hysterical as he pressed his point: "We cannot hope to save the city, dr. Weir, we should start evacuating to the alpha-site right now! As a matter of fact, I suggest I take one of the first jumpers to set up some preliminary arrangements and as a member of the senior staff coordinate the evacuation from there."

'Coward!' John's mind screamed loudly. Rodney would never even have contemplated leaving the city to fend for itself until the very last resort. He had been prepared to sit out a monster storm in the hopes of pulling off a daring and doubtlessly dangerous plan.

The fight seemed to have left Elizabeth. "Fine, dr. Kavanaugh, you will be in charge of the evacuation."

"Fine, Kavanaugh out." The bastard sounded awfully smug as he signed off, John seethed quietly.

Elizabeth sighed and spoke into her microphone again. "Dr. Kusanagi, how is the rescue mission coming along?"

A squeaky little voice answered frustratedly, the Asian accent thickened by obvious distress: "We can't find signal, dr Weir. We try to broaden range of sensors, but interface not working properly!"

Elizabeth closed her eyes wearily, but the small Japanese doctor wasn't quite finished yet: "With permission, dr. Weir, my team wish not evacuate until last moment. We continue searching for signal as long as possible…"

Elizabeth's green eyes looked up at John's, and he saw a deep gratitude, and the tiniest spark of hope within. It didn't particularly surprise him that Kusanagi's impromptu created 'team' consisted of exactly those scientists that had worked most often with Rodney in the past. Apparently, not only Rodney's laughter had been contagious.

"All right, keep trying. We need to get that team home safely…" She said encouragingly.

What she really meant, John figured, was 'Get Zelenka back on Atlantis to solve this mess before the waves close in over our heads!'…

John himself would gladly give up an arm if it could bring the wild-haired Czech genius back. But there was simply nothing he could do, and it frustrated him to no end. There was really no one here on Atlantis who could do anything. This time they were in way over their heads. This time, there was no McKay to make the impossible happen.

He sorely missed the Canadian's boundless energy, his exuberant confidence and his lightening quick mind. They all did. John sighed. Guess it took losing him to appreciate how truly blessed they had been before. How easy was it now to overlook his flaws, to look past the snarkiness and arrogance and see the wonderfully complicated person behind.

But it seemed Fate had finally caught up with Rodney McKay. Had finally made him pay for all the many times he had defied her.

Although John had no second guesses about not jumping of the balcony, he now acutely felt it had merely been a matter of delayed execution. And as he berated himself for loosing hope, he silently begged for Rodney's forgiveness for giving up so easily. God knows the scientist had been too bloody stubborn to let anything stop him from accomplishing his self-appointed mission of saving the day.

A shrill alarm shattered his thoughts.

Lights flitted within their naquada encasing.

A wormhole sprung to live, bright and vibrating with life.

"Unscheduled off-world activation."

John followed at Elizabeth's heel as she rushed into the control room, his gut feeling warning him that this latest threat would be their undoing.

Never in his life had he been so ecstatic about being wrong.

Nothing on earth could compare with the tingling anticipation he felt at the gate technician's mystified voice: "Receiving an IDC. It's dr. McKay's…"

Elizabeth looked equally startled, but the sceptic look growing on her face made John act swiftly. Her outcry only fuelled the spark inside him "No, Major, it can't be! It's a trick!" But before she managed to push him away from the control panel and reactivate the shield, the wormhole had already disgorged its traveller.

Nothing in two galaxies could compare with the glorious relief he felt when he skipped down the gate room stairs.

Their unbidden visitor looked absolutely horrible, liberally coated with mud, blood and a particularly venomous shade of green goo John didn't even want to identify. His clothes were in tatters and there was absolutely no telling what their original state had been. His face was completely unrecognizable behind the mask of dirt, but the clear vibrant blue eyes told John more than any DNA test.

And nothing, absolutely nothing on this plane of existence could remotely compare with the joy he felt when hugging his best friend close.

At first, Rodney was stiff and unresponsive, but he slowly started to relax and lean into the hug. Until John suddenly noticed he himself was now bearing most of the Canadian's weight. Slowly, he sank to the floor, gently cradling the now limp body. Weary blue eyes smiled up at him before fluttering shut. A sob from behind him made him look up, for the first time noticing Elizabeth standing there pale and trembling.

Her lips formed a word her vocal cords refused to utter, but John read easily. 'Rodney'

And he gave her his biggest grin, the one that held a power unmatched even by 3 ZPMs.

He was only vaguely aware of panicked voices demanding help over the radio. He no longer had no hope. Rather the opposite, he felt he could easily take on the entire wraith armada single-handedly at his moment.

Because, who was he to despair?

Rodney had returned to them.

How was not important at this moment.

Just that he had.

That he had made the impossible reality after all.

Saving Zelenka and his team, and preventing Atlantis from sinking seemed small insignificant feats in comparison to returning from the death.

John was fully confident Rodney would fix it.

And of course he eventually did.

Saved yet another day...

AN: You didn't really think I'd let Rodney die, did you? Or well, I would have him die and come back to life right thereafter (defibrillators come in really handy...), but my stories never -ever- have a truly 'bad ending'. Speaking about endings, I will try to post the fourth and last part tomorrow evening (Belgian time, that is).