It was amazing how much bark chipped away after four good swings. And of course one tiny piece flew into his eye. "Shit!" He covered it with his palm, bent double, and stomped. "Shit! SHIT!" The only thing left to do was to bellow to the approaching darkness, "THIS ISN'T THE LEAST BIT FAIR!" and take a seat in the mud. The storm answered with another clap of thunder.
At least he was no longer soaked from sweat. Maybe his stink would go away.
The rain washed the bark from his eye, but it stung, and he could feel puffiness. Everything around him greyed in sheets of water. There was no way he would be able to find his way about, not in this, and that angered him more. Not that he was finding his way in the first place. Maybe he should have joined that scout troop after all. He voiced his own version to the trees around him.
"Eight basic needs for offworld survival. One, don't drink the water. Two, don't eat the food, bring your own. Well, I lost on both of those counts. Come to think of it, sound like visiting South America. Always thought those Mayans were aliens." He ran his hand over his hair, pressing the water out. "Actually, I think those people still are. Probably migrated to Alabama or something." He flicked his hand. "Married their cousins. That would explain it. They weren't marrying their cousins, they were marrying inside their own race." His face relaxed into thought. "Explains a bit about Canada too, really. Huh." A smile formed. "I never realized that." There was a static pop right in front of him, and an explosion of sound. Rodney tried to become one with the tree behind him. "Enough already! I thought rainforests just got rain, goddammit!" He was never a scout, but he knew now that staying underneath the tree was definitely a bad idea.
Another clap of thunder and the creak of a falling tree reminded him.
It took some time to find the small cave. He fell asleep as soon as he sat, curling miserably around himself.
John's face was upturned to the rain. His eyes were closed tight, and he allowed the droplets to pour over him. His worry was mounting, his fatigue growing, and the light was failing. He knew, after hours of searching, that the best thing to do would be to return to the village and Misner Caugh, and see if Rodney had returned. He wasn't holding out much hope in regards to Rodney's sense of direction, without a scanner in his hand he was pretty much useless when it came down to picking a direction and following it. Like in the puddlejumper, where he refused to fly a straight line, his senses mirrored his own innate desire to be in the center of everything, even if it meant pursuing it. This and his insatiable curiosity were the sole two reasons his mind worked faster than his mouth, and neither ever stopped. He would no doubt have the single minded objective of finding his way back . . . if he weren't distracted.
Sheppard slapped a wet leaf away from his face as he walked, taking his own trail-blazed path back to the village. His socks were soaked. His shoes would squelch if he could hear them. His shirt stuck to his back underneath his vest, which of course, was sodden. At least the inner lining was waterproof; the zipped pockets hadn't allowed any moisture in. Yet. Now if he took a tumble into the river below, it would be a different story.
Had Rodney tumbled into the river?
His voice rose against the thunder, hoarse with yelling. "Rodney? Dammit, answer me!" There was no reply, not that he could hear one. A spark of lightning had him ducking for cover as the tree above him split. The vibration jarred his bones, and it was pure luck that he charged towards another tree as the first one fell, the thick trunk inches from him.
He slid his back down the rough bark of the tree left standing, gasping for breath while telling himself that he should not be where he was, in a thunderstorm. Especially not one of this magnitude. It reminded him of the hurricane that nearly took out his city. Vicious stuff.
He pushed to his feet and took off toward the village before the next bolt could strike.
"Ma'am, I understand what you're saying, but. . ."
"The answer's no, Lieutenant. I'm sorry. But John asked that you remain here until further notice, and after seeing what happened, I'm inclined to agree with him."
He noticed her use of military term, rather than calling him "Aiden", which showed just how serious she was. He didn't give a shit. "Doctor," Ford imitated her formality as he leaned over her desk, "Dr. McKay is missing. Don't you care about that?" It was a low blow, but it was the only option left available to him.
Her eyes burned into his, and he knew his last available option was a really bad one. "I'm going to ignore the fact that you just implied that I don't care about my people," she said in a low voice. "You know I do, which is why, for the moment, you're staying here. When Major Sheppard reports back, I will send help, if and when he requests it. Right now he wants to make certain the situation is secure without people rushing in and out of the gate." Her expression was stone. "Is that understood?"
Ford didn't like it. But he respected Dr. Weir, and the decision of his commanding officer. So with a stiff nod, he complied.
He now had several options open to him. One, work out. Two, go to the infirmary to check on his teammate. Three . . .work out.
His quarters looked as they should for someone his age. Messy. There was no military precision here, only the evidence of a young man in a strange place trying desperately to call it home. His belongings were few, but the room screamed Aiden, from the rumpled sheets to the basketball in the corner. Fitting it into his pack had been a bitch and a half, he actually had to deflate it and con one of the jumper's new maintenance crew to borrow an air pump. Of course the needle was too large, so he had to go to Bobbs in the engineering lab for a rigged replacement. All in all, it took a full day to inflate the basketball, but time well worth the effort. He remembered holding his breath as Bobbs started the massive pump, praying the sudden rush of air wouldn't pop his beloved reminder of earth. Dribbling down the halls of Atlantis was a thrill. The makeshift basketball court kept him sane.
He needed that court now. The last time he played had been before the hive ships were first spotted. He put on a brave face, but after his shift had taken to the court and played hoops to the point of passing out. It was a great distraction.
And even though McKay wasn't the best of friends, far from it, he felt the need for a distraction. Maybe it was because his commander was on a world, alone. Maybe he felt larger things coming his way. Maybe he had a feeling that Aiden Ford was about to grow up.
He kept playing.
Rodney winced and tried to stretch. His muscles and joints ached in protest, his back popped painfully, his feet were numb. He grunted and pulled himself to a seated position, wincing at the effects of middle age on his body. There was no way he should be feeling like this. Sure, he wasn't the perfect picture of health, but he did well enough. Forcing a knee up, he knelt over and unlaced a boot, yanking it off and shaking it. He massaged his foot though the damp sock, then peeled it off. His foot seemed abnormally white, even for his fair complexion. "Too wet, too long," he muttered and rubbed at the puckered skin. "Probably get some kind of alien fungal infection and have my toes fall off." He checked himself. "Well, McKay, that's a pleasant thought. Thanks for that. Yeah. Okay." He pulled the sock back on, ignoring the cold, rather sickening sensation, and laced his boot. Now he had one lukewarm foot and one freezing one.
Wonderful.
He stood slowly, arching backward, groaning and wincing the entire time. He continued his personal tirade as he slumped forward, his shoulders sagging. The sun was out, thankfully, at least he would dry off. Despite his illness, he was feeling a bit hungry. "Well. Guess I could eat a root." He glanced around, then bent down and plucked a radish-looking plant from the ground. He cleaned off the dirt as much as possible, then tossed it over his shoulder. "Who am I kidding?" He looked up. "So I didn't join Scouts Canada, all right? Sue me! They were collecting nuts for badges while I was building goddamn explosives for profit!" A wry look passed over his face as he took in his surroundings. "And which would I rather have right now, huh?" The best thing to do would simply be to walk. His stomach seemed better. Yeah. Walk.
And walk.
And walk.
After two hours of walking, he discovered another cave. The day was hot, and his own sweat prevented any chance of his drying off. He was gummy, smelly, and utterly miserable. Yelling at the jungle had done nothing, yelling at Sheppard had done nothing, yelling for Sheppard had done nothing. And dammit, he had to sit again. So he wormed his way into the cave, and found his own markings.
Well. . .shit.
And to top it off, the sky was darkening with clouds once again.
Rodney could do nothing more than walk out and lean against the large boulder that sat to the right of the opening. Now that he looked around, he recognized the place. "Fatigue must've dulled my senses. Either that or the heat's frying my brain."
It didn't dull his reaction time. He heard a footfall, and a crackle. Hiding was second nature to him, and he ducked behind the boulder. No way was he going into that cave to be trapped by an animal. He reached down and picked up a rock, and crouched, waiting, trembling. The next thing that happened caused him to drop the rock in astonishment. "McKay?" the familiar voice said. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Major!" Rodney stood, his eyes wide as saucers, and glanced behind him before stepping out of his hiding place. He rubbed his hands uncertainly on his grungy shirt. "What the . . ." he looked behind him, suddenly questioning reality, "how did you find me?"
"The rank smell of fear," Sheppard smirked, and crossed his arms over the upended butt of his P90. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He patted his chest absent-mindedly. "You?"
"Me? I haven't been lost in the jungle. Thought maybe you got eaten by an iguana or something."
"Really? Have you seen one?" He felt a nervous jump in his stomach.
"No. Doesn't mean they aren't out here though, and hungry." Sheppard smiled. "Let's head back, huh?"
"Sure. Uh, you know the way?" The look Sheppard gave him was all he needed. "Right. Dumb question." He fell into step behind the major, trying to assume a posture of dignity.
"So what the hell happened out there?" Sheppard asked, leading the way.
"Where?"
Sheppard looked back and rolled his eyes.
"Oh, that. Hell if I know. Lots of screaming, people running, I was nearly trampled to death!" His gaze ran up and down John's body. "Where were you? What about the others?"
"They're back on the station, where I would be if you hadn't tried your disappearing act. Come on."
"Well, excuse me for engaging in a such an outrageous act of self-preservation!" Rodney huffed. Sheppard said nothing. "They're okay though, right?"
"What do you care?" The response was tossed out as a dismissal. "You ran off."
Rodney stumbled and use the motion as a good reason to stop. That, and he wasn't sure he heard what he thought he heard. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me."
"I wasn't so sure! Look, admittedly I was trying to save my ass, who wouldn't? Not to mention, they were practically forcing me out, I couldn't of gone back if I tried!"
"Which you didn't." Sheppard had stopped as well, and faced him squarely. "You didn't even look back, I bet. I bet you just ran as fast as you could."
Rodney folded his arms. "Are you trying to get me to admit to something?"
"What, that you're a fucking coward? We knew that already." Sheppard turned and shoved the large leaves aside in irritation.
"Whoa, wait, waitwaitwait!" Rodney charged ahead and grabbed Sheppard by the arm, wincing as the other man spun and pulled away. "That's a bit crass, isn't it? I mean, coming from you. What's with you, anyway? Something happen to the trade agreement?"
The eyes that met his frightened him, and he suddenly felt like he was holding on to the horn of a bull ready to charge. "What's with me," Sheppard replied in a low voice, sharp as splintered bone, "is you abandoned us. We were lying on the ground, people running on top of us, and you turned tail and fled." He shook his head in disgust, and disappointment.
"I – I'm sorry! Honest, I . . ." Rodney stammered, his hands reaching out to physically offer his apology. "It happened so fast, I didn't realize, I mean I didn't think . . ."
"That's obvious. Let's go." Sheppard stormed off. He didn't even wait for Rodney to follow him.