Stargate Atlantis: Even in the Distance
by Reyclou
Chapter Six: Crash and Burn
Pale blue lights fizzled intermittently as three figures crept through the dim halls of the city deep. Major Lorne balanced his attention between the machine gun in his one hand and the blocky, translucent Life Sign Detector in his other. He used the handheld device both to sense for living organisms and to detect fluctuations in the local power readings. Any significant concentration of power might indicate an active lab or control point in which the doctor might be hiding.
The two Pegasus natives flanked him on either side, each bearing their own weapon of choice. While they all felt a certain air of safety within the city walls, training and intuition begged them to take precaution. Their chances of running into a stowaway Genii spy or Wraith saboteur were miniscule, at best, but there was still too much they didn't understand about the city. None of them wanted to be caught off guard should their assumptions of safety prove false.
"It's dark down here," Ronon muttered, letting his blaster lead him past bare doorways and empty corridors. Lorne and Teyla nodded their unspoken agreement, shining weapon-mounted lights around the timeless halls. They had only come across a handful of working lights to guide their way, most of which only flickered in defiance at being awoken from their darkness. Ronon stalked cautiously, muscles coiled in anticipation, ready to pounce should the need arise. Lorne followed, studying his Lantean device while Teyla watched their backs from the barrel of her P-90.
When their path appeared clear, Lorne motioned them farther down the hallway. "Atlantis had a pretty nasty firefight with the Wraith before you joined up—three hive ships plus a few friends that came late to the party."
"So I heard," croaked the Runner.
"Well, the good guys won, at least," Lorne continued, almost disinterested. "But the city took some damage," he motioned around with a nod of his head. "A kamikaze pilot hit this sector pretty hard. Apparently, he didn't take out anything vital, so this area wasn't scheduled for repairs for another few months. He did knock out some of the sensor relays though, which is why we're having such a hard time pinpointing him," he took a moment to glance around burnt out lighting and dim alien walls. Black shadows cast by their lights danced across grey architecture. The city certainly felt different when one couldn't command the lighting. It felt more like a graveyard, or a catacomb. "My guess is Dr. McKay wanted to bury himself in as much work as possible," Lorne winced at his own pun. "And this place definitely needs a lot of work."
"If he doesn't want anyone around, why bother going after him?" Ronon asked. Whether he was eager to get back to the inhabited section of the city, or just annoyed at having to trail McKay, was unclear.
"Because he shouldn't be alone," Teyla responded, never taking her attention from the path behind. Her voice held a twinge of sorrow. "Especially given these unfortunate circumstances."
"Yeah, that and the whole ghost-in-the-computer thing is kinda creeping me out," Lorne added. "I'd like to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later."
The runner raised a brow. "You'd rather have McKay dancing around taking all the credit?"
"Yeah, basically," the major admitted. "Besides, if he doesn't know what's going on, he's the guy we need back in the Control Room," Lorne's eyes went to the Life Sign Detector as the small device let out a quick chirp. He again motioned the team on down the corridor. "I think we got something just down this hall here. Five doors down on the right."
Lorne pointed to a doorway some distance from their position. It wasn't difficult to discern the precise room he meant—light spilled out from the doorway, casting a long white rectangle across the dim corridor. The team grew silent, instinct forcing them to approach the room cautiously and quietly. As they crept up to the door, backs to the wall, Lorne made a few small motions to the Runner, directing him how to proceed. Ronon readied himself on the other side of the door. With a silent nod, the two men pivoted into the room, ready to fire on anything that moved.
Their drawn guns met only still silence.
"Dr. McKay?" Lorne tested, surveying the room for signs of movement. Sensing none, the team eased into the room. Atlantis had several control points and research sites scattered throughout the city, points at which the main database could be accessed without having to march all the way down to the main control room in the central spire. This one appeared no different from any other they had found before—a small room with several sensitive control panels skirting the room, two larger control banks placed at the center. A panel inset into the back of the room looked like it could have been a doorway, but it didn't look to have been used in quite some time. Large view screens hung here and there, though most hung inactive in slumber.
As Lorne and Ronon approached the central consoles, one of the panels flickered. The two stepped back in caution, turning their weapons on the device. Teyla watched from the doorway as the cold lighting of the Ancient technology blinked on, winked out and then hummed back to life. A moment later, arms appeared from behind the nearest control bank as Dr. Rodney McKay pulled himself up, grunting angrily. His frustrated expression faltered when his eyes landed on the small team.
"Oh, Major," he quipped, as if just registering their presence. Knowing McKay's knack for super-concentration, Lorne didn't entirely doubt it. "Took you long enough."
Lorne lowered his P-90, sighing away the tenseness in his muscles. Teyla and Ronon also lowered their guard. "You were expecting us?"
McKay nodded, pressing a few controls before sidestepping the lit panel in favor of the still-darkened controls of the second control bank. He did not bother to look up as he knelt next to the malfunctioning bank. His hands traced the smooth side for a moment before he lifted away a thin cover plate. Lantean systems ran on advanced crystal technology which accounted for their superior power and endurance. Rodney spoke quickly, confidently, but with sincere unconcern for the new arrivals as he pulled various interlocking crystals from the uncovered panel. "I lost a friend, Major, not my hearing. I heard you broadcast your instructions to the search teams," he carefully rearranged the crystals, his hands shaking with weariness as he replaced the crystals. "Still, I suppose I should feel honored you came looking."
"You heard everything and you still chose not to respond?" questioned the major.
"Sorry, Major. I guess I just got caught up in the moment." Having shed his team jacket, the physicist's clothes appeared a mess of dirt and sweat. His wrinkled grey shirt looked as if he had wiped dirtied hands with it several times. The radio in his ear, however, remained firmly in place.
"Rodney," Teyla spoke calmly as she stepped forward to look up and down his weary form. "Is everything all right?"
"Oh yes, fine, fine," he waved a dismissive hand. "Never been better," he diligently continued with his work. When the woman did not back off, he sighed and added a pointed. "Why?"
The woman's eyes widened slightly. Confusion passed over her features, but Rodney did not turn around. She shared a look with Lorne before turning her attention back to Rodney. "No one has seen you in over a day," she stated, as if the explanation should have been obvious.
"Well, here I am—perfectly fine," Rodney glared up for but a moment, offering the woman a forced smile. "You can tell Elizabeth I'm all right. Thank you and goodbye," he pressed curtly.
Teyla remained firm in her stance. "Dr. McKay, we would like it if you accompanied us back to the city."
"Nope. Sorry," he rearranged another crystal deep within the control bank. The panel above flickered to life. Rodney smiled—wide, self-gratifying, but short lived. He pulled himself up to his full height only to bend over the lighted controls. "Too much to do. Can't spare a minute."
Worry filled the Athosian's eyes as she noted the way the scientist swayed slightly. A man often lost his equilibrium when denied enough sleep. Ignoring her concern, he tapped a few buttons in frustration. "Rodney," she began again. "When was the last time you slept—or ate?"
"I took a nap, okay? What are you, my mother?" he spat back, slamming a fist on the controls. When the panel did not respond to his commands, his voice turned harsh, even coarse. "I'm telling you I'm perfectly fine, I jut need to get these consoles operational and I can't waste the time transporting back and forth from the commissary every couple of hours," he knelt again at the open panel, rummaging through the sensitive crystals.
"Why?" Lorne asked, suspicion in his voice. "What is so important about this Control Center?"
"Duh," Rodney sneered just long enough to level an icy glare on the major. "It's broken."
Lorne rolled his eyes. "We can see that, Doctor, but what's the rush?"
Rodney's face reddened in annoyance. He once again stood to try the controls. "Look, if you're not going to help, just get out of my way and stop distracting me!"
"Rodney, you're tired," Teyla soothed. "You need rest."
The scientist seemed to give up on the fickle controls, instead turning his bubbling anger on the threesome. "How can I rest when this whole blasted city is falling apart at the seams?" he barked, waving a hand at the architecture around him. "I mean, seriously, do you understand how much work it is going to take to get this sector back up and running again? I'll be lucky if my grandkids' grandkids can flip on a light switch!"
"Then let your friends help you," insisted the Athosian. "I am sure Dr. Weir will let you bring back another team…"
The Canadian's eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. He shook his head violently at the suggestion. "Nonono! No teams! I do not need Zelenka trying to blow up this place too!"
The major's head snapped up at that. "So you did short circuit the engine pod?"
Rodney paused a moment, mouth ajar in shock as if he had said something he had not meant to say. He muttered something to himself that no one quite caught. He spoke low, harshly, as if arguing with someone whom they could not hear. Straightening himself suddenly, he folded proud arms across his chest. "Yes," he stated, chin in the air. "And the Gate shield too. It's sad that I leave for a few hours and the whole city starts to implode, but then again, I guess it only proves how invaluable I truly am," with an air of superiority, he turned back to his control panel. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"
"We just want you to come back with us for a while—just to get some rest," Teyla pleaded softly. "Would you not like to eat something besides a Power Bar?" she asked, eyeing a pile of metallic wrappers discarded about the control room floor.
Rodney sighed, almost growling at the woman. "Look, the point I'm trying to make here is that I am a lot smarter than you and I say this sector should have been up and running yesterday. Now either fix something or leave me alone!" he fumed.
Lorne made a calming motion with his hand. "Whoa there, big guy. We're only trying to help you, remember?"
"Help?" Rodney squealed. "You think this is helping? You can't begin to understand the complexity of this city you… you…" he looked Lorne up and down with a sneer of indignation. "You hobbit!" he hissed. "I'm trying to piece back together the technology of the Ancients and you're telling me to…"
The scientist's snide banter cut short at the sound of a blaster pistol. A familiar red pulse hit him straight in the chest, numbing his body and shocking his mind into unconsciousness. Rodney's blue eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor without another word. Teyla and Lorne dove for his limp form as Ronon slipped his intimidating blaster back into its holster.
"Ronon!" Teyla hissed to the runner as she knelt down to Rodney's side. "Why did you do that?"
The Satedan turned his dark gaze on the woman. "Do you want to get him back to the Infirmary or not?" he muttered.
Unmoved, Teyla's scowl deepened. "Ronon! You did not need to shoot him!"
"He's right," Lorne grunted, checking to ensure the fallen man was indeed alive and well. Rodney's pulse felt fine, if sedated, and the major doubted there would be more than a few bruises to remind him of the fall. "Just call Doc Beckett and get a med team down here. Like Hell we're carrying him all the way back."
oOo
By the time Carson Beckett finished with his rounds, Elizabeth had already set up vigil at Rodney's bedside within his private room. She sat there, quietly working on her notebook computer, trying to form the words that had eluded her for the last two days, words that would become the hardest speech she would ever write—the eulogy of a close friend, an ally and an asset. The woman let out a defeated sigh at the irony of the term Eulogy. It meant good speech, but now she could not find the right things to say to honor the late colonel. Everything sounded awkward, rough and clumsy. Putting it aside for the moment, she rose as the doctor sailed through the room in his long white lab coat, concerned eyes never leaving his patient until he approached the tired woman.
"He's all right," Carson informed her in a low, comforting voice. "Exhausted, somewhat undernourished and a little dehydrated, but otherwise fine. A day or two of bed rest and a good meal should set him right again," the doctor sighed regretfully and ran a hand over his brow. "I knew I never should have given him that air cast in the first place. I should have given him the real thing—filled with as much lead as I could find. Aye, let's see him try to run off in one o' those contraptions!"
Elizabeth smiled at Carson's rant, imagining the scientist trying to limp away in a lead cast twice the size of his leg with Carson and a horde of medical aides storming after him, IV lines and stretchers at the ready. Her amusement proved contagious and Carson chuckled to himself lightly, though his smile faded as he looked back to the sleeping man.
"I've given him some sedatives to help him rest," he whispered warmly. "Knowing Rodney, his mind's probably kept him awake since…" Carson's eyes dropped. It seemed the whole world had stopped with John's heart.
"I didn't expect him to take it well," Elizabeth whispered, trying to offer some sort of smile or comforting facial gesture. "As much as they were at each other's throats, I think Sheppard and McKay were closer that any of us."
"Oh aye, I don't deny that. There's just something that still bothers me," Carson crossed his arms, watching as Rodney took shallow, steady breaths. McKay had only woken once since his team had brought him back, and even then he had only muttered a few incoherent moans. He still had yet to confess what he was doing down there all alone. "We all know McKay is one of the brightest minds in either galaxy, but he's also got one of the biggest mouths. Lowering the shield and short circuiting the overload were monumental feats to accomplish on such short notice—miraculous, even. So why didn't he tell anyone?"
"Maybe he's judging himself by a different standard," Weir offered quietly.
Carson tilted his head, neither accepting nor rejecting her statement. "You think he feels guilty about… about Colonel Sheppard?"
Elizabeth shrugged. "Well, he was injured during the attack. Maybe he's trying to make up for it, trying to prove himself or something?"
"By becoming Atlantis' personal guardian angel?" Carson questioned in a tone that hinted he didn't quite buy it.
"I suppose the position is open," Elizabeth whispered, though she had not meant to say it out loud. Carson smiled faintly at the thought, though he made to comment. He merely gave her shoulder a warm touch and nodded kindly to her.
"I'd best be moving on to other things, Elizabeth. We can sort this whole mess out when he wakes up. I doubt I can talk you into going back to your own quarters tonight, but I'd appreciate it if you at least tried to get some sleep tonight," he turned to leave. "Big day tomorrow," he added softly.
Elizabeth nodded, her heart sinking at the reminder. Tomorrow they would bury John. "Thank you, Carson," she replied, then smiled as he took his leave.
When Carson's white lab coat disappeared through the Lantean door, Elizabeth sank back into her seat. She picked up her laptop and set it on her knees, fervently typing to keep her mind occupied, but she could not write a commentary on a man's life without dredging up bittersweet memories. Elizabeth paused, fingers over the keyboard, thinking of an eventful day beneath Antarctic ice. The woman's eyes trailed from the screen back to the sleeping physicist who, for the first time in days, finally found the sleep they all deserved but could not gain. Slowly, Elizabeth clicked the monitor closed over the flat keypad. She hugged the thick plastic to her chest, cuddling it almost like a stuffed animal. Eyes closed, her head sunk down between her knees. Her tears lost to the silence of the sleeping infirmary. Silently, she wished for beach and ocean, soft winds and bright hazel.