It was sometime in the middle of the night when Ronon realized Sheppard's eyes were open. Ronon had been dozing, but slowly became aware of hazel eyes gazing dully into the dying fire at their side.

"Sheppard?" Ronon sat up and leaned over, laying his hand gently on Sheppard's chest.

The man's eyes slowly moved from the fire to Ronon's face.

"Ronon?" he said weakly.

"It's ok, buddy," Ronon said. "Try not to move."

"What … happened?"

Sheppard lifted his right hand, reaching blindly for the bolt in his left shoulder. Ronon caught his hand quickly and was surprised at the lack of strength in Sheppard's arm.

"Don't touch it," he warned. He indicated towards Sheppard's left side. "You got shot. I can't get it out without it … exploding."

"Exploding?" Sheppard's voice suddenly became more awake and alert, and he blinked, trying to see the damage.

"Yeah. I got three out, but the one in your shoulder is in too deep. We need special equipment."

Sheppard shifted, looking uncomfortable. "I can't move my left arm."

Concerned, Ronon reached over and lifted the man's left arm. His hand hung limp, fingers unmoving. Sheppard stared at the dead limb, then grimaced. He pulled his left knee up, slowly and with apparent effort.

"I can move my left leg," he gasped. "Barely. Something's wrong."

Ronon dropped his arm and gently pulled up Sheppard's shirt to look at the wound above his hip. Dark streaks underneath the skin spread out from under the bandage in spider-like fingers. Swallowing, he looked at Sheppard.

"I think it's poisoned," he said.

"Dammit," Sheppard cursed softly, his head dropping back heavily as he closed his eyes, face tight with pain.

"Can you walk?"

Sheppard opened his eyes, blinking, testing his limbs again. "Not sure. I can't feel anything on my left side."

Ronon nodded. "I guess that's a good thing." He gestured to the bolt in Sheppard's shoulder again. "This one's in pretty deep."

Sheppard struggled to push himself up and Ronon wordlessly grabbed his right hand and pulled him up, helping him turn to lean against the rock and face the fire. His hand felt impossibly hot. The movement seemed to drain all the strength from Sheppard's body as his face turned white. His eyes went glassy as he gasped for breath, small, short intakes of air that didn't sound natural.

"Sheppard?" Ronon asked, shaking the man gently.

Sheppard blinked, eyes struggling to focus. "Sorry," he gasped. "Blacked out for a second. Give me a minute."

Ronon looked at the dark sky outside. "We don't need to move yet. It's night. There are two ways in. I can cover both."

Shaking his head, Sheppard reached for the gun strapped to his thigh, checking that it was still there. "No, you can't. Not all night."

Ronon raised an eyebrow at him. "I've been in worse situations."

Sheppard chuckled. "I'm sure you have."

"We wait til morning," Ronon continued. "I don't know this area. There's too much that could happen in the dark. I need you alert and ready to fire if needed."

"Where's my P90?"

Ronon reached behind him and settled the gun in Sheppard's lap.

Outside, the wind was picking up, but with it, another strange sound accompanied the howl. It sounded like pebbles falling down a cliffside.

"Is that …" Sheppard cocked his head.

Ronon stood and strode to the nearest opening, peering out at the darkening sky.

"Rain."

Sheppard frowned. "I thought this was a desert planet."

"What about those hoodoos?" Ronon asked, coming back to Sheppard's side. He suddenly grew concerned that Sheppard didn't remember their conversation about the flooding from earlier. "Aren't they caused by flash floods?"

"Dammit," Sheppard cursed again. "It looked like it flooded here recently, too."

"Think it'll rain enough to flood again?"

Sheppard shook his head. "No idea. But I guess we're stuck here until morning anyway." He pulled his jacket more firmly around him with his one working arm and shivered slightly.

Ronon poked at the small fire he had made, stirring the flames. He had found various dry scrubs and bushes around the cave entrance and inside. Hopefully they would have enough to last the night as the temperature had dropped significantly.

He glanced at Sheppard, worried as he saw the shivering build. The man's body was radiating heat and he was looking more flushed than before. If the bolts were poisoned then it was fast acting. He was probably developing a fever. Was if possible to get an infection on top of a poisoning? Or was an infection a result of poisoning? He wasn't sure as he wasn't a doctor, but whatever Sheppard's body was going through it wasn't good, and they were going to need to get to the Stargate as soon as possible.

Sheppard had slid down a little against the rock, shivering noticeably now. He closed his eyes, a pained look on his face.

"You ok?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard gasped for breath, keeping his eyes tightly shut. "No …" he admitted weakly. "Something … something's wrong. I can't … I can't …."

And then Ronon realized that he had mistaken the shivering. He was starting to seize.

Sheppard's head knocked against the rock behind him as his body stiffened and hands tightened into awkward fists. Ronon quickly knocked the P90 out of the way, grabbing the man by the vest and lowering him to the ground.

"Sheppard! Hey hey hey … Easy now …" Ronon rode out the convulsion with Sheppard, pressing his body to the floor and trying to keep him from hurting himself. He knew that there was nothing else he was able to do beyond wait and pray that nothing he did would activate the deadly bolt in his shoulder.

Long, terminable moments later, the convulsions began to subside, leaving both Sheppard and Ronon covered in a sheen of sweat. Sheppard's skin now felt cold to the touch, a stark contrast from the heat from before, and he was completely unconscious. Ronon gently moved him closer to the fire and placed his jacket under the man's head. It was rare that he had seen a man suffer from a convulsion, and he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do to prevent another from happening or to help Sheppard recover. The last convulsion he had seen was ironically with Sheppard himself, and that one had ended in the man flatlining. But Doctor Beckett had been there with his medical equipment. And ultimately, everything was fine.

Cursing as he kept one eye on Sheppard and one on the entrances to the cave, Ronon began to go through the man's vest, looking for medical equipment. Finding only field bandages, he moved on to their packs. He found a bottle of pills for pain and an antibiotic salve which he tore open and moved back to Sheppard, pulling up his shirt again and gingerly removing the bandage above his hip. Underneath, the wound was definitely red and streaked with black.

"Not good," he shook his head. Carefully applying the salve, he then covered the wound again and moved to Sheppard's shoulder. Gently applying what he could around the bolt, he then sat back, not knowing what else he could do.

Outside, the heavy patter of rain continued, gradually turning into a roar. Ronon was afraid to look outside at what he might find. The air was changing from dry to humid, from warm to cold and damp. In the early hours of the morning, he finally dared to look out, finding the sky grey and uninviting, and the landscape entirely changed.

"Did it rain?"

Turning back from the entrance, he saw Sheppard weakly lifting his head, skin pale and clammy.

He came back to Sheppard's side, kneeling down, his face grave.

"It did more than rain."

Sheppard swallowed. "Tell me."

"The entire landscape is flooded."

"What?"

"Looks like a flash flood or something. Came down from the mountains with the rain overnight."

"And the 'gate?" Sheppard asked weakly.

Ronon hesitated before shaking his head. "I have no idea how we're going to get to the 'gate."

"Damn." Sheppard closed his eyes. "Atlantis isn't expecting us back for another five days."

"Four," Ronon corrected him. "You've been out all night."

"What?" Sheppard's eyes snapped open.

Ronon indicated Sheppard's shoulder. "I think it's poisoned. You had a seizure. Didn't wake up after that."

Sheppard muttered something under his breath that Ronon didn't catch, then shifted, grimacing. "We have to do something. We can't sit here."

Ronon sat back on his heels, grimly eyeing his CO. The man did not know how to stay put. He was full of action, and Ronon was sure that his immobility was killing him. While Ronon and Sheppard were as alike as brothers in some senses, he also knew that although he was itching to move and do something about the problem, Sheppard was far from fit to make the trek to the Stargate, let alone swim as it looked like they might have to do.

Trying to push himself up with his one good arm, Sheppard got halfway before collapsing weakly back against the rock. Ronon made no move to help, his point made without any words said.

"So we're screwed," Sheppard gasped.

"Well, you're screwed," Ronon replied with a wry grin.

"Dammit, Ronon," Sheppard gritted out angrily. He grasped at his left arm which still flopped uselessly at his side, pulling it across his chest. "Help me tie my arm. It's useless anyway."

Ronon saw what he wanted and helped him fashion a sling, tying the arm to his body where it wouldn't swing uncontrollably. The flesh was still warm, as were the fingers, but Sheppard insisted he couldn't feel a thing when Ronon pressed the tip of his knife into each finger and joint, all the way to the shoulder.

"The only thing that's worrying me," Sheppard gasped after they found that he could feel the knife halfway across his chest, "is that this paralysis might be getting worse."

"Worse?"

"Yeah," Sheppard coughed. "Like … it's getting harder to breathe."

That comment strengthened Ronon's resolve. What had Beckett told them? Breathing was an important part of survival. If someone was injured and struggling to breathe then it was bad. Real bad.

"Alright." Ronon sat back. "I'm gonna go for the 'gate. I'll leave you with supplies and enough wood to keep the fire going."

Sheppard shook his head, right hand gripping Ronon's wrist. "I'm not gonna last that long, buddy."

Ronon looked at Sheppard and saw that he was right. Sheppard would never admit weakness unless it was bad, and this was really, really bad. The man was as white as a sheet, and his pulse was throbbing visibly in his neck - way too fast. His breath was coming a bit faster now, and though he was trying to hide it, Ronon could hear the faint, wet rattle deep in his chest.

Cursing all the gods he knew, Ronon scrubbed his face with his hand, looking around the cave as though its stone walls could offer some answers.

"Let me take another look outside," he finally said, at a loss. It was lighter now, and it looked like the sun had come up as a few rays found their way through the rocks into the darkness within.

Standing on the ledge outside of the cave, Ronon surveyed the watery landscape. The hoodoos served as strange giant stepping stones scattered across the surface of the brown, murky water which now covered the land as far as the eye could see. A few cliffs rose higher out of the waters, and Ronon could see the mountains in the distance that they had never quite made it to.

He had to scramble further up the rocks to look in the direction of where the Stargate would be, and with despair, he realized that the water covered the land in all directions. Even if he managed to swim from hoodoo to hoodoo back in the direction they had come from there was no chance he could make it to the 'gate in time to save Sheppard. There was also the good chance that the waters had covered the Stargate, in which case no rescue would be coming anyway.

Cursing more than he felt he had ever cursed in his life, Ronon climbed back down into the cave to rejoin Sheppard. The man eyed him, saying nothing, and Ronon knew that the look on his face might have said everything.

"That bad, huh?" Sheppard said softly.

"Biggest flood I've ever seen," Ronon admitted. "Not sure if I made it to the 'gate if it would even be working."

"How deep?"

Ronon shrugged. "Ten meters. Roughly."

Sheppard closed his eyes, wincing. Ronon knew he was trying not to show how bad he really felt.

"We're gonna sit tight for a few hours then I'll go back and check," Ronon said. "If it's really a flash flood the water level is going to go down."

Sheppard's jaw tightened visibly as he cracked an eye open. "Let's hope it's a flash flood, then."