AN: Poor, poor Radek. Stealthdragon - no, no "giant floating zombie heads trying to eat people"; maybe some other time! And Aurelia30 - maybe I should name the boy "Caspar"?
SPOILERS for "Trinity"
SUMMARY: After the events in "Trinity", Sheppard and McKay's relationship is strained at best. But is stranding them in a remote lighthouse with only Zelenka as referee going to help them work things out? And what about the dead scientist who used to own the place?
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fanfiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.
Deus Ex Machina
By KerrAvon
8. Recollections of Rio
When Sheppard headed out after Zelenka, Rodney plodded down to the lab, grousing to himself. 'OK, so I did almost blow us both up. He doesn't have to keep throwing it in my face like that. Still, if it hadn't been for Colonel Caldwell…' he forced his mind away from that train of thought. 'Everyone else has gotten over it already. Why can't Sheppard trust me again?"
He grimaced and muttered, "Because we were at ground zero, you idiot."
As he opened the door to the lab, he sighed. 'I am going to make absolutely certain that nothing screws up again.' Shuffling over to the desk where they'd set up the computer simulations, he sank into the chair and began inputting hypothetical data.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been working when his eyelids began drooping. He felt warm and safe, and began to dream that he was at the carnival his parents took him to as a child. There had only been the once, but he still remembered the caramel apples and the cotton candy. He'd eaten so much he'd gotten sick, and his parents didn't even get mad when he threw up in the back of the car. Of course, that evening they told him they were getting a divorce. Still, that carnival was one of his fondest memories; he could almost smell the cotton candy…Then his dream turned ugly; he was sitting in front of the shield prototype, eating cotton candy. With sticky fingers he threw the activation switch…and the machine began to overload. His dream-self switched to a Jumper with Sheppard, outracing the explosion, only this time the Daedalus wasn't there …
Startling awake, he shook his head to clear it, then pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. 'A dream. Just a dream,' he told himself, despite the sugary scent that seemed to linger in the air. 'I shouldn't be this tired…' Rolling back his shoulders to ease the tension that had lodged there, he began massaging a kink out of his neck as he glanced at his terminal. Eyes widening in dismay, he forgot his exhaustion and began typing furiously.
"No, no, no…." he mumbled, then peered at the screen again. He slammed a fist on the desk and swung away in disgust. "Ruined. I'll have to run that entire set again. I must've dozed off while running the simulation," he cursed under his breath. Turning towards the door he muttered, "Coffee. I need to get a cup of…" he trailed off as his eyes widened. There, standing in the lab entrance, was a scruffy boy who matched Sheppard's description to a tee.
McKay jumped up in alarm. "Hey, you! Kid! How'd you get in? What are you doing here?" He vaguely wondered if the child had been eating sweets as he rushed to grab him. The boy just grinned like a demon and took off running up the stairs.
"Hey, no! Come back here!" Taking the steps two at a time, he followed the child to the main floor, flinging open the stairwell door only seconds after it had closed behind the scamp.
Nothing. The kid had vanished, and the door to the upper levels was still shut. McKay checked the front door, noting that it was both closed and locked, and that the code was active. However, once a thorough search of that level proved fruitless, he punched in the digits and headed outside.
It was full dark, so the light from the complex streaming out from the open doorway pooled at his feet but did little to illuminate the surrounding area.
Squinting, he peered into the blackness; no boy was evident. At a distance, however, two larger figures straggled slowly towards him. The taller one, catching sight of the open door, raised his free arm to wave while keeping the other arm around the smaller man, practically carrying him. Tiny wings of panic fluttered in Rodney's throat, 'What happened to Radek?'
"Hey, Rodney, a little help here!" called Sheppard impatiently. As the pair had slowly hiked back from the spot where he'd fallen, the Czech scientist's shaking had worsened, now as much from hypothermia as shock. His eyes were glazed and his head whirled, causing him to lean more and more on the pilot as they progressed. By the time they finally caught sight of the lighthouse, Sheppard was practically carrying his charge. Also, the rocky terrain made it slow going; John managed to keep the two of them from falling altogether, but they did a fair share of stumbling in the darkness of the Deltarran night. He sighed in relief as he saw the door to the building open of its own accord and McKay pop his head out.
At Sheppard's call McKay inexplicably popped back inside for a moment, only to appear seconds later wearing a jacket and carrying a flashlight. "What happened?" he demanded, noting Radek's semi-conscious state. "Where have you been? Why…"
"Shut up and give me a hand," gritted John. He himself was beyond tired, and the last thing he needed was the typical McKay question barrage.
"But…" Rodney began, only to be interrupted once more by an increasingly irate Sheppard.
"NOW, McKay!"
Rodney's glare was lost in the shadows as he moved to snake an arm around Radek from the other side, only to recoil in surprise. "He's soaking wet! What you two do, go swimming?"
"Rodney…" the threat in the tone was unmistakable.
"Right. Shutting up." Rodney grimaced in distaste but managed to work his arm around Radek to help support him, then beamed the light on the ground in front of them. They managed to make it the last couple of hundred yards and stagger in the door without further incident.
They pair gently eased Radek onto the couch in the main room and Sheppard began stripping the shivering scientist out of his damp clothes. As he unzipped the jacket and began tugging it off his arms, Sheppard ordered, "Rodney, we need towels and blankets; there's a linen closet just down that hall, next to the bathroom."
McKay began to reply, 'What do I look like, your maid?', but one glance at Zelenka's slack, ashen features changed his mind. Instead, he just snapped, "Right," and rushed out of the room, returning in under a minute with a stack of thick cotton towels and a huge down comforter. "This enough?" he asked.
"It's a start." Sheppard was having difficulty maneuvering Radek out of his shirt, as the man had gone almost completely limp. Once it was pulled over his head, however, Sheppard grabbed the nearest towel and began vigorously rubbing down his head and torso in an effort to both dry him and restore circulation.
McKay hovered anxiously but managed to contain the hundreds of questions that sprang to his lips, voicing only "What else do you want?"
Sheppard was pleasantly surprised by the pertinence of Rodney's remark. "If you could get a pot of coffee going, it'll help warm him up."
"Coffee. Right. I can do that." McKay disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
Once John had managed to dry the upper half of the hypothermic scientist, he wrapped him in the blanket and lay him lengthwise on the couch. Next he struggled with the man's trousers, repeating the process. By the time Radek was dry and swaddled in the comforter, Rodney had reappeared with a steaming cup of the requested beverage.
"Radek, we've got some hot coffee for you," Sheppard lightly patted his cheeks as he hauled him back into a sitting position. "Come on, Zelenka, snap out of it. Or am I going to have to pour this over your head instead?"
Zelenka shook his head. "Waste…" he muttered, eyes blinking open.
"What?" asked John, eager to get the man back into the here and now.
Reaching for the cup with still-trembling fingers, he repeated, "One does not waste coffee, even in jest." Taking a deep sip, he grimaced, "But then, is this truly coffee or mud?" He stared accusingly at the mug as if it had accosted him in a dark alley.
"So I like my coffee strong," exclaimed McKay defensively.
Holding up his cup, Zelenka inquired, "You made this?"
"Yes, I did," McKay drew himself up proudly.
Radek took another speculative taste, then looked slyly at the astrophysicist. "For McKay coffee, this is reasonably palatable."
"Now wait just one minute…" protested McKay.
Zelenka silenced him with a raised eyebrow. "Come on, Rodney, why do you think that your department always has a full pot of coffee ready for you in the morning? Seriously, when was the last time you actually had to make it?"
"I thought they did it out of respect!" McKay exclaimed.
"They did. Respect for the coffee bean." He took another swallow of the hot liquid, closing his eyes as its warmth seeped into him. "Still, it grows on you." He drained the cup, letting the lassitude of finally, finally being safe steal over his senses.
Sheppard snorted in amusement as Rodney fixed him with a glare. Crossing his arms, McKay decided that it was time to go on the offensive. "Well, Radek, if you're well enough to criticize my coffee, you're well enough to answer some questions. First and foremost, what the heck happened to you? I thought you were just going for a walk, and you come back drenched and half dead!"
John interceded, noting that Zelenka was rapidly falling asleep. "He fell off the cliff." Sheppard was succinct, taking the mug from the drowsy man as he helped him lie down and tucked the blanket in closer.
"What?" hissed Rodney, visually assessing the bundled form for structural damage. "How?"
Sheppard, satisfied that he'd made the Czech as comfortable as possible, pursed his lips and stood. "I'm not sure, but I intend to find out. It'll be better to question him after he's had a good night's sleep, then I'll go examine the spot on the cliff in the light of day." He broke off and sniffed the air speculatively. "Have you been baking, Rodney? Smells sweet in here."
McKay, still staring at Radek in consternation, waved a dismissive hand. "No, no. That's just the cotton candy from my dream..." His eyes widened at his own statement.
The pilot's brows furrowed in concern. "McKay…I can smell it. How could I smell your dream?"
Rodney shook his head to clear it, then looked at Sheppard in alarm. "You can smell it?"
"Yes, I can," John replied emphatically. Sniffing experimentally, he followed the scent, Rodney trailing in his wake. "It seems strongest over here," he commented, gesturing to the door that led to the basement lab. Jerking it open, the sugary smell became much more pronounced.
John's eyes narrowed as a memory tickled the back of his mind. "Reminds me of the month I spent in Rio…" he murmured to himself.
"Rio de Janeiro?" Rodney fixed him with a jealous stare as they headed for the basement.
"Yeah," replied Sheppard distractedly as he pushed open the door to the lab itself. The odor was much stronger here, and he began circling the room looking for its source. "Brazil doesn't have any oil reserves to speak of, so most of their cars run on an ethanol from sugarcane/gasoline mix. Lots cheaper for them and more efficient, but the whole place tends to smell like donuts or cotton candy during rush hour."
McKay's eyes widened in alarm as he suddenly put two and two together. "The power for this building comes from an ethanol-based generator; Wicket said so during our 'tour'!"
"Widget," Sheppard corrected automatically. "That must be it. Where is it?"
McKay pointed to a door on the far side of the room. "I think it's over there."
"Damn." The door was stuck, firmly resisting Sheppard's attempts to jerk it open. Placing a foot on the doorframe and both hands on the handle, he gave a sharp yank. With a crash the door gave way, filling the room with a sickly-sweet scent.
Covering his nose with his sleeve, the pilot quickly located the 'off' switch and threw it, plunging the room into darkness. McKay, recalling the flashlight he still held in his hand, flipped it on and wordlessly handed it to the other man, who shot him a smile and said, "Good thinking, Rodney." Turning back to the machine, he began examining it in greater detail.
After a few minutes he crowed, "Got it!" The exhaust hose leading out of the building had become loose, causing fumes to leak back into the lab. Replacing it into proper position, he hit the startup button. As the generator chugged back to life he glanced up at the restored lights and commented, "That ought to do it," as he brushed the dirt off his hands. Pushing Rodney ahead of him, he continued, "Come on. We need to go upstairs and let the air filters clean this place out for a while."
Rodney pointed at the machine and spluttered, "You mean…I was…I was breathing carbon monoxide?"
"Yes, and you still are. Move it, McKay!" Rodney needed no further urging; the two hurried to the first floor as the implications sunk in.
Rodney sat down heavily on the nearest chair. "That means I was inhaling carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide as well…" Fixing Sheppard with an incredulous stare, he whispered, "I could have died. No wonder I was so fatigued and sleepy…" He glanced away, fixing his gaze on the front door instead. "If it hadn't been for that kid…"
Sheppard jumped on the statement. "KID? What kid?" he demanded, grabbing McKay's arms and swinging him around to face him.
Rodney gestured vaguely towards the door. "I guess with everything else I forgot to mention it. I saw the boy you've been talking about - he was standing in the lab plain as day. When I tried to talk to him, though…"
"Let me guess. He ran away," interrupted John grimly.
McKay focussed on his face. "Yes, yes he did. I chased him upstairs into this room, but he was gone by the time I got here. Since the front door hadn't been opened, I figured he must be hiding, but I couldn't find any sign of him. I was actually just checking outside when I saw the two of you staggering home."
"So McKay had his turn already," commented a muffled voice from the couch.
Rodney looked confused, glancing from one man to the other. "My turn? What are you talking about?"
Clapping him on the shoulder, John smiled. "Don't worry about it. We should all go upstairs and get some sleep; that lab won't be safe to work in until tomorrow morning, and we have a busy day ahead of us."
TBC….
AN: OK, the Rodneywhump was a little mild this chapter, but I'll bet all you Radek fans loved it! And you really can die from carbon monoxide poisoning; it's just that the damage is irreversible until you replace the red blood cells (around 2 months), and I wanted a Rodney functioning on all cylinders, so I had him get out before he was too badly hurt.