Chapter Four

"Sheppard? Sheppard! Answer me, damn you!"

Sheppard heard an angry, but concerned voice shouting at him from afar and wondered what had gotten McKay so riled. He moved his head slightly and realized he was lying on his right side in a semi-dark place. There was broken concrete and rubble closing in around him, forming a tight cocoon of debris.

A tiny, but animated scream erupted below him, mobilizing him into action in an instant.

"Masan!" Sheppard whispered, his heart skipping a beat as he moved one arm to reveal Masan cradled safely in a crevice between his chest and the ground. He had instinctively tried to shield Masan's body with his own as the debris fell around them. The realization that only a little more pressure could have smothered Masan made his heart beat faster. Masan struggled to be free and Sheppard eased his hold on him.

"Sheppard! Can you hear me?" It was McKay shouting at him again.

"Yeah, I hear you," Sheppard called out. He was shocked to hear how faint his voice sounded as it echoed around him.

Now, Sheppard could hear Zalea crying. "Can you see him, Dr. McKay? Can you see Masan?"

Apparently, they hadn't heard his response. Sheppard started to shift so that he could get McKay's attention, but instead he sucked in air as fiery pain shot from his right leg. Squeezing his eyes shut, he laid there for a while, trying to control the throbbing of his head and the fiery blasts from his right thigh. Masan's crying became more frantic and Sheppard's priorities shifted. He'd deal with whatever injuries he had once Masan was safe.

He opened his eyes and leaned forward to bring his lips close to Masan's head. "Shush, it's okay. Let me check you out," he said, surprised by the continuing weakness in his voice.

He felt along Masan's arms and legs with a shaky hand, but he didn't feel anything broken. His fingers moved to probe around the baby's neck and chest and he was relieved not to find anything that stood out as a problem. Still, there could be internal injuries.

There wasn't a lot of light to work with, but he used what little was there to visually examine Masan from head to toe, and then he did it again. There wasn't any blood that he could see, and the knowledge made him sigh with relief. He turned slightly, trying to figure out how to get out of his concrete prison.

"Damn it, Sheppard! Answer me or so help me if you aren't dead, I'll kill you myself!"

"Oops," John whispered.

He'd forgotten about McKay. He went to answer, but moved his leg without meaning to and the fireball exploded in his leg again. Something was definitely wrong. He could move his foot, so he didn't think the limb was broken or crushed underneath the concrete rubble, but something was going on, something not good.

There was some noise above him, and then more light came streaming in. Its brightness burned his eyes and made him blink several times. McKay shouted again, despair starting to enter in his tone, "Sheppard?"

"Yeah, we're here," John called out breathlessly.

"Sheppard? Oh, thank God!"

John went to reply when the rubble around him started shifting. He shouted, "Hey, watch it!"

"Sorry. Give us a few more minutes and we should have things cleared enough to get to you."

"How's Masan?" Zalea asked in a panicked rush.

Sheppard looked at Masan more closely, wishing he knew for sure if the baby was okay. He had to yell to be heard over Masan's crying. "He looks all right, but it's kind of dark in here."

"Hold on, we're working as fast as we can."

Sheppard cradled Masan as the baby continued to cry, letting his lips brush against Masan's squirming shoulder. "I know, little guy, I want to get out of here, too."

It didn't take much movement at all for the pain to race through his system again, feeling like it was jagged bolts of electricity, instead of pain impulses. He wanted to wail right alongside with Masan, but resisted the urge. As long as he didn't move his leg, the pain was tolerable, barely tolerable, but enough so that he could think.

Taking a deep breath, McKay said, "Okay, we're almost there."

Dust and small rubble started raining down on him. "Hey, be careful!" Sheppard yelled with irritation, leaning over protect Masan from the debris.

"Sorry, sorry," McKay answered.

"Damn, you've got good lungs," Sheppard whispered to Masan, blinking as the baby's screams bounced off the enclosed area and echoed inside his head.

"Masan!" Zalea called, her voice quivering with worry. "Are you sure he's okay, John?"

Sheppard raised his head and shouted to be heard over Masan, "Yeah, I think he's okay, just a little scared . . . and definitely pissed off."

He moved to give Masan a little more room and groaned when he moved his leg.

"Sheppard?" McKay asked, his voice closer now. "You don't sound good."

"Something's wrong with my leg, but I think I'm okay. Though I'm starting to feel pretty closed in here."

"That will soon be resolved," McKay said and a chunk of something fell with a loud thud.

"Did you do that?" Sheppard asked cautiously.

Before McKay answered, there was more movement from McKay's side. Things got a lot brighter, and then there was McKay's sweaty, grime-streaked face looking over the edge of the rubble separating them. "You should be so dead right now."

Sheppard grunted, but smiled. "Remember what I said about doom and gloom? You need to be more positive."

"Hey, that was positive." He pushed away some more rubble, causing it to hit the floor hard. "You should see yourself. You look like a poster boy for disaster relief."

Zalea also leaned over the opening. "Do you think it's possible for you to pass Masan to me?"

She looked frightened and exhausted, and he didn't blame her. They'd had way too many brushes with danger to suit him. When he looked down at Masan, he saw the infant was strangely quiet now and Sheppard hoped he was just sleeping, but the sudden change in behavior unnerved him.

He stared at Masan. "You know, it might not be a good idea to move him until someone can really check him out."

There was a pause which McKay filled. "Yeah, okay, good thinking. We'll keep working. Shouldn't be too long."

Sheppard nodded. "Okay," he answered, noting how the weakness in his voice had grown.

He must have dozed off himself while waiting, because the next thing he knew McKay was hanging down over one side of the rubble, shaking his arm. Sheppard blinked a few times, noticing that Zalea was in a small space next to him, hovering over Masan without touching him. She looked petrified. His head popped up as he asked, "What? What is it?"

She started crying and he followed her gaze. Masan wasn't moving. Sheppard reached out a shaky hand and touched Masan's neck. He sighed with relief to find a pulse, and then the infant took in a deep breath.

"Oh, thank God," Rodney whispered, speaking for all of them.

"I think he just wore himself out crying," Sheppard said softly as Zalea gently ran her fingers over Masan's body just as Sheppard had done minutes before.

Masan turned his head toward her touch and opened his mouth. Sheppard smiled. That kid had an appetite that rivaled McKay's. She went to pick Masan up when he stopped her. "McKay, call Beckett. Make sure we have his approval before we start moving Masan around. We don't want endanger him by rushing things."

He swallowed and closed his eyes as McKay spoke to Beckett. "Carson, we've reached Sheppard and the baby. Both of them are alert. What do we do now?"

While Beckett gave McKay instructions, Zalea balled one hand into a fist in frustration. "All I want to do is hold him."

Sheppard nodded as he whispered, "I know. Just remember he's a strong kid. He'll be all right."

She nodded. Masan started squirming, getting fussier by the second, which prompted more nervousness from his mother. Soon, Zalea was allowed to pick him up, though very carefully. Because of the close quarters, she handed Masan up to McKay's waiting arms from where he laid against the rubble. She climbed up and took Masan from him, disappearing from sight.

McKay climbed down to Sheppard's side. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," Sheppard said softly. "Like I needed to hear that."

Now that Masan was taken care of, Sheppard's injuries were screaming for attention. He started trembling. Despite his best efforts to stop, his muscles stubbornly refused to obey.

McKay leaned forward. "Beckett's asking about you now."

"Tell him I want to get the hell out of here. Think he can manage that?" John answered with irritation. He was shaking from the cold and lying on the hard floor didn't help things.

McKay rolled his eyes. "We all want to get out of here. Stop being so petulant."

Sheppard frowned. "Well, since I've still got some of this rubble pinning my legs down, I think I'm allowed. Get this shit off of me."

"One thing at a time. You're just lucky it was the end of this section that collapsed down around you and not the entire support beam."

Sheppard tried to rise up on his elbow to speak, but his awkward angle made it difficult, especially with his weakness and quivering muscles. McKay reached down and picked up Sheppard's radio headset from the debris on the floor. "You lost this."

McKay started to hand it to him when he stopped, staring at Sheppard's head. He pulled back, looking worried. "Uh, you're bleeding in that ear. Why don't I just hold on to this for you? It might not work any way."

He paused, looking away as he listened, slipping Sheppard's headset into a pocket. "Yes, yes, I hear you, Carson." Turning back to Sheppard, he said, "Carson is feeling ignored. He wants to know your condition. You said something earlier about your leg . . . "

Sheppard sighed in frustration. "Yes, my leg hurts, but we can't see what's going on with it until you get this crap off of me, can we? Or do I have to move the damned stuff myself?"

McKay sighed. "Look, you two, I'm getting it from both sides. Sheppard wants to be free and you want – what? A new set of vitals? Do I look like Florence Nightingale?"

He looked to Sheppard. "Okay, stop whining and let me do what Carson wants, and then I'll get back to getting you free, okay? Will that make everyone happy?"

Sheppard gritted his teeth together, but nodded. McKay touched Sheppard's wrist to take his pulse and then patted Sheppard's bare arm and forehead. "Your skin is cold and clammy, and you're shaking like crazy . . . "

McKay's eyes widened, and then he straightened. "Beckett, I think Sheppard in going into shock."

John groaned, trying to suppress his shaking. McKay grasped Sheppard's wrist. "His pulse is fast and thready. He's breathing fast and shallow. And he's bleeding from several cuts, the worst from his head wound. Why didn't I do this earlier?"

He paused again, apparently listening to Beckett. "So, you're saying that alone wouldn't account for his symptoms?"

Sheppard ground his teeth together. "I'm right here, you know. Don't I have some say in the matter?"

McKay glared at him. "Shut up," he said, then glanced away. "No, not you, Carson. I meant Sheppard."

McKay went silent as he listened to Beckett's orders. "Okay, I'll get the blankets and cover him up, but with the rubble still on his legs, I can't elevate them."

Sheppard wiped at the sweat on his brow and tried again to control his trembling muscles. Maybe McKay was right after all.

"Can you move your feet at all?" McKay asked.

Sheppard nodded. "I just can't move my right leg."

"It's just his right leg. His feet move okay." McKay started moving away. "I'll be right back."

Sheppard didn't have the energy to argue with him. He just closed his eyes. Rodney was back soon with an armful of blankets. After a minute, he said, "Okay, Carson, I've done as much for him as I can until you get here."

Sheppard cleared his throat. "I could use a couple shots of tequila . . . you know, to dull the pain. For medicinal purposes only," he whispered.

"Dream on, flyboy," McKay said with disgust. "If I had any alcohol, I'd be drinking it myself."

Rodney sighed. "We have to move the rest of the rubble away before we can see what's going on with his leg."

He looked to Sheppard and frowned before his expression softened. "I'm going to climb back out and get to work unless there's something else you need."

Sheppard shook his head. "I need to be out of here."

"Right," McKay said as he started to climb back through the opening. "You know, my back will never be the same again," he complained.

McKay didn't wait for Sheppard's response. He just hoisted himself up and out. Soon, Sheppard could hear him working again, but strangely without any further complaints.

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