Klon

My first fan fic.
I don't own Carson or the members of SGA-1

A/N: Now I've seen "Sunday," I am very sad! And I will try to integrate my story with the actual episode.

Part 6

Rodney sat on the floor of his cell with his head resting in his hands. He felt drained, and suppressed guilt and pain began to surface. He pulled his knees to his chest and let out a quiet, stifled sob. I miss you Carson! I should have gone fishing with you! His thoughts spilled out as he continued to fight his emotions. He could picture the disappointed look on Carson's face when he told him that he would be spending the day with Katie Brown rather than visiting the mainland with Carson. He remembered his fear as Carson activated the medical lockdown and stayed to operate on Dr. Watson. Rodney's heart ached while he visualized going through Carson's things and packing them up to return to Earth.

Rodney didn't know how long he sat there lost in his grief when he heard the soft click of a door down the hall. He stood up quickly and backed up against the far wall of the cell. He strained to hear when the sound of multiple footsteps coming towards him caused his heart rate to skyrocket as he began a full fledged McKay meltdown.

"Well, Dr. McKay! I am glad to have a chance to catch up on old times with you," Michael's words dripped sarcasm. Rodney continued to be amazed at the amount of "humanism" these wraith continued to exhibit.

"How have you been dealing with the loss of your Doctor? Have you gone fishing recently?" The wraith lips curled back into his sardonic grin.

It was a good thing Rodney was leaning against the wall otherwise he would have staggered back and fallen down. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but the shock was almost too much. How does he know this? We have to have a spy, it's the only explanation. Rodney fought to regain control over himself; he intended to prove that Michael hadn't won yet.

"Why don't you tell me? I refuse to be provoked into an argument with you." Rodney pulled himself up and walked towards the wraith and his guards. "Apparently you already know way too much about the events on Atlantis, and I've got better things to do with my time – although those things seem to be limited right now."

The wraith laughed at him. A true, almost human laugh, rather than the forced grunts wraith normally gave. "You win, Dr. McKay. But I do have use for you – something to keep you busy. You are going to fix my ship," Michael said as the bars to the cell pulled back. Two wraith guards reached in and grabbed Rodney by his jacket and pulled him out as they turned to follow Michael.

"I'm not helping you, not when you're just going to kill us anyway," Rodney said, while trying to concentrate on keeping himself on his feet. "Anyway, I'm not good with wraith technology."

"Well, now you are just lying! I know you worked well on the hive ship, and I have complete faith that you will get us moving again," Michael said, over his shoulder. "And, if you are successful, I may even let you and your team leave unharmed."

McKay continued to struggle behind him. "What about Andrew? I'll fix your ship and give you a satellite TV if you let him go with us. What do you say, Michael, is it a deal? For old-times sake!"

"Ah, Andrew. He is very close to reversing the damage done by your doctor. He has worked harder than I ever expected. I am very proud of him." Michael began slowing down as they reached what looked like a wraith control panel. "Unfortunately, when he is done, I will have to kill him – and his 'children.' Ah, here we are, Dr. McKay, this is where you will be working for quite some time or you could meet your end right here."

"Well, when you put it that way: I'm gonna need supplies and tools," Rodney's voice was laced with sarcasm while his mind began moving a breakneck speed. "Oh, and food: I'm hypoglycemic and if I don't eat I'll get dizzy and die, then no one will fix your ship."

"You will get your supplies," Michael said as the two guards dragged Rodney into the room and tossed him down on the floor next to the panel. "I will come back and check on you progress. Nathanial and Seamus will watch over you while I am gone, and you will get fed when you have some progress."

"You do not understand, I can't work unless I eat, and I haven't eaten since we got here, and I'm bound to start getting sick." Rodney whined, trying to stand up.

"Then you had better work fast," Michael said, smiling darkly as he turned and walked out.

Rodney stood up slowly, glancing warily at the two wraith guards who growled back at him. One of them kicked a box towards him.

Rodney kicked the box back. The box didn't move, and Rodney had to resist the urge to swear in pain. Angrily he yanked the panel off the side of the console. "Three PhDs and I'm nothing more than a glorified mechanic: first the Genii want me to build bombs and then a mutating wraith wants me to fix his minivan. No one really appreciates me for my skills."

It looked like an explosion had happened inside the panel. Every fiber cord had been disconnected, and it looked as if at one time the console had been on fire. Rodney uttered a put-upon sigh before dropping to his knees and begining pulling out cables and crystals, making room for him to work. "Oh, come on! This is a mess! How were you guys ever able to get this bucket of rust to fly. You'd need a complete crew just to keep it above the ground, which obviously you don't have or you wouldn't need me to get your go-cart into the air again."

The two wraith hybrids growled menacingly, sensing the insult rather than understanding it. One slouched in the door way, blocking any exit, while the other took a step forward hovering behind Rodney watching his every move as Rodney settled in and began working on the blown-out engine.

"So, which of you is Nathan and which is Seymour?" Rodney asked absently over his shoulder while opening the box and fishing through the tools. "Either of you have anything to eat? This is gonna take longer than you would think, even for me. I am not a magician. I can't just wave a wand to fix things, and if I have a hypoglycemic reaction I can't do anything to fix it. I'll take just about anything to eat, unless it is citrus. I'd have a worse reaction from citrus."

Rodney's tirade was followed again by a growl from his two babysitters, and the minutes turned into hours with Rodney grumbled while he worked, feeling more and more dizzy and nauseous as he went.

TBC
Feedback is appreciated.