To the reviewers:
jodz92: Better make the last one count! And don't worry, I know where the story is headed…On second thought, maybe you should keep worrying…
Linda Gagne: Time will tell if you're correct or not. It's good to keep everyone guessing!
jaminesmommy: Luckily, the king doesn't know how to dial Atlantis.
Zanshe: Let's hope so!
Sheppardster: Well, you got your wish! Final chapter, here she is!
Katriel1987: Excellent! I'm glad the story has kept your interest. And there's more whump where that came from!
Iratus: I do apologize for stopping the story. I've decided to devote more time to writing some more SGA fiction and decided to, first and foremost, finally finish this story.
-SGA-
"Aye, I know he's dying, but there's nothing we can do about it!"
"Well then what do we do?" McKay shouted, glowering at the security camera depicting an unmoving John Sheppard, save for the soft rise and fall of his chest. One had to squint to see it.
"We wait, Rodney," Carson answered, warmly placing a hand on the physicist's shoulder. "We can't do anything until Elizabeth and the others get back. We have to hope they came to some sort of agreement."
McKay ground his teeth together. "They sure are taking their sweet time then, don't you think?"
"Aye, it's close, I know." Carson sighed. Close didn't even begin to cut it. John barely had enough oxygen left in the tank. It had been three hours now. They had, at most, thirty minutes. And that was pushing their luck.
"Zelenka!" McKay nearly screamed, tapping his earpiece. "How are those repairs coming?"
Carson could overhear the Czech. "Not so good, I'm afraid. I've managed to reroute several of the frayed and damaged wires, but the bulk of the problem has not changed much."
McKay's entire body seethed with anger. "That's not good enough. We don't have much time."
"I can't work any faster! If you bothered to help me, I—"
"I just temporarily fixed the conduits. The least you could do is fix the ventilation system!"
"I told you it would take days! Maybe weeks! You're lucky I've gotten this far!"
"But if you—"
"Rodney," Carson said, his voice a stern warning not to venture further. "Are there any other solutions?"
The physicist whirled on him. "No, no there's not! I've thought of countless scenarios and nothing is fast enough. There's just no time."
"Calm down, lad. For the moment, he's still breathing. We have some time left."
"Some time is not enough time, Carson. We are down to minutes, not hours anymore."
And as if the Stargate itself had heard Rodney McKay's calls for distress, it sprung to life. Chevron after chevron clicked in place, each one an agonizing distance from the next.
"Incoming IDC!" Chuck announced. Carson waited with baited breath. Rodney stared with wide, tired eyes.
"It's Major Lorne! Lower the shield!"
Carson stood aside with the medical team, several stretchers at the ready, along with a plethora of first aid kits. One never really knew how much of anything they'd need when a team came back from a mission.
The Puddle Jumper flew into the room quickly and came to an abrupt halt above them.
Carson turned to his team. "We'll meet them in the Jumper Bay. Follow m—"
"Wait! They're landing!" McKay interrupted.
Sure enough, the Puddle Jumper lowered itself to the middle of the 'Gate room and the rear hatch opened. One by one, everyone exited in turn except Major Lorne.
"Carson!" Elizabeth called. The flight back to Atlantis was filled with worry and a yearning for an iota of hope for John.
"I'm here, Elizabeth!" Carson answered, jogging towards the group. He immediately noticed Cadman's injuries and directed two others to load her onto a stretcher. After a quick assessment, he concluded that her injuries were not life threatening and ordered her to the infirmary immediately. "Careful now, and bring her straight to Dr. Biro!" He turned to Elizabeth, a hopeful expression on his face. "Any luck, lass?"
Her eyes conveyed neither excitement nor disappointment. "We're not quite sure, Carson."
"You're not quite sure?" Rodney yelled, fingers dancing over the tablet in his hand. He pivoted his head to question her further. "How can you not be—Wait, what's that?"
Elizabeth followed his gaze and glanced down at the bracelet adorning her hand. "We managed to obtain this bracelet, Rodney. It allows the user to pass through physical objects—" She saw his eyes light up. "But unfortunately, we only have one usage left."
"One?" Rodney questioned. He turned back to Sheppard's wounded form on the screen. "What are we supposed to do with one? You can reach him, but you can't pull him out. You can pull him out, but you can't reach him!" He exhaled loudly, exasperated.
"Aye, that's quite the dilemma there," Carson supplied, earning a 'well, that comment was helpful' glare from Rodney.
"Yes, it is," Elizabeth replied dejectedly, "We had to use the device twice just to escape the planet…The king does not take kindly to women in power." Carson audibly sighed. "Rodney, have you made any progress?"
"The conduits are fixed," he supplied, "But the ventilation system is completely trashed for that Sector due to the explosion. Zelenka's trying but…" He trailed off.
"It's not enough," Elizabeth finished for him.
"No…no, it's not."
John's movement was minimal and Elizabeth felt like she was watching some sort of snuff film, waiting for the hapless victim to succumb to its injuries. It was sickening.
"Dr. Weir," Teyla ventured, having remained silent along with Ronon throughout their discussion. "Perhaps there is some way we could get the device to John instead of using it to get to him?"
"That's a good try, Teyla, but the device is attached to my wrist. Unfortunately, wherever it goes I have to go as well, if we intend to use it."
Ronon chimed in, "Then what if we managed to get you to Sheppard without using the device?"
A calm of silence fell over the group, the only noise a faint hum as Lorne piloted the Jumper back into the Jumper Bay above them. "You know…" Carson started, "That's not such a terrible idea."
"Stop right there," Rodney interjected. "Before you get any ideas, how could we possibly get her there without Atlantis stopping her? Even if we gave her a mask, a suit and her own supply of oxygen, there is no direct route to Sheppard without exposing him to the virus. Not only that, but Atlantis won't willingly open any of the doors for Elizabeth in case it results in the virus spreading."
"You don't have to go through any doors," a voice said. Everyone twisted their heads to look up towards the dialing console.
"Chuck?" Elizabeth asked.
"Really, you don't," Chuck added, apparently having overheard their conversation. Not that Elizabeth minded, of course. Perhaps listening to a clearer head was the help they needed right now. "If you suit up Dr. Weir and rig an explosive with a detonator, she could blow up the rest of the debris wall and walk straight to the room Colonel Sheppard is in."
Elizabeth turned to Rodney, who returned the look, if a little wide-eyed. "He's…he's actually right. You could detonate an explosion large enough to let you through, Elizabeth."
She was tired of running through all these plans of action without getting started on any of them. John was surviving on borrowed time as it was. "Carson, get a suit ready. And Ronon, inform Major Lorne that we need an explosive charge with a detonator ready to go as soon as possible." The immediate pounding of several pairs of feet let her know that everyone began moving as fast as they could.
"We still have a problem."
"What is it, Rodney?" she asked him, wondering what other obstacles were lying in their path. In her path.
"Assuming this all goes to plan and ten minutes from now you're standing outside the room with Sheppard in it, what then? If you open the door, you'll expose him to the virus."
Elizabeth looked thoughtful for a moment, mulling over the possibilities. "It took over two minutes for Lieutenant Waldon's team to succumb to the virus…do we have any idea how lethal the contagion is?"
"Lethal enough to kill four people in just over two minutes!" Rodney shot back.
"Rodney!" She was trying to keep him under control and needed him level headed for this discussion. "What I mean is, if John is exposed to the virus for only a few seconds, do you think that would cause any permanent or irreversible damage?"
"I…" He paused. "I don't…actually know. Why? Your intention is now to run inside and what? Pull him through the wall?"
"That's the plan, Rodney."
"But that won't work!"
"Why won't it work?"
"B-Because!" he stammered. "If you pull him through a wall will you not rematerialize on the other side of that wall? The other side of every wall of the room Sheppard is in is just another hallway or room exposed to the virus. Due to what must be the city's own intervention, he's currently sitting in the only room virus-free in almost that entire half of the Sector!"
"There has to be another way," Teyla commented, trying to not only calm Rodney down, but to try and get the discussion to look at alternative methods.
"There's not, Teyla! I've tried! I've tried everything!" Rodney threw his hands in the air, his voice cracking again for the second time that day. "It's hopeless." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "There's no other way."
"There is another way," Elizabeth said, her eyes set with a hard, determined look.
"How?" Rodney asked.
She turned to Chuck, who she knew was still paying rapt attention. "Notify any available marines near Major Lorne to give him a comm. unit ASAP," she ordered, affixing her own communication unit to her own ear. "I have a plan…and he's not going to like it."
-SGA-
The room was quiet.
To be expected, John. You can't hear anything, remember?
His head was pounding, his body ached like hell and he wasn't quite sure how much oxygen was left in this tank, but considering breathing was starting to become more difficult, he was pretty sure it was set to 'almost on empty' mode.
Atlantis was trying to keep him awake. The city's lights increased and decreased in brightness depending on how close he was to passing out. The low hum of the floor made him smile softly. It was like a cat purring its approval every time he opened his eyes. He slightly caressed the floor, silently blaming his emotional lapse in judgment on the concussion. He was petting the floor, for crying out loud.
The hum grew louder, sounding almost like approval.
It's okay, he thought towards her. They'll get me out of here soon. He attempted to be reassuring, stroking the tiled flooring and directing his thoughts outward. Atlantis was concerned. When the city was concerned for his emotional well-being, it was usually because he had stayed up all night after a mission gone sour or had a really heated argument with Rodney or Caldwell or some of the more defiant marines who didn't take too kindly to his lax and unusual commanding methods.
But when the city was concerned about his physical well-being…well, that meant he really was in trouble. She never acted this way when Teyla or Ronon had just given him a good beating in the gym when sparring, or when an Ancient device he just recently activated decreased his pain threshold by about ninety percent which made a pesky hangnail feel like a gunshot.
No, this was much worse.
He kept his hand moving, now making slow, circular motions on the floor. He'd hate to die here, he decided. What a way to go…finding a stockpile of drones and then being nearly blown to smithereens minutes afterwards. He hoped Lieutenant Waldon's team wasn't faring as badly as he was…and at that thought Atlantis' purring came to a sudden halt. He hoped that was just coincidental and, after a moment of quiet indecision, she started to hum again.
Sighing, John made a scan of the room. He had grown accustomed to doing so every fifteen or so minutes—or at least, what he believed was every fifteen minutes. The goopy mass of black had faded somewhat and he could now actually make out the video screen in the room that Rodney frequently updated with messages.
GOT A NEW PLAN, this next one read. ELIZABETH IS ON HER WAY…MAYBE.
Well, that was new. Since when did Elizabeth become the resident rescue squad? And what was that "maybe" all about? Were they not sure?
John had a feeling this was one of those 'Sheppard miracles' in-the-making, as Elizabeth had resorted to calling them. Every time he planned one of those, it always came with a fine print that you needed a microscope to see. And if you happened to view through that microscope you'd see the word "maybe" attached.
For once, he was glad not to be the one in charge of one of those miracles.
-SGA-
"Go straight ahead and take your first right."
Moving around in the Hazmat suit was surprisingly easy for Elizabeth, despite the added weight and slower pace it provided her. She followed the green paint line on the wall, wary of the explosives in the backpack resting atop her shoulders. Lorne had double-timed it on getting everything together and was waiting for her instructions.
"Taking my first right," she said aloud, relaying her actions to Rodney as he guided her to the wall of debris blocking her from getting to John. It had taken them less than fifteen minutes to get her to this point and arrange her plan of action. The probability of something going wrong increased dramatically with how sloppy and quickly she had put all of this together with the others, but that was a risk she had to take—and one John had to put up with if he was going to get out of this mess alive. "How's he doing, Rodney?"
She could almost feel the sudden breath of annoyance through her comm. unit. "He's at least acknowledging what I type…for now. Take a left at the next intersection."
And it was that for now that had her moving even faster, if such a thing were possible. They hadn't come this far just to lose John now.
Rounding the corner, she saw the wreckage blocking her path. "I see it," she announced, and started to take off the backpack.
Carson's voice filtered through. "I'd just like to point out that I'm not a big fan of this proposed 'plan,' Elizabeth."
She smiled, well aware of the risk. "I know Carson, but we need to make this happen now or it will be too late." Unzipping the military issue pack, she began piling the blocks of explosives in the center of the large wall. Cadman's first explosion provided a helpful indentation in the wreckage.
"I understand, lass, I do…Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."
"No, no it doesn't," she agreed. "Just be ready. This shouldn't take more than a few minutes."
"Aye, I will. And Elizabeth?"
She applied the charges as instructed and drew the detonator switch from the backpack. "Yes, Carson?"
"Take a deep breath," he finished, his voice tinged with worry.
"Will do," she tossed back. "I'll see you soon." The Hazmat suit made turning more difficult and the decidedly squeaky rubber kept her on edge. "Rodney, I've set the charges."
The clap his hands made was audible. "Great, now step back around the intersection you just came from and cover your ears." There was a distinct pause. "It's going to get loud."
"Thanks for the advice," she replied, finishing the trek as fast as the suit would allow her.
-SGA-
The room began to shake. John braced himself against the wall.
And just as quickly as it had begun, the room settled. Atlantis' constant hum disappeared. The video screen started typing words again.
SORRY, EXPLOSION.
Leave it to Rodney to be specific on the details, John chuckled softly to himself.
That Hail Mary he was hoping for was certainly taking its sweet time, he decided. His breathing was becoming shallow gasps and colors started to swim in and out of his vision.
The purring returned.
This time, however, the lights could not keep him awake as his eyes slid closed and his head fell limply to the side.
-SGA-
"Elizabeth, you have to hurry!" were the first words she heard as the ruckus caused by the explosion died down. "We're losing him!"
Her feet slammed into the floor, one loud step following the next as her boots made contact with the ground beneath her. "Major Lorne!"
"Yes, ma'am?" he answered urgently.
"Are you in position?" she practically yelled, taking a hard left at Rodney's directions.
"Yes, I am, ma'am. Doctor Beckett's ready as well."
"Perfect, we'll be there in less than a minute," she threw back. "How much farther, Rodney?"
"You're there! The door on your right! Stop!"
Her entire body screeched to a halt as she located the correct room. The three crystals to her right indicated the door was operational. She swiped her hand across it.
Nothing happened.
"Rodney, the door's not opening!" she said, attempting the swipe again. And again.
The same chime rang out again and again, but nothing happened.
"I told you before, Atlantis isn't just going to let you in! The city knows you'll expose him to the virus! Remember, to the city he's Wonder Boy!"
And there was the flaw in the plan she'd been dreading. Chuck accounted for the wall of debris, but not for the door actually separating John from the rest of the area.
Please, she thought outward, placing her hand on the wall closest to her. Please, let me in.
She did not have the Ancient gene, nor did she want it. If it was not hers to begin with, she did not want to artificially impose herself upon the city. But now, being this close to John, that decision was beginning to become a regretful one.
The door still did not open.
"He's losing oxygen!" Rodney cried. His voice was high-pitched, she could tell, but it was muffled, as if she was unconsciously blocking him out.
Please, she tried again. I don't know if you can hear me, she pleaded, But we're trying to save him. We're trying to bring him back. I have something that can help him, but you have to let me in.
Elizabeth knew John's connection with the city was stronger than anyone's. Not only that, but it was also the most unusual relationship she had ever seen. It was instinctual. Atlantis knew what John was thinking at all times, or so he had told her. If he wanted a door to be opened, it opened. If he wanted a light to be on, it turned on.
And for that to happen, it had to be able to read him. To feel him. To feed off of his thoughts, his feelings, his desires.
So she tried to replicate those qualities within herself. Her desire to save John. Her utter devotion to getting him out of that room alive. Her determination to not fail.
PLEASE, her inner voice screamed, her brows furrowing in sadness and despair.
And the door swooshed open.
With a small cry of joy, Elizabeth leapt into the room and towards John.
His body had fallen to the floor having slid a short trek down the wall. As fast as possible, she gripped him and yelled into her communication unit. "We're on our way!"
Standing herself up straight, she angled herself and John backwards towards the wall. Facing ahead at the opposite wall, she hugged his middle tightly and leaned backwards. Her left hand reached across ever so slightly and pressed down, activating the bracelet.
The next thing she knew, her and John plummeted backwards and began to fall.
She could not think. She could not breathe.
She could, however, feel the unimaginable pain of having her body distorted the way it was. For that, she was most certain she would be glad that John was unconscious for this ride.
Her plan was rather simple. Instead of dropping into the room below them, they would phase into the wall. She had double-checked with Rodney and this wall separated rooms all the way down to the star-drive submerged into the ocean around the city. In this way, they would rematerialize underneath not only the surface of the ocean, but underneath the city itself.
The fall was long and the wait…there were no words.
And with a sudden rush of wind and water and air and heat and cold and noise and silence and calm, the ocean sprang up to meet them and all the air in Elizabeth's lungs was forcefully pushed outwards. Her body trapped John's and refused to let him go, but his weight pulled her downwards and she struggled to move. To breathe. To think.
Just as fast as her world had gone from a brightly lit room to the dark depths of the ocean, her quick descent flipped upside-down and they started to climb. Weight was now applied to both her front, courtesy of John, and to her back.
Within seconds her and John had broken through the surface of the water and she rolled to her left, gasping for breath. Her hands fumbled for traction and gripped something hard.
She did her best to smile.
"Hell of a landing, Dr. Weir," Lorne's voice echoed through her comm. unit, which remarkably remained intact.
She didn't have the breath to answer him.
Instead, she patted the roof of the Puddle Jumper beneath her and rolled to her other side. John's form was unmoving as they rose higher into the air, just enough so that Carson could exit the rear of the Jumper and climb up to meet them.
Extending her hand, she placed it upon his neck to feel for a pulse and blew a sigh of relief. It was weak. It was thready. But it was there.
Carson wasted no time in joining them. "Aye, how about not doing this again for at least another month?" he said, rushing to John's side and immediately applying a new oxygen mask to his face.
Elizabeth gazed up at the sky and observed the clouds moving slowly away in the distance and the sunlight filtering through around them.
She smiled again. "Agreed, Carson."
-SGA-
"...coming around…"
"…like a drunken monkey…"
"…blue jell-o?"
"…Die Hard. Definitely, Die Hard."
Voices were filtering in and out of his head at random.
Placing them was much more trying than usual and it didn't help that everything sounded muffled and impossible to pick out.
"John?"
Well now, that he heard.
"Wake up, John."
And as if commanded, he cracked his eyes open slightly and immediately shut them. The light hurt like a bitch.
"Rodney, could…" more static, more noise, "…the lights, please?"
"…not a house maid, you know!" someone answered and, yes, that was most definitely McKay.
This time, he opened his eyes without closing them again.
"Hey John," Elizabeth said, seated to his right. He smiled lazily at her, his head lolling to the side. She smiled back and placed her hand on his wrist, giving it a slight squeeze. "You made it back."
He nodded slightly. Locking eyes with her, his brows knitted together, the unspoken question passing between them.
"Let's just say I got to pull off one of your miracles. And no," she added, "You're not going to live it down. Not for a while."
They shared another round of smiles and he mouthed the words 'Thank you' before his eyes shut again of their own accord.
Carson had said he'd make a full recovery within the next week or two, but needed to stay in the infirmary to rest for another few days at the minimum.
Stepping out into the hallway, Elizabeth let John's team take over residence near his bedside for the next few hours and leaned against a nearby wall. She caught Rodney's "Stop almost dying, it's getting really old now" before the doors closed behind her.
Her plan was a success and they would eventually have a weapons cache of over six thousand drones after Rodney and Radek fixed the ventilation system to filter out the virus. But not everything had gone smoothly.
Four people of their expedition had died today and, according to Teyla, many more on the planet of Talina. Lieutenant Cadman was wounded and John was worse for the wear. Those were the days she dreaded: when life wasn't content with Atlantis being uneventful. But those were the risks they all signed up for when coming to this city and really, it did try its best to accommodate them.
She, Elizabeth reminded herself. Not It, She.
She knew John had dubbed the city a female as most men did when they grew fond of personal, material objects. A prized car or an expensive, lavish item. But after its reaction to her when she pleaded for the city to cooperate, Elizabeth realized she could no longer refer to the city as simply an object or entity.
She was as alive as they were.
And just as Elizabeth felt the pain, the sorrows and the joys of this expedition, so did Atlantis. She suffered when she could not help John, and so did the city. She felt the ache of losing SGA-6 to the pathogen, and so did the city.
Placing her hand on the nearest wall, Elizabeth closed her eyes and sent a soft Thank you towards Atlantis.
And before she could remove her hand, Elizabeth's expression grew shocked as felt the city begin to hum, as if acknowledging her approval.
A faint smile spread on her face and, removing her hand, Elizabeth started the trek back to the Gate Room to continue her work.
Today felt like a much better day than yesterday.