Dark Element
The Little Things

A dark world leads to the discovery of an Ancient long imprisoned by his own people. Atlantis is placed in grave danger when Beckett sets him free.

Appearing on the other side of the Ancient outpost had been like stepping from darkness into the sunshine. It was a huge weight off of McKay's shoulders, to go from certain death to certain life. Medical officers were standing by in their clean uniforms, bearing comfy looking stretchers, and heck, even seeing Zelenka had brought the momentary ideation of a friendly smile to the physicist's mind.

Teyla had been whisked off to the Stargate so that her broken arm and bumped head could be treated, but though Rodney was starving practically out of his mind, he wasn't about to leave without making sure Beckett and Sheppard got out okay. And so he remained behind, standing with Ronon and Radek at the control panel, nervously watching the blips on the screen as he munched on a power bar.

At his side one of the remaining medics was attending to his arm—a relatively painful procedure. She unwrapped the makeshift bandage from around his arm slowly, but each little tug made him grit his teeth. He was almost afraid to look, to see what damage Aerien had done. He could remember the sound of his flesh being ripped by the Ancient's hand, could remember the warmth of his own blood trickling in droves down his flesh.

The medic took in a breath and held it at the sight of what was beneath the bandage. Rodney dared a glance and saw a very large, very gory mess where his arm should have been. Absently, he flexed his fingers, and even that small motion caused a stinging pain to sear across his flesh. He looked away hurriedly, content to be in the dark about the rest of what his arm looked like. The next thing he knew a needle full of morphine was jabbed into his thigh for quick absorption and he thought, Oh good. Trading my intelligence for painlessness.

"So, what happened?" Radek asked, his voice breaking the quiet.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Insanity. Ancient style. We were held captive by an Ancient scientist." He motioned towards the three dots. "Brilliant, I'll give him that. But completely, utterly and irrevocably nuts."

"Could we learn from him?"

"Oh, no way." Rodney shuddered. "He's way too dangerous." His eyes went a little abstract. "If you'd have seen Carson... No way."

Zelenka looked up with a solemn expression. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, mostly." McKay pursed his lips. "That Ancient's been dabbling in quantum energy. He knew how to manipulate dark matter, Radek. He was trying to steal it from Carson because he said something about it being brighter and stronger, probably because, well you know Carson. He's a cream puff, born ready for Ascension. Scary stuff. The Ancient actually had it for a while, but he just couldn't hang onto it forever."

"Aether?" Radek's tone was dubious.

"Uh-huh. That's not the half of it. He was trying to destroy energy, too. Now you see what a case he was."

That little barrage of information painted a startled expression on the Czech's face. "Yet another fine idea from our friends. They are insane."

McKay blinked. "Who, the Ancients?"

"Who else?"

He laughed. "Yeah really."

They watched the three dots representing the Colonel, Carson and Aerien, flip around the room before one of the life signs abruptly dropped off. A twitch of fear had passed through Rodney at that point. Who had just left this world for the next? He had no way of knowing, of course. He would use his brilliance and logic to speculate, but no matter what he told himself it just wasn't like seeing his two friends walk out from the hallway together.

McKay sank down in a nearby chair and looked up at his colleague with a somewhat speculative expression. He had a question in mind, but wasn't entirely all that certain he truly wanted to know the answer. There was a certain glint in those icy blue eyes of Radek's that warned Rodney he might be walking into a trap. Zelenka noticed him, however, and took the choice to remain silent away from him, saying, "What is it, Rodney? Marveling at my genius?"

For a second McKay glared his response, the decided to go ahead. "How did you get the bulkheads away from the transport rings? I don't suppose they went down automatically when you exited the Stargate?"

Zelenka shook his head. "No, as a matter of fact. It was very stressful thing, having to argue with the Ancient terminal on the other side. I was quite beside myself." He glanced over the rims of his glasses.

"Uh-huh." McKay crossed his arms and leaned back. "So, what was the solution, then?"

The other man didn't look up from the terminal. "Input codes in reverse. A novel, if somewhat crude approach."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed dryly, watching and waiting. He blinked. "I figured that out in the lab. It just came to me and that's how we escaped."

Zelenka nodded in slow appreciation. "Very good, Rodney. Very brilliant." Quiet fell between them for a long moment. Rodney relaxed against his chair and Radek kept vigil over the events transpiring across the complex. And after an appropriate time had passed the Czech looked up with an unreadable expression. "I think you should know something."

"Yeah, and what is that?" McKay asked impatiently.

"It only took me an hour and a half to figure out that the pass codes had to be input backwards." The silence following that was ominous and triumphant. Ronon gave the Czech a confused look, but said nothing.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I still figured it out before you did, because I got us out of that lab what, forty minutes ago? You guys didn't come through the Stargate until about twenty minutes later, so…"

"Ah, but had I been here with you from the beginning…" He stopped short, staring at the panel before him. A sudden beeping noise went off and the Czech started murmuring in his own tongue, converting to English only to say, "Bad news, Rodney."

McKay pulled himself away from the comfort of his chair and rushed up to the panel to see what was going on. The screen flickered as Zelenka navigated through the alerts to get a visual on what was occurring. A representation appeared onscreen that bore a very familiar likeness.

"Crap!" McKay hissed, staring at the image.

"What is it?" Ronon asked, drawing out of his solemn quiet.

"The transport room on their end just got buried in rubble and sea water." Rodney shook his head in frustration. "I think this friggen complex is haunted, because this is getting ridiculous. How far is the nearest building in relation to them, Radek?"

Zelenka punched up a few calculations and images. "It would take them half of night to walk under normal circumstances. Bearing injured in a storm like this…"

"Yeah, yeah." Rodney glared at the screen. "Not to mention the sea creeping forward. I don't like those odds. We're gonna have to get a jumper out there."

"And it would fly out of the gate room how?"

McKay cursed. "Good question." He hovered between the transport pad and Radek's control panel, trying to deduce where he was most likely to find the answers he so desperately sought.

The Czech scientist waved his arms, the panic of the moment catching on. "Well, I would think! But without the data to confirm such a hypothesis our people are, how you say, screwed?" The panel beeped, drawing his attention.

A long moment of rushing and muttering passed between the gentlemen in the control room. Rodney stared, waiting for word on what the next problem would be, if that noise he just heard was any indication. When lights started flashing and the loud call of an alarm hit the air he knew it had to be bad. "What's going on?"

Zelenka stopped hissing in his own language, stared at the panel with wide eyes, then said hastily. "Nothing. I mean I'm sure I'm wrong."

"What are you talking about?" McKay growled. He had to admit he was feeling mildly freaked out by the other man's response. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Zelenka insisted, fingers racing over the panel. "Nothing. I hope it's nothing. I have to be wrong."

There certainly was something going on. "Radek, this is not the merry sound of nothing! Would you friggen tell me what it is?"

The scientist turned with a very solemn expression. He pointed at the panel as if it were a death warrant. "Tell me that I am wrong, Rodney."

McKay stared at the panel with a sinking feeling and replied, "Oh crap."

Rapidly moving footfalls woke the doctor from a pleasant unconsciousness. Shortly after Sheppard's fall and Carson's subsequent attempts to revive him, heralded by the imaginary fanfare of Heaven's greatest choir Major Lorne had appeared with angels dressed in field gear flanking his sides.

Safety at last! Carson had given himself over to the care of medics urging him back onto a stretcher and the last thing he saw were the concerned blue eyes of one of the Italian nurse that had transferred to Atlantis a week ago. Exhaustion had robbed him of any further ability to remain awake, so he let himself drift off without a fight.

Steady beeping, hushed voices and the metallic clang of medical tools being jostled was what he should be hearing right now, or so he would have thought. It felt like he had slept forever. But it was rainfall that met his ears, and the rushed tones of a soldier reporting to an officer. Judging from the hard surface beneath his back, Carson didn't think he was in the infirmary. He opened his eyes and saw lightening flash along a rocky ceiling above him.

Momentarily confused as his mind fought to complete consciousness, Carson gasped and sat up rapidly, then fell back as a wave of dizziness flooded him. "Calm down, Doctor," a voice ordered from nearby. He dragged his eyelids back open as Major Lorne came to stand over him, laying a steadying hand on his shoulder.

He remained on the makeshift rock bed as the realization he was still safe dawned on him. "What's goin' on? Where's Colonel Sheppard?"

Lorne's expression remained neutral, but there had been a flicker there at the end of Carson's questions. "We have a little situation, Doctor."

Carson sighed. "Lad, I just been through Hell an' back. No need ta sugar coat it."

"Fair enough." The Major looked at him a moment. "We're stuck here for a little bit. The complex collapsed where the transport rings are. There's no way we're getting back to the Stargate by foot, so we have to wait for a jumper. Unfortunately, the storm is giving us a little trouble with the radios. It's a monster."

"Lord, I swear," Carson lamented, glaring at the ceiling. "I'll never get off this planet."

Lorne smiled at him. "Now, now, Doc. Don't be pessimistic."

Beckett wanted to give him an incredulous look, but didn't have the energy. He settled for what he figured was a pitiful expression of confusion, judging by the speculative look the Major fixed on him. He ignored that for the moment. "Where's Sheppard?"

There was that flicker again. Carson knit his brow and Lorne relented. "He's in another part of the cave, not far," he nodded with his head. "He's unconscious, Doc, but don't worry. There are medics taking good care of him as we speak."

After throwing his friend a glance, the doctor again tried to push himself into a sitting position so he could see about the Colonel. The attempt was followed up by a firm denial by Major Lorne's hand on him. "I don't think so."

"Major," Carson began impatiently.

Lorne shook his head. "They'll handle it. There's nothing for you to worry about. You're as pale as a ghost and in no better shape than he is. Would you want him to get up if he had been the first to awaken?"

"Well…"

"See? We'll get you both out of here, Doc. Don't worry." The Major watched him with a gentle resolve that ultimately made Carson settle.

"Is he a' right otherwise?" he asked earnestly. "They takin' care o'his shoulder?"

Major Lorne nodded without hesitation. "He'll be just fine."

It was little comfort, but seeing as his energy was at an all time low, Beckett had little choice but to give in to the Major's suggestion. He leaned back to placate the man above him and asked, "What about the flood?"

The other man gave him a look. "I won't lie. Getting to this cave was a hell of a run, but don't worry. We're on high ground." He looked the doctor over, then turned towards one of the medics. "Towel?" Moments later one was tossed and Lorne handed it and a power bar to Beckett. "How are you feeling?"

Carson accepted the towel gratefully, bringing the warm softness to his face and hair. "Thanks, son. And I feel like I been hit by a ruddy jumper."

Lorne shook his head. "Well, just relax. We'll have you back on Atlantis in no time." With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, the Major retreated to the beckon of one of the soldiers.

The doctor toweled off his hair, then set the cloth down at his side. He held the power bar in his hand with the full intention of tearing it open as he waited for his senses to settle. There was a dull ache in his midsection where food should be, but unfortunately suffering from vertigo didn't accommodate such ideas very well.

Carson glared at the ceiling, thinking of Aerien. It felt almost unreal now, like some sort of fantasy he had had. Or was this the fantasy? Any minute now he expected to have this semblance of peace ripped away from him. He knew Aerien was dead, and yet it didn't feel like it.

Now that his adrenaline had faded he could fully appreciate just how exhausted he really was. It seemed laughable that not long ago he had been able to stand and aim a gun. His head was still pounding, but of course there was nothing new there. He idly wondered if it would ever go away. It frightened him to think that Aerien's ministrations may have lasting physical effects.

Not to mention the psychological ones. He closed his eyes, fists clenched, power bar long forgotten on his chest. He had found the light, found the will to fight, but the darkness was still there, still taunting him from deep within.

No, he thought to himself, trying to shove those thoughts away. Carson forced himself to take several deep breaths. It was neither the time nor the place to let himself succumb to the tide he could feel welling inside him.

Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he searched his memories for something else to think about for a little while and came back with a song his mother used to sing when she went about the housework. It was a stupid little tune, really, about a sailor and his bonnie lass, and he wasn't even sure what brought it to his mind just then. But the words didn't matter. It was searching for them that kept him distracted from going back down the road of what he had been through.

He didn't even notice when his thoughts started to get hazy. Not until sometime later when he woke up to the sound of a loud roar of thunder outside. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head, seeing Lorne talking with Ronon. It couldn't have been a long nap, to be sure, but it startled Carson that he had slipped away so easily at all.

With a certain amount of effort he managed to sit up, catching the power bar as it slid down his chest. He leaned back against the wall and opened the package tentatively. The first bite was like an explosion of taste to a tongue that hadn't partaken of anything in days. The doctor winced at the flavor, but forced himself to swallow, knowing he needed to get his strength back. About halfway through his stomach denied further access. He wrapped the remainder up and pocketed it.

His little meal was about to be interrupted anyway, it seemed, for there was a medic heading straight towards him, medical kit in hand. She looked surprised to see him sitting. "Hello, Dr. Beckett. Just look at you."

"Aye, lass," he said wanly. "I live on the edge. Are ya here ta torment me?"

She removed a digital thermometer from the bag and aimed for him, saying, "Sure am. You know the drill."

He made a face when she put it in his ear. Still, this was an opportunity to inquire about Sheppard's health. "How is the Colonel?"

He didn't miss the gravity that seemed to appear in her eyes as she drew the temperature gauge back. "He's lost a lot of blood," she confessed, peering into his eyes to search for any bad signs. "Don't worry. They're taking care of him. What about you? Symptoms?"

"Mind blowin' exhaustion, love," he replied dryly. "I'm no' sure how many o'me ills you'll be able ta treat, given the nature of how they came about. Has Colonel Sheppard awakened?"

She shook her head and reached into the medical kit for a vial and a syringe. "Painkillers," she informed him, adding, "You're a bit dehydrated, you know." He grunted. Having sink water as the only thing one could drink in between torture sessions hadn't been the highlight of this particular expedition.

"I better get in there," he decided as he held out his arm for injection.

"Major Lorne said you should rest and I agree with him."

Carson watched the fluid as it drained into him. "Sheppard needs me. I'll be a'right, lass." When she was finished he immediately tried to stand, an attempt that saw him toppling forward.

Gasping, the medic steadied him on his feet and pursed her lips. "Love the kitteny look, Dr. Beckett, but you're going to wear yourself out."

"Aye, perhaps, but I'm goin' nonetheless." He straightened and headed towards the portion of the cave where his friend was being tended, murmuring, "Kitteny?" with a sigh.

None impeded his pathway to Colonel Sheppard. Lorne noticed his movement, but said nothing to stop him. His steps were slow and necessarily measured.

It was cold in the cave, cold and dark. He drew his arms around himself as he made his way through shadows to where the medics were gathered around a burden on the floor. Sheppard was white. His eyes were closed, his body shivering ever so noticeably. Carson sidestepped one of the medics and knelt on the floor beside his friend.

Sweat beaded on Sheppard's forehead. Carson took a deep breath and touched the other man's clammy skin, then started when he opened his eyes. A tired, lopsided grin cross the Colonel's features. "They tell me we're screwed," he said, closing his eyes again.

"Aye." Carson watched Sheppard take a deep breath. "Lad, tell me what yer feelin'."

John opened one eye. "Like I been shot, Doc." He took a deep breath. "They gave me morphine, though. Wasn't that nice?"

After a quick look over Carson saw there was nothing he could do that hadn't already been done. "We administered an antibiotic to reduce the risk of infection," one of the medics said to him as he added another cloth to the wound.

"How much blood has he lost?" he asked, looking up. He could still hear the sound of the gunshots in his thoughts.

The medic's reply was serious. "Enough, Doctor. We've got him out of immediate danger, but if we don't get back to the Stargate…"

There was no need to finish that sentence. Beckett glared helplessly at the ground beneath him for a moment. Sheppard watched him. "Don't worry. I still have that free ticket through the rough and tumble, remember?"

"Aye, ya do, son," Carson replied with a wry look. He sighed. "I canna believe we're still stuck here on this bloody rock. I'll no' be goin' offworld again w'ya any time soon, that's for sure."

Sheppard snorted. "Maybe Aerien's still around, ya think?" he suggested wearily, waving his fingers. "He could've…you know…he had control of his own energy, anyway."

The doctor widened his eyes in horror. "Lad! Ya…ya dunna believe that, d'ya?"

"Don't know," John replied, his gaze hazily fixed upon the ceiling as if trying to peer through the drug induced fog. He glanced at Carson with a knit brow. "I'd kick his ass if my own wasn't already kicked." He paused for a minute, then concluded, "And if he wasn't dead."

Carson yawned, John's sleepy meanderings reminding him of his own lack of energy. But he wouldn't sleep while the Colonel was still in danger. Not if he could help it.

In retrospect he supposed leaning against the wall beside Sheppard's head hadn't been the brightest idea in terms of staying alert. Fortunately just as he had started to nod off someone kneeling nearby brought him out of it. He opened his eyes and peered into the face of Major Lorne, whose expression was unlike any he had ever seen on the other man. He was pale, but composed, and his eyes very grave as he reached for John's shoulder. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"He needs rest, lad," Beckett warned gently.

Lorne gazed at him for a long moment, then went back to rousing Sheppard, who awakened after another call of his name. "Going home already?" he asked wearily.

The Major shook his head. "Sir, I've just been given some disturbing news. I have no way of knowing if they're sending a jumper to find us or not."

"Yeah? I'm sure given time…"

"That's just it, Sir." Lorne knit his brow. "We're running out of time. The storm is gaining in momentum and strength, Colonel."

Sheppard let out a deep breath. "Right. So we move to another area and wait it out where it's safe."

Lorne shook his head. "I gave the order to find such a place. It doesn't exist." He glanced at Beckett. "The storm is a planet-wide occurrence. There is nowhere safe, and if Lt. Creedy's projections are correct there isn't going to be an anywhere soon."

"What are we saying, exactly? My head's a bit fuzzy." John shook his head, looking at Carson to see if he understood.

Carson thought he did and all too well. His suspicions were confirmed when the Major said, "Sir, whatever happened while you were here…it's destroying the planet."

"Is there anythin' we can do?" Carson asked softly, his throat and chest suddenly tight. There were people here on this planet.

Lorne shook his head. "It's already happening. There's no stopping it."

Thanks all! 2 more chapters:-O Glad you've enjoyed so far!