Dark Element
Moments of Grey

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.

"Damn it!" Rodney swore viciously. His aching arm he kept cuddled to his chest protectively, while the other hand furiously banged into the terminal as if to knock some sense into the computer it was attached to. If he thought trying to wrestle information from it with two good hands was difficult, well that was nothing. He shook his head with a glare, murmuring, "I hate this machine."

Radek was in the gate room trying to find answers there, and telling Elizabeth the terrifying reality of their situation. Nearby a few marines were standing by in constant assessment of the situation. A nurse hovered near the physicist, trying to get him to remain calm.

How could he remain calm? They were here. His friends were trapped out there.

It was wrong. Completely wrong. The good guy did not die after being tortured to death by the Pegasus galaxy's answer to Dr. Frankenstein. "Not on my watch," he growled, searching the computer for some sort of command that would allow a jumper access to the outside world.

"Dr. McKay?" the medic nearby asked to clarify.

"Nothing," he responded, and then went back to ignoring her presence. He had no time for polite, for calm or anything else for that matter. He had to think.

The ground quaked beneath his feet and wind howled outside. They were running out of time, not only because the world itself was going to be going to Hell in a hand basket any moment, but because the building they were in was in danger of falling apart itself. There was a distinctly uncomfortable crunching of glass that accented his wayward thoughts of the weather. McKay glared through the shadows in the general direction of the noise.

Unfortunately, on top of drawing his busy attention it also reminded his military friends of the dire situation. One of the officers approached. Rodney knew it without even turning around, and so the voice that followed did not startle him when it said, "Dr. McKay, are you close to finding a solution?"

Rodney spared him a withering glance. "Yes," he lied blatantly, not in the mood for this foolishness.

"I'm going to have to insist on a quicker pace, Dr. McKay." His response tone suggested he knew the scientist was fudging the truth just a bit. "This place could collapse at any moment.

"Do you think I don't know that?" McKay yelled, wheeling around, throwing his arm up in frustration. "Believe me when I say that no one on the face of this planet and within this universe is more aware of the danger we are in than I am right this moment. Now shut up so that I can do this, okay?"

The soldier held his glare. "Five minutes."

"Five minutes? What is this, some sort of damn test? Dunham, isn't it? Well, Lieutenant Dunham, tell five minutes to the jumper that's going to appear inside a closed gate room! Of course this would be a lot easier if you'd just get some C4…"

"The amount of C4 required to reach the surface would take the Stargate down with it." The other man's voice was firm. "Five minutes."

McKay turned back around as the ground shivered once more. He was not going to get anywhere with this one. The most he could hope for would be to solve this thing before Mr. Nervous dragged him kicking and screaming back to the Stargate. Trust the military to expect even trouble to adhere to a specific timetable.

Five minutes came and went. Behind Rodney the lieutenant left in charge lifted his radio to his mouth. "Dr. Zelenka, have you found any way to open up the gate room?" he asked with that sort of firm finality of the military that got on McKay's nerves.

A few seconds of useless hope passed before Zelenka responded, "I am afraid not. Atlantis sent a jumper through, but so far no doorways have opened in response."

"Have you found anything via command console?"

"Negative." Zelenka sighed over the radio. "Rodney?"

The physicist glared at the marine, knowing what would come after he responded to Radek's question. "I got nothing." There was a crash in the distance. The ground rumbled.

The noises set their fates in stone. "We're out of time, Dr. McKay." The firm gaze of Lt. Dunham met McKay's without wavering, and all the scientist could do was wonder how he was going to convince this guy to let him keep trying.

"We can figure this out," he began, then slammed a fist down on the table when the other man shook his head. "Damn it, that's Sheppard out there! That's Lorne! And you're just going to sell them out?"

"I know what we're losing, McKay," Dunham barked angrily. "And I know we could lose a hell of a lot more if you and Dr. Zelenka happen to die along with them. There's a time to cut losses."

"And this is not one of them!" McKay forced himself to take a breath, trying to approach this with dignity. "Look, okay. Take Radek back to Atlantis. Let me stay here. Then you won't be losing everything."

The marine pointed angrily towards the darkened hallways that shivered from the forces being thrown against them. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, really, I do. I've served proudly on Lorne's team and would gladly die for him, or for Colonel Sheppard. But that doesn't mean I'm going to blind myself to the truth."

"Oh, and what is that?" McKay snapped.

The ground rumbled as if in response to the physicist's desperation, throwing all his efforts back into his face. Dunham looked vindicated. "This place is falling apart. Now you stop and ask yourself something. Would Sheppard or Beckett want you to kill yourself on a hopeless mission to save them, or would they want you to go on in spite of their fates? They know Atlantis needs you."

It was a good argument, but McKay had one better. He nodded obligingly. "Right. Sure. They would want me to go on. But I'll tell you something. If I were out there I know damn well they would fight until the very last minute for me. They've proved that many times over already. I owe it to them to keep trying until I think there's absolutely zero possibility of solving this. And right now I don't see that big zero. I'm staying."

"McKay…"

"Please."

Dunham looked poised to argue, but unexpectedly Ronon, who had been silent through much of this, stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall. Arms crossed, face set in grim determination, he flanked Rodney's left side. "I don't like this," Dunham said with a thinly veiled glare at the Satedan.

Ronon offered a challenging smile. "You don't have to."

Setting his jaw, the marine nodded in concession. He ignored Ronon completely, turning to face Rodney with a finger pointed. "Bring them back through that Gate if you step through it."

"Will do," McKay replied cynically as the other man and the medic retreated towards the transport rings. The scientist let out a breath and leaned against the console with his one good hand. "God, what the hell have I just done?"

Ronon wandered around to the other side to look him in the face. "You're a good friend," he said simply.

McKay shrugged. "Yeah, or a complete jackass."

He didn't miss the other man's smile. "Could be both."

Rodney shot a glare over the console, then went straight for the keys. There had to be a way to get a jumper through the gate room. More than once he caught himself distractedly what kind of moron would build the complex this way, but then he would think of Aerien and all would become clear again. Still, even Aerien was no fool. Yet there was nothing.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, rapidly brainstorming. "Can't get to them, so how do we bring them to us? Think, McKay." The floor shivered violently and a stream of water began to pour down a wall not twenty feet away. Both men watched in absent fascination as the dim lights shimmered across the surface of the trickle. McKay then looked at Ronon. "We're going to die horrible deaths, you know. You should have gone with Dunham."

The Satedan shook his head. "You might need me."

Probably not, McKay thought, but did not say aloud. He could understand why Ronon wanted to remain and wouldn't argue, particularly when he didn't have the time. So he went back to his favorite console, hoping beyond hope something came to him.

Something did. For a moment he blinked, thinking he was wrong, but it became quite clear that he was not. Rodney hovered for a split second, trying to follow his ideas to conclusion. "Holy…" he hissed, unable to contain his excitement. "I've got it. God, I'm good."

"McKay," Ronon rumbled, waiting for enlightenment.

The physicist pointed to a scanner lying abandoned on the console, then went rushing the display to conform to his idea. A symbol appeared. "Get that scanner through the transport rings. Go to this symbol and pray our radios hold."

Rain pelted against his face, a nagging force that kept him blinking. Sheppard showed no indication of his discomfort, however. He had the distinct feeling that being carried through the storm was the least of his worries. In retrospect, he decided he missed the cave. Sure, it had been drafty and it smelled funny, but it had kind of a homey feel to it as potential tombs went.

But the tomb was no more. The more violent the earthen floor trembled, the less stable their hidey-hole became. The rock that slammed down into one of the medics was the clincher.

He could hear Lorne barking something over the thunder, but what it was remained a mystery. Sheppard supposed it didn't matter, really, if they were going to die here. Now, he wasn't a pessimistic man by any means, but it really wasn't looking too good for the little band of Lanteans.

He groaned and shook a little puddle of rain out of his eyes, trying to focus. Where was Carson? John couldn't remember if he had seen him walking or being carried. He couldn't think of much beyond the hear and now.

And just as he had just about given up trying to figure out just when this planet was going to explode, he felt the world fall out from beneath him. There was a curse and the top half of his stretcher crashed to the mud, jarring him hard. Sheppard groped for his wounded shoulder with a cry of anguish as he slid onto the wet ground.

"I'm sorry, Colonel," someone whispers, someone who was flat on the dirt with him. John sat up weakly and looked through the drops streaming down his face into the face of a young marine. The boy was pale and shaken. Most of the green ones were when faced with death.

"I'm all right," Sheppard sighed. He leaned back in the mud for a long moment, trying to will the pain in his shoulder away.

Lorne inserted himself above the Colonel with a concerned expression. "Get the Colonel back on the stretcher," he ordered, shaking his head. "I wish we had a more comfortable mode of transport."

John waved his fingers weakly. "It's okay. Though next time it wouldn't hurt if my pall-bearers were half-naked women instead." He looked at the male marines carrying his stretcher and smiled. "No offense."

The Major grinned at him. "Funny man to the last, huh?"

In a few seconds he was hoisted back into the air. His eyelids seemed to fall of their own volition. "You know me. Where's Carson?"

"He's back there on a stretcher. He's out, but otherwise stable." Lorne moved to motion the caravan onward with a sweep of his hand, but stopped mid-way. John watched the Major gaze at something to the rear of their company. "There's someone coming." He held his P-90 ready.

"Might be one of ours," Sheppard cautioned him.

Lorne nodded in agreement, but remained prudently cautious. Covering his brow to see through the rain, he yelled, "Identify yourself!" to the person Sheppard could now hear slogging through the slick mud.

There was a muffled reply over the raging storm and then Lorne moved away to restate the question. John tried to listen, managing to make out a voice he did not recognize, asking about Teyla and Ronon. The two conversing voices moved closer, until finally Sheppard could see Lorne and an anonymous someone standing with him. Who it was, the Colonel couldn't hazard a guess.

"I tried to get back to the town, warn my people, but I couldn't. There's a huge whirlwind blocking the way. I came to warn Teyla and Ronon, but the Temple was destroyed, so I tracked you here," he was saying.

"It's a local, Colonel," Lorne explained, noting Sheppard's interest. He turned back towards the stranger. "Teyla and Ronon are safe. We could use some shelter, though. Is there anything nearby?"

The local pointed off towards the south without hesitation. "The Mausoleum of the Ancestors isn't too far away. The main chamber opens up under ground, which seems ideal in this situation, don't you think?"

Lorne nodded his head. "Won't argue with that, Mr. Cullen. Lead the way."

The stranger disappeared from Sheppard's view, leaving Lorne, who finished his sweeping gesture. "All right, people, let's move out. Follow after our new friend, here." He glanced down at Sheppard.

"A mausoleum?" John said with a grim smile. "Convenient."

"When this vacation's over, don't say I didn't provide all the basic amenities." The Major smirked and headed off towards the head of the procession.

And so John was back to counting the drops of rain smacking into his skin. The good news was he didn't think he was going to have to remain conscious for it. Sheppard closed his eyes, fully prepared to accept unconsciousness. But it never came. Try as he might, he couldn't let go of his awareness of what was going on. It got fuzzy, but the air was charged and the storm too powerful to ignore.

Even so, it surprised him when they finally stopped again. He hadn't expected the trek to ever end, but it did with the heavy sound of concrete being scraped against concrete. It was then he realized he had dozed off a few times.

The rain's insistent caress stopped in an instant. John opened blinked when the light on several P-90's filled the small stairway they descended. It was only a few steps to comfort at last. Sheppard was lain out on the floor beside Carson, who stirred in response to the sudden hard surface beneath him.

"We aren' dead yet?" he asked raggedly, moving to sit up. With a groan, he put a hand to his forehead and remained halfway between rising and remaining. "Where are we?"

John smirked despite himself. "Mausoleum."

Beckett peered at him from beneath his hand with a hard look, then laid back down. "Oh, good Lord, I'm sorry I woke up." The weary physician made the mistake of looking at what was behind his head, which was the end of a stone coffin. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Come on, Doc, at least we're dry."

"When's it gonna be over?"

"Don't be pessimistic." Sheppard offered a grin when the doctor looked at him again. The Colonel drew himself up into a seated position, relying on the coffin at his back to keep him up.

Lorne and a few marines were off exploring the back of the shelter, leaving them with a few to hold the entrance. Across the way John noticed Cullen sitting on the floor. "Why don't you come tell us about how you know Teyla and Ronon, hmm?" he asked politely, more looking to distract himself from the impending doom than anything else.

"Hmm?" Beckett mumbled, looking up. He propped himself on an elbow and watched Cullen move closer.

John nodded towards him. "One of the denizens of this charming planet."

He didn't miss the flinch, nor the distinctly pained look in the doctor's eyes as Cullen sat down. It didn't take much for Sheppard to figure out what Carson was feeling. He was feeling it too. One of the locals. One of the victims of their meddling. Sheppard sighed.

McKay took a bite of his third power bar. He was starting to realize just how tired he was, how much his arm ached. But he was so close. So freakingly, annoyingly, God-he-wished-this-was-over close. He stood alone in a dying building, listening to the screaming winds and crackling walls with trepidation.

Of course, that was nothing compared to where Ronon was. Apparently he had shown up in a tower on a hill, whose stairs leading to the only exit out had fallen apart due to age and the rumbling of the earth. Shining his light, taking a first step towards the death trap, Ronon had nearly fallen a good twenty feet. Luckily, he had caught himself and was now set about the work McKay had asked of him.

The physicist tapped his radio on. "Are you picking up any signals yet?"

Rainfall and wind sounded across the transmission. "Negative! I saw something briefly about three miles to the south, but they just disappeared. There's no way of telling if it was Sheppard."

"I know that," Rodney muttered impatiently. "Given the circumstances, however, I'd say I'm willing to go on a little faith that it was them and not some crazy band of natives having a picnic out in the middle of Armageddon. Look, can you lock the scanner onto an area approximating where you saw the life signs?"

A few seconds passed. "Yeah. Got it."

McKay rubbed at his temple, excitedly running through the next steps into what he hoped would be a brilliant rescue operation. "Good. Good. Keep it there." He snapped his fingers several times. "Okay, hang on a minute. I'm using the Ancient computer here to tap into the signal of the scanner."

"Would you mind telling me what this is all about? We're…" There was a substantial quake, which forced both McKay and Ronon into silence, trying to maintain their balance. When it was done, Ronon continued, "We're running out of time."

"Quiet a minute." McKay wiggled his fingers impatiently over the console buttons, watching the readout intensely. "Got it! Okay, I need you to come back through the rings. Leave the scanner there, on and locked, as close to the transport pad as you can without the falling rings crushing it."

Within the breadth of a minute Ronon returned to the room with a quiet, curious expression. He peered around McKay. "And this is gonna save them?"

The scientist gave him an irritated glance. "If it doesn't, may I be struck by a falling building. Oh gee. That's what's happening anyway, because you keep nagging me." He went back to the console. "I'm trying to recalibrate the transport rings to function sort of on the same basis as an Asgard transporter in terms of being able to pinpoint a selected target output for the wormhole based on where the scanner is locked. I can open the wormhole between the rings in here and those where you were, and in theory, hopefully use the scanner to sort of bounce the end of the wormhole to where the scanner is locked on, instead of within the space of the rings."

"In theory?"

McKay nodded as he worked. "Everything's a theory until someone tries it." A few tense moments passed. The console before him flashed with his every input, moving towards a goal he had in mind. "There!" He turned to Ronon. "I think it's gonna work."

"You think?"

"My think is not like your think, okay? It's much more accurate and reliable." He waved his hand. "Don't worry. Just get onto the transport pad. If I'm right, you should appear right where the scanner is locked on."

The Satedan hesitated for a second, then moved towards the other side of the room, standing within the eye of the rings. He turned around to watch Rodney, saying, "Hey, McKay."

"What?"

"Don't kill me."

The physicist gave him a reassuring nod, then started the process. The rings descended around his friend and white light engulfed him. Rodney let out a breath. "Good. As for getting them back to here…" He turned towards the console again.

Somewhere across the room a large, stone statue crashed against the floor. In a state of numbing, cold pain, suffering the effects of his blood loss, Sheppard shivered inwardly at the sound. He simply couldn't afford the energy it would cost to react like Beckett. Thought half-lidded eyes he saw the doctor jump in response to the loud crash. Cullen winced at the noise.

No one got up to see about it, though.

By now even the local was showing signs that he suspected this was the end. He didn't say anything, didn't ask any questions, but John could see it in his eyes with each tremor of the earth.

Across the way Lorne was sitting on one of the large coffins, his gun clutched dejectedly in his hand, lying limp across his lap. Sheppard sighed. Some battles couldn't be won with a weapon. The Major noticed his tired gaze. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Never better," he replied with a smirk. An ominous creaking rumbled in the shadows. He glanced upwards just as a trail of soot from above rained down on his legs. There was a large crack directly above where he, Carson and Cullen were congregated. "That has me a bit worried, though."

Another quake shook the mausoleum, followed by a loud banging noise towards the exit to the outside world. The quakes weren't stopping right away anymore. John groaned, the tremors making him feel nauseous. Somewhere nearby he could hear someone else reacting to his nausea, but he suspected it had more to do with impending doom than any physical ailment.

A chuck of ceiling fell to the floor between Sheppard and Lorne. The Major moved his eyes across the stone, on up to share a grave look. "I think we've got enough bullets," he suggested in low tones.

Sheppard nodded once. "Got a hand gun?" Lorne pulled one from a holster against his thigh and tossed it down into the Colonel's hands.

"Wait a minute," Carson broke in. "What exactly are we talkin' 'bout, here?" He asked the question, but looking into his face Sheppard suspected he knew the answer.

"Come on, Doc. Think about it. This ceiling is about to come down on us." Sheppard didn't like to suggest it to the doctor, his friend, whose life's work was to do no harm and who was generally a sensitive type.

He could see it reflected in those blue eyes, too. The fight between sanctity of life and quality of life. Should they go out with minimal pain or fight tooth and nail for every last minute of life? Carson ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I…I can' do that. I don'…I just…" He looked shaken.

John felt it. As a trained military man he had confronted the idea of death many times, but no matter how much a man does that he is never truly prepared for it to happen. Sheppard swallowed, trying to think of how to word his reply. In the end there was no delicate way to put it. "You want me to…?"

Carson widened his eyes, going pale as he shook his head before John could finish. "Lad, I…we can' be talkin' 'bout this."

Another stone hit the floor behind Lorne, who jumped up off the coffin and saw the debris not a foot behind him. He stared for a moment, then whirled when another piece of the ceiling cracked, sending a barrage of rocks into one of the marines nearby. He collapsed under the heavy weight, his flashlight forever doused by a crushing blow. It shot across the floor and slammed into the coffin at Sheppard's back.

His eyes were focused on that face, though. Tucker was a young man with a sly wit. He convulsed under the weight of the stones covering him, his brown eyes searching Lorne's as he reached up for help. Blood trickled from a wound in his forehead.

"Unfortunately, Doc, we don't have a choice," Sheppard told him in a forced tone. He swallowed and turned towards his friend. "That's gonna be us. Lorne tried to raise anyone over the radio. It's dead. There's not going to be a rescue."

Carson watched him with stricken eyes, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. "I never…I never thought about…" he mumbled, working his way through it.

Sheppard could remember feeling the same way the first time his drill sergeant had brought this up. "Yeah, I know. Who wants to?" He looked at the gun in his hand. "I won't make you do anything, Carson. I just need to know. Do you want me to make it easy on you?"

"Lad," the doctor replied in husky tones, his eyes watering. "What's easy about any o'this?"

"Nothing, really." John let out a weary breath. "We usually carry around pills. I'd give you mine, but Aerien took my jacket. I'm sorry, Carson."

Beckett said nothing, looking at the floor. A gunshot rang out, causing him to flinch. John didn't look over at where Tucker had been struck down. He didn't have to. Lorne was already moving back to where he had been seated before, his face drawn and white. Cullen had moved far away from any of them, clearly horrified by what he was hearing.

John fingered the gun in his hand, knowing he should be thinking about this problem, trying to figure out how to make it easier on his friends. But he just couldn't think at all. The ground shook and more stones rained down all around them.

The weight of a hand on his shoulder drew Sheppard out of his mindless reverie. He looked into Carson's crystalline eyes with a knot in his stomach as the doctor said, "I canna do it meself, lad. Lord, I don' know what ta do. This is unreal. I'm askin' my friend ta shoot me!"

"Are you?"

"Eager, are ye?" The doctor was joking, using it to cover the fear that caused his voice to shake. He gave Sheppard's shoulder a squeeze to show it when neither of them could crack a grin at the jest. The other half of the mausoleum collapsed in that instant, causing the remaining marines on the other side of the room to scurry away from the rubble. Beckett took a shuddering breath. "A'right, Lad. I trust ya."

Sheppard felt his pulse rise at those words. He looked up to make sure Carson looked like he knew what was doing. It frightened him to think he did. This was so insane, so unbelievably stupid. He shouldn't have to do this.

Carson didn't close his eyes. John could see that trust mirror back at him, which almost caused him to falter as he raised the gun. His friend looked breathless as the weapon met his temple, his chest rising fast and his fists clenched hard. Sheppard fingered the trigger, trying to make himself do this, thinking of Tucker, knowing he didn't want to see his friend suffer a death like that.

A loud scraping noise from the head of the room offered up the distraction his soul so desperately wanted. John looked up even as Lorne rushed the door, his P-90 aimed and ready for whatever enemy may be barging into the solemn party. Sheppard's heart pounded in his throat as what he was doing started to sink in.

The gun hit the floor with a metallic clatter when he laid eyes on Ronon. The Satedan rushed in from the blustery weather outside, yelling, "We have to get outside now! McKay's got a way to get us back!"

John let out the breath he hadn't even known he was holding. He glanced at Carson, who sat shaking, all color gone from his face. "Carson…" he said, not sure what he had meant to follow that with.

The doctor reached for his forearm, gave it a pat. "It's a'right, lad." Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back as if the last of his strength had just bled out of him. "We might jus' make it through after all."

"Yeah," John agreed with a grunt as Ronon knelt in front of him. He looked up at the bit warrior gratefully. "You don't know how glad I am to see you. You don't know."

The Satedan smiled. "Don't tell me you doubted we'd find a way to rescue you."

The Colonel let out a nervous laugh. "No. Not for a second."