A/N: Hey! I had time to write the next chapter already! Woo-Hoo! This is fun! Enjoy! Emrys.
As John had collapsed into a crumpled heap at his feet, Rodney had begun to struggle furiously against the Netharians who all too quickly had changed in status from friends to foes. But all he had received for his efforts was a ringing blow to his head and the sudden surfacing of a strong sense of futility. He had followed the Colonel's descent to the floor, and the next conscious vision he had had was of his team-leader's unconscious form as it was easily hefted up and away by the bulkier of the two Netharian guards.
Rodney had begun to shout angry words and had almost made it back onto his feet when he was grabbed by the second guard and summarily dragged away in the opposite direction of his friend.
And now, here he was, sitting uselessly on a luxurious bed in a room that was both delicately beautiful and frustratingly locked. He had inspected the room for an avenue of escape but was not surprised to find no such blessing at his disposal. Even ripping apart one of the filigreed door panels in an attempt to open the door by using a fancy engineering technique had proven useless. The machinery within the panel held only a passing resemblance to the Ancient technology with which he was familiar, and although he had determined some manner of its inner workings, he could not get the mechanism to respond. Rodney wondered if the technology would react to the presence of a naturally inherited Ancient gene, and not for the first time, wished that Sheppard were with him.
He was worried about the man. The greedy look that had clouded Sandrina's expression when the Colonel had activated the Ancient light had been terrible to look at and had spoken of many not-so-nice things to come. And Rodney was sick to death of being put into hapless situations by the overly cocky, thoroughly irritating, jinxed with the worst luck ever flyboy who also happened to be his best friend. Enough was enough already! Couldn't they have one mission where things went the way they were intended to go?
The situation was made worse when considering that he had no way of knowing where Teyla and Ronan had been taken or if they were even still alive. With the added fact that Sheppard's circumstances were dodgy at best, and, well, that Rodney's head hurt from the knock it had received earlier, and then things were looking downright abysmal.
Suddenly overcome by an overriding need to pace about the room, Rodney resisted the urge to let off the nervous energy he felt and laid back into the plush and decadent pillows of the bed. Better to rest and store up his energy until a moment of escape presented itself than to waste the energy on pointless pacing.
He had only been resting for five minutes at most, when the door to his grandiose prison cell made a clicking noise and then unceremoniously opened. Rodney lunged towards the entrance in an effort to judge his chances of escape, but he was surprised by the appearance of one of the tall Netharian guards carrying the limp form of Sheppard within his arms. At the sight of his friend, Rodney experienced relief so great that he only managed to make it back to the edge of the bed before he huffed out a withheld breath and sat solidly on the lavish mattress.
Although an escape attempt now was certainly out of the question, Rodney did not care since he had gotten his wish to see the Colonel and to ascertain the man's condition. He managed to pull himself away from the bed when the guard indicated that he was going to deposit the unconscious Sheppard onto the mattress. After the guard withdrew, McKay took a concerted look at his friend and was not sure that he liked what he was seeing. He reached for Sheppard's wrist and was relieved to find a strong and steady pulse under the skin, but he did not care for the pale and clammy appearance the reclining man posed.
"He will awaken within the hour."
The voice was low and melodious, and its sudden sound scared the crap out of him. He had not heard the Netharian woman's entrance into the room, and after taking a look at her, he could understand why. The woman was incredibly delicate and probably wouldn't make a whisper of sound as she moved. That the woman wore what appeared to be stark, medical garb, and that Sheppard was wearing what had to be the equivalent of white hospital scrubs was alarming to Rodney. He stared at the dainty Netharian woman and felt ice invade his blood vessels when he involuntarily considered the atrocities medical personnel could have done to an unconscious and vulnerable Sheppard.
"What have you done to him?" McKay asked coldly.
"As I have already stated, Colonel Sheppard will be fine within the hour," the Netharian said with a graceful shake of her long, dark hair. "We only had to sedate him, since he was becoming agitated. Sandrina thought that he would be more comfortable residing with one of his friends until the testing is completed."
The chill within him heated into fast anger as he realized the implications of her statements. Taking a belligerent step towards the Netharian, he berated her in gunshot tones.
"What testing? What have you done to him? You have no right to do this to him!"
The woman only ignored him and took out an alien instrument of some sort. She waved it vaguely in the direction of Sheppard, tapped onto its screen for a few moments, and then shook her head sadly.
"This situation just is not ideal for the testing," she said morosely to herself. "But I suppose it cannot be helped." She then turned away from Sheppard and headed towards the doorway, practically ignoring a still-confused and infuriated McKay.
"What in the hell is going on?" Rodney yelled.
"Keep him comfortable, Doctor McKay. I will return within two hours to check his status, and I will continue the check-ups at regular intervals after that. Good afternoon." The instructions were nonchalantly called over her shoulder just as she left the room.
Rodney stared disbelievingly at the door that closed behind her, and it took him conscious effort to close his open mouth.
888
True to the Netharian woman's claims, John struggled to consciousness within the hour. To Rodney's eye; however, the man was anything but fine. Sheppard must have been given a heavy dose of sedative, because even with his eyes open and consciousness returning, the man was lethargic and far from able to carry on a decent conversation.
"M'Kay?"
"Yes, yes, I'm here," Rodney assured the glassy-eyed man of his presence by hovering nearby. The Colonel made a few, floppy attempts to sit up, but gave up when dizziness swarmed over his vision.
"Lay still!" Rodney instructed snappily. "You're turning a particularly ugly shade of green, and I absolutely refuse to clean up vomit. Performing feats of absolute genius, killing life-sucking Wraith, and generally saving the day, why, yes, those things are all part of my job description. But nowhere does it say that I have to clean up vomit."
John's response was to groan and grind his teeth against another strong bout of nausea. He lay still as he tried to maintain control, but still managed to find the strength to chastise Rodney.
"Shut…hell up, M'Kay," he ground out and then closed his eyes as a burning sensation climbed up into his throat. He shut his mouth tightly against the uncomfortable feeling of an impending bout of sickness but somehow, thankfully, managed to regain control.
Relaxing into the blankets, he breathed a gentle sigh of relief and shivered in reaction to the lingering effects of the sedative.
"Where…we?" John asked after a moment. The words were hoarsely spoken from between violently chattering teeth.
"It looks like some sort of bedroom," McKay said while pulling blankets up over the top of Sheppard's shoulders. John grasped the warm covers with shaking hands, and pressed his face into their sleek, textured depths.
"You 'kay?" Sheppard grunted the question and opened his eyes to hazily study Rodney.
"Oh, just dandy!" Rodney exclaimed sarcastically. "We're locked in a room on an alien planet, Teyla and Ronan are nowhere to be found, you're one step away from throwing up all over the bed…."
"Don't…don't…remind me," Sheppard muttered, and Rodney shut up when he saw the colonel turn a few shades paler.
"I'm sorry, Colonel. It's just that I don't have any idea about what's happening. One minute I was having a perfectly pleasant scientific discussion with a very beautiful woman, and the next I was watching them carry your unconscious body away. You'll have to forgive me if I find it all just a bit disconcerting."
"S'okay," Sheppard slurred while clutching the blankets more securely. He blinked heavily, but fought the lassitude so that he could continue garnering information. "Teyla? Ronan?"
Rodney's eyes narrowed in concern. Hadn't he just mentioned that their other two teammates were nowhere to be seen?
"I don't know," Rodney said and then leaned closer to John in order to scrutinize him further. Sheppard's color was not good, and large beads of sweat slicked his forehead. Rodney reached out and wiped the sweat away with his shirtsleeve, and John jumped with surprise at the unbidden touch. Sheppard then groaned against yet another spell of queasiness, and Rodney clasped the man's shoulder in an offer of comfort.
"What did they do to you?" Rodney asked, worriedly, but John was apparently in no condition to respond since he only closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate on regulating his breathing. After a moment, he seemed to have gathered control of himself once more, and he eyed McKay blearily.
"Ideas…getting…out?" he asked through heavily panted breaths.
"There are no obvious exits, other than the door, of course," McKay began. "I tried to rig the door's locking mechanism to release, but the technology isn't responding to me. I think that you might have a better chance of initiating the correct sequence since you have the ATA gene. It's worth a shot, anyway, but I think we should wait until after Mighty Midget comes back."
Sheppard grunted in a way that could have been construed as a painfully weak laugh.
"Mighty….Midg…et?" he asked softly.
"She's the most petite Netharian I've seen so far!" McKay exclaimed. "Quite an irritating woman, actually, and she's coming back in...oh…I'd say about 45 minutes now, and I don't think we'd want her interrupting our escape plans. Besides, I'm betting that she brings the guards with her, and, well, my apologies, Colonel, but I don't think either one of us is in the condition to take on one of those gorillas."
Rodney expected some sort of response to his tirade, but Sheppard was not forthcoming. Sighing worriedly, Rodney checked his friend's pulse again, and bowed his head against the feeling of helplessness that assaulted him. He studied the closed eyes and too fast respiration of the sick man and brushed his hands nervously through his own hair.
"What did they do to you?" he whispered and pulled his fingers out of his hair, leaving it standing up gawkily.
"Hoffan…serum," the words coming from Sheppard were both unexpected and shocking, and Rodney sat down hard on the floor at the sound of them.
"The serum that Carson worked on? The one that killed….the Hoffan serum?" Rodney stuttered amazingly once he had some of his wits about him. "What? Did they inject you with that poison?"
"Mmmph, yes," John breathed the words, and Rodney thought he detected just the smallest touch of anxiety emanating from the colonel. "Feeding…Wraith…tomorrow."
"What!" Rodney's voice was a high-pitched squawk. "No way! Absolutely NOT! I will not allow that to happen! They must all be insane!"
"Mmmph. Tired," John said and then his breathing evened out and the hand that clasped the blankets relaxed incrementally.
Frightened, Rodney moved to sit on the bed and yet again felt for his friend's pulse. He eventually breathed a sigh of pure relief when he perceived the blood vessels in Sheppard's hand moving strongly and surely with his heart's beating. With Sheppard sleeping soundly beside him, McKay leaned back and hit his head several time against the ornately decorated headboard.