Their new hideout was nothing more than a space under an overhang caused by a fallen tree. The overturned roots created an additional wall, while the other side was overtaken by wild shrubbery, giving at least some sense of security.

It wasn't cold, but they were all tired and a little damp, so they sat close to each other for warmth and comfort. Soon the foliage glinted with raindrops as the grey light of the dawn rose and the group found solace in the fact, that their check-in deadline was quickly approaching. In an hour or two, Atlantis should be sending someone to check up on them.

They only hoped that the help won't be lost to the enemy camping by the Stargate.

They put the injured in the middle, to McKay's dismay. It was quickly forgotten, as he passed out from exhaustion and fever. Mallozzi took this opportunity to redress his wound, discarding the old gauze, soaked in blood and smelly puss. They briefly debated attempting to remove the bullet but it was agreed that it was too much of a risk, especially if their people were to get them back soon.

Donaldson didn't look so good, too. They suspected a small concussion, so they kept him awake, just in case. They busied him with calculations of how much farther they can walk in this terrain without losing radio contact with the gate, but their moods dropped when they realized that they're most probably beyond that point already. They stuck to the prime-not-prime after that.

After only a short while, McKay woke up with a gasp. They tried to make him rest again but he only muttered about a new nightmare in his collection and demanded to be propped up, because laying down was making it hard to breathe. His eyes were hooded but it was easy to notice him following something with his gaze, like he observed a person strolling back and forth.

"Spare me the pep-talk, will you," he muttered at some point, clearly answering to something only he could hear.

"No, but really. Even I'm surprised at how well this is going, all things considered," the not-Sheppard continued, strolling back and forth like he owned the place. "And since I'm you, it clearly means you don't think you're such a screw-up."

"As evidenced by me slowly dying in the bushes of an alien planet."

Rodney was vaguely aware that he shouldn't have said that out loud, for the ten frightened scientists to hear. His brain was screaming at him that this was not a thing one says, when one is responsible for the health and safety of people that rely on them. But he was just so tired. Sheppard, the real Sheppard, should have come with them. If he did, this responsibility would not be on Rodney's shoulders right now. He had his fill of being the brave one and he didn't like it. He got shot for it, made all the wrong decisions and was now feeling his body slowly giving up on him, as darkness loomed in the corners of his vision.

"McKay, you did everything you could, long before this trip. You secured the area weeks before them coming here, you protected them from being shot dead when unpredictable circumstances fell upon you, you led them to safety…"

"John, this was supposed to be a field trip. That is me quoting you, by the way," he snapped, agitation pressing on his sore chest, making it hard to focus. "They were supposed to relax in the sun, not run for their lives! If t-this is not… a screw-up… I don't e-even…"

Someone was shaking him lightly. He took a moment to catch some much needed, if pained, breath. His tunnel vision, focused on verbally attacking a figment of his fevered mind, receded a bit as he looked at Mallozzi's worried face.

"Doctor McKay, you need to calm down," the man was saying gently. "You're in a bad way, you can't exert yourself."

"Piss off, Joseph. What do you care."

He felt a simultaneous rush of satisfaction and guilt, as a hurt expression passed over the older man's face.

"That was mean, Rodney," John pouted theatrically.

"'T was s'pposed to be mean," McKay told him, feeling himself slipping into darkness for a split second. "Won't have… the.. the pity… and... worrying..."

"Too late for worrying, Sir," someone said from his other side. Xiang, was it? "But no pity. Pity gets us overtime, I imagine."

"Damn straight," Rodney answered gruffly, satisfied with the small chuckle he got in return.

God, he was tired.

Miko couldn't take it anymore. She was sick with worry for Doctor McKay. The more she watched of his delirious rambling, the more she prayed for help to arrive before it's too late.

He was holding up admirably, Miko was as impressed as they get. But how much longer? And how exactly will they get him to the gate? Even if help arrives, even if they find them on time, by some miracle, what will they do? A puddle jumper can't land here, the gate is swarmed by barbaric murderers… Hope was fading fast in her heart, as statistical probability coursed through her mind. And Miko Kusanagi was very good at calculating probability. The numbers were not looking good.

She felt helpless, and when she felt helpless, she felt the urge to do something. That's why currently, she was standing just outside the bushes that sheltered them from the morning breeze that rustled the tree crowns, craning her neck to look down the hill. Doctor McKay told them to stick together and not to wander off but she was almost certain that she could heard a stream in the distance. And stream meant water. Water they could drink, clean wounds with and use for cold compress to bring down a suffering man's fever…

A rustle near her announced someone's presence and Miko closed her eyes. Hewston was getting on her case, approaching her every time she stepped away to collect herself. She was all heart and consolation and…

"Don't move," she heard a harsh, male voice right in front. As her eyes flew wide open, she realized that it wasn't her colleague coming from behind, but a tall, leather-clad man holding a crude gun, pointed straight at her.

There was a commotion behind Kusanagi's back, as well as before her - more armed people emerged, forming a loose half-circle in front of their hideout.

Miko's blood ran cold.

"Finally found you, imposters," the man continued, smiling humorlessly and she whimpered, taking a step back. The gun pointed at her twitched.

"You will answer for the slaughter you commited. Who is your leader?"

She felt her voice catch in her throat, terror making her focus on the barrel of the rifle...

"That would be me."

And suddenly someone obscured her view of the man, moving smoothly between her and the gun. Not comprehending what's going on, she stared at the back of brown-haired head neck and the bloodied tac vest of Rodney McKay. Miko took another step back, reflexively.

Doctor McKay held himself stiffly, pain visible in the square of his arms. As Kusanagi slowly backed away, joining the rest of the science expedition, she watched him fold his hands awkwardly behind his back. She could almost imagine the stubborn tilt of his jaw.

"You? Don't look like one," the bandit scowled, looking the physicist up and down.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Are you the one that blew my men up?"

"Um, yes, of course. What do you think," they heard him scoff, "that this sorry lot could do that? They're a bunch of fact…"

He turned his head towards them and his face melted from a stern scowl to an urgent frown, as his gaze zeroed in on Doctor Zelenka.

"... I'm surprised that didn't run for cover when you arrived."

As he said this, his eyes visibly flickered to the side, where there was a wide gap between the wall of the cliff and the fallen tree. He must've seen something in Zelenka's eyes, as he set his face back in stone and turned back to his adversary. A soundless ripple went through their small group.

The man was talking again, but all Miko could focus on was Dr McKay's hand, still hidden behind his back, that spread open, then his thumb bent, then his pinky…

He was counting down.

"... and put your hands where I can see them!"

"Oh, certainly," was McKay's answer as his pointer finger folded, creating a perfect fist, which was soon sailing at his assailant.

It was all chaos after that. As Miko scrambled with the others to duck behind the tree trunk, from the corner of her eye she could see her boss launching himself at the man before him. Then there was a sound of two bodies hitting the ground, and loud gunshots as a gunfight broke out.

A gunfight?

Confused, Kusanagi glanced at the P90, slung uselessly over Esposito's back and the Beretta clasped in Zelenka's hand. Through her own panting while she ran, Miko could hear shouts and what she distinctly recognized as a blaster shot.

They sprinted around the cliff face, some two hundred meters, where they stopped, panting, and listened to the dying sounds of primitive rifles and what was clearly Earth military machine guns.

Silence fell over the woods, broken only by their hopeful breathing and Simpson's sobs of pain and fear. Doctor Zelenka backtracked a few steps, craning his head to head in the direction where their Chief Science Officer, his colleague and friend of over ten years, may have sacrificed himself for the second time in as many days to allow them escape. His whole body shook from fear and exhaustion, but he itched to know if, if…

He would not forgive himself if they lost Rodney today, on the second day of an unofficial science recreational field trip.

"Zelenka!" he could hear from the distance and a breath left his body he didn't know he was holding. A black-clad man was trekking down towards them. Radek gladly stepped out from behind the rocky wall.

"Colonel Sheppard," he called back, waving his hand. He then indicated to the rest of his group to follow him.

"The coast's clear," Sheppard said as soon as he reached them, "but we need to get going. there might be more of them here."

"Yes, yes. There are many patrols."

"Ok, let's get a move on."

They walked back as fast as the injuries amongst them allowed. Donaldson was slowly losing his battle with the concussion and Simpson was just about done over. Even Coleman, who so far fared admirably, was limping heavily up the hill. The sight of the rescue party nearly reduced them all to tears of relief.

Sheppard jogged the last twenty meters to the three other people and squatted next to Teyla who was gingerly checking on a man laying on the ground.

"Rodney…" Radek breathed and sped up to join them, his heart sinking.

"I have sent Ronon to retrieve the backboard from our jumper," Tayla was saying to the Colonel. "But we need to hurry, Rodney is not well."

"Yeah, I can see that. Radek, what the hell happened here?"

"We were attacked suddenly, the enemy killed the Marines. We had to run for our lives," was Zelenka's short version. He was too focused on observing Rodney's ashen face as it twitched and twisted into a scowl of semi-lucidity. By that time the rest of the science team joined them.

"And why are the ruins leveled to the ground?" Sheppard's voice was deceptively mild and Radek was grateful when it was Rodney who answered him:

"I d-didn't account for… ah… t-the chain r-reaction…"

"McKay," John groaned, "do you have to blow up everything?"

"H-hey, I resent t-that!"

"To be fair, there was a lot to account for," Mallozzi piped up from behind them, "and he got shot at before that. And fell down a ravine."

Sheppard threw him an unreadable glance and then looked up the hill, where Ronon was running with the backboard.

"He had worse and managed," the Colonel said.

"Way to... console... the dying man," Rodney grumbled. Suddenly, his unfocused eyes moved upwards and to the side and he groaned.

"Oh g-god, this is... so confusing," he muttered. John and Teyla reflexively looked up and then at each other, perplexed.

"Oh, yes," Radek said to Sheppard matter-of-factly, "apparently, he's been hallucinating you for four hours now."

He could only imagine the overtime he'll get, based on Rodney's glare.

Totally worth it.

"... So I figured that since all the reports are done, it's highly unfair that you get to warm your pale ass in the sun while your team's all cooped up on Atlantis. I switched duty with Reed, grabbed Teyla, Ronon, a few cans of beer… Thought we'd hang out."

Sheppard was rambling on as he carried the leg end of the backboard, trying not to be too obvious about his attempt at keeping Rodney conscious.

During the short trek to the puddle jumper (which was parked about half a kilometer down the hill, in a small clearing), he explained how they got to the scientists. Before their departure, McKay requested an additional puddle jumper to transport some of the Ancient machinery back to Atlantis, so the morning security swap was to fly over. Feeling guilty about ditching Rodney (that part he didn't admit aloud), John arranged for this impromptu Team Day Off, but as soon as they crossed the Gate, they were assaulted by a gang of Ronon wannabes. Seeing what happened at the expedition site, they started sweeping the area for Rodney's subdermal tracker and found them just in time to save the day.

And boy, did the day need saving.

McKay was hanging on by a thread and John had to focus all his willpower on stopping himself and Ronon from running with him to the jumper. Zelenka told him a bit more about what transpired in hushed tones and even though worrying, Rodney's conduct made John proud. And angry. Why did he get to be graced with a whiny, wimpy McKay, while his subordinates got one that walked five miles of mountain terrain with a gunshot and raging infection, while saving them twice?

Well, he knew why. Rodney was no coward, contrary to popular belief. He just liked for people to think that - cowards get killed much less, or so they say. His team mostly rolled with it, at least it was a good frustration outlet, to get McKay in line every once in a while.

"Yeah, having the time of my life," the physicist slurred in a brittle voice, pulling John back to their conversation.

"I imagine. Heard we had a long chat I wasn't a part of. Wanna tell me about it?"

"How about I focus on... not dying instead. And later on... not murdering a Czech in his sleep for... being a blabbermouth."

"The best Idea you had today. Hey, is that your hand bleeding, too?"

"Um…"

"Ho boy, Carson's gonna have your ass for that."

"I know."

"And he did such a nice stitching job, too!"

"Right?!"

Sheppard didn't exactly know why the scientists collectively found this particular quip so amusing.