DISCLAIMER – Stargate: Atlantis is the property of MGM/UA and associates. I am not receiving compensation of any type, from any source, for the creation of this story. This is a work of fan fiction, created for the sole purpose of personal enjoyment.

Dr. Itzhak Perlman is my original character.

RATING – Due to violence, implied violence and other mature subject matter, I have changed the rating of this story to T

ARCHIVE – Feel free to add this story to any archives you want. All I ask is that you let me know where it is being archived. Thanks!

A/N – I just have to say I'm thrilled to death with all the responses this story is getting. When I started out writing it, I honestly didn't know if people would like it. I am so glad to see that people are enjoying it! Keep those amazing comments coming, because they encourage me more than you know. I appreciate each and every one who reads and replies to my work. Thank you!

This chapter is a bit longer than the others, and I've added Carson as a new POV character because I needed a third perspective for later chapters, though the main POV characters are still John and Rodney. Enjoy!

All Fun And Games

7. Blurred Reality Lines

This room is out to get us, John thought as he watched Radek tinkering with the crystals that controlled the door. The engineer looked more annoyed than anything else. John guessed he probably considered it an inconvenience, having to work on a stubborn door when there was something more important that needed his attention. John would have told him not to bother with the door just then if it hadn't been for the fact that Carson Beckett was on the other side of it. They needed Carson, especially considering the physical and mental state of the doctor who was currently in the room with them.

Shortly after discovering the door wouldn't open, John and Radek had heard Carson shouting from the corridor. Deciding his radio would be a more decorous way to communicate, John explained that they knew the door was stuck, they were working on it. Would Carson please be patient? Carson's voice over the radio sounded slightly embarrassed. Yes, of course he'd wait.

While Radek attempted to work his magic on the door, John checked on the room's other occupants. To John's untrained eye, Rodney seemed largely unchanged. Itzhak's condition was another matter entirely.

It didn't require the knowledge behind a medical degree to figure out that the man was in trouble. Itzhak still acted as if he was extremely cold. Huddled in his blanket with only his face showing, he stared fixedly at something John could not see. When John knelt beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder, the doctor let out an inarticulate yell and scuttled away from him.

The sound drew Radek's concentration away from what he was doing. He looked over his shoulder at John and Itzhak.

"What did you do to him?" Radek asked John.

John held up his hands. "Nothing," he said. "I was only trying to see if he's okay."

"He doesn't look okay."

"He's cold."

"How can he be cold? This room is exceptionally warm. I've noticed temperature increasing since I got here.

The last thing John wanted to hear was that Radek thought the room was rapidly becoming hotter. That was a bit too much like hearing Itzhak say the temperature was dropping perceptibly. John hadn't noticed any major fluctuations in temperature himself.

He had a terrible mental image of Radek ending up in a similar position to Itzhak, suffering from the perceived extreme temperature and terrified by things only he could hear and see. Distractedly, John wondered if it was possible for somebody to be literally frightened to death and if a hallucination could kill a person if they sincerely believed it was real.

John fixed the engineer with an appraising look. "This might sound like a really weird question, but you're not seeing anything strange, are you?"

"I see lots of strange things here, Colonel."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Are you hearing any explosions or seeing the Wraith?"

"No…" Radek elongated the single syllable. "I thought I heard running water, like a river, but I didn't see Wraith."

"Well…just let me know if you do, okay?"

"Okay." Radek seemed dubious. 'If I see Wraith, I'll tell you."

"If you see or hear anything unusual, tell me," John said.

"I will," Radek said. He went back to working on the door. Only half a minute passed before John heard him speak again. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yeah," John said.

"Should I tell you if I feel something?"

"Such as?"

"I felt someone touch my hand."

"Just now?"

"Yes," Radek said. "It was just the way Shadow does it when she wants to get my attention. She always—"

The engineer's sentence faded into silence as John watched him turn and peer at something invisible to John's eyes. Radek seemed confused, as if what he was seeing didn't quite match with what he knew to be the truth.

"Radek…?" John prompted him.

The engineer blinked and deliberately shook his head. "Sorry."

"What did you see?"

"Trees," Radek said. "For a moment, I thought I was outside, but that can't be right. We can't even see outside from this room, and the nearest trees are on the mainland."

John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Radek, we need to get the door open before we both end up like Dr. Perlman."

"Did Itzhak see and hear things before he became…like that?"

"I think he's still seeing and hearing things," John said. He glanced at Itzhak, who'd managed to move so that he was half under a table. "I'm not sure if he's fully aware of us or his actual surroundings any more."

"Do you really think that will happen to us?"

"I don't know," John said. "Let's just hope we're all out of here long before we reach that stage."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Rodney shot down two more Wraith darts before he reached the centre of the maze. Each time he scored a hit on the little enemy ships, he experienced a personal thrill of victory like nothing he'd ever felt in his non-virtual reality. Destroying the darts empowered him to a degree that surpassed mere ego. He felt positively heroic. Of course he knew the darts weren't real, but when they were flying at him and he was launching drones at them, it was hard to reconcile what he knew with what he believed he saw.

He hadn't forgotten he was supposed to be looking for a way to exit The Game, but he'd already decided he wouldn't let another Wraith survive long enough to get near him, virtual or not. Part of him didn't even care that the Wraith were game constructs. Blowing them up was the only logical option, as far as Rodney was concerned.

Leaving the debris of the final dart in the wake of his 'jumper, Rodney piloted the small craft down the last hundred metres of tunnel that led to the middle of the maze. The map on the heads-up display identified the maze's centre as one enormous open space. What the HUD didn't show him were the hundreds of black spheres which hung suspended in midair throughout the large central chamber.

Hover, Rodney commanded the 'jumper. Obediently, the ship glided to a stop and remained as motionless as the black spheres. Rodney stared at the spheres for several seconds before turning his eyes toward his two passengers.

"Okay, what are those things out there?" he demanded.

"Mines," mini-Radek told him.

"Mines?" Rodney echoed. "As in, weapons that kill you by means of a massive, fiery explosion if you get too close?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's comforting," Rodney said. "Let me guess. I'm supposed to fly through them to get to the other side, right? How am I supposed to navigate through a minefield?"

"Very carefully," said mini-Radek. "You can do it, Rodney. You destroyed all the darts."

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not the best 'jumper pilot around," Rodney said testily. "Besides, I wanted to kill the Wraith. Maybe I didn't mention it, but I don't like putting myself into situations that could lead to my demise. I really don't want to risk my own death by flying through a minefield."

"Your death in The Game is virtual. You aren't risking anything, yet."

"Yet?"

"You wish to succeed at The Game, don't you?"

"Well…no," Rodney said. "I mean, maybe if I knew more about it—"

"You can ask me everything you wish to know," said mini-Radek.

"I don't think you're programmed to tell me everything I want to know," said Rodney. "If I asked you the best course to take through the minefield, you wouldn't tell me that, would you?"

"That would defeat the challenge of solving the problem by yourself."

"Right," Rodney said. He drew in a lungful of air and exhaled slowly. "Well, here goes nothing. Remember, you were the one who said I could fly through this mess, so don't blame me if we end up meeting our virtual maker."

"I would never blame you, Rodney," mini-Radek said. "Shadow and I trust you."

Rodney didn't bother to say that he thought mini-Radek's trust was grossly misplaced. He eased the 'jumper out of the mouth of the tunnel and into the mine-laden central area of the maze. Using both visual judgment and information from the heads-up display, Rodney navigated the 'jumper over and around the mines. He was sure his heart stopped momentarily each time one of the bombs exploded anywhere near his ship.

He realized he was using up an incredible amount of physical and mental energy, concentrating on flying safely through the minefield. The closer he got to the tunnel that led away from the central chamber, the harder it became to control the 'jumper. He was irrationally afraid of making a mistake, of bumping one of the black spheres and causing it to explode. He kept trying to remind himself that it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing to let one of the mines 'kill' him, but he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that his virtual demise wasn't going to hurt.

He'd nearly reached the exit tunnel when Murphy's Law kicked in.

Mini-Shadow sneezed.

The sound startled Rodney, and just for a moment his concentration was broken. A mere moment was all the time it took for Rodney to let the 'jumper go off-course by a fraction of a metre. He felt the vibration of the sphere hitting the hull of the 'jumper, and he thought he actually heard the impact less than a second before the mine blew up.

In the ensuing blackness, Rodney groaned loudly. "We just died again, didn't we?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Got it!"

At the sound of Radek's triumphant voice, John looked up to see the previously sealed door neatly slide open. Radek, with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, passed a hand across his forehead as if he'd just put forth a monumental effort. He thinks he's too warm, John reminded himself as he watched the engineer. Aside from the fact Radek was acting as if he were overheated, he appeared perfectly fine. He hadn't mentioned seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary since he'd told John he thought he was outside. John took that for a positive sign.

A few seconds after the door retracted, Carson hurried into the room with an exclamation of, "Finally!"

"We did not anticipate the door failing to work," Radek said.

"No, I suppose you didn't," said Carson. "It's just a little frustrating when simple things don't work the way they're supposed to."

"This is Atlantis," John said. "Nothing's ever simple, and I'm pretty sure nothing ever works the way it's supposed to."

Carson's only response to that statement was a grimace, for which John couldn't blame him. The Scottish doctor observed his surroundings with a wary eye. He took several steps toward the far end of the room where Rodney's machine was located, but stopped in mid-stride and spun around to face John again.

"Where's Itzhak?" he said. "I thought he was here."

"He's here." John pointed to where the Israeli doctor had crawled completely under a table and had hidden in the most shadowy corner. "If you're doing triage, I'm pretty sure Dr. P needs your skills more than Rodney does. Anyway, Dr. P said there really isn't much we can do for Rodney until we get him out of the machine."

"Well, that's almost certainly true," Carson said. He bent from the waist and peered beneath Itzhak's table. "Good Lord! What happened to him?"

"I'm not really sure," John said. "He was fine when he got here. He was keeping an eye on Rodney, but then after we heard the Wraith dart, he said he was cold, and he started acting, you know…irrational."

Apparently, Carson had stopped listening beyond the point at which John mentioned the Wraith. He blurted, "What Wraith dart?"

"We thought we heard one," John said.

"In this room?"

"Yeah, but we only thought we heard it."

"Have you heard anything else?"

"Me? I've been hearing explosions, but they sound like they're far away," John said. "I heard one just a few minutes ago, actually."

"Me too," Radek interjected. "I thought I imagined that."

Carson frowned. "I didn't hear anything."

"It was before you came in," John said, and Radek nodded in agreement.

"I think I'd better have a look at you lads when I've finished with the other two," Carson said. "Colonel, do you know if Itzhak touched anything or ingested anything before he started displaying symptoms?"

"He touched a lot of stuff," said John. "He was playing with the Ancient Rubik's Cube for a long time, but I couldn't tell you exactly what else he touched besides that and Rodney and his medical stuff."

"Ancient Rubik's Cube?" Carson said. "What's that?"

John retrieved the grey cube and brought it to Carson. "It's this," he said. "It's some kind of Ancient puzzle, or something."

"It's not a puzzle," Radek said. He reached for the cube and Carson handed it to him. Turning it over in his hands, he explained, "It is security device. Rodney and I found some others just like this when we were exploring one day."

"How does it work?"

"It's like combination lock. From what we were able to determine, each cube matches its own specific sealed box. You arrange the pieces so they are the same as the pattern on the box." Radek said. He deftly turned the cube's moveable parts by way of demonstration. "When the cube is pressed onto the patterned area of the box, it opens."

"Cool," John said. "Well, at least it's not a weapon."

"Not a weapon," Radek agreed, and gave the cube back to John. "If you can find the box, I'll show you how it works. Now, I'm going to see about Rodney's machine."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Carson Beckett had tended a variety of patients in a multitude of odd locations, but he was quite certain this was the very first time he'd ever examined a full-grown man – one of his own colleagues, no less – hiding beneath a table.

Carson had been startled at his first sight of Itzhak curled up under there. He couldn't even think of a word to describe his friend's demeanour. 'Frightened' didn't seem adequate. Carson had never seen anyone so scared. The man looked traumatized, and Carson couldn't even begin to imagine what he might have been experiencing in his mind.

Even in the semi-darkness of the shadow cast by the large table, Carson could see how pale his friend's face was. Itzhak was breathing shallowly, rapidly, and when Carson placed his practiced fingers lightly against his friend's neck, he discovered a very rapid pulse, too.

It seemed to take a moment for Itzhak to realize he was being touched, but when he did his reaction was sudden and frantic. He swatted at Carson's fingers and commanded, "Get your hands off my throat!"

"I'm trying to help you," Carson said. "Do you understand?"

Itzhak said nothing for several seconds. He drew his hand inside the folds of the emergency blanket again, and settled more closely against the support structure holding the table in place.

"I'm cold," Itzhak said at last. "It's cold here. Raining. I don't like rain."

"What happened? Do you remember?"

"Cold…cold…"

"I know you're cold, son," Carson said. He grasped his friend firmly, but gently, by the shoulders. "Look at me, now. Can you tell me your name?"

"Itzhak Perlman."

"That's good, Itzhak. Do you know who I am?"

"Carson."

"Do you know where you are?"

"We don't have time for this," Itzhak said anxiously. "Can't you hear the soldiers? We have to leave right now. If they catch us, they'll never let us get out of here alive."

"No one's going to hurt you," said Carson. "I don't know what you're seeing and hearing, but I promise you, none of it is real. You're safe."

"No, we are not safe!" Itzhak insisted, his voice increasing in urgency and volume. "They torture their prisoners! Don't you understand that? They are going to make us suffer and then they're going to kill us!"

"Nobody's going to kill anybody."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Itzhak said. He pressed his palms over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. His voice was softer when he continued, but no less desperate. "You don't know what you're talking about. We were patrolling the northern border and I saw them kill our soldiers. They were killing civilians, too. I can hear the bombs…"

With a flash of insight that made his whole body tense in sympathetic reaction, Carson realized the things Itzhak was seeing and hearing might be genuine memories. Carson knew Itzhak had been a soldier before he'd become a doctor. The part of the world where Itzhak came from had never been peaceful at the best of times, and Carson guessed it was a rare soldier indeed who never faced danger in that place. If Itzhak was reliving part of an actual war, Carson could hardly fault him for being scared.

Carson caught hold of his friend's wrists and gently pulled his hands away from the sides of his head. "Itzhak, I need you to listen to me. Do you think you can do that, son? I want you to come out from under here, so I can examine you properly."

"No, no, no…" Itzhak tried to free his wrists from Carson's grip. "Let go of me! They're coming!"

"Nobody's coming."

"Yes…they…are!" Itzhak practically gasped out the words. He opened his eyes wide, and stared over Carson's shoulder as if the enemy might be right behind him. He looked as though he were about to say something else, but whatever it was, he didn't quite manage it. Slowly, he began to fall forward. It was only the presence of Carson's outstretched arms that stopped his inexorable descent.

Cached beneath a ten thousand year old table with his now unconscious friend in his arms, Carson began to feel more than a little fear of his own.

TBC
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