Beware the Beauty by Naye (f**king freezing challenge)

[naye]

Title: Beware the Beauty
Author: naye
Characters: Team
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Wordcount: 9630
Notes: Gen, h/c. Set in early Season 4. Many, many thanks to xparrot for last-minute beta reading above and beyond the call of duty!
Summary: The team is having one of those days where the Pegasus galaxy proves that it really is out to get them.



"I think I'm getting a blister."

The words hung in the crystal silence under the majestic snow-capped mountain peaks like a pea in a sundae.

Of course, the experience of exploring alien worlds to the sound of mundane complaints held no novelty for John. He didn't even look back as he asked "Really?" without breaking his stride. Sure, the view was fantastic, with the frosty landscape reflecting the wan sunlight with such enthusiasm that John was wearing shades, but there was something to be said about breaking the monotony of their uphill trek.

"Yes," came Rodney's very sincere reply. "A big one, I think. On my toe."

This prompted John to exchange an amused glance with Teyla.

"If we turn back now, it probably won't break, so I won't have it get it infected and develop gangrene."

"We're almost there," John said. "If we turn back now, we'll have to come back again later and do this all over again to scout that cave."

"If I get gangrene I won't be walking anywhere anyway!"

"Want me to amputate?" Ronon's offer was met with a few seconds of stunned silence, and this time John did turn and look. A knife had appeared in Ronon's hand, and the indignant expression on Rodney's face spoke volumes-really funny volumes-even before the would-be gangrenous scientist found his voice again.

"What? No! Are you crazy, it's just a blister-you get that knife anywhere near me, and I swear I'll shoot!" Rodney took a couple of quick steps away from Ronon, clutching his P90 to his chest like a safety blanket.

Ronon slipped the knife back in his brace with an elaborate air of regret. "Okay."

Rodney still looked highly suspicious, and in scrambling up the frozen slope to increase the distance between himself and Ronon, he almost walked into Teyla, who turned away quickly to hide her grin. John decided to practice some leadership as a distraction before the situation really got loud.

"Picking up any readings?" he asked, and his initiative was rewarded by Rodney focusing his attention away from Ronon's expert use of reverse psychology. Or maybe it wasn't so much that it was expert as the fact that his words had been backed up by a very sharp blade they all knew Ronon could wield quite expertly.

"No," came Rodney's curt reply, after a quick glance at the little scanner in his gloved hands. "And I won't. You know why? Because we already checked from the jumper, and this is a waste of time-there's absolutely nothing here."

"There are caves," Teyla reminded him.

"And mountains," John couldn't resist adding.

"And snow," Ronon noted, helpfully.

Rodney's head swiveled as he pinned them each in turn with a hard glare. "All of which we know already, so why do we have to walk, on foot?"

"Do you want to be the guy explaining to the IOA why everyone on the new Alpha site ends up stark naked?"

Rodney huffed with annoyance. "Oh, what are the chances that there will be aggressive, cloth-devouring mold on more planets than the one Major Lorne so carelessly proclaimed habitable?"

John raised an eyebrow at him.

"There are a number of species of plants and animals that are common to many planets in the galaxy," Teyla reminded him.

"And there are plenty of dangers you can't see from a ship," Ronon pointed out.

They were both right, of course, and Rodney knew it. But he wouldn't let something as inconsequential as a couple of undeniable facts stop him. As they trudged along, and the dark opening in the sheer cliff up ahead grew bigger, he kept talking.

"Well, my parka isn't mysteriously disintegrating, we haven't seen any man-eating woolly mammoths or anything, and I'm not getting any readings. Do we really have to go into the caves? Wasn't there a storm coming?"

"We'll be fine. That weather system wasn't even close to this area." One of the advantages of scouting ahead by jumper was that they knew what kind of terrain, season and weather awaited them in more than just the immediate vicinity of the gate. You didn't have to read too many SGC reports to realize that the MALPs had their limits-plus, of course, flying jumpers was a lot more fun than sitting around looking at telemetry.

Rodney changed his approach. "Why caves, anyway? What does the SGC want with them?"

John shrugged. "Well, they might come in handy." That, and the SGC really did have a thing for underground bases. It probably came from hanging around under that mountain where they had kept their stargate for so long.

"Caves are good," Ronon said, a note of approval in his voice. John remembered where they had first met him, and wasn't surprised he would be of that opinion. Before Rodney could pounce on the wide variety of subjects regarding Ronon and living in caves that had just opened up, Teyla turned to him.

"Don't worry, Rodney. The Jatta bats hibernate in winter."

"The what? Bats? Did you say bats?" She had, and if they hadn't been walking through frozen wilderness, John would have leaned back in his seat to enjoy what promised to be a very interesting exchange.

"Jatta bats," Teyla confirmed, and John glanced over his shoulder to see Rodney's eyes go wide.

"They live in caves," Teyla continued. "But as we are in this planet's winter zone, they will probably be in their deep sleep, and will not disturb us."

"Except we'll be wading through their winter toilet-who knows how many diseases I could get from alien bat guano! And-wait. Disturb us? Why would bats want to disturb us?"

"The Jatta bats are-carnivorous." When John turned to look at them, she was all calm Pegasus guide, and Rodney was approximately three breaths away from high-pitched disbelief.

Three. Two. "Carnivorous bats?" And there it was, complete with flailing hands.

"Technically they're bloodsuckers," Ronon pitched in from below.

"Yes," Teyla agreed mildly. "It is said that a flock of Jatta bats can drain a grown man of blood before he runs out of breath for screaming."

Ronon shook his head, apparently disagreeing. "Nah. You've got a couple of minutes, at least."

"You know this-wait-how big are they?"

"Pretty big," Ronon answered with a grin. "And they taste really good."

Even John had to pause at that.

"You eat them?" Rodney's tone was more accusing than impressed.

Ronon shrugged. "It would've been stupid to waste the meat."

"I had not heard that they made good eating," Teyla mused in the tones of someone who was mentally composing a grocery list for next week's shopping.

"As long as they haven't fed recently," Ronon confirmed.

"And they live in caves? Like the one right there?"

"Relax, Rodney," John said. "Teyla says that they don't come out during the winter."

"But-giant bloodsucking bats! In caves!"

Better than bugs in caves, John thought, but what he said was, "Pretty cool, huh?" He was grinning at Rodney's very firm and loud disagreement on that point as he clambered around another bare outcropping, and found that the ground here was level with the gaping opening in the rock wall. They had arrived at their cave.

John stopped, and waited for the others to catch up. This mountain was more mesa or butte than peak, and here the steep hill became a sheer rock face. The gray cliff, with old snow crammed into every crevice and icicles clinging to it like a frozen waterfall, glittered in the pale winter sunlight. The entrance was strewn with broken chunks of ice-they'd have to watch for falling icicles, passing under that high arch. It was fringed with them, and easily large enough to admit one of McKay's hypothetical man-eating woolly mammoths, though it was dwarfed by the mass of solid rock around it. Angled away from the sun's rays, the shadows around the entrance thickened to an impenetrable gloom only a few feet inside the cave.

Rodney, who had been going on about rabies, paused as he stopped next to John. "Hm. It's pretty symmetrical," he observed, and quickly shed his gloves to better operate his scanner, eyes fixed on the small screen as he manipulated its settings.

Ronon seemed unimpressed, but Teyla turned around to look at the way they had come. John caught her thoughtful look, and when she noticed, she nodded at their path. "Look," she said. The gate down in the valley wasn't visible, but they had been able to make their way here without encountering any of the many obstacles that this kind of terrain was only too willing to offer.

"If the Ancestors had a path here, it is probably long gone, " Teyla remarked, and then went on to voice John's thoughts. "Still-it seems that the route that brought us here was very easy."

"We walked straight here," Ronon confirmed.

It had been over an hour's hard walk, and down on the ground John couldn't tell whether they'd followed a straight line or a giant crazy straw, but he trusted Ronon's sense of direction. "So there really could be some reason the Ancients built a gate here, other than that they enjoyed the scenery?" John liked that thought. Alpha sites were useful, but if the Ancients had been here, they might have left something behind. Maybe even something more interesting than ruins. Maybe even weapons-or ships.

"Well, if they did, I'm not getting any readings from it," Rodney said with a dismissive nod to the cave.

A ship wouldn't be giving off readings if it was all powered down. "Well, let's go in and have a look." John put his shades away, and headed in. They kept an eye out for any sign of nature's own missiles hurtling down on them, but the only thing moving was the ice crunching under their feet as they made their cautious way inside. John had expected the air in the cave to smell dank and musty, but it felt just as clear and cold as it had outside.

Rodney had his P90 up, and switched on the light mounted over the barrel with a fearful glance at the heavy darkness above them, obviously guarding against the bats of doom. John followed suit, and hoped the Ancients would have been clever enough to seal up any ships they left here tight enough that they wouldn't be contaminated with bat-of-doom guano. The beams from their two gun mount flashlights were enough to dispel the gloom significantly, and when Ronon turned on the big Maglite John had given
him, it was like they had flipped the switch to a thousand tiny lights.

"Wow," John said. Beside him, Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. With the shadows mostly banished, it was clear that there was nothing lurking in here that wanted to eat them. John contemplated putting his shades back on. The walls, the domed ceiling, even the floor, was covered in glittering crystals which showered the cave in uncountable little reflections of the light from their flashlights, and then reflections of the reflections. It was a bit like being in a small hangar that had been wallpapered with live welding sparks.

Teyla touched a gloved hand to the wall. "These are ice crystals," she said, and her fingers raised a cloud of shimmering dust where they trailed across the delicate surface. "Layers of frost."

"There's a passage here." Ronon had moved ahead of them, and indicated an opening in the far wall. It was another arch, high enough that Ronon could walk into the velvet shadow beneath it without ducking. He shone his beam down it, and it too came to life-white and blue and a million minuscule flashes of light.

Rodney was hot on his heels. "This place-I'm not getting any readings, but it's too symmetrical. I think there's a reason why coming out of this planet's gate leads you straight here." He tried to squeeze past Ronon in the tunnel, but the Satedan wasn't moving.

"There could still be bats," Ronon suggested mildly. Rodney took an alarmed step back, and John wandered over for a look down the passage.

"Looks solid enough." He nodded to Ronon, who let him pass. There was no telling how thick the layer of ice and frost had been in the big rock chamber, but it felt thicker here. He could see shades of deep blue under the reflective white, and it was almost as if the walls shone with an inner light. The tunnel wasn't very long, and when he stepped out of it was with the sense that he was in a smaller space than the one he had just left, though the narrow beam from his flashlight only gave him a vague idea of his surroundings. Ronon followed with the bigger light, and they took up positions on either side of the opening, waiting for Rodney and Teyla.

John's guess had been right-this was a smaller room. Its curved walls and domed ceiling sparkled as brightly as the ones in the cave they had first entered, but the shadows cast in here were the same twilight blue he had seen in the tunnel. There was something odd about the far wall, but John couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was just less shiny because it was further away from the source of light? Before he could investigate, Rodney burst through the opening, holding the scanner in one hand and waving the other about.

"Ah-hah! Readings! There really was something here after all-I'm getting some kind of energy signals from... there." He pointed to the far wall, and rushed off in that direction, head bent over the display. Teyla trailed behind him, an amused smile on her face.

"Very faint, so maybe-hey, what's this?" Rodney stopped in front of the wall, and peered at the surface in front of him. With the light aimed directly at it, John could make out a kind of pattern on it-soft white lines, twisting and turning, standing out from the wall like long strands of criss-crossed white rope. Rope-or vine.

"It appears to be some kind of plant," Teyla supplied from her position next to Rodney. She shone the beam of her gun's light over the surface nearest to them, twisting her neck to follow the intertwining stems reaching for the ceiling.

"That's weird," Rodney said with a frown. "Maybe they're what's giving off the reading? It's vague enough that it could be biological, but that shouldn't look like this." He fiddled with the scanner, and John checked out the vine over his parka-clad shoulder. The vine appeared to have been crafted by some master sculptor, using only the frozen elements of the cave. It was hard to believe that something so-so icy-looking could be a regular plant. The fuzzy hairs on the pale, white stem made it look like it was covered in new frost, and from here he could see clusters of small pointy leaves that could easily be mistaken for crystal shards. It was actually kind of pretty, in a Snow Queen kind of way.

John was just about to step up for a closer look, when several thing registered at once-Rodney was reaching to touch the vine, Rodney wasn't wearing gloves, and the plant moved.

Rodney yelped, trying to pull his hand back, but a pale vine was curled around his wrist, the thin, needle-sharp thorns on the stem drawing bright red drops of blood. John yelled a warning to the others, but Teyla was already there, grabbing at the tendril that had slithered around Rodney. This time John saw it happening clearly-the freaky mutant vine didn't strike like a snake-it struck like a whole nest of snakes, the web of vines on the wall twisting and slithering with un-plantlike determination, the loose ends seeming to growing longer to be able to wrap around Teyla's arm at an alarming speed.

"Hey, get it off me, get it off!" Rodney was yelling, real panic in his voice. Teyla was silent, concentrating on fighting off the tendrils that were wrapping around her and pulling her close, partially smashing her against Rodney. Movement only seemed to make it worse, though, and within seconds she was almost immobilized by a web of icy briars. It was hard to see if Rodney was doing any better.

"Careful," Teyla's command echoed sharply over Rodney's fear. "Keep your distance!"

It stopped John in his tracks-he couldn't let the plant get him, too. He bit the inside of his lip, and looked over at Ronon for ideas.

Ronon's idea was to use one of his big knives to hack at the plant over Teyla's head. He kept moving, not touching any part of the plant other than to slice and sever, and it seemed to be working.

Then Teyla screamed-a sound that chilled John to the bone. It was a scream of panic and pain, unlike anything he had ever heard from Teyla before. "What the fuck-Ronon, stop, now!" He didn't know what was happening, but they couldn't risk making it worse-he was as close as he dared, his field knife in one hand, the P90 still clutched in the other, keeping some light on the chaotic scene before him.

Ronon didn't listen. With a final sweep of his knife, he dodged forward, grabbed Teyla around the waist, and pulled with all his strength. There was a sickening sound, ripping and tearing, and for a moment John didn't know what had just torn and his stomach did a slow roll-then he saw Teyla in Ronon's arms, whole, free;and Rodney behind her, still tangled up in the vine, looking like someone had just punched him in the solar plexus, but all of his limbs were still attached.

John was terrified, furious, but there was no time for reproach now. "Ronon!" The big man stopped a couple of steps away from the wall, looking pale in the reflected glow of scattered flashlight beams. "How is she?" John sheathed his knife and rushed to Ronon's side, biting his glove to tear it off, and pressed two fingers to Teyla's neck. He felt the racing pulse right away.

"Still breathing," Ronon said gruffly, not quite steady.

With a quick nod of gratitude for that, John turned to his next immediate concern. "McKay!" He moved as fast as he could, stopping as close to Rodney as he dared. It was close enough to touch Rodney's parka if he reached out his hand, but he kept both hands clenched around the comforting weight of his P90, using its light to make out the details of what was going on. "Rodney, are you okay?"

Rodney was limp, slumping forward with one arm twisted awkwardly behind him, and vines had wrapped around the other arm, which was outstretched against the tangled mess of briars on the wall. There were a couple of tendrils looped over his chest and legs, too, white on black, and right now they seemed to be supporting his full weight.

"Rodney," John repeated, and he could hear the frantic edge to his own voice. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was just about to risk reaching forward to feel for a pulse when he heard a low groan.

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow." John looked over his shoulder at Ronon, sharing a moment of intense relief before focusing on Rodney again.

"Hey, Rodney."

"Ow." It was slightly louder this time, and sounded annoyed as well as pained.

"How are you doing?"

A faint rustle in the leaves of the intertvined vines accompanied Rodney's movement as he brought his head up, and straightened slightly. His blue eyes were dark and wide with shock, and there was blood on his cheek. "Oh, god. Please don't do that again."

He was talking. The tightness around John's chest loosened slightly. "Do what?"

"Whatever you did," Rodney croaked. All snarled up in vines, and he still managed to wave his hand about, gesturing vaguely in Ronon's direction. "That maniac with his knife-the knife cutting the plant. Everything just-" Rodney swallowed. "Just don't do it again." He didn't even sound angry. John's grip on the P90 tightened momentarily, but he managed to nod. Teyla's scream was still echoing in his mind.

"Okay, buddy. We won't, I promise." Before his reassurance could have any effect, Rodney's gaze narrowed, and he looked past John, over at Ronon. Ronon, who was holding Teyla's limp body in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. Rodney gasped, and made an involuntary movement, trying to step closer. John could see how the resulting thorns digging into him made him flinch, but this time he clenched his jaw against the pain.

"Teyla," he gasped. "How is she, is she alright-she isn't dead, is she?"

"Not yet," Ronon answered, just as John was saying "No."

At Rodney's horrified look, John gave Ronon a hard stare. "Nobody is going to die," he said.

"She needs a doctor." Ronon was as tense as John ever had seen him, arms wrapped protectively around Teyla's still form.

"She's not the only one!" Rodney exclaimed, a hint of the panic John had been expecting making his voice echo sharply in the icy cavern.

They were an hour away from the gate, and nobody was due to check in on them for several hours. But they needed to do something-there was no telling how badly hurt Teyla was. Ronon was right; she did need a doctor. But they couldn't leave Rodney hanging here like a fly in a spiderweb. John worried at his lower lip, looking at the wall, the ceiling, the vine. Looking from Rodney to Teyla and back again. Something. There had to be something they could do.

Before he could find that something, Ronon's voice interrupted him. "I'll take her back."

"What? No! You can't just leave me!" Rodney's voice was climbing, and he had started struggling against the vines again.

"I'll take her," Ronon repeated, "and get help. You stay here with McKay." John immediately hated that plan. It didn't help that it was their best option-it really sucked to split their team up in a situation like this. He didn't want to let Teyla out of his sight-but he couldn't leave Rodney behind, either.

With a visible effort, Rodney calmed himself, and managed to answer before John found the right words to fully express how much he did not want Ronon's plan to be their only option. "Go. Hurry up. Get her to Keller, and then get Keller to me. Now!"

Ronon wasted no time. He nodded, and turned. John jogged over to him before he ducked out into the tunnel. "Be careful," was all he could find to say. "Hurry back, and stay in touch on the radio, in case-" He was not going to say it. There was not going to be any 'in case'-what had already happened more than covered their quota of abysmally bad luck for one mission. "Just hurry back."

"I will." Now that he had something to do, Ronon sounded calm. Confident. "Look after McKay." He shifted Teyla slightly, passing John the knife he'd used to cut her free from the vines.

John accepted the blade with a nod, then stepped back, his attention fixed on Teyla. Still breathing. "Good luck." There was nothing else he could say.

"Don't fall down! Hurry back!" Rodney called after Ronon as he disappeared down the tunnel. "Don't forget to tell Keller to bring painkillers! Lots of painkillers! And something for my allergies, too-my skin is very sensitive, and these thorns are pricking me all over." The sound of Ronon's footsteps faded, and McKay slumped back against the vines that were holding him in place. "This sucks," he proclaimed.

"Tell me about it." John wandered over to where Ronon had dropped his flashlight, arranging it to give them the best light possible.

"But you're not the one stuck in a reject from The Little Shop of Horrors!"

John set the knife Ronon had given him down beside the flashlight, and then his P90, after detaching the flashlight from it. "We'll get you out of there."

"Oh, yeah? How?"

"I'm working on it," he said, because 'I have no fucking clue' wouldn't exactly be helpful in this situation.

"You have no clue, do you?"

John's jaw clenched. "I have a knife," he said, more sharply than he should have.

Rodney blanched visibly. "No! Really, no, that's a very, very bad idea."

"Okay," John agreed, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Then he cocked his head. "Why, exactly?"

"Because-" Rodney swallowed. "This plant-if it even is a plant at all, plants should not behave like this, and I think Katie will back me up on that-the plant with very sharp thorns hooked into my flesh? The plant that moves? Does not like getting cut up."

"Really."

"Yes, really! Look, I'm not asking you to believe houseplants have feelings or any other ridiculous nonsense some of those idiots pretending to be scientists have come up with, but-did you not see what just happened here?"

"I saw." And heard. There was no way he was going to risk the same thing happening to Rodney that had happened to Teyla.

John paced around the room, shining his flashlight over the glittering white walls, the shades of blue in the tunnel. The vines weren't moving, now, but he still eyed them warily. For a little while, neither of them spoke.

"Are my lips turning blue?"

"What?" John turned back from where he had been examining the tunnel, trying to figure out if it really had some kind of inner glow, or if it was all just a trick of the light. Not that he had any idea how a frozen light could help their situation. Rodney's voice was a welcome distraction from his frustration.

"My lips. Are they blue?"

John had to blink at the sight of Rodney with his lips pursed, eyes crossing as he peered down at them.

"No, they're-" There was no dignified way John could think of to say 'pink'. "They're lip colored," he concluded lamely.

"Really? Because I'm starting to feel cold. It's probably hypothermia. Or shock. Either one could kill me before Ronon brings help, you know."

"You're not going to die, McKay." When he spoke, his words were tinged with annoyance, but that didn't make them less true. No dying. It was the one rule he'd never allow anyone on his team to break.

"Don't let me start taking off my clothes. That's a really bad sign."

"Rodney."

"I think I may have stopped shivering. It's started already. Oh, god. Keller's going to have to pump me full of hot saline. My blood is going to be outside of my body!"

"Rodney."

"And we can't even share body heat! I mean, it's not that I want to, but if you come anywhere near me Audrey here is going to get you, and that's the only thing I can think of right now that could make this situation any worse than it already is. No! No, wait, I can think of more things. For one, there could be-"

"Rodney!"

There was a second of stunned silence, then Rodney blinked. John had moved to stand right in front of him, not more than a foot away.

"You're not hypothermic. You're not in shock. You're snagged on a plant. We'll get you down, and you'll be fine. Okay?" John was much better at this when he could goad McKay into some superhuman feat to save the day, but right now Rodney couldn't even scratch his own nose, so goading was right out.

"Okay." Rodney took a deep breath, exhaled a white plume of air. "Okay." A small shudder seemed to run through him.

Unable to stand another long, drawn-out silence, John tapped his radio. "Ronon," he called. "Any news on Teyla?"

Ronon's voice was jagged with static spikes, and slightly breathless. "No change." A slight hesitation, and then, "McKay?"

"He's hanging in there." John grinned at Rodney, but he got no reaction to the pun.

"Good." With that, the radio went silent again.

"So. How is your plan coming along?" Rodney asked.

John scowled.

"There's got to be something we can do..." Rodney twitched-probably trying to snap his fingers again. "A-hah! The scanner-the readings. I knew there was something odd about them, I just need to get a better look..." His face fell. "Oh, no."

"What?"

"I'm still holding it." Rodney twisted awkwardly, trying to work his pinned arm free, and this time John could see the vines around him tighten, pulling him back against the wall when he moved. "Oh, god." Rodney made an inarticulate sound of pain, and John tensed. McKay just gritted his teeth, and kept struggling. He had broken into a sweat, and his visible hand was getting slick with blood.

"Fuck." John licked his lips. "Rodney, stop. Stop it. Don't-you're making it worse."

Rodney looked pale and shaky, but he grinned triumphantly at John as he jerked his arm down, and managed to squeeze his hand between two vines, making their crystalline leaves tinkle. "Got it." He held the small scanner in a white-knuckled death grip.

When Rodney stilled, the vines stopped moving, and John relaxed slightly, asked. "If you drop it, do you think you can kick it over here?" He wasn't going to ask what good the scanner would do in their current situation, not after what Rodney had just done to get it to him.

It made for an awkward shuffle, and the scanner didn't get very far from Rodney's boots, but it worked. John crouched down and gingerly extracted it from the snow without incurring the vine's wrath. He peered at the screen. "Okay. What am I looking for?"

When he didn't immediately get an answer, he looked up, to find Rodney leaning heavily against the vines, even though the thorns had torn long gashes in his parka, and must be pressing close to his skin. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily. He looked much worse than he had just a minute ago. Crap. "Rodney?"

John could see Rodney swallow before he spoke. "Look for-energy. When we came in, there was a reading-I don't think it's the plant."

"Okay." John bit his lip. He could see the energy readings, but to his eyes there was nothing strange about them.

"Oh, just show me the screen!" John raised an eyebrow at Rodney's commanding tone, but was quick to do as he asked.

"Interesting. There, that-" Rodney shifted slightly, which was obviously a bad idea, if his hiss of pain was anything to go by. Again, McKay was usually so much about motion that John could see the effort it took him to be absolutely still. Another effort went into actually cutting to the chase with no more preamble. "I think this is a doorway," he said.

"What is?"

"The wall. The one behind the vines? It's not a wall, it's-a doorway. There's something behind it giving off those readings. That's what I was picking up."

"A doorway? To what?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I don't know. Something Ancient."

"So they built the caves?"

"Probably."

As interesting as that was, John wasn't seeing any spaceships, and knowing who built the cave wasn't going to get Rodney off the wall where he was doing his best impression of a bug caught by a spider. He was about to say something about that, when Rodney suddenly gasped for breath, and went absolutely rigid.

"Rodney, what's going on?" He managed to keep his voice level. Rodney screwed his eyes shut, and shook his head minutely.

John couldn't look away. His grip on the flashlight tightened so hard the ridges on the handle dug painfully into his hand, and he winced in sympathy as Rodney gulped desperately for air.

When Rodney finally opened his eyes, they were wide and frightened. "Oh, god." He slumped back against the wall-there wasn't much give, but he slid down as far as the vines would allow, until he was half sitting, with one arm by his side, and the other over his head. It looked remarkably uncomfortable-though comfort was probably the least of their problems at this point.

"What?"

"I thought I felt something earlier, but I didn't want to-" Rodney fought to keep his head up, and away from the cluster of leaves that had ended up by his shoulder, tangled in the white guts of his ripped parka. "There's something very, very wrong here, Sheppard."

"I thought we'd covered that already?" Rodney's blank stare at the attempted joke made a chill run up John's spine.

"No, I mean-the vine. Either I really am getting hypothermic already-which I could be, except that's not it, because the symptoms are all wrong-or it's..." Rodney swallowed. "I think it's feeding on me."

Even after a day like today, that particular piece of information was really hard to swallow. Mainly because John really didn't want to contemplate how inappropriate it had been to name this galaxy 'Pegasus', when they could just have gone for 'Little Shop of Horrors' and then people would know to stay away, and-was he really having this conversation? "It's-feeding on you? But it's a plant! How is that even possible for a plant?"

"I don't know!" As always, annoyance seemed to lend Rodney new energy. "Maybe it melded with some of Teyla's vampire bats! Remember, this is the galaxy where the wonders of genetic evolution have given us such treats as the Wraith. Hey-for all I know, the stupid Iratus bug is compatible with everything in the galaxy, and this ridiculous vine is actually the Wraith's second cousin! I don't know, Sheppard, I just know that it's got lots of little sharp needles in me, it's doing something, and it's not pleasant!"

So now a plant was trying to eat his scientist. Some days, John really, really hated the Pegasus galaxy. "When you say 'feeding'," he hesitantly pushed the words out, still not wanting to go there, "do you mean in a Wraith type of way?"

"Yes."

"Oh." John worked very, very hard to suppress the memories that conjured, and the shudder that he knew would come with them.

"Well." Rodney paused. "Considering the nature of it, it's probably closer to an Iratus bug type of way." And there was the shudder, fully unsuppressed now that John had an entirely different set of memories to work on. It was a small comfort that the vine at least didn't look very bug-like.

"I mean, it's not making me do that freaky aging thing. Is it?" Rodney twitched. "It is, isn't it? It's doing it, I can feel it now-is my hair going gray yet? Oh, god. What if it makes me go bald? What if it gives me Alzheimers?"

"McKay!" John shone his flashlight beam right into Rodney's eyes. It probably stung a little, but it was better than letting Rodney work himself into a frenzy that would be so much more difficult to snap him out of, now that John couldn't just smack him upside the head.

Rodney stuttered to a halt. "What?"

"You're not aging." John shrugged, amended his statement. "Not more than usual."

"Really?"

"You're not. Trust me."

Rodney's head drooped a little. "Okay. Good. Good. I-"

John's radio crackled to life, startling both of them, and freezing the air in John's lungs. Teyla. Even Ronon couldn't have made it all the way back to the gate already, so if he was contacting them now... He met Rodney's eyes, and saw his own fear mirrored there.

"Sheppard, come in." The signal was thready, riddled with much more static than his last message had been, but Ronon's tone was clearly annoyed rather than devastated.

"Ronon?"

"Teyla's still breathing." At least that's what John thought Ronon was saying. The next part was too badly broken up to make much sense-that, and the twin sighs of relief echoing in the ice chamber made it harder to hear. John relaxed minutely.

"Come again?"

"I said --- storm coming." The gist of the message was pretty clear.

"There's a storm? Here? Now?" Great.

"Getting here. It --- radios."

"Okay. Well." John looked helplessly at Rodney, who had switched worried expressions. This one was of the 'We're all doomed' variety.

"Moving fast," John could make out, but he wasn't sure if Ronon was referring to himself or the storm. "Thought you should know." Ronon's parting words came through quite clearly, and then the line went dead.

The silence didn't last for long. "Oh, no." Rodney sounded thoroughly fatalistic, prompting John to look down at the scanner he still held in one hand. McKay might be pinned against a wall by a life-sucking plant, but unless he was knocked out cold, he could still use his brain.

"Here." John, crouched down and thrust the scanner at Rodney's face. He kept a careful eye on the vines, but as long as he wasn't poking them-or anything they'd snared in their clutches-they seemed to keep still.

Rodney squinted at the monitor. "What? I can't see the storm-not that seeing it would help, since we already know it's coming-coming to freeze us to death."

John shook his head. "Forget about the storm. Look-you said there was a room back there?"

"A room, an Ancient water boiler, a dozen angry Wraith in a giant freezer-it could be anything," Rodney said, without any heat.

"Just look at it. Tell me what to do with it, and-think of something."

Rodney snorted. "Well, with a plan like that, we should be back home in no time."

The sarcasm made John smile, and his own answer was pure encouragement. "Exactly."

"Okay." Rodney started to nod, then jerked back sharply as a leaf grazed his chin, leaving a bloody scratch. The net of vines around him shuddered in response to his movement, and Rodney's jaw clenched furiously, not quite stifling a pained whimper. His next couple of breaths were short and hard, and he refused to meet John's eyes. "Okay," he said again, but his voice less steady than before. Were his teeth chattering? "I'm thinking."

John was thinking, too. Rodney's situation was getting worse by the minute, he didn't even know how Teyla was doing, and the most useful thing he could do was be a prop for Rodney's scanner? There had to be something more. Anything at all. At this point he would gladly take on Wraith or Replicators or even Iratus bugs - at least he would be doing something, something more than just standing here like an idiot, doing nothing except noticing that Rodney had started to shiver, even though his forehead was clammy with sweat. Noticing how quiet McKay was being.

"Hey, Rodney?" John worried his lower lip with his teeth, waiting for a reply that shouldn't have taken as long as it did.

"Yes. No, I don't have a plan yet. But maybe-the readings are static. Give me the flux view."

His bare fingers were clumsy from the cold, and it took John a couple of tries to get the right setting. Rodney waited for him to finish, docile, without a single insult or annoyed comment at the delay. That scared John almost as badly as Teyla's scream had. Come to think of it, with McKay he'd much rather have screaming. That at least he was used to.

John made up his mind, and set the scanner aside at the snow at his feet. "Can you see the display here?"

Rodney frowned. "Yes."

"Good." John stood up. "Look, Rodney-I'm going to have a look outside. I'll try to contact Ronon, too. He should be at the gate soon." John refused to let go of that thought, clutching it like a predator would a fresh kill.

As usual, Rodney didn't share his optimism-but at least he was answering. "Unless he's stuck in the snow, in which case we're all screwed."

"Just think of a plan, McKay," John ordered. He grabbed his P90 off the ground and headed to the cave's entrance. He was met by a blast of cold air, much colder than it had been when they walked here. John knew something about unstable weather conditions, but he had never seen anything like this on earth. The pale blue winter sky had turned completely dark, choked with ugly clouds, and it was as if someone had drawn a curtain on the magnificent view, and then turned off the lights for good measure.

"Oh, crap." John hadn't even stepped out of the cave mouth, and already he was being buffeted by strong winds. This was the best shot he was going to get at contacting Ronon, but when he tried, the radio just hissed angry static at him. Must be the storm. He waited, tried again-more static. Not even a garbled reply, Ronon indicating that being radioed every other minute was an annoying distraction, just-nothing.

If John had possessed Rodney's flair for horrible scenarios of certain doom, he might have been able to take some comfort in the idea that things could always get worse, but as far as he was concerned, they really couldn't. His basic training had covered shock, and he knew more than he had ever wanted to know about hypothermia after Antarctica, and his collected knowledge told him that on a scale from good to bad, they were rapidly sliding towards 'thoroughly screwed'. Of course, that was just with what conventional earth medicine could tell him. Then they had the added element of a vicious alien vine, and that was where things got really ridiculous. None of his training had ever covered combat gardening.

Peering out through the opening in one last attempt to raise Ronon on the radio earned John a face full of stinging snow. He controlled the impulse to hurl the radio at the cave's sparkling wall. The shiver that swept through him was harder to control, and fear followed hard on its heels. If it was cold enough that it bothered him, when he was still dry and moving-Rodney had been immobilized for too long, sweating and pressed against the cave wall by those damned vines.

John ran back. For a moment of confused panic, he thought Rodney must have been completely engulfed by the vines while he was away, because the scientist was not where he had left him. Then John realized that Rodney had somehow managed to slide down so that he was sitting on the floor. Well, except that 'sitting' usually indicated a level of comfort - Rodney had his legs awkwardly bent beneath him and tangled in ice vine, his chest and one arm pinned against the wall, and the other arm pulled above his head. His chin was resting against his chest. He looked like he should have a chalk outline around him.

For a long, awful moment that John was going to obliterate from his mind as soon as they got out of here, John wasn't sure that he had made it back in time. Then he noticed how Rodney was shivering, and while that did indicate that his 'oh so screwed' situation assessment was correct, it also allowed him to breathe again.

He needed to check on Rodney, make sure-but he couldn't come too close, because ending up in the same position as Rodney would not solve anything. Standing there, just watching, taking stock of his surface injuries, his torn clothes, his pale complexion and sweat-damp hair-John wanted to scream. If their positions had been reversed, Rodney would already have come up with some solution, some way to fix this...!

John swallowed. "Hi, buddy."

Rodney lifted his head. For a couple of seconds he just stared blankly at John, then he sighed. "I really, really want to get out of here."

John decided to take that as a good sign. At least Rodney was still aware of his surroundings. Though looking at his bloody face, one eye already gumming shut, John thought that maybe it would have been easier for him if he wasn't.

"Oh, and I f-figured it out." Every now and again Rodney stuttered because his teeth were chattering. "When you were gone-I mean, you came back, but you were gone. With Teyla and Ronon."

Then again, maybe 'aware' wasn't exactly the right word.

"This thing, that I'm stuck in? Which is very uncomfortable, by the way-I hate the Ancients so much. They suck. Anyway. It's not a plant. It's Wraith. Except not, because it's Ancient." Rodney's tone was level, but his voice was hoarse, and John couldn't tell if he was making sense or not. He didn't think so, but this was Rodney, and sometimes there were things that made sense to Rodney that made absolutely no sense to John. He decided he'd better check.

"Uh, Rodney? Is that supposed to make sense?"

"Yes."

Well, alright then.

"See-it's not a plant. Originally, maybe. Or now. But at one point, it wasn't a plant, it was a-a security system."

John frowned. "Security system?"

Rodney nodded, slowly. "Like the Wraith's?"

"You mean-." John's eyes narrowed, and he stared at the vines. They were icy and pale instead of slimy and dark, but he was beginning to see what Rodney was getting to. "Like the Wraith technology?"

"The-the cells, the cocoons..." They were both intimately familiar with those charming features of Wraith architecture, and now that Rodney had pointed them out, John could see the similarities.

"You're saying the Ancients designed something like what the Wraith are using?"

Rodney shrugged, ignoring the red blood that bloomed in the white of his parka's torn shoulder at the gesture. It was deeply unnerving to realize that Rodney had apparently stopped registering pain. Or maybe it just looked worse than it was? "Or the Wraith stole it."

Rodney worked his jaw, fighting another bout of chatter-induced stutters. "Doesn't matter, really. I figured it out, and it-it just means I know how screwed I am." There was no hysteria in Rodney's raspy voice, no spirit, just a deep resignation. John had an intense desire to shake him until the real Rodney snapped into focus and yelled at him, but none of his first aid training had listed that as an option in treating hypothermia (or the effects of alien security plants), so he didn't.

What he did do was try to reason-make Rodney's brain work some more, come up with some brilliant last-minute solution.

"Why? If it's not a plant, can't we just-switch it off?"

"It's a security system. It's decided we're a threat. It's-it's waiting for the original owner to come back and deal with that threat. It's waited for ten thousand years. Okay? That's how screwed I am."

John decided that the next time he met an Ancient, he was going to punch them in the face, on principle. "But-Rodney, you have the gene! Why is it still giving you the burglar treatment?"

Rodney looked at him blankly, as if he had just suggested they discuss the finer points of using the fair catch signal in football. "Rodney?"

Instead of swimming into focus, Rodney's eyes were glazing over. "Rodney!"

A shudder, more violent than any shiver, wracked Rodney's body. His head jerked back, and then he slumped forward. He whimpered with pain, too far gone to even react to the sound of his name, and John had gone for Ronon's knife before he even realized what he was doing.

John froze. He had promised he wouldn't-when Ronon had used his knife as a weed whacker, Teyla had been knocked out. Another shudder, another moan of pain from Rodney, and John knew he had to do something, do something now, before inaction drove him to do something really stupid.

Except-there was something he could do. Something he could try. And it probably counted as more than just really stupid, but at this point, he really didn't give a damn. He was out of options, out of time, and long since out of patience. He quickly put the flashlight down, and crouched in front of Rodney. His teammate was still breathing, in short, ragged gasps, and still struggling weakly to get away from the pain.

Without pausing to think about what he was doing, John shifted his body close enough to Rodney that he was all but embracing him. John dropped his flashlight and Ronon's knife, and reached out with steady hands. He gently lifted the tip of the bloodstained vine that curled around Rodney's outstretched wrist, and slid a finger underneath it.

The vine twitched. John worked a little more of it free of Rodney's skin-the vine felt cold and dry under his fingers, even after being plastered to Rodney for so long. Even after getting covered in his blood. The tiny hairs on the stem were stiff, and prickled uncomfortably.

John didn't manage to loosen more than a single coil around Rodney's wrist, draping the limp tendril over his own hand, before a needle-point thorn buried itself in the soft flesh of his finger, and the vine jerked violently in reaction. Rodney cried out. Instead of pulling away, John took advantage of the movement to shove his own arm under the vine covering Rodney's. John's parka tore with the sound of a zipper getting pulled, and for a moment the two of them were lashed together, but then John managed to grab a hold of Rodney's captured arm with his free hand, and pulled.

As he had hoped, the vines had enough give that the trick worked. Rodney had been able to sag down from a standing position to a sitting one-the vines weren't always pulled fully taut, and gravity or brute force could work to a certain extent. John could have tried to wrench his own arm free, but then he would have had another loose tendril to contest with. What he was doing was working-he was getting Rodney free. That was the important part.

The pain felt pretty important too, but he busied himself with trying to think Ancient thoughts as he unwound a thick vine from across Rodney's chest, and let the damned thorns grab onto him instead. If what Rodney had said had been true-and it would have been, even if Rodney was half out of it-this was Ancient. It made sense.

It didn't make sense that the construct wasn't recognizing the gene-except, like Rodney had pointed out, it had been ten thousand years. Any security system in the world would get buggy after that long, and this was something that was organic enough to start evolving. John's gene was stronger than Rodney's, natural-it was what had brought him to the Pegasus galaxy in the first place, so it was only fair that it should come in handy in not letting him die here.

What thoughts would an Ancient with needles stabbing them in the arms and wrapping around their back be thinking? "Ow, ow, ow!" Actually, faced with needle-stabbing, an Ancient would probably just Ascend. John cursed under his breath as he tried to work faster, but was hindered by the whole web of vines shifting, making the leaves tinkle ominously. Sweat stung his eyes, and he tasted blood, but he kept working, fingers gentle and steady, Rodney's chilled, limp form propped against his chest.

"I want a door. I want an opening. I want to get through," John muttered. He tried to remember how he had made his first jumper show him a display or fire its weapons. It was like trying to remember how to breathe while having your head shoved in a bucket of cold water.

Another vine sprung loose, and then lashed out-this one attached to the side of John's unprotected neck, and it was freezing cold. More than cold-it was draining him of heat. Feeding. He shuddered-thought he shuddered. Then he realized it was Rodney, shifting against him, free to move most of his body. Perfect.

Clenching his jaws in anticipation of the vine's reaction, John grabbed hold of Rodney's parka. He threw the cautious approach to the wind, and twisted his own body with all his strength, at the same time as he shoved Rodney away from himself, hard. He ended up having to kick Rodney to make him roll out of reach, but there was no time for apologies. The same thing that had happened to Teyla was happening to him now-this was one pissed security plant, and now it was pulling taut, smashing him against the wall.

The wall. John was facing the wall, not away from it, and he could see the wall, and something else. Glinting of crystal-not leaves, but an actual crystal. Set in the wall.

It all fell into place. His first time in the jumper-every other time in the jumper since-he had been holding the controls. That was it. Ancient thoughts weren't going to do him any good if he wasn't actually communicating with the Ancient controls. The vines were wrapping around him, immobilizing him, leaving him only a few seconds-one chance. One chance to throw his full weight straight into the writhing mass of vines, and hit the exact right spot.

John thought he might have grinned. Rather this than watch his teammate die without being able to help. Then he plunged into the vines, and thrust his hand through them, hard. He felt thorns and bristles and cold stems and then-the wall. Scrabbling up, he touched a rounded edge. The vines were snaking around his head, around his throat, strangling him. He kept pushing, and there it was. Crystal, so familiar, so comfortably familiar, and he thought open, and it did.

And then he found out exactly how much the vines, which didn't have enough give to accommodate the walls sliding apart, disliked getting torn apart. The world exploded in the kind of pain that made it clear the man-eating security plant had been really nice before, and he passed out.

* * *

When John woke up, he was cold, and achy, and felt like he had gone ten rounds against a swarm of angry bees. He was also resting against something comparatively soft, and warm. Blinking blearily, he managed to get one eye to open. He saw white and red and blue.

"Sheppard." The voice sounded like he felt, except more relieved.

"Rodney?" He managed to make his one open eye focus, and the colors he'd seen arranged themselves into a pale, bloodstained face with blue eyes.

"Yeah."

John smiled. Rodney talking. That was good. He decided to take stock of the situation-which was how he discovered that they were squished shoulder to shoulder in a corner of a dry, bright and completely vine-free empty room. They were also stripped to the waist, and covered by the remains of their uniform jackets, and two torn parkas. John stopped smiling. "Uh, Rodney?"

"Don't. Don't say anything. It was difficult enough hauling you in here-I could have left you, you know. But I didn't. Because you're not allowed to die, either."

John blinked, and this time both eyes opened. He wasn't quite sure what he had been about to say, but words like 'hypothermia' were coming back to him, as was the sight of Rodney as he last had seen him-sprawled in the snow, unmoving and bleeding. So he decided to go for what sounded best right now. "Thank you."

Rodney nodded. "Thank you." John wasn't quite clear on whether Rodney was just repeating the words he had just heard or not, but it didn't really matter, because he heard something else. He thought that maybe he should stand up, or at least shift away, but-this was warm. Warm was good.

Teyla's voice over the radio was even better, but it was coming closer, and she would find them. Her and Ronon and Keller.

"Hey, Rodney," John said sleepily, as a thought slowly occurred to him.

"Mmm?"

"The first cave. It's big enough to land a jumper in." So if one had a very good pilot, like say, himself, one wouldn't have to walk to get here.

"I hate you." Rodney shifted closer, and promptly fell asleep. John grinned, and looked up in time to see Teyla and Ronon exchange relieved smiles at the sight of the two of them.

Some days were all worst case scenarios and picking up the pieces after hubris-struck Ascended jerks, but if it ended with his team there to carry him home to a warm bed, it couldn't be all that bad.