Avalanche, PG (1/3)sholioDecember 7 2009, 07:55:46 UTC
This is a beautiful world. Ronon thought so before it swallowed the jumper and half his squad -- team, whatever -- and he still thinks so. He hasn't mentioned it to the team, doesn't see any reason to, but this would have been the Ceremony of Lights back on Sateda. Not sure which day -- maybe the fourth day, Siwal, the day for letting go of foolish pride. Or is it Shawarda, the third day, for speaking of the dead? At some point he lost track of the correspondence between the Satedan calendar and the one the Lanteans use. He hopes it's not Shawarda; that would be a bad sign.
His thoughts are drifting, and that's bad. Ronon shakes himself all over -- it hurts like hell, but the pain keeps him awake, lets him know he's alive. And he goes back to digging.
Sheppard is white-faced and silent, with pain and worry in equal measure, Ronon guesses. The life signs detector says they're still alive, though. If you can believe it. He doesn't trust it, not really. They can't raise Teyla and McKay on the radios, and any way you look at it, that isn't good.
Maybe this is Dihansi, the sixth day, the day of miracles. But Ronon hasn't believed in miracles in a long time.
The jumper is at the bottom of the valley, shattered under tons of snow and rock. He can see bits of it poking out, but it's so far down that it'd take hours to walk down there, maybe even days in their current condition. The Stargate is closer; he can see it, actually, on a ridge above them.
Sheppard staggers and falls into the side of the hole they've been digging. For a moment he just rests there, his eyes closed and his face creased with pain. The blood down the side of his pale face stands out starkly.
"Maybe one of us should --"
"No." Sheppard straightens, goes back to digging.
If either of them went for the Stargate, it'd have to be Sheppard anyway. Ronon likes to think he could make it, but probably not, not with his leg the way it is. And Sheppard believes that the time it'd take for either of them to make it up to the 'gate is time that McKay and Teyla don't have. There's a lot of snow to dig through.
They both got banged up pretty bad in the avalanche, and they just got caught in the edge of it. Ronon's had broken limbs before, but he's never broken the long bone of the thigh, and hopes he never does again. It's gonna take forever to heal, he thinks grimly, and goes on scooping snow; he's sitting down, using a stubby branch as a shovel.
Sheppard's probably got a concussion at the very least. He keeps stopping to breathe hard, and sometimes he leans against the side of the shallow-but-deepening trough that they've scooped out of the snow, like he thinks Ronon doesn't notice. That's the other reason he can't go for help; neither one of them's said it, but Ronon knows that Sheppard's barely keeping it together as it is. The odds of him making it up to the Stargate without passing out or losing his way are pretty slim -- from here it might look like a straight shot up to the 'gate, but Ronon remembers the rough country they flew over, and he knows there are a couple of ridges between here and there. If they went, they'd have to go together, leaving Teyla and McKay buried in the snow.
When Ronon uncovers something that isn't snow, something dark and yielding, he's so dazed with weariness and pain that it takes him a moment to notice. Then he says, "Sheppard," and starts scrabbling with both hands, uncovering what turns out to be a leg in those loose uniform pants that the Atlantis people wear. Either Teyla or McKay, but it's not moving, so Ronon pinches it hard and gets a sharp flinch. He grins. If that was Teyla, she'll make sure he pays for that later, but it's worth it.
Maybe it's the day of miracles after all.
Sheppard's followed the line of the leg and now he's kneeling where their heads would be, if they're really together like the life-signs machine seems to show. His gloved hands uncover a spill of ice-rimed copper hair -- and then he's infinitely gentle, scooping away the snow from temples and faces and half-closed eyes.
His thoughts are drifting, and that's bad. Ronon shakes himself all over -- it hurts like hell, but the pain keeps him awake, lets him know he's alive. And he goes back to digging.
Sheppard is white-faced and silent, with pain and worry in equal measure, Ronon guesses. The life signs detector says they're still alive, though. If you can believe it. He doesn't trust it, not really. They can't raise Teyla and McKay on the radios, and any way you look at it, that isn't good.
Maybe this is Dihansi, the sixth day, the day of miracles. But Ronon hasn't believed in miracles in a long time.
The jumper is at the bottom of the valley, shattered under tons of snow and rock. He can see bits of it poking out, but it's so far down that it'd take hours to walk down there, maybe even days in their current condition. The Stargate is closer; he can see it, actually, on a ridge above them.
Sheppard staggers and falls into the side of the hole they've been digging. For a moment he just rests there, his eyes closed and his face creased with pain. The blood down the side of his pale face stands out starkly.
"Maybe one of us should --"
"No." Sheppard straightens, goes back to digging.
If either of them went for the Stargate, it'd have to be Sheppard anyway. Ronon likes to think he could make it, but probably not, not with his leg the way it is. And Sheppard believes that the time it'd take for either of them to make it up to the 'gate is time that McKay and Teyla don't have. There's a lot of snow to dig through.
They both got banged up pretty bad in the avalanche, and they just got caught in the edge of it. Ronon's had broken limbs before, but he's never broken the long bone of the thigh, and hopes he never does again. It's gonna take forever to heal, he thinks grimly, and goes on scooping snow; he's sitting down, using a stubby branch as a shovel.
Sheppard's probably got a concussion at the very least. He keeps stopping to breathe hard, and sometimes he leans against the side of the shallow-but-deepening trough that they've scooped out of the snow, like he thinks Ronon doesn't notice. That's the other reason he can't go for help; neither one of them's said it, but Ronon knows that Sheppard's barely keeping it together as it is. The odds of him making it up to the Stargate without passing out or losing his way are pretty slim -- from here it might look like a straight shot up to the 'gate, but Ronon remembers the rough country they flew over, and he knows there are a couple of ridges between here and there. If they went, they'd have to go together, leaving Teyla and McKay buried in the snow.
When Ronon uncovers something that isn't snow, something dark and yielding, he's so dazed with weariness and pain that it takes him a moment to notice. Then he says, "Sheppard," and starts scrabbling with both hands, uncovering what turns out to be a leg in those loose uniform pants that the Atlantis people wear. Either Teyla or McKay, but it's not moving, so Ronon pinches it hard and gets a sharp flinch. He grins. If that was Teyla, she'll make sure he pays for that later, but it's worth it.
Maybe it's the day of miracles after all.
Sheppard's followed the line of the leg and now he's kneeling where their heads would be, if they're really together like the life-signs machine seems to show. His gloved hands uncover a spill of ice-rimed copper hair -- and then he's infinitely gentle, scooping away the snow from temples and faces and half-closed eyes.
Reply
Leave a comment