The Slow and Subtle Art of Drowning 2/3 (R)
Title: The Slow and Subtle Art of Drowning
Pairing or Character(s): Mensa!Radek/Mensa!Laura, Rod McKay, Mensa!Elizabeth, Mensa!Sheppard, mention of Mensa!Carson/Mensa!Perna
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: MENSA-verse
Rating: R
Part One of Slow and Subtle Art of Drowning
Ignoring his protesting knees, Radek knelt next to the bench and typed away at the tablet, his nose almost brushing the screen as he squinted painfully at the information he was scrolling through. If only his headache would go away. Oh, he'd found some aspirin in the emergency kits, of course, but then he hadn't been able to recall if one was allowed to take aspirin with a possible concussion, and so had been forced to set the aspirin aside, where it tempted him like a siren song.
Behind him, Rod inhaled sharply and made a quiet sound of disagreement.
Radek glanced at him, taking in the expression of ‘I saw something you missed, but I don’t want to burst your bubble’ that had formed on Rod’s face, the way those blue eyes slid away from his. “What is it?”
The expression shifted to a stubborn look. “I’m not helping you, remember?” Had it been anyone else, the tone would have been considered testy, but since this was Rod, it was merely matter-of-fact.
Radek looked down at the tablet and frowned. There didn’t seem to be any errors, but then again, possible concussion. After a moment, he snorted to himself. No, no, he was fine. Rod was merely trying to distract him, that was all. He resumed typing, ignoring the weight of Rod's gaze on the back of his neck. Well, he attempted to ignore Rod's gaze, anyway, but it was like an itch he couldn't scratch or ignore.
After a moment he turned and demanded, “What? What did you see?” He forced himself upright, knees all but creaking in protest as he shoved the tablet under Rod’s nose. “Look, Rod -- if you, if you, if you saw something, just, just, tell me. Not that I believe I made a mistake, really, but I do have a possible concussion and with this headache--”
Rod still didn’t meet his eyes, in fact, stubbornly clenched his jaw and stayed silent, and after a moment Radek scowled darkly, annoyed at himself for even doubting his own calculations. “Do you really think you are fooling me? There’s nothing wrong with my calculations. You are just trying to distract me.”
Guileless blue eyes met his at that. “Sorry?”
Radek lowered the tablet, glared at the other man, all but snarled, “You are acting like a child, trying to slow me down!”
Rod frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t, don’t play mind games with me, Rod!” Heat bloomed in his cheeks, and he could feel himself start to tremble in suppressed aggravation at Rod’s innocent tone. He had always imagined Rod to be a good actor -- no one could be that pleasant all the time, after all -- but still, the audacity in trying to carry on the charade when Radek had figured it out--
“I am a mind game,” Rod pointed out dryly, interrupting Radek’s furious thoughts.
Radek glared at him and said in a sharp, cold voice, “If you refuse to help me, then just stay on your side of the jumper,” before he turned back towards the bench. He had just begun to kneel down when jumper shuddered violently. He fell sideways, missing hitting his chin on the bench by mere millimeters, but the hard landing on the jumper’s floor knocked the wind from him nonetheless. After a moment, he lifted his head and stared at Rod, who had remained standing, apparently unaffected by the jumper’s convulsive shudder, damn him.
“What now?” he demanded, still a little breathless as he painfully got to his feet.
“Feels like we hit the bottom,” Rod said.
For a moment, Radek’s heart stopped, and then it resumed beating at a quick, irregular pace, pounding in his ears as he muttered, “Well, this is, this is good, then. The chances of us imploding are much smaller, after all, and, and--”
“Radek--”
He held up a hand, trying to think through the roaring in his ears and ignoring the expression of half-pity, half-concern on Rod’s face. “Don’t ‘Radek’ me, just this once. Can I not at least take a moment to enjoy the one bit of good luck I’ve had all day?”
“This isn't good, Radek,” Rod persisted. “And you know it.”
“Stop,” Radek snapped, voice rising without his consent, rising and almost cracking. “Just, just, just -- just be quiet! You come in here, you do nothing to help me, you say the one plan I have is terrible, you -- you claim to be a creation of my mind and yet you continue to be completely and utterly useless!”
“Only because you won’t listen to me--” Rod stopped, sighed, and pointed. “Look.” He lowered his gaze to the floor and Radek followed suit, blinking stupidly at the water.
His vision went gray, and for a moment he could picture it, see how the water would fill the compartment until-- “It -- that’s always been there.” It took a moment for Radek to realize that those whispered words had come from his lips.
“No, it hasn’t,” Rod said grimly. “The impact with the ocean floor must have created a micro-fissure in the hull.”
Radek didn’t realize he’d taken a step back, and then another, until the back of his legs bumped against the bench. “We’re taking on water,” he said, almost in a daze, because he could still see the water rising over his head, could still see Rod helplessly watching him drown. He closed his eyes, but the images appeared on the back of his eyelids, and after a moment he swallowed back a lump of despair and muttered, “I wish I knew how to swim. Truly, I do.”
“Radek,” Rod said, voice soft, and Radek shook his head before the hallucination could say anything more, probably something meant to motivate him, galvanize him into action.
He squared his shoulders, ignoring the frantic, unsteady flutter of his heart in his chest. “Well, what is it they say? You are never too old to learn?” Radek was a little pleased when his voice merely wobbled and didn’t crack from terror. Staring down at the water that continued to gush into the compartment, he took a deep breath and then knelt down to begin his survey of the damage.
By the time he had examined the entire seam, the ice-cold water was up to his knees, and he was drenched clean to the bone and shivering so hard that his teeth chattered. He finally stood, brushing soaked strands away from his face, and grabbed his glasses from one of the benches before he walked over to where Rod stood at the rear of the ship.
Radek cleared his throat, waited for a moment until the worst of the shivering had subsided, and then said, attempting a conversational tone, “You know, I -- I was just actually-- I was just, you know, thinking what would complete this experience would be freezing cold sea water in the compartment, lots of it. After all, who would not find it highly ironic to die from drowning inside a jumper when there a whole ocean outside the compartment?”
“You can fix this, Radek.”
He shook his head, the chill sinking into his bones and making him feel both heavy and unbelievably weary. “There are micro-fractures all along the seam,” he said, and some of his hopelessness must have shown on his face, because Rod’s expression shifted to one of grim determination.
“You still have fully functioning life support, right?”
Yes, of course, he did, because his fate had to be even more ironic, and so the life support would no doubt outlast him. “Yes,” Radek answered after a moment, voice hollow.
Rod spread his hands, nodding to himself, and Radek couldn’t help but notice bitterly that the hallucination was unaffected by the cold. Why couldn’t his subconscious remember that misery loved company? He shivered again, shaking so hard this time that his breath caught in his throat and he found himself almost surprised his bones didn’t just rattle right out of his skin. It took him a moment to realize that Rod had said something. “What?”
“Create a positive pressure environment,” Rod repeated patiently. “If you can increase the pressure inside the jumper, you should be able to slow the leaking.”
Radek stared for a moment. Yes, yes, that would slow the leaking but-- “We’d never be able to stop it,” he reminded the hallucination, shoulders slumping a little.
Rod shrugged and looked unperturbed at the bleak reminder. “I’m not saying that we could -- we’re just trying to buy time here.”
“In order to make death as long and as drawn-out as possible,” Radek muttered with more than a touch of bitterness, and now Rod rolled his eyes, something of his calm façade cracking to reveal a mixture of irritation and exasperation.
“Just max it out, Radek.”
“Fine, fine,” Radek muttered, snatching the tablet up from where it had been halfway floating on the bench and sitting down on the partially submerged bench. “Just give me a moment.” His hands were numb and clumsy, and he quietly cursed as he struggled with the tiny keyboard yet again.
“We should probably find a way to heat this water, too,” Rod said quietly, and when Radek glanced up at him he was standing next to the bench, eyes focused on the tablet’s screen, a pensive look on his face.
There was a familiar expression of determination and concentration on Rod’s face, one he always wore when he was trying do something undoable. The familiarity of the look made a lump form in Radek’s throat, and before he could really consider his words, he commented, “We make a good team, you and I.”
Rod looked at him at that, raised an eyebrow. “A good team,” he echoed, half-smiling, as though pleased by the compliment but doubting Radek’s sincerity.
“No, no, I mean it,” Radek said, and sighed. “Believe me, it would be much easier for me if we didn’t work well together. I could retreat to one of the smaller labs, you could reign as king, and my life would be far, far easier.”
Rod shot him a sideways glance, his half-smile now a touch rueful. “You know, most people enjoy working with me. It’s only you -- and well, Sheppard, but he complains about everyone, so he doesn’t really count -- who makes interacting with me seem like a trial and tribulation of some sort.”
“That is because it is a tribulation,” Radek muttered.
“Excuse me?” Rod sounded very much like he was trying not to laugh, and failing horribly. “Why? I’m pleasant, supportive, fairly humble--”
The intensity of his anger took Radek by surprise, but before he could gather his wits, his mouth was already opening, letting lose a dark, frustrated exclamation of, “Yes, yes, and that is entirely the problem! You are too pleasant, too supportive, too humble about your genius! You are not real!”
There was a beat of silence for a moment, and then Rod said mildly, “Well, I am a figment of your imagination.”
Radek shot him a dark look at that. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You are too perfect. What are your flaws, McKay? I do not trust men who are always smiling, always kind. They are hiding something.”
“Maybe you should, oh, discuss this with the real McKay,” Rod said, expression bland, hiding whatever he felt about being accused of keeping secrets. “For now, let’s stick to working on my idea.”
Radek scowled at him for a moment, and then finally shook his head, irritation ebbing to a familiar mixture of frustration and exasperation. "I suppose arguing with a hallucination is a waste of oxygen."
Rod made a quiet sound under his breath, a mixture of a laugh and a sigh. “Waste of oxygen, yes, not to mention time.”
“True,” Radek grudgingly admitted. “Well, here we go.” He tapped the tablet one more time, and then tried not to wince as the air began rushing into the compartment. Pinching his nose, taking a deep breath, Radek exhaled through his nose, trying to equalize the pressure in his ears. When the pressure finally eased, Radek let his hand drop, took in a deep breath, and then studied the screen of the tablet.
“Inbound leakage has been slowed,” he said after a moment, unable to keep from smiling in relief. Some of the tension that had been knotting his shoulders eased, and he added, “Good idea, Rod.”
Rod shot him that familiar lopsided smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Well, technically, it was your idea. I'm your subconscious, after all.”
“Oh, yes, right, but, ah, still.” When Rod kept looking at him, smile still going strong, he fidgeted a little under the look and added an awkward but heartfelt, “Thank you.” It was almost ridiculous how difficult it was to say that, even to a hallucination with Rod’s face, and Radek felt the urge to laugh at his own pettiness, because the leakage had been slowed, the water would not overwhelm him as quickly as before, and he might just survive this.
Before he could think about it too much, over-analyze the action, he walked over, reaching out to grasp Rod’s shoulders and squeeze them gently. He shouldn’t have been surprised at the warmth under his fingertips, the smoothness of Rod’s leather jacket against his skin -- since Rod was, after all, a hallucination -- but somehow he was startled anyway.
Rod blinked at him, an expression of bemusement on his face, and Radek supposed he couldn't blame him for being confused. After all, how many times had Rod given him a friendly pat on the back or supportive squeeze to the shoulder and earned himself a testy reminder that Radek did not appreciate having his personal space invaded? “Uh,” Rod said at last, still staring, and Radek resisted the urge to laugh at having rendered Rod speechless by initiating physical contact for the first time.
“Thank you, McKay,” he said again, and this time the gratitude didn’t scratch his throat.
Rod blinked slowly. “You’re, uh, welcome.” He looked puzzled for another moment, and then finally shook his head a little, raising an eyebrow and smiling. “Feeling especially grateful?”
It was Radek’s turn to blink, and then he realized that his hands were still on Rod’s shoulders, the leather smooth and warm beneath his fingertips. He let his hands drop to his sides, smiled crookedly. “Head injury, remember?”
“Right,” Rod agreed.
Picking the tablet up from where he'd set it down on the bench, Radek tapped the screen, feeling almost hopeful for the first time since the jumper had bucked like an anxious colt beneath him. "Now just excuse me while I work on getting myself out of this," he said absently as he glanced up at the overhead panel, trying to figure out how, exactly, he could do that.
“You’re not going to still try and control the jumper from that little thing, are you?” Rod sounded incredulous, and Radek didn’t bother looking over. He could easily picture the expression of disbelief on the other man’s face, the way Rod would be staring at him as though he’d suddenly grown two heads or sprouted wings.
“Yes, yes, I am,” he said, still looking at the panel. “And I have to do it quickly before power levels drop below fifty percent. So, that leaves me approximately--” He paused, glanced at his watch. “Approximately ten minutes.” There was a moment of silence, one in which Radek knew Rod was gearing up to argue with him, and then he added, keeping his voice even, “If you are not going to help, then please stand back and keep quiet.”
“You need to stop this, Radek,” Rod said, low and earnest, and Radek rolled his eyes.
“Stop rescuing myself so you don’t have to pull off some daring rescue? I do not think so, McKay.”
“No, stop doing this just to spite me.” As Radek turned to stare, Rod lifted his chin in a defiant gesture and folded his arms against his chest. “Just look at what happened the last time you did something out of spite.” He nodded towards the water that was still at Radek’s knees.
Radek snorted even as some of his earlier relief and warmth towards Rod was replaced by all-too-familiar annoyance. “I think I have finally found your flaw, Rod: hubris. Do you truly believe I am doing this simply because you told me not to?”
“Yes,” Rod said, pointedly, and Radek scowled at him, anger returning the tension to his shoulders and knotting his stomach.
“Well, I am not. True, having you tell me not to and then immediately expect me to -- to roll over like the others makes me even more inclined to save myself, but still, I am doing this because I know it’s the right thing to do.” He folded his arms against his chest and ignored the half-exasperated, half-concerned look Rod directed towards him. “Not merely because you happened to argue against my plan. You are not omnipotent, Rod, much as everyone else seems to think you are.”
“Roll over like the others?” Rod repeated, exasperation and a hint of confusion tingeing his words. “I’m not asking you to kiss my feet, Zelenka, I’m asking you to listen to reason. You're a scientist, so look at the facts! You’ll use up your power, give them even less time to find you and--”
“Shut up!” It was probably a sure sign of madness that Radek wanted to punch the hallucination, to see if he’d be able to feel the give of flesh beneath his knuckles as he knocked some sense into the man, or at least broke his jaw so that Rod would be quiet. It was definitely a sure sign of madness when he actually moved forward and swung with all his might; Rod’s jaw was hard and real against his knuckles, and sharp pain blossomed even as Rod staggered sideways, head snapping back and eyes going wide.
The pain felt like fire, searing its way up his arm as he attempted to focus on the adrenaline surging through his veins and the way his stomach had unknotted a bit at the action. “Shut up,” he repeated, quieter. “I do not know if a hallucination can feel pain or discomfort, but I will hit you again if you do not let me work.” He tried not to stare at his hand, at the bump that made him almost a hundred percent certain he'd broken something as he turned back to the tablet.
There was a moment of silence before Rod spoke. "You hit me." The statement was said in a tone of abject disbelief, and when Radek turned to raise an eyebrow towards the hallucination, Rod's expression matched his tone, his eyes wide and shocked. "You hit me," Rod said again, some of the disbelief shifting to an emotion Radek couldn't quite define.
"Yes, I did," Radek said. "Now will you leave me alone and let me work?"
Rod's expression changed at that, turned more intense, almost remote. It was an unfamiliar look on Rod's face, one that distracted Radek for a moment. Was this how Rod looked when he was actually, truly angry and not merely hiding his fury behind a bland smile and eyes that never really looked at you? Or was this merely the best Radek's imagination could come up with? When Rod spoke again, his voice was soft and Radek had to strain to hear him. "Radek, you are a smart man. You have to know that sometimes you must rely on others for help."
Radek just looked at him for a moment. Do nothing? It was true that Radek was not a man of action as many of his fellow explorers were, but he was not passive. Did Rod truly expect him to just sit here and wait to be rescued like some faint-hearted princess? "Perhaps," he said slowly. "But this is not one of those times."
"Yes, it is," Rod said, voice quiet but with steel underneath those three simple words. "Look, I am your subconscious, just-- just listen to yourself." When Radek moved to turn back to the tablet, Rod's voice sharpened, acquired a tone of thinly-veiled fury. "Fine. Just don't expect me to stay and watch your own stupid stubbornness cause your death."
"What do you mean by that--" But even as Radek glanced over at Rod, the hallucination flickered and vanished. "Rod?" He stared for a moment, disbelieving. Surely his own subconscious wouldn't desert him-- but apparently his subconscious would, because Rod did not reappear, even when Radek swallowed and repeated, "Rod?"
Silence answered him, and after a moment, Radek looked down at the tablet. Just a few more minutes, and then his chance to save himself would be lost, he would be lost, to the dark, deep waters and the same terrible death Griffin had faced. He didn't have time to worry about the fact that even his own subconscious had abandoned him. "I cannot just sit here and wait for my death, Rod," he whispered into the silence. "I can't."
Even as he tapped at the screen, though, his thoughts strayed to his uncle Damek with his low, passionate tirades against the Soviets, the way he would pace in their kitchen like a caged animal, and to his father, who would sit in silence during Damek's speeches and then brood for hours after Damek had left. Radek remembered Damek turning to his father one night, raising his voice and hands in appeal and crying out, "How can you just sit there and do nothing? How can you act like a coward and not be ashamed of yourself?" He remembered his father's response, soft but certain, "Sometimes, the hardest thing -- and the best thing -- to do is nothing at all."
"The hardest thing to do," Radek said aloud, partly to himself, partly to his father's ghost, partly to the hallucination in the back of his head, and smiled a small, ironic grin. He closed his eyes, focused on the tightness in his chest, the twisted knot that was his stomach, and exhaled slowly. "Very well."
He didn't open his eyes to see if the hallucination had reappeared. Instead, he just tightened his grip on the tablet and took another deep breath.
*
"All right, so do we have a plan?" Elizabeth said without preamble, before Rod could even sit down. Her voice was brisk and still contained that hint of frost which meant Rod was going to be in the doghouse even after Radek and Griffin were safe.
He paused for a moment, not certain whether to sit or stand. At last he assumed a confident smile and remained standing, busying his hands with setting up the computer. He could feel Elizabeth's penetrating gaze though, along with Sumner's, an imaginary pressure that lingered on his hands and face as he adjusted the computer so that the screen would face the group of four who watched him so intently. "We've narrowed it down to three miles of ocean. However--" Again, he hesitated, fumbling for the right words that wouldn't make Radek and Griffin seem doomed.
Sumner leaned forward, gaze intent on the computer screen, and remarked dryly, "However, from what I've been told of the situation, they're too deep. The grapple only has one thousand feet of cable, doesn't it?"
"Well, yes," Rod acknowledged, and pretended not to notice the way Laura's face went a shade paler and how Sheppard's frown deepened. "That's true, but we know the jumper should be able to dive at least a thousand, so if he's above two thousand, we should still be able to get him with the grapple."
"And if he -- they're deeper?" Laura asked sharply.
"He probably is," Sheppard said, and Laura's color grew still paler, hazel eyes wide and luminous. Then a contemplative expression flitted across Sheppard's face and he added, the words slow and thoughtful, "Rod, when the Wraith attacked the city, you and Radek were able to turn the shield into a cloak."
"Yes, but--" Something clicked in his head, and Rod snapped his fingers and nodded, wondering why he hadn't thought of that. "Yes, yes, I see what you're-- we could do the opposite, turn the jumper's cloak into a shield. That would hold the water back." And take significantly more power, but Rod would cross that bridge when he came to it. They would just have to shut down all systems that weren't vital.
When he looked away from Sheppard though, Elizabeth and Sumner were both frowning and wearing doubtful looks, expressions Rod recognized all too well. They were the looks the colonel and Elizabeth wore whenever they suspected that Rod was being perhaps a shade too optimistic. "Wouldn't that take hours to reconfigure, Doctor?" Sumner asked. "As much as I want to rescue Captain Griffin and Doctor Zelenka, we have limited time here."
"Oh, Sheppard and I will take what we need, make the changes down there--"
Sheppard cleared his throat. "I'm not going, Rod."
Rod stared for a moment, blinking. He had to have misheard because-- "But you're the best pilot we have! We--"
"Exactly," Sheppard said in that slow, unrelenting way of his, when he'd made up his mind and neither hell nor high water could budge him. "And we all know that changing the cloak into the shield will take up an enormous amount of energy. The rescue jumper might not make it back to the surface, and if that happens, you're going to need me to do some pretty fancy footwork to keep you all from ending up on the bottom of the ocean."
"But--" Rod began, but Sumner and Elizabeth were already nodding in agreement. He resisted the urge to argue, to tell them that he needed Sheppard's skill with the jumper now, not have it be wasted on a second rescue that might not even happen. He bit back the argument that rose to his lips, forced the sentences into the box of negative things in the back of his head, since it was obvious that the argument would be three (perhaps four) against one and he'd just be wasting breath and precious time. "Fine." It took all his strength to have the word come out as accepting, rather than sharp and biting. "Who's going to pilot the jumper then?"
"I will."
"You?" A shade of incredulity colored Rod's voice, but he couldn't help it. Were they all seriously thinking that Cadman piloting the jumper was a good plan? She was, all right, yes, she was an excellent pilot, one of the best on Atlantis even, but ever since the unfortunate incident with the Wraith dart, they all knew she made him quietly uneasy, for reasons he couldn't quite explain. They had to realize he didn't need this distraction. It was his turn to clear his throat, and when he spoke, his tone was understanding, conciliatory. "All right, yes, Lieutenant, you have the gene, but do you really think you won't, ah, let your emotions cloud your--"
He stopped at Laura's expression. Her face was still pale, but her eyes were like gimlets and her mouth was set in a determined frown. "Let emotions cloud my judgment, McKay?" She laughed, but it was a harsh, humorless sound. Folding her arms against her chest, she continued, "Very PC. Now let's cut the bullshit. You don't really like me. That's fine. I don't really care, but we're going to have to work together to rescue Radek, so you're going to have to suck it up and deal."
"I don't dislike you," Rod said quickly, and fought back the warmth that was probably turning his face pink. He didn't dislike her, it was true, she just...made him uncomfortable. That was all. No more, no less. There was no hatred or dislike involved. Couldn't she see that? At her disbelieving snort, he glanced at the others, who all wore blank expressions. After a moment, he offered her a small smile. "Uh, well, that's a conversation for another time, I suppose. Now, just, ah, let me get my gear, and we'll go."
"Right," Laura smiled at him, all teeth, and Rod made certain to leave the room at a pace that suggested he was hurrying on Radek and Griffin's behalf, not because Laura terrified him.
*
"I did not think you would come back," Radek said, or at least attempted to say. His teeth kept chattering and it took far too much effort to work his sore jaw, to actually shape the words and force them past his numb lips. He attempted a sarcastic twist of his lips nonetheless, fairly certain the attempt failed miserably. "After all, my subconscious won, yes?"
"There's always a chance you might change your mind and try that stunt anyway," Rod said. His teeth weren't chatting; in fact, the hallucination looked perfectly at ease, the leather jacket as dry as it would be if they were on the mainland, standing on the beach. He even had the audacity to smile, and if Radek's broken hand hadn't still been in agony, reminding him of what would happen if he punched Rod a second time, Radek would have attempted a halfhearted swing.
Radek snorted. "Too late for that. The ten minutes are up and the power levels are too low. Even if I wished, I couldn't attempt my plan." The water was up to his waist now, slowly creeping up to lap at his ribcage, and perhaps it was all in his imagination, but the water seemed to be actually getting colder, even though the tablet assured him that the command to heat the water was still working. "So, why are you really here?"
Rod shrugged, still smiling. "To keep you company, of course."
Radek rolled his eyes at that, but didn't protest. Mostly because it happened to be true; he was grateful for any distraction (even one that involved a conversation with a man who wasn't really there) that could keep away thoughts of what would happen if Rod and the others didn't rescue him in time. He cradled his injured hand against his chest, trying to keep it immobile, and once again wished he had paid more attention in the first-aid lecture Simon had forced everyone to attend before they could go off-world. Perhaps then he would know for certain whether or not he was allowed some aspirin to ease his headache and the pain of his broken hand.
There was a moment of silence, during which Radek's head and hand throbbed and his stomach roiled, and at last he sighed. Well, if Rod was truly here to keep him company.... "I almost drowned once before, you know," he said, and then half-laughed, a hoarse, sharp sound. "Well, of course you know. My subconscious, after all." He looked up to find Rod watching him steadily. "I do not think Eliška has ever forgiven herself, for all that it's been over thirty years."
"If your roles had been reversed, would you have forgiven yourself?" Rod asked in the ensuing quiet.
"No," Radek admitted, suddenly exhausted. He let his eyes shut for a moment, the darkness not doing much to soothe the ache in his head or the sudden tightness in his chest. He couldn't help but wonder who would blame themselves for his death, if the rescue team arrived too late. Then he mentally snorted, because of course Rod would, chastising himself for not being quick enough, for not getting there in the nick of time like he usually did.
Then again, how long would the guilt truly last? There were too many past deaths, too many future deaths, too much blood and loss and grief for Radek's death to matter all that much in the long run. A few people would mourn for a while, and then they would move on. He would become just another name, someone they mentioned with a trace of wistfulness and regret from time to time, like Peter and Brendan and all the others who had died over the past year and a half. Perhaps Eliška would tell the occasional story and show the occasional photograph to little Marek of his uncle Radek. It was all he could hope for, really.
He opened his eyes, immediately regretting the action as his gaze blurred and the pain in his head spiked to near-unbearable levels. Swearing under his breath, Radek closed his eyes until the agony had eased somewhat; then he slowly reopened them to meet Rod's concerned gaze. This time, thankfully, the dim light of the compartment didn't hurt his eyes.
"I am fine," he said, when Rod kept looking at him.
Rod's concerned expression shifted to a skeptical look, but he didn't argue, just lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head as though waiting to see if Radek's nose would grow like Pinnochio's and betray him, reveal him for the liar he was.
Outside, the whale-creature moaned, the sound making the hair on the back of Radek's neck rise. Hadn't the creature figured out that perhaps moving away from the transmitter and its distressing noise would do the trick? Well, he supposed he ought to be grateful that at least the whale-creature wasn't attacking the jumper. Picking up the tablet, Radek sighed and thought of the long, tense wait that stretched out in front of him, how each second would become an eternity as the clock ticked down to his death.
After a long moment, he rose to his feet. Darkness lurked at the corners of his vision, his head spinning a little and threatening him with unconsciousness, but after a moment he felt steady on his feet again and though the darkness still lingered, Radek did not think he would lose consciousness anytime soon. Feeling Rod's curious gaze on him, he began in a calm, reasonable tone, "Well, I may not be a, a man of action, but I am not going to sit here and just--"
"Radek--" Rod began, a warning note in his voice, expression shifting to one of disbelief and exasperation.
"--stare at the wall," Radek continued, blithely ignoring Rod's tone, and waved the tablet. "Let's see if we can figure out what went wrong with the jumper while we wait, yes? I did a thorough diagnostic before we left Atlantis, after all. The right drive pod should not have been switching to reverse thrust like that, and--"
"And the jumper should have recognized your commands," Rod interjected, looking thoughtful as he walked over to peer at the tablet. "You're right. I wonder why--" He frowned, a pensive expression darkening his features, and began, "Perhaps something on the mainland--"
Radek shook his head. "I was thinking that, but there was nothing unusual on the mainland, as far as I could see."
"Huh," Rod said, eyes narrowing. He bent over the tablet, and Radek followed suit, peering at the screen and half-smiling to himself when some of the lurking darkness receded and the tightness in his chest began to ease as Rod began to half-mutter and toss out theory after theory as to what could have caused the malfunction.
True, this was not precisely "nothing at all," but Radek had never been good at doing nothing.
*
Rod gritted his teeth and avoided Laura's gaze, focusing on the tablet in his hand and sitting down in the co-pilot's seat. His calculations had to be absolutely correct, after all, or else they could miss the downed jumper by only a few miles. There could be no mistakes, not if Radek and Griffin were to make it out of this thing alive. "Okay, we're above the search coordinates," he said at last. "There shouldn't be a problem with the transition, so--"
"Right, right," Laura said, and Rod glanced up in time to see her roll her eyes. Then they were underwater, the world outside the jumper's windshield a shockingly greenish-blue that quickly turned a darker shade of blue as they continued their descent. After a few minutes, Laura turned on the radio and said, "Atlantis, this is Cadman. Come in, please."
The response, when it came, was faint and crackly, reminding Rod of the old radio he'd had as a kid, the one he'd taken apart one rainy afternoon to see if he could make it work better (he could and had, much to his parents' chagrin). It was also unmistakably Elizabeth's voice. "Cadman? We can barely hear you."
"We're going to lose you completely once we get deeper," Rod informed her. He shot a half-conspiratorial smile at Laura, one she didn't return even as he added brightly, "So now would be a good time to wish us luck." Even as the words fell from his lips, though, he thought of wishing Radek good luck earlier that day and the smile on his lips took on a shade of ruefulness, the attempt at a light-hearted moment falling flat.
"Good luck then," Elizabeth said, and if she was still angry with him, the anger couldn't be made out from amid the crackling. There was a faint, echoed, "Good luck, Doctor, Lieutenant," and Rod knew that Sumner was standing next to Elizabeth in the control room, gravely offering his support.
"We'll contact you as soon as we head back to the surface, let you know if we're going to be needing any of Sheppard's fancy flying today," Laura said, a sort of forced briskness to her voice. "Have Sheppard and the divers on Jumper Eight standing by, just in case."
"Of course. Weir out."
There was silence for a moment, one of those silences that made Rod instinctively want to offer up a smile of reassurance and a joke or two to break the ice, but judging by Laura's stony expression, it wouldn't be well-received. He fiddled with the tablet for a moment, frowning at the sporadic life-sign readings. Then again, he supposed it would be odd for the planet's ocean not to contain any life whatsoever. Making a mental note to speak to the biologists and zoologists about the ocean life, he gritted his teeth and tried to bear the oppressive quiet of the jumper.
At last, though, he sighed and said, putting all the conviction he had into the words, "We're going to find him."
"I know," she said, and now it was her turn to avoid his eyes, keeping her gaze firmly on the screen as she took them even deeper. There was another beat of silence, and then she said coolly, apparently still irritated about the 'letting your emotions get the best of you' comment, "Leveling out at nine hundred and ninety feet. Don't you have a cloak to convert into a shield, McKay?"
"Yes," Rod said, and couldn't quite conceal a grimace as the jumper chose that moment to groan under the pressure of the ocean. He quickly got to work as Laura commented, "Better hurry, McKay. Be a pretty lousy rescue if you don't have that shield up and running by the time we find them." This time he endured the silence, submerging himself in his work, and it was only when he made a small sound of satisfaction and looked up to grin at Laura that his neck twinged and he realized how long he'd been huddled over the tablet, furiously working.
"Figured it out?" Laura asked, and now there was a smile for him, hope obvious in her eyes. The hope quickly changed to a look of relief as Rod initialized the shield and it shimmered into life. "Good job, McKay," she said, and her relief softened the words into something that might have almost been sincerity. "Now we just need to figure out where the hell their jumper got to."
"Yes, we--" Rod stopped, frowning at the tablet and mentally cursing at the information displayed on the screen. "Wait."
"Wait?" Laura echoed, one eyebrow raised. "In case you haven't noticed, we're sort of in a hurry, McKay--"
"The shield's draining our power at an alarmingly fast rate," Rod said, for once not caring that he was being rude and interrupting her. He grimaced. "Which means, thanks to the pressure the ocean's exerting on the jumper, our power is being continuously drained. Once we go deeper, we'll have thirty minutes or so before the power's completely gone."
Laura's face went pale and still for a moment. Then she shook her head, a determined look chasing away any other emotion from her face, and shrugged. "Well, I guess we're going to be needing some of Sheppard's fancy flying after all," she said, matter-of-fact. "Descending through one thousand."
There was another stretch of silence, and then Laura said in an almost conversational tone, "By the way, McKay, the next time you want to avoid getting stuck in a jumper with me, don't play the 'women are more emotional' card. Both Doctor Weir and I wanted to kick your ass for that one." When he just blinked at her, she offered him another one of her patented shark-like smiles, the ones that never quite reached her eyes, and added almost sweetly, "God knows what Teyla will do to you when she hears about it."
"I didn't mean it offensive--" Rod began, and then sighed and gave up at Laura's skeptical look. "Look, maybe we could just focus on rescuing Radek and Griffin." Despite himself, a hopeful, slightly desperate note crept into his voice, and for the first time today, a mischievous look lightened Laura's features and chased the shadows from her eyes.
"Right. As if I'm going to let you forget about how much you fucked up in Weir's office." She laughed then, her smile actually reaching her eyes, and she reached out to pat him on the shoulder with just enough force to knock his breath from him but not enough to bruise. "Hey, someone's got to chip at that wall of supposed perfection you've built around yourself, McKay. Besides, consider this payback for Carson."
Rod flushed a little at that, Carson's flustered, dismayed look and Perna's shocked, devastated expression all too vivid in his mind. "How was I supposed to know that he'd been seeing Perna?" he found himself protesting. "She hated him ever since he put a stop to the experiments with that drug of theirs. I mean, I once saw her actually dump a glass of juice on his shirt and storm out of the mess hall!"
"Sure, last year," Laura said dryly. This time when her hazel eyes focused on him, he couldn't define the gleam in her eyes, though he suspected it was probably mild exasperation, or amusement, or a jumbled mixture of both. "One of your problems is that you never notice when people change, McKay. I mean, sure, I had a crush on Carson, but I'd only been on Atlantis a few weeks. I didn't know he'd been mooning after Perna for nearly a year and had finally convinced her that he was serious. You should have."
Rod frowned and looked down at the tablet in his hand. Did she really have to harp on that particular mistake? He remembered all too well how long it had taken Carson to forgive him, could recall each word of his frantic conversation with Perna as he tried to convince her that Carson really was loyal rather than a faithless bastard. Sometimes he half-suspected Carson still held a grudge; he knew Perna did, her gaze dark with disapproval every time they met.
When Laura opened her mouth to keep needling him, he said quickly, "I'm having trouble locating the jumper," knowing it was cruel but desperately wanting, needing a different conversation than the one they were having. Rather than relief, though, he felt his stomach twist with guilt as the mischief vanished from Laura's face and was replaced by alarm. "It might be the shields or the depth, there's no way to be certain, but--"
Laura snatched the tablet from him, stared fiercely at it as though she could make the crashed jumper reappear by sheer will. He was silent, watching a muscle jump in her jaw as she stared and stared and continued to stare. Then she frowned and tilted her head. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at something on the tablet's screen.
When he leaned over to see, heart leaping into his throat that perhaps she'd seen something he hadn't, she tapped the screen where one of the life-signs flickered in and out of existence. "Oh," he said, disappointed. "That's not them. It's too big, just some sort of sea creature that--"
"That's circling something," Laura pointed out.
For a moment Rod just stared at her, wondering how he could have missed that and thanking Elizabeth and Sumner and Sheppard for coercing him into taking her along. Then he thought desperately at the jumper, 'We need the H.U.D,' and said aloud, "We've only got twelve minutes left, but maybe--" Though he left the sentence unfinished, the silent, 'But maybe the creature's found something interesting, like a lost jumper' hung in the air.
Laura smiled, hope and despair, fear and happiness, warring for dominance on her face, and if there'd been an engine to rev up and a pedal to stomp, Rod was certain Laura would have had the jumper gunning for the area where the sea creature was circling, the area that began broadcasting a very weak but definite distress signal as they got closer.
-Onto Part Three-
Pairing or Character(s): Mensa!Radek/Mensa!Laura, Rod McKay, Mensa!Elizabeth, Mensa!Sheppard, mention of Mensa!Carson/Mensa!Perna
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: MENSA-verse
Rating: R
Part One of Slow and Subtle Art of Drowning
Ignoring his protesting knees, Radek knelt next to the bench and typed away at the tablet, his nose almost brushing the screen as he squinted painfully at the information he was scrolling through. If only his headache would go away. Oh, he'd found some aspirin in the emergency kits, of course, but then he hadn't been able to recall if one was allowed to take aspirin with a possible concussion, and so had been forced to set the aspirin aside, where it tempted him like a siren song.
Behind him, Rod inhaled sharply and made a quiet sound of disagreement.
Radek glanced at him, taking in the expression of ‘I saw something you missed, but I don’t want to burst your bubble’ that had formed on Rod’s face, the way those blue eyes slid away from his. “What is it?”
The expression shifted to a stubborn look. “I’m not helping you, remember?” Had it been anyone else, the tone would have been considered testy, but since this was Rod, it was merely matter-of-fact.
Radek looked down at the tablet and frowned. There didn’t seem to be any errors, but then again, possible concussion. After a moment, he snorted to himself. No, no, he was fine. Rod was merely trying to distract him, that was all. He resumed typing, ignoring the weight of Rod's gaze on the back of his neck. Well, he attempted to ignore Rod's gaze, anyway, but it was like an itch he couldn't scratch or ignore.
After a moment he turned and demanded, “What? What did you see?” He forced himself upright, knees all but creaking in protest as he shoved the tablet under Rod’s nose. “Look, Rod -- if you, if you, if you saw something, just, just, tell me. Not that I believe I made a mistake, really, but I do have a possible concussion and with this headache--”
Rod still didn’t meet his eyes, in fact, stubbornly clenched his jaw and stayed silent, and after a moment Radek scowled darkly, annoyed at himself for even doubting his own calculations. “Do you really think you are fooling me? There’s nothing wrong with my calculations. You are just trying to distract me.”
Guileless blue eyes met his at that. “Sorry?”
Radek lowered the tablet, glared at the other man, all but snarled, “You are acting like a child, trying to slow me down!”
Rod frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t, don’t play mind games with me, Rod!” Heat bloomed in his cheeks, and he could feel himself start to tremble in suppressed aggravation at Rod’s innocent tone. He had always imagined Rod to be a good actor -- no one could be that pleasant all the time, after all -- but still, the audacity in trying to carry on the charade when Radek had figured it out--
“I am a mind game,” Rod pointed out dryly, interrupting Radek’s furious thoughts.
Radek glared at him and said in a sharp, cold voice, “If you refuse to help me, then just stay on your side of the jumper,” before he turned back towards the bench. He had just begun to kneel down when jumper shuddered violently. He fell sideways, missing hitting his chin on the bench by mere millimeters, but the hard landing on the jumper’s floor knocked the wind from him nonetheless. After a moment, he lifted his head and stared at Rod, who had remained standing, apparently unaffected by the jumper’s convulsive shudder, damn him.
“What now?” he demanded, still a little breathless as he painfully got to his feet.
“Feels like we hit the bottom,” Rod said.
For a moment, Radek’s heart stopped, and then it resumed beating at a quick, irregular pace, pounding in his ears as he muttered, “Well, this is, this is good, then. The chances of us imploding are much smaller, after all, and, and--”
“Radek--”
He held up a hand, trying to think through the roaring in his ears and ignoring the expression of half-pity, half-concern on Rod’s face. “Don’t ‘Radek’ me, just this once. Can I not at least take a moment to enjoy the one bit of good luck I’ve had all day?”
“This isn't good, Radek,” Rod persisted. “And you know it.”
“Stop,” Radek snapped, voice rising without his consent, rising and almost cracking. “Just, just, just -- just be quiet! You come in here, you do nothing to help me, you say the one plan I have is terrible, you -- you claim to be a creation of my mind and yet you continue to be completely and utterly useless!”
“Only because you won’t listen to me--” Rod stopped, sighed, and pointed. “Look.” He lowered his gaze to the floor and Radek followed suit, blinking stupidly at the water.
His vision went gray, and for a moment he could picture it, see how the water would fill the compartment until-- “It -- that’s always been there.” It took a moment for Radek to realize that those whispered words had come from his lips.
“No, it hasn’t,” Rod said grimly. “The impact with the ocean floor must have created a micro-fissure in the hull.”
Radek didn’t realize he’d taken a step back, and then another, until the back of his legs bumped against the bench. “We’re taking on water,” he said, almost in a daze, because he could still see the water rising over his head, could still see Rod helplessly watching him drown. He closed his eyes, but the images appeared on the back of his eyelids, and after a moment he swallowed back a lump of despair and muttered, “I wish I knew how to swim. Truly, I do.”
“Radek,” Rod said, voice soft, and Radek shook his head before the hallucination could say anything more, probably something meant to motivate him, galvanize him into action.
He squared his shoulders, ignoring the frantic, unsteady flutter of his heart in his chest. “Well, what is it they say? You are never too old to learn?” Radek was a little pleased when his voice merely wobbled and didn’t crack from terror. Staring down at the water that continued to gush into the compartment, he took a deep breath and then knelt down to begin his survey of the damage.
By the time he had examined the entire seam, the ice-cold water was up to his knees, and he was drenched clean to the bone and shivering so hard that his teeth chattered. He finally stood, brushing soaked strands away from his face, and grabbed his glasses from one of the benches before he walked over to where Rod stood at the rear of the ship.
Radek cleared his throat, waited for a moment until the worst of the shivering had subsided, and then said, attempting a conversational tone, “You know, I -- I was just actually-- I was just, you know, thinking what would complete this experience would be freezing cold sea water in the compartment, lots of it. After all, who would not find it highly ironic to die from drowning inside a jumper when there a whole ocean outside the compartment?”
“You can fix this, Radek.”
He shook his head, the chill sinking into his bones and making him feel both heavy and unbelievably weary. “There are micro-fractures all along the seam,” he said, and some of his hopelessness must have shown on his face, because Rod’s expression shifted to one of grim determination.
“You still have fully functioning life support, right?”
Yes, of course, he did, because his fate had to be even more ironic, and so the life support would no doubt outlast him. “Yes,” Radek answered after a moment, voice hollow.
Rod spread his hands, nodding to himself, and Radek couldn’t help but notice bitterly that the hallucination was unaffected by the cold. Why couldn’t his subconscious remember that misery loved company? He shivered again, shaking so hard this time that his breath caught in his throat and he found himself almost surprised his bones didn’t just rattle right out of his skin. It took him a moment to realize that Rod had said something. “What?”
“Create a positive pressure environment,” Rod repeated patiently. “If you can increase the pressure inside the jumper, you should be able to slow the leaking.”
Radek stared for a moment. Yes, yes, that would slow the leaking but-- “We’d never be able to stop it,” he reminded the hallucination, shoulders slumping a little.
Rod shrugged and looked unperturbed at the bleak reminder. “I’m not saying that we could -- we’re just trying to buy time here.”
“In order to make death as long and as drawn-out as possible,” Radek muttered with more than a touch of bitterness, and now Rod rolled his eyes, something of his calm façade cracking to reveal a mixture of irritation and exasperation.
“Just max it out, Radek.”
“Fine, fine,” Radek muttered, snatching the tablet up from where it had been halfway floating on the bench and sitting down on the partially submerged bench. “Just give me a moment.” His hands were numb and clumsy, and he quietly cursed as he struggled with the tiny keyboard yet again.
“We should probably find a way to heat this water, too,” Rod said quietly, and when Radek glanced up at him he was standing next to the bench, eyes focused on the tablet’s screen, a pensive look on his face.
There was a familiar expression of determination and concentration on Rod’s face, one he always wore when he was trying do something undoable. The familiarity of the look made a lump form in Radek’s throat, and before he could really consider his words, he commented, “We make a good team, you and I.”
Rod looked at him at that, raised an eyebrow. “A good team,” he echoed, half-smiling, as though pleased by the compliment but doubting Radek’s sincerity.
“No, no, I mean it,” Radek said, and sighed. “Believe me, it would be much easier for me if we didn’t work well together. I could retreat to one of the smaller labs, you could reign as king, and my life would be far, far easier.”
Rod shot him a sideways glance, his half-smile now a touch rueful. “You know, most people enjoy working with me. It’s only you -- and well, Sheppard, but he complains about everyone, so he doesn’t really count -- who makes interacting with me seem like a trial and tribulation of some sort.”
“That is because it is a tribulation,” Radek muttered.
“Excuse me?” Rod sounded very much like he was trying not to laugh, and failing horribly. “Why? I’m pleasant, supportive, fairly humble--”
The intensity of his anger took Radek by surprise, but before he could gather his wits, his mouth was already opening, letting lose a dark, frustrated exclamation of, “Yes, yes, and that is entirely the problem! You are too pleasant, too supportive, too humble about your genius! You are not real!”
There was a beat of silence for a moment, and then Rod said mildly, “Well, I am a figment of your imagination.”
Radek shot him a dark look at that. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You are too perfect. What are your flaws, McKay? I do not trust men who are always smiling, always kind. They are hiding something.”
“Maybe you should, oh, discuss this with the real McKay,” Rod said, expression bland, hiding whatever he felt about being accused of keeping secrets. “For now, let’s stick to working on my idea.”
Radek scowled at him for a moment, and then finally shook his head, irritation ebbing to a familiar mixture of frustration and exasperation. "I suppose arguing with a hallucination is a waste of oxygen."
Rod made a quiet sound under his breath, a mixture of a laugh and a sigh. “Waste of oxygen, yes, not to mention time.”
“True,” Radek grudgingly admitted. “Well, here we go.” He tapped the tablet one more time, and then tried not to wince as the air began rushing into the compartment. Pinching his nose, taking a deep breath, Radek exhaled through his nose, trying to equalize the pressure in his ears. When the pressure finally eased, Radek let his hand drop, took in a deep breath, and then studied the screen of the tablet.
“Inbound leakage has been slowed,” he said after a moment, unable to keep from smiling in relief. Some of the tension that had been knotting his shoulders eased, and he added, “Good idea, Rod.”
Rod shot him that familiar lopsided smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Well, technically, it was your idea. I'm your subconscious, after all.”
“Oh, yes, right, but, ah, still.” When Rod kept looking at him, smile still going strong, he fidgeted a little under the look and added an awkward but heartfelt, “Thank you.” It was almost ridiculous how difficult it was to say that, even to a hallucination with Rod’s face, and Radek felt the urge to laugh at his own pettiness, because the leakage had been slowed, the water would not overwhelm him as quickly as before, and he might just survive this.
Before he could think about it too much, over-analyze the action, he walked over, reaching out to grasp Rod’s shoulders and squeeze them gently. He shouldn’t have been surprised at the warmth under his fingertips, the smoothness of Rod’s leather jacket against his skin -- since Rod was, after all, a hallucination -- but somehow he was startled anyway.
Rod blinked at him, an expression of bemusement on his face, and Radek supposed he couldn't blame him for being confused. After all, how many times had Rod given him a friendly pat on the back or supportive squeeze to the shoulder and earned himself a testy reminder that Radek did not appreciate having his personal space invaded? “Uh,” Rod said at last, still staring, and Radek resisted the urge to laugh at having rendered Rod speechless by initiating physical contact for the first time.
“Thank you, McKay,” he said again, and this time the gratitude didn’t scratch his throat.
Rod blinked slowly. “You’re, uh, welcome.” He looked puzzled for another moment, and then finally shook his head a little, raising an eyebrow and smiling. “Feeling especially grateful?”
It was Radek’s turn to blink, and then he realized that his hands were still on Rod’s shoulders, the leather smooth and warm beneath his fingertips. He let his hands drop to his sides, smiled crookedly. “Head injury, remember?”
“Right,” Rod agreed.
Picking the tablet up from where he'd set it down on the bench, Radek tapped the screen, feeling almost hopeful for the first time since the jumper had bucked like an anxious colt beneath him. "Now just excuse me while I work on getting myself out of this," he said absently as he glanced up at the overhead panel, trying to figure out how, exactly, he could do that.
“You’re not going to still try and control the jumper from that little thing, are you?” Rod sounded incredulous, and Radek didn’t bother looking over. He could easily picture the expression of disbelief on the other man’s face, the way Rod would be staring at him as though he’d suddenly grown two heads or sprouted wings.
“Yes, yes, I am,” he said, still looking at the panel. “And I have to do it quickly before power levels drop below fifty percent. So, that leaves me approximately--” He paused, glanced at his watch. “Approximately ten minutes.” There was a moment of silence, one in which Radek knew Rod was gearing up to argue with him, and then he added, keeping his voice even, “If you are not going to help, then please stand back and keep quiet.”
“You need to stop this, Radek,” Rod said, low and earnest, and Radek rolled his eyes.
“Stop rescuing myself so you don’t have to pull off some daring rescue? I do not think so, McKay.”
“No, stop doing this just to spite me.” As Radek turned to stare, Rod lifted his chin in a defiant gesture and folded his arms against his chest. “Just look at what happened the last time you did something out of spite.” He nodded towards the water that was still at Radek’s knees.
Radek snorted even as some of his earlier relief and warmth towards Rod was replaced by all-too-familiar annoyance. “I think I have finally found your flaw, Rod: hubris. Do you truly believe I am doing this simply because you told me not to?”
“Yes,” Rod said, pointedly, and Radek scowled at him, anger returning the tension to his shoulders and knotting his stomach.
“Well, I am not. True, having you tell me not to and then immediately expect me to -- to roll over like the others makes me even more inclined to save myself, but still, I am doing this because I know it’s the right thing to do.” He folded his arms against his chest and ignored the half-exasperated, half-concerned look Rod directed towards him. “Not merely because you happened to argue against my plan. You are not omnipotent, Rod, much as everyone else seems to think you are.”
“Roll over like the others?” Rod repeated, exasperation and a hint of confusion tingeing his words. “I’m not asking you to kiss my feet, Zelenka, I’m asking you to listen to reason. You're a scientist, so look at the facts! You’ll use up your power, give them even less time to find you and--”
“Shut up!” It was probably a sure sign of madness that Radek wanted to punch the hallucination, to see if he’d be able to feel the give of flesh beneath his knuckles as he knocked some sense into the man, or at least broke his jaw so that Rod would be quiet. It was definitely a sure sign of madness when he actually moved forward and swung with all his might; Rod’s jaw was hard and real against his knuckles, and sharp pain blossomed even as Rod staggered sideways, head snapping back and eyes going wide.
The pain felt like fire, searing its way up his arm as he attempted to focus on the adrenaline surging through his veins and the way his stomach had unknotted a bit at the action. “Shut up,” he repeated, quieter. “I do not know if a hallucination can feel pain or discomfort, but I will hit you again if you do not let me work.” He tried not to stare at his hand, at the bump that made him almost a hundred percent certain he'd broken something as he turned back to the tablet.
There was a moment of silence before Rod spoke. "You hit me." The statement was said in a tone of abject disbelief, and when Radek turned to raise an eyebrow towards the hallucination, Rod's expression matched his tone, his eyes wide and shocked. "You hit me," Rod said again, some of the disbelief shifting to an emotion Radek couldn't quite define.
"Yes, I did," Radek said. "Now will you leave me alone and let me work?"
Rod's expression changed at that, turned more intense, almost remote. It was an unfamiliar look on Rod's face, one that distracted Radek for a moment. Was this how Rod looked when he was actually, truly angry and not merely hiding his fury behind a bland smile and eyes that never really looked at you? Or was this merely the best Radek's imagination could come up with? When Rod spoke again, his voice was soft and Radek had to strain to hear him. "Radek, you are a smart man. You have to know that sometimes you must rely on others for help."
Radek just looked at him for a moment. Do nothing? It was true that Radek was not a man of action as many of his fellow explorers were, but he was not passive. Did Rod truly expect him to just sit here and wait to be rescued like some faint-hearted princess? "Perhaps," he said slowly. "But this is not one of those times."
"Yes, it is," Rod said, voice quiet but with steel underneath those three simple words. "Look, I am your subconscious, just-- just listen to yourself." When Radek moved to turn back to the tablet, Rod's voice sharpened, acquired a tone of thinly-veiled fury. "Fine. Just don't expect me to stay and watch your own stupid stubbornness cause your death."
"What do you mean by that--" But even as Radek glanced over at Rod, the hallucination flickered and vanished. "Rod?" He stared for a moment, disbelieving. Surely his own subconscious wouldn't desert him-- but apparently his subconscious would, because Rod did not reappear, even when Radek swallowed and repeated, "Rod?"
Silence answered him, and after a moment, Radek looked down at the tablet. Just a few more minutes, and then his chance to save himself would be lost, he would be lost, to the dark, deep waters and the same terrible death Griffin had faced. He didn't have time to worry about the fact that even his own subconscious had abandoned him. "I cannot just sit here and wait for my death, Rod," he whispered into the silence. "I can't."
Even as he tapped at the screen, though, his thoughts strayed to his uncle Damek with his low, passionate tirades against the Soviets, the way he would pace in their kitchen like a caged animal, and to his father, who would sit in silence during Damek's speeches and then brood for hours after Damek had left. Radek remembered Damek turning to his father one night, raising his voice and hands in appeal and crying out, "How can you just sit there and do nothing? How can you act like a coward and not be ashamed of yourself?" He remembered his father's response, soft but certain, "Sometimes, the hardest thing -- and the best thing -- to do is nothing at all."
"The hardest thing to do," Radek said aloud, partly to himself, partly to his father's ghost, partly to the hallucination in the back of his head, and smiled a small, ironic grin. He closed his eyes, focused on the tightness in his chest, the twisted knot that was his stomach, and exhaled slowly. "Very well."
He didn't open his eyes to see if the hallucination had reappeared. Instead, he just tightened his grip on the tablet and took another deep breath.
*
"All right, so do we have a plan?" Elizabeth said without preamble, before Rod could even sit down. Her voice was brisk and still contained that hint of frost which meant Rod was going to be in the doghouse even after Radek and Griffin were safe.
He paused for a moment, not certain whether to sit or stand. At last he assumed a confident smile and remained standing, busying his hands with setting up the computer. He could feel Elizabeth's penetrating gaze though, along with Sumner's, an imaginary pressure that lingered on his hands and face as he adjusted the computer so that the screen would face the group of four who watched him so intently. "We've narrowed it down to three miles of ocean. However--" Again, he hesitated, fumbling for the right words that wouldn't make Radek and Griffin seem doomed.
Sumner leaned forward, gaze intent on the computer screen, and remarked dryly, "However, from what I've been told of the situation, they're too deep. The grapple only has one thousand feet of cable, doesn't it?"
"Well, yes," Rod acknowledged, and pretended not to notice the way Laura's face went a shade paler and how Sheppard's frown deepened. "That's true, but we know the jumper should be able to dive at least a thousand, so if he's above two thousand, we should still be able to get him with the grapple."
"And if he -- they're deeper?" Laura asked sharply.
"He probably is," Sheppard said, and Laura's color grew still paler, hazel eyes wide and luminous. Then a contemplative expression flitted across Sheppard's face and he added, the words slow and thoughtful, "Rod, when the Wraith attacked the city, you and Radek were able to turn the shield into a cloak."
"Yes, but--" Something clicked in his head, and Rod snapped his fingers and nodded, wondering why he hadn't thought of that. "Yes, yes, I see what you're-- we could do the opposite, turn the jumper's cloak into a shield. That would hold the water back." And take significantly more power, but Rod would cross that bridge when he came to it. They would just have to shut down all systems that weren't vital.
When he looked away from Sheppard though, Elizabeth and Sumner were both frowning and wearing doubtful looks, expressions Rod recognized all too well. They were the looks the colonel and Elizabeth wore whenever they suspected that Rod was being perhaps a shade too optimistic. "Wouldn't that take hours to reconfigure, Doctor?" Sumner asked. "As much as I want to rescue Captain Griffin and Doctor Zelenka, we have limited time here."
"Oh, Sheppard and I will take what we need, make the changes down there--"
Sheppard cleared his throat. "I'm not going, Rod."
Rod stared for a moment, blinking. He had to have misheard because-- "But you're the best pilot we have! We--"
"Exactly," Sheppard said in that slow, unrelenting way of his, when he'd made up his mind and neither hell nor high water could budge him. "And we all know that changing the cloak into the shield will take up an enormous amount of energy. The rescue jumper might not make it back to the surface, and if that happens, you're going to need me to do some pretty fancy footwork to keep you all from ending up on the bottom of the ocean."
"But--" Rod began, but Sumner and Elizabeth were already nodding in agreement. He resisted the urge to argue, to tell them that he needed Sheppard's skill with the jumper now, not have it be wasted on a second rescue that might not even happen. He bit back the argument that rose to his lips, forced the sentences into the box of negative things in the back of his head, since it was obvious that the argument would be three (perhaps four) against one and he'd just be wasting breath and precious time. "Fine." It took all his strength to have the word come out as accepting, rather than sharp and biting. "Who's going to pilot the jumper then?"
"I will."
"You?" A shade of incredulity colored Rod's voice, but he couldn't help it. Were they all seriously thinking that Cadman piloting the jumper was a good plan? She was, all right, yes, she was an excellent pilot, one of the best on Atlantis even, but ever since the unfortunate incident with the Wraith dart, they all knew she made him quietly uneasy, for reasons he couldn't quite explain. They had to realize he didn't need this distraction. It was his turn to clear his throat, and when he spoke, his tone was understanding, conciliatory. "All right, yes, Lieutenant, you have the gene, but do you really think you won't, ah, let your emotions cloud your--"
He stopped at Laura's expression. Her face was still pale, but her eyes were like gimlets and her mouth was set in a determined frown. "Let emotions cloud my judgment, McKay?" She laughed, but it was a harsh, humorless sound. Folding her arms against her chest, she continued, "Very PC. Now let's cut the bullshit. You don't really like me. That's fine. I don't really care, but we're going to have to work together to rescue Radek, so you're going to have to suck it up and deal."
"I don't dislike you," Rod said quickly, and fought back the warmth that was probably turning his face pink. He didn't dislike her, it was true, she just...made him uncomfortable. That was all. No more, no less. There was no hatred or dislike involved. Couldn't she see that? At her disbelieving snort, he glanced at the others, who all wore blank expressions. After a moment, he offered her a small smile. "Uh, well, that's a conversation for another time, I suppose. Now, just, ah, let me get my gear, and we'll go."
"Right," Laura smiled at him, all teeth, and Rod made certain to leave the room at a pace that suggested he was hurrying on Radek and Griffin's behalf, not because Laura terrified him.
*
"I did not think you would come back," Radek said, or at least attempted to say. His teeth kept chattering and it took far too much effort to work his sore jaw, to actually shape the words and force them past his numb lips. He attempted a sarcastic twist of his lips nonetheless, fairly certain the attempt failed miserably. "After all, my subconscious won, yes?"
"There's always a chance you might change your mind and try that stunt anyway," Rod said. His teeth weren't chatting; in fact, the hallucination looked perfectly at ease, the leather jacket as dry as it would be if they were on the mainland, standing on the beach. He even had the audacity to smile, and if Radek's broken hand hadn't still been in agony, reminding him of what would happen if he punched Rod a second time, Radek would have attempted a halfhearted swing.
Radek snorted. "Too late for that. The ten minutes are up and the power levels are too low. Even if I wished, I couldn't attempt my plan." The water was up to his waist now, slowly creeping up to lap at his ribcage, and perhaps it was all in his imagination, but the water seemed to be actually getting colder, even though the tablet assured him that the command to heat the water was still working. "So, why are you really here?"
Rod shrugged, still smiling. "To keep you company, of course."
Radek rolled his eyes at that, but didn't protest. Mostly because it happened to be true; he was grateful for any distraction (even one that involved a conversation with a man who wasn't really there) that could keep away thoughts of what would happen if Rod and the others didn't rescue him in time. He cradled his injured hand against his chest, trying to keep it immobile, and once again wished he had paid more attention in the first-aid lecture Simon had forced everyone to attend before they could go off-world. Perhaps then he would know for certain whether or not he was allowed some aspirin to ease his headache and the pain of his broken hand.
There was a moment of silence, during which Radek's head and hand throbbed and his stomach roiled, and at last he sighed. Well, if Rod was truly here to keep him company.... "I almost drowned once before, you know," he said, and then half-laughed, a hoarse, sharp sound. "Well, of course you know. My subconscious, after all." He looked up to find Rod watching him steadily. "I do not think Eliška has ever forgiven herself, for all that it's been over thirty years."
"If your roles had been reversed, would you have forgiven yourself?" Rod asked in the ensuing quiet.
"No," Radek admitted, suddenly exhausted. He let his eyes shut for a moment, the darkness not doing much to soothe the ache in his head or the sudden tightness in his chest. He couldn't help but wonder who would blame themselves for his death, if the rescue team arrived too late. Then he mentally snorted, because of course Rod would, chastising himself for not being quick enough, for not getting there in the nick of time like he usually did.
Then again, how long would the guilt truly last? There were too many past deaths, too many future deaths, too much blood and loss and grief for Radek's death to matter all that much in the long run. A few people would mourn for a while, and then they would move on. He would become just another name, someone they mentioned with a trace of wistfulness and regret from time to time, like Peter and Brendan and all the others who had died over the past year and a half. Perhaps Eliška would tell the occasional story and show the occasional photograph to little Marek of his uncle Radek. It was all he could hope for, really.
He opened his eyes, immediately regretting the action as his gaze blurred and the pain in his head spiked to near-unbearable levels. Swearing under his breath, Radek closed his eyes until the agony had eased somewhat; then he slowly reopened them to meet Rod's concerned gaze. This time, thankfully, the dim light of the compartment didn't hurt his eyes.
"I am fine," he said, when Rod kept looking at him.
Rod's concerned expression shifted to a skeptical look, but he didn't argue, just lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head as though waiting to see if Radek's nose would grow like Pinnochio's and betray him, reveal him for the liar he was.
Outside, the whale-creature moaned, the sound making the hair on the back of Radek's neck rise. Hadn't the creature figured out that perhaps moving away from the transmitter and its distressing noise would do the trick? Well, he supposed he ought to be grateful that at least the whale-creature wasn't attacking the jumper. Picking up the tablet, Radek sighed and thought of the long, tense wait that stretched out in front of him, how each second would become an eternity as the clock ticked down to his death.
After a long moment, he rose to his feet. Darkness lurked at the corners of his vision, his head spinning a little and threatening him with unconsciousness, but after a moment he felt steady on his feet again and though the darkness still lingered, Radek did not think he would lose consciousness anytime soon. Feeling Rod's curious gaze on him, he began in a calm, reasonable tone, "Well, I may not be a, a man of action, but I am not going to sit here and just--"
"Radek--" Rod began, a warning note in his voice, expression shifting to one of disbelief and exasperation.
"--stare at the wall," Radek continued, blithely ignoring Rod's tone, and waved the tablet. "Let's see if we can figure out what went wrong with the jumper while we wait, yes? I did a thorough diagnostic before we left Atlantis, after all. The right drive pod should not have been switching to reverse thrust like that, and--"
"And the jumper should have recognized your commands," Rod interjected, looking thoughtful as he walked over to peer at the tablet. "You're right. I wonder why--" He frowned, a pensive expression darkening his features, and began, "Perhaps something on the mainland--"
Radek shook his head. "I was thinking that, but there was nothing unusual on the mainland, as far as I could see."
"Huh," Rod said, eyes narrowing. He bent over the tablet, and Radek followed suit, peering at the screen and half-smiling to himself when some of the lurking darkness receded and the tightness in his chest began to ease as Rod began to half-mutter and toss out theory after theory as to what could have caused the malfunction.
True, this was not precisely "nothing at all," but Radek had never been good at doing nothing.
*
Rod gritted his teeth and avoided Laura's gaze, focusing on the tablet in his hand and sitting down in the co-pilot's seat. His calculations had to be absolutely correct, after all, or else they could miss the downed jumper by only a few miles. There could be no mistakes, not if Radek and Griffin were to make it out of this thing alive. "Okay, we're above the search coordinates," he said at last. "There shouldn't be a problem with the transition, so--"
"Right, right," Laura said, and Rod glanced up in time to see her roll her eyes. Then they were underwater, the world outside the jumper's windshield a shockingly greenish-blue that quickly turned a darker shade of blue as they continued their descent. After a few minutes, Laura turned on the radio and said, "Atlantis, this is Cadman. Come in, please."
The response, when it came, was faint and crackly, reminding Rod of the old radio he'd had as a kid, the one he'd taken apart one rainy afternoon to see if he could make it work better (he could and had, much to his parents' chagrin). It was also unmistakably Elizabeth's voice. "Cadman? We can barely hear you."
"We're going to lose you completely once we get deeper," Rod informed her. He shot a half-conspiratorial smile at Laura, one she didn't return even as he added brightly, "So now would be a good time to wish us luck." Even as the words fell from his lips, though, he thought of wishing Radek good luck earlier that day and the smile on his lips took on a shade of ruefulness, the attempt at a light-hearted moment falling flat.
"Good luck then," Elizabeth said, and if she was still angry with him, the anger couldn't be made out from amid the crackling. There was a faint, echoed, "Good luck, Doctor, Lieutenant," and Rod knew that Sumner was standing next to Elizabeth in the control room, gravely offering his support.
"We'll contact you as soon as we head back to the surface, let you know if we're going to be needing any of Sheppard's fancy flying today," Laura said, a sort of forced briskness to her voice. "Have Sheppard and the divers on Jumper Eight standing by, just in case."
"Of course. Weir out."
There was silence for a moment, one of those silences that made Rod instinctively want to offer up a smile of reassurance and a joke or two to break the ice, but judging by Laura's stony expression, it wouldn't be well-received. He fiddled with the tablet for a moment, frowning at the sporadic life-sign readings. Then again, he supposed it would be odd for the planet's ocean not to contain any life whatsoever. Making a mental note to speak to the biologists and zoologists about the ocean life, he gritted his teeth and tried to bear the oppressive quiet of the jumper.
At last, though, he sighed and said, putting all the conviction he had into the words, "We're going to find him."
"I know," she said, and now it was her turn to avoid his eyes, keeping her gaze firmly on the screen as she took them even deeper. There was another beat of silence, and then she said coolly, apparently still irritated about the 'letting your emotions get the best of you' comment, "Leveling out at nine hundred and ninety feet. Don't you have a cloak to convert into a shield, McKay?"
"Yes," Rod said, and couldn't quite conceal a grimace as the jumper chose that moment to groan under the pressure of the ocean. He quickly got to work as Laura commented, "Better hurry, McKay. Be a pretty lousy rescue if you don't have that shield up and running by the time we find them." This time he endured the silence, submerging himself in his work, and it was only when he made a small sound of satisfaction and looked up to grin at Laura that his neck twinged and he realized how long he'd been huddled over the tablet, furiously working.
"Figured it out?" Laura asked, and now there was a smile for him, hope obvious in her eyes. The hope quickly changed to a look of relief as Rod initialized the shield and it shimmered into life. "Good job, McKay," she said, and her relief softened the words into something that might have almost been sincerity. "Now we just need to figure out where the hell their jumper got to."
"Yes, we--" Rod stopped, frowning at the tablet and mentally cursing at the information displayed on the screen. "Wait."
"Wait?" Laura echoed, one eyebrow raised. "In case you haven't noticed, we're sort of in a hurry, McKay--"
"The shield's draining our power at an alarmingly fast rate," Rod said, for once not caring that he was being rude and interrupting her. He grimaced. "Which means, thanks to the pressure the ocean's exerting on the jumper, our power is being continuously drained. Once we go deeper, we'll have thirty minutes or so before the power's completely gone."
Laura's face went pale and still for a moment. Then she shook her head, a determined look chasing away any other emotion from her face, and shrugged. "Well, I guess we're going to be needing some of Sheppard's fancy flying after all," she said, matter-of-fact. "Descending through one thousand."
There was another stretch of silence, and then Laura said in an almost conversational tone, "By the way, McKay, the next time you want to avoid getting stuck in a jumper with me, don't play the 'women are more emotional' card. Both Doctor Weir and I wanted to kick your ass for that one." When he just blinked at her, she offered him another one of her patented shark-like smiles, the ones that never quite reached her eyes, and added almost sweetly, "God knows what Teyla will do to you when she hears about it."
"I didn't mean it offensive--" Rod began, and then sighed and gave up at Laura's skeptical look. "Look, maybe we could just focus on rescuing Radek and Griffin." Despite himself, a hopeful, slightly desperate note crept into his voice, and for the first time today, a mischievous look lightened Laura's features and chased the shadows from her eyes.
"Right. As if I'm going to let you forget about how much you fucked up in Weir's office." She laughed then, her smile actually reaching her eyes, and she reached out to pat him on the shoulder with just enough force to knock his breath from him but not enough to bruise. "Hey, someone's got to chip at that wall of supposed perfection you've built around yourself, McKay. Besides, consider this payback for Carson."
Rod flushed a little at that, Carson's flustered, dismayed look and Perna's shocked, devastated expression all too vivid in his mind. "How was I supposed to know that he'd been seeing Perna?" he found himself protesting. "She hated him ever since he put a stop to the experiments with that drug of theirs. I mean, I once saw her actually dump a glass of juice on his shirt and storm out of the mess hall!"
"Sure, last year," Laura said dryly. This time when her hazel eyes focused on him, he couldn't define the gleam in her eyes, though he suspected it was probably mild exasperation, or amusement, or a jumbled mixture of both. "One of your problems is that you never notice when people change, McKay. I mean, sure, I had a crush on Carson, but I'd only been on Atlantis a few weeks. I didn't know he'd been mooning after Perna for nearly a year and had finally convinced her that he was serious. You should have."
Rod frowned and looked down at the tablet in his hand. Did she really have to harp on that particular mistake? He remembered all too well how long it had taken Carson to forgive him, could recall each word of his frantic conversation with Perna as he tried to convince her that Carson really was loyal rather than a faithless bastard. Sometimes he half-suspected Carson still held a grudge; he knew Perna did, her gaze dark with disapproval every time they met.
When Laura opened her mouth to keep needling him, he said quickly, "I'm having trouble locating the jumper," knowing it was cruel but desperately wanting, needing a different conversation than the one they were having. Rather than relief, though, he felt his stomach twist with guilt as the mischief vanished from Laura's face and was replaced by alarm. "It might be the shields or the depth, there's no way to be certain, but--"
Laura snatched the tablet from him, stared fiercely at it as though she could make the crashed jumper reappear by sheer will. He was silent, watching a muscle jump in her jaw as she stared and stared and continued to stare. Then she frowned and tilted her head. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at something on the tablet's screen.
When he leaned over to see, heart leaping into his throat that perhaps she'd seen something he hadn't, she tapped the screen where one of the life-signs flickered in and out of existence. "Oh," he said, disappointed. "That's not them. It's too big, just some sort of sea creature that--"
"That's circling something," Laura pointed out.
For a moment Rod just stared at her, wondering how he could have missed that and thanking Elizabeth and Sumner and Sheppard for coercing him into taking her along. Then he thought desperately at the jumper, 'We need the H.U.D,' and said aloud, "We've only got twelve minutes left, but maybe--" Though he left the sentence unfinished, the silent, 'But maybe the creature's found something interesting, like a lost jumper' hung in the air.
Laura smiled, hope and despair, fear and happiness, warring for dominance on her face, and if there'd been an engine to rev up and a pedal to stomp, Rod was certain Laura would have had the jumper gunning for the area where the sea creature was circling, the area that began broadcasting a very weak but definite distress signal as they got closer.
-Onto Part Three-