Wing and a Prayer part 5
Wing and a Prayer part 1 is here.
Wing and a Prayer part 2 is here.
Wing and a Prayer part 3 is here.
Wing and a Prayer part 4 is here.
Wing and a Prayer
Part five
Rodney trudged through the forest reciting pi as far as he could recall, timing each mumbled number with every footfall in his long journey towards the gate. He didn’t have the mental energy to work out the digits beyond the fiftieth decimal place, so once he reached there he went back to the beginning and started over again, repeating his mantra through the seemingly endless miles of pine forest. His head pounded and his arm ached, but he kept going, falling into a sort of semi-trance where nothing existed but the rhythmic sound of his feet and the numbers he huffed under his breath.
Given the last readings he and John could recall from the HUD before the glider had crashed, they had estimated that gate lay roughly 20 kilometers east of the crash site. If he kept up a reasonable pace, Rodney reckoned that he could make it there about five hours. Fortunately the terrain was mostly flat, so it was fairly easy going, even given the extent of his injuries and his falling blood sugar levels.
Before he had left, John had helped him wrap up his arm using part of his jacket, arguing that Rodney needed the support more than he needed the warmth. Rodney hated what he had been forced to do - to leave John alone like that, trapped and bleeding in the crashed glider in the middle of the large clearing. He was fairly certain that the disruptions he had caused in the base’s computer system would prevent anyone from being able to track them effectively, and had designed the multiple explosions he’d initiated to cause as much damage and confusion as possible in the base. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel he’d abandoned John in a very precarious position. Keep going, he told himself firmly, stop thinking and keep moving. It was up to him now - John was relying on him to get to the alpha site and then to return from Atlantis to rescue him, so that was exactly what he was going to do.
As he traveled, the forest of tall conifer trees was almost eerily quiet, seemingly devoid of any kind of life, and the thin, almost sandy, soil liberally covered in pine needles was soft under his feet. After several hours, however, the nature of the forest changed as pine trees gave way to thicker deciduous forest. The broad-leafed trees seemed to harbor a far greater range of wildlife and Rodney's journey was soon accompanied by the calls of birds and the soft rustle of leaves swaying in the wind.
The gate, when it finally came into view, was a complete shock to Rodney. As the hours had passed, his mind hand entered a state of thoughtless delirium in which very little of the actual detail of his surroundings had penetrated. All his energy had been completely focused on keeping his legs moving, knowing that neither he nor John had the time for him to waste his energy on anything other than making it to the gate.
He'd just reached the top of gentle slope and, pausing at the crest to survey the land below, was almost brought to his knees with relief when he was greeted by the sight of the stargate standing in the clearing in below him. He covered the last half-kilometer to the gate at a run, heedless of the pain in his arm as it was jarred by his movements. Arriving at the DHD, he quickly pulled open the hatch containing the control crystals. He blinked hazily at the array, trying to get his tired and glucose-starved brain to focus long enough for him to determine the correct chevron address so that the rescue party from Atlantis could return to the planet to retrieve John. He studied the arrangement of the crystals carefully, checking and re-checking his conclusions, knowing he must be absolutely certain of the requisite chevrons and dialing sequence before he left. He committed the address to memory, burning the seven chevron pattern deep into his mind, the sequence flaring brightly behind his closed eyelids whenever he blinked. That done, he punched in the co-ordinates of the alpha site and then bounced impatiently in place as he watched the last chevron slowly lock into place and the swoosh of the wormhole as it surged into action.
Once the event horizon had stabilized, Rodney practically sprinted up the stone steps to the gate. He paused for a moment just in front of the shimmering blue surface and turned to look back into the forest from whence he'd come. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped through the gate and was transported almost instantaneously light years across the galaxy.
When Rodney emerged at the far end of the wormhole it was as if the last of his strength deserted him. Not that he'd realized it at the time, but he'd been operating on nothing more than adrenaline and desperation and now that he'd reached his objective, his body had simply given up. His knees crumpled as he felt his limbs start to shake and his vision clouded. With a start, he realized that he was at the start of a serious hypoglycemic reaction.
“Dr McKay?” someone called from somewhere beyond the fog that was obscuring his sight, but Rodney could not place the voice. “Dr. McKay!” it called again and Rodney struggled to get to his feet, blinking fast in an effort to clear his eyes.
He heard the sound of heavy footsteps and then felt someone crouch down beside him, strong arms clasping his biceps and hauling him to his feet. He let out a cry as his broken arm was jolted and swayed dangerously in place, his head spinning as the pain reverberated through his body. He thought he heard someone shout out for a medic and he found himself being urged to sit down on the ground. He sank back down gratefully and crossed his legs, cradling his broken arm against his chest and letting his pounding head fall. As the pain receded to a manageable level, he looked up quickly, his good hand reaching out to catch hold of the marine who was still kneeling beside him.
“Colonel Sheppard,” he said urgently. “He's still there, on the planet, we have to go back.” He shook the man's arm as he spoke and then tried to lever himself back up to his feet. “Come on, we need to go now, before they find him!”
“Dr McKay,” another voice said, and Rodney turned to find himself face to face with Major Lorne, one of few marines whose name he actually recalled. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”
“What happened to us? We were abducted and tortured, that’s what happened to us!” Rodney snapped, furious that he was having to waste time in this manner. “Obviously, we escaped, but Colonel Sheppard has been seriously injured and we need to go rescue him now, right away, this instant in fact!”
“Sir, I want to get the Colonel back as much as you do, but I need to know what we’re up against.” Lorne cast a quick glance over Rodney’s state of disrepair, beckond the waiting medic forward and handed over a power bar. While the medic started looking over Rodney’s wrapped arm, Rodney tore open the wrapper of the power bar with his teeth and ate in three large bites.
As the sugar hit his bloodstream, Rodney took a deep breath and tried again. “Look, Major,” he said with exaggerated patience. “We were taken from Tebex by a group of technology-mad thugs to some other planet where there was an Ancient testing facility. We were threatened, tortured and abused, the Colonel in particular - who we need to go rescue now, before he is re-captured and very probably killed!”
To Rodney’s relief, that seemed to get Lorne moving. The Major quickly started ordering his SAR team to prepare and Rodney was grateful to see that one of Atlantis’ jumpers was on site.
“Right then, where is he and what kind of resistance can we expect?” Lorne asked as his men prepped the jumper.
“The Colonel’s about 20 kilometers due west of the gate,” Rodney replied, shooing away the hovering medic with his good hand and a deep scowl. “We escaped the compound in a prototype glider. Hey, you, do something useful and get me a scanner,” Rodney said to the medic, snapping his fingers with impatience. “I rigged large parts of the compound where we were held to explode as we made our escape and thoroughly trashed their computer network. As a result, I think it unlikely that someone would have located the crash site yet, but I can’t guarantee it.”
Just then the medic returned, an Ancient scanner in his hand. Handicapped somewhat by his broken arm, Rodney sat down on the steps of the gate and rested the scanner on his knee so he could use his left hand to operate the device. Working as quickly as his tired brain would allow, he opened up the scanner’s protocols and created a scan specifically designed to detect the latent power signature of the glider. “Okay,” he said as he compiled the new scan, “this should allow us to pinpoint Sheppard’s location from the jumper.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction. “Right then, let’s go,” he said, wincing as he got shakily to his feet and started to walk towards the jumper. He was moving carefully so as not to jar his head or arm yet further, but despite his re-wrapped arm and the power bar, his head was still spinning.
“Oh no you don’t, doc,” Lorne said to Rodney, catching his uninjured arm and holding him up when he would have crumpled to the ground. “Just give me the gate address and the scanner and let us handle this one.” He turned to on of the marines. “Johnson, once we’re through, dial Atlantis and get Dr. McKay home. Make sure you also have Dr Beckett and a med team standing by for when we return with the Colonel.”
“No.” The refusal came instantly to Rodney’s lips; he wanted to be there when they rescued John, needed to be there, to see that John was truly alright. However, no sooner had he spoken than his body revolted once more, and he found himself sagging heavily in Lorne’s grip.
“Shit,” Lorne cursed. “Rogers, help me with him,” he ordered the medic as he gently lowered Rodney to the ground.
“Okay,” Rodney admitted to Lorne as the medic started scanning him again. “Perhaps it would be best if I left you to it after all, Major.” He reached out for the scanner he’d dropped when he’d almost lost consciousness and inputted the gate address with shaking fingers before handing it over to Lorne.
“Thanks, doc,” Lorne replied as he took the scanner and started heading for the jumper. “Don’t worry,” he said just before he entered the ship, “we’ll bring him home.”
Rodney nodded and from somewhere found the strength to watch as the jumper lifted off and the stargate was dialed. The event horizon dissipated and, finally, Rodney let his eyes drift closed.
****
The sound of soft voices woke Rodney from a deep sleep. For a moment he froze in horror, his mind still convinced he was back in the cell listening to the cruel whispers of Torquin's men. His panic ramped up a notch when he realized that he could not feel the warmth of John’s body lying alongside his own. His eyes flew open and he jerked upright with a cry, “John!”
The voices stilled and he felt two pairs of hands come to rest comfortably on his body, encouraging him to lie back down. “Shh, it's alright, laddie. You're home, on Atlantis, you're safe,” a voice said.
Blinking furiously, Rodney started to take in the familiar surroundings of the infirmary. Turning to one side, in the direction of the voice, he found Carson staring down at him with concerned eyes. Turning his head to his other side, he found Elizabeth looking back at him, a relieved smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He let out a deep breath and sagged back down into his pillow, his eyes drifting closed as his heart rate returned to normal. “Atlantis,” he said under his breath, “thank goodness.”
“Aye, laddie, you're home,” Carson agreed. “The two of you gave us all quite a scare, you know.”
Rodney's eyes flew open again. “John?” he asked, a cold tendril of fear coiling once more in his belly.
“He's fine,” Elizabeth assured him quickly. “With your instructions, Major Lorne and his team were able to extract him from the planet with no difficulties whatsoever.”
“He's okay then?” Rodney asked with some trepidation.
Carson's brow furrowed for a moment, and Rodney felt his breath catch. “He is now,” Carson replied finally. “But I think you got out of that place in just the nick of time. The Colonel had been severely beaten over a course of many days, the stab wound in his side and several of his lashes had become infected, in addition to the injuries he sustained during the crash.” Carson listed the extent of John's injuries in a cool and clinical manner, but Rodney could clearly see his outrage at what had happened to the Colonel.
“Yes, I am aware well aware of that, Carson,” he interrupted sharply, not wanting to be reminded further of the details of John’s torture. “I was there too, you know.” He started to struggle to sit up, his arm twingeing slightly as he moved.
“I know that, Rodney,” Carson replied calmly, reaching out to raise the head of Rodney’s bed and re-arrange his pillows so that he was comfortably supported. “Your injuries are also quite grave, especially given how dangerously low your blood sugar levels had fallen by the time you reached the alpha site.”
“Yes, well,” Rodney huffed, somewhat embarrassed because he knew only too well that John had suffered far more than he had at Torquin's hands. “It's not like I had much choice in the matter.”
“You both got home,” Elizabeth said, reaching out to squeeze Rodney's shoulder. “That's the most important thing, okay? You did good, Rodney.”
Rodney swallowed and looked down into his lap, unsure of how to deal with Elizabeth's kind words. Not that long ago, rather than complimenting him, she had been berating him vehemently for his foolhardiness in the aftermath of Arcturus. Even though Rodney had apologized to her profusely afterwards, wishing that there was something, anything, he could do to regain her respect, she had since remained distant in her dealings with him. To have her here now, at his bedside and offering him her support, meant more to him than he could say. He felt his cheeks heat up as he slowly lifted his head to return her gaze to see nothing but affection and relief in her gray eyes.
“I did what I had to do,” he replied. “We both did, but... thank you. It... it means a lot to me to hear you say that.”
Elizabeth nodded and gave Rodney's shoulder another squeeze.
“I’ve repaired the fractures to your radius and ulna, although you should be careful not to strain you arm again for a few days while the bone knits together completely,” Carson told Rodney.
Rodney nodded and did a quick internal check to see how he was feeling. “I feel alright,” he concluded after a few moments. He felt slightly nauseous and his head still ached a little, but all of that was nothing he hadn’t experienced before from a hypoglycemic reaction. He was also desperately worried about John - and the implications of that was something he would have to examine later in greater detail. Right now, however, he just needed to find out more about John. “So, what about the Colonel? Where is he and how is he doing?”
“I'm keeping him in one of the isolation rooms for the moment,” Carson said. “It's just a precautionary measure, mostly because of the infection on his chest. He suffered a concussion as a result of the crash, a nasty cut on his head, and a broken leg, but he's responding well to treatment. Really, all he needs to now is to take it easy - like you yourself, Rodney,” Carson finished with a stern look.
“Alright, alright,” Rodney said. “I'll rest, as long as you tell me when I can get out of here.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously, “And how come you’re not coming after me with your fangs?”
“Because I already got to you while you were unconscious,” Carson replied, grinning back, looking completely unrepentant.
“Hey!” Rodney complained, only to be interrupted by Elizabeth before he could get going on his rant at Carson.
“I'm sure once Carson is happy that you've had enough rest, he will release you from the infirmary and you can go visit John,” she said placatingly.
Rodney huffed a little and then turned towards Carson with a scowl.
“Okay, okay, Rodney,” Carson said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “There's no need to look at me like that. I'm just in the process of running one last test and, provided the results are clear, then you'll be free to go. In fact, I’ll just go check on them now.”
Rodney’s scowl lessened a little at Carson’s reassurances as the doctor backed away from Rodney’s bed and headed towards his office. He was just about to ask Elizabeth whether he could at least be permitted to have his laptop whilst he waited for the test results when another thought suddenly struck him.
“Teyla and Ronon,” he gasped aloud. “What happened to them? Where they taken as well? Did they escape? Are-”
“Rodney, calm down,” Elizabeth interjected quickly. “They both made it back to Atlantis shortly after you and the Colonel were abducted. Since then, they have been out constantly trying to find out where you had been taken.”
Rodney relaxed slightly at that, relieved to hear that all of the members of his team were okay.
“They’re both in with John now,” Elizabeth continued. “And I’m sure will be here shortly. In fact…” She trailed off as Ronon and Teyla emerged into the main section of the infirmary from one of the small isolation rooms beyond.
“Rodney,” Teyla exclaimed with a delighted smile. “It is so good to see you awake.”
“McKay,” Ronon echoed with a nod.
“He’s awake?” Elizabeth asked Teyla, and Rodney saw her nod in affirmation. “Good, I’ll just pop in and see him,” she said. “Rodney, you rest, okay?”
“Yes, yes,” Rodney replied with a wave of his hand as Elizabeth headed towards the isolation room. He then turned back to Teyla and Ronon. “You’ve seen John, then,” he asked. “He’s… um… he’s okay?”
“Yes, we have seen him,” Teyla replied. Beside her, Ronon grunted and she cast him a quick look before turning to smile reassuringly at Rodney. “He is fine.”
Ronon grunted again and Rodney looked at him curiously. “What-” he started to ask, but Ronon interrupted him.
“Glad you’re okay, McKay,” he said shortly and then turned on his heel and strode out of the infirmary at a fast pace.
Rodney turned to Teyla in confusion. “What’s up with him?” he asked. Sure, Ronon was never one for conversation, but that had been a little abrupt even for him.
A frown appeared on Teyla’s brow as she looked towards the door from which Ronon had disappeared. “He’s angry,” she said, turning back to Rodney with a sigh. “He blames himself for you and John’s abduction.”
Rodney shook his head in confusion. “But neither of you were anywhere near us when we were attacked.”
“True,” Teyla said. “We were at the stargate, but we returned to the market when we heard the sound of gunfire. We could tell that you were both in trouble, but we could not get to you in time. However, we did encounter the men who took you just inside the market gates.”
Rodney’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did?” he asked. He could not recall anything from the time when he’d been hit in the market to waking up in the cell facing Torquin. “What happened? Why didn’t they take you too? After all, presumably they knew you were with us as they’d seen Ronon and John together earlier.”
“Yes,” Teyla replied. “And it became even more obvious when we attempted to prevent them from taking you through the stargate. However, they were obviously accomplished mercenaries, familiar with abducting people. As soon as Ronon and I drew our weapons, they returned fire. They outnumbered us, but we should have been better prepared.” She trailed off and looked up at Rodney with regret in her dark eyes. “We were able to prevent ourselves from being captured, but we could not recover you or John. I am sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rodney replied, uncomfortable with Teyla’s unnecessary apology. “It wasn’t your fault. How could you possibly have known what would happen? If it’s anyone’s fault, then it was mine; I was the one who insisted that we look for Ancient technology. If we had just concentrated on trading for the supplies and food we needed, none of this would have happened.”
Teyla shook her head, reaching out to place her hand lightly on Rodney’s arm. “It is no one’s fault, Rodney. I am only relieved that you and John were able to escape and that you were not too seriously injured.”
An image of John hanging bound and bleeding from the hook in front of Torquin’s sneering figure flashed briefly through Rodney’s mind and he flinched. “John,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “John was bleeding - they… he… he was beaten. Badly. Every day. I worked for them and was fed and he… he was whipped and tortured…”
“Rodney,” Teyla said, squeezing his arm again. “John is fine, really,” she reassured him.
Teyla’s words were calmly confident and Rodney found himself breathing a little easier at her confirmation of John’s condition. A part of him was somewhat startled by the strength of his reaction to the news of John's recovery. He cared about John, always had, but his feelings were different now, deeper as a result of everything they had been through together. Nevertheless, they were back on Atlantis now, he reminded himself sternly, not trapped together in that dark, cold cell; things between them were bound to be different.
“You will be able to see him soon, I expect,” Teyla was saying.
“Yes,” Rodney replied. “Good.” But on the inside he was worried. How would he behave with John given everything? How should he behave?
“Rodney?” Teyla’s query drew him back out into the present. “Are you certain you are feeling alright?” she asked.
“I… Yes,” he said at last. “Or rather, I will be.”
Teyla cocked her head to one side as she looked at him in confusion. Suddenly, her eyes flickered over to the isolation rooms briefly before returning to Rodney, and her face cleared. “I see,” she said with a gentle smile. “I am very pleased to hear it. I will leave you to your thoughts.”
Rodney nodded as she turned to go, his eyes following her as she left the infirmary. He found his eyes immediately drawn back to the isolation room in which John was being held. He sighed to himself and tried to figure out just how to approach his relationship with John now they were back on Atlantis.
Rodney had always had faith in his intelligence; it had been the one constant in an ever-changing world and it had given him the confidence to face any new situation. However, his belief in himself and his abilities had been dealt a serious blow during his brief time spent working at the SGC in Cheyenne Mountain, when Samantha Carter had upstaged him and succeeded in rescuing Teal’c when he had himself declared the man lost. His exile to Siberia had been a cold and lonely one, but Rodney had focused his mind and continued with his work, determined that through it he would once again prove his worth. He had not cared what his colleagues thought of him, rather it had been his miscalculation which had preyed upon his mind. He’d found comfort in his research into Ancient technology and, when the Ancient base had been discovered in Antarctica, had felt like he’d finally found someplace he could really put his expertise to work.
Life on Atlantis had been like a dream come true; the knowledge and possibilities the city offered were endless, could easily provide Rodney with enough work to keep him busy for numerous lifetimes. Yet, with Doranda, he had come so very close to losing everything all over again. He hadn’t had to suffer through a physical exile this time, but the distance that John put between them had been far worse. Before their abduction and incarceration, they had barely been speaking to each other. That had all changed over past few weeks and, during their captivity, he’d come to rely on John more than ever before. Surely John wouldn’t go back to treating him like he had, would he? Perhaps they could go back to being friends, like they had been before Arcturus. But Rodney found that even that was an outcome he didn’t particularly relish. To his surprise, he found that what he wanted was whatever it was that had developed between them - even though they were now back on Atlantis, Rodney found that he didn’t want anything to change.
“Ah, Rodney,” Carson bustled out of his office, notepad in hand, and made his way over to Rodney’s bedside. “You’ll be pleased to hear that your test results are clear, so you are free to go. You’ll want to be seeing the Colonel, I assume.”
Rodney nodded as he shoved the covers down and turned to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He frowned down at the scrubs he was wearing and then looked back up at Carson. “I don’t suppose you have any spare uniforms?” he asked.
Carson shook his head and Rodney sighed. “Alright, this will have to do for now,” he said as he pushed himself off the bed and made his way over to the isolation rooms. After all, he thought to himself as he went, John had certainly seen him in far less.
He entered the private room to find John sitting up in the single bed within, wearing scrubs similar to Rodney’s, with Elizabeth seated beside him. She turned towards Rodney at his entry and smiled at him. “So, Carson released you, Rodney?” she asked.
“Obviously,” Rodney replied distractedly before looking beyond her at John. “Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey,” John echoed, his expression unreadable.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Elizabeth said. “Do please rest, John,” she cautioned. “Major Lorne has everything under control.”
“I hope that includes all the paperwork,” John quipped as she rose from the chair.
Elizabeth shook her head at him and touched Rodney's arm lightly as she passed him, her laughter trailing after her as she left the room.
“So,” Rodney said nervously as he walked closer to John’s bed, feeling the weight of John’s gaze fall heavily on him. “How are you doing?”
“Not to bad,” John replied with a shrug. “My wounds are healing up nicely and the doc says it won’t be too much longer before I can get out of here. You?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Rodney replied as he sat down in the chair Elizabeth had vacated. “Carson just released me, in fact.”
John quirked an eyebrow at him. “So, you’re just trying out a new look?” he asked gesturing towards Rodney’s scrubs.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I can always leave, if you’d prefer,” he replied, making as if to get up from the chair.
“Nah, that’s okay. I suppose you can stay,” John said with a grin. “After all, I’ve kinda got used to you being around.”
Rodney snorted at this, but relaxed back into the chair. His eyes moved over John’s body of their own accord. Despite his stay in the infirmary, John still looked pale and tired. There was a bandage over the cut on his temple and Rodney could make out that his chest was also wrapped beneath the thin material of his scrubs.
“Hey,” John said. “Stop fretting, Rodney. I told you I’m fine.”
“I do not fret,” Rodney replied with a sniff, crossing his arms and then wincing as his newly healed forearm twinged painfully.
“Careful there, buddy,” John cautioned. “And, hey, we did alright - plan worked and all.”
“After a fashion,” Rodney agreed.
“Par for the course.”
“Quite,” Rodney replied with a small smile, feeling himself relax as John grinned back at him - it was all going to be alright after all. He leaned forward without even thinking, drawn in by the warmth of John’s smile and his expression which was finally open and unguarded, to place his hand on John’s forearm. John’s reaction was instantaneous; in the blink of an eye all the emotion in his face drained away and the light in his eyes banked out.
“I’m sorry,” Rodney stumbled awkwardly as he pulled his hand away, feeling himself flush and wondering what exactly he had done wrong.
“I just… We’re back home now and…” John trailed off, looking away for a moment and taking a deep breath. When he turned to Rodney once more, Rodney could clearly see that the Colonel’s impenetrable shields had gone up. The warmth he had been starting to feel sputtered and died at the coolness of John’s eyes. “And I don’t think this is appropriate anymore, McKay.”
“Oh,” Rodney said, trying desperately to keep the hurt off his face. “I… I see… Of course not, Colonel,” he replied tightly. “I’ll …um… I’d better… ah… go,” he finished quickly, before standing and leaving the room as fast as he could. All of a sudden, this was the very last place he wanted to be.
****
Read Wing and a Prayer part 6
Wing and a Prayer part 2 is here.
Wing and a Prayer part 3 is here.
Wing and a Prayer part 4 is here.
Wing and a Prayer
Part five
Rodney trudged through the forest reciting pi as far as he could recall, timing each mumbled number with every footfall in his long journey towards the gate. He didn’t have the mental energy to work out the digits beyond the fiftieth decimal place, so once he reached there he went back to the beginning and started over again, repeating his mantra through the seemingly endless miles of pine forest. His head pounded and his arm ached, but he kept going, falling into a sort of semi-trance where nothing existed but the rhythmic sound of his feet and the numbers he huffed under his breath.
Given the last readings he and John could recall from the HUD before the glider had crashed, they had estimated that gate lay roughly 20 kilometers east of the crash site. If he kept up a reasonable pace, Rodney reckoned that he could make it there about five hours. Fortunately the terrain was mostly flat, so it was fairly easy going, even given the extent of his injuries and his falling blood sugar levels.
Before he had left, John had helped him wrap up his arm using part of his jacket, arguing that Rodney needed the support more than he needed the warmth. Rodney hated what he had been forced to do - to leave John alone like that, trapped and bleeding in the crashed glider in the middle of the large clearing. He was fairly certain that the disruptions he had caused in the base’s computer system would prevent anyone from being able to track them effectively, and had designed the multiple explosions he’d initiated to cause as much damage and confusion as possible in the base. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel he’d abandoned John in a very precarious position. Keep going, he told himself firmly, stop thinking and keep moving. It was up to him now - John was relying on him to get to the alpha site and then to return from Atlantis to rescue him, so that was exactly what he was going to do.
As he traveled, the forest of tall conifer trees was almost eerily quiet, seemingly devoid of any kind of life, and the thin, almost sandy, soil liberally covered in pine needles was soft under his feet. After several hours, however, the nature of the forest changed as pine trees gave way to thicker deciduous forest. The broad-leafed trees seemed to harbor a far greater range of wildlife and Rodney's journey was soon accompanied by the calls of birds and the soft rustle of leaves swaying in the wind.
The gate, when it finally came into view, was a complete shock to Rodney. As the hours had passed, his mind hand entered a state of thoughtless delirium in which very little of the actual detail of his surroundings had penetrated. All his energy had been completely focused on keeping his legs moving, knowing that neither he nor John had the time for him to waste his energy on anything other than making it to the gate.
He'd just reached the top of gentle slope and, pausing at the crest to survey the land below, was almost brought to his knees with relief when he was greeted by the sight of the stargate standing in the clearing in below him. He covered the last half-kilometer to the gate at a run, heedless of the pain in his arm as it was jarred by his movements. Arriving at the DHD, he quickly pulled open the hatch containing the control crystals. He blinked hazily at the array, trying to get his tired and glucose-starved brain to focus long enough for him to determine the correct chevron address so that the rescue party from Atlantis could return to the planet to retrieve John. He studied the arrangement of the crystals carefully, checking and re-checking his conclusions, knowing he must be absolutely certain of the requisite chevrons and dialing sequence before he left. He committed the address to memory, burning the seven chevron pattern deep into his mind, the sequence flaring brightly behind his closed eyelids whenever he blinked. That done, he punched in the co-ordinates of the alpha site and then bounced impatiently in place as he watched the last chevron slowly lock into place and the swoosh of the wormhole as it surged into action.
Once the event horizon had stabilized, Rodney practically sprinted up the stone steps to the gate. He paused for a moment just in front of the shimmering blue surface and turned to look back into the forest from whence he'd come. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped through the gate and was transported almost instantaneously light years across the galaxy.
When Rodney emerged at the far end of the wormhole it was as if the last of his strength deserted him. Not that he'd realized it at the time, but he'd been operating on nothing more than adrenaline and desperation and now that he'd reached his objective, his body had simply given up. His knees crumpled as he felt his limbs start to shake and his vision clouded. With a start, he realized that he was at the start of a serious hypoglycemic reaction.
“Dr McKay?” someone called from somewhere beyond the fog that was obscuring his sight, but Rodney could not place the voice. “Dr. McKay!” it called again and Rodney struggled to get to his feet, blinking fast in an effort to clear his eyes.
He heard the sound of heavy footsteps and then felt someone crouch down beside him, strong arms clasping his biceps and hauling him to his feet. He let out a cry as his broken arm was jolted and swayed dangerously in place, his head spinning as the pain reverberated through his body. He thought he heard someone shout out for a medic and he found himself being urged to sit down on the ground. He sank back down gratefully and crossed his legs, cradling his broken arm against his chest and letting his pounding head fall. As the pain receded to a manageable level, he looked up quickly, his good hand reaching out to catch hold of the marine who was still kneeling beside him.
“Colonel Sheppard,” he said urgently. “He's still there, on the planet, we have to go back.” He shook the man's arm as he spoke and then tried to lever himself back up to his feet. “Come on, we need to go now, before they find him!”
“Dr McKay,” another voice said, and Rodney turned to find himself face to face with Major Lorne, one of few marines whose name he actually recalled. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”
“What happened to us? We were abducted and tortured, that’s what happened to us!” Rodney snapped, furious that he was having to waste time in this manner. “Obviously, we escaped, but Colonel Sheppard has been seriously injured and we need to go rescue him now, right away, this instant in fact!”
“Sir, I want to get the Colonel back as much as you do, but I need to know what we’re up against.” Lorne cast a quick glance over Rodney’s state of disrepair, beckond the waiting medic forward and handed over a power bar. While the medic started looking over Rodney’s wrapped arm, Rodney tore open the wrapper of the power bar with his teeth and ate in three large bites.
As the sugar hit his bloodstream, Rodney took a deep breath and tried again. “Look, Major,” he said with exaggerated patience. “We were taken from Tebex by a group of technology-mad thugs to some other planet where there was an Ancient testing facility. We were threatened, tortured and abused, the Colonel in particular - who we need to go rescue now, before he is re-captured and very probably killed!”
To Rodney’s relief, that seemed to get Lorne moving. The Major quickly started ordering his SAR team to prepare and Rodney was grateful to see that one of Atlantis’ jumpers was on site.
“Right then, where is he and what kind of resistance can we expect?” Lorne asked as his men prepped the jumper.
“The Colonel’s about 20 kilometers due west of the gate,” Rodney replied, shooing away the hovering medic with his good hand and a deep scowl. “We escaped the compound in a prototype glider. Hey, you, do something useful and get me a scanner,” Rodney said to the medic, snapping his fingers with impatience. “I rigged large parts of the compound where we were held to explode as we made our escape and thoroughly trashed their computer network. As a result, I think it unlikely that someone would have located the crash site yet, but I can’t guarantee it.”
Just then the medic returned, an Ancient scanner in his hand. Handicapped somewhat by his broken arm, Rodney sat down on the steps of the gate and rested the scanner on his knee so he could use his left hand to operate the device. Working as quickly as his tired brain would allow, he opened up the scanner’s protocols and created a scan specifically designed to detect the latent power signature of the glider. “Okay,” he said as he compiled the new scan, “this should allow us to pinpoint Sheppard’s location from the jumper.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction. “Right then, let’s go,” he said, wincing as he got shakily to his feet and started to walk towards the jumper. He was moving carefully so as not to jar his head or arm yet further, but despite his re-wrapped arm and the power bar, his head was still spinning.
“Oh no you don’t, doc,” Lorne said to Rodney, catching his uninjured arm and holding him up when he would have crumpled to the ground. “Just give me the gate address and the scanner and let us handle this one.” He turned to on of the marines. “Johnson, once we’re through, dial Atlantis and get Dr. McKay home. Make sure you also have Dr Beckett and a med team standing by for when we return with the Colonel.”
“No.” The refusal came instantly to Rodney’s lips; he wanted to be there when they rescued John, needed to be there, to see that John was truly alright. However, no sooner had he spoken than his body revolted once more, and he found himself sagging heavily in Lorne’s grip.
“Shit,” Lorne cursed. “Rogers, help me with him,” he ordered the medic as he gently lowered Rodney to the ground.
“Okay,” Rodney admitted to Lorne as the medic started scanning him again. “Perhaps it would be best if I left you to it after all, Major.” He reached out for the scanner he’d dropped when he’d almost lost consciousness and inputted the gate address with shaking fingers before handing it over to Lorne.
“Thanks, doc,” Lorne replied as he took the scanner and started heading for the jumper. “Don’t worry,” he said just before he entered the ship, “we’ll bring him home.”
Rodney nodded and from somewhere found the strength to watch as the jumper lifted off and the stargate was dialed. The event horizon dissipated and, finally, Rodney let his eyes drift closed.
****
The sound of soft voices woke Rodney from a deep sleep. For a moment he froze in horror, his mind still convinced he was back in the cell listening to the cruel whispers of Torquin's men. His panic ramped up a notch when he realized that he could not feel the warmth of John’s body lying alongside his own. His eyes flew open and he jerked upright with a cry, “John!”
The voices stilled and he felt two pairs of hands come to rest comfortably on his body, encouraging him to lie back down. “Shh, it's alright, laddie. You're home, on Atlantis, you're safe,” a voice said.
Blinking furiously, Rodney started to take in the familiar surroundings of the infirmary. Turning to one side, in the direction of the voice, he found Carson staring down at him with concerned eyes. Turning his head to his other side, he found Elizabeth looking back at him, a relieved smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He let out a deep breath and sagged back down into his pillow, his eyes drifting closed as his heart rate returned to normal. “Atlantis,” he said under his breath, “thank goodness.”
“Aye, laddie, you're home,” Carson agreed. “The two of you gave us all quite a scare, you know.”
Rodney's eyes flew open again. “John?” he asked, a cold tendril of fear coiling once more in his belly.
“He's fine,” Elizabeth assured him quickly. “With your instructions, Major Lorne and his team were able to extract him from the planet with no difficulties whatsoever.”
“He's okay then?” Rodney asked with some trepidation.
Carson's brow furrowed for a moment, and Rodney felt his breath catch. “He is now,” Carson replied finally. “But I think you got out of that place in just the nick of time. The Colonel had been severely beaten over a course of many days, the stab wound in his side and several of his lashes had become infected, in addition to the injuries he sustained during the crash.” Carson listed the extent of John's injuries in a cool and clinical manner, but Rodney could clearly see his outrage at what had happened to the Colonel.
“Yes, I am aware well aware of that, Carson,” he interrupted sharply, not wanting to be reminded further of the details of John’s torture. “I was there too, you know.” He started to struggle to sit up, his arm twingeing slightly as he moved.
“I know that, Rodney,” Carson replied calmly, reaching out to raise the head of Rodney’s bed and re-arrange his pillows so that he was comfortably supported. “Your injuries are also quite grave, especially given how dangerously low your blood sugar levels had fallen by the time you reached the alpha site.”
“Yes, well,” Rodney huffed, somewhat embarrassed because he knew only too well that John had suffered far more than he had at Torquin's hands. “It's not like I had much choice in the matter.”
“You both got home,” Elizabeth said, reaching out to squeeze Rodney's shoulder. “That's the most important thing, okay? You did good, Rodney.”
Rodney swallowed and looked down into his lap, unsure of how to deal with Elizabeth's kind words. Not that long ago, rather than complimenting him, she had been berating him vehemently for his foolhardiness in the aftermath of Arcturus. Even though Rodney had apologized to her profusely afterwards, wishing that there was something, anything, he could do to regain her respect, she had since remained distant in her dealings with him. To have her here now, at his bedside and offering him her support, meant more to him than he could say. He felt his cheeks heat up as he slowly lifted his head to return her gaze to see nothing but affection and relief in her gray eyes.
“I did what I had to do,” he replied. “We both did, but... thank you. It... it means a lot to me to hear you say that.”
Elizabeth nodded and gave Rodney's shoulder another squeeze.
“I’ve repaired the fractures to your radius and ulna, although you should be careful not to strain you arm again for a few days while the bone knits together completely,” Carson told Rodney.
Rodney nodded and did a quick internal check to see how he was feeling. “I feel alright,” he concluded after a few moments. He felt slightly nauseous and his head still ached a little, but all of that was nothing he hadn’t experienced before from a hypoglycemic reaction. He was also desperately worried about John - and the implications of that was something he would have to examine later in greater detail. Right now, however, he just needed to find out more about John. “So, what about the Colonel? Where is he and how is he doing?”
“I'm keeping him in one of the isolation rooms for the moment,” Carson said. “It's just a precautionary measure, mostly because of the infection on his chest. He suffered a concussion as a result of the crash, a nasty cut on his head, and a broken leg, but he's responding well to treatment. Really, all he needs to now is to take it easy - like you yourself, Rodney,” Carson finished with a stern look.
“Alright, alright,” Rodney said. “I'll rest, as long as you tell me when I can get out of here.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously, “And how come you’re not coming after me with your fangs?”
“Because I already got to you while you were unconscious,” Carson replied, grinning back, looking completely unrepentant.
“Hey!” Rodney complained, only to be interrupted by Elizabeth before he could get going on his rant at Carson.
“I'm sure once Carson is happy that you've had enough rest, he will release you from the infirmary and you can go visit John,” she said placatingly.
Rodney huffed a little and then turned towards Carson with a scowl.
“Okay, okay, Rodney,” Carson said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “There's no need to look at me like that. I'm just in the process of running one last test and, provided the results are clear, then you'll be free to go. In fact, I’ll just go check on them now.”
Rodney’s scowl lessened a little at Carson’s reassurances as the doctor backed away from Rodney’s bed and headed towards his office. He was just about to ask Elizabeth whether he could at least be permitted to have his laptop whilst he waited for the test results when another thought suddenly struck him.
“Teyla and Ronon,” he gasped aloud. “What happened to them? Where they taken as well? Did they escape? Are-”
“Rodney, calm down,” Elizabeth interjected quickly. “They both made it back to Atlantis shortly after you and the Colonel were abducted. Since then, they have been out constantly trying to find out where you had been taken.”
Rodney relaxed slightly at that, relieved to hear that all of the members of his team were okay.
“They’re both in with John now,” Elizabeth continued. “And I’m sure will be here shortly. In fact…” She trailed off as Ronon and Teyla emerged into the main section of the infirmary from one of the small isolation rooms beyond.
“Rodney,” Teyla exclaimed with a delighted smile. “It is so good to see you awake.”
“McKay,” Ronon echoed with a nod.
“He’s awake?” Elizabeth asked Teyla, and Rodney saw her nod in affirmation. “Good, I’ll just pop in and see him,” she said. “Rodney, you rest, okay?”
“Yes, yes,” Rodney replied with a wave of his hand as Elizabeth headed towards the isolation room. He then turned back to Teyla and Ronon. “You’ve seen John, then,” he asked. “He’s… um… he’s okay?”
“Yes, we have seen him,” Teyla replied. Beside her, Ronon grunted and she cast him a quick look before turning to smile reassuringly at Rodney. “He is fine.”
Ronon grunted again and Rodney looked at him curiously. “What-” he started to ask, but Ronon interrupted him.
“Glad you’re okay, McKay,” he said shortly and then turned on his heel and strode out of the infirmary at a fast pace.
Rodney turned to Teyla in confusion. “What’s up with him?” he asked. Sure, Ronon was never one for conversation, but that had been a little abrupt even for him.
A frown appeared on Teyla’s brow as she looked towards the door from which Ronon had disappeared. “He’s angry,” she said, turning back to Rodney with a sigh. “He blames himself for you and John’s abduction.”
Rodney shook his head in confusion. “But neither of you were anywhere near us when we were attacked.”
“True,” Teyla said. “We were at the stargate, but we returned to the market when we heard the sound of gunfire. We could tell that you were both in trouble, but we could not get to you in time. However, we did encounter the men who took you just inside the market gates.”
Rodney’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did?” he asked. He could not recall anything from the time when he’d been hit in the market to waking up in the cell facing Torquin. “What happened? Why didn’t they take you too? After all, presumably they knew you were with us as they’d seen Ronon and John together earlier.”
“Yes,” Teyla replied. “And it became even more obvious when we attempted to prevent them from taking you through the stargate. However, they were obviously accomplished mercenaries, familiar with abducting people. As soon as Ronon and I drew our weapons, they returned fire. They outnumbered us, but we should have been better prepared.” She trailed off and looked up at Rodney with regret in her dark eyes. “We were able to prevent ourselves from being captured, but we could not recover you or John. I am sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rodney replied, uncomfortable with Teyla’s unnecessary apology. “It wasn’t your fault. How could you possibly have known what would happen? If it’s anyone’s fault, then it was mine; I was the one who insisted that we look for Ancient technology. If we had just concentrated on trading for the supplies and food we needed, none of this would have happened.”
Teyla shook her head, reaching out to place her hand lightly on Rodney’s arm. “It is no one’s fault, Rodney. I am only relieved that you and John were able to escape and that you were not too seriously injured.”
An image of John hanging bound and bleeding from the hook in front of Torquin’s sneering figure flashed briefly through Rodney’s mind and he flinched. “John,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “John was bleeding - they… he… he was beaten. Badly. Every day. I worked for them and was fed and he… he was whipped and tortured…”
“Rodney,” Teyla said, squeezing his arm again. “John is fine, really,” she reassured him.
Teyla’s words were calmly confident and Rodney found himself breathing a little easier at her confirmation of John’s condition. A part of him was somewhat startled by the strength of his reaction to the news of John's recovery. He cared about John, always had, but his feelings were different now, deeper as a result of everything they had been through together. Nevertheless, they were back on Atlantis now, he reminded himself sternly, not trapped together in that dark, cold cell; things between them were bound to be different.
“You will be able to see him soon, I expect,” Teyla was saying.
“Yes,” Rodney replied. “Good.” But on the inside he was worried. How would he behave with John given everything? How should he behave?
“Rodney?” Teyla’s query drew him back out into the present. “Are you certain you are feeling alright?” she asked.
“I… Yes,” he said at last. “Or rather, I will be.”
Teyla cocked her head to one side as she looked at him in confusion. Suddenly, her eyes flickered over to the isolation rooms briefly before returning to Rodney, and her face cleared. “I see,” she said with a gentle smile. “I am very pleased to hear it. I will leave you to your thoughts.”
Rodney nodded as she turned to go, his eyes following her as she left the infirmary. He found his eyes immediately drawn back to the isolation room in which John was being held. He sighed to himself and tried to figure out just how to approach his relationship with John now they were back on Atlantis.
Rodney had always had faith in his intelligence; it had been the one constant in an ever-changing world and it had given him the confidence to face any new situation. However, his belief in himself and his abilities had been dealt a serious blow during his brief time spent working at the SGC in Cheyenne Mountain, when Samantha Carter had upstaged him and succeeded in rescuing Teal’c when he had himself declared the man lost. His exile to Siberia had been a cold and lonely one, but Rodney had focused his mind and continued with his work, determined that through it he would once again prove his worth. He had not cared what his colleagues thought of him, rather it had been his miscalculation which had preyed upon his mind. He’d found comfort in his research into Ancient technology and, when the Ancient base had been discovered in Antarctica, had felt like he’d finally found someplace he could really put his expertise to work.
Life on Atlantis had been like a dream come true; the knowledge and possibilities the city offered were endless, could easily provide Rodney with enough work to keep him busy for numerous lifetimes. Yet, with Doranda, he had come so very close to losing everything all over again. He hadn’t had to suffer through a physical exile this time, but the distance that John put between them had been far worse. Before their abduction and incarceration, they had barely been speaking to each other. That had all changed over past few weeks and, during their captivity, he’d come to rely on John more than ever before. Surely John wouldn’t go back to treating him like he had, would he? Perhaps they could go back to being friends, like they had been before Arcturus. But Rodney found that even that was an outcome he didn’t particularly relish. To his surprise, he found that what he wanted was whatever it was that had developed between them - even though they were now back on Atlantis, Rodney found that he didn’t want anything to change.
“Ah, Rodney,” Carson bustled out of his office, notepad in hand, and made his way over to Rodney’s bedside. “You’ll be pleased to hear that your test results are clear, so you are free to go. You’ll want to be seeing the Colonel, I assume.”
Rodney nodded as he shoved the covers down and turned to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He frowned down at the scrubs he was wearing and then looked back up at Carson. “I don’t suppose you have any spare uniforms?” he asked.
Carson shook his head and Rodney sighed. “Alright, this will have to do for now,” he said as he pushed himself off the bed and made his way over to the isolation rooms. After all, he thought to himself as he went, John had certainly seen him in far less.
He entered the private room to find John sitting up in the single bed within, wearing scrubs similar to Rodney’s, with Elizabeth seated beside him. She turned towards Rodney at his entry and smiled at him. “So, Carson released you, Rodney?” she asked.
“Obviously,” Rodney replied distractedly before looking beyond her at John. “Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey,” John echoed, his expression unreadable.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Elizabeth said. “Do please rest, John,” she cautioned. “Major Lorne has everything under control.”
“I hope that includes all the paperwork,” John quipped as she rose from the chair.
Elizabeth shook her head at him and touched Rodney's arm lightly as she passed him, her laughter trailing after her as she left the room.
“So,” Rodney said nervously as he walked closer to John’s bed, feeling the weight of John’s gaze fall heavily on him. “How are you doing?”
“Not to bad,” John replied with a shrug. “My wounds are healing up nicely and the doc says it won’t be too much longer before I can get out of here. You?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Rodney replied as he sat down in the chair Elizabeth had vacated. “Carson just released me, in fact.”
John quirked an eyebrow at him. “So, you’re just trying out a new look?” he asked gesturing towards Rodney’s scrubs.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I can always leave, if you’d prefer,” he replied, making as if to get up from the chair.
“Nah, that’s okay. I suppose you can stay,” John said with a grin. “After all, I’ve kinda got used to you being around.”
Rodney snorted at this, but relaxed back into the chair. His eyes moved over John’s body of their own accord. Despite his stay in the infirmary, John still looked pale and tired. There was a bandage over the cut on his temple and Rodney could make out that his chest was also wrapped beneath the thin material of his scrubs.
“Hey,” John said. “Stop fretting, Rodney. I told you I’m fine.”
“I do not fret,” Rodney replied with a sniff, crossing his arms and then wincing as his newly healed forearm twinged painfully.
“Careful there, buddy,” John cautioned. “And, hey, we did alright - plan worked and all.”
“After a fashion,” Rodney agreed.
“Par for the course.”
“Quite,” Rodney replied with a small smile, feeling himself relax as John grinned back at him - it was all going to be alright after all. He leaned forward without even thinking, drawn in by the warmth of John’s smile and his expression which was finally open and unguarded, to place his hand on John’s forearm. John’s reaction was instantaneous; in the blink of an eye all the emotion in his face drained away and the light in his eyes banked out.
“I’m sorry,” Rodney stumbled awkwardly as he pulled his hand away, feeling himself flush and wondering what exactly he had done wrong.
“I just… We’re back home now and…” John trailed off, looking away for a moment and taking a deep breath. When he turned to Rodney once more, Rodney could clearly see that the Colonel’s impenetrable shields had gone up. The warmth he had been starting to feel sputtered and died at the coolness of John’s eyes. “And I don’t think this is appropriate anymore, McKay.”
“Oh,” Rodney said, trying desperately to keep the hurt off his face. “I… I see… Of course not, Colonel,” he replied tightly. “I’ll …um… I’d better… ah… go,” he finished quickly, before standing and leaving the room as fast as he could. All of a sudden, this was the very last place he wanted to be.
****
Read Wing and a Prayer part 6