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WARM AND SAFE AND DRY - PART 5
By NotTasha

CHAPTER 19: TRAVELING EVER ONWARD

Morning again – and the gray mist came in. Rodney stared out at it from his little den, watching the fog roll across the ground beyond. Slowly, he turned over, taking a moment to find his strength. Okay… okay… time to get moving again. You can do it. Of course you can do it.

But I'm so damn tired. I don't think I can do this again. Everything hurts. Am I ever going to dry out? He felt as if he'd been damp for weeks – as if it had been months since he was truly warm. I have to start moving or I'll never get out of here.

Slowly, he sat up, glad for the extra headroom, and pulled his legs close. Okay, he thought, another day – yes, I have another day in front of me. Just have to walk a bit – just have to keep going up this path and hope my foot doesn't fall off or that a mudslide doesn't come down on me– or I don't get attacked by mad deer or a malevolent man-eating sparrow …

He dreaded getting up and into that cold weather. But, he reasoned, moving was the only way to warm up. Just a moment or two longer, just a bit… and I'll go. Must wake up first. And no coffee? The inhumanity! They'd run out of the life-giving substance at Atlantis, but it had been replaced with a nutty-tasting tea that was nearly as good. He'd give his right arm and his hurt foot for a big steaming mug of that tea at that moment.

Resting his chin on his knees, he realized it was terribly early. The sun had probably just risen. Whether or not the sun would ever make an appearance through the cloud cover – that was another matter altogether. He checked his watch, seeing that it was the middle of the night still on Atlantis. Everyone was safe and warm in bed, not even thinking of what faced each of them in the coming morning.

He closed his eyes, wondering about them – the people of Atlantis -- content in their sleep – probably not even bothered by nightmares of Wraith or rivers or rain. And he thought about his teammates, hoping they were sleeping, because, maybe they were having a tough time of it.

They would worry about me, wouldn't they?

It felt good to believe that others might be concerned about him. He'd really better get back – put their minds at ease if nothing else. Time to get moving.

With a sigh, he fought his way out of his tree-trunk bedroom and found a stone to act as a chair. He rested again, in squelching shoes, in the green-green, misty, wet world of PX1-H0H. Thankfully, there was no rain this morning, but the mist was as moist as a drizzle.

He drank down the water he'd collected overnight, and picked up what remained of his belongings. He gazed at the broken projector for a moment – just dangling wires and half-a-casing. He'd lost all of his own gadgets – maybe that's why he clung to this one – just to have something 'technical' to hold. It's all I have left. At that thought, he slapped his forehead.

"Of course," he muttered. "Consider about what would have happened if you forgot about that little bit of business!" He stared at the device for a long minute, thinking and devising. He held it in one direction, and then another as he plotted and planned. Then, with a grin, he set to work.

Taking the jackknife, he opened up the partially dismembered device, and started to finagle out pieces. He messed with it, rewiring, moving one piece and then another. The mist swirled around him as he concentrated on the thing, fixing it… changing it, turning the device into something other than a holographic dart projector. He smiled when he was done. There was no telling if he'd gotten it right – he had no power at the moment to test it. But with a grin, he shoved it in his pocket. It would come in handy, no doubt, when the time came.

Done with that bit of business, he drew in a steadying breath, and took his first step of the day. He let out a little groan as he started, still feeling every stiff muscle, every hurt.

The mist lay about the land, undulating, curling and coiling, giving the word a primeval look. He half-expected dinosaurs to emerge from the fog. Not so far from the truth, he told himself as he walked. You never know what you'll find on these planets.

As he traveled along, as he moved ever onward, he caught sight of the stocky-looking deer. They came out of the fog like specters. Startling and darting away, they'd disappear into the mist immediately, as if they'd dematerialized. Yet, he'd hear them, walking through the undergrowth – secure in the mist and their belief that the intruder posed no real threat.

He saw one disappear just in front of him and, as he slowly ambled past its hiding place, he heard the panting breaths, seeming to come from a mere arm's length away. It snorted as he moved along, and he felt the hairs prink at the back of his neck.

The trail continued – and he concentrated only on following it – unable to see farther than a few yards. He could only hope it was taking him up and toward the Gate and not further from it. It switched back and forth, but for all he knew, he might have traveled for miles in the wrong direction. The fog was so dense, it might be leading him to the end of the world.

He sniffled, and checked the time, finding he'd been walking for nearly an hour. The gray morning hung heavily and he sighed thinking about Atlantis again – wondering how far he was from his home.

The deer trail had turned to muck, and he slogged on. The mud tugged at his boots, making the pain in his left foot almost unbearable as he pulled himself loose, time and again.

Must be getting closer, he told himself. Must be almost there. A warm bed, a hot shower, cocoa or something like it, that hot tea, a bowl of soup, some fresh baked bread. Warm and safe and dry.

Be nice to chat it up with the Major. Hang out with Ford or Teyla , he thought as he trudged along. Funny, but he was looking forward to seeing them even more than the other things. See what Zelenka is up to – find out what Grodin knows about the latest Gate missions – report back to Weir, fill her in on my little adventure. See if Beckett has had any luck with that pretty blonde Athosian.

He struggled along, jerking his feet from the deepening mud, realizing that his limp was getting worse with the ill-treatment. Great… just great. I'm not going to make it. I'm not the type to do this. I've got no stamina. Never been the kind that liked the great outdoors, camping and all that. Give me a nice lab any day. Give me a computer and hot lunch.

He jerked his foot free from the mud again with a groan of pain and weariness. He couldn't keep this up. This was madness! He just couldn't do it anymore. He sighed and leaned against a tree. How much further did he have to walk? How much longer? Can't do it anymore… just can't.

He watched the fog move – covering the open space before him. The trees had given way to a field, and the fog rolled through it in a mesmerizing display. Too tired, too cold to think, he let his mind go blank, letting himself feel numb, watching the dance of vapor.

I can't do this. I just can't go any further. But I've come this far already. I must be almost there! No, I'm probably miles away – following a trail to nowhere. The mud is getting too thick. I can't walk in it any more. It hurts too much. I'll never make it back.

But I have to…

He stared out at the moving fog… watching it boil and roll. It started to rain again – the gentle patter that seemed par-for-the-course on this planet. He ducked his head, ready for it.

He looked across the field to see a shape revealed. It formed out of the gray – solid, curved and half-hidden by a semi-circle of trees.

CHAPTER 20: SLEEPWALKING

Sheppard moved through Atlantis, unable to sleep. He'd found no solace with the night, so he walked, past empty meeting rooms, along deserted corridors. He should be in bed -- he was exhausted. After the injuries he suffered in the collapse of the hallway, the drugs, the long bone-tiring day, the heart-wrenching conclusions, he should be in bed.

Instead, he walked, like a somnambulist, through the hallways of Atlantis. He paused outside Rodney's lab and pressed open the door, just to check – just to be sure. The place was vacant and felt strangely cold to him. It was so odd to find it that way -- McKay's lab was usually bustling with activity. This room was the heart of all things scientific. To find it quiet -- was wrong.

It was like a bad dream. Everything about this was wrong.

He wandered, restless, listless. As a soldier, he'd lost friends. He knew what it was like to lose a comrade. It always hurt. It was never easy. Death was nothing new to him, but this loss seemed so – empty – so pointless – so futile.

McKay was just… gone. Swept up, when no one was looking. No real proof -- only speculations -- only surrender. It was all so … pathetic, Sheppard realized. Everyone ran their conjectures, their scenarios and just kept coming to the conclusion that the only logical explanation was that Rodney McKay had his life force sucked out by peckish Wraith – well, it was crap.

Without proof, Sheppard wouldn't believe it. He'd rather go on thinking that McKay had somehow escaped it all, that maybe he was okay and they just had to find him. But where the hell was he? They'd looked all over the plateau. McKay couldn't have gotten off it – not without them seeing the tracks on the slope. If he'd been running from the Wraith, if he'd somehow escaped them, he should have been back by now.

Sheppard crammed his hands into his pockets and kept walking, not wanting to think about it. He kept remembering Sumner. He didn't want to imagine the same thing happening to Rodney. At least, at least with Sumner there'd been a way to end his suffering. McKay faced it alone.

But no, that wasn't right. It just didn't feel right! Can't there be another explanation?

He paused in his stride, and changed his path toward the GateRoom. It was probably morning on PX1-H0H now. Maybe, if he gathered the right team, he could get out there and start work on those trees. It would be as hard as hell, but maybe they could take down enough to allow a path for the jumper – just enough to squeak it out.

Would it be futile? Probably. But, maybe he could figure out where that dart had gone, and maybe he could follow and catch up with it, and maybe he could disable it without hurting the passenger, and maybe he could get past the Wraith and rescue McKay… and maybe Rodney would be okay.

Or maybe I should take a flight over the planet – see if Rodney went somewhere we hadn't thought of – see if we missed something.

John hurried his steps. He knew it was a long shot. He knew that Weir was right – he knew that, logically, there was no hope. But it wouldn't stop him. Even if it took a week to take down those trees, he'd have to go up, have to see for himself.

He entered the room, finding it dim. Only the Gate and part of the command center was fully illuminated. A pair of guards were milling about. Grodin was at the control center, listlessly poking at a keyboard. He leaned his chin on one hand as he gazed at the laptop's screen. A couple of assistants looked equally lethargic.

"Hey," Sheppard greeted as he approached the Brit.

Grodin gave him a tight smile, half hidden. "You're up early," he responded without any emotion.

"Am I?" Sheppard asked, as he reached the scientist. "So are you."

"Hmmm," Grodin responded. "I couldn't quite sleep," he admitted. "I thought I'd relieve Marymere and try to complete some work." He shrugged one shoulder. "Unfortunately, I can't keep my mind on anything."

"Know how you feel," Sheppard told him.

"He's a pain in the ass," Grodin muttered. "Arrogant bastard. There've been times when I just wanted to take a swing at him."

Sheppard smiled slightly. "You did… once."

Grodin didn't lift his head from his hand. "That didn't count," he commented.

"Bet it felt good, though," Sheppard tried.

"Up until the point I nearly broke my hand," Peter responded. His eyes returned to the laptop's monitor and he poked again at the keyboard.

Sheppard glanced toward the Gate. "I'm going to get a team together and we'll take out those trees," he stated. "Try and find that egotistical SOB. Don't care if Weir okays it."

Grodin perked up. "You're still looking?" he asked.

Sheppard nodded. "I'm not ready to give up on him."

"We have to try," Peter stated, hopefully. "I know the chances are slim, but Sanchez has been trying to devise a means of removing the trees efficiently. I have names, names of people willing to help. I can have them all assembled in a matter of minutes. Dr. Zelenka has this theory that maybe the Wraith never caught him. That maybe…"

And then the klaxon sounded. The StarGate fired up. The guards below immediately came to attention. Grodin shot to his feet and reached the DHD. "Unscheduled activation," he stated unnecessarily, watching the symbols lighting. "From PX1-H0H." He gave Sheppard a startled look.

"Anyone still out there?" Shepard asked, anxiously. "We have search parties looking?"

"No… no one…unless…" and Grodin paused, grimacing. "No IDC." And he slammed a fist against the counter.

"Lower the shield," Sheppard ordered.

"But… it could be the Wraith… it could be… anyone."

"You know who it is," Sheppard continued.

"Wait… wait," and Grodin grinned, looking at the readout, as a code was revealed. "That's it!" he shouted, and quickly hit the release.

Two seconds later, a form stepped through, coming unremarkably through the event horizon.

He was hunched and muddy. He shuffled when he walked and looked totally wretched, but there was no mistaking the man who entered the GateRoom. The guards lowered their weapons immediately.

"McKay!" John shouted as he ran down the steps. Grodin was right behind him.

"Oh, hey," Rodney replied, wavering on his feet. He smiled, watching them approach. His shoulders seemed to sink a little more as he looked about, relaxing with a look of contentment on his filthy face.

John grinned, taking in the weary man. He's back. Son-of-a-bitch! Looks like shit, but damn… he was back! Thank God! There was a hundred questions Sheppard wanted to ask, a thousand things he needed to know – where had he been, what happened to him, was he hurt?

Hell, John wanted to just hug him and make sure he was really there… but instead he cleared his throat and asked, "So, I was heading to the mess to pick up something to eat. You wanna come?" He inclined his head in the direction of the food.

McKay blinked and then dipped his head in a nod. "I could eat."

"Cool," Sheppard replied, reaching out one hand to clasp McKay's arm. He schooled his expression, trying not to look surprised at how cold and wet the astrophysicist felt. Turning to find Grodin smiling beside him, Sheppard asked, "Grodin, you don't mind if we take off on you?"

"Not at all," Grodin returned, trying to sound casual. "Enjoy." He grinned like a fool and rocked back on his heels.

"Okay then," And Sheppard turned. "Let's go." And he fell into step beside the slowly limping McKay, not removing his hand from McKay's arm.

Grodin watched them go, and then turned to the stairs – figuring that he'd better call Dr. Beckett and let him know that he was about to have a visitor. There were a half-dozen other people he'd contact next. The infirmary would probably be inundated in a matter of minutes. Better see if I can have something sent over from the kitchen, too. Grodin charged up the stairway, finally feeling good about something.

"I was thinking," Rodney said as they moved down the hallway. "Maybe… we'd stop at the infirmary on the way to the mess."

"Ya think?"

"Yeah, you know. Kinda hurt my foot… a bit."

"Yeah?"

"Since it's on the way. Thought I'd have Beckett take a look at it… you know. "

"Sure, we can stop. No problem."

"Yeah, I figured, what the hell." McKay looked to Sheppard's bound hand. "What did you do to yourself?"

Sheppard glanced at his bandage. "Booby trap. Ceiling fell on us. Scraped my knuckles pretty bad. Hurts." Sheppard's other hand went under McKay's elbow, helping to support him as his limp became more pronounced.

"Booby trap?"

"Yeah, Ford hit some sort of a trigger in that corridor you found. Blam, it all came down on us."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Nah, nothing worse than this. Pirates… go figure."

"Pirates?"

"'Bogalusas' or something like that. They're the ones who built the corridor, booby-trapped it. Zelenka figures they'd used the ruins that already existed, and built their treasure trove beneath it."

"Pirates? Like 'yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum'?"

"'Avast me hearties' or something like that."

"Hmm, they used an existing structure…that might explain the symbols. None of it made any sense."

"Yeah, that's what that Zelenka thought. Said they changed some of the writing on the walls, trying to make it look like the Ancients wanted people to stay away"

Realizing that they were slowing even further, John changed his grip, wrapping one arm around McKay's waist to keep him moving, using both arms to hold him up now.

He could feel McKay shivering. God, what the hell happened to him? The man was covered in mud from head to foot. Evergreen needles were plastered in his hair and everywhere, a big glob of something was jauntily adhered to one side of his head. His hands were coated in grime, and his boots probably had an inch of mud coating them. They left a trail of muddy footprints to mark their path.

"What you been up to?" Sheppard asked.

"Went swimming."

"Yeah?" John responded brightly. "Me, too."

McKay nodded. "Yeah, I know. Figured, what the hell. Thought I'd might as well try it, too. It was nothing like a water park, you know? Wild River Raft rides… they got nothing on this." He winced as he walked, and then smiled as he asked, "Teyla… did she…?"

"Borrowed someone's swimsuit."

"Oh… too bad."

They kept walking. Rodney sniffled and John freed one hand long enough to pull a handkerchief out of his pocket. McKay took it and just held the cloth, clutching it as if enthralled by the prospect of touching something dry.

Sheppard felt the damp that permeated McKay's jacket and wondered about the swimming. As the major worked at keeping the scientist upright and moving, he felt something odd within that jacket, pressed between them. "What you got in there?" he asked, indicating the large metal square within McKay's inside pocket.

McKay puzzled for a moment, trying to remember, then stated, "Oh, a Wraith Dart… or GDO. I had to wire it into the DHD to power it. I guess you got my IDC?"

"Dart? I didn't know they came so small," Sheppard stated, figured that the solution to what had gone on was at hand.

"Who would've figured?" McKay responded, sounding sleepy as he leaned more of his weight on Sheppard. "Most curious really. I'll have to tell you all about it."

"Yeah, you will," Sheppard told him, realizing that their pace had slowed to almost nothing. "Almost there," he stated, hang on tightly.

"Ah, good," McKay responded. "Good… it's all good," he stated, his head dipped and his eyes closed for a moment before he lifted his head again, and blinked about in surprise. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

"God, I hope not," Sheppard said quickly, thinking it'd be a hell of a thing to wake up and find out that McKay was still missing. "Better not be. And, McKay, if you are dreaming, next time, include some girls."

And McKay laughed as he leaned against his friend and the door to the infirmary came into view. Beckett came bursting through the door and that was the last thing McKay remembered for a while.

CHAPTER 21: RELAXING

"Hey!" Sheppard greeted as he stepped onto the balcony. He took the seat nearest the scientist and leaned back.

McKay didn't move. Relaxing in the lounge chair and nestled in blankets with his foot in a cast and a big mug of tea at his elbow, he looked asleep. But, as Sheppard settled himself, he didn't miss the one blue eye that looked at him for a moment before closing.

"Comfy?" Sheppard asked.

"Very," McKay responded. "A hot shower and a good hot meal are things of beauty," he muttered. Dr. Beckett had examined the Canadian upon arrival, finding him suffering from exhaustion, low blood sugar, hypothermia and a broken bone in his foot – along a rather large number of scrapes, scratches and some spectacular bruises.

"Nothin' a cast, a few good meals, a round of antibiotics, and a week of rest won't cure," the Scotsman had declared after soundly chastising McKay for walking so long on an obviously broken appendage.

Of course, Carson did commend the man for leaving the boot alone and keeping the foot tightly bound. It kept the broken bone from shifting excessively. A sleepy McKay had responded with a curt, "I knew that!"

And after a day of sleep, McKay had found the strength to venture out to the balcony, find a prime spot – and then promptly fell asleep again.

Sheppard leaned further back, tipping the chair as he regarded the physicist, wrapped in blankets and enjoying the sun. It would probably take a while for Rodney to feel truly warm again. "The guys in the lab have been examining that holographic projector you took apart and turned into an GDO," Sheppard stated.

"Guys?" McKay returned, furrowing his brow.

Sheppard chuckled, knowing that McKay liked to know which of his scientists were in charge of any project. "Ah, Zelenka, Queets and Sappho… is that her real name?" Sheppard asked.

"Seems to be the case."

"Really? You'd think she'd change it."

"Exactly. I mentioned the same to her. You'd think she'd have a better sense of humor in any case," McKay responded.

Sheppard shook his head. "Anyway, they haven't been able to pin down the technology. Not Ancient, but they haven't seen anything like it before."

"Well, according to Teyla, those pirates were rather active in their day." McKay responded, his eyes still closed and his hands folded over his chest. "They could have gotten it from anywhere."

"Crafty of them. Sending up a Wraith Dart is almost as scary as flying a Jolly Roger."

"And they booby trapped the place."

"Yeah, Zelenka found a couple other boobies. Seems that the ceiling collapse knocked out most of them. One of the triggers probably started for that hologram projector you found. Zelenka found some rather dried up snakes hidden in a box within the chest – seems they were meant to be released and kill anyone who tried to move the stuff around. That, and another ceiling set to collapse. Luckily he figured that one out."

"Too bad about the snakes," Rodney muttered.

"What? You'd want to mess around with snakes?"

Rodney gave an involuntary shudder. "God, no! I'm just saying that it's a pity they weren't alive for study." Still he added, "Poor snakes… left to starve."

"Zelenka think that the snakes are proof that stash wasn't meant to stay there for so long. The site must have been used just for short-term storage. He figures something happened to the guys who hid it."

"In any case, it was all rather sloppily done," McKay stated. "I'd rate them as amateurs at best. Sure, the hologram worked like a charm, but their symbols left much to be desired."

"It took a lot of work to dig that chamber. Why not work harder at getting the symbols right?"

"It's all a mystery. And so you made off with the pirate's loot?"

"Well, we were calling it 'booty'… but yeah. There's a lot there. Gold, gemstones, crystals. If we were on Earth, we'd all be very rich men right now."

"Crystals?"

"Zelenka's got them all corralled for you. You can check 'em out when you're feeling better."

"Better have someone check everything you brought in – for homing devices and such." McKay yawned. "Check the hologram projector, too."

"Think the pirates are planning to get it back?" Sheppard asked.

McKay opened his eyes again and gave him a pointed look. "They're pirates," he stated. "Don't pirates tend to get pissed off when you steal their stuff?" He yawned and smacked his lips, obviously ready for another nap. He pulled one hand free and wrapped it around the still-warm mug, but didn't lift it.

"Yeah, I guess they do," Sheppard conceded. "We'll have the booty checked."

"Did you just say 'booty check'?" McKay asked, confused.

"You need more sleep," Sheppard laughed.

"Ah yes, well, that's a given," McKay responded. "I just wouldn't want Bluebeard showing up in the GateRoom." He yawned. "Or that Johnny Depp guy."

"Sparrow?" Sheppard supplied.

McKay opened his eyes again, as if he expected to see a bird flying at him, then gave Sheppard a disgusted look before closing his eyes again and shuffling into his blankets.

Rodney had told them about his exploits, from the cannonball off the cliff, to the tumultuous flight downriver, the abortive attempt to climb the hill, the cold nights beneath trees, the rewiring of the projector, and then the long trek with a broken foot through the rain and the muck to come home. Sheppard had been impressed. It wasn't that he didn't think McKay was capable of such a feat -- he was just plain impressed.

He dove off that cliff, Sheppard realized. God, I wish I'd gone to check it out and seen that river below. I probably would've figured out where he'd gone. Just because the others didn't think he was capable...

From hearing McKay's description of events, the major had also learned that Capt. Ozette had flat-out lied on several accounts. There was no 'discharge' from the service here, but the group would be on report. Ozette took the blame, stating that his team was only backing him up.

The fact that Ozette was sporting a black eye after their meeting was beside the point. Ozette told anyone who'd ask that he'd walked into a door. He'd offer no further details.

"Why'd they have to lie?" Sheppard asked suddenly. "Ozette and the others," he put in. "They could have just told me what actually happened."

McKay made a slight shrug, almost unseen beneath the blanket. "They were scared of you."

"Me? Scared of me?" John asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Ozette probably figured you'd blow a gasket if you knew that he hadn't followed correct procedure. He was covering his ass. Alava and the rest were just backing him up. They're his team, after all. A team should stand with their members." McKay sounded tired, his voice growing softer as he spoke. "Anyway, considering that they thought a Wraith dart was bearing down on them, they did the right thing when they left. It's what I would have done."

"No, you wouldn't," Sheppard returned.

Rodney gave a snort, and continued, his voice becoming quieter, "How do you think I'd feel if that dart was really there, and I was the reason they all stayed put. How do you think I'd feel if they'd all been taken?" He shuffled in the chair and added, "I thought they were dead. I thought they were all dead… They did the right thing in coming back," McKay added. "Just wish they hadn't put words in my mouth. Hate it when people do that."

Yeah, Sheppard thought, they were pretty damn sure you were dead – so they figured their lies would never be discovered. "Glad you made it back," John said after a moment.

"Yeah," McKay said with another yawn. "Me, too."

Sheppard faced the ocean, finding it more inviting than that previous evening. The waves seem to froth and play today, the sun glinting off them, turning everything green and blue.

He turned back to McKay, but the scientist had apparently fallen asleep, tucked up in his blankets, one hand still wrapped around the mug of hot tea, as if a world of cold hadn't yet been driven from him. But the content look on his face told that he was getting there.

Sheppard turned at a sound, to find Ford and Teyla slipping onto the balcony. They looked at him expectantly as they lingered at the doorway.

Holding a finger to his lips to still any questions, he tipped a head to the sleeping scientist. The other two nodded, smiling as they gazed down at McKay, their teammate, and then found seats for themselves.

It was a beautiful day, after all. Sheppard closed his eyes, feeling rather good. Teyla and Aiden settled in, looking pretty damn happy just to sit there and look out on the sea.

We should plan another trip, Sheppard thought. Maybe not to that lake – don't know if McKay will want to have anything to do with swimming just yet– and he'll be in that cast for a while anyway. I'll think of something, though. Plenty of other places we could go.

Someplace warm though, he decided. Definitely warm.

Sheppard smiled. They were all together again – all safe in Atlantis, warm and dry. Everything was right in the world again.

THE END

A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful feedback. I really appreciate it. I hope you liked the story.