Word Count: 22,396
Rating: PG13.
Category: AU. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Friendship.
Story Status: Complete.
Summary: This time it isn't John who gets caught in a time dilation field.

Author's Notes: This is an AU of both Runner and Epiphany, though leaning more heavily on the latter than the former. It is set after Intruder and occurs instead of Runner. There may be a few lines here and there that are from the original script, or paraphrased from it, but we have tried to avoid this as much as possible. What we have used is mainly to do with the techno-babble regarding the time dilation field, though we have also kept in some of the MALP-on-a-stick conversation! Please also note that the time dilation field does not work in this fic exactly the way it does in the episode - this is an AU, after all! - but the differences are few. Enjoy!

Beta: Thank you to wildcat88 for the beta-reading - and to Jayne for helping rescue this from my WIP folder!

Refuge
By Leesa Perrie and Jayne Perry
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

Chapter One: Lost

A recent search of the Atlantis database had produced several planets that had been deemed of interest.  Of course, Rodney grumbled to himself, three of them had proved to be less than enthralling. The first one had led to a trade agreement, but like the following two, had shown no sign of technology, Ancient or otherwise, and so had been deadly boring as far as he was concerned. 

So, he hadn't been feeling very optimistic about this planet, P0R-898, either and therefore had been surprised to pick up a substantial energy signal as soon as the jumper had cleared the gate. Of course, his enthusiasm was being sorely tested now.  Something he was happy to share with Sheppard and Teyla - frequently and loudly.  Sheppard had insisted on parking the jumper a good mile from the energy signal's source - citing the rough terrain as being the reason, though Rodney suspected Sheppard was enjoying making him walk, the sadist.  They had only brought the jumper at his insistence.

Still, the readings suggested something on a large scale of Ancient design.  Despite the terrain and far too long walk, he couldn't stop the excitement from bubbling up inside the nearer they came to them.

"We're getting close," he said, checking his scanner.

"That is good," Teyla answered automatically, her concentration more on the surrounding area than Rodney.

"Yeah," Sheppard agreed, "Any ideas what it is yet?"

"No, but it's close," Rodney said, huffing as the rocky hillside's incline became steeper, before levelling out a short while later.

"In here," he said, stopping before a vine-covered cleft in the hillside. 

"Okay." Sheppard started moving the vines to one side, ducking inside to what opened up into a reasonably sized cave with four shafts that sunlight shone down through.  The shafts and cave definitely looked man-made, as did the doorway on the far side of the cave that Rodney assumed led through the ridge to the valley on the other side - not to mention the columns that were set on either side of it.

"Interesting," Rodney said, as they entered the cave and approached the doorway.  "Looks like a shortcut."

"So, let's go," Sheppard said, heading for the doorway.

"Wait, wait, wait, there's something there," he said urgently, noticing something odd on his scanner. "There's some kind of an energy barrier right on the threshold."

Sheppard grabbed a pebble from the cave's floor and gently threw it at the doorway, quirking an eye in surprise as it disappeared with a shimmer of light and a slight plopping sound.

"A cloak?"

"I don't know.  It's not the same properties as a cloaking field," Rodney answered, still checking his scanner.  "Though whatever it is, it has the potential to be useful."

"Yeah, the Ancients did tend to hide all the really cool stuff," Sheppard agreed.

"While that is true, I'd like to be able to explain these readings better before we step through it." He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him. "Give me a branch and I can use my camera to record what's on the other side," he said, digging through his backpack and pulling out a digital camera, along with some duct tape.  Teyla gave him a sturdy looking branch she had cut from a tree just outside of the cave and he taped the camera to it, smiling smugly. 

"Hey," Sheppard exclaimed with a grin, "MALP on a stick."

"Yes, MALP on a stick. Very clever." Rodney rolled his eyes at the oh-so-typical Sheppard-like comment, before switching the camera on and sending it through the barrier while holding onto the branch.  He waited for a good minute and then pulled the camera back out.

"So, what have we got?" Sheppard asked impatiently, as Teyla and he crowded round Rodney to see the screen.

"Okay, here we go." Rodney played back the image, which showed them an empty cave-like room with no features.  "Well, that's very enlightening," he huffed sarcastically, disappointed at the lack of any technology.

"Perhaps it is hidden further inside?" Teyla suggested.

"Why don't we just go through and take a look?" Sheppard asked impatiently.

"We don't know what might be in there," Rodney protested.  "There could be poisonous atmosphere, acidic atmosphere, no atmosphere..."  At Sheppard's scowl, he pointed to the camera.  "Hey, it's MALP on a stick; it only shows you so much."

 "Right.  So, what?  We return to Atlantis and come back with better equipment?"

"Look, just give me a few more minutes to analyse these readings..." he paused, looking at the camera.  "That's odd.  The battery has just run down."

"Forgot to charge it before the mission?" Sheppard needled.

"No, I did not forget to charge it.  It should be fine..." he started digging through his pack again and brought out a spare battery, replacing the old one.  He then checked it over.  "Oh."

"Oh what, McKay?"

"The memory card is full."

"But it was only inside for a short while?" Teyla said, looking puzzled.

Rodney looked perplexed, turning the camera in his hand while examining it. Was the camera faulty? But it was new and had been working perfectly well back on Atlantis. An idea started to form at the back of his mind. Crazy, perhaps, but then again, this was Pegasus.

"Teyla, do you have a spare camera on you? I know you sometimes like to take your own photos and video."

"Yes, I have one," Teyla answered.

"Well, give it to me," Rodney said, snapping his fingers, annoyed that she hadn't already done so. Rolling her eyes, Teyla pulled the camera out and gave it to Rodney with a sweet smile that probably meant extra sparring sessions when he got back to Atlantis. Which he would, of course, find important life or death reasons for missing.

"Okay," Rodney said, starting the camera recording. "I'm going to take a short video to make sure this camera is functioning, and then," he paused, finishing the recording and playing it back. "Yes, it's working." He grabbed another branch and more duct tape, making another so-called MALP on a stick - did Sheppard really think that was funny? - then placed it into the barrier. Counting for two seconds, he pulled it back out and checked how long the recording was.

"Eight minutes and forty seconds. Huh." He looked at them, surprised. "Time must be passing faster inside than out here."

"Are you sure?" Sheppard said, looking incredulous.

"Look, it's the only thing that makes sense.  And I told you, these readings suggest there's more than just a cloak here."

"Damn," Sheppard said.

"Yeah, bet you're glad you didn't go through now," Rodney said smugly.

"Can we tell how much faster?" Teyla looked at the doorway as she asked this, noticing some Ancient writing carved to one side of it, badly worn by the passing of time.

"Yes, of course we can. If eight minutes and forty seconds passed for two seconds, then..."

"For every one second out here, two hundred and fifty-two seconds pass by in there," Sheppard replied for him - which was annoying, Rodney thought, sending a glare Sheppard's way.

"MENSA," Sheppard replied smugly.

"There are words carved into the rock here," Teyla said, interrupting her two team-mates before an argument could break out.  "I am not fluent in Ancient, but I do recognize a few words - 'welcome', 'refuge' and 'peace'."

"A place to hide, perhaps?" Sheppard suggested. "The database did refer to this planet as a sanctuary.  But why would they want time to pass more quickly if all they're doing is hiding from the Wraith?"

"Who knows?" Rodney answered.  "I should take some photos so that Elizabeth can translate it."

Teyla suddenly stiffened.

"Wraith.  There are Wraith here."

"How close and how many?" Sheppard asked.

"I believe it exited the gate shortly before I sensed it. There is only one of them."

"A dart most likely. At least it's not a hiveship," Sheppard stated.

"Shouldn't we, you know, get back to the jumper?" Rodney suggested nervously.

"No time, the dart will be here long before we get there and we'll be too exposed on the ridge.  We're better waiting it out here and hoping that they move on soon."

"This planet is uninhabited. Why would the Wraith come here?" Teyla wondered.

"Maybe it was inhabited the last time they visited, or maybe they're just checking it out on the off chance, I don't know."  John moved to the entrance of the cave.  "The vines might help to hide us, but they also stop us from seeing anything coming this way. We'll have to rely on the life signs detector."

"Nothing so far," Rodney said, switching the scanner to life signs detecting mode.

They waited in nervous silence, hoping that the Wraith would go away once it realised that there were no villages here to cull, but only a few minutes later Teyla shuddered again.

"There are another three of them, quite close.  They must have beamed them onto the surface from the dart. They are heading in our direction."

"Oh crap," Rodney moaned quietly, looking as the dots appeared on the outer edge of the life signs detector.  "They're moving pretty fast.  Oh, we are so dead."

"McKay," Sheppard warned.

"What?  You think we can take out three of them?"

"Sure we can."

"Right, right, because they're so easy to kill, I forgot."

"McKay, quit it."

"Sorry, sorry, I just..." he trailed off, watching the dots getting very close.

"React in a certain way to certain doom, yeah, I remember."

"Yes, yes, and they're heading right for us." As the fear crept over him, not for the first time he wished he had taken a page from Zelenka's book and refused to go offworld unless he absolutely had to. But the lure of being the first to study any technology they found, plus the acclamation he would get from doing so, was too strong. And his team needed him.

"Perhaps they are following the energy readings as we did?" Teyla suggested.

"In that case, can I just say 'oh crap, we're all going to die' again?"

"No, you can't," Sheppard replied.

Time seemed to stand still as they waited to see if the Wraith would pass them by. Teyla and Sheppard took up positions towards the back of the cave, ready to shoot anything that entered, and Rodney moved to take cover behind one of the two columns that were situated on either side of the doorway, or time dilation field as it had turned out to be.  

As the first Wraith entered, he was quickly dispatched by Sheppard and Teyla firing simultaneously. However, the next two entered together and one of their stunners hit Teyla, who crumpled to the ground unconscious.

Rodney watched as Sheppard sent a volley of bullets at the Wraith nearest to Teyla, but his eyes were soon drawn back to the other Wraith approaching his position, its gun raised.  Rodney brought his gun up so that it was showing around the column he was hiding behind, his hand shaking in fear.

The Wraith fired, causing Rodney to instinctively jump backwards, stumbling on loose pebbles on the floor so that he was unbalanced and in full view of the Wraith, whose second blast hit Rodney's left hand.  Unable to grab onto anything to stop his fall, the force of the shot was the final straw and he started to fall through the field as Sheppard appeared, firing at the Wraith.

And then he was through, hitting the rock floor on the other side hard, left shoulder first - the scanner flying out of his hand and hitting the cave wall with an ominously loud crack.

"Oh crap," he cried, followed quickly by a litany of 'ows' as his shoulder complained.  He moved it carefully, soon coming to the conclusion that nothing was broken and sighing in relief at that small mercy. Standing carefully, he found that he was in a large natural cave, lit by dim lights in the recesses of the cave roof, too high up to get a proper look. Rodney was just glad that they were there and he hadn't found himself in darkness. His eyes skimmed round to see where he was, or a way to go back and he saw a smooth black area, the size of the doorway. He reached out tentatively to investigate it. His fingers tingled as he ran it over the smooth unyielding surface. He gave it a push, hoping that it could be used to return to the others, but the surface was solid. Even so, he pushed harder and harder as panic began to take hold, and before long he was hitting it hard, over and over, in the hopes that it would allow him back through.

"Sheppard!" he screamed, hoping that sound would travel through. He stopped for a second, ear against the barrier, hoping for a response, anything so he could hear their voice.

"Sheppard!" he yelled again, his fist hammering against the surface again in desperation.

"No, no, no, no, no!" he yelled at the unyielding doorway. "This can't be happening! Why won't it let me back through?" He threw a rock through the doorway and watched it pass through with unbelieving ease.  "Oh please don't tell me it lets inanimate objects pass through both ways but not people - what sort of stupid Ancient thinking is that? The same sort of stupid Ancient thinking that leaves an energy being locked up for ten thousand years or more in such a way that a kid can release it by accident, of course!! Oh, I am so screwed!"

Looking around wildly, he spied his scanner scattered on the floor of the cave in pieces.

"Oh great, all those times I've dropped you on missions and you choose this one to finally break! What is this, some sort of cosmic joke at my expense? Well, it's not funny!" he shouted to no one in particular.

"Okay, okay, it's not that bad," he told himself, his voice rising as he tried to calm himself down as he nervously paced back and forth.  "I still have my pack, my tac vest and my gun. Oh, and the knife that Sheppard insists I carry on me - why I don't know, like I'd be any good with a knife in a battle! I'd probably cut myself more than the enemy! Come on, just calm down," he told himself sternly, trying to slow his breathing. "Slow down and think." He keyed his comm, "Sheppard." There was no response, so he tried again - with the same result. "Oh please don't let them be Wraith fodder! Let it just be radio interference, even though that means I'm even more screwed than I originally thought."

Fear gave way to frustration - at being in this predicament, at falling through the doorway, at breaking the scanner, at not being able to help his team. He hit the door again, anger and worry welling through him. What if they were dead?

He knew that the three Wraith had been dealt with, but there was still a dart out there and Teyla and Sheppard had a mile to go over difficult and relatively open ground to get to the jumper - plus Teyla was unconscious.  Add to that dealing with the dart, getting back to Atlantis and explaining the situation, let alone being able to return to the planet - all that would take time. Hours, at least, so he was looking at a few weeks in here.  Maybe months.  And that was assuming they could return quickly, which depended on whether any more Wraith turned up - and then they had to work out how to get him back.

Wiping a hand over his face, he turned to study the cave.  The only sign of technology he could see were the dim lights above him.  Even so, he started to search the rock face for hidden controls, but after an hour of searching he couldn't find any.

"So, no controls here," he said gloomily, talking out loud to himself as any voice was better than the oppressive silence of this place. "I wonder if C4 would have an effect on it - not that it matters, seeing as Sheppard is the one who carries that, not me." Sighing he sat down. "What would Sheppard do? Probably shoot the barrier, but I could end up shooting someone outside, so that's not a good idea. Actually, C4 would probably just collapse the cave down on me, and who knows what would pass through to injure someone out there. I need the scanner working."

He had gathered up the pieces of the scanner during his search for controls and a way out. It looked pretty hopeless, but he knew he had some spare parts in his pack, so maybe he could fix it. He didn't hold out much hope on that, but he could at least try.

A fruitless hour later, he put the scanner pieces carefully in a pocket of his backpack, afraid that if he didn't, he would end up throwing them at the wall in frustration. Rubbing his face, he realised he was hungry and pulled his pack towards him. 

"So, what exactly do I have with me? And more importantly, how much food?" After a check of his pockets and pack, he had found four PowerBars, two MREs, a precious bar of chocolate and a partially empty canteen of water. Okay, not much, but more than most people would carry with them offworld. He knew the others laughed at him for bringing so much food with him on missions, but who was laughing now? No one, actually. Not them, and certainly not him. He'd give anything to hear their voices right now - well, no, he wouldn't give his intellect, but almost anything else.

"I wish you were here now, to laugh at me. Except that would mean you were trapped too - but at least I wouldn't be alone! And why didn't I bring more food?" He sighed deeply. "Because I wasn't expecting to have to fend for myself, that's why! I'm no hunter - I don't even like camping! I'm no good at this wilderness survival stuff, that's Sheppard and Teyla's job! And I don't think a few nights offworld has taught me all that much! I can't survive on my own for weeks or months - or years! How long will it take for them to find a way to help me? Can they find a way? Radek's smart, but he's not me - I could die of old age before he works it out!"

Standing, he paced as he tried to organise his thoughts. He needed to think, not let the panic take over - tempting though that was.

"Okay, what now? Stay here and wait for them to send supplies through the barrier?" He quickly did the math. Even if Sheppard thought to put through some of Teyla's and his supplies before returning to the jumper, Rodney was still looking at a day, if not more, before he received them. And that was assuming the dart hadn't called for reinforcements, or beamed more Wraith down. He pushed the worry and fear that thought brought him firmly down.

"Waiting doesn't seem like a good idea," he told himself. "So, next option? Go and find fresh water, maybe even a McDonalds or Starbucks." He huffed. Like that was likely. "Okay, water first, I'll die without that sooner than without food. Well, unless I die of hypoglycaemia before thirst kills me! Could be a race between the two of them, actually, to see what I die of first. Of course, there could be people living in here. Not that I have a good track record with Pegasus natives, well, until they get to know me - and even then, they're likely to double-cross me for some religious nonsense or other," he said, thinking bitterly of Allina. "Still, maybe I can trade engineering genius in exchange for food. Assuming they aren't advanced, of course. Though if there are, maybe they could tell me how to get out of here."

Weighing up his options, Rodney decided it was better to wait. He had some supplies and hopefully more would be coming soon. This decision lasted precisely fifty-two seconds. He hated inactivity and he could always come back here after a quick look round.

Reluctantly and with much trepidation, he shouldered his pack and checked his gun was secure in its holder, ready to be pulled at a moment's notice. He knew he should leave some sort of message in case they used the camera to see if he was here - something that could be clearly seen. Spying some pebbles scattered on the ground, he gathered them together and made a crude arrow pointing down the tunnel. Standing, he steeled himself to leave, pushing aside the scary thought that the cave might be home to this planet's equivalent of a bear or puma - or even worse, that it might be a sealed system. That really didn't bear thinking about. Really, it didn't. It was bad enough trying to distract his growing claustrophobia as it was.

Fortunately, the cave only had one tunnel that led outside - no side tunnels to get lost in, and, most importantly of all, no dead ends or nasty predators more than happy to eat him.

"Outside at last," he said, breathing a sigh of relief, though the joy at being out of the narrow tunnel without any problems was dinted by the worry about how he would survive. Looking around, he could see the start of a forest a few hundred metres below the cave exit. The slope down towards the valley looked fairly gentle - which would be good when he came back later to check for any supplies that may have been pushed through the barrier for him.

"There must be some sort of day and night cycle inside the time dilation field," he mused to himself. "As well as a climate, probably controlled in some way. Well, that's something good, as that means there is vegetation here and hopefully wildlife as well. Though preferably edible and harmless wildlife, rather than dangerous creatures wanting to eat me."

It was an amazing feat of engineering and design, and if it wasn't that he was stuck in here against his will, he would relish the opportunity to study the technology behind it. As it was, he was more concerned with finding an exit before studying it in detail.

"I hope the water and food here isn't poisonous. But it wouldn't be much of a refuge if there wasn't clean water and edible food available, would it?" he tried to convince himself. "Though how I'm supposed to work out what is safe to eat or not, I don't know - and the water purification tablets won't last for long."

Gloomily, he headed down into the forest. As he walked he found that in some areas the trees were clumped closely together and in others spread out, allowing him to feel the warmth from the sun.  Here and there were clearings where grass and flowers grew. He hoped that the abundance of greenery meant that once he reached the valley bottom he would find a river there. His canteen needed refilling and as much as he wasn't looking forward to the taste the purification tablets gave the water, he'd use them until they ran out. After that, he'd just have to hope the Ancients had provided a safe water supply, or die of a water borne pathogen. Which would suck, big time.

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He'd walked through the forest for a few hours...this place was a lot bigger than he'd realised and the valley floor further down than it had seemed.  The climate was pleasant - not too cold - in fact warm enough for him to remove his jacket and tuck it into his backpack, though he replaced it with his tac vest.  Well, he never knew when it might save his life.  He stopped for a PowerBar and a mouthful of water - the canteen had maybe another couple of mouthfuls left, which meant he needed to find a stream or river soon - so he continued heading downwards.

Entering a natural clearing, he came to an abrupt halt, as did the big cat he'd disturbed. He hadn't seen it at first, its mottled fur camouflaging it in the long grass and making it look almost like a fallen log. It was about a metre in length and about half a metre in height - so not exactly a lion or a tiger, but still, it looked dangerous. The tufted ears and size reminded him of a bobcat.  It was carrying a bird in its mouth, a recent kill by the looks of it, and it growled at him with ears laid back in a threatening manner.

"Nice kitty," he said nervously, his voice quiet so as to hopefully not invoke an attack.  "Why don't you just go on your way?  Take your food and, you know, just go.  Not like I'm about to try to steal it from you.  No, no, I don't think that would be a good idea.  See, harmless human here, nothing for you to worry about..." he babbled nervously.

To his relief, the predator turned and ran, after delivering one more warning growl.

"Well, isn't that great," he muttered to himself as he slowed his breathing back down. "Predators! Just what I was hoping for - not! Oh crap, I hope they don't hunt in packs - one will be more than enough to handle if I'm attacked!" 

Moving forward again - because really, what choice did he have? - he headed back towards the valley floor and the hope of water, but this time he took much more notice of his surroundings in case further cats were lurking nearby.

He really missed his teammates, especially Teyla who was pretty good at picking up on the presence of any predator way before it spotted them.

Back to Top

Chapter Two: So Not Grizzly Adams

He found the river, eventually, after several hours of walking.  His canteen was long empty, his throat dry and he desperately needed a drink.

The water was beautifully clear and he could see down to the stones on the riverbed.  Well, more of a wide stream than a river, really - maybe a few feet deep at most. He leaned out, away from the bank, and filled his canteen up, placing a purification tablet in it. He made himself wait the required time, even though it felt like torture, and then drank deeply despite the terrible taste from the tablet. He rested on the riverbank, watching the water flow and listening to it trickle over rocks close by. A bird high above him started tweeting, another answering from another tree further down. It was all oddly soothing, and after walking who knew how many miles - and just how big was this time dilation field anyway? - exhaustion tugged at him.

He took out another PowerBar, but hesitated. He only had three left, plus the two MREs and the chocolate bar, and he knew they wouldn't go far. He should really save them, but he already felt a little shaky - a sure sign of a hypoglycaemic reaction starting - so he ate it while vowing to not eat again until the next day. Unless he felt shaky again, of course.

It was starting to get darker. Not knowing how long dusk lasted, he knew he needed to find shelter, or at least find a place to start a fire, but he was so tired. Sighing, he forced himself to his feet and followed the riverbank. After about half an hour, with it getting darker all the time, he found a small clearing. Not shelter, but at least he could build a fire here to keep warm when, presumably, the temperature dropped during the night.  In the morning he'd go back and check if any supplies had been pushed through for him. Though the thought of the long slow climb back to the cave didn't exactly fill him with glee.

Building a fire turned out to be straightforward - it seemed he had been paying attention to his team when offworld. Though lighting it wasn't as easy as he'd thought it would be, even with the waterproof matches he found in the bottom of one of his vest's pockets, slightly squashed but still usable. Still, he managed to get a reasonable blaze going, and sank down onto the ground beside it. The fire gave a modicum of comfort, but even so he found himself jumping at any slight sound in the forest.

It didn't help that the ground wasn't comfortable. He should probably try to find some leaves and such like for a makeshift mattress, but exhaustion stole over him - though he did think to pull the space blanket out of his pack. He hadn't slept much the night before the mission, or the night before that come to think of it, nightmares disturbing him and pushing him back to the labs to work. He was haunted by Lindstrom's death, the look in the man's eyes... 

It wasn't just Lindstrom though. Gall and Abrams and Grodin - even Ford, though he wasn't dead. Or at least, he hoped not. Now he could add his teammates to his nightmares, the fear that they were dead plaguing in his mind.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and desperately trying to push them out of his mind. Sleep would be good, preferably without dreams, and...oh crap, he hoped nothing tried to eat him during the night.  The thought made him sit up, looking around wildly. He really needed someone to take watch. But what could he do?  He was alone here, no team to watch his back, and he couldn't stay awake for much longer.

He lay back down, and despite his fears, soon fell into an exhausted sleep.

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Morning came and a) he hadn't been mauled by predators and b) the fire he'd lit hadn't burnt down the forest - a worry that hadn't made itself known to him last night, tired as he had been, but which popped up now with a 'thank goodness' feeling attached to it.

"Ow, ow, ow," he groaned, moving slowly as his back protested about having slept on the hard cold ground, followed quickly by various other parts of his body chiming in with their complaints. His left shoulder still hurt, a lot, from the fall onto the cave floor, but he had to get up - his bladder was insistent on that.

As he moved about, taking care of business, filling up his canteen and eating one of the precious MREs, his muscles started to lose their stiffness, though his shoulder was still very painful. He gathered his strength ready to climb back up the valley to the cave in the hopes that supplies might be there. If Sheppard and Teyla were okay, that was, and had thought to throw some through the field before leaving to get help. He hoped they were okay, and during the long walk back to the cave, he alternated between them being safe and well back on Atlantis and gathering supplies and help, and them being withered and dead at the hands of the Wraith.

It was a depressing as well as hard walk. He had to rest frequently, not used to walking uphill for such a long time, and was glad to finally see the tunnel into the cave after several hours of walking. He was even more pleased to find two packs along with two more canteens.

Sitting down, he looked through the packs. Some tools, a couple of space blankets, five PowerBars - one of which he ate having had nothing since breakfast - medical kit, spare clips for his 9mm, a pencil, a notepad, water canteens and various bits and pieces.

"Okay, so if they make it back to Atlantis," he tried to ignore the worry that they might not, "That means no more supplies for several days yet - possibly weeks." Looking at the food he now had, he knew he wouldn't be able to ration it long enough. Which meant another source of food was required - fruit, berries and, oh crap, hunting. Blood and guts was so not his thing, and that's if he even managed to catch something to start with. He was no Grizzly Adams!

His shoulder ached badly and he took two of the Tylenol from the medical kit, washing them down with water. He considered using the morphine, but tempted though he was, he knew it sent him loopy and he really needed a clear head. The Tylenol would have to do.

Standing, he exited the cave and headed back down to the river again. This time he would follow it downstream and see where it led him. It was possible it led out of the dilation field, but he wasn't optimistic about that. It could just as easily run underground - could even be recycled in some way. This place was built by the Ancients, after all. Anything was possible.

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Night was starting to fall as he followed the river downstream.  He'd stopped for another PowerBar, knowing he should still ration them despite the extras he now had - the sooner they were gone, the sooner he needed to do something about catching food - but he was tired from a day spent walking and he decided he need the sustenance so that he had to strength to even consider hunting.

A rustling sound ahead of him caught his attention and he looked up to see a man watching him.

"Crap," he said, stopping and looking at the stranger, who was clad in a mixture of mismatched and dirty clothing, torn and patched, his hair a mess of dreadlocks, dirt on his face and, oh, a gun... though it wasn't pointed at him. The caveman looked feral and was watching him with a mixture of suspicion and... amusement? Or hunger, maybe?

"I'm no threat," he started to babble, backing away slowly and raising his hands instinctively, all the while wishing he'd thought to pull his gun out - though maybe this guy was friendly. He didn't look particularly friendly, and he had no intention of ending up as a Rodney-burger. "Why don't you go your way, and I'll, you know, go another? No need to get nasty or anything. I mean I'm sure there's plenty of room for us both."

Oh crap, the man was moving towards him quickly. Panicking, he turned and ran, only to hear and feel a blast hit him - and then, nothing.

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Rodney awoke with a loud groan. It felt like his head was being beaten from the inside with a large hammer. His shoulder was throbbing fiercely as well - so fiercely he was wondering if the fall had caused damage to the bones, and where was an x-ray machine when you needed one? Figuring that opening his eyes would be a bad, bad idea, he kept them closed - until he realised that his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles had also been tied together and his eyes flew open in panic.  He pulled against the rope restraining him, coming to another realisation - the rope tying his hands had been tethered to something behind him and he appeared to be lying on a primitive bed, and also, ow, pulling on the ropes made his left shoulder start to scream at him. 

He looked around him wildly and saw he was in some form of wooden hut or cabin, with a couple of windows that would have made for a great escape if he wasn't trussed up like a pig. The bed beneath him felt lumpy and smelled musty. He just hoped that there weren't any other occupants, like lice or bugs. And oh crap, why was he down to his t-shirt and pants?

He heard movement and stilled instantly, memories of the caveman returning to him. The man from the forest was kneeling on the other side of the hut, pawing through Rodney's backpack and tac vest. As the man picked up his PC tablet, Rodney couldn't help but say something.

"Hey, be careful with that, it's delicate..." he trailed off at the glare he received, gulping audibly.  The guy was tall and looked capable of breaking every bone in Rodney's body with ease, and he found himself relieved when the guy went back to pawing through his belongings. Though, being the sort of person that he was, he couldn't keep quiet for long.

"Look, I'm no threat to you, so why don't you just let me go? I promise to stay away from you, if you want."

"Quiet," the man growled, actually growled, at him in a rough voice.

"You know, if you don't want to be stuck here, there might be a way for us to leave.  Of course, if you like it here..." he gulped again at the deadly glare.  Maybe the man lived here, maybe there were others here too - a whole community.  He continued, despite the glare - brave, brave man that he was.  Or desperate, more like.  "Maybe I can find the power source for the barrier, you know, the shield that stops people leaving.  I mean, it's got to be around here somewhere. Then it's just a matter of shutting it down, so that I can leave.  And well, if this is your home or you want to stay, then I can show you how to power it back up after I'm gone.  Or you could leave as well, if you want to..."

The man got up and approached Rodney and he shut up, cowering back, suddenly wishing he'd learn to keep his mouth shut. He regretted the movement when a sudden and more urgent feeling made itself known.

"I said quiet," the man ground out, removing his gun, his intention of either stunning him - which he really didn't like the idea of, his head still splitting as it was - or even worse, killing him, very much evident in the man's eyes. 

"Okay...only, I...ah...really need to go.  As in, water the trees.  You know...pee," he rushed out.  "I mean, I could do it here, but I don't think either of us would be happy with that, so..." he stopped as the man re-holstered his gun, and bent down to undo the rope tethering him to the bed and untying his ankles.  He was then pulled unceremoniously to his feet, causing him to groan at the pain, and was pushed outside through the door and down a step.

"Ow, this ground is rough - at least let me put my boots on!" The man mountain merely grunted and carried on pulling him along.  "Look, my feet are going to be scratched and bruised, which means I won't be able to walk..." He shut up abruptly as his arm was roughly shaken - his right one fortunately, if it had been his left one he might just have passed out right there.

They came to a small hut, not far from where Rodney had been held - the function of which was perfectly clear - and the man untied his hands.

"Run, and I will shoot you."

"Okay, okay, no running," Rodney said, rubbing feeling back into his hands and arms carefully, and moving inside to take care of business. Once finished, his hands were re-tied.

"Look, you don't have to tie me up.  I mean I'm hardly a threat to you, am I?  You've got the gun after all, so really, this is unnecessary.  And my left shoulder is killing me."

The man ignored him, turning them back to the hut. Rodney glanced around him as he was manhandled along.  Sheppard had told him that getting the lay of the land when being held prisoner could make all the difference when an opportunity to escape came along. He could see that there were several huts ranged in a rough circle, as well as a raised square pool in the centre of the circle. The hut he was being held in looked in reasonable condition and looked to be close to the trees that surrounded the village. If he could get out of the hut, he had a good chance of making it into the forest without being seen, depending on where his captor was at that moment.

He didn't have time to see any more before they entered the hut and he was pushed back onto the bed - though gently this time he noticed. The tether was retied, as were his ankles. This was bad - really, really bad. He had no idea what this Neanderthal wanted with him.

The man continued to check out Rodney's belongings, coming across the five power bars that Rodney still had left.  He opened one of them, sniffing it carefully, before taking a large bite.

"Hey, that's mine," Rodney couldn't help himself. He was hungry, thirsty and seeing the ape man eat some of his only food was just too much, but at the look he received, he backed down.  "But...uh...okay...you can have it."

A few minutes passed and Rodney somehow managed to keep his mouth shut.  The man stood and left the hut, leaving Rodney to his thoughts, none of which were good. Over half an hour later he smelt... food! Damn it, it smelt like food. His stomach rumbled, and oh, this was so not fair. Not fair at all. He knew there was no hope of rescue any time soon because time was passing far quicker inside the field than outside. Even if it took one or two hours to find a way to retrieve him, that would be weeks for him in here. Shutting down the power source, if he could find it, was his only hope for a quick return to Atlantis and his friends, and that plan wasn't going so well, thanks to Conan out there - who was no doubt having a feast whilst his prisoner starved.

Or maybe the guy was a cannibal. The thought had crossed his mind in the forest and returned now with a vengeance, chilling him to the core.

"Oh please, don't be a cannibal," he muttered to himself. 

He heard an amused sound as Conan - that seemed as good as name as any for the guy - entered the hut with two bowls.

"Not eating you," Conan stated, seeming amused at the idea, before setting the two bowls down on the only table in the hut - one containing water and the other some kind of soup or stew.

"Oh, um, you heard that, then?"  Conan's hearing must be good - which wasn't so good for him, Rodney thought. It would make it even harder to try and get away, as if being tied up wasn't enough of a problem. He eyed the bowls with desperate eyes, but when Conan didn't make a move to offer any food or water, he got angry. "So, what is this, some kind of torture? You know, make the hungry, dying-of-thirst man watch you eat and drink? Do you enjoy that sort of thing?"

"No," Conan said succinctly and approached Rodney, who once more cowered back, wondering if he had said too much this time. Conan grabbed Rodney roughly, causing him to cry out in fear and pain, and then pulled him into a sitting position, untying his hands. "Drink." The bowl was pressed into Rodney's hands and the thought of poison or drugs passed though his mind. But he was so thirsty his need overrode his concerns and he drank greedily. The process was then repeated with the bowl of food, which also disappeared with alacrity.

Once finished, his hands were tied again, though he was allowed to remain sitting up.

"Thanks, I think," Rodney.  "Who are you?"

When Conan didn't answer, Rodney sighed out loud.

"I'm Doctor Rodney McKay, in case you're interested." Rodney wished he had Sheppard's ability to put people at ease and make friends with hostile natives. Not that it always worked, but sometimes it did. Still on the positive side, Conan had stopped shooting him and wasn't threatening to do him harm - yet.

"Doctor as in a healer?"

It took Rodney a moment to realise that he'd actually answered.

"No, no, on my world you can hold a doctorate for many things. I'm a scientist, not a medical doctor. I make things work." Rodney tried to keep it simple for the wild man.

"You might be useful."

"Um, right. So, you're not going to kill me?" Rodney asked, a combination of hope and disbelief in his voice.

"Probably not."

"Okay...that's good, I think." Well, at least it wasn't a yes, he thought. "Do you have a name, by the way? And could you... I don't know... untie me, maybe?"

"Specialist Ronon Dex."

"Specialist?" What kind of specialist, Rodney wondered - specialist of being feral and scary? Certainly not a hair specialist by the looks of it.

"Military title."

"Oh... and the whole untying me thing?" Rodney asked hopefully.

The man smiled, looking even more feral than before, and pulled out a primitive bedroll, placing it on the floor of the hut between Rodney and the door. He then settled down to sleep. Rodney sighed deeply and slid down the bed carefully, trying to find the least uncomfortable position to sleep in, but he couldn't sleep. His hands and arms were aching, his left shoulder complaining bitterly at its treatment, and his ankles and legs weren't very happy either.  He was worried about losing circulation, maybe losing his hands, especially when they went numb.

After several minutes of Rodney's quiet and not so quiet moaning and groaning, along with an almost constant shifting around on the bed trying to find a comfortable position and failing, Ronon growled in frustration and got up. He untied Rodney's hands from behind his back, pushing him down onto the bed and tethering each hand to one side of the bed, ignoring Rodney's insistence that he wouldn't try to escape if he was left untied. At least it was less painful, once the pins and needles had stopped, and eventually Rodney fell into a restless sleep.

Back to Top

Chapter Three: Friend or Foe?

When he awoke again it was morning and he was still tied to the bed. Ronon wasn't around, which was a problem as he really needed to go again.  And now his stomach was rumbling and his pack was just there on the other side of the room with food in it and he couldn't reach it! And his shoulder was really not at all happy, along with various other parts of his anatomy, and he was really, really pissed off at the whole universe right now. Was there some kind of arrow pointing to a sign on his back saying 'kick me'?  Because life seemed to be out to get him, and that really wasn't fair. No wonder he was getting paranoid.

"Hey, you need to untie me before I have an accident," he shouted in the hope that Ronon would hear him. "Come on, you don't want that any more than I do!"

Ronon entered the hut and scowled at him.

"Oh, there you are! I need to go again," he said, annoyed that he had to ask to go to what passed as a toilet around here. It was demeaning in the extreme.

Ronon merely grunted, before untying him and leading him to the primitive excuse for a restroom again. Once Rodney had finished, Ronon grabbed his right arm and led him to an area just to one side of the hut where there was a fire going - and, oh look, an iron ring set into the wall of the hut with a rope tied to it.  He wasn't a bit surprised to find himself seated near to it and his hands tied behind him again - which was damned painful - and tethered to that rope.  He scowled at Ronon as the man went to tend to a pot over the fire. He was totally fed up with being treated this way.

"Don't you think this is getting old real quick?" he snapped, moving so that he could prop himself up against the hut's wall carefully.  "Why are you doing this anyway?  What do you want with me?"

"Your survival skills are bad."

"Well, we can't all be mountain men, can we?" he said defensively.

"You would have died."

"So you decided to, what, stun me and keep me tied up so that I'd live?" he said incredulously.  "You're telling me this is your idea of trying to help me? Because I can tell you now, it sucks, big time."

"You ran."

"From the big scary guy with a gun?  Of course I ran!  I'm not stupid!"

Ronon looked at him, clearly thinking otherwise, and Rodney rested his head back on the wall with a soft thud. 

"If you untie me I won't run, okay?  Just..." he closed his eyes and sighed.  "Look, maybe we can work together here?  You clearly know how to hunt and cook and survive and all that, and I...I'm sure I could do something.  For instance, get us out of here, if that's what you want.  And anyway, I should probably warn you that my friends will be trying to get me out of here and if, no, when they turn up, well, they'll be pissed if you harm me.  I mean really pissed, and they've got big ass guns," he added as a threat.  A rather pathetic sounding threat, he had to admit to himself, and he wasn't surprised that Ronon looked unimpressed by it.

He changed tack.

"Look, my shoulder's really hurting and this isn't helping it any.  I fell on it when I came through the time dilation field, you know, the portal or doorway or whatever you want to call it," he clarified at the guy's blank look, but Ronon just went back to stirring the stew or whatever was in the pot over the fire. Which smelt really good, his stomach was telling him. He sighed in frustration, and tried to ignore the aches and pains and hunger and everything -but it just wasn't possible.

"Did you come through the doorway as well, or is this your home?" he asked, not really expecting a reply.  So far Ronon hadn't said much, hadn't even asked who he was or how he came to be there - which was odd, if the situation was reversed he'd want to know everything he could about his opponent, or whatever Ronon considered him to be.

"Came through the doorway," Ronon replied, continuing to stir the food.

"Oh, right.  So, how long have you been here?"

"About five of this planet's days."

"So, that would be about thirty minutes ago."  At Ronon's blank look, Rodney sighed and explained.  "We're inside a time dilation field.  Time in here is moving more quickly than outside.  An hour for someone out there is about ten and a half days for us inside."

Ronon looked at him peculiarly, and Rodney thought he was going to have to break it down even more for Ronon to understand it.

"Explains it," Ronon said before Rodney had worked out how to dumb it down.

"Explains what?" Rodney asked.

 "Why the Wraith haven't turned up yet."

"The Wraith?  They were after you?" Rodney was surprised and genuinely confused as to why.

"Yes."

"Why?  I mean, why you?"

"I'm a Runner."

"A what?" Rodney said, frustrated at having to metaphorically pull teeth.
 
"Wraith put a tracking device in my back and let me go.  They hunt me and I hunt them back.  Wondered why they hadn't come yet."

"Oh, that... that's horrible," Rodney said, wondering how anyone could survive being hunted like that.  "Though that explains why those darts came to this planet when they did. That's why I ended up in here. The Wraith attacked us and I fell through the barrier while attempting to stop them. I wonder why they hunt people?"

Ronon shrugged. "For fun, to hone their hunting skills?  Who knows how a Wraith thinks?"

"How long..."

Again Ronon shrugged.  "Years."

"Oh."  Rodney wasn't sure how to respond to that, and fell silent, mulling it over. The Wraith might send more darts, which could interfere with rescue and would certainly put people at risk - assuming that Sheppard and Teyla made it back to the jumper and Atlantis, which he was trying very hard to believe that they had. Either way, it was urgent that he tried to find a way out - though without the scanner to find a power source that would mean searching on foot.  Not to mention that the time dilation field occupied a large area, which meant a lot of searching and so, unless they were incredibly lucky - huh, right, like that was likely to happen - then it could take a very long time.

"Food's ready."

Rodney's stomach growled.  Okay, food first and then try to convince the Neanderthal that they needed to look for the power source afterwards.

Ronon untied him much to Rodney's relief and then watched him like a hawk while he ate, which was disconcerting and downright annoying.  Once finished, he resigned himself to being tied up again, but instead Ronon told him to remove his shirt.

"Why?" he asked warily.

"You said your shoulder is hurt."

"It is.  Not that you can do anything to help it, other than stop tying me up."

Ronon just stared at him until he started awkwardly trying to remove the shirt, which wasn't as easy as it sounded with an injured shoulder, with each movement sending a spike of pain through his shoulder.

"A little help here," he snapped, surprised when Ronon helped him remove his shirt and then began probing Rodney's shoulder.

"Ow, stop poking it," he said with a pain filled grimace on his face, using his right hand to try and push Ronon back - which was about as effective as a flea trying to push one of those cats he'd seen in the forest away. He gave it up as a bad cause, groaning and cursing as Ronon continued to poke, prod and manipulate his shoulder. It hurt.

"Not broken."

"You're sure? It feels like the bones are hurt in some way," he snapped peevishly.

"Not dislocated either. Bruised, maybe sprained. It feels more muscular. Your bones are all where they should be. You'll live."

"Oh right, thanks for the sympathy. You could bring me the packs; I have something to dull the pain in one of them."

To his surprise, Ronon went inside the hut - without tying him up first - to get the packs.  Part of him considered the idea of running away, but he knew he wouldn't get far. Ronon was stronger and faster than him, not to mention that with Ronon's level of survival skills he was probably a good tracker as well.  No, he wouldn't get far if he ran, and he needed the stuff in his pack and tac vest if he stood a chance of getting out of this quickly. Also, he realised, he'd have a better chance of surviving with Ronon on his side - and Ronon did appear to be trying to help him, if in some weird and bizarre way - so he waited.

"You don't want to run," Ronon said, suddenly appearing next to him and scaring the life out of him.  "There are predators out there."

"Yeah," Rodney said once he'd regained his breath. "I saw one of them. Seemed more interested in the bird it had killed than me, fortunately."

"Seen them on other planets.  They sometimes form packs, especially when a female has half-grown young.  You don't want to meet a pack on your own. Not if you want to stay in one piece.  Found that out the hard way."

Rodney gulped, thinking about the night he'd spent sleeping in the forest alone.

"Maybe we should stick together, safety in numbers and all that?" he suggested, deciding he was safer with Ronon than a load of predators out in the forest thinking of him as their next dinner.

Or at least, he hoped he was.

Ronon smirked, handing the packs over. Rodney started to paw through Sheppard's pack, looking for the med kit and the Tylenol, while also making sure everything was still there. He came across the morphine and was sorely tempted to take some, but again decided that keeping a clear head was the better option, so took a couple of Tylenol instead. At least it looked like everything was still there - except his gun. He thought about asking where it was, but figured Ronon wouldn't want him armed right now. Hopefully later he could earn Ronon's trust, or find it for himself.

"So why exactly are you helping me, in your strange 'let's tie him up so he doesn't die' sort of way."

"People have died because of me. Can't stay on a world with people - sometimes just being there a few minutes is enough," Ronon answered, clearly unhappy. "The Wraith hadn't come yet and I figured I could work something out if they did, you being only one person to hide. If I didn't help you, you would be dead and it would be my fault. There was a pack of predators tracking you and I decided it was quicker to stun you than persuade you to come with me. You have no sense of self preservation or stealth."

"I have lots of self preservation, thank you very much!"

"So you knew about the pack on your tail?" Ronon said in disbelief, smirking.

"Well, no, but that doesn't mean anything! I've survived more dangers than you could possibly imagine, most of them to do with technology not wild cats!"

"I'm surprised you're still alive."

"So why tie me up?"

"Didn't know you then. Now, I think the only person you're a danger to is yourself, not me."

"Oh," Rodney supposed that made sense. Ronon didn't know if he was a cold blooded killer any more than Rodney had known if Ronon was one or not.

"We need to go hunting," Ronon continued.  "Unless you want to starve."

"Hunt? I don't hunt! Can't you take care of that? Be all He-Man and stuff."

"You need to learn.  It'll be easier with two of us."

Ronon pulled Rodney up with his good arm and indicated they should walk into the forest.

"Wait, wait, if we're going hunting, surely I need my gun?"

"Don't trust you that much."

"But I have to trust you? How is that fair?"

Ronon merely gave him a no-nonsense look, making it clear he considered himself to be in charge here, not Rodney. Which annoyed Rodney intensely, but there wasn't much he could do about it. At least, not right now.

"Fine," he muttered sourly. It was anything but fine with him and Ronon hadn't heard the last of it as far as he was concerned. 

"We also need to look for the power source. If we find that, I can switch off the dilation field so my people can rescue me... us," Rodney paused as a thought occurred to him. "Um, my people could probably remove that tracking device for you - unless you want to stay here."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why would they do that?"

"Um, because it's the decent thing to do?"

Ronon merely looked at him, unconvinced.

"Look, help me find the power source. If you want to stay, I'm sure I could show you how to switch it back on after I've left... that's assuming that the Wraith can't find you in here."

"Hunting first," Ronon replied.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, feeling the lack of his gun as they entered the predator-infested forest and keeping close to Ronon.

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To his surprise, Rodney enjoyed watching Ronon lay traps as it involved physics and engineering, albeit on a primitive level. He was even able to suggest improvements to a couple of them, and was looking forward to trying it himself was his shoulder was better.

After laying several traps, Ronon took him to check on the traps he'd lain the night before. Three of them contained animals - one was vaguely rabbit-like while the others looked more like large rats with oversized teeth. Ronon insisted that they tasted good, but Rodney had his doubts - especially about the rats.

He watched as Ronon took the dead animals down to the river and placed them on a rock.  Using his knife, he slit the stomach to remove the entrails and other inedible parts from the rabbit-thing.  Seeing the blood and guts, Rodney paled and rushed to a bush, gagging. That was gross.  Really, really gross.

"Your turn," Ronon said.

"What?" he turned around, seeing Ronon holding up the rat-things.  "Oh no, no, no, no, I, um, I can't."

"You need to learn."

"Um, no?" He really didn't want to do this.  Really, really, really didn't. "Bad shoulder, remember?"

"Don't want it to stiffen up, and what will you do if something happens to me?"

"How about you teach me tomorrow?" He really didn't want to do this, even though Ronon had a valid point. 

Ronon gave him a look that brooked no argument and he reluctantly agreed.

"Okay, but don't blame me if I puke or pass out from the smell."

The next few minutes were ones he'd rather forget.  The feel of the blood on his hands, the slippery guts, the desperately wanting to puke, the smell - oh crap, the smell! - but he did it.  He removed the inedible parts and even managed to skin the creatures, if badly. Ronon had to tidy that up afterwards.

Washing his hands in the river, he swallowed convulsively, feeling sweaty and pale.  He was not going to pass out.

"You okay?"

"Do I look okay to you?" he snapped.

"You'll get used to it."  With that, Ronon wrapped the skinned animals in a coarse sack and headed back to the village.  Rodney followed on shaky legs.

This survival thing totally sucked. All the more reason to stick with Ronon, so they could share the most horrible jobs - hopefully with Ronon doing more of them than him - and he didn't have to try to do this alone.

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Rodney watched as Ronon prepared the rabbit, along with various greenery and roots, and placed them into a large pot of water that was simmering over the fire. He had been impatient to start searching for the power source, but Ronon had insisted on eating first, and having spent the better part of the day hunting, Rodney had decided it could wait until they had. It would only have been minutes outside, and although he knew the task ahead could take a long time, he was hungry - and not entirely sure that Ronon was on his side about this yet.  His stomach chose that moment to rumble, earning him a smirk from Ronon.

"Stew'll be ready soon," Ronon said. "Then I'll show you how to roast the rats and preserve them for later."

"Um, okay.  Does that mean we can try to find the power source for this place?"

"We need to check the traps I set yesterday."

"Fine, you can check the traps and I'll search this poor excuse of a village."

"We should stick together," Ronon said.

"What, are you worried I'll run? Why should I? It's perfectly clear to me that I'm better off with you than trying to survive on my own out there."

"It's safer for us to stay together. I've seen cats in the village before."

Rodney paled at the thought; he really didn't want to meet a group of the cats. He wasn't that sure he wanted to even meet one of them again.

"Fine, but after we check the traps, we check the village for the power source or clues to its whereabouts."

Ronon didn't answer, instead giving Rodney a bowl of stew.

"Eat up," he said.

"I'm getting out here, with or without your help," Rodney stated angrily at the lack of response, snatching the spoon he was offered out of Ronon's hand and starting to scoop the food into his mouth - surprised at how good it tasted. "I don't understand why you're not making that a priority."

Ronon continued eating in silence, which was extremely annoying - didn't Ronon know how to interact with people normally?

Oh. Perhaps he didn't, having been forced to run for years and remain alone or else risk bringing Wraith down onto people. Huh.

So how did he convince Ronon that leaving was best for both of them? This was really more Teyla's sort of thing, convincing people to do something for their own good or for the good of others. There was no way he could know for certain if the Wraith could track Ronon inside the dilation field or not, or even if they could enter. It was possible that there was some sort of safeguard to keep out Wraith, but it was equally possible that the Ancients had relied on this place being a secret as its sole defence.

Even if Ronon was safe from the Wraith in here, it wouldn't be much of an existence - especially as Rodney was determined not to spend the rest of his life here. Surely Carson would be able to remove the tracker? He wasn't sure if that was enough to get Ronon on his side, though. After all, he'd already suggested it once.

"It will be dark soon," Ronon stated, interrupting Rodney's thoughts.  "Tomorrow, we'll check the traps and deal with anything we catch. Then we look for this power source."

"Oh." Rodney said, genuinely surprised.  "Okay, that sounds like a plan. Why the change of mind?  Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly.

"We'll look," Ronon said.  "Still not sure I can trust you or your friends, but if it will stop you nagging that would be good."

"I don't nag! I'm not an old woman!"

Ronon merely smirked, clearly thinking otherwise.

Rodney narrowed his eyes. Was he being teased? He wasn't sure. It wasn't like he always knew when Sheppard was teasing him, and he'd known him for over a year now, but there was something in Ronon's eyes that suggested he might not be totally serious.

He wished people would just say what they meant.

It was true, though, that there was no reason for Ronon to trust him - or really for him to trust Ronon. At least he wasn't being tied up - well, not at the moment anyway - and they would be looking for the power source. Hopefully, by the time they found it he would have won Ronon round. Or at least have a plan of action if he hadn't. For some reason that he couldn't work out, the thought of leaving Ronon here didn't sit well with him.

The meal was finished in silence, then Ronon took Rodney's bowl and his own to wash in a bucket of water that he had drawn from the village pool earlier. Not exactly sanitary, in Rodney's eyes, but Ronon had been here over five days and was still alive, so maybe they wouldn't be poisoned any time soon. He hoped.

A full stomach, a warm fire and the unaccustomed exercise from hunting all conspired to make Rodney's eyes start to drift shut. Wearily, he kept himself awake long enough to make his way to his bed in the hut and then let sleep claim him. 

Back to Top

Chapter Four: Illness

Rodney slept soundly, waking with a start in the morning due to an earthquake that turned out to be Ronon shaking him.

"Ow, watch the shoulder," he complained, wincing, even though it did feel a little better today.

"Got a lot to do today," Ronon said, a hint of wicked humour in his eyes.

Ronon handed Rodney some fruit to eat for breakfast, which Rodney eyed warily.
"I'm allergic to citrus," he said examining the fruit. He kept the ones he recognised as being okay to eat and returned the rest to Ronon.

Rodney quickly ate the fruit, wanting to be off as soon as possible. It seemed that Ronon had the same idea as he had a bag ready, containing the hunting equipment they would need.

The delay as Ronon checked and reset each trap was frustrating, even if he knew it was necessary. By the end of the circuit, they had caught two rabbits, one rat and a creature similar to a small boar, each of which was gutted and skinned. They returned to the village with them, hanging the dead animals in a hut that had no windows, a lingering smoky smell to it and several butcher's hooks hanging from the ceiling. It didn't take a genius to work out it had been used for smoking meat in the past.

Finally, after a quick meal, they were ready to search the village. Rodney stood in the middle of it, by the pool. Where to start, he wondered.

"You've been here longer than me, any ideas if there's a meeting house or temple, something like that?"

Ronon led him a little way from the circles of huts, to a building on the edge of the forest that was larger than the others. The building was raised up on low wooden stilts, the entrance reached by three steps and flanked by two sturdy looking poles, both carved with symbols. Rodney wished he had Teyla with him, as maybe she would have some knowledge of what the symbols meant. They weren't in the Ancient language, of that he was certain. There was a pink coloured curtain across the entrance, badly faded by the weather and torn in places.

Rodney entered the building tentatively at first, and then finding that he wasn't going to fall through the floors, went in more confidently. Inside there were benches against the wall, and near the top end of the building there was a long table that had seen a lot of wear and tear. Rodney was disappointed that there wasn't anything else - no cupboards or other storage that could have contained hidden technology. Though he supposed Ronon would have found something if there had been, even if he didn't understand what it did.

Just to be sure, though, Rodney checked the floorboards and asked Ronon to check underneath the raised building for trapdoors or hidden compartments. Ronon grunted his displeasure, but looked anyway.

It didn't take long to search, destroying any hope that they would find it easily or in the most obvious of places. Not that he had really expected to - life was rarely that simple.

Sighing, Rodney left the building, cursing the damaged scanner that would make this search so much quicker. He contemplated suggesting to Ronon that he try to fix the scanner, but he was pretty sure that it was a lost cause. It wouldn't stop him from trying, but later. Besides, there were only about ten huts other than this large one, the smoking hut and the latrines, so it wouldn't take that long to search.

Looking round, he noticed that none of the other huts seemed grander or obviously bigger looking than the others and so he couldn't tell which one had belonged to the leader, assuming that they'd had one.

"We'll start there," Rodney said, pointing to the nearest hut, "And make our way round from there."

"I checked the village when I first found it," Ronon said. "There's nothing here."

"Yes, but you weren't looking for hidden technology, were you? It's possible you missed something. And even if there's no technology here, there might be a clue - maybe those symbols, for a start. If we find more of them, I might be able to work out what they mean. I'm not a linguist, but I'm good at ciphers and codes, and language is just a code."

Ronon didn't look happy, but started to walk over to the hut Rodney had pointed to, which was apparently his way of agreeing - or at least, of not disagreeing further.  Rodney took it for what it was and followed Ronon into the hut.

The hut contained a large double bed with a simple woollen blanket over it. To one side stood a small bed presumably designed for a child.  At one end of the bigger bed was a large chest carved with flowers and butterflies, and at the other end was a wooden table big enough for four people to sit round it, along with four simple but sturdy looking chairs with woven seats. There was a shelf with cooking utensils on it, along with dust covered cups and bowls. Another chest was close to the door, as well as a closet with clothes in it - that looked wearable, if not entirely to Rodney's own taste. Still, they would do, as his own clothes were already in desperate need of a wash. He would return later to find some that fitted him - and ask Ronon about how to launder clothing, already guessing that he would have to do it himself and very much not looking forward to it.

"The village, it doesn't seem to have been abandoned for long - a few years rather than decades or longer.  I wonder where the inhabitants went?" Rodney wondered out loud as he searched.

"Don't know."

"Well, of course not! But it might be good to find out. What if they all died?"

"I didn't find any bodies, not even bones," Ronon stated.

"Okay, well, maybe the cats ate them - the remains, I mean?"

Ronon merely shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

"Right, not interested.  Well, let's hope it wasn't some sort of plague that killed them."

"Maybe they left."

"But how?" Rodney fell silent for a moment, thinking.  "Maybe there is a way out of here, we just haven't found it? That would be good, if we could find it.  Though I still think finding the power source would be better. A ZPM would be useful, and there has to be at least one powering this place." Ronon merely grunted. Not deterred by Ronon's lack of interest, Rodney continued musing. "The database called this place a sanctuary, but so far it just seems more like a trap.  I wonder why the Ancients built this place, what it was for?  The Atlantis database wasn't very clear..." 

"Atlantis?" Ronon asked.  "City of the Ancestors?"

"Um, yes." Rodney had searched everywhere in the hut that he could think of and gave one last look round to make sure he hadn't missed any hidden places.

"You live there?" Ronon was looking at him intently, distracting Rodney from his task as he realised what he'd just said.

"We did.  We came from... somewhere else and found Atlantis.  But we had to destroy the city when the Wraith attacked us."

Ronon continued to look at him intently, then smiled. "You're lying."

"What? No, no I'm not," Rodney defended, badly. "Let's search the next hut," he said, trying to change the subject - and failing.

"You're a bad liar, McKay," Ronon said, smirking and following Rodney out of the hut to the next one.

"We did find the city."

"But you didn't destroy it," Ronon asserted as they entered the second hut.

Damn, he knew he was bad at lying, there was a reason why Teyla or Sheppard gave the 'Atlantis was destroyed' line to people and not him.  Sure, he had been able to bluff people on occasions - like Kolya during the storm - but normally, he sucked at it. Maybe because he wasn't in a life or death situation. 

"So, are we searching this hut or just talking?"

Ronon snorted in amusement - or at least, Rodney hoped it was amusement, glad that he had managed to move away from talk of Atlantis this time.

As they searched, Rodney found that all the huts were laid out similarly, with the sleeping area down one end and an eating area at the other end. He knew from past experience with other Pegasus societies that villages could have communal cooking areas, and it certainly looked like that was the case here.

They searched the entire village and then, as evening was approaching, Ronon started to make another stew, asking Rodney to collect wood for the fire pit. And then laughing at Rodney's attempt to building a fire, much to Rodney's irritation. The next half hour Rodney had to endure being instructed in the finer art of fire making.

After food, they retired to the hut they were sharing. Rodney wondered briefly whether to suggest that Ronon use one of the other huts, but suspected Ronon still didn't trust him enough to let him out of his sight.

If Ronon wanted to sleep on the floor, he wasn't stopping him - or offering to do so in his place.

Rodney lay on the bed, grateful not to be tied up any more. For some reason, working with Ronon had felt good and he realised that he was no longer scared of him. Cautious, yes, but he had to admit to a begrudging respect for Ronon's ability to survive, and Rodney believed that Ronon did want to help him - which made a change from having knives, bows and arrows or guns pointed at him.

Besides, while companionship wasn't something he was renown for, the thought of living alone here for weeks didn't appeal. He'd probably go mad with no one to talk to and end up hallucinating someone - or talking to a volleyball. Well, an equivalent. 

Still musing on how things were turning out, he fell asleep.

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Rodney woke up, hoping that it had all been a dream and that he would find himself back in his quarters on Atlantis.

"Nope, still here," he muttered, disappointed but not surprised. If he wanted to get back to Atlantis then he needed to get up. Sighing, he did so and made his way to the latrines before looking for Ronon, who was checking on the animals they had hung up in the ex-smoking hut.

"We need to start moving out from the village and see if there is anything that could be a power source for the time dilation field. Though right now, I'd take just about any technology."

"We'll need provisions," Ronon said. "Best to take enough for a few days and camp overnight. We can cover more ground that way."

Rodney grimaced at the thought of camping, even though he knew it was a good idea.

"Fine. Do we have enough?"

"Yes, but I need to check the traps and make them safe. No point leaving food for other animals to find."

"Okay, fine, you do that. I've got other things to do."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'll be working inside our hut with the door firmly closed, perfectly safe from any cat."

"Okay," Ronon agreed, but he didn't go to check the traps until Rodney had entered the hut and shut the door, even checking it was secure before leaving.

Rodney went to his pack and removed the scanner pieces from one of its pockets, before sitting down on a bench next to a table and tinkering with them. He knew he wouldn't be able to mend it - too many broken crystals - but he found it soothing to concentrate on something familiar. Besides, it was good to use his brain for something more than just basic survival, and there was a part of him - that sounded scarily like Sheppard - that insisted he keep on trying, in case he was able to fix it against all odds.

Of course, thinking of Sheppard brought back his worries about was happening outside the dilation field. Had John and Teyla made it back to the jumper safely? What if more Wraith had arrived? What if Teyla was more seriously hurt than he'd thought? What if they were dried husks or captives and Atlantis didn't know what had happened to them, or him?

Knowing the 'what ifs' would drive him insane, Rodney tried to bury the thoughts - even though he knew they would return time and time again until it was confirmed whether they were safe or not.

A little while later, Ronon returned from checking the traps and came over to see what Rodney was doing, holding a small blood-stained sack. Clearly the traps had caught something, Rodney thought.

"What's that?" Ronon asked, indicating the scanner.

"It's a scanner. Or it was. I don't have the spare parts I need to fix it."

"Then why work on it?"

Rodney shrugged.  "You never know, I might be able to get it to do something, just not what it was designed for. It's kind of soothing anyway."

"You're weird."

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically, though he couldn't help returning Ronon's grin.  There was something about Ronon that he liked, despite the caveman looks and intimidating manner.  "You never said where you were from."

The amusement left Ronon's eyes, a darkness replacing it.

"Sateda," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, as he got up and walked away.  Rodney wondered what he had said to upset him. Unless... had Ronon's world been culled?  Crap, he hadn't thought about how Ronon had ended up as a Runner, but it would make sense that Sateda had suffered a culling.

Sighing, he put the scanner and its parts away and made a mental note not to ask Ronon about his home world again.  Or at least, try not to.

He moved outside and Ronon returned a few moments later with the animals that had been in the ex-smoking hut and started to cut them into hunks. He then made two fires and set up roasting spits over them both.

"You going to help?" Ronon asked, starting intently at Rodney.

"If I must."

"Be quicker if you do."

"Fine," Rodney said, grimacing as he placed animals onto one of the spits to roast. He wished Ronon hadn't asked him to help with the cooking. The last time he had done that - when badgered into it by Sheppard when the team was camping offworld - he'd almost set the camp on fire. Which, of course, had resulted in a lot of teasing from said lieutenant colonel - and even Teyla had been unable to smother a laugh, the traitor! 

Fortunately he didn't set the village on fire, or even burn the meat - though he had to admit to himself this was more to do with Ronon keeping an eye on him and the meat than to any cooking skill - and was soon helping to cut it into smaller portions.

The rest of the day was spent preparing food and gathering together material and blankets that could be used to make a shelter, with Ronon starting to show Rodney how to launder clothing the hard way - though fortunately Rodney managed to get out of the worst of the job due to his still sore shoulder.

Finally, they were ready to set out the next day.

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Morning came all too soon as far as Rodney was concerned, having spent much of the night worrying or waking from nightmares of Sheppard and Teyla being fed on by Wraith.

He was more than ready to start the search.

Ronon and he gathered their supplies - which were heavier than he had expected - and headed about a klick from the village. Rodney thought it was best to circle the village in a spiral pattern to start with, moving outwards steadily. If they didn't find anything in the next few days, then they would have to rethink their plans. He knew if Sheppard was here that the search would be in some sort of grid pattern, but with his luck, if he started in the south the power source would be in the north.

As they searched, Rodney thought he'd found a couple of possibilities, but each time his hope was dashed when he found that actually the rock was a rock or the hidden doorway just a damp hole in an incline.

Ronon seemed happy to follow Rodney, though he noticed Ronon's eyes were constantly scanning the underbrush and trees.

That night, they camped by the river and the following day was much the same. Searching and finding nothing - well, nothing of interest to him. Ronon, on the other hand, had collected some more fruit, which he added to the large bag that seemed to be Ronon's constant companion. He supposed Ronon had to be ready for a quick getaway all the time and that the bag contained his few possessions.

Another depressing night led to another depressing morning, though to his surprise he awoke before Ronon for the first time since they'd met.  Getting up, Rodney's muscles complained about the unaccustomed exercise, and he grimaced. Taking care of the usual morning business, he returned to their shelter to find Ronon awake and sitting on his blanket, his head in his hands.

"What's up?" Rodney asked, concern in his voice.

"Don't feel good," Ronon said, his voice subdued.

"Don't feel good, as in, upset stomach, headache, food poisoning, plague?" The last word came out as a squeak as Rodney thought about the long gone villagers.

Ronon suddenly leaned off to one side, bringing up the contents of his stomach. Rodney had to stop himself from throwing up too, a litany of 'not good, not good' running through his brain.

Once the heaving had subsided, Ronon tried to stand, only to sit back down with a thump.

"Can't stay here," he murmured.

"Why?" snapped Rodney. "You're in no fit state to go anywhere."

"There's a female cat with adolescent kits in the area. I saw signs of them yesterday. I sleep with one eye open, you don't, and if they come prowling, I won't be able to defend you or this place.  Need to get back to the village."

"Oh, right." Rodney had been totally unaware of any cats in the area, but he trusted Ronon's judgement, just like he would have Teyla's in these circumstances. "And how are we going to do that?"

"I can walk," Ronon said stoically. 

"Right," Rodney replied, disbelief evident in his voice.

Even so, Rodney quickly packed up their food supplies. Although he hated the idea of leaving anything behind, he knew he couldn't carry everything - especially as it looked like he would have to support Ronon too - and so concentrated on perishables. There were more blankets back at the village, as well as cooking and eating utensils and clothes.

"Okay, let's go, big guy."

Ronon got up unsteadily and would have fallen had Rodney not pulled Ronon's arm around his shoulder in support. Slowly they started to make their way back to the village, stopping several times so that Ronon could throw up or take a sip of water, and once to remove Ronon's coat. Rodney could feel the heat coming off Ronon and feel Ronon's footsteps becoming more and more unsteady. If Ronon collapsed, Rodney wasn't sure how he would get him back - there was no way he could carry him. Rodney was just finishing the designs for a rough sled when the village came into sight, much to his relief.

Once in the village, Rodney's exhausted body was screaming at him and it was all he could do to manoeuvre Ronon over to the closest hut and lower him onto a bed. He sat down with a sigh and rested for several minutes, watching Ronon's eyes close. Realising that it was all down to him, he wearily dragged himself up and collected water from the village pool. He also grabbed some cloths they had found in one of the huts and assumed to be some form of bandages and returned to Ronon. First, he removed Ronon's top and boots, before dipping the cloths into the water and draping them over Ronon's body.

"We need to get your temperature down," he told him, not sure if Ronon was aware or not, and not really caring. Talking helped him. "If this doesn't work, then we'll have to risk polluting the water source and dump you in the pond."

"River would be cooler," Ronon replied, which told Rodney he wasn't talking to himself after all.

"Right, like I'm going to be able to lug you down to the river. We barely made it back here! My shoulder's still sore, if case you've forgotten, and you weigh too much even if it wasn't! Not that you're fat, it's all muscle I'm sure, but even though..."

"Stronger than you look, McKay," Ronon stated, eyes closed and brow furrowed in pain.

"Thank you, but not that strong.  Now, symptoms. Other than the vomiting and fever, what's wrong? And none of that stoic nonsense, I might have something in my pack to help you. Actually, I have some Tylenol left; that will help with the fever if you can keep it down."

Ronon looked as though he was going to downplay his symptoms, but Rodney gave him his best 'I'm dealing with imbeciles' glare and Ronon sighed.

"Head aches," he admitted.  "Feel dizzy and weak."

"Right, right, so Tylenol would help with some of that. I think I have some antibiotics in the medkit as well. Crap, I hope this isn't a plague, the one that killed the villagers maybe..."

"Wait," Ronon interrupted him.  "I have something in my bag that is good for fevers like this."

"Oh, right.  You know what this is, then?"

"Seen it before on other worlds.  An insect carries it."

"So, not a plague.  Well, that's good, unless the insect is here, of course..." Rodney said, desperately trying to think if he'd been bitten by anything since being here.

"No, I was bitten on the world before this. Didn't know it carried the illness though."

"But you still carry something that helps with it?"

"Safer that way.  Good for many fevers."

"Makes sense," Rodney said, nodding.  "Okay, I'll get your bag."

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When Rodney returned with the bag, Ronon pulled out a pouch containing some cinnamon coloured bark.

"You need to use the pestle and mortar, pound it into a powder."

"Okay," Rodney said, not looking forward to the work this entailed.

"Then boil a large pot of water with the bark in it." Ronon paused.  "You need to collect small pots to put the beverage in.  I only need a cup's worth three times a day."

"Right, right.  I should sterilise things first and get more cloths. You're still burning up."

Rodney spent the next hour preparing and making the beverage, in between returning to Ronon and replacing the damp cloths with cooler ones. To his relief, Ronon's temperature, while still high, began to reduce within a short while of taking the bark drink - which Rodney was very glad he didn't have to drink as it smelled awful - so that Rodney was no longer concerned about Ronon's brain boiling.

Once he had made Ronon as comfortable as he could - even giving up two of his precious Tylenol - he checked their food supplies. They had enough for a couple of days, but if Ronon wasn't better by then, he would have to try his hand at hunting and fishing without any help. Something that he wasn't looking forward to. As it was, he would need to check the traps each day - which reminded him that the traps needed resetting. He'd also have to collect fruits from the overgrown orchard, as well as locate the correct plants - at least Ronon would be able to tell him if he'd collected edible food or not.

Sighing, he decided to reset the traps the following day as his body was still bitterly complaining about the unexpected exercise of the day. Besides, he didn't want to stray too far from Ronon in case the fever started to spike again - or worse. Who knew when they'd be able to get back to looking for the power source? He consoled himself with the fact that not even an hour would have passed outside yet, so hopefully no one had returned to the planet yet and found themselves facing more Wraith.

He spent the remainder of the day, the little that was left of it, setting up a bed in the hut with Ronon. He hoped whatever Ronon had wasn't transmittable, but most illnesses he knew that were spread by insects didn't transmit between humans. It would just be his luck if this was one that did, but he couldn't leave Ronon on his own in case the fever spiked again in the night. The thought of Ronon dying and leaving him on his own was not one he wanted to contemplate. Even with what he had learned so far, he seriously doubted he could survive here for long. Ronon had to recover, and that meant Rodney staying close by.

Besides, he felt a modicum of security with Ronon nearby - or rather, Ronon's gun.

Ronon declined food, so Rodney ate cold meat and fruit. Before settling down for the night, Rodney changed the warm cloths on Ronon with cool ones and gave him another drink of the foul-smelling bark beverage. After drinking it, Ronon seemed to settle down and was soon asleep, making Rodney wonder if it had some kind of relaxant effect too.

He set the alarm on his watch for one hour and got into bed. It was going to be a long night, he thought to himself.

Back to Top

Chapter Five: Still Not Grizzly Adams - But Closer

When Rodney woke, the first thing he did was check on Ronon. He was glad to see that Ronon's colour was a little better, but not so happy that Ronon was still very hot to the touch. He used more wet cloths to try to cool Ronon down and also gave him some more of the bark potion.  He also persuaded him to drink some water, but Ronon drew the line at trying to eat anything.

"I need to lay the traps.  Will you be alright here?" Rodney asked worriedly, even knowing that he had no alternative - apart from starvation.

"I should come with you," Ronon said, trying to get up only to be pushed back down by Rodney, far too easily.

"You're not going anywhere.  I remember where to lay the traps." I hope, he added silently in his head.

Worried that Ronon didn't try to get up again or argue further, Rodney left the hut and went to gather the hunting traps from where they had left them.  He also picked up some of the fruit and cooked meat, wishing that he had a nice large loaf of bread to go with it - or even a burger would be good right now. But he knew he would have to put up with what could be hunted or picked.  Didn't mean he had to enjoy it, but at least it was food.

Rodney took the path out of the village and then followed the river, setting up various net and basket traps in the river as he went. He also laid a couple of noose traps, though he doubted it would fool any of the bigger animals. 

As he went, he nibbled on his supplies. He was so intent on making sure that all the traps were laid correctly, that he hadn't realised that the sun was no longer overhead and that it was mid afternoon.  He felt guilty because he had meant to check on Ronon about noon, but at least he could go back to the village now knowing that he wouldn't have to come back out.

When he got back to the village, he was surprised to see Ronon by the pool, looking pale.

"Where have you been?" growled Ronon. "You've been gone a long time."

Rodney didn't know whether to be indignant that Ronon had been worried that he'd gotten into trouble or gratified that Ronon had been concerned about him in the first place.

"Next time you go out alone, you take your gun."

"If you tell me where you've hidden it."

"Somewhere safe. Be easier if you take my gun than I try to tell you where your gun is hidden," Ronon said, looking extremely unhappy.

Rodney knew how possessive Ronon was of his gun, so was surprised but grateful for the offer. He would prefer to know where his own gun was, but hopefully Ronon would trust him enough to give it back to him soon. He nodded his thanks and got on with preparing Ronon's next dose of the bark drink instead.

"Ronon?"

Ronon looked at him, query in his face.

"You need to get some broth or soup in you, or at least that's what my mother used to do when I was ill. You don't happen to know how to make it do you?"

Ronon laughed. It was a warm reverberating kind of laugh, that had Rodney grinning with along with him, despite the situation.

"Help me over to the fire pit and light the fire."

Rodney followed Ronon's instructions and soon the soup was underway. While it was cooking, they fell into a companionable silence, until it was broken by Ronon.

"You asked about Sateda.  It was culled."

"Yeah, I sort of figured that out later," Rodney said apologetically.

"Don't know how many survived."

"Well, when we get out of here and the tracker's been removed, you can go home."

Ronon nodded, his eyes drifting shut. Rodney hoped this meant he was falling asleep, as he figured that was what Ronon's body needed most - rest.

"We had technology," Ronon added, eyes still closed.  "We fought back."

Rodney grimaced, knowing that the Wraith destroyed people who fought back or dared to have anything technological.  The Hoffans had hidden their libraries, knowing that the Wraith would destroy their cities when they came - and now, the planet lay in ruins.  The drug hadn't saved them, just assured their destruction at the hands of the Wraith.  The Genii had hidden their technology too so that they didn't suffer a similar fate.  A part of him feared that there would be nothing and no one left on Ronon's homeworld - and that was a pain he couldn't contemplate having to suffer himself.  It was a pain Ronon didn't deserve.

He kept his fears to himself, though.  Maybe he should prepare Ronon for the possibility, but somehow he suspected Ronon already knew it.

"So, technology," he said finally.  "How advanced were you, compared to other worlds in this galaxy?"

"This galaxy?" Ronon queried.  "You say that like you know other galaxies."

"Um, well..." Rodney paused.  He didn't know this guy all that well, but there was something about him that suggested he could be trusted.  After all, Ronon had been helping him to survive inside here and he could have left him to his own devices. He owed Ronon his life - besides, it wasn't like Sheppard didn't mention they weren't from Pegasus to potential allies when it suited him. "We're from another galaxy, one without Wraith."

"You should go back there."

"Yeah, apparently Teyla told Sheppard that when they first met.  Teyla's from Athos."

"I've heard of Athos."

"Right, well, when we first came here we couldn't go home, and now, well, we're too invested in... things."

"Atlantis."

"Um."

Ronon opened his eyes and looked at Rodney, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay, yes, like Atlantis," Rodney admitted with a sigh. 

Ronon's smile grew at his admission, before closing his eyes again.

"We had radio," he told Rodney.  "Guns, hospitals, motorised transport and machinery."

"So, reasonably advanced.  Certainly compared to most planets here."

"Yeah."

"You don't seem, well, technologically minded."

"I was military," Ronon said.  "I left science to others."

"And I leave military stuff to others. Well, I used to, then I came to this galaxy and joined an offworld team."

"Soup should be ready," Ronon stated, looking at the pot Rodney had been stirring during their conversation.

"Oh, right," Rodney replied, getting two bowls and ladling out a portion each.  They ate in silence, savouring the soup - which Rodney had to admit was very good, even if it wasn't the burger he was craving.  After finishing the soup, Ronon yawned.

"You should go to bed," Rodney said.  "You're still not well."

Ronon nodded, getting up shakily and moved slowly, walking back to his hut, making it clear he didn't want any assistance when Rodney stood to help him.  Shaking his head at Ronon's stubbornness, Rodney cleaned the bowls and collected fruit from the orchard, before retiring to the bed he had placed in Ronon's hut. He took out a pencil and pad from his pack and did some calculations, trying to work out how the time dilation field worked, using mathematical formula. Eventually, the light faded so that he could no longer see what he was doing and he didn't want to light any candles. 

Putting the pad to one side, he lay down and drifted off to sleep.

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The next day, Rodney was upset to discover that Ronon's temperature was high again. He knew the idiot shouldn't have gotten up the day before and he felt guilty, knowing that Ronon had only done so because he had gotten carried away with the hunting.

He managed to get more of the bark drink into Ronon, but knew he would have to check the traps.  He hated the idea of leaving Ronon like this, but they needed more than just fruit and berries to survive on and who knew how long Ronon would be ill for?

Making sure to take Ronon's gun with him, he left, hoping he was doing the right thing and that Ronon would be fine. It was one of the hardest things he'd had to do: the need for food versus looking after the one person who could help him survive this place.

In fact, he was back at the village within a couple of hours, feeling annoyed and frustrated. Not one of the traps had yielded anything - not even a rat.

Ronon was sleeping, though his temperature was still too high for Rodney's liking.  He used the cooling cloths again, as well as the bark drink.

Damn. He hated playing nursemaid almost as much as he hated having to skin animals like some Neanderthal caveman! But with the meat in the hut almost gone, they needed fresh meat - which meant he would have to go out there and use Ronon's gun to hunt bigger prey.  Something he didn't think he'd excel at.

But it had to be done. Ronon needed more than just fruit and berries if he was going to get better, and Rodney really needed Ronon to get better and take over the hunting again.

He left, heading towards a clearing that Ronon had shown him, saying it would be a good place to wait for the deer-like creatures that lived here.  Apparently there were signs of frequent use by them, though Rodney hadn't been able to see anything even when Ronon had tried to point it out to him.

He hoped he wouldn't have to wait long once he got there.

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Two hours of utter boredom later, Rodney had nothing to show for his trouble. Worried about leaving Ronon for too long, and also being totally fed up with this sitting and waiting game, he decided to head back to the village and recheck the traps on his way.  Maybe this time they had caught something, because he had completely failed at hunting - just like he thought he would.

As he reached the first trap, he heard a noise and something that looked like a wild boar came charging towards him.  Startled, he didn't have time to think as he aimed the gun in the boar's general direction, his hand shaking slightly.

The shot hit it square on and it fell, skidding to a halt a few feet from Rodney.

I've shot a boar, I've shot a boar, repeated itself in Rodney's head, euphoric at his accomplishment - and then it twitched.  Rodney paused and looked at the gun.  Crap, it was still on stun.  How did he change it to kill? Surely with his superior brain power, finding kill should be easy! But then a thought occurred to him - just how powerful was Ronon's gun? Would it be like his own gun, with a neat bullet hole, or would it blast a large hole in it? Not knowing, he sighed and decided he would have to kill it another way. He picked up a large rock, raising it above his head and wincing as his shoulder protested, before dropping it on the creature's head.  The sound of bone cracking and its last squeal almost had him running off into the trees to throw up, but somehow he managed not to.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes, not realising that he had closed them. Even in death, the creature seemed to be mocking him for not doing a good job. Shaking, Rodney took out his knife and slit down the creature's neck and stomach.  As the entrails flopped out, he couldn't take it anymore and this time really did have to turn away and spend the next few minutes throwing up.

Bracing himself and reminding himself that he had to do this, he needed to do this to survive, he returned to the boar. Trying not to inhale its smell, he cleaned the creature as Ronon had shown him, but he couldn't face skinning it. He would do that once he was back in the village.

After several attempts, Rodney picked it up and slung it around his shoulders. It felt heavy and unwieldy, and he could already feel his jacket becoming damp from the blood dripping down his back. It took a large effort on his part not to throw up again or leave it in the forest in disgust.

Muttering darkly to himself about his luck - or lack of it more precisely - he trudged back to the village with the boar growing heavier and heavier with each step, and his clothes getting wetter and stickier too. He'd be very glad when Ronon was well enough to hunt instead.

After what felt like hours, he finally saw the edge of the village and sighed in relief that his ordeal was nearly over - at least for now. He was desperately trying not to think about skinning and cutting the boar up.

He dumped the carcass in a storage hut, ensuring it was secure against anything trying to steal it, and then went and washed, making sure to change his blood soaked clothes as well. 

It was a long time before he considered himself clean.

Once finished, he checked on Ronon, whose temperature was still high. He managed to coax some more of the bark tea into Ronon, together with some water.  He wished there was more he could do to help other than just keep Ronon from dehydrating.

He spent the rest of the afternoon skinning, cutting and cooking - well burning, if he was honest - the boar.  But at least some of it was edible. He tried making a soup - it didn't taste brilliant and he decided that next time he should leave the fruit out. It was also thin and watery, but he managed to get some of it into Ronon. Hopefully Ronon would get some goodness out of, despite its bad taste.

The next day, Rodney just collected some fruit and continued watching over the big guy. Ronon's temperature seemed to soar and it was all Rodney could do to try and cool him down. Towards the evening, though, and much to Rodney's relief, the fever broke and Ronon's temperature, though hot, didn't have the same intensity as before. He hoped that this time it would last.

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The following day, Rodney woke to find two eyes looking at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Feel like I've gone ten rounds with a Boarak."

"Boarak?"

"Big animal, with claws and fur. Taller than a man when standing upright, which is how they attack."

"Oh. Right."

Rodney helped Ronon sit up and got him some soup. Ronon grimaced at its taste and put it to one side. Rodney knew the soup was bad, but he hadn't thought it was that bad.

"Want me to get some of those dried spices you found last time we were here?" Rodney asked, trying to think of anything that might make the soup more edible.

"Tasted worse," Ronon tried to reassure him, picking up the bowl and telling him about the sort of food he'd had to eat, and some of his encounters with the Wraith. The more he told, the more respect Rodney had for the man and the fact that he'd survived so long.

Once Ronon had finished his soup, he made himself comfortable once more in his bed and yawned.

"You need to rest," Rodney told him, picking up the bowls to clean them.  At the door he stopped and looked behind him, but what he was about to say died on his lips - Ronon was already asleep.

Rodney cleaned the bowls, then settled himself down with the Ancient scanner, to see if he could perform a miracle and fix it.

He couldn't.

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Ronon wasn't a good patient, not resting and spending his days either fishing or cooking. Rodney was pleased to have edible food again that wasn't burnt, but concerned that Ronon might be overdoing things - he certainly tired easily. However, over the next few days, Ronon started to get his stamina back up and was soon going with Rodney to check the nearby traps and to hunt bigger prey.

Rodney was pleased at Ronon's progress as the thought of finding the power source filled his brain more and more, wanting to get back to Atlantis.  He thought occasionally about trying by himself, until he heard a wild animal in the distance. So he waited until Ronon was stronger.

Much to Rodney's surprise, it was actually Ronon who suggested they go back out searching. Perhaps Ronon wasn't used to being in one place for a long period of time, after his time as a runner. Or maybe he wanted to get out of here too.

Over the last few days, they'd actually caught enough to last them about four days, Rodney calculated, and Ronon could easily supplement their food if needed. They started out, intending to move further out from the village and being gone for a few days.


As they searched, Rodney and Ronon found a mutual respect, a friendship even, beginning to grow. Rodney occasionally wondered how he'd felt so intimidated by the big man, forgetting the number of times his talking had annoyed Ronon and he'd been growled at.

They soon fell into a pattern.  Ronon would set up camp and Rodney would take it down while Ronon collected fruit or caught the odd animal from an overnight trap, therefore nullifying the need to return to the village and enabling them to extend their search area.

Occasionally, Rodney and Ronon would go and check to see if his team-mates had sent anything through the portal. Rodney was rarely in a good mood when they came back empty handed. Eventually, they did find four packs plus a large container of water.  Rodney eagerly searched through the pack, wishing there was more, but knowing these must have come from the jumper - there hadn't been time for his team to return to Atlantis for supplies yet. Still, he'd have thought the jumpers were better stocked than this!

Ronon ignored his continued grumbling as they went back to their nearby camp.

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Towards the end of the sixth week, Rodney and Ronon returned to the village as Rodney wanted at least one night in a decent bed. Well, more decent than sleeping on the forest floor, anyway. Plus, Ronon had finally relented and had agreed to let Rodney have his gun back - though Ronon had gone to set up a few traps first, telling Rodney to stay behind. Rodney suspected he would return with the gun, having presumably hidden it out in the forest somewhere and not wanting him to know where.

Back in the village, he started cooking the fish they had caught on their way back. It had taken him some time, but now he was able to make a reasonably decent fish stew - even if he did say so himself.

The stew was almost ready when he sensed movement. Assuming it was Ronon returning, he looked up, a comment already on his lips about Ronon not being as stealthy as normal, when he froze. Slinking towards the fire was one of the forest cats, a badly malnourished one.  Its nose twitching, the smell of the food and its desperate condition had obviously overcome its natural aversion to entering the village.

It crossed his mind briefly that he should retreat and let the cat eat the stew, but in a moment of madness, he ran at the cat, yelling at it in an attempt to scare it off. He failed to notice the enlarged teats that marked it as a mother cat with young to feed.

The cat bared its teeth, yowling and running towards Rodney, closing the gap quickly with its claws out.

As Rodney realised his mistake in trying to scare the cat off, he turned and ran, hoping to reach the safety of the hut and all the while yelling for Ronon. He was only halfway there when he felt claws rake the back of his leg, causing him to stumble and fall forwards.  The cat took advantage of its fallen prey and aimed its teeth at Rodney's neck, clawing at his back.

As Rodney's world exploded into pain, he was vaguely aware of the sound of Ronon's gun.  He felt the stun effect over his back, a brief moment of added pain followed by a welcome numbness - if only his leg also felt numb! 

From his peripheral vision, he could see Ronon's legs appear beside him and shortly after that, the cat was removed from his back and quickly dispatched with a sharp blade.

"Don't get up," Ronon said gruffly.

"I don't intend to," Rodney assured him, his voice filled with pain. "How bad is it? Am I dying? I'm dying, aren't I? Even if the wounds don't kill me, the infection will! Oh crap, my leg hurts! Can't you stun it as well as my back?"

"Your back's scratched, though they don't look deep.  Not down to the bone."

"Not down to the bone? That's your definition of 'not deep'?" Rodney's voice rose even higher. "Oh no, what if I'm paralysed? I'm no use to anyone like that! Well, I'd still have my brains, but they'll send me back to Earth..."

"You're not paralysed. I told you, not that deep. Not deep at all. Good thing you were wearing your heavy jacket; it protected you."

"You're sure? And what about my leg? It feels like it's severed..."

"Not severed. Looks like one of the wounds is deep."

"Like down to the bone deep?"

"Maybe, not sure."

"Oh crap, oh crap, please... just stun me..." Rodney said, desperate for some relief from the pain, not caring if he sounded pathetic or not.

"Gonna get your med kit."

"Yes, yes, that's a good idea. Morphine! Oh, I'm so glad I didn't use it for my shoulder when I first got here!"

Ronon returned with the med kit and Rodney instructed him on what was morphine and how to give him the field dose. He only had another two doses after that and then he'd be down to Tylenol. Not something he was looking forward to.

"Need to move you." Ronon told him. "Have to clean up your back and leg."

Ronon gently helped Rodney to his feet. Rodney hissed in pain at the movement and together they made their way to the hut - Ronon taking most of Rodney's weight.  He was very grateful when he was able to lie down on his front. The bed was far better than the hard ground.

It didn't take long for Ronon to clean the wounds - using the antiseptic wipes from Rodney's pack -  and wrap Rodney's leg in bandages. Rodney was exhausted by the end of the process, his back and leg aching fiercely despite the morphine, even though Ronon had tried to be gentle.

He fell into a restless sleep full of weird creatures, pink horses - and whales.

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Rodney wasn't sure how long he had slept. In fact, he was surprised that he had fallen asleep in the first place, the pain being so bad. Moaning, he was aware of Ronon's presence in the hut, and a pair of crutches appeared on the bed next to him. The fresh knife cuts meant that Ronon must have made them, which meant that he'd been asleep for hours.

"You expect me to use those?" he asked irritably, though secretly he was touched that Ronon had gone to such trouble for him.

"You need to move around or you'll stiffen up."

"No, I need to not move unless I really have to, as moving hurts," he retorted. "And by hurt, I don't mean a teeny tiny scratch hurt. I mean a huge, big, bone deep wound hurt!"

"It will hurt more if you don't."

Rodney glared, but Ronon merely stared back until Rodney looked away.

"I'll need another shot," Rodney said, only to see that Ronon was already preparing the morphine.

"Only one more left," Ronon said.

"Yes, I know, but let's handle that when we get there. Gimme."

After the morphine had time to take the edge off - he so wished that the field doses were stronger - Rodney gritted his teeth and tried to sit up, knowing there was no arguing with Ronon.

Using the crutches hurt his back, but that pain faded into insignificance when compared to the fire burning in his leg. But he knew Ronon was right, it would be worse if he stiffened up - plus he needed to use the facilities.

Once done, he slowly made his way back to the hut, where Ronon insisted on looking at his wounds again.

Life sucked.  And if his team didn't find him soon, he'd be dead, he just knew it. They didn't have any antibiotics left after Ronon's illness, just a few antiseptic wipes. He was sure he could feel the infection setting in as every minute passed.

Back to Top

Chapter Six: Found

The following morning, Rodney had moved outside the hut at Ronon's insistence - ending up on a bed close to the village pool - and was trying to distract himself from the pain by trying to fix the scanner for seemingly the hundredth time.

Ronon suddenly stood, listening intently.

"What? What is it?" Rodney asked, having learned to rely on Ronon's exceptional hearing.

"Voices," Ronon replied gruffly, before taking off.

"Wait," Rodney shouted after him, "It could be my people. Damn him," he muttered, struggling to his feet with the help of the crutches. "Ow, damn it, that hurts," he cursed, wincing and moaning in pain, but he needed to make sure Ronon didn't do something stupid and get himself hurt - or hurt one of his team.

Why couldn't Ronon have waited? It had to be his team. Who else could it be?  Well, unless it was the Wraith - Rodney paled at that thought. Muttering sourly to himself, he finally made it to the edge of the village where the sound of voices reached him.

"We mean no harm."

Teyla.  That was Teyla.  He hurried his steps as best he could, passing the last hut and rounding the corner to see Ronon standing with his gun pointed at Teyla, Sheppard, Radek, Carson and... Elizabeth? What was she doing here?

"We're just trying to find a friend," Elizabeth said calmly.  "We'll be happy to leave once we have found him, if that is what you want."

"Stop pointing your gun at my friends," he snapped peevishly as he stepped into view.

"Stop walking on that leg," Ronon growled back, glaring at him, though he didn't lower his gun.

"You told me I needed to move or I'd stiffen up!"

"Not this much movement."

"Rodney," Elizabeth exclaimed, cutting in on their conversation.  "It's good to see you. The beard is... new."

"Hi. Yes, well, I wasn't going to risk slitting my throat while shaving with a knife!"

"Would have done it for you," Ronon said.

"No way! I'm not letting anyone that close to me with a knife if I can help it!" Rodney said indignantly, before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. "I assume you have a way out of here."

"Of course," Radek replied, looking at him worriedly - which made Rodney wonder just how bad he looked.  Probably as bad as he felt, which was terrible.

"What have you done to yourself, lad?" Carson asked, casting Ronon a nervous glance as he carefully skirted around him to Rodney's side, while pulling the medical kit off his back.

"Carson, thank goodness you're here. One of the local cats mauled me. Who knows what bacteria or diseases it was carrying! I doubt the antiseptic wipes from the medical kit are up to the job - I could be getting gangrene as we talk!"

"A cat?" Sheppard asked, a glint of amusement in his voice.

"A big cat," Rodney snapped at him, awkwardly indicating something two metres long.

"Not that big," Ronon corrected him, finally holstering his gun and holding his hands about a metre wide.

"Whatever. Size doesn't matter when you're unarmed!"

"Shouldn't have run at it unarmed." Ronon shrugged at Rodney's glare.

"Well, highly entertaining as this is, I need to look at that leg," Carson interrupted. "Is there somewhere you can lay down?"

"Back in the village, maybe?" Rodney said sarcastically, pointing behind him.

"Aye, that'd do."

Rodney turned to limp back into the village but Ronon clearly had other ideas - lifting him off his feet and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Put me down," Rodney squawked in embarrassment, feeling humiliated in front of his friends.  "I'm perfectly capable of walking!"

"I think I like this guy." Rodney heard Sheppard say behind him.

"He certainly has style," Elizabeth agreed even while sounding concerned.

"Perhaps we take him home," Radek suggested. "Be good to have person who can handle Rodney."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Rodney snapped.

"Yep," Sheppard replied laconically.

Damn them, he thought. Though it was sort of nice, too. He missed the gentle teasing and banter of his colleagues - his friends. Not that he would ever tell them that.

Ronon placed him gently on to the bed set by the pool.

"Do you know where the power source for the field is?" Rodney asked, trying to regain his shattered dignity by taking control of the situation. 

"We would not be here if we did not know how to leave," Radek retorted. "I used a probe to find location of power source inside dilation field.  Now that we know you are okay, Teyla and I will go to it and begin the power down sequence."

"You can't!" Rodney exclaimed. "Ronon has a tracking device in his neck; he's a Runner."

"I have heard of Runners, but I thought they were myths," Teyla said, looking at Ronon with compassion.

"Runners?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, the Wraith hunt them, though I do not know why."

"Does it matter why?" Rodney asked irritably.  "Look, I can block the signal if you give me a working scanner - mine is toast."

"I need to look at that leg," Carson said, kneeling next to Rodney.

"Yes, yes, I want you to look at it, but let me block the signal first!"

"There's no rush, McKay," Sheppard said.  "Not like time is moving fast outside."

"Radek and Teyla can be making their way to the power source while Carson checks you over," Elizabeth suggested.

"Yes, it will take us some time to get there," Radek added.  "The colonel has a scanner you can use. We will let you know once we are there and ready to disengage ZPM, if that is what is powering the field as we suspect."

"Fine," Rodney agreed reluctantly, not looking forward to Carson's ministrations.

Teyla and Radek left, and Ronon watched closely as Carson prepared a syringe.

"Let's give you something to take the edge off before I start poking around," Carson said, giving Rodney an injection. "It shouldn't make you drowsy so you can still block the tracker signal.  Now, let's look at that leg."

Rodney gritted his teeth, before cursing softly as Carson unwrapped the bandages and started prodding and cleaning the wound.

"It's deep," Carson said.  "Looks like there might be tendon damage, as well as an infection starting.  I need to get you back home."

"Tendon damage? Oh crap, that's bad, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily," Carson reassured him.  "There's a good chance of a full recovery, so long as we get you back as soon as possible - and you do as you're told."

"I always do as I'm told when my health is at stake."

"Aye, usually."

Carson finished checking the wound and wrapped it in new, clean bandages.

"He's got some scratches on his back," Ronon said.

"Right, let's take a look at them too."

Rodney grimaced as Carson removed his jacket and checked them out.

"Okay, not too bad. I'll need to keep an eye on them in case of infection, but they should heal fine otherwise."

"Can I get on with blocking the signal now?" Rodney asked petulantly.

"Aye."

Rodney worked on the scanner for several minutes, aware of a low conversation occurring between Carson, Elizabeth and Sheppard, but not able to hear what was being said.  He suspected they were discussing his return to Atlantis, which wouldn't be happening until he had finished what he was doing.

"Ah ha, got it!" Rodney crowed.  "The signal's jammed. Are Radek and Teyla ready yet?"

"They're still a few minutes out," Sheppard replied.

"Oh. Okay. Are we walking out of here or is there a jumper waiting to collect us? Oh, and what about the Wraith? They were hunting Ronon, that's why they were here. Probably wanted to know why the signal had stopped."

"We have three jumpers, all cloaked. A dart came through while we were on our way here, but Lorne took it out - hopefully before it could signal anywhere.  He's waiting to pick us up as soon as the dilation field is down," Sheppard explained.  "I'll contact Sergeant Gibson in the second jumper to pick up Radek and Teyla - they'll move to clear ground if the power source is under cover."

"They probably won't send another dart right away," Elizabeth said. "And it'll have been minutes at most for people outside the field."

"So we should be fine." Rodney nodded.  "It shouldn't be too long before we're back on Atlantis."

"Rodney," Sheppard gave him a pointed look and then glanced at Ronon.

"Ronon figured out I was lying, so what was the point in continuing to do so?" Rodney defended himself.  "There's a reason I leave the whole 'Atlantis was destroyed' speech to others. Besides, Ronon's okay. You can trust him."

"You're sure?" Sheppard asked dubiously.

"Yes, as sure as I can be. Look, he could have left me to fend for myself, could have killed me if he'd wanted to, but he didn't.  I wouldn't have survived this long without his help.  And believe me, he hates the Wraith - more than any of us!"

"They culled my world," Ronon stated flatly. "Then made me a Runner, hunted me. I hunted them back."

"He should come back with us.  Carson can remove the tracking device and then he'll be free to do what he wishes.  If he wants to stay, then I vote that he's allowed to. Believe me, he'd be an asset. He's spent years hunting the Wraith that hunt him - it's impressive that he's survived that long."

Elizabeth halted Rodney's words.  "He can come back, as long as you're absolutely certain that scanner is blocking the signal."

Rodney could tell that she wasn't happy about having a stranger come back to Atlantis by the look on her face, but was glad she was willing to allow it.

"It is," he said confidently.

"Fine.  Carson, can you see if you can remove the tracker?"

"Aye, if I can, I will.  That's no life for a person. And with the equipment on Atlantis, I'll be able to see if it's near anything vital and make a better judgment on best how to remove it."

With that decided, they waited for Radek and Teyla to reach the power source. Ronon spent the time collecting their belongings with Sheppard's help.  Rodney could see them talking and wondered what they were talking about.

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Radek radioed when he was in place and Rodney made sure Ronon was close to the jammer. It actually had a range of several metres, but Rodney wasn't about to take any chances.

The sky shimmered and turned black, followed by a noise like thunder as the field collapsed, wind whipping at them as the elements within the dome adjusted to that outside. 

Shortly after the tempest had settled, a jumper decloaked in a nearby clearing. Ronon picked Rodney up, despite his protests, and followed the others onboard, setting Rodney carefully down on the floor. Rodney found himself drifting, not sure if it was the relief of finally going home or if Carson had sneaked another injection of something into him, and not really caring.

The cold of a wormhole flashed over him, and then the jumper was landing in the jumper bay on Atlantis.

A stretcher was waiting for Rodney, who was once again manhandled onto it by Ronon - though this time he couldn't find the energy to complain. He was fairly certain Carson had slipped him something. A thought entered his slightly befuddled mind.

"Sheppard, you need the scanner. Keep close to Ronon," he said, aware of a hand taking the scanner from him.

"Aye, Colonel, you'll need to come with us. Doctor Shareen is going to find out where the tracker device is while I amputate Rodney's leg."

"What?" Rodney squawked, suddenly more alert before realising that Carson was joking. "Ha, ha, very funny. Mock me, why don't you?"

"Good to have you home." Elizabeth smiled. "Keep me apprised, Carson," she said, taking the stairs that led her up to the control room and her office.

Carson, Ronon and Sheppard followed Rodney down to the infirmary. Once there, Rodney watched Sheppard and Ronon being led away by one of the nurses and then gave his attention to Carson, who was talking to him.

"I'm going to repair the tendons in your leg and tidy up the damaged tissue," Carson said, injecting something into his arm.  "Now, count slowly backwards from ten."

"Ten, nine, eight..." That was as far as he got before he slipped away.

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Slowly the world came back into focus, though Rodney's head still felt woolly and his mouth was dry. Looking to his left he saw Sheppard slouching in the chair to him, feet resting annoyingly on his bed.

"Shouldn't you be with Ronon?"

Sheppard pointed to Rodney's right. "He's over there.  Carson's keeping him sedated for a while because the tracker was close to his spine and he doesn't want him doing himself any damage."

"The tracker?"

"Radek's got it.  He's deactivated it, but wanted to study it."

"Hmm, I think I'd be more suited to checking it out..."

"Sure, but you're going to be laid up here for a while. I'll ask Radek to drop by when you're feeling more awake."

"Fine." Rodney scowled at the thought of Radek getting a look at the tracker before him. "What's going to happen to Ronon? I didn't tell him, but I have a feeling that Sateda - that's his homeworld - might not have survived the culling. They fought back and they had a level of technology I can't see the Wraith allowing to survive."

"When Ronon's up to it, we'll dial Sateda and see if there's anyone there. If not, well, there are places he could go."

"What if he wants to stay? We should give him that choice, I'm sure he must know more about the Wraith and hunting them than we do..."

"I think we can convince Elizabeth to risk it, between us. I talked to him in the village, while collecting your stuff together. Seems okay to me, if a little rough round the edges."

"You'd be a little rough round the edges if you'd had to live like that for years."

"I know.  Besides, not like he's the only person here who has that problem - though what your excuse is I don't know!"

"Oh very funny."

"I thought so," Sheppard said, grinning and getting up. "Get some sleep, Rodney."

Rodney huffed, watching Sheppard leave, and then looked over to Ronon's bed.  He looked kind of... vulnerable in his sleep. Young too.

He couldn't explain it, but he felt like they were, maybe, friends? He didn't have many people he thought of as friends, and he found himself hoping that Ronon would hang around.

Still tired from the effects of the anaesthetic, Rodney closed his eyes and dreamed of a village populated by Wookies. 

The End


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