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chase_acow
Some of you might have guessed that I wrote this. : ) It was a lot of fun.
Title: Swiss Family McKay
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: PG
Challenge: Day 24 – Mystery Schmoop![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
undermistletoe
A/N: I swear there's schmoop! It just takes a little bit to get to it!
Summary: Cut off from Atlantis and Earth, how will our heroes survive? And how does Meg Ryan fit into it?
“So what does this rate as?” Ronon asked when they finally trudged back within sight of the Stargate. It was a question someone always asked at the end of missions that didn’t end in blood, shotgun weddings or bizarre body alterations. Statistically speaking, it surfaced a frighteningly low percentage of the time.
Rodney didn’t bother looking up from his data pad where he was going over the life-support issues he had left with Radek when their duty rotation came up. “On a scale of one to ten with one being a highly useful mission where we find: A - ZPMs, B – a friendly technologically advanced society, or C – hot space babes and ten being,” he did finally pause to suck in a breath before he continued, “I’m so bored I could fall asleep while walking, then this would be-“
“An eleven,” Sheppard cut in, smirking as Rodney scowled up at him.
“Yes fine, Colonel Punch-line Stealer, go ahead take all the glory,” Rodney ranted waving a quick hand at Sheppard before he went back to his numbers. “What else is new around here?”
“Just dial the gate, McKay,” Sheppard drawled, shifting his P-90 and cocking his hip out while he waited.
Rodney rolled his eyes, but slipped his data pad back into his vest and walked over to the DHD. He punched in the symbols and waited while the gate whooshed into life. He hit his radio and said, “This is McKay reporting a total waste of time. Can we come home now?”
“Actually McKay,” Sam’s voice traveled back through the radio signal to their headsets. “We’re having a bit of a problem here and Atlantis is in lockdown for the immediate future.”
They all shared a quick glance, Teyla’s eyebrow arching as she met each of their eyes. Ronon slouched down beside a tree and huffed, digging into his coat for a hunk of Pegasus yak jerky. Rodney didn’t know what to think, they’d never been on this side of a lockdown before. He felt itchy, wrong and on track for a serious case of hyperventilating.
“What’s going on?” Sheppard demanded, pulling off his aviators and taking a step toward the gate.
“Who screwed up?” Rodney asked at the same time, drowning Sheppard out with sheer volume. Others might say he resorted to hysteria in a time of crisis, but he just called it cutting through the bullshit.
Static came over the line for a moment, something that never happened when Atlantis was running smoothly as it had been less than five hours ago when they’d left. Rodney knew that was a bad sign if even their radio systems were breaking down, his mind buzzed over his list of known problems but couldn’t think of anything that would have such far-reaching effects.
“We’re not quite sure what’s going on yet,” Sam said slowly, her normally pleasant voice sounded slightly hoarse. “We know it started when Mencia’s team came back and Atlantis kicked on the quarantine controls to lock the team in the locker room. Since then, our ability to travel in Atlantis has become more restricted by the hour. Keller and Zelenka are working on it.”
Rodney glanced over and found Sheppard already looking back with his eyes wide. “Two bit amateurs,” Rodney muttered even as he saw Sheppard scoff and twist his mouth into a grimace. “I should be there Sam, I could fix this.”
He could almost see Sam’s soft smile and how she’d duck her head before answering, “No Rodney, it’s too dangerous. I want you all to stay where you are and we’ll check in again when we know something more.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sheppard interrupted before Rodney could open his mouth to argue. “Good luck and we’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, already sounding distracted. “Atlantis out.”
“What could continue to pass the city’s quarantine process?” Teyla asked as they started making a base camp.
Well, by “they” he really meant Ronon and Teyla. They found firewood to start a fire and took inventory of their packs while Rodney sat on a log typing furiously into his laptop and Sheppard paced, grunted and pulled his hand through his hair. His shock of mane had already reached states not before cataloged by mankind.
“I’m not sure,” Rodney explained, glancing up from the city schematics he’d been pouring over. “In theory not even an airborne pathogen should be able to pass through the environmental systems, but we've been there three years, and there’s still so much we don’t know. It could be something new, or something interacting with our equipment or physiology, I just don’t have enough data to work with.”
That galled him, but after all the near death, near ascending experiences they’d live through it would have just been stupidity not to admit it. He was not and would never be stupid. The Ancients on the other hand, with their sub par priorities and piss poor warning systems ranked right up there on the stupid list along with bolo neck ties, the US’s college football BCS system, and every movie Jean Claude Van Dam had ever made. Really, would it have killed them to label things properly?
“It’s going to be all right. There're going to be fine,” Sheppard broke in, speaking for the first time since his terse order to set up and make themselves comfortable. He swung around, with his gangly arms poised on his hips and his crazy eyes boring into Rodney. “We’ve faced worse before right? They’ll have this figured out and we’ll be back in time for a midnight snack.”
Ronon tossed another handful of twigs on the small fire and bent down to blow on the low flame. In moments, he had a cheerful blaze going and set a canteen of water low in the pit to start heating. He stood up and dusted his hands off on his pants, glancing over at them. He shrugged and said, “We missed the Meg Ryan double feature. I hadn’t seen City of Angels yet.”
Rodney snorted; they could always leave it to Ronon to sum up their situation better than Ann Landers on crack.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that we lost SGA-2 this morning,” Sam said, three check-ins later. Her voice was slow and drawn out as if she were fighting to get the words up out of her chest.
They’d been up all night and it showed in the heavy bags under their eyes and the creaks in their bones. Rodney knew that his own eyes were probably bloodshot from pouring over his text for so long in the dark. So far, he couldn’t come up with any possible explanation for what could be tricking Atlantis’ sensors into spreading the disease.
Now, he just felt empty and useless. Teyla covered her mouth with a hand and stumbled back a pace into Ronon’s bulk. Rodney could see how Sheppard’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he took control of his emotions and steeled his expression.
“Parrish … Lorne,” Rodney started to remember how their two teams had so often ended up facing each other during Elizabeth’s mandatory recreation hours. The series had been tied four to four, with Teyla and Ronon edging them up for the physical challenges and holding them back during a cutthroat game of Trivial Pursuit. He straightened, taking a deep breath and set his shoulders. “What happened?”
“We thought we had the sickness under control, all the symptoms were in recess. Lorne’s team ran into trouble on H49-3KN. They dialed in ahead of schedule and we dropped the shield for them,” Sam’s breathing was labored and heavy across the radio. Her words slurred together, “It must have been instantaneous; the second they stepped through the gate, our shield came back online.”
“Oh my god,” Sheppard muttered, clenching his hands over the P-90 until his knuckles turned white.
Sam continued as though she hadn’t heard, “There were four beats against the shield and then the gate shut down. We dialed out but received no response. We can’t even take down the shield manually any more.”
Rodney swallowed over his bile and tried to kick-start his brain into working. He was desperate for something to do, anything, “Has there been any other progress yet? Something that you could send me to work on?”
“Honestly, we’re just not sure still,” Sam answered, and sighed into the microphone. “We’re working on contingency plans now. We’ll dial back in two hours.”
Atlantis didn’t dial back. Their gate stayed stubbornly inactive and after two hours and fifteen minutes, Sheppard dialed back in himself.
“Hey, it’s good to hear your voice again,” Sam said, but if they hadn’t known it was her Rodney wouldn’t have recognized the voice. “An hour ago, systems started shutting down without any clear diagnostic reason, including the dialing protocols.”
“Goddamn it, I should be there,” Rodney cursed, feeling his chest constrict under the weight of supreme helplessness. “Sam, what else is going on?”
“We’ve got one last Hail Mary pass to try, but we may not have time,” Sam started but then paused so long he wondered if they had somehow lost the connection. “Almost a third of the expedition has fallen into comas, and Keller thinks that the rest of us may not last much longer.”
“Dearest ancestors,” Teyla gasped, letting her tears fall freely down her cheeks. She took a step nearer to Rodney and reached out to squeeze his forearm through his jacket sleeve.
“I’m sorry to report that we still were not able to connect with Earth. As far as we know, they are not aware of the situation. It’s two weeks before we’ll miss the scheduled time for the data transfer and it will be three weeks before the Daedalus is in communications range,” Sam drew in a ragged breath. “We will leave messages and direct them to the new Alpha site.”
“Sam-“
“Colonel-“
“I don’t have time to argue with either of you,” Sam said reaching only a slightly higher level of volume. It was the grief in her voice that made both Rodney and Sheppard quickly shut their mouths over their arguments. “Give us an hour and then check back in. If you don’t hear from us report to the Alpha site and wait for the Daedalus.”
“Yes ma’am,” Sheppard said, looking into the blue glow of the active gate as if he could see the dazzling spires of Atlantis. “This is going to work out, okay. By this time next month we’ll be chatting about it in the mess hall over a breakfast of scrambled lizard eggs.”
“Let’s hope so, Atlantis out.”
It was twilight when they dialed back to Atlantis. The gate flared to life, its rippling surface brilliant against the dark western horizon behind it. Night insects were just waking up beginning their riot of sound.
“Atlantis? This is McKay,” Rodney tried, holding his hand up to his earpiece to make sure it was sending his signal. “Please come in.”
There was nothing from the other end of the radio signal - no voices and no static. The gate stayed active for a few more minutes and then shut down when it sensed that there would be no travel.
They waited another half an hour before Sheppard silently nudged Rodney back to the DHD to try again.
The gate didn’t even activate.
Sheppard stumbled two steps to the side and fell to his knee retching into the brush. Rodney could hear the sounds behind him, but he fought his own nausea and made his hands steady to try the address again. The first six signals dialed easily, the symbols on the gate lighting up in sequence until he hit the seventh button and the entire machine shut down again.
Only Ronon’s hands on his made him stop from trying over and over, and he noticed that his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He looked up see that Ronon's face was closed off, and his mouth set in a thin, grim line. Ronon manhandled him back to their makeshift shelter where Teyla already had Sheppard sitting on the log with a cup clutched between his hands.
He felt his knees give out just as he made it to Sheppard’s side and collapsed beside him on the makeshift bench. He could see it in his mind’s eye, coming up with an eleventh hour rescue and striding home through a gate room filled with thankful and adoring masses. Sam would hug him, kiss his cheek, and tell him that she never doubted that he would save her.
“They’re gone,” Sheppard croaked beside him, snapping Rodney out of his fantasy faster than a bucketful of cold water could have. “All of them. Atlantis. It’s gone.”
“We do not know that for sure yet, John,” Teyla said soothingly, though Rodney could hear a tremor in her voice. She exchanged an uneasy glance with Ronon, and reached out a hand to lie briefly on Sheppard's knee.
The night was chilly around them, and the stars shone down brightly through an atmosphere not bothered by pollution. Rodney pulled the zipper of his jacket up until the collar covered his neck. “There’re only two reasons the gate wouldn’t connect,” he said dully, dropping his gaze from the heavens to the earth. “Either the Atlantis gate is obstructed or it’s been completely destroyed.”
“Surely you do not think they would set the self destruct, do you Rodney?” Teyla asked urgently meeting his gaze over Sheppard’s bowed head. She was pale, and clearly holding herself together on their behalves.
He closed his eyes and scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving them pressed into his skin so that he had to talk through the hole between his pinky fingers. “Honestly, and surprisingly, I’m trying not to think much at all,” Rodney said forcing scenes of death and destruction from his mind even knowing that they’d pop into his subconscious anyway. “But they wouldn’t have had to do it themselves. You heard Sam, Atlantis was shutting itself down. There could have been emergency fail-safes in place that we wouldn’t have seen. Atlantis could have blown itself up.”
Ronon punched him in the arm and shoved a warm tin cup at him when he jerked up to yell. Grudgingly, Rodney took the cup and sniffed it cautiously. Finding nothing but coffee and what was most likely a shot from his own emergency bottle of whiskey, he gulped it down.
“Goddamnit,” Sheppard whispered, his voice catching roughly in his throat.
“Come,” Teyla said softly standing and holding her hands out to both of them. “We should get some sleep. Perhaps in the morning, clearer minds will be able to see a solution we have missed tonight.”
Rodney let Teyla pull him up, but still looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll still be alone though,” he said, letting the words sink in and knowing that they were true. Atlantis was gone forever.
“You are wrong Dr. McKay,” Teyla said, a soft smile tugged up the corners of her lips as she tugged his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “You will never be alone as long as we are here with you.”
She felt good against him, and impulsively Rodney pulled her into a hug. She squeezed him fiercely for a moment, letting him tuck his face into her neck. Too soon, Ronon jerked him back and enfolded him in Ronon’s meaty arms. Ronon’s vest didn’t smell quite as nice as Teyla, but it was still okay. He looked up to see Teyla and Sheppard forehead to forehead having a quiet conversation.
When they lay down, Teyla and Ronon kept Sheppard and him in the middle. He was on the verge of being insulted at the kid gloves they were treating him with before he remember how much it sucked to be Rodney McKay at the moment. Ronon snored, but he was a comforting bulk at Rodney’s side throughout the night.
“So, now I’m wishing we put the Alpha site a little higher on the priority list,” Rodney said looking over the pathetically small number of crates stacked up in a cave not far from the gate.
It wasn’t actually a cave, just a large recess carved into the side of a cliff surrounded by forest. The ceiling wasn’t much taller than Ronon and the floor was an uneven mess of cracks and loose gravel. There was only the most basic of supplies here: a crate of MREs, a crate of survival gear, one of building materials, and another of ordinance. In time, Atlantis would have built a permanent structure with enough provisions to keep half of Atlantis going for several months.
“Well, we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got,” Sheppard said snidely, stepping around Rodney so that he could inspect the boxes easier.
Rodney opened his mouth to retort, but Teyla, ever the peacemaker cut in, “There is more than enough here to keep us well for long past the time the Daedalus should arrive. We will just have to be careful with how we use what we have.”
Sheppard unclipped his P-90, set the weapon to the side and pried the lid off the nearest crate. He pulled out several boxes with “nails” and “screws” stamped across the sides. “Teyla’s right,” he said, beginning to lay everything out on the ground with tight-ass precision. “How long will it take the cavalry to get here?”
“Four weeks,” Rodney said instantly and then checked himself holding his fingers up and ticking them off one by one. “Five weeks at the most, assuming they don’t get sidetracked at Atlantis or nothing else bad happens.”
“Way to jinx us, McKay,” Ronon said striding into the cave and dropping a small furry animal on top of one of the crates. “I found dinner.”
“I did not!” Rodney said even as anxiety spiked through his system. So far, he’d been working on autopilot, taking his cues from Sheppard that everything was going to work out and they’d be rescued. "I didn't."
Cursing and pulling out what had to be an inch long splinter from his hand, Sheppard popped his thumb in his mouth and turned to face them. “Yeah Rodney, you kinda did,” he said slurring his words and scrunching his eyebrows together.
His heart rate climbed as Rodney contemplating spending the rest of his life undergoing manual labor without the benefit of indoor plumbing, takeout Chinese, or caffeine of any kind. “Oh,” he said, feeling dizzy and swaying.
“Relax buddy,” Sheppard said, patting him on the shoulder and not so incidentally wiping his spit off on Rodney’s jacket. “We’ll take care of you.”
“Yes,” Rodney said dryly, feeling better being able to take out his sarcasm on Sheppard. “I feel so relieved already.”
“Good, now help me unpack these boxes.”
Ronon eventually found them the perfect place to build their shelter. They had been staying in the cave, but there was no place for a fire and precious little privacy for anything. In fact, Ronon could hardly bend at the waist without sticking his butt in someone’s face.
It was with relief then, that he herded them a full morning’s walk north along the cliff face. Fortunately, with the way that nature had placed the cliff, they never actually got further from the gate, just away from it in another direction. Eventually they came to a place where a stand of trees was growing right up against the cliff. Teyla broke into a smile when she saw the place and praised Ronon highly.
“What?” Rodney asked, the place didn’t look any different that half a dozen others they had seen along the way. Definitely nothing worth getting so excited about.
Teyla had already easily scaled halfway up the formation, using two trees to hoist herself up. She turned her head and called down over her shoulder, “Come up and you shall see, Rodney. I played in such a place when I was a little girl.”
Rodney turned to Sheppard, but he only shrugged and gestured for Rodney to go up first. Rodney did, but he grumbled the whole way about why he bothered to evolve at all since he always ended up in the tree again anyway.
Letting out a squeak of shock when Ronon jerked him the rest of the way up, Rodney was pleasantly surprised when he got a look around. Ronon let go of the scruff of his jacket and he stumbled a little trying to get his feet back underneath him. While he was still trying to get his breath back, Sheppard once again beat him to the punch.
“Wow! This is like the fort I always wanted when I was a kid!”
It was true, the trees had grown around a rock cropping, creating a relatively sturdy wall around a relatively even floor. It was spacious enough that they could all move around without bumping into each other, and the place where they crawled up could easily double as a cooking/heating area. With a little work, they would have a defensible and livable place to shelter.
Teyla evidently agreed with him, she was already motioning to Ronon about how they could create a series of four rooms: one storage, two bedrooms, and one living/kitchen area. She had been to see the Athosians once she was sure that they had enough to do to keep out of trouble. She brought back bedding, cloth, and other supplies that Rodney wasn’t sure about, but was happy to have.
“Are you really sure we need to go to so much trouble?” Sheppard asked, interrupting when Teyla began to talk about appropriate waste disposal. “We could just build a shack on the beach to wait for the Daedalus.”
Rodney was curious himself, but he still remembered the tongue-lashing she had unleashed on him when she found him dumping their cooking waste in the nearby woods. He wasn’t about to make that mistake again. People had thought he could verbally flay someone alive, but they’d never had to sit through Teyla’s version of the same. Of course, no one else from Atlantis would ever have the chance again now.
Teyla looked back at them, and Rodney had to stifle the urge to shuffle his feet and point at Sheppard. She lifted one arched eyebrow and gently said, “John, when we build in the Pegasus galaxy, we build to last.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rodney could see Sheppard duck his head and blush. He looked around again and then elbowed Rodney in the ribs. “You’ve got a point Teyla. Couple of tea cozies and a welcome mat and this place’ll feel just like home.”
“That’s the spirit, Sheppard; now let’s start hauling up the heavy stuff,” Ronon said, shoving past them and jumping down to ground level.
Sheppard’s shoulders sagged, but he dutifully bent to clamber down behind Ronon. Rodney gloated for a full thirty seconds before Teyla yanked on the back on his jacket and pulled him into a discussion of pipes and pulley machines. By the time Ronon and Sheppard were back with their first load she had him twisted around her little finger and promising to make a full water pump system.
As week six began to edge into week seven, they became edgier and more agitated. The change was easier to see in Sheppard than anybody else. He restlessly wandered from down at the gate to up at the top of the cliff during the days. At night he usually sat by himself, staring into the fire, and conversation, which had been brief at the best of times, became even more stilted.
Rodney didn’t know why the Daedalus didn’t arrive; his equipment had long since drained the last of its power. He knew that the gate and DHD were in perfect working order, but without venturing out that was all he could say for sure.
There was plenty to do, and Rodney alternated his time between Teyla and Ronon, learning how to survive on an extended camping trip. When Ronon wasn’t teaching him about setting snares or skinning animals, Teyla was putting him to work making utensils and finding ways to make their home more comfortable. He fell into his small bunk each night tired and satisfied with his work, but then he dreamed of the control chair and researching the Ancient database with Zelenka.
Sometimes he dreamed about talking to Elizabeth on the balcony across from the mess hall and she would laugh at his stories about Ronon getting a face full of soot the first time they used their chimney or Sheppard getting freaked out by what amounted to a hairless squirrel. Sometimes he dreamed that he walked the deserted halls of Atlantis and had to step over the withering bodies of his colleagues.
Either way when he woke up gasping, Sheppard would pretend to be asleep in their room’s other bunk.
Ronon and Teyla had simply cut to the chase and built a bigger bunk for two in their side of the tree house. Surprisingly it hadn’t actually changed much in the way that they all treated one another.
One day Teyla grabbed him by the forearm when he passed her and drug him off to the side away from where Sheppard was pretending to chop firewood.
“What? What,” Rodney demanded, shrugging his shoulders and catching Teyla’s gaze. “I’m not busy enough? What do you want now?”
Teyla slapped him on the back of the head, a move that had ‘John Sheppard’ written all over it, and gently shook his arm. “I am worried about John, Rodney,” she said and glanced over her shoulder to see Sheppard aimless twirling the ax between his hands. “He hasn’t spoken since the day before yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Rodney sighed, he missed the other man’s snarking and conversations. Teyla and Ronon would just never find cats with obnoxious captions as funny as Sheppard did. “He’s making Ronon seem downright chatty, but what do you want me to do about it?”
“Something,” Teyla said firmly and then walked back to her staked out shade and jewelry making materials.
That night after dinner, while they were still sitting around the fire Rodney spoke up. “I thought it might be fun to tell a traditional tale of folklore tonight,” he said, and even to his own ears, it sounded stilted, but he’d already stuck his neck out, he might as well finish. “Yeah, actually it’s mostly Sheppard’s culture, but near enough.”
“I would be very interested to hear it,” Teyla said warmly, and then viciously elbowed Ronon when he made a face.
“Uh, yeah, me too,” Ronon said rubbing the spot where Teyla’s sharp little elbow had attempted to puncture his ribcage.
“Well, it starts out on a beach at dawn,” Rodney said, watching Sheppard out of the corner of his eye as the other man looked up and leaned forward the slightest bit to hear Rodney’s lowered voice. “At first you’d think it was empty, but between one blink and the next you see it populated with people. But they’re not really people.”
“Are they werewolves?” Ronon asked gruffly, smirking and then leaning back to let Teyla settle into his shoulder.
Rodney rolled his eyes, and answered, “No they’re not werewolves, now don’t interrupt. Where was I? Oh yes, they’re not people, they are spiritual beings the stupid count on in order to get out of trouble. They wear long dark coats and gather together at dusk and at dawn to listen for something only they can hear.”
“Are you sure they’re not werewolves? Keller was telling me about dog whistles and-“
“No they’re not freaking werewolves!” Rodney yelled, feeling his face flush as he slapped his hand down on his knee. “So shut up and let me get on with this romantically tragic drivel!”
“They’re angels,” Sheppard interrupted softly, sliding down the bench to sit on the floor closer to the group. He looked up at Rodney and continued, “They can fly. Some people think that they have wings like a bird, but pure white. They are the guardians of humanity.”
“Yes,” Rodney said. Yes! he thought, seeing Sheppard settle against a pillow and share a smile with Teyla. “One of these particular beings was named Seth. He was overly broody and seemed to rely on cheap tricks to get girls.”
Sheppard slapped him on the thigh and twisted his head up to glare at Rodney. “If you’re not going to tell it right, then I guess I’ll have to,” he said severely, but Rodney could finally find that spark that made him Sheppard back in his eyes. Sheppard turned back to Teyla and Ronon, “You see, Seth was a little unique.”
They took turns telling the story about how Nicholas Cage fell in love with Meg Ryan just in time for her to get splattered by a truck. Rodney thought that he and Ronon did an admirable job not butting in with bad jokes at that point. Of course, Teyla who’d had a tear in her eye since Seth had become human probably would have castrated them for it.
Sheppard grew animated while telling the story, and even when they both forgot parts of it, they managed to cobble together an acceptable storyline. It felt like old times when the had to stay overnight while on a mission and for that little bit Rodney didn’t feel the weight of the dead pushing down against his shoulders.
The first time it snowed Rodney thought they’d have to attach a leash around Ronon’s neck to keep him from running away too far into the deep drifts of snowflakes.
Rodney woke up that morning and could tell by the chill in the air and soft creak in his bones that something was different. Sheppard was still asleep with his blankets pulled up to cover his nose so that they only thing that Rodney could see was his shaggy hair poking out of the top. Of course, with the wheezing and what not it was pretty easy to tell that Sheppard was still in there.
For a moment, Rodney considered burrowing back underneath his pile of blankets and going back to sleep as well. By some stroke of luck or act of god, he hadn’t been rushed awake at the butt crack of dawn by Teyla or Ronon, so he really should enjoy it. Something kept niggling at the back of his mind however, until he finally shivered up out of bed and into his clothing.
He found Teyla standing in the lee of the tree trunk watching as Ronon bounded through the snow. Every now and then, he’d fall through the crust of the snow and be lost from sight for several minutes before resurfacing a dozen feet away.
“You’d think he hadn’t seen snow in years,” Rodney muttered, rubbing his hands together for a moment before he crossed his arms and shoved his hands into his armpits.
Teyla smiled and glanced at him for a moment before she turned her attention back to Ronon’s scene. When she spoke, it was low and as if as an after thought, “How do you know that is not the case?”
“What?” Rodney blinked. He’d been thinking about breakfast and had almost completely lost the conversation.
“A runner would not find much snow helpful for surviving so I doubt he stayed where there was cold weather,” she said, taking her hands out of her jacket pockets and scooping up a handful of snow. She let it melt in her hand as she spoke, “And you know that it did not snow on Atlantis since before Ronon arrived. I believe that while he did find Atlantis to be home, he missed being outside more.”
“Oh.” Three months ago, Rodney wouldn’t have cared that he hadn’t bothered to try to look at the situation from anyone else’s point of view. Now it was sometimes difficult to remember he came from a place where the outdoors was nothing particularly special. He huffed, and tried to bluff, “Well, it’s not like it’s that great anyway. Cold and wet.”
“Ronon is younger than we are,” Teyla answered wiping off her hand on her jacket and watching Ronon pull down tree branches to fling the snow away. “He still enjoys the magic that we have become too old to see.”
“I guess it is kind of pretty,” Rodney admitted, taking another glance around to see how the snow had completely changed the landscape. It was probably going to suck up way more energy finding food now. “I’d just as soon have it at a comfortable sixty-eight degrees.”
“Hey! Snow!” Sheppard yelled from behind them and rocketed through the gap between Rodney and Teyla. He ploughed into a drift and instantly tripped over a hidden obstruction.
Ronon was laughing his head off ... until Sheppard didn’t get up.
Rodney watched worriedly thinking about how much his back would ache if he had to carry Sheppard and his stupid broken ankle around for a week. Ronon made it to the approximately Sheppard-shaped hole and peered down. That was when Sheppard swept his arm out and caught Ronon’s foot, jerking hard enough to send the big man sprawling in the snow.
Rodney and Teyla both laughed so hard that tears were coming down her cheeks, and his ribs were starting to hurt. Then a wet snowball splatted him right in the face and the Great Snowball War was on.
The snow did give him one good idea, and Ronon was more than willing to help him out once Rodney figured out how to explain what he wanted. He woke Sheppard up early in the morning and had to duck as Sheppard flailed out of bed and nearly knocked his nose off.
“Jesus, McKay!” Sheppard yelled from the floor where he was stuck with the Athosian wove blankets twisted around his waist. “Where’s the fire?”
Sheppard wiggled furiously, managing to extract an arm before relaxing limp back to the floor. Rodney suddenly realized that despite his nerves he possibly should have waited until Sheppard woke up on his own. He stepped back nervously and laced his fingers together in front of him. “Um, Merry Christmas?” he said tentatively.
“Christmas?” Sheppard asked, blinking up at him.
“Yeah, you see my watch has the date on it,” Rodney explained and then belatedly lifted his watch so Sheppard could see it in the lamp light. “I, uh, I have a surprise for you. C’mon get dressed and meet me outside.”
Rodney dodged out of the room quickly before Sheppard woke up enough to start yelling. As he passed Ronon and Teyla’s room, he could hear the soft sounds of their speech and he moved on quickly before he accidentally heard more than he wanted to. He already had on most of his cold weather gear, so it was just a moment’s work to pull on his parka and climb downstairs.
The morning was dawning as cold and painful as a knife’s blade. The sun hadn’t cleared the tops of the trees yet, and the landscape was an unyielding picture of black and white. Rodney sighed, and watched as his breath drifted away.
“This had better be worth it, Rodney,” Sheppard whined, slowly stepping out of the tree and towards him. His coat was a darker brown than Rodney’s was, and with the fur-lined hood up, he would easily melt into the trees. Just now, he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes and yawning with his mouth open as wide as it would go.
Shrugging, Rodney dipped his head and tried to just keep breathing past his nerves. “Guess you’ll have to come with me and see,” he said and started across the trodden down path through the snow.
It was a short hike up to the top of the cliff, and Rodney used every moment of it to appreciate the irony of Sheppard tagging along behind him complaining. He warmed up as they trudged, but his nerves didn’t steady one bit until they finally reached the top.
“Here you go,” Rodney said pointing and stepping to the side so that John could go around him. He kept his eyes downcast, glancing over to the horizon to watch the sun peak over the landscape.
“I don’t see anyth- oh.”
Rodney looked back to see the Sheppard was circling his gift, looking at it from every angle. The snow was beaten back here too, but there was plenty of it left on the incline, sloping down from the highpoint they stood on. There weren’t any trees until the bottom where the snow was piled high up their trunks.
“Ronon helped me fix it,” Rodney said nervously when Sheppard didn’t say anything else. “I let him take it out yesterday, because I figured if he didn’t manage to break it or beat himself bloody you wouldn’t either. If you even like it, that is. It’s pretty lame, and I wasn’t really thinking when I got the idea so I’d understand if you you’d rather just slap me for waking you up so early.”
The snow shifted uneasily under his boots as he shuffled and gave way when he saw Sheppard advancing upon him. He stumbled and fell backward into a mound of snow and a moment later Sheppard had pounced on him.
"You," Sheppard started, and then stopped as if he didn't really know what to say. He was straddling Rodney's hips, his knees digging into the snow, and his hands were on Rodney's shoulders. "You made me a sled!"
"Um, I'm sorry?" Rodney flinched, snow trickled in the bottom of his collar, and he shivered a little.
Sheppard grinned like a manic hell-bent on death and destruction and grabbed Rodney's head between his hands. "I love it," he said and bent to press his lips to Rodney's forehead. "Thank you."
The next second he was up and off, and Rodney was left, sinking further against the hard packed snow wondering when they'd both gone insane. At least he wasn't cold anymore, definitely the opposite of cold.
"C'mon McKay!" Sheppard yelled, his voice echoing. "You can ride it with me!"
Not bothering to argue, Rodney just pushed himself to his feet and joined Sheppard on the side of the hill. Sheppard patted the edge of the sled behind him and grinned. Rolling his eyes, Rodney knelt awkwardly, and slid up as close to Sheppard as he could get.
Just before tipping them over the side, Rodney leaned up into Sheppard's ear and said, "If you break me, I swear to god that you will live to regret it."
Sheppard laughed all the way down the slide until he leaned to the side and sent them both tumbling into a mess of limbs in the soft powder. Rodney grinned up into the brightening sky and thought that if he had to be stranded a galaxy away from home; well at least he had good company.
"So, what does this rate as?" Sheppard asked quietly, one arm slung comfortably over Rodney's chest.
"I'd have to say pretty damn good," Rodney answered smugly and then pushed a handful of snow down the back of Sheppard's pants.
Title: Swiss Family McKay
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: PG
Challenge: Day 24 – Mystery Schmoop
undermistletoeA/N: I swear there's schmoop! It just takes a little bit to get to it!
Summary: Cut off from Atlantis and Earth, how will our heroes survive? And how does Meg Ryan fit into it?
“So what does this rate as?” Ronon asked when they finally trudged back within sight of the Stargate. It was a question someone always asked at the end of missions that didn’t end in blood, shotgun weddings or bizarre body alterations. Statistically speaking, it surfaced a frighteningly low percentage of the time.
Rodney didn’t bother looking up from his data pad where he was going over the life-support issues he had left with Radek when their duty rotation came up. “On a scale of one to ten with one being a highly useful mission where we find: A - ZPMs, B – a friendly technologically advanced society, or C – hot space babes and ten being,” he did finally pause to suck in a breath before he continued, “I’m so bored I could fall asleep while walking, then this would be-“
“An eleven,” Sheppard cut in, smirking as Rodney scowled up at him.
“Yes fine, Colonel Punch-line Stealer, go ahead take all the glory,” Rodney ranted waving a quick hand at Sheppard before he went back to his numbers. “What else is new around here?”
“Just dial the gate, McKay,” Sheppard drawled, shifting his P-90 and cocking his hip out while he waited.
Rodney rolled his eyes, but slipped his data pad back into his vest and walked over to the DHD. He punched in the symbols and waited while the gate whooshed into life. He hit his radio and said, “This is McKay reporting a total waste of time. Can we come home now?”
“Actually McKay,” Sam’s voice traveled back through the radio signal to their headsets. “We’re having a bit of a problem here and Atlantis is in lockdown for the immediate future.”
They all shared a quick glance, Teyla’s eyebrow arching as she met each of their eyes. Ronon slouched down beside a tree and huffed, digging into his coat for a hunk of Pegasus yak jerky. Rodney didn’t know what to think, they’d never been on this side of a lockdown before. He felt itchy, wrong and on track for a serious case of hyperventilating.
“What’s going on?” Sheppard demanded, pulling off his aviators and taking a step toward the gate.
“Who screwed up?” Rodney asked at the same time, drowning Sheppard out with sheer volume. Others might say he resorted to hysteria in a time of crisis, but he just called it cutting through the bullshit.
Static came over the line for a moment, something that never happened when Atlantis was running smoothly as it had been less than five hours ago when they’d left. Rodney knew that was a bad sign if even their radio systems were breaking down, his mind buzzed over his list of known problems but couldn’t think of anything that would have such far-reaching effects.
“We’re not quite sure what’s going on yet,” Sam said slowly, her normally pleasant voice sounded slightly hoarse. “We know it started when Mencia’s team came back and Atlantis kicked on the quarantine controls to lock the team in the locker room. Since then, our ability to travel in Atlantis has become more restricted by the hour. Keller and Zelenka are working on it.”
Rodney glanced over and found Sheppard already looking back with his eyes wide. “Two bit amateurs,” Rodney muttered even as he saw Sheppard scoff and twist his mouth into a grimace. “I should be there Sam, I could fix this.”
He could almost see Sam’s soft smile and how she’d duck her head before answering, “No Rodney, it’s too dangerous. I want you all to stay where you are and we’ll check in again when we know something more.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sheppard interrupted before Rodney could open his mouth to argue. “Good luck and we’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, already sounding distracted. “Atlantis out.”
“What could continue to pass the city’s quarantine process?” Teyla asked as they started making a base camp.
Well, by “they” he really meant Ronon and Teyla. They found firewood to start a fire and took inventory of their packs while Rodney sat on a log typing furiously into his laptop and Sheppard paced, grunted and pulled his hand through his hair. His shock of mane had already reached states not before cataloged by mankind.
“I’m not sure,” Rodney explained, glancing up from the city schematics he’d been pouring over. “In theory not even an airborne pathogen should be able to pass through the environmental systems, but we've been there three years, and there’s still so much we don’t know. It could be something new, or something interacting with our equipment or physiology, I just don’t have enough data to work with.”
That galled him, but after all the near death, near ascending experiences they’d live through it would have just been stupidity not to admit it. He was not and would never be stupid. The Ancients on the other hand, with their sub par priorities and piss poor warning systems ranked right up there on the stupid list along with bolo neck ties, the US’s college football BCS system, and every movie Jean Claude Van Dam had ever made. Really, would it have killed them to label things properly?
“It’s going to be all right. There're going to be fine,” Sheppard broke in, speaking for the first time since his terse order to set up and make themselves comfortable. He swung around, with his gangly arms poised on his hips and his crazy eyes boring into Rodney. “We’ve faced worse before right? They’ll have this figured out and we’ll be back in time for a midnight snack.”
Ronon tossed another handful of twigs on the small fire and bent down to blow on the low flame. In moments, he had a cheerful blaze going and set a canteen of water low in the pit to start heating. He stood up and dusted his hands off on his pants, glancing over at them. He shrugged and said, “We missed the Meg Ryan double feature. I hadn’t seen City of Angels yet.”
Rodney snorted; they could always leave it to Ronon to sum up their situation better than Ann Landers on crack.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that we lost SGA-2 this morning,” Sam said, three check-ins later. Her voice was slow and drawn out as if she were fighting to get the words up out of her chest.
They’d been up all night and it showed in the heavy bags under their eyes and the creaks in their bones. Rodney knew that his own eyes were probably bloodshot from pouring over his text for so long in the dark. So far, he couldn’t come up with any possible explanation for what could be tricking Atlantis’ sensors into spreading the disease.
Now, he just felt empty and useless. Teyla covered her mouth with a hand and stumbled back a pace into Ronon’s bulk. Rodney could see how Sheppard’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he took control of his emotions and steeled his expression.
“Parrish … Lorne,” Rodney started to remember how their two teams had so often ended up facing each other during Elizabeth’s mandatory recreation hours. The series had been tied four to four, with Teyla and Ronon edging them up for the physical challenges and holding them back during a cutthroat game of Trivial Pursuit. He straightened, taking a deep breath and set his shoulders. “What happened?”
“We thought we had the sickness under control, all the symptoms were in recess. Lorne’s team ran into trouble on H49-3KN. They dialed in ahead of schedule and we dropped the shield for them,” Sam’s breathing was labored and heavy across the radio. Her words slurred together, “It must have been instantaneous; the second they stepped through the gate, our shield came back online.”
“Oh my god,” Sheppard muttered, clenching his hands over the P-90 until his knuckles turned white.
Sam continued as though she hadn’t heard, “There were four beats against the shield and then the gate shut down. We dialed out but received no response. We can’t even take down the shield manually any more.”
Rodney swallowed over his bile and tried to kick-start his brain into working. He was desperate for something to do, anything, “Has there been any other progress yet? Something that you could send me to work on?”
“Honestly, we’re just not sure still,” Sam answered, and sighed into the microphone. “We’re working on contingency plans now. We’ll dial back in two hours.”
Atlantis didn’t dial back. Their gate stayed stubbornly inactive and after two hours and fifteen minutes, Sheppard dialed back in himself.
“Hey, it’s good to hear your voice again,” Sam said, but if they hadn’t known it was her Rodney wouldn’t have recognized the voice. “An hour ago, systems started shutting down without any clear diagnostic reason, including the dialing protocols.”
“Goddamn it, I should be there,” Rodney cursed, feeling his chest constrict under the weight of supreme helplessness. “Sam, what else is going on?”
“We’ve got one last Hail Mary pass to try, but we may not have time,” Sam started but then paused so long he wondered if they had somehow lost the connection. “Almost a third of the expedition has fallen into comas, and Keller thinks that the rest of us may not last much longer.”
“Dearest ancestors,” Teyla gasped, letting her tears fall freely down her cheeks. She took a step nearer to Rodney and reached out to squeeze his forearm through his jacket sleeve.
“I’m sorry to report that we still were not able to connect with Earth. As far as we know, they are not aware of the situation. It’s two weeks before we’ll miss the scheduled time for the data transfer and it will be three weeks before the Daedalus is in communications range,” Sam drew in a ragged breath. “We will leave messages and direct them to the new Alpha site.”
“Sam-“
“Colonel-“
“I don’t have time to argue with either of you,” Sam said reaching only a slightly higher level of volume. It was the grief in her voice that made both Rodney and Sheppard quickly shut their mouths over their arguments. “Give us an hour and then check back in. If you don’t hear from us report to the Alpha site and wait for the Daedalus.”
“Yes ma’am,” Sheppard said, looking into the blue glow of the active gate as if he could see the dazzling spires of Atlantis. “This is going to work out, okay. By this time next month we’ll be chatting about it in the mess hall over a breakfast of scrambled lizard eggs.”
“Let’s hope so, Atlantis out.”
It was twilight when they dialed back to Atlantis. The gate flared to life, its rippling surface brilliant against the dark western horizon behind it. Night insects were just waking up beginning their riot of sound.
“Atlantis? This is McKay,” Rodney tried, holding his hand up to his earpiece to make sure it was sending his signal. “Please come in.”
There was nothing from the other end of the radio signal - no voices and no static. The gate stayed active for a few more minutes and then shut down when it sensed that there would be no travel.
They waited another half an hour before Sheppard silently nudged Rodney back to the DHD to try again.
The gate didn’t even activate.
Sheppard stumbled two steps to the side and fell to his knee retching into the brush. Rodney could hear the sounds behind him, but he fought his own nausea and made his hands steady to try the address again. The first six signals dialed easily, the symbols on the gate lighting up in sequence until he hit the seventh button and the entire machine shut down again.
Only Ronon’s hands on his made him stop from trying over and over, and he noticed that his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He looked up see that Ronon's face was closed off, and his mouth set in a thin, grim line. Ronon manhandled him back to their makeshift shelter where Teyla already had Sheppard sitting on the log with a cup clutched between his hands.
He felt his knees give out just as he made it to Sheppard’s side and collapsed beside him on the makeshift bench. He could see it in his mind’s eye, coming up with an eleventh hour rescue and striding home through a gate room filled with thankful and adoring masses. Sam would hug him, kiss his cheek, and tell him that she never doubted that he would save her.
“They’re gone,” Sheppard croaked beside him, snapping Rodney out of his fantasy faster than a bucketful of cold water could have. “All of them. Atlantis. It’s gone.”
“We do not know that for sure yet, John,” Teyla said soothingly, though Rodney could hear a tremor in her voice. She exchanged an uneasy glance with Ronon, and reached out a hand to lie briefly on Sheppard's knee.
The night was chilly around them, and the stars shone down brightly through an atmosphere not bothered by pollution. Rodney pulled the zipper of his jacket up until the collar covered his neck. “There’re only two reasons the gate wouldn’t connect,” he said dully, dropping his gaze from the heavens to the earth. “Either the Atlantis gate is obstructed or it’s been completely destroyed.”
“Surely you do not think they would set the self destruct, do you Rodney?” Teyla asked urgently meeting his gaze over Sheppard’s bowed head. She was pale, and clearly holding herself together on their behalves.
He closed his eyes and scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving them pressed into his skin so that he had to talk through the hole between his pinky fingers. “Honestly, and surprisingly, I’m trying not to think much at all,” Rodney said forcing scenes of death and destruction from his mind even knowing that they’d pop into his subconscious anyway. “But they wouldn’t have had to do it themselves. You heard Sam, Atlantis was shutting itself down. There could have been emergency fail-safes in place that we wouldn’t have seen. Atlantis could have blown itself up.”
Ronon punched him in the arm and shoved a warm tin cup at him when he jerked up to yell. Grudgingly, Rodney took the cup and sniffed it cautiously. Finding nothing but coffee and what was most likely a shot from his own emergency bottle of whiskey, he gulped it down.
“Goddamnit,” Sheppard whispered, his voice catching roughly in his throat.
“Come,” Teyla said softly standing and holding her hands out to both of them. “We should get some sleep. Perhaps in the morning, clearer minds will be able to see a solution we have missed tonight.”
Rodney let Teyla pull him up, but still looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll still be alone though,” he said, letting the words sink in and knowing that they were true. Atlantis was gone forever.
“You are wrong Dr. McKay,” Teyla said, a soft smile tugged up the corners of her lips as she tugged his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “You will never be alone as long as we are here with you.”
She felt good against him, and impulsively Rodney pulled her into a hug. She squeezed him fiercely for a moment, letting him tuck his face into her neck. Too soon, Ronon jerked him back and enfolded him in Ronon’s meaty arms. Ronon’s vest didn’t smell quite as nice as Teyla, but it was still okay. He looked up to see Teyla and Sheppard forehead to forehead having a quiet conversation.
When they lay down, Teyla and Ronon kept Sheppard and him in the middle. He was on the verge of being insulted at the kid gloves they were treating him with before he remember how much it sucked to be Rodney McKay at the moment. Ronon snored, but he was a comforting bulk at Rodney’s side throughout the night.
“So, now I’m wishing we put the Alpha site a little higher on the priority list,” Rodney said looking over the pathetically small number of crates stacked up in a cave not far from the gate.
It wasn’t actually a cave, just a large recess carved into the side of a cliff surrounded by forest. The ceiling wasn’t much taller than Ronon and the floor was an uneven mess of cracks and loose gravel. There was only the most basic of supplies here: a crate of MREs, a crate of survival gear, one of building materials, and another of ordinance. In time, Atlantis would have built a permanent structure with enough provisions to keep half of Atlantis going for several months.
“Well, we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got,” Sheppard said snidely, stepping around Rodney so that he could inspect the boxes easier.
Rodney opened his mouth to retort, but Teyla, ever the peacemaker cut in, “There is more than enough here to keep us well for long past the time the Daedalus should arrive. We will just have to be careful with how we use what we have.”
Sheppard unclipped his P-90, set the weapon to the side and pried the lid off the nearest crate. He pulled out several boxes with “nails” and “screws” stamped across the sides. “Teyla’s right,” he said, beginning to lay everything out on the ground with tight-ass precision. “How long will it take the cavalry to get here?”
“Four weeks,” Rodney said instantly and then checked himself holding his fingers up and ticking them off one by one. “Five weeks at the most, assuming they don’t get sidetracked at Atlantis or nothing else bad happens.”
“Way to jinx us, McKay,” Ronon said striding into the cave and dropping a small furry animal on top of one of the crates. “I found dinner.”
“I did not!” Rodney said even as anxiety spiked through his system. So far, he’d been working on autopilot, taking his cues from Sheppard that everything was going to work out and they’d be rescued. "I didn't."
Cursing and pulling out what had to be an inch long splinter from his hand, Sheppard popped his thumb in his mouth and turned to face them. “Yeah Rodney, you kinda did,” he said slurring his words and scrunching his eyebrows together.
His heart rate climbed as Rodney contemplating spending the rest of his life undergoing manual labor without the benefit of indoor plumbing, takeout Chinese, or caffeine of any kind. “Oh,” he said, feeling dizzy and swaying.
“Relax buddy,” Sheppard said, patting him on the shoulder and not so incidentally wiping his spit off on Rodney’s jacket. “We’ll take care of you.”
“Yes,” Rodney said dryly, feeling better being able to take out his sarcasm on Sheppard. “I feel so relieved already.”
“Good, now help me unpack these boxes.”
Ronon eventually found them the perfect place to build their shelter. They had been staying in the cave, but there was no place for a fire and precious little privacy for anything. In fact, Ronon could hardly bend at the waist without sticking his butt in someone’s face.
It was with relief then, that he herded them a full morning’s walk north along the cliff face. Fortunately, with the way that nature had placed the cliff, they never actually got further from the gate, just away from it in another direction. Eventually they came to a place where a stand of trees was growing right up against the cliff. Teyla broke into a smile when she saw the place and praised Ronon highly.
“What?” Rodney asked, the place didn’t look any different that half a dozen others they had seen along the way. Definitely nothing worth getting so excited about.
Teyla had already easily scaled halfway up the formation, using two trees to hoist herself up. She turned her head and called down over her shoulder, “Come up and you shall see, Rodney. I played in such a place when I was a little girl.”
Rodney turned to Sheppard, but he only shrugged and gestured for Rodney to go up first. Rodney did, but he grumbled the whole way about why he bothered to evolve at all since he always ended up in the tree again anyway.
Letting out a squeak of shock when Ronon jerked him the rest of the way up, Rodney was pleasantly surprised when he got a look around. Ronon let go of the scruff of his jacket and he stumbled a little trying to get his feet back underneath him. While he was still trying to get his breath back, Sheppard once again beat him to the punch.
“Wow! This is like the fort I always wanted when I was a kid!”
It was true, the trees had grown around a rock cropping, creating a relatively sturdy wall around a relatively even floor. It was spacious enough that they could all move around without bumping into each other, and the place where they crawled up could easily double as a cooking/heating area. With a little work, they would have a defensible and livable place to shelter.
Teyla evidently agreed with him, she was already motioning to Ronon about how they could create a series of four rooms: one storage, two bedrooms, and one living/kitchen area. She had been to see the Athosians once she was sure that they had enough to do to keep out of trouble. She brought back bedding, cloth, and other supplies that Rodney wasn’t sure about, but was happy to have.
“Are you really sure we need to go to so much trouble?” Sheppard asked, interrupting when Teyla began to talk about appropriate waste disposal. “We could just build a shack on the beach to wait for the Daedalus.”
Rodney was curious himself, but he still remembered the tongue-lashing she had unleashed on him when she found him dumping their cooking waste in the nearby woods. He wasn’t about to make that mistake again. People had thought he could verbally flay someone alive, but they’d never had to sit through Teyla’s version of the same. Of course, no one else from Atlantis would ever have the chance again now.
Teyla looked back at them, and Rodney had to stifle the urge to shuffle his feet and point at Sheppard. She lifted one arched eyebrow and gently said, “John, when we build in the Pegasus galaxy, we build to last.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rodney could see Sheppard duck his head and blush. He looked around again and then elbowed Rodney in the ribs. “You’ve got a point Teyla. Couple of tea cozies and a welcome mat and this place’ll feel just like home.”
“That’s the spirit, Sheppard; now let’s start hauling up the heavy stuff,” Ronon said, shoving past them and jumping down to ground level.
Sheppard’s shoulders sagged, but he dutifully bent to clamber down behind Ronon. Rodney gloated for a full thirty seconds before Teyla yanked on the back on his jacket and pulled him into a discussion of pipes and pulley machines. By the time Ronon and Sheppard were back with their first load she had him twisted around her little finger and promising to make a full water pump system.
As week six began to edge into week seven, they became edgier and more agitated. The change was easier to see in Sheppard than anybody else. He restlessly wandered from down at the gate to up at the top of the cliff during the days. At night he usually sat by himself, staring into the fire, and conversation, which had been brief at the best of times, became even more stilted.
Rodney didn’t know why the Daedalus didn’t arrive; his equipment had long since drained the last of its power. He knew that the gate and DHD were in perfect working order, but without venturing out that was all he could say for sure.
There was plenty to do, and Rodney alternated his time between Teyla and Ronon, learning how to survive on an extended camping trip. When Ronon wasn’t teaching him about setting snares or skinning animals, Teyla was putting him to work making utensils and finding ways to make their home more comfortable. He fell into his small bunk each night tired and satisfied with his work, but then he dreamed of the control chair and researching the Ancient database with Zelenka.
Sometimes he dreamed about talking to Elizabeth on the balcony across from the mess hall and she would laugh at his stories about Ronon getting a face full of soot the first time they used their chimney or Sheppard getting freaked out by what amounted to a hairless squirrel. Sometimes he dreamed that he walked the deserted halls of Atlantis and had to step over the withering bodies of his colleagues.
Either way when he woke up gasping, Sheppard would pretend to be asleep in their room’s other bunk.
Ronon and Teyla had simply cut to the chase and built a bigger bunk for two in their side of the tree house. Surprisingly it hadn’t actually changed much in the way that they all treated one another.
One day Teyla grabbed him by the forearm when he passed her and drug him off to the side away from where Sheppard was pretending to chop firewood.
“What? What,” Rodney demanded, shrugging his shoulders and catching Teyla’s gaze. “I’m not busy enough? What do you want now?”
Teyla slapped him on the back of the head, a move that had ‘John Sheppard’ written all over it, and gently shook his arm. “I am worried about John, Rodney,” she said and glanced over her shoulder to see Sheppard aimless twirling the ax between his hands. “He hasn’t spoken since the day before yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Rodney sighed, he missed the other man’s snarking and conversations. Teyla and Ronon would just never find cats with obnoxious captions as funny as Sheppard did. “He’s making Ronon seem downright chatty, but what do you want me to do about it?”
“Something,” Teyla said firmly and then walked back to her staked out shade and jewelry making materials.
That night after dinner, while they were still sitting around the fire Rodney spoke up. “I thought it might be fun to tell a traditional tale of folklore tonight,” he said, and even to his own ears, it sounded stilted, but he’d already stuck his neck out, he might as well finish. “Yeah, actually it’s mostly Sheppard’s culture, but near enough.”
“I would be very interested to hear it,” Teyla said warmly, and then viciously elbowed Ronon when he made a face.
“Uh, yeah, me too,” Ronon said rubbing the spot where Teyla’s sharp little elbow had attempted to puncture his ribcage.
“Well, it starts out on a beach at dawn,” Rodney said, watching Sheppard out of the corner of his eye as the other man looked up and leaned forward the slightest bit to hear Rodney’s lowered voice. “At first you’d think it was empty, but between one blink and the next you see it populated with people. But they’re not really people.”
“Are they werewolves?” Ronon asked gruffly, smirking and then leaning back to let Teyla settle into his shoulder.
Rodney rolled his eyes, and answered, “No they’re not werewolves, now don’t interrupt. Where was I? Oh yes, they’re not people, they are spiritual beings the stupid count on in order to get out of trouble. They wear long dark coats and gather together at dusk and at dawn to listen for something only they can hear.”
“Are you sure they’re not werewolves? Keller was telling me about dog whistles and-“
“No they’re not freaking werewolves!” Rodney yelled, feeling his face flush as he slapped his hand down on his knee. “So shut up and let me get on with this romantically tragic drivel!”
“They’re angels,” Sheppard interrupted softly, sliding down the bench to sit on the floor closer to the group. He looked up at Rodney and continued, “They can fly. Some people think that they have wings like a bird, but pure white. They are the guardians of humanity.”
“Yes,” Rodney said. Yes! he thought, seeing Sheppard settle against a pillow and share a smile with Teyla. “One of these particular beings was named Seth. He was overly broody and seemed to rely on cheap tricks to get girls.”
Sheppard slapped him on the thigh and twisted his head up to glare at Rodney. “If you’re not going to tell it right, then I guess I’ll have to,” he said severely, but Rodney could finally find that spark that made him Sheppard back in his eyes. Sheppard turned back to Teyla and Ronon, “You see, Seth was a little unique.”
They took turns telling the story about how Nicholas Cage fell in love with Meg Ryan just in time for her to get splattered by a truck. Rodney thought that he and Ronon did an admirable job not butting in with bad jokes at that point. Of course, Teyla who’d had a tear in her eye since Seth had become human probably would have castrated them for it.
Sheppard grew animated while telling the story, and even when they both forgot parts of it, they managed to cobble together an acceptable storyline. It felt like old times when the had to stay overnight while on a mission and for that little bit Rodney didn’t feel the weight of the dead pushing down against his shoulders.
The first time it snowed Rodney thought they’d have to attach a leash around Ronon’s neck to keep him from running away too far into the deep drifts of snowflakes.
Rodney woke up that morning and could tell by the chill in the air and soft creak in his bones that something was different. Sheppard was still asleep with his blankets pulled up to cover his nose so that they only thing that Rodney could see was his shaggy hair poking out of the top. Of course, with the wheezing and what not it was pretty easy to tell that Sheppard was still in there.
For a moment, Rodney considered burrowing back underneath his pile of blankets and going back to sleep as well. By some stroke of luck or act of god, he hadn’t been rushed awake at the butt crack of dawn by Teyla or Ronon, so he really should enjoy it. Something kept niggling at the back of his mind however, until he finally shivered up out of bed and into his clothing.
He found Teyla standing in the lee of the tree trunk watching as Ronon bounded through the snow. Every now and then, he’d fall through the crust of the snow and be lost from sight for several minutes before resurfacing a dozen feet away.
“You’d think he hadn’t seen snow in years,” Rodney muttered, rubbing his hands together for a moment before he crossed his arms and shoved his hands into his armpits.
Teyla smiled and glanced at him for a moment before she turned her attention back to Ronon’s scene. When she spoke, it was low and as if as an after thought, “How do you know that is not the case?”
“What?” Rodney blinked. He’d been thinking about breakfast and had almost completely lost the conversation.
“A runner would not find much snow helpful for surviving so I doubt he stayed where there was cold weather,” she said, taking her hands out of her jacket pockets and scooping up a handful of snow. She let it melt in her hand as she spoke, “And you know that it did not snow on Atlantis since before Ronon arrived. I believe that while he did find Atlantis to be home, he missed being outside more.”
“Oh.” Three months ago, Rodney wouldn’t have cared that he hadn’t bothered to try to look at the situation from anyone else’s point of view. Now it was sometimes difficult to remember he came from a place where the outdoors was nothing particularly special. He huffed, and tried to bluff, “Well, it’s not like it’s that great anyway. Cold and wet.”
“Ronon is younger than we are,” Teyla answered wiping off her hand on her jacket and watching Ronon pull down tree branches to fling the snow away. “He still enjoys the magic that we have become too old to see.”
“I guess it is kind of pretty,” Rodney admitted, taking another glance around to see how the snow had completely changed the landscape. It was probably going to suck up way more energy finding food now. “I’d just as soon have it at a comfortable sixty-eight degrees.”
“Hey! Snow!” Sheppard yelled from behind them and rocketed through the gap between Rodney and Teyla. He ploughed into a drift and instantly tripped over a hidden obstruction.
Ronon was laughing his head off ... until Sheppard didn’t get up.
Rodney watched worriedly thinking about how much his back would ache if he had to carry Sheppard and his stupid broken ankle around for a week. Ronon made it to the approximately Sheppard-shaped hole and peered down. That was when Sheppard swept his arm out and caught Ronon’s foot, jerking hard enough to send the big man sprawling in the snow.
Rodney and Teyla both laughed so hard that tears were coming down her cheeks, and his ribs were starting to hurt. Then a wet snowball splatted him right in the face and the Great Snowball War was on.
The snow did give him one good idea, and Ronon was more than willing to help him out once Rodney figured out how to explain what he wanted. He woke Sheppard up early in the morning and had to duck as Sheppard flailed out of bed and nearly knocked his nose off.
“Jesus, McKay!” Sheppard yelled from the floor where he was stuck with the Athosian wove blankets twisted around his waist. “Where’s the fire?”
Sheppard wiggled furiously, managing to extract an arm before relaxing limp back to the floor. Rodney suddenly realized that despite his nerves he possibly should have waited until Sheppard woke up on his own. He stepped back nervously and laced his fingers together in front of him. “Um, Merry Christmas?” he said tentatively.
“Christmas?” Sheppard asked, blinking up at him.
“Yeah, you see my watch has the date on it,” Rodney explained and then belatedly lifted his watch so Sheppard could see it in the lamp light. “I, uh, I have a surprise for you. C’mon get dressed and meet me outside.”
Rodney dodged out of the room quickly before Sheppard woke up enough to start yelling. As he passed Ronon and Teyla’s room, he could hear the soft sounds of their speech and he moved on quickly before he accidentally heard more than he wanted to. He already had on most of his cold weather gear, so it was just a moment’s work to pull on his parka and climb downstairs.
The morning was dawning as cold and painful as a knife’s blade. The sun hadn’t cleared the tops of the trees yet, and the landscape was an unyielding picture of black and white. Rodney sighed, and watched as his breath drifted away.
“This had better be worth it, Rodney,” Sheppard whined, slowly stepping out of the tree and towards him. His coat was a darker brown than Rodney’s was, and with the fur-lined hood up, he would easily melt into the trees. Just now, he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes and yawning with his mouth open as wide as it would go.
Shrugging, Rodney dipped his head and tried to just keep breathing past his nerves. “Guess you’ll have to come with me and see,” he said and started across the trodden down path through the snow.
It was a short hike up to the top of the cliff, and Rodney used every moment of it to appreciate the irony of Sheppard tagging along behind him complaining. He warmed up as they trudged, but his nerves didn’t steady one bit until they finally reached the top.
“Here you go,” Rodney said pointing and stepping to the side so that John could go around him. He kept his eyes downcast, glancing over to the horizon to watch the sun peak over the landscape.
“I don’t see anyth- oh.”
Rodney looked back to see the Sheppard was circling his gift, looking at it from every angle. The snow was beaten back here too, but there was plenty of it left on the incline, sloping down from the highpoint they stood on. There weren’t any trees until the bottom where the snow was piled high up their trunks.
“Ronon helped me fix it,” Rodney said nervously when Sheppard didn’t say anything else. “I let him take it out yesterday, because I figured if he didn’t manage to break it or beat himself bloody you wouldn’t either. If you even like it, that is. It’s pretty lame, and I wasn’t really thinking when I got the idea so I’d understand if you you’d rather just slap me for waking you up so early.”
The snow shifted uneasily under his boots as he shuffled and gave way when he saw Sheppard advancing upon him. He stumbled and fell backward into a mound of snow and a moment later Sheppard had pounced on him.
"You," Sheppard started, and then stopped as if he didn't really know what to say. He was straddling Rodney's hips, his knees digging into the snow, and his hands were on Rodney's shoulders. "You made me a sled!"
"Um, I'm sorry?" Rodney flinched, snow trickled in the bottom of his collar, and he shivered a little.
Sheppard grinned like a manic hell-bent on death and destruction and grabbed Rodney's head between his hands. "I love it," he said and bent to press his lips to Rodney's forehead. "Thank you."
The next second he was up and off, and Rodney was left, sinking further against the hard packed snow wondering when they'd both gone insane. At least he wasn't cold anymore, definitely the opposite of cold.
"C'mon McKay!" Sheppard yelled, his voice echoing. "You can ride it with me!"
Not bothering to argue, Rodney just pushed himself to his feet and joined Sheppard on the side of the hill. Sheppard patted the edge of the sled behind him and grinned. Rolling his eyes, Rodney knelt awkwardly, and slid up as close to Sheppard as he could get.
Just before tipping them over the side, Rodney leaned up into Sheppard's ear and said, "If you break me, I swear to god that you will live to regret it."
Sheppard laughed all the way down the slide until he leaned to the side and sent them both tumbling into a mess of limbs in the soft powder. Rodney grinned up into the brightening sky and thought that if he had to be stranded a galaxy away from home; well at least he had good company.
"So, what does this rate as?" Sheppard asked quietly, one arm slung comfortably over Rodney's chest.
"I'd have to say pretty damn good," Rodney answered smugly and then pushed a handful of snow down the back of Sheppard's pants.
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