sga_flashfic | Here There Be Monsters by alizarin_nyc for sga

alizarin-nyc.livejournal.com posting in

Title: Here There Be Monsters
Author: Alizarin (

alizarin_nyc)
Written for:

sga_flashfic challenge: “Shark!”
Pairing: McShep, if you squint
Spoilers: NONE
Rating: PG-13 for shark guts
Notes: Mistakes, if pointed out, will be fixed. Feedback will be snuggled.
Summary: Pretty soon, John will have faced down every single one of his fears.

When they slit open the shark's stomach, several things came sliding out.

One of Rodney's laptops was not the strangest thing to come out, neither was the shrink-wrapped MRE, covered in slimy half-digested fish. The strangest and most disturbing thing was the wraith arm that fell to the floor, glistening in stomach juices on the plastic tarp, its hand curled into a defiant fist like a tiny fetus.

"That's weird," Rodney said.

"Thanks for stating the obvious, McKay," John replied.

"People," Elizabeth said, looking around. "What does this mean?"

"Let's run tests," Carson said, and got down to business. He bagged and tagged the shark corpse and the arm with care, taking samples from each, spreading the contents of the stomach out on a wire mesh, carefully labeling glass jars and vials with everything he found.

Later, they all sat looking at one another in the briefing room, waiting for Carson and his team to come back with a report. Rodney was typing furiously on his laptop - one he'd obviously not consigned to the depths of the ocean - and John just sat, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, trying not to appear bored.

When Carson finally burst in, out of breath, they ushered him into a chair.

"Well, there's not much I can tell you except that this creature is entirely similar to Carcharodon carcharias, or the Great White Shark, such as we'd see on earth," Carson shuffled some papers in front of him. “The biology team is working on more tests. And that's definitely a wraith arm, such as we'd see on, well... on a wraith. The shark bit off the wraith's arm probably sometime last week, and has been having a tough time digesting it."

"Was the wraith arm the cause of the shark's demise?" Elizabeth asked him.

"No. Well, possibly.” Carson sat up straighter in his chair as Rodney cast disparaging looks his way. “I’m not a marine biologist you know! Or a coroner.” Rodney rolled his eyes and went back to his laptop. “It may have died of old age, or yes, indigestion. I can only surmise that it swam into the underwater chamber where we found it purely by accident."

"Stupid shark," Rodney said, looking up from his laptop again.

"Deadly shark," John said. “If it killed a wraith. Breakfast of champions and all that." Rodney shot him a dirty look. "What?"

"The city has a vast underwater network that we have previously been too busy to care about," Rodney said, now ignoring John completely. "It looks like an area that might have been a working part of Atlantis at one time, which was then flooded when it no longer became viable, perhaps even before the city was sunk."

"How did you find this out, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, a little data collecting I was doing off of Pier 36."

“Does that explain the laptop?” John asked, “Which is also apparently part of a nutritious breakfast by the way.”

"No, no, Colonel, that does not explain the laptop. And all this talk of breakfast is making me hungry. However, the sensors that I dropped off the pier picked up a sizeable area of Atlantis that our blueprints only hint at. Probably because the Ancients decided there wasn't a very good view all the way down there, I don't know, but..."

"Rodney," Elizabeth said. She often displayed the patience of a saint. "Can any of this help us with the issue of the wraith arm, inside of a shark, that then swam into Atlantis?"

"Oh um, well, yes, actually," Rodney looked momentarily flustered. "I think the obvious point here that we're not stating is that wraith are in the area, perhaps even trying to swim to Atlantis."

"Swim?" Sheppard asked. "Since when do wraith swim?"

"Since when do they not swim?" Rodney shot back.

"Good point," Elizabeth said. "Rodney, you're in charge of coming up with the best course of action for these sunken layers of Atlantis. We need them to be secure. Carson, continue tests on the shark and have the biologists sample the water in the filled chambers. John, this week's mission is scrapped for now, until we get this sorted out. I don't want to take any chances."

"But..." John began, but then gave up. He could hardly argue with a wraith threat this close. But he'd been really looking forward to going offworld after Teyla told him that the Kaalamatien people were known for their fine wines. He'd kill for a nice Cabernet right about now. With some fish, yes, definitely. Swordfish steak. "Hey, by the way, what are the plans for the shark carcass? I want first dibs on a pair of sharkskin boots."

Carson and Rodney breezed out of the conference room, leaving Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon behind. They rolled their eyes at John’s perfectly legitimate question and continued discussing their plans to warn the mainland Athosians about what they'd discovered. John sighed, thinking about how everyone lost their sense of humor the minute the wraith came into the picture. What was the use of staring death in the face, if not to laugh right in it?

He went back to his room and plucked at his guitar. He tried to write a song about his feelings, but kept coming up with limericks instead. Dirty limericks, actually. About McKay mainly, and a few featuring Teyla and Ronon. He really needed something to do.

When his radio blared in his ear and he heard Rodney screaming bloody murder, his first thought was, be careful what you wish for.

He was further punished for his sins when he made it to the docking chamber where they had discovered the shark, then just a dark blob on the scanners, swirling around in the black. Now, everything was brightly lit. They'd activated the chamber so the doctors could move the shark to the lab, and Rodney and Zelenka had been scheduled to work there, figuring out how the interlocking chambers and underwater rooms worked.

The docking chamber was knee deep in water and Zelenka was right in the middle, shouting toward a doorway on the other side. John could see Rodney over there, white limbs flailing around in some kind of pool. It looked like Rodney was swimming back toward them, as if for dear life. A current seemed to push him away and he struggled, his head suddenly disappearing.

“Rodney!” John yelled, scrambling down into the chamber on the metal rungs and landing with a splash. The water dragged at his legs as he moved to the door.

“He opened the door and fell in. Now, chamber is filling with water and Dr. McKay cannot get back because of currents,” Zelenka shouted to John. “Very strange, no?”

John looked down and saw the water rising in the chamber, rushing in from below, now coming up to Zelenka’s hips.

“Go for help, Radek,” John said. “See if you can get this chamber to empty. I’m going after Rodney.”

John stepped through the door and it zipped closed behind him. "Ah crap," he said. The security protocols on this underwater section were for shit.

John paused, staring angrily at the door before he realized he was standing on a tiny, little ledge. There was no floor on the other side of the door. There was just water. John turned and stumbled forward and then fell into what looked like a cavernous lake. It stretched out into the darkness in front of him, partially lit by the glow still emanating from the door. A low ceiling hung from sheer walls all around and he had a moment of vertigo as he realized there was no discernible bottom below him.

“Rodney!” His radio washed out of his ear as a small wave splashed him in the face. He reached for it but it was gone, sinking out of sight into the blue-black deep.

“John!” Rodney’s voice was there, just there, his head turning to look at John over the rippling surface of the water. His eyes registered resignation that John was again risking his life stupidly. There was also something in them that John realized was sheer terror. “Get me out of here John. Now.”

“I’m afraid that might be a bit more difficult than…” John said, and then he froze, treading the water, eyes locked just over Rodney’s shoulder.

“Shark,” he said. He was amazed that his voice could sound so calm. But Rodney already knew what he was seeing.

“Yes. A fucking Great White John, and did I mention, get us the fuck out of here right now!” Rodney didn’t sound the least bit calm.

John fumbled for his gun, batting at his clothes, which swam around his hands like seaweed. Why didn’t he think to strip down before going through the door? Rodney had, for his arms were bare and he clearly had no weapons. They had both been phenomenally stupid. The gun now rested in John’s hands and he pointed it at the fin that was slowly circling behind Rodney.

“My God,” John breathed.

He was in the water with a fucking shark. The fin was huge and dark grey and everything that the movies said it would be. Except for the fact that it was alive, and so very, very close. The fin was tall, stretching out of the water, slicing through the waves with ease, switching back and forth and coming ever closer.

“Colonel, I’m really, really trying not to panic here, because I know that panic will inevitably lead to me drowning and as I drown, I will clutch on to you and I will surely drown you with me, even as we are being ripped to shreds by a shark, and right now I can’t say that you don’t deserve it, but you can’t say that I haven’t given you fair warning...”

And then John pulled the trigger. A spray of blood erupted behind Rodney, the fin seeming to stop mid-glide. The shark began to thrash. It reared up out of the water, bloody bits of skin flying and frothing. It’s giant mouth opened wide and John caught a terrifying glimpse of row after row of pointy, scarred teeth.

“Fuck, John, you shot it!” Rodney yelled, practically flinging himself out of the water, the tendons in his neck standing out as he splashed around.

“What did you want me to do, it was getting closer, it was going to bite us!”

“Oh my God.” Rodney started swimming to John frantically, trying to put as much distance between the shattered shark and himself. John shot it again, suddenly fearing what a wounded and pissed off shark might try to do. He tried to squeeze off another shot, but apparently the gun had had enough salt water for one day. Nothing happened. John re-holstered it -- you never know when it might come in handy -- and reached for his knife. It was very difficult to hold a knife, tread water and panic all at the same time.

“Over here, John, there’s something to hang on to,” Rodney was over to the left. They were slowly getting pushed further away from the door. Rodney was holding on to a small perch on the wall just below the water line and John swam over and gripped it with him. Rodney looked like a drowned rat.

The bloody water was spreading out in a circle, the thrashing shark beginning to slow. Finally it stopped moving and just floated in the water, its bulk rising to the surface in a dark mass, and its blood flowered around them.

“Fuck, Rodney. Fuck!”

“John, I opened the door, I didn’t know...”

“Don’t worry, Rodney, it’s okay. Shit, you’ve got no clothes on.”

“I’ve got boxers,” Rodney said defiantly, but his teeth were chattering in his head and his skin was covered in goose bumps. “Where’s your backup?”

“I sent Zelenka for help. They’re going to try to get the door open.”

“Yes, yes, well, for your sake, I hope that me being on this side of the door doesn’t pose the same problems that I can easily envision when leaving things in the hands of Z-Zelenka.”

“Good to see that you’re handling all of this okay,” John said wryly.

“J-j-j-just c-c-cold.”

“Well, this is the ocean. I think it’s coming up from the very bottom of Atlantis. It looks like the Atlanteans built themselves an underground ocean lake. Why, I have no clue. But it’s going to be quite cold. And full of marine life. Like sharks, apparently.”

“H-how far down do you think it goes?” Rodney asked, the little waves brushing up against his chin, which was now turning blue.

“Rodney, come here. Body heat will keep you warmer. We can’t have you dying of hypothermia,” John said, pulling Rodney to him with his free hand. “I can’t imagine how far down it goes.” He opened his uniform vest and tried to wrap Rodney close to him. God, Rodney’s lips were purple. And it was dark and cold and the smell of blood in the water was making him feel light-headed. Where was Zelenka?

“Hey, I have an idea.” He tilted his head and thought about lights. Please, Atlantis. From below, light began to filter up through the water.

Rodney had snuggled in under his arm and was pressed up tight against him, eyes closed. “Oh, how very romantic, Colonel,” he said. “Now if you c-c-could just get a yacht and some really good Cabernet, I’d be all yours.”

“You like Cabernet, too?” John asked, pulling him in tighter. Really, it was to save his life, that’s all. “I was thinking earlier, you know, before we ended up in a bloody underground lake with man-eating sharks, that I’d like to enjoy some of that wine Teyla was telling us the Kaalamatiens make.

“If we survive this,” Rodney said, clutching the front of John’s uniform. “It’s a date.”

John was about to reply with something suitably flirtatious yet noncommittal when he looked up and saw flashes of black and grey making their way toward them from across the water and from below, up to the surface. More sharks. Drawn by the blood of their fallen comrade, no doubt and swimming up through the green light.

“Sharks, Rodney, sharks, take this, take it!” John was shouting, and pushing the knife to Rodney. He could use the butt of his gun.

“Go for the eyes, Rodney. If you can’t do that, a swift blow to the nose. Hard. Don’t use your hand, their skin will cut yours to ribbons and then they’ll definitely eat you alive.” No time to explain to Rodney how he knew this; how he’d been a surfer, but truly terrified of sharks and had armed himself with this limited knowledge on the off chance that something this horrifying would actually come to pass.

“John, John, look.” Rodney was gesturing with the knife. “There,” he said. And John could see the faint outlines of something ridged and round on the opposite side, directly across from the door. “That’s what I was swimming to when Atlantis decided to reenact the Perfect Storm!”

“Now you tell me!” John groaned. He had no time to castigate McKay. There was no way they were going to be able to get past the sharks to see if it was a doorway or a hatch or something useful. They were going to die. This was absolutely it.

He could already feel the sharp bite of those enormous teeth in his gut, the tearing of his flesh, could see the shark’s black eye as it rolled heavenward with ecstasy as it devoured him.

“Use your mind, John, you idiot,” Rodney said. “Open it up!”

John flung a panicked prayer toward the circled ridges. To his immense surprise they began to move, sliding out from the wall, floating to him, green and smooth and… Atlantis. God he loved her.

It was a submarine.

It moved along the surface of the water and slipped past the swirling sharks. They were frothing in the blood, chewing the bits of the shark John had shot, working themselves into a frenzy. The submarine was sort of like a mini-puddle jumper and John could see the controls inside through a round window. It glided up to them smoothly and they quickly scrambled inside the hatch that opened for them on John’s silent plea.

There was room for one pilot up front, with a seat behind, and another round window at the back. There wasn’t enough room to stand, but they slumped easily into position and John closed the door behind them.

“Neat,” John said, settling into the driver’s seat. It was amazing how quickly his panic could subside when he was distracted by a new toy. Sometimes he wondered at himself.

“Amazing,” Rodney said, checking the computer diagnostics and flipping switches like he, too, was distracted from imminent death by this new development. John wondered at Rodney, too. They’d both probably fall apart later. Much later.

“We are so going for a ride in this thing, right the hell now.”

“Fuck yeah,” Rodney breathed behind him. “I want to put as much distance between me and those sharks as is humanly possible.”

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth?” John was trying the sub’s communication device, and almost immediately he heard Radek’s voice, sputtering, relieved, begging for an update. “Dr. McKay and I are fine. Do not, repeat, do not open the door and attempt to go for a swim. It’s shark season. We have commandeered Atlantis’ submarine and are back in communication. Prepare to receive data.” And he smiled when he heard the sounds of excitement from the gate room.

“John?” Elizabeth’s voice was assured as she spoke above the din, “The Athosians reported a wraith dart on the mainland. It was half-buried on a beach and has been there for a while. It seems that it crashed there during the attack on the city. That wraith appears to have been living there for some time, completely cut off. We may never know how he got from the beach into the belly of the beast, but it may be the closest we get to an answer.”

“Yes, yes, wonderful. Tell them to have blankets and hot cocoa ready on Pier 36,” Rodney said.

“I hear you Rodney. And I’m sure you know we can’t spare hot cocoa for just anyone.” Elizabeth had a smile in her voice as she signed off.

“Jacques Cousteau, signing off from Ocean Pod One,” John said, smirking. “Sure you’re okay?” he asked Rodney, trying to twist in his seat to look at him.

“Yes, actually, thanks for asking, I’m fine. I’m more than fine, really. It’s cozy in here.” Rodney had that hysterical tone to his voice that indicated he was running on pure adrenaline.

John piloted the sub around the perimeter of the lake, and then figured out how to submerge it. Through the windshield, they watched as the sharks split up and swam around, dispersing the blood and the remnants of their counterpart, their tails making blurry switchbacks in the shadows. John shuddered.

At the very bottom, once they’d lowered the sub all the way down, a round, gate-like opening appeared, and once they zipped through it, they were out in the open ocean, and from there, they bobbed to the surface like messages in a bottle.

Rodney babbled on and on about the valve system, how it could be controlled, how the sharks could be kept out, how they could better protect Atlantis, although death by shark was probably a fitting end for anyone trying to get in that way.

“And I’ll never again throw a laptop off the pier in anger,” Rodney vowed. “I don’t want to encourage these monsters.”

“I hate sharks,” John said.

“But you love Cabernet and long walks in the moonlight,” Rodney said, amusement plain in his voice.

“What? Rodney I never said...” John couldn’t swivel around to face him.

“Oh, don’t try to get out of it Colonel. I mean, John. We have a date. A date!”

And he sounded so happy that John swallowed his fear and just let it slide, hiding his smile and looking out over the beauty of Atlantis and the endless, mysterious ocean.

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From:

rokeon.livejournal.com

Tiny nitpick- you're missing a quote. "Deadly shark, John said.

Very good. And I love the dialogue, especially We are so going for a ride in this thing, right the hell now and “Jacques Cousteau, signing off. But all of it was good.

Lovely last line.

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