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sga_flashficTitle: “The Unkindest Cut” (3/5)
Authors: Everybetty and Kristen999
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through season 2. Specifically “Conversion”
Challenge: Sickness
Length: 24,400 words
Summary: CAUTION: The Pegasus Galaxy contains many dangers. Like football, giant space ostriches, and sharp edges.
Genre: H/C and Humor.
Notes: Made it in by the skin of our teeth! Want to thank the mods for extending the deadline. Once we heard about this challenge, Beth and I could not resist temptation.
BEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEP… BEEE-
John’s hand shot out and slapped the top of the alarm clock, silencing the insistent, annoying claxon. He groaned loud enough to practically shake the walls as he tried to roll over, pulling his arm back in under the warmth of the covers. He could feel each and every single one of the bruises on his body, courtesy of that really stupid idea of teaching Ronon football and the repeated throws he’d been subjected to during the training session afterwards. Not to mention the ache in his chest where he’d had a two hundred pound bird plant its foot.
Laying there, groggy, he quickly thought the room up a few more degrees, then a few more for good measure. Yesterday he’d been too freaking hot and now it felt like he’d spent the night in a meat freezer. With his eyes closed he snuggled back in under the covers, settling back in when his eyes flew open and he sat bolt straight up and let out a string of explosive sneezes.
Crap. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, there it was. Another freaking cold. This really bites, he muttered to himself as he threw back the covers and eased himself to sit up, legs over the side of the bed. He pulled his sweat-soaked t-shirt collar away from his neck, rubbing his sternum in an attempt to ease the ache there.
“Damn, I really wish this job came with sick days.”
Twenty minutes later, he’d showered and dressed in his jacket over his zip-up over his t-shirt and he felt mostly okay again. Just a little off. Watered down, like weak coffee. At least the day’s schedule was pretty light. Beckett wanted to check on the injured Mallomaran and John had agreed to fly him back out. Teyla and Ronon were coming along for the ride.
Rodney had opted out of the return visit seeing as how, regardless of how “nice” everyone was and, “yes, the eggs were delicious” but there really was no science there so this would be a good chance to run over some diagnostics with Zelenka “without anyone underfoot or bothering” him.
John entered the gate room to find Elizabeth and Rodney leaning against a console, cups of coffee in hand, sharing a conversation.
“Morning, Colonel,” Elizabeth said, raising her coffee cup. “Rodney was just telling me about your visit back to Mallomara. Looking for a re-match?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Funny,” John replied shortly.
“Well, I for one appreciate you taking me back, Colonel,” Carson said as he entered the room hefting his medbag. “Would like to see how the Tylenol is treating our young friend and check the status of his injury.”
“No problem, Doc. Teyla and Ronon will be joining us if you wanna go ahead and load into the jumper.”
“You expecting trouble on Planet Mallomar?”
“It’s MalLOWmara, McKay,” John said through clenched teeth. “And no, but unlike, oh say, YOU, they know there is no ‘I’ in team.”
“No, but there is a ‘me’ so I never really understood that particularly inane cliché. Besides, you don’t really need me there to watch Carson do his bones and feathers thing while you play Mr. Mom. Or perhaps you really are looking for another round of feathered fisticuffs?”
“Cram it, Rodney. I’m not in the mood.”
“No. No, I can see your heart’s not really in it. You’re usually a bit better at parrying than that oh, so scathing ‘cram it.’ Not really any fun for me this way-like shooting fish in a barrel. Elizabeth? Colonel? If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my lab. Have fun and bring back some eggs if you get a chance.”
Teyla and Ronon passed Rodney as he exited, wiggling his fingers at them in a hello-goodbye combo. John noticed the Satedan giving him an appraising look and he felt himself straightening and pasting on a hopefully not too fake appearing smile. The last thing he needed was the big guy making a comment within Beckett’s earshot.
The jumper loaded, the initial checks completed, John sat in the pilot’s seat as Ronon closed up the jumper’s rear door, readying to enter the gate.
He swallowed, wincing at the ache in his throat. And even with all the layers on and in the climate-controlled jumper he was still cold. And very much looking forward to the dry hot sunblasted planet’s surface. He could almost feel the rays being soaked up by the black material of his jacket, penetrating into his aching muscles, chasing away the chill that had settled into his bones. Good old sunshine- nature’s very own form of Vitamin D.
As the jumper hit the event horizon he was picturing opening up the back hatch and laying out in the sun. He just hoped he remembered his Ray Bans.
__________________________________________________________________
The jumper cleared the gate and John automatically began to squint, prepared for the blinding hot sun. What he wasn’t prepared for was the torrential downpour they found instead.
Rain pounded on the roof of the jumper and was an impenetrable screen in what passed for the jumper’s windshield. John quickly thought up a sensor array as he tried to remember where the tree line was and how high they had to go to clear the tops.
The force of the rains and a strong wind buffeted the tiny ship and Carson flashed him a worried look from the co-pilot’s seat.
“Looks like the rains they talked about came early, doc. Let’s go see how they’re faring back at the village.”
A few maneuvers later the jumper swooped over the forest and headed towards the valley clearing where the cluster of huts had been just the two days before. Now the trails they’d walked on, kicking up clouds of dust, were a river of frothy tan water and silt.
John settled the jumper into the clearing, mud splashing up in milky coffee colored waves. The storm outside was whipping up, the sound of the rain on the metal hull deafening.
“Stay here, doc!” John shouted over the din. “We’ll make a quick sweep of the village and be right back.”
The hatch opened and an icy wind whipped in with the rain.
“Teyla, Ronon! One sweep of the huts and back! You ready?” John bellowed then signaled the ‘go’ with their familiar hand signs.
The three members of the team headed out into the deluge, John immediately heading for the hut where Tiarna and her family had lived and Ronon and Teyla splitting off to search the others.
The thatch roofed little hovel had been no match for the torrential rains and howling winds. The walls had collapsed in on each other and John was able to knock one away, poking his head inside and under. The table where they’d eaten together was still there, clay plates abandoned at their places. Something glinted in a flash of lightning and he bent to skein his fingers through the mud, pulling up the foil wrapper of a power bar.
It became quickly obvious there was no sign that anyone was still there and the walls were shifting disconcertingly under the powerful gusts so he backed back out and headed for the remains of the other homes. He tapped at his earpiece, rewarded with a blast of static as another lighting flash lit the iron grey sky. After the rumble-crack of thunder that followed it he shouted for the two warriors, wiping water from his eyes as he ducked into one deserted, collapsing hut after another, team, soaked to the skin and icy cold to his marrow. He breathed a sigh of relief as the outlines of his teammates revealed themselves from within the screen of rain.
John saw them both shake their heads at the unasked question if they’d found anyone and thrust his fist in the air and signaled retreat, ordering them all back to the jumper.
The three practically fell into the back as Teyla fought to pull the hatch down, Ronon finally lending a hand as the winds caught at the door. They lay huddled in spreading puddles on the floor of the jumper, breathing heavily, then John heaved himself to his feet and settled back into the pilot seat, tremors of cold wracking his body.
“So m-much for the s-s-sun tan I was h-hoping for,” he managed to stammer out between chattering teeth. “They m-must’ve taken to the hills. I’ll m-make a quick sweep of the area. If they g-got taken by surprise, I wanna make sure they all made it to shelter.”
Carson eyed up the team, all soaked and dripping, looking like drowned rats.
“Do you have any extra clothing on board, Colonel? You should all change into something dry.”
“Not much use t-to it, Doc, if we’re just gonna get wet again,” John said with a smile. “Don’t w-worry, Carson. I promise we’ll make it qui-” Only it ended in a hacking cough.
“Oh, for the love of - how long have ya had the cough, Colonel?”
“Just got rainwater down my throat, Doc,” he rasped through his increasingly sore throat. John quickly cast a dark look at Ronon, the bigger man crossing his arms over his chest but remaining mute.
“Look, we’ll scan the hills, check to make sure everyone made it to safety, then I’ll promise you I’ll do the whole bed and fluids and chicken soup thing when we get back, okay?”
“I am worried about them,” Carson said with a sigh. “Especially what with Tiarna’s wee little bairns and her brother’s bad shoulder.”
“See? So its ag-greed.” Before Carson could summon up any objections John lifted the jumper free of the mud and pointed it towards the hills.
The tree tops began to rise with the topography and thickened. Carson leaned close to the windshield, peering out into the storm. “I can’t see a bloody thing out there, Colonel!”
“That’s why we have the LSD, doc,” John said with a smile as he summoned up the HUD. A small cluster of glowing lights formed in one area of the map. But not up in the highest ground as expected but in an area that would put them at the foot of the hills - no … actually INTO the hills.
“Looks like a series of underground caves,” John mused. “They must hole up in them when the rains come. It’s only a mile or so from here - I’ll get us in as close as I can.”
“Just try not to put us into the side of a hill, Colonel.”
__________________________________________________________________
John set the jumper down at the foot of one of the tallest and broadest hills. Rain was cascading down the hillside in mini-Niagaras, the loose, dry soil and yellowed grasses doing little to soak up the overflow. There was another flash of lightning, this one much brighter, and followed quickly by a crack of thunder that had them all flinching.
The LSD showed life signs approximately one hundred feet up and another hundred feet into the side of the hill but there was no sign of where the entrance was.
“Colonel,” Teyla spoke up from her seat, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them trying to stay warm. “I’m sure if the Mallomarans are used to the rains coming that they must have found a place of safety.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree,” Carson said with a sigh. “I know you’d like to know for sure that they are safe, Colonel, as would I, but I don’t know how wise it would be to head out into this storm. You don’t even know where the bloody entrance is!”
John gave careful consideration to their words. He was cold, tired, and feeling crappier by the minute. Every time he shivered the ache in his muscles seemed to dig in deeper and he would literally give a limb for a pot of hot coffee, a handful of Tylenol and a blanket. No, two blankets. He looked over at the silent member of the group.
“Ronon? Whatdya think, big guy?”
The Satedan wasn’t shivering, but there was a tenseness to his body that spoke of him using great control to keep it that way. “I could take a quick look- see if I can find the entrance. Make sure everyone’s okay.” He shrugged. “No need for all of us to head back out.” And he looked rather pointedly at John.
John chose to ignore the underlying meaning to Ronon’s comment and unfolded himself from the pilot’s seat, fighting to keep his hand at his side instead of rubbing at his chest as it wanted to.
“If we both go it’ll make it faster. We can clear more ground that way. Twenty minutes- that’s it. You find anything, try the radios. We might be able to see the flash from your gun so try that as a back up. If you get no answer or you don’t see a flash in reply? You hightail it back to the jumper. You got me?” he emphasized as Ronon began bristling, readying for a retort.
“Yeah, I got you,” Ronon practically growled.
John readied himself for the icy blast he knew was coming as he prepared to open the hatch once more when he realized Teyla was standing beside him.
“If we follow your logic, Colonel, then three would make it even faster.”
John flashed her a grateful smile, then turned to shout over his shoulder. “Keep the heat running, Carson! We’ll be back in a bit.” He shoved the door open, the arm practically ripped from his shoulder as the wind caught the hatch and pulled it open as if with a giant, unseen hand. Rain struck him like a volley of stinging pellets and he jumped out to splash knee high into the floodwaters, his teammates right behind him.
__________________________________________________________________
John’s fingers dug into the soft mud and it oozed around his fingers like cake batter. He was about a hundred feet up by his best guesstimation and should be right outside where the LSD had picked up the life signs of those he assumed to be the villagers. His foot slipped for the twentieth time, his knees slamming into the hillside as he scrambled for purchase.
The water was running in a solid stream over his face, and he had to spit and sputter frequently to clear the water from his mouth. One attempt at keeping his mouth shut and breathing through his nose had rewarded him with a snortful of rain that had him hacking until he saw stars. His fingers had long gone completely numb and he had torn several fingernails on the rocks left behind as the soil washed free.
Just as he was cursing himself for the wild goose chase and wiping the water from his wristwatch to check the time another bolt of lightning brightened the sky to a sickly yellow long enough for him to see a darker area about fifty feet away to his right.
Afraid to move his eyes from where he’d seen the shadow he ignored the watch, mentally calculating how much time he’d allotted. It was about time, according to his own orders, for him to head back. But he was so damn close.
Clinging like a barnacle to the hillside he crawled his way over to the right, toes scrambling to find a hold in the rapidly deteriorating ground beneath him. His hands landed on a rocky shelf and his ragged and bloodied fingers latched onto it, trying to haul his body up onto it. His arms were trembling, his body completely worn out and he felt himself begin to slip. He let out a cry and resigned himself to a bumpy, skin shredding ride down the side of the hill when he felt a steel band wrap itself around his wrist and begin to haul him up.
________________________________________________________________
John lay sprawled on the stony floor, the rains a solid sheet behind him, as if they were behind a waterfall. He gasped for breath, not an ounce of energy left, his body trembling with cold and exhaustion. As it slowly dawned on him that he wasn’t a pile of broken bones at the bottom of the hill he looked up and into the eyes of Tiarna’s husband.
“We only saw you in the last storm flash,” the man said, holding out a hand that John took gratefully as he hauled himself up enough to sit up, leaning back on his hands. His breath still plumed out of him in silver bursts of vapor.
So he does talk.
“Yeah. I uh, came to offer help,” John said, a lopsided grin curling his lips as he realized who’d wound up needing the aid.
“The rains came earlier than we expected,” the man said stonily. “We almost did not make it to the sheltering place in time.” He turned his head towards the back of the large cave.
Tiarna sat against the wall, surrounded by baskets filled with provisions. The baby was in her wicker carrier and her older children flanked her on each side, sitting with shell-shocked looks on their faces. The smallest boy was in his mother’s lap, bawling hysterically while Tiarna held him, rocking the small body close to her as she cried with him.
“What’s wrong with Japeth?”
“He fell as we were making our way up the hill. His leg is badly injured.”
John planted a hand on the cold ground and pushed himself up to his knees. Walking wasn’t really an option yet and the roof of the cavern was low anyway as evidenced by the way Tiarna’s husband was stooped over. He knee-walked over to Tiarna’s side and she turned to look at him, her face red from crying, tears covering her soft, round cheeks.
“Hey, Japeth,” John said softly. “Hey, buddy. You hurt your leg?”
The toddler removed his face from his mother’s bosom long enough to take a breath and look at John. He nodded shortly then his face crumpled as his crying began anew.
John moved Tiarna’s skirt away from where it covered the boy, revealing a small, skinny tanned set of legs, one of which was obviously broken.
“Do you have anything we can splint it with?” John asked, touching Tiarna’s arm to bring her attention back to him. “Tiarna? If we can splint Japeth’s leg, Dr. Beckett is down in the jumper. We can fix his leg, but I need to take him back down with me.”
John tapped his earpiece but got nothing but static again. “Tiarna, secure his leg as best you can. We’ll secure him to my back and I’ll take him back down with me so the doc can fix him up. How long do the rains last?”
“Several turns of the sun, usually. There are longer breaks between the storms. That’s how we know they are ending.”
“Well, we can bring him back after the rains have slowed. I’ll take good care of him, I promise,” he said, holding her eyes with his. She looked to her husband who nodded shortly at her and she allowed a small smile, wiping a hand over her sodden lip. “Dr. Beckett took good care of Jonlar. Please ask him to do the same for my boy.”
__________________________________________________________________
John fired another pulse from his stunner out the entrance of the cave, the bolt of blue shining brightly against the dark. He could only hope that the team saw it as he saw no answering red from Ronon’s gun.
The boy had been strapped securely onto his back with some of the leather straps the men of the village had worn and his crying had quieted somewhat after the trauma of applying the splint had passed.
John shifted the boy a bit to ease the pressure on his shoulders and where the straps dug into his sternum, then gave a reassuring look to the boy’s parent’s who stared at him, white-lipped with worry. As he dropped below the lip of the shelf he saw Tiarna fall into her husband’s waiting arms, sobbing horribly.
Japeth’s fingers clenched in the neck of John’s shirt as the boy buried his face into his back. The rains were just as hard but at least the lightning seemed to have passed by while they were in the cave.
“Hang on, buddy!” John shouted, reaching back to squeeze the toddler’s arm. “We’ll be down before you know it.”
They made their way down, John picking his way slowly but steadily down the hill, the lightweight load on his back still enough to pull his balance off. He clung to knotted plant roots and stones, his boots digging into the soft mud, his knees acting almost as a second set of feet.
Approximately fifty feet still from the ground he was seized by a bout of coughing and he flattened his body to the hillside, hugging the ground as his chest exploded in agony. He felt a small tapping on his back and he realized it was the boy‘s hand, trying to ease his coughing as his mother must have done.
“Thanks, buddy,” John rasped out when he caught his breath. His throat was on fire and it felt like his chest was being squeezed in a vice. He was exhausted, frozen to the core, and had a small life he was now responsible for. John could feel the boy’s warmth through his layers of sopping clothing and it gave him the strength he needed to start again.
Rising to his hands and knees, John began once more to make their way down to the ground. Slip sliding his way down, half sledding on his stomach, the knees of his BDUs ripped open, John risked a quick look over his shoulder.
There. In the light of a lingering lightning flash, he caught the glint of metal. The jumper. Closer than he would’ve ever thought possible. The sight lent him a last meager burst of adrenaline and he uttered a shaky curse of relief as he felt his feet touch the bottom. He lurched his way over to the jumper and fell against the hatch, lifting a weary hand to pound on the hull.
Seconds later the back opened and his team piled out, their expressions mixed anger and relief. Strong hands wrapped around his bicep while an arm wrapped around his waist and he was bodily hauled into the jumper where he found he had to sprawl out on his stomach due to the toddler’s position on his back.
He felt fingers undoing the straps and then the small warm body was lifted from his.
“Bloody hell, Colonel!” Carson spluttered, the first to speak what they were probably all thinking. “What happened to twenty minutes? We were worried sick about you!”
“The boy,” John gasped out between heaving breaths. “Broken leg… knew you couldn’t get up … rest are okay.”
Teyla held the boy in her arms and Carson checked out the splint and the leg beneath it, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s dripping hair and wipe the water from his face. “Poor wee bairn’s cold as ice,” he tutted, pulling out one of the foil emergency blankets that Teyla and Ronon were already wrapped in.
“Here, lass. Not much to be done til we’re back in Atlantis. Try to wrap him up and keep him close. And you,” Carson continued, wheeling around to see that John still lay sprawled on the floor. “Colonel?” he asked, stopping himself before the lecture could begin. “Are ya hurt?”
John closed his eyes, not even enough breath left to answer.
“Och! Of course you are,” Carson muttered. He grabbed John’s arm as if to turn him over and gasped. A cool hand was placed on John’s cheek and Carson’s face deepened in a scowl. “You’re burnin’ up with fever. Probably the only reason you haven’t succumbed to hypothermia. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
John forced himself to open bleary eyes. Carson was on his knees next to John’s head, bent over, his face close, brow knitted with concern. John shook his head, then began coughing, letting out a seal-like bark. His chest rapped against the steel floor with every cough until Ronon reached over and hooked a meaty paw into his jacket and rolled him over onto his back.
“Thanks,” John managed to get out before another coughing jag seized him. He could feel his lungs struggling to bring in air and his vision started to blur at the edges.
“Can’t… breathe… so good,” he panted, his hand rubbing at his sternum. He felt an oxygen mask being fit over his face just as the grey closed in.
Authors: Everybetty and Kristen999
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through season 2. Specifically “Conversion”
Challenge: Sickness
Length: 24,400 words
Summary: CAUTION: The Pegasus Galaxy contains many dangers. Like football, giant space ostriches, and sharp edges.
Genre: H/C and Humor.
Notes: Made it in by the skin of our teeth! Want to thank the mods for extending the deadline. Once we heard about this challenge, Beth and I could not resist temptation.
BEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEP. BEEEEEEEP… BEEE-
John’s hand shot out and slapped the top of the alarm clock, silencing the insistent, annoying claxon. He groaned loud enough to practically shake the walls as he tried to roll over, pulling his arm back in under the warmth of the covers. He could feel each and every single one of the bruises on his body, courtesy of that really stupid idea of teaching Ronon football and the repeated throws he’d been subjected to during the training session afterwards. Not to mention the ache in his chest where he’d had a two hundred pound bird plant its foot.
Laying there, groggy, he quickly thought the room up a few more degrees, then a few more for good measure. Yesterday he’d been too freaking hot and now it felt like he’d spent the night in a meat freezer. With his eyes closed he snuggled back in under the covers, settling back in when his eyes flew open and he sat bolt straight up and let out a string of explosive sneezes.
Crap. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, there it was. Another freaking cold. This really bites, he muttered to himself as he threw back the covers and eased himself to sit up, legs over the side of the bed. He pulled his sweat-soaked t-shirt collar away from his neck, rubbing his sternum in an attempt to ease the ache there.
“Damn, I really wish this job came with sick days.”
Twenty minutes later, he’d showered and dressed in his jacket over his zip-up over his t-shirt and he felt mostly okay again. Just a little off. Watered down, like weak coffee. At least the day’s schedule was pretty light. Beckett wanted to check on the injured Mallomaran and John had agreed to fly him back out. Teyla and Ronon were coming along for the ride.
Rodney had opted out of the return visit seeing as how, regardless of how “nice” everyone was and, “yes, the eggs were delicious” but there really was no science there so this would be a good chance to run over some diagnostics with Zelenka “without anyone underfoot or bothering” him.
John entered the gate room to find Elizabeth and Rodney leaning against a console, cups of coffee in hand, sharing a conversation.
“Morning, Colonel,” Elizabeth said, raising her coffee cup. “Rodney was just telling me about your visit back to Mallomara. Looking for a re-match?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Funny,” John replied shortly.
“Well, I for one appreciate you taking me back, Colonel,” Carson said as he entered the room hefting his medbag. “Would like to see how the Tylenol is treating our young friend and check the status of his injury.”
“No problem, Doc. Teyla and Ronon will be joining us if you wanna go ahead and load into the jumper.”
“You expecting trouble on Planet Mallomar?”
“It’s MalLOWmara, McKay,” John said through clenched teeth. “And no, but unlike, oh say, YOU, they know there is no ‘I’ in team.”
“No, but there is a ‘me’ so I never really understood that particularly inane cliché. Besides, you don’t really need me there to watch Carson do his bones and feathers thing while you play Mr. Mom. Or perhaps you really are looking for another round of feathered fisticuffs?”
“Cram it, Rodney. I’m not in the mood.”
“No. No, I can see your heart’s not really in it. You’re usually a bit better at parrying than that oh, so scathing ‘cram it.’ Not really any fun for me this way-like shooting fish in a barrel. Elizabeth? Colonel? If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my lab. Have fun and bring back some eggs if you get a chance.”
Teyla and Ronon passed Rodney as he exited, wiggling his fingers at them in a hello-goodbye combo. John noticed the Satedan giving him an appraising look and he felt himself straightening and pasting on a hopefully not too fake appearing smile. The last thing he needed was the big guy making a comment within Beckett’s earshot.
The jumper loaded, the initial checks completed, John sat in the pilot’s seat as Ronon closed up the jumper’s rear door, readying to enter the gate.
He swallowed, wincing at the ache in his throat. And even with all the layers on and in the climate-controlled jumper he was still cold. And very much looking forward to the dry hot sunblasted planet’s surface. He could almost feel the rays being soaked up by the black material of his jacket, penetrating into his aching muscles, chasing away the chill that had settled into his bones. Good old sunshine- nature’s very own form of Vitamin D.
As the jumper hit the event horizon he was picturing opening up the back hatch and laying out in the sun. He just hoped he remembered his Ray Bans.
__________________________________________________________________
The jumper cleared the gate and John automatically began to squint, prepared for the blinding hot sun. What he wasn’t prepared for was the torrential downpour they found instead.
Rain pounded on the roof of the jumper and was an impenetrable screen in what passed for the jumper’s windshield. John quickly thought up a sensor array as he tried to remember where the tree line was and how high they had to go to clear the tops.
The force of the rains and a strong wind buffeted the tiny ship and Carson flashed him a worried look from the co-pilot’s seat.
“Looks like the rains they talked about came early, doc. Let’s go see how they’re faring back at the village.”
A few maneuvers later the jumper swooped over the forest and headed towards the valley clearing where the cluster of huts had been just the two days before. Now the trails they’d walked on, kicking up clouds of dust, were a river of frothy tan water and silt.
John settled the jumper into the clearing, mud splashing up in milky coffee colored waves. The storm outside was whipping up, the sound of the rain on the metal hull deafening.
“Stay here, doc!” John shouted over the din. “We’ll make a quick sweep of the village and be right back.”
The hatch opened and an icy wind whipped in with the rain.
“Teyla, Ronon! One sweep of the huts and back! You ready?” John bellowed then signaled the ‘go’ with their familiar hand signs.
The three members of the team headed out into the deluge, John immediately heading for the hut where Tiarna and her family had lived and Ronon and Teyla splitting off to search the others.
The thatch roofed little hovel had been no match for the torrential rains and howling winds. The walls had collapsed in on each other and John was able to knock one away, poking his head inside and under. The table where they’d eaten together was still there, clay plates abandoned at their places. Something glinted in a flash of lightning and he bent to skein his fingers through the mud, pulling up the foil wrapper of a power bar.
It became quickly obvious there was no sign that anyone was still there and the walls were shifting disconcertingly under the powerful gusts so he backed back out and headed for the remains of the other homes. He tapped at his earpiece, rewarded with a blast of static as another lighting flash lit the iron grey sky. After the rumble-crack of thunder that followed it he shouted for the two warriors, wiping water from his eyes as he ducked into one deserted, collapsing hut after another, team, soaked to the skin and icy cold to his marrow. He breathed a sigh of relief as the outlines of his teammates revealed themselves from within the screen of rain.
John saw them both shake their heads at the unasked question if they’d found anyone and thrust his fist in the air and signaled retreat, ordering them all back to the jumper.
The three practically fell into the back as Teyla fought to pull the hatch down, Ronon finally lending a hand as the winds caught at the door. They lay huddled in spreading puddles on the floor of the jumper, breathing heavily, then John heaved himself to his feet and settled back into the pilot seat, tremors of cold wracking his body.
“So m-much for the s-s-sun tan I was h-hoping for,” he managed to stammer out between chattering teeth. “They m-must’ve taken to the hills. I’ll m-make a quick sweep of the area. If they g-got taken by surprise, I wanna make sure they all made it to shelter.”
Carson eyed up the team, all soaked and dripping, looking like drowned rats.
“Do you have any extra clothing on board, Colonel? You should all change into something dry.”
“Not much use t-to it, Doc, if we’re just gonna get wet again,” John said with a smile. “Don’t w-worry, Carson. I promise we’ll make it qui-” Only it ended in a hacking cough.
“Oh, for the love of - how long have ya had the cough, Colonel?”
“Just got rainwater down my throat, Doc,” he rasped through his increasingly sore throat. John quickly cast a dark look at Ronon, the bigger man crossing his arms over his chest but remaining mute.
“Look, we’ll scan the hills, check to make sure everyone made it to safety, then I’ll promise you I’ll do the whole bed and fluids and chicken soup thing when we get back, okay?”
“I am worried about them,” Carson said with a sigh. “Especially what with Tiarna’s wee little bairns and her brother’s bad shoulder.”
“See? So its ag-greed.” Before Carson could summon up any objections John lifted the jumper free of the mud and pointed it towards the hills.
The tree tops began to rise with the topography and thickened. Carson leaned close to the windshield, peering out into the storm. “I can’t see a bloody thing out there, Colonel!”
“That’s why we have the LSD, doc,” John said with a smile as he summoned up the HUD. A small cluster of glowing lights formed in one area of the map. But not up in the highest ground as expected but in an area that would put them at the foot of the hills - no … actually INTO the hills.
“Looks like a series of underground caves,” John mused. “They must hole up in them when the rains come. It’s only a mile or so from here - I’ll get us in as close as I can.”
“Just try not to put us into the side of a hill, Colonel.”
__________________________________________________________________
John set the jumper down at the foot of one of the tallest and broadest hills. Rain was cascading down the hillside in mini-Niagaras, the loose, dry soil and yellowed grasses doing little to soak up the overflow. There was another flash of lightning, this one much brighter, and followed quickly by a crack of thunder that had them all flinching.
The LSD showed life signs approximately one hundred feet up and another hundred feet into the side of the hill but there was no sign of where the entrance was.
“Colonel,” Teyla spoke up from her seat, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them trying to stay warm. “I’m sure if the Mallomarans are used to the rains coming that they must have found a place of safety.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree,” Carson said with a sigh. “I know you’d like to know for sure that they are safe, Colonel, as would I, but I don’t know how wise it would be to head out into this storm. You don’t even know where the bloody entrance is!”
John gave careful consideration to their words. He was cold, tired, and feeling crappier by the minute. Every time he shivered the ache in his muscles seemed to dig in deeper and he would literally give a limb for a pot of hot coffee, a handful of Tylenol and a blanket. No, two blankets. He looked over at the silent member of the group.
“Ronon? Whatdya think, big guy?”
The Satedan wasn’t shivering, but there was a tenseness to his body that spoke of him using great control to keep it that way. “I could take a quick look- see if I can find the entrance. Make sure everyone’s okay.” He shrugged. “No need for all of us to head back out.” And he looked rather pointedly at John.
John chose to ignore the underlying meaning to Ronon’s comment and unfolded himself from the pilot’s seat, fighting to keep his hand at his side instead of rubbing at his chest as it wanted to.
“If we both go it’ll make it faster. We can clear more ground that way. Twenty minutes- that’s it. You find anything, try the radios. We might be able to see the flash from your gun so try that as a back up. If you get no answer or you don’t see a flash in reply? You hightail it back to the jumper. You got me?” he emphasized as Ronon began bristling, readying for a retort.
“Yeah, I got you,” Ronon practically growled.
John readied himself for the icy blast he knew was coming as he prepared to open the hatch once more when he realized Teyla was standing beside him.
“If we follow your logic, Colonel, then three would make it even faster.”
John flashed her a grateful smile, then turned to shout over his shoulder. “Keep the heat running, Carson! We’ll be back in a bit.” He shoved the door open, the arm practically ripped from his shoulder as the wind caught the hatch and pulled it open as if with a giant, unseen hand. Rain struck him like a volley of stinging pellets and he jumped out to splash knee high into the floodwaters, his teammates right behind him.
__________________________________________________________________
John’s fingers dug into the soft mud and it oozed around his fingers like cake batter. He was about a hundred feet up by his best guesstimation and should be right outside where the LSD had picked up the life signs of those he assumed to be the villagers. His foot slipped for the twentieth time, his knees slamming into the hillside as he scrambled for purchase.
The water was running in a solid stream over his face, and he had to spit and sputter frequently to clear the water from his mouth. One attempt at keeping his mouth shut and breathing through his nose had rewarded him with a snortful of rain that had him hacking until he saw stars. His fingers had long gone completely numb and he had torn several fingernails on the rocks left behind as the soil washed free.
Just as he was cursing himself for the wild goose chase and wiping the water from his wristwatch to check the time another bolt of lightning brightened the sky to a sickly yellow long enough for him to see a darker area about fifty feet away to his right.
Afraid to move his eyes from where he’d seen the shadow he ignored the watch, mentally calculating how much time he’d allotted. It was about time, according to his own orders, for him to head back. But he was so damn close.
Clinging like a barnacle to the hillside he crawled his way over to the right, toes scrambling to find a hold in the rapidly deteriorating ground beneath him. His hands landed on a rocky shelf and his ragged and bloodied fingers latched onto it, trying to haul his body up onto it. His arms were trembling, his body completely worn out and he felt himself begin to slip. He let out a cry and resigned himself to a bumpy, skin shredding ride down the side of the hill when he felt a steel band wrap itself around his wrist and begin to haul him up.
________________________________________________________________
John lay sprawled on the stony floor, the rains a solid sheet behind him, as if they were behind a waterfall. He gasped for breath, not an ounce of energy left, his body trembling with cold and exhaustion. As it slowly dawned on him that he wasn’t a pile of broken bones at the bottom of the hill he looked up and into the eyes of Tiarna’s husband.
“We only saw you in the last storm flash,” the man said, holding out a hand that John took gratefully as he hauled himself up enough to sit up, leaning back on his hands. His breath still plumed out of him in silver bursts of vapor.
So he does talk.
“Yeah. I uh, came to offer help,” John said, a lopsided grin curling his lips as he realized who’d wound up needing the aid.
“The rains came earlier than we expected,” the man said stonily. “We almost did not make it to the sheltering place in time.” He turned his head towards the back of the large cave.
Tiarna sat against the wall, surrounded by baskets filled with provisions. The baby was in her wicker carrier and her older children flanked her on each side, sitting with shell-shocked looks on their faces. The smallest boy was in his mother’s lap, bawling hysterically while Tiarna held him, rocking the small body close to her as she cried with him.
“What’s wrong with Japeth?”
“He fell as we were making our way up the hill. His leg is badly injured.”
John planted a hand on the cold ground and pushed himself up to his knees. Walking wasn’t really an option yet and the roof of the cavern was low anyway as evidenced by the way Tiarna’s husband was stooped over. He knee-walked over to Tiarna’s side and she turned to look at him, her face red from crying, tears covering her soft, round cheeks.
“Hey, Japeth,” John said softly. “Hey, buddy. You hurt your leg?”
The toddler removed his face from his mother’s bosom long enough to take a breath and look at John. He nodded shortly then his face crumpled as his crying began anew.
John moved Tiarna’s skirt away from where it covered the boy, revealing a small, skinny tanned set of legs, one of which was obviously broken.
“Do you have anything we can splint it with?” John asked, touching Tiarna’s arm to bring her attention back to him. “Tiarna? If we can splint Japeth’s leg, Dr. Beckett is down in the jumper. We can fix his leg, but I need to take him back down with me.”
John tapped his earpiece but got nothing but static again. “Tiarna, secure his leg as best you can. We’ll secure him to my back and I’ll take him back down with me so the doc can fix him up. How long do the rains last?”
“Several turns of the sun, usually. There are longer breaks between the storms. That’s how we know they are ending.”
“Well, we can bring him back after the rains have slowed. I’ll take good care of him, I promise,” he said, holding her eyes with his. She looked to her husband who nodded shortly at her and she allowed a small smile, wiping a hand over her sodden lip. “Dr. Beckett took good care of Jonlar. Please ask him to do the same for my boy.”
__________________________________________________________________
John fired another pulse from his stunner out the entrance of the cave, the bolt of blue shining brightly against the dark. He could only hope that the team saw it as he saw no answering red from Ronon’s gun.
The boy had been strapped securely onto his back with some of the leather straps the men of the village had worn and his crying had quieted somewhat after the trauma of applying the splint had passed.
John shifted the boy a bit to ease the pressure on his shoulders and where the straps dug into his sternum, then gave a reassuring look to the boy’s parent’s who stared at him, white-lipped with worry. As he dropped below the lip of the shelf he saw Tiarna fall into her husband’s waiting arms, sobbing horribly.
Japeth’s fingers clenched in the neck of John’s shirt as the boy buried his face into his back. The rains were just as hard but at least the lightning seemed to have passed by while they were in the cave.
“Hang on, buddy!” John shouted, reaching back to squeeze the toddler’s arm. “We’ll be down before you know it.”
They made their way down, John picking his way slowly but steadily down the hill, the lightweight load on his back still enough to pull his balance off. He clung to knotted plant roots and stones, his boots digging into the soft mud, his knees acting almost as a second set of feet.
Approximately fifty feet still from the ground he was seized by a bout of coughing and he flattened his body to the hillside, hugging the ground as his chest exploded in agony. He felt a small tapping on his back and he realized it was the boy‘s hand, trying to ease his coughing as his mother must have done.
“Thanks, buddy,” John rasped out when he caught his breath. His throat was on fire and it felt like his chest was being squeezed in a vice. He was exhausted, frozen to the core, and had a small life he was now responsible for. John could feel the boy’s warmth through his layers of sopping clothing and it gave him the strength he needed to start again.
Rising to his hands and knees, John began once more to make their way down to the ground. Slip sliding his way down, half sledding on his stomach, the knees of his BDUs ripped open, John risked a quick look over his shoulder.
There. In the light of a lingering lightning flash, he caught the glint of metal. The jumper. Closer than he would’ve ever thought possible. The sight lent him a last meager burst of adrenaline and he uttered a shaky curse of relief as he felt his feet touch the bottom. He lurched his way over to the jumper and fell against the hatch, lifting a weary hand to pound on the hull.
Seconds later the back opened and his team piled out, their expressions mixed anger and relief. Strong hands wrapped around his bicep while an arm wrapped around his waist and he was bodily hauled into the jumper where he found he had to sprawl out on his stomach due to the toddler’s position on his back.
He felt fingers undoing the straps and then the small warm body was lifted from his.
“Bloody hell, Colonel!” Carson spluttered, the first to speak what they were probably all thinking. “What happened to twenty minutes? We were worried sick about you!”
“The boy,” John gasped out between heaving breaths. “Broken leg… knew you couldn’t get up … rest are okay.”
Teyla held the boy in her arms and Carson checked out the splint and the leg beneath it, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s dripping hair and wipe the water from his face. “Poor wee bairn’s cold as ice,” he tutted, pulling out one of the foil emergency blankets that Teyla and Ronon were already wrapped in.
“Here, lass. Not much to be done til we’re back in Atlantis. Try to wrap him up and keep him close. And you,” Carson continued, wheeling around to see that John still lay sprawled on the floor. “Colonel?” he asked, stopping himself before the lecture could begin. “Are ya hurt?”
John closed his eyes, not even enough breath left to answer.
“Och! Of course you are,” Carson muttered. He grabbed John’s arm as if to turn him over and gasped. A cool hand was placed on John’s cheek and Carson’s face deepened in a scowl. “You’re burnin’ up with fever. Probably the only reason you haven’t succumbed to hypothermia. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
John forced himself to open bleary eyes. Carson was on his knees next to John’s head, bent over, his face close, brow knitted with concern. John shook his head, then began coughing, letting out a seal-like bark. His chest rapped against the steel floor with every cough until Ronon reached over and hooked a meaty paw into his jacket and rolled him over onto his back.
“Thanks,” John managed to get out before another coughing jag seized him. He could feel his lungs struggling to bring in air and his vision started to blur at the edges.
“Can’t… breathe… so good,” he panted, his hand rubbing at his sternum. He felt an oxygen mask being fit over his face just as the grey closed in.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-02-25 10:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-02-26 12:06 am (UTC)