|
Rodney
stood in
the
doorway,
gazing
after
John
until he
was long
gone.
Only the
rumbling
of his
stomach
finally
roused
him, and
he
glared
at the
little
green
device
on his
chest,
hating
it.
"I'm
starving,"
he told
it
reproachfully.
"And
I've
just
pissed
off the
best
thing
that
ever
happened
to me
and both
of those
things
are your
fault."
He went
and sat
down on
the bed,
needing
to think
this
through
– which
would
have
been
easier
if he
wasn't
so damn
hungry.
He
honestly
hadn't
meant to
let John
think he
was
responsible
for the
shield –
he was
the best
top
Rodney
had ever
known
but then
that was
part of
the
problem.
Rodney
had
never
expected
to fall
in love,
and it
didn't
fit into
the
plans
he’d
always
had for
himself
and his
life. He
simply
had no
frame of
reference
for it –
he
didn’t
even
know
what he
was
feeling,
just
that he
was
extremely
confused.
And now,
to make
things
worse,
he
either
had to
decide
he was
in the
relationship
or end
it –
because
the only
alternative
was
starving
to death
and he
wasn't
particularly
keen on
that as
an
option.
Rodney
glanced
around
the room
– it was
so neat
and tidy
– so
*John*,
with the
Johnny
Cash
poster
hanging
on the
wall,
and the
copy of
'War and
Peace'
on the
nightstand,
next to
the
photo of
John's
parents.
Rodney
wondered
what,
apart
from
fantastic
sex, he
and John
had in
common.
He had
no
interest
in
Tolstoy
and had
never
listened
to a
Johnny
Cash
song in
his
life.
Besides,
he was a
scientist
and John
was in
the
military
–
although
even
Rodney
had to
concede
that
John was
surprisingly
smart
for a
knucklehead.
"I do
want
him," he
told the
shield,
gazing
at it
pathetically.
It
didn't
even
fade the
tiniest
bit.
Rodney
sighed.
"How can
I
convince
you?" he
asked
it.
He
remembered
what
John had
said
about
that
warm,
sweet
energy
that
flowed
between
them
when
they
were
having
sex, and
he knew
exactly
what
John
meant
about it
being
interrupted
now they
were no
longer
able to
touch.
His
fingers
longed
to feel
John's
skin
again –
but
somehow
that
wasn't
enough
to
overcome
his
inner
fears.
Rodney
decided
to do
what he
did best
in any
circumstances
relating
to his
emotional
life –
he went
back to
work,
and
tried to
ignore
it. It
was
impossible
to
ignore
his
physical
condition
though –
he was
hungry
and
thirsty,
and he
was
dreading
his
hypoglycaemia
kicking
in.
He gave
up after
an hour
or so –
his
brain
was too
fuzzy to
work,
and he
kept
making
mistakes.
He had
to *do*
something.
He
wandered
along
the
hallway
to the
rest
room
where
his lab
staff
often
went to
take
coffee
breaks;
he could
at least
smell
the
coffee
even if
he
couldn't
taste
it.
He found
Miko
sitting
there,
sipping
a cup of
green
tea
while
flipping
through
some
schematics
on her
laptop.
One of
her
subs, a
sweet,
pretty
botanist
who he
thought
was
called
Katie
Brown,
was
kneeling
at
Miko's
feet,
reading
a
magazine.
Miko
gazed up
at him
with
adoring
brown
eyes as
he
entered.
She
seemed
to have
some
kind of
a crush
on his
brain,
Rodney
had
decided
– she
always
looked
at him
dotingly
whenever
he was
being
particularly
brilliant,
and he
enjoyed
it far
too much
to
discourage
it. He
had
occasionally
wondered
how
someone
so
seemingly
meek and
mild
could be
such a
demon
top that
she had
attracted
three
subs,
but it
was well
known
around
the base
that she
had two
botanists
and one
marine
in her
little
harem.
She'd
earned
herself
the
nickname
‘Dragon
Lady’ as
a
result,
and she
did have
a very
fine
pair of
shiny
PVC
boots
Rodney
thought
to
himself,
admiring
them in
passing
as he
went to
stand
and
inhale
the
coffee.
Rodney
glanced
at Katie
while he
stood
there.
She
seemed
very
content
in her
submission,
and
occasionally
Miko
would
reach
out a
hand and
stroke
her
sub's
shiny
auburn
hair,
and
Katie
would
lower
her head
and
bestow a
little
lick on
her
top’s
shiny
boots.
It was
really
quite
sweet.
Rodney's
gaze
turned
to the
magazine
that
Katie
was
reading
– it
looked
like one
of those
trashy
rags
that he
generally
despised,
obsessed
with sex
and how
to get
the top
or sub
of your
dreams
into bed
and keep
them
there.
Rodney
had
little
interest
in that
kind of
nonsense,
but
right
now he
was a
desperate
man,
faced
with a
whole
new
world of
complex
emotional
relationships
- and as
this
magazine
seemed
utterly
obsessed
with
just
that
topic he
found
himself
craning
his head
to take
a look
over her
shoulder.
"Top
Ten Tips
to Tease
Your
Top!"
screamed
the
header.
Rodney
winced.
"I think
there's
such a
thing as
too much
alliteration,"
he
muttered.
Katie
glanced
up at
him,
startled.
"Although…"
Rodney
turned
his head
on one
side.
"Is that
even
anatomically
possible?"
he
asked.
"Dr
McKay
would
like to
read,
yes?"
Miko
inclined
her head
at the
magazine.
"Katie,
please
allow
the
great
doctor
to have
your
magazine,"
she
ordered.
Katie
handed
it over,
smiling,
looking
as if
nothing
pleased
her more
than
obeying
her
top's
every
command,
even if
that did
mean
surrendering
her
magazine.
"No,
that's
okay, I
was just
looking,"
Rodney
said
quickly,
but it
was too
late.
Miko was
going
into one
of her
elaborate
bowing
rituals,
and it
would
have
offended
her if
he'd
refused.
Katie
genuinely
didn't
seem to
mind -
and he
could
always
return
the
magazine
to her
later.
So
Rodney
took the
magazine
with a
sigh,
tried to
make the
appropriate
bowing
gestures
in
return,
and then
turned
and
fled. He
took the
magazine
back to
his
quarters
– if
nothing
else it
might be
a good
source
of
distraction,
and he
didn't
want
anyone
to catch
him
reading
it.
"Subs
in a
spin –
how to
tell if
your sub
needs
taking
down,"
he
read.
"Oh for
god's
sake!
Who
writes
this
drivel?"
He kept
on
reading
anyway,
seeking
enlightenment.
"Oh god,
these
people
give
subs a
bad
name,"
he
sighed,
after
reading
one
article
too
many.
"And the
tops
aren't
much
better."
He found
an
article
entitled,
"Learning
to love
a stern
top."
It told
the
story of
someone
called
Simon
who
loved
his top,
Denise,
outside
of the
bedroom
but
found
her too
strict
during
sex. It
all
ended
happily
with
Simon
learning
to
embrace
his
submission,
and
Denise
rewarding
him with
seemingly
endless
amounts
of hot
sex.
Rodney
turned
the
page,
irritated
beyond
belief.
The
advice
column
wasn't
much
better.
“Oh for
god’s
sake!
These
aren’t
real
problems!”
Rodney
berated
the
magazine.
"How
about
something
useful,
like:
Dear
Cosmo,
I'm a
genius,
I live
in
another
galaxy,
and I
currently
have
about
four
days to
live
unless I
can
figure
out my
fucked
up
feelings.
Please
advise."
Rodney
made a
face.
"Yeah,
somehow
I don't
think
you've
ever
come
across
that one
before."
He threw
the
magazine
onto the
floor –
it was
making
his
stomach
churn
and he
didn't
want to
add to
his
stomach's
problems.
The
lights
flickered.
and
Rodney
glanced
up,
frowning,
wondering
if there
was a
problem
with the
power
supply,
but he
didn't
have a
chance
to
investigate
further
because
at that
moment
the door
chimed.
Rodney
opened
it – and
his
stomach
lurched
when he
found
John
standing
there.
"Can I
come
in?"
John
asked,
in a
strained
voice.
Rodney
nodded,
and
stood to
one
side.
"I'm
sorry
about
earlier.
I was…"
John's
gaze
fell on
the
magazine.
"Cosmo?
You're
reading
Cosmo?"
he
asked,
with an
ironically
raised
eyebrow.
"Ha ha,
yes,
very
funny,"
Rodney
said
sourly,
booting
the
offending
magazine
under
the bed
so it
was out
of
sight.
"A copy
of it
came
into my
hands,
and I
thought
it might
have
some
advice."
"Really?"
John
made a
face,
and
Rodney
sighed.
"Yes,
that's
how
desperate
I am,"
he
replied
forlornly.
"And did
it?"
John
looked
like he
was
trying
hard not
to
laugh.
"Nope.
It's
mainly
obsessed
with
things
you can
do in
bed, and
seeing
as the
sex
between
us is
pretty
damn
fantastic
already
it's not
much
help.
Although
if I
ever do
get this
thing
off my
chest
then
there's
something
really
hot I
can do
to you
involving
whipped
cream.
Apparently."
"I can't
wait."
John
grinned,
and then
his
expression
changed.
"So, no
luck
with the
shield
then?"
"No."
Rodney
shrugged.
"Right."
John
stood
there
for a
moment.
"Look,
Rodney,
what I
said
earlier
– I was
angry.
This
problem
isn't
just
yours –
it's
mine
too, and
if
there's
anyway I
can help
then I
will."
"I know
that,"
Rodney
said
softly.
"But
thanks."
"Usually
after a
big
argument
there's
great
make-up
sex
but…"
John
nodded
at the
personal
shield,
and made
a
helpless
gesture
with his
arms.
"Yeah."
Rodney
gave a
wan
smile.
He sat
down
wearily
at the
table,
feeling
weak.
Damnit
he
wanted
to have
something
to eat,
and he
wanted
to have
sex, and
he would
quite
happily
do both
at the
same
time if
only he
could.
John sat
down
beside
him.
"I've
never
read
Tolstoy,"
Rodney
told
him.
John
gazed at
him
quizzically,
and then
realisation
set in.
"Oh.
Neither
have I,"
he said.
"I just
brought
that
book
along
for
something
to read.
I
haven't
got
beyond
page
seventeen
yet. You
know, I
was
thinking
– this
whole
thing is
about
honesty,
Rodney.
You
don't
want to
move in
with me
– that's
fine. I
was just
thinking
it'd be
more
convenient
but it
freaked
you out.
I don't
mind if
you're
not
there
yet. I
just
need you
to be
honest
with me
about
whatever
you're
thinking
and
feeling."
"Sounds
like a
plan."
Rodney
nodded,
and then
gazed at
his
shield
expectantly.
"Still
not
working
though,"
he said,
when the
shield
continued
to glow
greenly
in
response.
John
glanced
around
the
room.
"Man,
you
*are*
messy,"
he said,
with a
wry
grin.
"So,
that's
another
reason
for not
rushing
into
this. In
fact,
I'd kind
of
appreciate
it if
you took
your
time."
Rodney
gave a
snort.
"You
know –
this
whole
thing
with the
shield
might be
for the
best,"
John
told
him.
Rodney
raised a
disbelieving
eyebrow.
"What I
mean is
– we've
been
having a
lot of
great
sex but
maybe at
the
expense
of
talking."
"Oh god.
You've
been
reading
that
magazine
haven't
you?"
Rodney
sighed,
rolling
his eyes
in the
general
direction
of the
bed.
"It's
obsessed
with
communication.
Did you
know
that
Simon
learned
to love
his
submission
once he
had a
conversation
with
Denise
about
helping
him find
his
subspace?
Up until
then
he'd
faked
it, and
she'd
been
waving
her whip
around
too hard
too soon
so sex
was
becoming
an
ordeal
for him.
But once
they sat
down and
talked
about it
they
lived
happily
ever
after."
"There
see – so
it's not
impossible,"
John
grinned.
"Living
happily
ever
after I
mean,"
he
murmured
softly.
Rodney
sighed,
and
rested
his hand
on the
table,
thrumming
lightly
with his
fingers.
"I don't
know,"
he said.
"I do."
John put
his hand
on the
table
beside
Rodney's,
as close
as it
could
go. The
forcefield
glowed
green.
Rodney
gazed at
that
hand,
longing
for
real,
physical
contact,
wanting
John so
much
that it
hurt but
it made
no
difference
–the
shield
remained
resolutely
switched
on.
At that
moment
Rodney's
radio
buzzed,
and he
reached
up a
hand to
activate
it.
"Rodney
– we've
got some
strange
power
fluctuations
in the
city,"
Peter
told
him.
"Where
are they
coming
from?"
Rodney
got up,
glancing
at John
who fell
into
step
beside
him as
they
made for
the
door.
"They
started
on the
lower
level
about
half an
hour
ago, and
since
then…."
"Half an
hour ago
– I
noticed
the
lights
flickering
in my
quarters.
What
else
happened
half an
hour
ago?"
Rodney
demanded,
reaching
the end
of the
hallway,
and
taking
the
stairs
two at a
time.
"What do
you
mean?"
Peter
asked.
Rodney
reached
the
control
room,
and
vaulted
over a
crouching
technician
to reach
Peter's
work
station…then
held
onto the
console,
wishing
he
hadn't
done
that as
his head
swam.
John
reached
out a
hand to
steady
him, but
couldn't
do
anything
other
than
hover
nearby,
arm
outstretched,
unable
to touch
Rodney.
"I
mean…"
Rodney
said,
when he
regained
his
balance,
"that if
the
power
started
fluctuating
half an
hour ago
then
it's
very
likely
that
something
*happened*
half an
hour ago
to cause
it.
Radek?"
He
tapped
his
radio
and
Radek's
voice
sounded
in his
ear.
"I know,
I know!
There
are
power
fluctuations
- but it
is not
anything
we are
working
on down
here!"
Radek
told
him.
"Nobody's
working
on
something
that
could
have
caused
this?"
Rodney
asked,
frowning.
"No,"
Radek
assured
him.
Rodney
turned
to John.
"What
about
your
people?
What
have
they
been
doing
today?"
he
asked.
"Well, I
sent
Hicks
out with
his team
to
explore
the east
section
of the
city. We
haven't
been in
all the
rooms
over
there
yet, and
I wanted
to check
them
out."
"Did
they
come
back
okay?"
Rodney
asked.
"Fine.
They
reported
in just
before I
came to
see
you."
"But
they're
marines
so I
expect
they
blundered
around
the
place,
opening
doors
and
boxes
and…oh
shit.
Get
Hicks up
here and
ask him
if he
opened
any
boxes,"
Rodney
snapped.
"They're
under
strict
instructions
not to
open
anything
without
a
scientist
being
present,"
John
said.
“It was
just a
recon
mission.”
"Yeah,
well, no
offence,
Colonel,
but
they're
not
exactly
the
smartest
circuits
in the
system
so who
knows if
they
even
understood
the
order,"
Rodney
growled.
John
gave
Rodney
the
faintest
hint of
a glare
but
tapped
on his
radio
all the
same,
while
Rodney
sat at
the
workstation,
his
hands
moving
at the
speed of
light
over the
console.
“Power
outages
are
occurring
all over
the city
but they
seem to
be
linked
to
massive
energy
dips in
the
lower
eastern
part of
the
city,”
Rodney
said, a
few
minutes
later.
He
glanced
up, to
see
Hicks
coming
to stand
smartly
to
attention
in front
of John.
There
was a
little
flush on
Hicks’s
pale
skin,
and he
gazed at
his
commanding
officer
with a
look of
abject
adoration
that
made
Rodney’s
blood
boil.
“What
the hell
did you
do down
there?”
he
demanded
of the
young
man,
more
annoyed
about
the way
Hicks
was
looking
at John
than the
fact
that he
suspected
the
idiot
had
screwed
up his
beloved
city.
“Uh…we
just
followed
orders.
We
looked
in the
rooms to
see if
the
Ancients
left
anything
around
but
mainly
we’re
still
just
mapping,”
Hicks
stammered,
glancing
at
Rodney
fearfully.
Rodney
glowed a
little –
he liked
it when
the
marines
were
scared
of him,
and he
especially
liked
that
Hicks
was
scared
of him –
if he
looked
at John
like
that
again
then
he’d
have
*reason*
to be
scared
of him.
“Did you
open
anything
– or
even
just
move
anything?”
Rodney
asked.
Hicks
hesitated.
“Come
on,
quickly
– we’ve
got a
crisis
here
which is
almost
certainly
of your
making.”
Rodney
snapped
his
fingers,
unsettling
the
marine,
whose
face
went a
deeper
shade of
crimson
red.
“Uh,
I’ll
take it
from
here,
Rodney,”
John
said,
shooting
him a
look.
“It’s
okay,
Hicks.
We don’t
know if
you
caused
this
problem
or not -
we just
need to
get to
the
bottom
of it,”
he said
soothingly.
Rodney
rolled
his
eyes.
“We did
move
some
boxes
yes,
sir. I
don’t
think we
opened
anything
– if we
did then
it was
by
accident
but I
recall
that we
did
knock
over
some
storage
containers
by
mistake
so it’s
possible….”
“Aha. As
I
thought,”
Rodney
announced
grimly.
Hicks
looked
as if he
wanted
the
ground
to open
up and
swallow
him.
“Alright,”
John
tapped
on his
radio.
“Teyla
and Ford
meet me
down on
the
lower
east
side.
Hicks –
you’re
with
me.”
“What –
you’re
going
down
there?”
Rodney
said,
feeling
panicked.
“And
with
*him*?”
John
raised
an
eyebrow,
and
Rodney
flushed
and
shrugged.
“Okay.
Fine.
But, you
know.
Watch
your
back.
You
don’t
know
what
might be
down
there.”
He gave
Hicks a
vicious
glare as
he said
that,
and the
sergeant
stumbled
backwards
slightly
from the
force of
it.
Rodney
gave a
triumphant
little
smile
and
turned
back to
his
work.
“And
take a
camera
with
you,” he
shouted
after
them.
“Send me
back
live
footage.
I’ll see
if I can
get the
power
grid
working
again
from
here.”
Rodney
turned
his
attention
back to
the
console,
working
hard to
see if
he could
track
down the
source
of the
fluctuations.
Something,
somewhere,
seemed
to be
literally
sucking
the
power
dry, and
two of
the
naquada
generators
on the
lower
east
side
were
already
completely
drained
of
energy.
A few
minutes
later he
started
receiving
the
pictures
John and
Hicks
were
sending
back. It
was
creepy
watching
the
camera
pan
cautiously
down the
dark,
lower
hallways.
Rodney
worked
on the
power
grid
manically,
one eye
on the
footage
that was
being
sent
back.
John had
sent
Teyla
and Ford
up to
the
higher
levels,
while he
and
Hicks
continued
to
explore
the
lower
levels,
and for
awhile
there
was
nothing,
just the
sounds
of the
two men
walking…and
then,
suddenly,
the
screen
became a
blur of
motion.
“Hicks…move!
Shit…move,
move…what
*is*
that?”
John’s
voice.
Rodney
looked
up
sharply,
his
heart
suddenly
in his
mouth.
He saw a
massive,
moving
black
shadow
filling
the
screen,
and then
he heard
the
sound of
someone
screaming.
Both the
camera
and
radio
went
dead at
the same
time.
“Colonel
Sheppard?
John?!”
Rodney
called,
but
there
was no
reply –
only
static
from the
radio.
Rodney
was
barely
aware he
was
moving
yet
suddenly
found
himself
running
full
pelt
across
the
control
room in
the
direction
of the
nearest
transporter.
“Get
Carson
down
there.
Now!” he
yelled
at Peter
as he
ran.
Rodney
didn’t
even
think
about
the
weird
black
shadow
creature
he’d
seen
just
before
the
footage
went
dead. He
wasn’t
thinking
about
anything
except
John as
he ran
out of
the
transporter
on the
lower
east
level,
and down
the
hallways
towards
their
last
known
destination.
He
rounded
a
corner,
and came
to a
skidding
halt as
he saw
two
bodies
lying on
the
ground
at one
end of
the
hallway.
He
walked
slowly
towards
them,
his
heart
pounding
in his
chest,
less
afraid
that the
black
shadow
creature
might
still be
lurking
nearby
than
that
John
might be
dead.
“John,”
he
whispered
as he
got
close.
One of
the men
moved,
moaning
softly,
and
Rodney
hurried
along
the last
section
of the
hallway
to see
who it
was. The
moaning
man
turned
out to
be Hicks
- his
pale
skin was
now a
dark
red, as
if he’d
suffered
some
kind of
extreme
sunburn,
but he
didn't
look
injured
apart
from
that.
Rodney
barely
spared
him a
glance
as he
went on
towards
the
other,
silent
figure.
“John?”
Rodney
knelt
down
beside
his top.
John was
out
cold,
his face
un-naturally
pale,
and
Rodney
couldn’t
even
tell if
he was
breathing.
One
outstretched
hand was
as
burned
as Hicks
was.
Rodney
tapped
on his
radio,
urgently.
“Carson
– where
the hell
are
you?” he
demanded.
“On our
way –
we’ll be
there in
a few
minutes.
What’s
the
damage?”
Carson
asked.
“It’s
Sheppard
– he’s
down and
I can’t
tell if
he’s
breathing,”
Rodney
said
desperately.
“Take
his
pulse –
if he’s
not
breathing
administer
CPR,”
Carson
told
him, and
then the
radio
went
dead.
Carson
had
clearly
forgotten
about
his
current
predicament.
Rodney
glanced
at the
shield
on his
chest,
and then
at John,
lying
there,
possibly
dead,
and
needing
medical
assistance
fast.
Rodney
didn’t
even
hesitate.
He
reached
out a
hand
towards
John’s
neck,
and the
shield
winked
out
immediately
and fell
off his
chest to
land
harmlessly
on the
floor.
Rodney
found a
pulse -
strong
and
steady -
and he
breathed
a sigh
of
relief.
“You're
not dead
so wake
up, damn
you,” he
said,
cradling
John’s
head in
his
hands.
John’s
eyelids
fluttered
open,
and he
gazed
around,
blankly,
and then
his
hazel
eyes
fixed on
Rodney,
and he
gave a
wry
grin.
“Hey,”
he
muttered.
“What
happened?”
“You had
a fight
with a
weird,
energy-sucking,
black
shadow
thing,”
Rodney
told
him.
“You
lost.”
“Yeah.
Feels
that
way.
Hicks?”
John sat
up, with
a wince.
“He’s
down too
but he’s
moving
so I
guess
he’ll be
okay.
Your
hide
must be
thicker
than his
because
he’s
looking
like he
just
spent
ten
hours in
the
desert
without
sunscreen,
while
you
actually
look
kind of
pale,”
Rodney
frowned.
“I went
down and
knocked
my head
– that
thing,
whatever
it was,
just
winged
me but
it
completely
enveloped
Hicks,”
John
said,
trying
to move
towards
the
sergeant.
He went
even
paler,
and
stopped,
then
retched
onto the
floor.
“You
said you
knocked
your
head?”
Rodney
grabbed
John’s
head and
dug his
fingers
in,
searching
for a
wound.
“Ow –
shit,
Rodney,
that
hurts.
And…is
there
something
you
wanted
to tell
me?”
John
glanced
at
Rodney’s
chest,
now
without
the
personal
shield,
and then
up at
Rodney,
a broad
grin on
his
face.
Rodney
rolled
his
eyes.
“Carson
said you
might
need
CPR,” he
admitted
feebly.
"Hard to
do that
if you
can't
touch
someone."
“Aw. You
were
worried
about
me. You
love
me,”
John
told
him,
still
grinning
inanely.
“Admit
it.”
“I was
simply
concerned
that my
only
source
of hot
sex was
about to
expire,”
Rodney
replied
with a
snort.
John
just
continued
grinning
at him.
“Oh shut
up,”
Rodney
said,
grabbing
the
fallen
shield
and
stuffing
it into
his
pocket.
At that
moment
Carson
appeared
with
what
appeared
to be
half the
base’s
medical
staff,
and
Rodney
was
pushed
out of
the way.
He took
a step
back,
still
hovering
anxiously,
and ran
straight
into a
somewhat
belated
Ford and
Teyla.
"Where
the hell
were you
two?"
Rodney
snapped
at them.
"The
creature
trapped
us in
the
upper
levels,"
Teyla
told
him,
glancing
anxiously
over his
shoulder
at John.
"Is the
colonel
going to
be
alright?"
"Well
he's
breathing
and
talking
but
beyond
that I
have no
idea,"
Rodney
replied,
still
glaring
at them.
He
turned
back and
forced
his way
into the
melee
around
his top.
Carson
was busy
loading
the two
injured
men onto
gurneys,
and
Rodney
didn't
even get
close
enough
to touch
John.
"I'm
fine,"
John
told
him,
over
Carson's
shoulder.
"And we
do still
have a
crisis
situation,
Rodney.
Go do
your
job."
Rodney
glared
at him
for a
moment,
but John
didn't
seem to
be in
any
immediate
danger
so he
reluctantly
returned
to the
control
room, to
try and
figure
out a
way to
trap the
energy-hungry
black
shadow
that was
currently
stalking
the
Atlantean
hallways.
~*~
John
submitted
to
Carson's
attention
for just
long
enough
to
satisfy
the
doctor
that no
permanent
damage
had been
done,
and to
find out
that
Hicks
was
going to
be okay,
and then
he ran
out of
the
infirmary.
He
didn't
like
hanging
around
when
there
was the
possibility
that his
city –
and his
sub –
were
both in
danger.
"Where
are we
at?" he
asked,
arriving
in the
control
room to
find
Elizabeth,
Rodney
and
Peter
standing
there,
having
an
urgent
discussion.
"This
thing,
whatever
it is,
was kept
in a
containment
box,"
Rodney
told
him,
speaking
even
faster
than
usual.
"The
Ancients
clearly
knew it
was
dangerous
so they
kept it
nicely
locked
up for
ten
thousand
years
and
that's
where it
would
have
stayed
if your
men
hadn't
released
it.
Right
now it's
having a
feeding
frenzy
on our
systems."
"So shut
them
down,"
John
said.
"Humans
emit
energy
too,"
Elizabeth
said
softly.
"If we
shut
down the
systems
it'll
come
after
us."
"And, as
it's
getting
stronger
from all
the
power
its
consumed,
I can
assure
you that
the next
person
who
tangles
with it
won't
just end
up with
a bad
case of
sunburn
or a
mild
concussion,"
Rodney
said, in
an
exasperated
tone.
"So we
thought
we'd try
and lure
it here,
and send
it
through
the
stargate,"
Peter
added.
"Which
is a bad
idea on
many
levels,"
Rodney
said,
rolling
his
eyes.
"Do you
have a
better
idea?"
John
asked.
"No.
Which is
why
we're
going
with the
bad
one."
Rodney
nodded
his head
at the
M.A.L.P
standing
in front
of the
stargate.
"We've
loaded
that up
with a
naquada
generator
to
attract
it here.
We're
going to
shut
down the
other
systems
and try
and get
it to
chase
after
that
onto a
barren
world."
"Okay.
Let's
get to
it
people,"
Elizabeth
said.
"Rodney
– dial
up the
stargate."
John
pressed
a button
on the
M.A.L.P
to set
it
moving
and then
he
chased
up the
stairs
after
the
others,
and
watched
as the
black
shadow
entity
filled
the room
below.
The
hairs on
the back
of his
neck
were
standing
on end
as he
sensed
the
sizzle
of power
that the
thing
below
was
emitting.
There
was
something
so
all-encompassing
about
that
inky
blackness,
and it
was now
three
times
the size
it had
been
when
he'd met
it in
the
hallway
earlier.
Now it
had
gorged
itself
on even
more
naquada
energy,
and was
pulsating
as it
undulated
across
the room
towards
the
M.A.L.P.
and
completely
enveloped
it. The
M.A.L.P,
which
had been
trundling
towards
the
gate,
suddenly
stopped
moving.
"Oh no,"
Rodney
said.
"Oh
shit.
That
thing
could be
feeding
off the
generator,
or off
the
Stargate.
I mean,
this is
a
disaster."
John
watched,
helpless,
as the
black
shadow
creature
swelled.
If it
*was*
feeding
off the
stargate
then it
would
bleed
the city
dry, and
then
they'd
be well
and
truly
screwed.
He was
so lost
in this
train of
thought
that he
didn't
notice
Rodney
taking
the
shield
out of
his
pocket,
sticking
it on
his
chest,
and
activating
it. The
darkness
had
spread
so far
by this
point
that the
first he
realised
what was
happening
was when
he
caught a
glimpse
of his
sub
walking
down the
stairs,
a
stubborn
set to
his
shoulders.
"Rodney!"
John
yelled,
running
out of
the
control
room,
and
towards
the
encroaching
darkness,
but he
was too
late,
and
could
only
watch as
Rodney
walked
into the
darkness,
the
green
forcefield
flickering
around
him.
John
wasn't a
scientist
but he
doubted
Rodney
would
have
long
before
that
creature
sucked
all the
energy
out of
the
shield.
He ran
down the
stairs,
and was
dimly
able to
make out
Rodney
grabbing
the
naquada
generator
from the
M.A.L.P
and
throwing
it
through
the open
stargate.
The
black
shadow
followed
the
generator
through
and
someone,
presumably
Peter,
closed
the gate
immediately
behind
it.
As the
darkness
lifted,
the
first
thing
John saw
was
Rodney,
lying on
the
floor,
pale and
lifeless,
and John
felt his
stomach
clench.
He
gasped
for air,
and then
struggled
to run
the
remaining
few
steps to
his
sub's
side.
"Rodney."
John
crouched
down
beside
his sub
and
rested a
gentle
hand
against
Rodney's
throat.
"Damnit,
Rodney,
wake up
so I can
tan your
hide for
doing
something
so
stupid,"
he
hissed
in an
undertone.
Rodney
didn't
move,
and John
looked
around,
seeking
help.
Elizabeth
and
Peter
reached
them,
and
Elizabeth
crouched
down
beside
Rodney
and
touched
the
shield
on
Rodney's
chest.
John bit
back a
low
growl.
"The
power
must
have
been
drained
by the
entity,"
Peter
said
grimly.
John
couldn't
take his
eyes off
Rodney,
still
lying
there,
his face
pale. He
reached
up and
slammed
his hand
onto his
radio.
"Carson,
get a
medical
team to
the
gateroom.
NOW!" he
yelled.
"It's
okay.
He's not
burned.
He's
breathing,"
Elizabeth
said
softly.
"Rodney?"
Rodney
opened
his
eyes,
and John
knelt
back on
his
heels,
struggling
with the
strength
of the
emotions
coursing
through
his
body.
"What
happened?"
Rodney
muttered.
"You did
it,"
Elizabeth
told
him,
smiling
down at
him. "It
went
through
the
gate."
"You
passed
out,"
Peter
told
him.
"Being
brave
and
heroic
exhausted
you."
"Ha ha,"
Rodney
muttered,
getting
to his
feet.
Peter
reached
out a
hand to
steady
Rodney's
elbow,
and John
growled
again.
"I'm
fine,"
Rodney
said,
shaking
off
Peter's
hand.
"Just a
bit
dizzy."
John
just
stood
there,
trying
to get
himself
under
control.
His
feelings
were
spiralling
away
from
him, and
he felt
crowded
out.
"I'll
take him
to the
infirmary,"
he said,
in a low
tone,
just
barely
holding
onto his
emotions.
Elizabeth
shot him
a
surprised
look.
"Carson's
on his
way,"
she
reminded
him.
"So call
him and
tell him
to go
back.
I'll
bring
Rodney
to him,"
John
said,
just
wanting
to get
his sub
out from
here, to
get him
alone
and away
from all
these
enquiring
faces
and
people
who
seemed
to think
it was
okay to
maul
him.
John
struggled
to get a
grip on
himself
but he
realised
he was
fighting
a losing
battle
while
all
these
people
were
around.
He
needed
to have
Rodney
to
himself,
to
satisfy
himself
that his
sub was
okay.
He took
hold of
Rodney's
arm, and
helped
him down
the
stairs
and away
from the
gate
room. He
didn't
trust
himself
to speak
to his
sub –
all he
could
think
about
was how
Rodney
had
looked,
pale and
lifeless,
lying on
the
floor,
and how,
for a
couple
of
minutes,
he'd
thought
he was
dead.
John
tightened
his
grasp on
Rodney's
arm, and
Rodney
gazed up
at him,
a
puzzled
look in
his blue
eyes.
"That
hurts,"
he said.
John
loosened
his grip
a
fraction.
"I'm
okay,"
Rodney
said.
John
just
shook
his
head,
still
unable
to
speak.
"John…I'm
fine. I
just
passed
out. I
don't
even
need to
see
Carson,"
Rodney
told
him.
"You'll
see
Carson,"
John
growled.
"What
the hell
is wrong
with
you?"
Rodney
demanded.
John
closed
his eyes
momentarily,
and saw
Rodney
running
away
from him
into an
inky
black
darkness,
and he
couldn't
find a
reply.
They
reached
the
infirmary
to find
Carson
waiting
for
them, an
anxious
look on
his
face.
"Are you
okay,
Rodney?"
he
asked.
"I'm
fine. I
was
incredibly
brave
and
noble
though,"
Rodney
told
him.
"Elizabeth
told me
you
walked
straight
into
that
creature,"
Carson
said.
"That IS
pretty
brave
and
noble,
Rodney."
John
stood
there,
his hand
still
gripping
Rodney's
arm
tightly,
unwilling
to ever
let his
sub go
again.
"Uh,
Colonel
Sheppard
– if I'm
going to
examine
Rodney
you'll
need to
let go
of his
arm,"
Carson
said.
The
words
somehow
penetrated
the fog
that was
enveloping
John's
brain,
and he
took a
deep
breath,
and
forced
himself
to
release
his grip
on
Rodney's
arm.
"I could
have
died!"
Rodney
said
proudly
to
Carson.
"I mean,
yes, I
had the
personal
shield,
but I
knew I
didn't
have
long
before
that
thing
sucked
all the
power
out of
it."
"You're
truly a
hero,
laddie,"
Carson
said,
rolling
his eyes
slightly
in
John's
direction.
"I had
no idea
whether
the
shield
would
protect
me at
all!”
Rodney
babbled.
Carson
grinned
at him.
"Come
and sit
on the
bed,
Rodney,
and let
me see
if
there's
been any
damage,"
he said,
and as
he
spoke,
he
reached
out a
hand and
cupped
Rodney's
elbow,
guiding
him over
to the
bed.
It was
all too
much for
John.
He'd had
to
endure
the
distress
of not
being
able to
touch
Rodney
while
he'd
been
wearing
that
damn
shield,
and then
he'd
been
forced
to watch
his sub
almost
die, and
people
had been
standing
over
Rodney,
casually
putting
their
hands on
him as
if they
owned
him, and
now…now
Carson
was
touching
him
without
even
looking
in
John's
general
direction
to make
sure
that was
okay.
John's
emotions
spilled
over to
the
point
where he
couldn't
control
them any
more.
"Get
your
damn
hands
off
him!" he
snarled,
grabbing
hold of
Carson
and
throwing
him back
against
the
wall.
"Easy,
laddie,"
Carson
gasped,
John's
hand
tight
around
his
throat.
"It's
okay.
I'm just
going to
examine
him."
"John?
What the
hell are
you
doing?"
Rodney's
eyes
swam
into his
field of
vision,
blue and
shocked,
and it
was like
someone
had
poured
cold
water
over
him.
John
released
Carson,
and then
turned
and ran
out of
the
infirmary.
He made
it to
the
south-west
pier and
then
stopped,
leaned
over the
balcony,
and
threw up
into the
water
below.
He
spilled
his guts
and then
sprawled
back
against
the
wall,
breathing
heavily.
He had
to get
himself
under
control.
This was
ridiculous.
Carson
didn't
know he
was
Rodney's
top –
there
was no
reason
why he'd
think to
ask
John's
permission
to touch
him. And
this
wasn't
about
Carson
anyway.
This was
about
Rodney,
about
nearly
losing
Rodney,
about
the
rollercoaster
that had
been the
past
day.
John
reached
into his
vest and
took out
a
canteen
of
water.
He
swilled
some
around
his
mouth
and spat
it out,
and then
took
another
deep,
satisfying
gulp and
swallowed
it down.
Rodney
barrelled
onto the
balcony
a few
seconds
later,
blue
eyes
blazing.
"I
thought
I'd find
you
here.
What the
hell was
that
about?"
he
demanded.
"What
were you
thinking?
Carson
is our
friend,
and a
damn
good
one. Why
the hell
did
you…."
He
trailed
off and
his eyes
softened
as he
got a
good
look at
John.
"Shit
you look
bad," he
murmured,
coming
to stand
in front
of his
top.
"I'm
sorry."
John
doubled
over and
held
onto his
stomach,
which
was
still
roiling
with
emotion.
"Hey,
it's
okay.
John?
What's
all this
about?"
John
felt
Rodney's
warm
arms
encircle
his body
and the
lurching
in his
stomach
eased
off a
fraction.
"Is this
because
I was
dumb
enough
to walk
into
that
thing?"
Rodney
asked,
bestowing
a little
kiss on
the side
of
John's
neck.
John
wrapped
his arms
around
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