One Lost Civilian
K Hanna Korossy
Previously published in: Jumper Two (2007)
The lab door whispered open behind him. Rodney McKay didn't look up from his worktable, but his face tightened fractionally at the interruption.
"I just saw a huge bear rug walking in the hall," Radek Zelenka's accented tones made him relax again.
"Yes, Ronin is rathershaggy," Rodney agreed absently. "I think Sheppard adopted him so there'd finally be someone with worse hair in Atlantis."
"I thought his name is Ronon?"
Rodney's irritated glance flicked up to him, then back to the workbench. "Yes, well, we didn't exactly have time for introductions with me hanging upside down and everybody else running around shooting at each other. Besides," he frowned at what was left of the chip that had been in the runner's back, "isn't you correcting me about names a little hypocritical? You still can't say Weir without it sounding like some kind of German meat dish."
"It is difficult to say, Vier," Radek said defensively. He sidled up next to Rodney for a closer look, and Rodney automatically moved back a step. "Is it Wraith technology?"
"From the little I have to compare it to, I think so. The beacon's actually very similar to the one that was in Teyla's necklace."
"Hmm. I wonder if the ATA gene affects it as well? Have you asked Colonel--?"
"No," Rodney said tersely. "I haven't asked the colonel anything. In fact, I haven't seen the colonel since we got back to Atlantis, and I'd like to keep it that way, okay?"
There was a pause, just long enough for Rodney to wince and wish he could take the words back. The last thing he needed was Radek on his case about this. But all Zelenka said was, "Ah."
Which, perversely, irked him even more. "Ah, what?" Rodney asked, wheeling around to look at his friend. "Look, I don't know what you think you know, but I can guarantee you it's wrong. That mission was a nightmare and I don't want to talk about it, think about it, or relive it with anyone again--is that too much to ask?"
Radek's eyebrows went up, but he shook his head. "No."
"Good. Look, I need a break. You play with this for a while." He pushed away from the table, those knowing little Czech eyes, and the whole topic of the last two days, and fled for the door.
"Mess hall?" Radek called out after him.
Rodney shook his head sharply. "Gadget room." And then he was out the door, turning left with a clipped stride.
Contrary to popular belief, the devices they found as they explored Atlantis didn't usually end up in the lab to be activated by any stray touch or thought. They were stored, tested, and catalogued under controlled and isolated conditions in what had unofficially become known as the "gadget room," or the "play room," as some of the others called it. The gadgets often fell in priority to invasions, nanovirus attacks, visits by Ancients, and various missions, but whenever one of the ATA-endowed scientists had a little time or one of the others was able to corral an ATA soldier, processing resumed. And sometimes, considering they'd already found gadgets that served as holograph projectors, fancy cameras, keys to hidden rooms, and a cube whose sole purpose seemed to be to smell like pressed garlic, it could be fun, too. For Rodney, it was a welcome break from the problems of the city weighing heavily on his shoulders. Radek knew to look for him there when he wasn't in his lab, and, Rodney scowled, so did Sheppard, but he'd take his chances. He seriously doubted the colonel was looking for or even thinking about him that day.
The gadget room door opened, and Rodney strode in, then stopped, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Relaxation. Right. Everything else was left at the entrance. Another breath and his back unbent, not aching so much despite new bruises and its recent wrenching. Rodney's mouth turned down in memory, but he resolutely ignored it and reached for the inventory list. What first?
Time was left behind, too. He had no idea how much later it was when, in the middle of testing of an elaborately decorated cube, the door opened.
"Radek, I said--" The words died in Rodney's mouth as he looked up. "Colonel Sheppard."
"McKay." The nod was brisk at best. "You're late."
He blinked. "For what?"
"Elizabeth called a meeting for this afternoon, remember? We were supposed to be there ten minutes ago."
"Oh." He wanted to bluster, wanted to be sarcastic, wanted to bruise like he felt bruised, and the best he could do was, oh. Mortification burned his face, and his eyes dropped back to the cube.
"Rodney?" A step toward him. But impatience rang through both. "What is the matter with you? Is this still because Dex didn't cut you down on the planet? You've been sulking about that ever since we got back--get over it."
This time it was indignation and hurt that made him flush, but it also freed his tongue, and Rodney met Sheppard's gaze hotly. "As much as I enjoyed hanging upside down from a tree for a half an hour while Ford threatened to shoot me and Ronon looked like he wanted to have me for dinner and I didn't know where in God's name you were, that's not what I'm sulking about, Colonel. Nor, surprisingly, am I upset about the hours of the kind of radiation exposure I've seen the results of firsthand." His fingers curled painfully around the cube. "No, it's the being held hostage by an old, totally unstable friend that I find seriously disturbing, especially after having to shoot him, since the rest of my team was curiously AWOL. And, oh yeah, after said day from Hell, my team leader and, coincidentally, former best friend, is more worried about the Rasta reject who tried to kill us than about his permanently traumatized team scientist. So excuse me if I don't get over it, Colonel, but I think I've earned the right to be a little disturbed."
Sheppard's face had gone from anger-dark to startled to troubled, and as he opened his mouth to respond, Rodney suddenly wished again he could take his words back, close the door on his vulnerability. He hadn't meant to tell John any of that, only to lick his wounds in private. Confessions only exposed weaknesses and confirmed low opinions, and if Sheppard dared offer a single word of sympathy, that would be it, Rodney would justdisappear. Go away. Vanish.
Instead, amidst a flare of brilliant pain, the room did.
*****
Someone was yelling.
It made his head pound harder, and Rodney winced. "A little peace for the dying here," he groaned, fumbling a hand to his forehead. What on earth had hit him?
"going to believe that without proof!" the loud voice continued. "For all we know, that thing moved him to another part of the city. The sensors--"
"We've checked the sensors," came the quieter response. "We haven't accounted for every dot, but there are no isolated readings. If Rodney was, em, beamed elsewhere, he would be around others who would have reported seeing him."
"Not if he got beamed into a room. And we haven't checked the water yet, either."
Sheppard. It was Sheppard, not sounding very happy. And considering they were talking about where he'd gone, Rodney had an idea why. He took a breath, winced again, and raised his hand weakly. "Don't bother--I'm right here."
"If he's in the water"
"I know," came Sheppard's suddenly soft response. "But we have to check everywhere. I can't believe he just got disintegrated or blown up or something."
"Hello!" Rodney stretched gingerly. "I said, I'm right here." Everything ached.
"You said he cried out as he disappeared?" That was Radek. And as the words started to make sense, Rodney opened his eyes and pushed himself up. Muscles complained, his head throbbed, but he was there, alive, and more or less sitting upright, staring up from the gadget room floor at his two friends just a few feet away as they continued to talk about his disappearance.
"Yeah." Sheppard flinched, reached up to rub a hand over his face. "Look, Doc, I don't believe he's dead, okay?"
There was a flutter of dread in Rodney's gut. "Of course I'm not dead!"
"..Let's just start from there. That means he's somewhere, which means we can find him. I've got the manpower, you've got the brainpower, so let's go looking, shall we? Starting with that Rubik's Cube he was playing with when he disappeared." Sheppard nodded toward the table behind Rodney, looking right at him.
No, actually, Rodney realized, not at him. Through him.
He blinked. "Wait. You really can't see me?" He held up a hand in front of his face. It looked solid, completely non-transparent. Rodney pinched the back of it with his other hand and winced. "Ow. Okay, so I'm solid to me. But not to" He reached forward, one finger extended to touch the stool beside him. Even though he half expected it, when his finger melted through the wood, it still made him jump. Complete decorporealization? "That is so cool!" His face fell as his mind kept going. "Wait, not so cool. In fact, this is really not good." He jabbed again at the stool with the same result.
Sheppard strode past him to the table, carefully reaching out to touch the cube. After a moment, he closed his eyes, concentrating, and Rodney found himself holding his breath.
"Anything?" Radek asked hopefully after a few seconds.
A twist of the mouth. "I don't hear him, do you?"
Zelenka shook his head unhappily. Rodney looked back at Sheppard, seeing for the first time the locked posture and intense gaze that was a study in tension anddistress.
Over him.
Rodney scrambled to his feet, swaying briefly and almost unbalancing when he tried to lean on a table for support and sank right through it. But his eyes didn't budge from the two men at the door. Radek turned toward him, then moved past as he headed for the table. Sheppard returned to the doorway, giving the room a piercing look that went right over Rodney.
He swallowed. "Look, this isn't funny anymore, okay? I'm right here--I didn't go anywhere. There's no need to--" What, worry? Exactly what he'd been asking for just a little bit ago; who said God didn't have a sense of humor?
Sheppard keyed his headset. "Dr. Weir, we've got a problem. McKay'sdisappeared."
Radek's shoulders hunched a little.
John moved back out into the hallway, filling Elizabeth in, and Rodney stared after him in dismay, then back at Radek. The Czech was closer, and Rodney finally set his jaw and strode over to Zelenka. "Listen, Radek, I didn't disappear, I--" His hand faded into the scientist's shoulder as he leaned in, and Rodney jumped back with a yelp and a shudder. "Okay, that's just weird. No more touching, okay? I'll juststay right here." He did lean in a little again, careful not to make contact. "I was working on that when Iwhen it happened, so be careful with it."
Radek didn't pause, turning the cube over thoughtfully, then looking over to read Rodney's notes.
"Just don't screw this one up, okay? I have a feeling you're going to be on your own with it." Rodney hesitated, wishing he could just make contact for one second, touch the engineer's shoulder. But John was leaving, and Rodney wanted to see where he was going, so he settled for an awkward air pat. "Good luck. You can do this. Hopefully, some of my genius has rubbed off on you by now."
It wasn't much fun being blunt with someone who couldn't hear you. Rodney grimaced at Zelenka and turned and walked away.
He caught up to Sheppard in the hall, hurrying to keep up with the long stride.
"I want an ATA guy on every team, equipped with a life-signs detector, but tell them to search even where they're not getting any readings. And have every expedition member call in--I want to account for every reading we can." Sheppard was barking orders into his headset, which reminded Rodney of his own. He tapped it experimentally.
"Elizabeth? Carson?"
No answer. He hadn't really expected one, but a scientist tried every possibility.
"Okay. There has to be a logical explanation for this. Think."
"Nobody's off-duty until we find McKay," Sheppard added to his string of orders. Rodney arched an eyebrow at him in touched surprise. "Put the city on alert--for now we're treating this as a terrorist action."
"Oh." He tried not to feel disappointed. "So it's not because of me, you're just worried about an attack. How very military of you." Rodney made a face. "Did it occur to you that if someone had a weapon like that, they probably would have also taken you out? You were right there, after all." He tipped his head, considering. "Although, it is logical to take out the most intelligent first"
"Trust you to pull something like this now," John muttered, gaze sweeping the hallway. "'Cause disappearing on the planet just wasn't enough for one week."
Rodney glared at him hotly. "This is not my fault! Ford wasn't either, for that matter. If you hadn't gotten yourself captured, we could have dragged Ford back long before I possibly ruined any chance I had of passing on my superior genes to the next generation. And that's not mentioning the hanging upside down part, which I'd just as soon not mention ever again."
"And 'former best friend'? What was that about?" the grumbling continued, unheeding of his rebuttal. "You got the disturbed part right, anyway."
Rodney's lip curled. "Fine, you want to censure me behind my back--er, so to speak--be my guest. I have more important things to worry about." He pointedly ignored yet another under-the-breath comment, talking over it. "So, obviously I'm not dead because there's no such things as ghosts and there's supposed to be a body or a bright light or something, anyway, and, well, that theory is vastly superior to the alternative. So, not dead, and, contrary to Colonel Paranoia here, this is probably not an enemy attack because, A, there's no way anyone could have gotten close enough to single out a target like that and, B, even if they had, what kind of attack is that? Zap, you're invisible?"
Sheppard turned sharply to step into a transporter, and Rodney went two steps farther before he realized that and quickly backtracked to catch up with the colonel. He got there just as the doors closed, and only then thought to wonder if he'd be able to be transported. But he was, feeling the soft shift he always did.
"That's interesting," he murmured, absently following John out. "Incorporeal entities wouldn't beam, which meanshmm, not just invisibility because then I wouldn't be going through things. It can't be some kind of shielding then, either. In fact, it sort of sounds like" He stopped short, Sheppard continuing without him, then ran to catch up again. "The crystal skull!"
The colonel did not seem impressed.
"Oh, that's right, you didn't read the SGC files." Rodney started a sideways shuffle, trying to keep up while he explained. "Listen, there was this skull Dr. Jackson found on a planet that if you looked into its eyes, you were phased into another molecular vibration so that you could communicate with the aliens of that planet. That must be what this is, some kind of phasing. That would explain the not being able to touch anything and invisibility. That cube in the lab must have been some kind of phasing device. Of course, that never explained why Dr. Jackson--or I--can see everything and everyone that's not-phased"
Sheppard's long stride hadn't slowed as he'd climbed the steps to the control room, and Rodney noticed for the first time where they were. Elizabeth and Major Lorne were already waiting, and he gave them a distracted wave.
"The teams ready, Major?" Sheppard asked without preamble.
Lorne nodded. "Six have already deployed, sir. Two more are geared up and waiting for us."
"Look, all this really isn't necessary," Rodney protested.
"We still don't know any more than that Rodney just disappeared?" Weir asked.
"He was playing with--"
"Researching," Rodney cut in.
"--something in the gadget room, and we figure that did something to him. Dr. Z's working on figuring out what it is."
Rodney sighed. "Which is why the answer lies in the lab, not crawling all over the city."
Elizabeth digested that. "He didn't have any ideas?"
"Radek wouldn't know an idea if it bit him on the leg. But give him a break, he just started working on it," Rodney said impatiently.
"...just started working on it," Sheppard was finishing. Rodney gaped at him.
"All right," Weir said. "Report in every two hours."
Lorne and Sheppard nodded and turned away. Rodney cringed as they proceeded to walk through him when he couldn't get out of the way fast enough, but stomped along after.
"You said Dr. McKay screamed when he disappeared?" Lorne asked.
"Yeah," Sheppard said grimly. "Sounded like it hurt."
Rodney shuddered at the reminder. "Try every cell of your body getting electrocuted."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but are you sure there's someone still out there to look for?"
Rodney could see John's jaw set even from behind. "Until somebody proves to me otherwise, the assumption is yes."
There was a lurch deep inside him Rodney couldn't place.
Lorne shrugged. "Okay." He waited a beat. "Does he get into trouble like this a lot?"
"You have no idea," John said fervently.
Any warm fuzzies died instantly. "Oh, that's nice," Rodney said sourly. "Is that any way to talk about a missing and possibly dead man?"
"He sure talks a lot, too--I'm not sure anyone could be brilliant enough for me to put up with a package like that on my team."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not on your team if you're that shortsighted," Rodney huffed at Lorne. "Tell him, Major," he added, lifting his chin.
"Oh, he grows on you after a while. Kinda like athlete's foot."
Rodney jarred to a stop. That was a cheap shot. He knew better than to think John meant it--well, mostly--but it still stung. Especially shared with someone like Lorne who really didn't like him. It suddenly felt like fourth grade again, when he'd learned Tommy what's-his-name had only wanted to be his science partner because he'd expected Rodney to do all the work and get a good grade for him.
But the two retreating figures were going off in search of him, because of Sheppard's dogged refusal to believe he was dead. And that meant something, too. A lot, actually. The jibes--well, times of stress and all, right? Rodney knew what he'd seen in Sheppard's face, heard in his voice. What he'd realized over the last year.
Still, he would be very happy to re-phase any time now. Even with the lure of women's locker rooms, being invisible wasn't all it was cracked up to be, especially the part about hearing what others had to say about you. Sometimes ignorance was bliss.
But nothing happened, and Rodney slumped in resignation. Sheppard and Lorne were nearly out of sight, but what was he going to do, tag along on his own search party? Like that would help anything. Besides, he'd heard enough. "I'll just, uh" he pointed vaguely back toward the labs. "Right. I'll meet up with you guys later." Rodney waved them on.
They went, disappearing around a corner.
Slowly, silently, he turned away from the retreating figures and headed back to the lab.
*****
"Being out of phase," Rodney said decisively, "is incredibly boring."
Radek paid no attention to him, continuing to frown at the cube in front of him much as he had the previous hours Rodney had already been there. Considering all he could do was look and not touch, it made for an extremely tedious show.
Not that he hadn't done his own experiments. Genes were genes no matter what molecular vibration, so the first thing Rodney had done upon returning to the gadget room was to touch the cube. Or rather, try to touch the cube, which had proved as insubstantial as the furniture. Nothing, no glow, no tingle of activation.
Okay, he'd been thinking about disappearing before he had done just that, so maybe this was a purely mentally activated device. Rodney closed his eyes and concentrated on reappearing.
No zap, no cry of wonder from Radek. Another bust.
But that still made Rodney wonder if perhaps he'd just found another avenue of communication, and Rodney went around the room after that looking for something else that would activate and perhaps wake Zelenka to the fact he wasn't alone. But no amount of thinking and poking and eventually cursing seemed to make the slightest bit of difference.
So maybe genes weren't genes, or at least not ones non-phased Atlantean equipment recognized. Great. Rodney clomped back to where Radek worked, but one glance at a page full of notes written in Czech and he'd thrown up his hands in surrender and, declaring his boredom, sat back to wait.
Not literally, of course, but that begged another question, and Rodney frowned at his feet now. Unlike on all those bad sci-fi shows, if he was out of phase, there was no reason he should've been able to stand on the insubstantial ground.
His boots began to sink even as he stared at them, the floor soon lapping over their toes.
Horrified, Rodney yanked his feet up in quick succession and willed himself, or the floor, back into solidness. Just as quickly, he returned to firm footing.
"Right," he mumbled shakily. "The floor's solid. Rock. I'm standing on rock. No doubting, no sinking. Sinking is bad."
No sinking. With a sigh of relief, Rodney deliberately turned his eyes from the floor, then gave the table a thoughtful glance. Maybe it was just mind over matter. With as much belief as he could muster, he hitched himself up onto the surface.
And crashed through into the floor that suddenly felt very solid.
"Ow." That would leave a bruise. Rodney pushed himself up painfully, rubbing a sore spot. "Fine, I get it: no tables, no chairs, only floor. Just so everyone knows, this really sucks."
The tinny voice of John Sheppard suddenly spoke up. "Dr. Zelenka?"
Rodney turned to watch Radek tap his headset. "Yes, Colonel."
"Any progress?"
"Only that I cannot be certain this was the device that affected Rodney, not without attempting to repeat conditions, which of course I cannot."
"Why not? I'll volunteer."
"No! Out of the question," Rodney said instantly.
Radek was only a second behind him. "Definitely not, Colonel. Until we know what happened to Rodney, it would be dangerous to attempt a replay."
"Yeah, well, we've accounted for every life-sign reading we're getting in the city, and we're running out of places to look. If you've got any other ideas, now's the time to share with the class."
John's voice sounded strained, and it wasn't just the radio. Worried about him, Rodney suspected uncomfortably. Again he was hearing what he wasn't supposed to, the rigidly controlled fear that he usually missed because he was kidnapped or unconscious or otherwise in no condition to be aware of it.
"Well," Radek dragged a hand through his hair. "With your permission, I would like to take the cube apart."
"I thought you already did that--what've you been doing up there, Doc?" Outrage now, and Rodney's mouth twitched. A year he'd been hanging around the labs, and Sheppard still didn't know the first thing about research. The man was hopeless.
Radek just made a face. "So it would be acceptable?"
"Yeah, okay. But you're not gonna break anything, right?" Sheppard suddenly sounded cautious. "Nothing we can't put back together?"
"No, I will be careful." Radek had on the same expression he did when he was humoring Rodney, and this time Rodney couldn't help a grin.
"Okay, just...be careful."
"Yes, Colonel." Zelenka graduated to long-suffering.
Rodney wandered back to the workbench. "Don't take it personally, Radek--he's like that with me all the time. He's just" Worried. That word again. Rodney grimaced. "Look, I'm not being much help here--why don't I let you work and, uh, I'll get back to you, okay?" Zelenka wasn't waiting for his permission, already hefting a small screwdriver, and Rodney was tempted to stay and watch his progress whether he could help or not. But something about Sheppard's tone a minute before was still pulling at him, and he was anxious to follow. He could always come back and haunt Radek later.
Rodney barely paid attention as he walked through the door and out into the hallway. Not until he realized abruptly he had no idea where Sheppard was and had no way of asking or checking.
"Great, just great. Did Jackson have these problems? I don't think so." The control room, Rodney finally decided. If he could overhear anything useful, it would be there. Rodney changed directions and kept going.
Actually, Jackson's report had been vague about his personal experiences, if Rodney remembered correctly. There had been a lot of detail about the skull, the aliens, and the specifics of how he phased and re-phased, but little about what it had been like being effectively non-corporeal for nearly thirty-six hours. Nothing about watching his friends try to remain optimistic even as they attempted to figure out what had happened to him. For the first time, Rodney had some idea as to why the gaps.
The control room was a scene of activity with an undercurrent of tension. Right, they were still thinking possible attack, and Rodney rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the way to watch and listen. Not that he would be in anyone's way, but it was still incredibly disconcerting when someone walked through him.
"Dr. Weir?" one of the techs spoke up, and Elizabeth and Rodney turned to him. "Teams three and five have also reported in. Only Colonel Sheppard's and Major Lorne's teams are still out."
Elizabeth's lips compressed and she reached up to activate her headset. "Colonel Sheppard? The last of the teams have reported in. It's" she glanced at her watch, "2340 now. I think it's time we called off the search for the night."
The night? Rodney looked out the window, startled. When had that happened? It had been, what, about three when he'd disappeared? Barely after lunch. His stomach rumbled unhappily at the thought; he'd checked earlier in the lab, only to find that for once he had no food stashed on his person, which meant no phased food he could eat. And he was trying hard not to think about what that meant.
"We've got about twenty more rooms to search in this section of the city."
"Are you picking up any life signs in that area?"
Rodney made a face at her. He knew the answer to that as well as she did. "No, but that doesn't mean--"
"Tonight I'm afraid it does," Weir cut in, then tried a gentler tack. "Colonel Sheppard, your team must be tired--it's time to stop."
"I can put a fresh team together."
"I need you well-rested, too, Colonel. I'm afraid this isn't up for argument. If we had any indication Dr. McKay was there or that there was an imminent threat"
Rodney sank into a crouch where he'd stood, staring dully at the floor and listening to the discussion of his fate. The few moments of excitement about being invisible at the beginning were long gone.
"Elizabeth...he could be injured, unconscious, trapped in something that shields readings. For all we know, waiting might kill him."
"Or he might not be out there at all," Weir said softly. "Look, John, come back here and we'll regroup, discuss other options."
There was a pause. "Fine. Sheppard out."
Rodney snorted softly. "Now he's mad," he said to the unhearing room at large.
Elizabeth seemed to agree. Her face was still set when the colonel strode in some ten minutes later. "Tell me again why we have to stop searching for a missing man when we've got fresh teams who could go out?" he immediately began.
"Because I'm here?" Rodney offered.
"Because we have absolutely no indication Rodney is somewhere in the city. I'm not willing to tie up half our military forces, especially with the Daedelus not here right now, in a search that's based more on wishful thinking more than fact."
Dead silence. Rodney gaze flicked from Elizabeth's determined expression to Sheppard's angry one. "He's not dead," the colonel finally said tightly.
Rodney swallowed and looked away.
Elizabeth's tone softened. "I didn't say he is. We just don't know enough right now to know where he is or what happened to him. I gave you the time to search; now I'm asking you to give Dr. Zelenka some time to come up with other options."
Another strained silence. Rodney looked up just in time to see Sheppard's head jerk once in a reluctant nod. "Okay. We break until 0600. Until then, I'll be in the lab."
Elizabeth looked like she was going to protest, then thought better of it and simply nodded.
Sheppard turned heel and walked out. Rodney scrambled up on numb legs to hurry after him.
He had to half-run again to keep up, but he did, casting quick glances at his friend. "Look, I know you didn't know I was listening, but I appreciate what you said back there."
The colonel didn't slow, glancing sharply around as he went, ever vigilant.
"And, uh, I'm sorry what I said about the planet and you and Ford. I know it wasn't easy for you, either." And now Sheppard had lost another member of his team. No wonder he was almost vibrating with tension. "I'm justI'm really sorry."
Heartfelt admissions had no more impact than belligerent comebacks. Rodney sighed and kept going.
And suddenly stumbled, automatically reaching out to Sheppard to steady himself and nearly falling into him as his hand passed through the apparently solid arm. Rodney cursed and bent over, trying to still a swaying world. Dizziness, a little nausea: he was starting to get hypoglycemic. Pity he hadn't thought to phase a couple of water bottles and PowerBars along with himself.
Two steps ahead of him, Sheppard jerked to a halt.
Hands on his knees, Rodney glanced up. "Weird for you, too, huh? You should try seeing something go through you along with feeling it."
John glanced uneasily back his way, then to either side.
Rodney straightened with effort, but his attention was on the colonel. Eyes narrowed, he asked, "Did you feel that? Really?"
A shrug, more dismissal than answer, and the colonel began moving again. Rodney hurried after him.
"You felt something, didn't you? That narrow little mind is telling you it's not possible, but you felt it." Rodney reached out to pat one jacket-clad shoulder, hand sinking a centimeter into fabric and flesh. "Can you feel that?"
But there was no reaction this time, not even a shiver. Rodney finally yanked his hand back, hating the sensation that didn't seem to be bothering John any. Momentary hope faded.
Which allowed true panic, for the first time, to rush in to take its place.
"I'm right here," Rodney's voice rose with each word. "Just because none of you can see me doesn't mean I don't exist. I'm right here and I am really, really fed up with being ignored."
Sheppard muttered something under his breath as he stepped into the transporter.
Rodney laughed. Too high and brittle and, if he hadn't been seriously screwed already, it might have scared him. "If I die, which, let's face it, seems to be getting likelier all the time here, you realize my invisible corpse is going to be lying here, moldering, while you people walk right through it?" The thought made him nauseated, and he swallowed hard.
But the transporter door was starting to shut, and with a last shudder, Rodney jumped to join Sheppard. He could have his panic attack just as easily elsewhere, but he wouldn't be able to activate the transporter by himself.
In the small space, Rodney wrapped his arms around his tight chest, feeling his heart pound. Jules Verne had been right about invisibility being a curse rather than a gift. He was standing five inches from his best friend, and they might as well have been on different planets. Who would ever choose to feel this alone?
The transporter door slid open and John strode out. It took a long minute more before Rodney could get the hyperventilation under control and his wobbly legs working enough to join him.
*****
"Sometimes I really hate the Ancients."
Rodney tilted his head to look at Sheppard sitting next to him on the floor, knees drawn up just as Rodney's were. "You, too, eh?"
"I mean, I get that they didn't expect strangers to move into the city and pick up where they left off, but still, would it have killed them to leave some instructions lying around, just in case? Even if it would've been some of their people who came back, thousands of years is a long time to remember where everything is and how it works."
"From what Elizabeth said, I don't think they expected anyone to live in the city again. Of course, that doesn't explain why they sank it instead of just blowing it up"
"Of course, if they didn't want anyone living in it, they should have blown it instead of just sinking it."
Rodney winced. "You have to stop doing that, I mean it. This is disconcerting enough without the whole mind-reading thing, and I refuse to believe we've started thinking the same way, even if it is just my genius rubbing off on you."
Sheppard scrubbed a hand over his face. "How's it going up there, Dr. Z?"
"A few more minutes, please."
"Okay, but any chance you can tell yet if it's a transporter or a weapon or something else?"
"Not yet, but I do not believe it is a weapon."
Something passed through Sheppard's face that Rodney couldn't read in profile. "So, transporter then, maybe. Good, that's good. Then we just have to figure out to where. No matter where you go, there you are, right?"
Radek turned, face alight. "Of course, you are a John. Not John Bigbooté, yes?"
Sheppard laughed even as Rodney stared at them incredulously. "Nope, I'm one of the good guys, Blue Blaze Irregular all the way--I woulda never pegged you for a Buckaroo Banzai fan, Doc."
"Buckaroo Banzai?" Rodney spluttered. "I'm missing, possibly dying, and you two are discussing cheesy cult movies?"
"Yes, it is a great favorite in Institute back home. I always wished to be a rock star as well as a scientist."
"Oh, now that's just disturbing," Rodney muttered, dropping his head back against the wall. The nausea was getting worse, and he was becoming shaky and sweaty. Another two-three hours until the drowsiness and confusion rendered him completely helpless, and after that it would be coma and death. Just feet away from help, from friends who were trading movie trivia. It wasn't fair.
"I think McKay likes it, too."
"I do not," Rodney said sullenly. "The science was worse than Back to the Future."
"He will not admit it, but he does."
"He tried the same act on you, too, huh? I don't know how you put up with all the grief he gives you, Dr. Z."
"He's lucky I'm willing to work with him!" Rodney said indignantly.
"He is a true genius, Colonel. He has much on his mind."
"See?"
"But he is also my friend, and I know when he does not mean what he says."
"Don't tell him that," Rodney protested weakly. "It'll give him ideas."
A few beats of silence passed, then Sheppard frowned. "Hey, Dr. Z," he called up again. "Did McKay talk to you about the last mission?"
"Besides Lt. Ford holding him prisoner and hanging him upside-down and wanting to kill him? Hardly at all."
"Yeah, that was the one," John said softly. Rodney watched him with narrow eyes as the colonel sighed tiredly. "I didn't realize it was bugging him that much until today." He glanced at his watch. "I mean, yesterday."
"Rodney can complain a great deal, but sometimes he says nothing when he should."
"Oh, thanks so very much."
"I've noticed that, too. Took me two days to figure out what Kolya did to him during the Genii invasion."
Rodney flinched. "As much as I'm enjoying this little walk through my worst nightmares, could we postpone it to some other time? Like maybe when I'm not starving to death!"
"He thought I was more worried about Dex than about him--I shoulda made sure he was okay. He did a good job down there."
"I did?"
"He understood."
"I did?" The change to past tense was disconcerting, as if he were already gone--well, more gone than he was--but their remorseful concern lodged a solid lump in Rodney's gut. He didn't know what was more uncomfortable, the feeling that no one cared or the knowing that they did. But he knew which he preferred, by a landslide. The same one he'd come to take for granted over the last year-plus for the first time in his life, until Ford had changed all the rules.
But maybe not as much as Rodney had thought.
A soft Czech curse made Rodney look up, while Sheppard demanded, "What?"
"This cube." Radek looked up at the colonel. "It is not what made Rodney disappear."
"What!" Sheppard climbed to his feet, and Rodney slowly followed suit. "But that's what he was holding--I saw it."
"That may be, but the power source for this mechanism is burned out. See, here, and here?"
Rodney craned to look over their shoulders then, with a sigh, leaned through Zelenka for a moment, suppressing an instinctive shudder as he pulled back. "He's right," he said tiredly. "Whatever that thing was good for, it's garbage now."
"Is it possible it burned out doing what it did to Rodney?"
"No," the dark hair flopped as Zelenka shook his head, "the power source is badly corroded. This is not recent. Ten thousand years is a long time for a machine to remain functional--it is a miracle we find as many working as we do."
"Yeah, a miracle," Rodney mumbled. He sank back to the floor, tired and defeated.
"Okay, so this thing wasn't responsible for what happened to Rodney. That just means something else in here is."
"Well, that narrows it down." Oh, God, his head hurt.
"The difficulty will be in finding it," Radek said pessimistically.
There was a pause. Then a determined, "Maybe not." Sheppard moved off, to the shelves of machinery that lined the far wall.
It took a minute for that to sink in, then Rodney's head jerked up. "What? You're not thinking of--"
"You won't try it on yourself?" Radek took the words out of his mouth.
"Don't worry, I won't do anything stupid, Doc. I've just got an idea."
"Like there's a difference between those two," Rodney groused, but he was watching closely.
The colonel reached the shelves and stared for a long moment at its contents. Then he reached over and pulled a stool from a nearby worktable and planted it between himself and the shelves. He returned to staring then, motionless.
It happened so suddenly, they all jumped. A box on the shelf four times the size of the cube glowed briefly, its light almost eclipsed by a brilliant flash from the chair. Rodney pushed himself to his feet, staring. When the light faded, there was no change in the scene before him.
Except that John started to grin, and Radek laughed. Rodney stared at them both, perplexed, until Sheppard put a hand out and waved it through the stool.
Rodney's brain had to be more impaired than he'd thought: the stool was phased. Gone to them, still there to him. He made his unsteady way to it, then reached out disbelieving fingers to feel solid metal and plastic. "That's...impressive," he said.
Zelenka had already come up behind him and reached up now to take the box off the shelf. "Now that we have the right object, we can study it to see" He trailed off, then rattled something off in his native tongue. "We have been foolish--Colonel?"
"Yeah?" Sheppard asked warily.
"Perhaps we have been looking in the wrong place--Buckaroo Banzai was not as much fiction as we believed."
"Great, back to the movie. Can we focus here?" Rodney eased himself up onto the stool with a grateful sigh. At least that would stay solid under him.
Sheppard frowned. "I know it's a great movie, but--"
"No, no, listen. Buckaroo phases with the overthruster to go through the mountain, yes? Phasing is a scientific possibility--the SGC has had several experiences with it. Perhaps this device is a real overthruster, phasing instead of transporting or exploding."
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!" Rodney snapped. "Overthrusters, flux capacitors--it's science fiction."
Even the colonel looked doubtful. "Are you sure? Don't get me wrong, Doc, it just seems kinda out there, you know?"
"More so than going to other galaxies? There is no sign of explosion. Did you think of moving the chair?"
"No, it was more like just 'disappear.'"
"Moving requires destination, and there would be air displacement, law of thermodynamics. It is much likelier the chair and Rodney are still here."
"Thank God," Rodney said with weary relief. Now they were getting somewhere.
John's eyebrows climbed into his hair as he turned to look at the spot where the chair sat. "You mean he's been here all along? Like the Invisible Man, listening to us?"
"And now he worries," Rodney snorted.
"It is possible, yes."
"Uhjust for the record," John addressed the thin air, and Rodney. "I didn't mean anything I might've said. I mean, that I did say, if you were listening." That tilted Han Solo grin appeared. "That was just boredom talking."
Rodney rolled his eyes.
John gave him a last suspicious look, then glanced back at Zelenka and stage-whispered, "So what do we do now?"
"Try to think him back?" Radek offered.
John gave him, then the box, a pensive look, and closed his eyes. Rodney braced himself.
But no light, no pain, just a flutter of lightheadness.
Sheppard opened his eyes, mouth twisting at the sight, or lack of sight, of what was before him. "Rodney, if you're here, now would be the time to give it a try, too."
He'd already figured as much, pushing himself out of the chair to reach the box. It was as insubstantial to him as everything else in his non-phased world, but Rodney buried his fingers in its surface and concentrated. But his fingers stayed just as buried, and as he realized what the alternative might have been if it'd worked, Rodney yanked his hands out.
"I'm guessing that's a no," Sheppard finally said. "Okay, now what?"
Radek grimaced. "Perhaps there is a switch on the box?"
But there wasn't. Rodney sank back onto the stool as they looked.
Zelenka finally shrugged. "I will take it apart, see if it is possible to rewire it to reverse phasing."
"Assuming that's even what happened, that's still going to take a long time, Doc. McKay's been gone, what, about sixteen hours? Without food or water, he's probably already starting to get sick. Remember the time he fainted when he was wearing that shield?"
"Passed out." Rodney raised one hand, the other rubbing his face. He'd actually hoped for a minute they had an answer.
"We could phase some food for him?" Radek offered.
"Yeah, that's an idea if we go much longer, but" Sheppard gave Zelenka a hard look. "Do we have records on where all this stuff was found?" One hand waved back to the shelves of Ancient equipment.
Radek's eyebrows rose. "Yes." He picked up a clipboard from a nearby table. "You want to know about the device?"
"Yeah, it had crossed my mind."
Rodney's mouth curled at the hint of sarcasm. Radek was just flustered as he flipped through the pages. "Room 12, Section E5."
"E5, Room 12." Sheppard nodded. "So if that box is only for phasing, wouldn't it make sense for there to be another one for unphasing, or whatever it does?"
Radek tilted his head consideringly. "Everything in the rooms was brought here--nothing else was found."
Rodney's head had slowly risen. "I don't think that's where he's going with this."
"Everything we could see," John corrected. "What if there's a box or gadget there that's phased so only Rodney could find and use it? Or even directions--something."
Zelenka was nodding. "It would be worth checking."
Sheppard's mouth stretched into a grin. "That's what I thought, too." A glance behind him, although Rodney had already slid off the stool and moved next to Radek. "McKay, let's go."
He didn't need a second invitation, not that Sheppard would have known to offer one.
This time their pace was slower through the hallways, and even as Rodney opened his mouth to complain about time being of the essence, he realized why Sheppard had slowed. He knew, or at least hoped, Rodney was with him this time, and didn't want to leave him behind. Rodney's mouth shut again. As miserable as he was feeling, he probably couldn't have gone faster if he'd wanted to, anyway. And the colonel had probably taken that into account as well.
In fact, he'd already thrown a few awkward "Hang in there" and "We're almost there's" over his shoulder in Rodney's general direction. Uncomfortable with talking to someone he couldn't see and who possibly wasn't even there? Or still embarrassed about what he'd said in the gadget room? Rodney didn't know or care anymore, just heartily wanted to be back among the solid living, and solid foods.
Still, the words echoed in his head: He did a good job down there. Ford was gone because that was how life went sometimes, and no one blamed Rodney for it. In fact, they were even worried about him, the team otherwise intact, the rest of his friends still his friends. It didn't make the pain of that day go away, but it eased it considerably. If Rodney hadn't been feeling so awful, he would have actually felt pretty good.
He had friends, was a friend. Really, how amazing was that?
"This is it." John stopped at a door and opened it, then moved inside, weapon ready. Still protective, Rodney's mouth twitched, even though there was little in the city that was a danger to him in the state he was in. Nothing but his own body betraying him, and Rodney wrapped an arm around his queasy stomach as he followed Sheppard inside, hoping he didn't fall over without anything to lean against for support. The landscape had swayed gently during their whole trip down, and for the first time it felt like he was in a city on the water.
The room had been a workshop, strewn with oddly shaped worktables and built-in tools they hadn't yet learned how to operate. The tables themselves were empty, and Rodney felt a fierce pang of disappointment.
Then Sheppard stepped aside, moving to check the perimeter of the room, and the far table came into sight with its single content. A box, almost identical to the one in the gadget room.
Rodney forgot his body's complaints and moved forward determinedly, not bothering to skirt the tables and chairs in his way. They melted through him like fog, insubstantial, until he reached the table and stretched out shaking fingers.
Hard metal pressed against his skin, and he breathed a thank you to whatever deity could hear him even in phased form. Dimly aware of John somewhere behind him, Rodney placed both hands on the box, closed his eyes, and thought his most fervent wish.
He expected the flare of pain this time, clung to consciousness through it even as he felt his knees buckle and a cry tear from his throat. There was a clatter of movement, and then John Sheppard's worried face bent over him, eyes looking intently at instead of through him, his warm and very solid hand on Rodney's shoulder. Talking to him. "Hey. Good to see you."
Relieved, elated, and fading fast, Rodney tried for a grin. "Good to be seen," he whispered.
And then he was gone again.
*****
The hum of voices woke him.
Rodney licked dry lips. "Where am I?" he mumbled.
No one answered. As if he weren't there, and that thought woke him completely before he even realized why. But memory swiftly returned, and Rodney's eyes darted around the empty space by his bed, panic rising in his throat. His voice rose with it. "What's going on?"
"Take it easy, McKay," a voice soothed from down near his feet. "You're okay." Someone patted his leg, the hand lingering as if to assure him of its reality.
But it was already sinking in that he was in a bed that was solid beneath him, sheets sliding over his skin, a pillow cradling his head. And he could remember Sheppard before he passed out, definitely seeing him. With a groan of relief, Rodney flopped back down onto the pillow.
"Feels good, huh?" There was a smile in Sheppard's voice, and Rodney tilted his head just enough so he could see the man standing at the foot of his bed, just pulling his arm back to his side.
"You have no idea," Rodney said fervently.
Carson shouldered his way past the colonel and gave Rodney an assessing look. "Good to see you again. Em, you know what I mean. How do you feel?"
Rodney did a self-assessment, blinked. "Surprisingly good. Little bit of a headache." He pushed himself higher in bed and winced. "And, ow, okay, sore. But solid." Rodney grinned happily, patting the bed under him.
John leaned close to Beckett. "You think he means 'dense'?"
Rodney threw him a glare.
"I think you'll live," Carson said dryly. "The phasing and the glucose drop took a lot out of ya, so I want you to rest today--and that means no henpecking visitors," he turned a warning finger on Sheppard, who held up his hands placatingly. "But I don't see any reason you can't sleep in your bed tonight."
"My bed," Rodney said dreamily. His room, his stuff. Food. He snapped out of his reverie. "Uh, can I have some lunch? A couple of sandwiches maybe, some pie?" He wasn't as hungry as before, which was probably thanks to the IV in his arm, but he was already salivating at the thought of eating something.
"Try, dinner," Sheppard said, but Carson nodded.
"I'll see about getting you a tray sent up." And with a rare contented smile at the status of a patient, he also patted Rodney's leg and left.
Sheppard moved around to the side of the bed and sat down on its edge, arms crossed, his hip nestled against Rodney's feet. "I hope you learned a lesson from all this."
Rodney turned gingerly onto his back. "Yes. I should always carry some food with me, just in case."
"Actually, I was thinking more like being careful when you're experimenting with alien devices."
"Oh, please," Rodney waved him off, "I'm always careful. It wasn't even the one I was working on this time that got me."
"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. I did a little experiment while you were sleeping, and you know how hard I had to think about making something disappear for that box to work from across the room like that?"
"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."
John gave him a hard look. "Oh, I don't think I have to. Or why I figure you were thinking it that hard."
Rodney squirmed, wishing he could disappear again, and just as quickly taking it back.
"Look, I figure I've done more than enough talking lately--I don't want to even know what you overheard yesterday." It was the colonel's turn to look uncomfortable. "I justwant to make sure we're okay here."
He still looked tired. Shadowed. Partly because of Ford, but Rodney didn't sell himself short thinking the lieutenant was the only cause. There was a reason Sheppard was sitting up against him like that, and it wasn't just to reassure Rodney.
He nodded soberly, for once not going with the glib answer, not with Sheppard looking at him like that. "We're okay."
A nod, then a sudden grin. "Good." His leg was clapped harder this time, making him wince, and John stood. "Now, let's see about getting you some food before you waste away and go see-through on us again."
Rodney made a face at him. "Ha-ha. Laugh it up, Monkey Boy."
The colonel jerked to a stop and turned to give Rodney an accusing look. He smiled back, all cheerful innocence. A dark shake of the head and Sheppard walked away.
But there wasn't a doubt in Rodney's mind now: he'd be back.
