Static

The annoying, scratchy beep of the radio in John Sheppard's ear was almost ignorable.

Almost.

The problem with that annoying, scratchy beep was that it just kept on and on and on, and whoever it was didn't seem to care that he'd had some kind of crazy version of the Pegasus flu, that he'd dragged his ass out of bed to try and save a bunch of kids down on the third level who shouldn't have been there at all. No. They didn't, and it was just going to keep on until he answered the damn thing.

One heavy arm moved upwards until he could fumble his radio back onto his ear, close and steady. "'s'z Sheppard," he mumbled, not opening his eyes.

~Sheppard. It's McKay.~ God, and wherever he was had shitty reception, because his voice crackled in and out, thick with static. ~Am I coming in?~

"Yeah. Where're you at, Rodney? You're gonna need to work on the booster for these things. I can't hear you worth a damn." Oh. Hey. He had it on backwards, or maybe it was upside-down. John fiddled with it a minute, ignoring the bursts of thick fuzz. "Can you hear me now?"

~I can hear you. I'm -- I'm stuck in a ventilation shaft, and I'd really like to get out of here. I keep thinking of that horrible Christmas parody, the 'there's something stuck up in the chimney' and maybe you never heard it. I can hardly breathe.~

Okay, that got John's attention. "Where are you, Rodney? Tell me exactly." It was good that he'd fallen asleep in his BDUs. He'd been too damned tired to strip them off, and he hadn't even gotten wet, so there was no point.

There was a reason they had Marines on Atlantis, after all. That was their job, not that he wouldn't do it if he had to. He just hadn't. Had to, that was.

~I'm in section H, second floor. I was in here because Sperring was scared to go in here, and something moved, and now -- now his irrational fear doesn't seem so irrational anymore, because I can't see the exit. My radio doesn't seem to want to connect very well, I've had to cross some wires....~

"I'm on it," John promised, and left the radio on. After all, if McKay was having trouble, it was probably best that he didn't let him go, just in case something shifted again while he was down there. "Just hang in there, buddy. I'm gonna go scrounge up Radek, okay? See if we can get some schematics pulled while I head down there."

~Great. Great, I'd appreciate that. You can run, if you feel the need, because it's really cramped in here.~ And Rodney was claustrophobic, along with his ten thousand other phobias. ~There's definitely air flowing through here. At least I'm not going to suffocate?~

"I'm running, McKay. I'm gonna... just gimme a few minutes. I don't wanna hang up on you, and I need to get somebody else with a radio who can hear what's going on and get everybody marshaled to take care of things." Ronon was probably still awake, and his room wasn't far, so John hurried a little faster, banged on the door good and hard. "Hey! Ronon! We've got an emergency!"

There was only a slight delay before the door slammed open, so John was met with Ronon's bulk filling it, already mostly dressed. "What's the emergency?"

"McKay's trapped somewhere in section H, a floor above where the kids were. The ventilation shaft he was working in collapsed. I've told him and told him...."

~I know, I know,~ Rodney's voice proclaimed. He sounded tired, and the static was getting worse. ~C'mon, John. It was a quick job, in and out, and everybody was...~ Something something something. He couldn't make it out.

"Everybody was what?" John asked. "Hey, but get a rescue crew together. I'm heading on down. And call Zelenka."

"I'm on it," Ronon rumbled, heading back into his room for his radio.

~Busy, saving kids. Hey, if I'm stuck -- really stuck -- I want you to tell my sister that I died in that. Not here, because this is the -- the most innocuous, stupid sort of death to have in Pegasus. I can't believe how dark it is in here...~

"I swear to God, I'll tell Jeannie you died saving kids. Geeze, McKay. You're not going to die." So long as he had air, they had time. John started jogging. Ronon would roll out the rescue teams quick, and he figured by the time he made it down, winded and coughing, they'd be hard at work.

Rodney would be okay and alive to bitch him out another day. ~Don't cut me off! It's really dark in here. I can't even tell my eyes are open, and usually you can at least sense the dark. It's...~ He faded out again, static probably as John passed through a dead spot. ~There are things I want to say. In case. Just in case.~

"Okay, McKay. Okay. You can say 'em, just... we're gonna get you out, buddy." And if Rodney was that scared, then John was moving faster, because it was making him nervous as hell.

~I should have said something before now. But you were probably -- are probably the best friend I've ever had. And you -- you don't have to say a thing, all right, once you get me out of here we can pretend this never happened, but I've been -- what I mean to say is that you're my friend, but I also -- you're more than a friend to me, you... And I'm glad I could get a hold of you, I really am, because I just wanted to say that I love you. When you get me out of here, we can call it a crazy hallucination, whatever, because you're as straight as a perfectly level vertical plane if it's not affected by gravity.~

"Jesus, Rodney!" That wasn't his voice. His voice didn't crack like that. No way. "It's... don't... I'm coming to get you. Okay? I'm gonna come get you, and you're gonna be fine, and we can... We'll talk about it." Yeah. And John wouldn't lose his shit right there in the hall, either.

~Okay.~ He couldn't hear Rodney breathing, but he had to be hyperventilating. ~I can't feel my hands. I really should be able to, shouldn't I? But I can't feel my hands. I can't feel the walls.~

"It's because you're panicking, Rodney." God, he wished he was up to running, just a little faster. He kept having to stop and cough up wads of phlegm, and that was pretty nasty. He could hear the rescue crew, though, coming in ahead of him someplace. That was good. "What'd you think about in the puddlejumper?"

~Wide open fields. I, I thought about wide open fields, back home. It's not snow all the time in Canada, we had four seasons like the rest of you do, and it's so... I miss it. I miss it and why can't I find my goddamned hands? Everything's starting to tingle.~

Okay. That wasn't good. John would call that really fucking bad, actually. "Hold on for me, Rodney. Can you hold on?" They were there, shouting, working, just up ahead, and John sped up, moving faster, spat the wad of nasty lung gunk onto the floor as he went. He'd just have to clean it up later.

It didn't matter quite as much as the voice in his ear.

~I'm holding on. I'm really holding on, but this is starting to worry me, because I need my hands. I'm Indispensable to this mission and I need my hands...~

"I know, Rodney. I know. We're gonna... I'm almost there. Carson's bound to be there, or on his way, c'mon. Buck up, we're gonna... it'll be all right," he swore, even though something in the pit of his belly screamed that it was a lie, a vicious, evil lie, because everything wasn't right. Something.

Something wasn't right.

He wasn't sure what it was.

~Okay. I'm, I'm trusting you about this because you've gotten me out of things like this before and Carter's -- well, I told myself on some level that you'd -- my team -- would be up there on the surface looking for me, and you're my team even if I'm not underwater, and -- please, please get me out of here, this is...~

"I'm right here, Rodney." He said it out loud, said it over the radio as he walked into the room where the emergency team was working, and a couple of them turned to look at him, Carson standing close by, shifting.

"Colonel, I don't think... that is, I think perhaps you'd better sit down. You're looking peaky, and it's not... it's not going to be a pretty sight, y'understand."

~Something's wrong. John, what's wrong? Why can't I hear the team? Where are you?~

A glance past Carson said it all, said everything he needed to know, and John turned his head to the side and puked, vomited up everything he'd eaten in the last week and maybe the week before that, chucked it all up as if he hadn't been doing it just three days before.

Yeah.

Yeah, something was wrong all right.

~John? Colonel! Talk to me, say something. Don't leave me like this, it's dark in here, and I can't move or, or see, or anything, I thought you were going to get me out of here...~

But he was already out. He was already being laid out on a stretcher, what was left of him. There had to be something in that shaft, some compression unit, maybe, that closed off the shaft to block interfering objects. But he'd never seen a body crushed like that, mangled like Rodney had been in a garbage compactor. His hands were crushed, his face was crushed, his shoulders were twisted on a diagonal that no human body was meant to be in. His chest was still.

His voice was in John's ear.

~John?~

Carefully -- so, so incredibly carefully -- John reached up, and shut off his radio.