A/N: This story was inspired by a camping trip with friends and family a few years ago. One afternoon it rained steadily, and all nine of us stayed in our large tent, chatting, playing games with the raindrops sliding down the canvas, just enjoying being in the moment, with no sense of urgency and that cosiness you always get when the damp is firmly outside and you are warm and dry. So, for contrast, in my story the team had to get rather cold and wet. And muddy!

Chapter 1

The soft patter of raindrops on the canvas above John's head was like a lullaby. Gentle, reassuring, the sound of summer rain that has set in for the day, falling in a steady, even pattern, cleansing the air of heat and dust, refreshing the lush, green vegetation that surrounded the Athosian camp.

John drifted off to sleep again, but once more jerked awake after a few seconds, his head turning quickly toward the other three occupants of the large tent. Teyla sat on the carpet-covered ground, one leg crossed, the other, with bandaged ankle, stuck out in front of her, upright but relaxed, her eyes closed, her face, a little paler than usual, at peace. Rodney lay on one of the beds, leaning against a stack of cushions, tapping at his laptop, occasionally rubbing his chest with a grimace of discomfort. Ronon sat on the floor, stoically fixing some long, jagged rents in his leather coat, bandages visible on his arms and John knew there were more elsewhere.

"Still here, Sheppard," grunted Ronon, without looking up.

"Just checking," said John sheepishly.

"Yes, for like the fiftieth time!" exclaimed Rodney. "Why don't you just go to sleep?"

"Trying," mumbled John.

He turned away, feeling his body protesting. The canvas door was fastened back to allow the mild breeze to circulate. John could see the raindrops still falling steadily, creating a grey haze in the air, obscuring his view of the forest that bordered the camp. His eyes fell to a slowly-forming puddle and he watched the random splashes of the raindrops and felt his eyes grow heavy once more.

He was back in the Ancient facility on another forest-covered planet. Here it was cold though, autumn heading for winter with a bitter breeze and intermittent showers of stinging sleet. Rodney was tapping excitedly at his laptop, hooked up to the console in front of him, which held in its centre that holy grail of Ancient tech, a ZPM.

"How much juice do you think that thing has, McKay?" asked John.

"To be honest, probably not much," replied Rodney. "But maybe enough for a couple of months of power for Atlantis."

"Coupl'a months sounds fair enough," said John. He looked around the deserted facility, the octagonal room, roof intact, but invaded by creepers which had climbed the walls and had had to be torn away from the console so that Rodney could work. "Hmm..." He chewed his lower lip in thought.

Rodney rolled his eyes and stood up straight.

"Okay, that must be the tenth time you've done that!"

"Done what?" asked John.

"The looking around, the 'hmm', that thing when you chew on your lips as if contemplating the many and varied possibilities for disaster!"

"That's my job, Rodney, thinking about all the things that could go wrong and trying to stop them!"

Rodney folded his arms and faced John, with a challenge in his eyes. "So tell me, Great Protector, what's going to go wrong this time? A ZPM here for the taking, just about ready to disconnect and we can be on our merry way back to Atlantis. No natives with spears, guns or assorted ordnance, no Genii, no Wraith... What could go wrong?"

John winced. "Don't say that, Rodney! Plenty of things could go wrong, but I was just thinking...well, don't you think this has been a little too easy?"

"So we're complaining about easy missions now, are we? Well, as it happens, I've come prepared!" Rodney reached into a pocket of his tac vest and pulled out a personal shield, not the usual green colour, but this time a translucent cherry red. "When I make the final disconnection I shall be wearing this cleverly enhanced shield, which will protect me from any and all booby-traps those pesky Ancients might have left lying in wait for unwary scientists!"

"Okay, then," said John reluctantly. "That thing's not going to protect me or Teyla or Ronon, though"

"I'm sure you'll be fine if you just wait outside," said Rodney, flapping his arms at John in the direction of the door. "That's it, out you go, Colonel, won't be long!"

John stepped outside where Ronon and Teyla were keeping watch, uncomplainingly in the now freezing rain.

"Anything to report?" asked John.

"Hail, a bit of sleet and now rain," said Ronon, his hair and clothes dripping, his cheeks red with cold.

"Teyla?"

"I believe there may be some wild predators inhabiting this forest," she replied. "Something like a large cat."

"Well, let's hope they decide to stay home out of the rain," said John.

"He nearly done in there?" asked Ronon.

John opened his mouth to speak, but his words were drowned by a massive explosion. Dust and debris shot out of the door and the three teammates struggled to keep their balance in the shockwave that made the ground quake. The dust settled.

"Stay here," said John, "I'm going in."

John peered cautiously through the shattered remains of the door. He could see the central console was reduced to a mangled distortion of metal, the ZPM a blackened husk. The floor was covered with rubble and beneath a large pile, John could see glimpses of Rodney's uniform.

"Ronon, get in here!" he shouted.

Ronon ran in and between them they began hauling rubble away, revealing Rodney's body beneath.

"No-one could survive that!" said Ronon.

"They could with one of those," said John as he lifted away a block of masonry, revealing the shield device still attached to Rodney's chest. The device had turned black and a large area of Rodney's uniform was burned away or scorched, showing an angry red patch on his chest beneath. John felt for his pulse and was relieved to find it, although worried that it was quick and erratic.

Ronon had checked Rodney for other injuries. "Can't find any broken bones," he said.

"Good, but I think we need to get him back, fast," said John. "Our next check-in's not for a couple of hours. We'll make a stretcher and get him as far as we can, then call for a Jumper."

"On it," said Ronon, springing up and taking out his largest knife, ready to fell some saplings.

oOo

Rodney did not regain consciousness in the time it took them to make a stretcher. They loaded him carefully onto it, covered him with emergency blankets from their tac vests and set off in the direction of the Stargate.

The terrain around the Stargate was a mixture of pine and deciduous forest, the deciduous trees all having shed their leaves, making the going slippery underfoot. There were also open, rocky areas where the wind flew in their faces with its full force, driving the alternate rain and sleet before it, stinging their faces and freezing exposed hands.

"I think there was a case to be made for bringing winter gear," commented John, with gritted teeth.

"The MALP did not show the weather to be quite this inclement!" shouted Teyla, above the roar of the wind.

Ronon just adjusted his grip on his end of the stretcher and plodded on.

The river they had traversed to reach the Ancient facility had, of course, risen. There had at one time been a substantial stone bridge which had long since fallen, but significant chunks of masonry had been left to form negotiable stepping stones. Some of the stones were now underwater and a worrying amount of debris was being washed downriver, ready to swipe unwary travellers into the dirty brown torrent.

It had, however, at least stopped raining or sleeting or hailing.

"Well, it's not going to get any lower for us standing here watching it," said John.

"I'll carry McKay," said Ronon. "You take the stretcher."

"Alright, good plan," John agreed.

Ronon picked up Rodney in a fireman's lift and strode boldly out onto the stepping stones. He stopped once to watch a large branch sweep over the stone ahead of him, but made it without incident, setting Rodney down under the trees on a dry patch of ground.

"Teyla, you next, I'll follow," said John.

Teyla stepped nimbly over the stones, John slower, balancing the stretcher awkwardly. Suddenly Ronon shouted urgently, "There's a load of logs coming!"

John and Teyla looked up and saw the logs tumbling and crashing toward them. John stepped back toward the far bank, Teyla jumped across the next two stones, avoiding most of the logs, which swept over the stones behind her. Another log crashed into the stone Teyla was on, making it shift on the riverbed. Teyla wobbled but righted herself. Then the pressure of the water forced the log on over the top of the stone. Teyla jumped over it, but when she landed the stone shifted again and tipped her into the water downstream.

She clung on by her fingertips and John jumped over the intervening stones and reached out for her but the rushing water was too powerful and her fingertips too numb. Before John could reach her she was swept away into the raging torrent. John held out the stretcher, hoping she could grab hold of it. He felt her hand grip the handle but then the stone under him tipped once more and he too slid, feet scrabbling in vain for purchase. He saw Ronon trying to get to him but more debris was hurtling down the river, over the stepping stones. John slid into the icy water and the stretcher was immediately knocked out of his hand. He couldn't see Teyla. He was forced underwater, flailed his arms and came up again to find himself rushing along, Ronon and the stepping stones receding into the distance. John did his best to swim for shore, slamming into submerged rocks, branches and debris knocking into him, forcing him beneath the surface where he couldn't help but swallow some of the dirty brown water. He came to an abrupt halt where logs had stuck against several rocks and hauled himself with numb hands toward the river bank. The logs shifted, about to give way and he kicked hard with his legs and launched himself as far as he could. He realised the water was no longer tugging at him and he dragged himself further into the sheltered area, shakily getting his feet under himself and staggering toward the shore. Suddenly there was an arm around him, helping and he was out of the water and being lowered to sit down against a tree safely up the river bank.

John looked up at Ronon. "Teyla?" he asked.

Ronon shook his head.