WHIRLWIND - by NotTasha
Yes... it's time. Here is the final chapter.

PART 17: THWAP

John Sheppard loved to fly.

He loved flying more than just about anything. Put him in the seat of an aircraft and he was happy. He'd flown Wraith darts before. He knew what he was getting into, but it didn't stop him from being creeped out by the dart.

The ship just wasn't "right".

He still liked the flying part though.

There was little time to think about it. Certainly, some of the Wraith in the fallen darts survived their crashes. Most of the ships in the final attack had fallen far from them, but a dedicated Wraith could cross the distance quickly.

It was only a matter of time before the Hive was able to awaken from the EMP Pulse, repair itself, and go back into action. Of course, if they were lucky, the wraith would suffocate without life support -- or maybe the ship would burn up if it was drawn toward the planet's gravity. That would be cool.

So, there was little room for messing around. He sent up a thank you to Radcliff and Woodward, Luther and Valeria for getting the Gate prepped so quickly. The sooner they all left this ruined planet, the better. He had to bring his people home.

'Their' dart had shaken off its stupor by the time he reached it again. He jumped into the pilot seat, lowered the hood and was airborne in seconds. Teyla was at the Gate by the time he reached it, looking a little wan. Communicating with the Wraith always left her played-out and she moved with a muddled expression.

He landed long enough for Teyla and the Colo to attach the cables to the dart as best they could.

Would this even work? How heavy did McKay say the Gate was? Something about 'damn heavy' and 'elephants'. It would be one hell of a grunt.

So, once Teyla and the others were satisfied with the attachment, Sheppard told them to "Step back. In fact, why don't you step WAY back? Why don't you jog toward the town a bit?" He had nightmare visions of cables snapping, of friends cut in two, of the giant Gate rolling like a penny for miles.

Once they were clear, he activated the dart's controls and said, "Here we go."

He lifted off easily enough, but once the dart felt the weight at the ends of the cables as he hovered, the engines fought. He could hear the struggle, feel the ship tremble and curse at him. The stressed materials screamed bloody murder as he pressed the ship upward. The cables sang under stress.

"One end is lifting," Teyla declared over the radio.

The dart pitched, the front dipping as he forced the ship upward in its hover. He fought it, bringing it level. The ship seemed to shriek at him, spewing hatred, but he jammed the controls upward, giving it no leeway. Everything vibrated around him.

"John?" Teyla called anxiously. "John, are you certain the ship will withstand this?"

It must have been making a hell of a sound from outside, too, he realized.

"John," Teyla called again. "It's destroying the ship! Will you be safe?"

"I don't give a crap if this destroys the ship." And at the moment, he didn't quite care if he was safe either. They had no time for pussyfooting around. They needed to get Rodney back to Atlantis -- they needed to get everyone off the planet. Any moment, they'd be overcome with Wraith. He was not going to leave his people stuck in this mess. "All I want to do is" He put more power to the ship. It wailed and shimmied in distress. " flip the damn GATE."

Another burst of power and he felt the Gate come fully upright beneath him. It rested for a moment on its edge, but the dart, maxed out on power, and without the full weight of the Gate holding it back, surged forward, slinging the Gate with it.

With wide eyes and a second from impact, John fought the controls, bringing the nose of the dart up just as the ship and the Gate belly-flopped into the ground with a THWAP.

He felt the impact in his bones, in every sinew of his body. His ears rang and for a moment or two, the world dimmed. His teeth hurt. He couldn't breathe.

"John! John!"

Ow yeah hurt. He felt crushed. He gasped again, the wind knocked out of him.

"John!"

He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear his head. He gagged and choked as he finally was able to draw in a lungful of air. Smoke, thick foul smoke filled the cockpit.

He struggled to breathe. The cockpit felt distorted, as if it had folded in on him. Blindly, he felt about, and reached for the cabin release, and blowing the top off the maligned craft.

Fresh air reached him, but he coughed as the smoke kept billowing. He struggled, trying to free himself. The ship was mashed, deformed, and on fire whether it was from the impact or the cruel use, Sheppard couldn't be sure. He just knew that he was having a hell of a time getting out, and that the flames were getting closer.

Hands reached for him. Through the simmering clouds of smoke, he saw Teyla's concerned face. She grasped his arms and tugged. He twisted his foot one-way and flexed a leg and suddenly he could feel himself coming free. He crawled, working his way out of the mess.

Teyla pulled again, and he flopped out of the ship, falling almost on top of her as they collapsed into the bent wheat. Clemmon and Gilbert were suddenly there, offering help, getting them to their feet and way from the shattered dart. Sheppard hobbled, feeling aches and hurts all through his body.

Once out of the stench of the smoke, he turned.

The Gate didn't look that much different. It still lay flat on the ground, but this time, the chevrons were visible. It faced a prefect concave copy of itself, indented into the soil.

He'd managed it.

All they needed to do was detach the cables that connected it to the broken dart and wire it into the DHD to power it. Might take some doing, but the hard part was over.

With a sigh of relief, Sheppard looked to Teyla and found her smiling at him.

"Time to get the hell out of here," John declared, thankful and goddamn glad. He couldn't wait to get back with his team, make sure that they were all okay. "Let's get everyone moving."

"How will we walk through the wormhole," she asked and gestured to the strange position of the Gate. "How will we do it without injuring " she paused, taking in John's appearance, " without further injuring ourselves and the others."

"I hadn't thought about that," John told her, rolling one shoulder -- stopping quickly as the ache took control. "We'll work something out."

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The klaxon sounded as the chevrons illuminated on the stargate. "Off-world activation," the Canadian technician declared, and then a grin his face as he declared, "It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC!"

A happy chatter rose up around her in the gateroom.

Weir spun to face the event horizon, feeling a mountain of stress fall from her shoulders. Thank you, she thought. Thank you.

She signaled to Chuck to lower the shield as she touched her radio. "Colonel?" she called, worried and relieved at the same time. "We were unable to make contact. What happened?"

"Had a bit of a problem with the Gate," John drawled over the radio.

She smiled, grateful to hear him. "Is that all?" she asked.

"Tornadoes, buildings falling on certain scientists, really big guns, Wraith, paralytic agents that sort of thing."

Weir stiffened, and asked, "Is everyone all right?"

There was a pause. "We lost Radcliff and Woodward," he said, his voice betraying his hurt even as he kept the words even.

Elizabeth sighed at the news, feeling a sorrow sweep over her. "Understood," she said softly.

"And McKay's a lot worse for the wear. He'll need the infirmary. Hell, most of us will need a visit." He sounded infinitely tired.

Weir nodded to Chuck, and the technician sent the message through to the infirmary. A medical team would be there in a matter of moments. "We're ready," Weir told him.

"Great. We're coming home," Sheppard announced. "Ah, might be a bit unconventional."

Weir frowned at the statement, and then looked in disbelief as Teyla came through the event horizon, rolling on her side and into the gateroom. She stopped herself quickly and stood, looking toward Weir with a smile. She looked a little battered, scratched and disheveled, but otherwise well except for the crease of her forehead that told of a weariness.

She stepped out of the way for Beckett, who came through the same way.

Beckett climbed to his knees and called over the radio, "All right then, we're through. Send him over, nice and easy now."

Rodney was the next one to roll through the event horizon. He'd gone no further than a few inches before Teyla and Beckett, caught him.

Weir furrowed her brow, concerned. McKay, bandaged and bruised, feebly lifted a hand as they maneuvered him. The Marines in the gate room edged forward to help and they gingerly moved him out of the way.

"Careful... careful..." Beckett ordered the men as they helped move the scientist. "Hang on there, Rodney," he told the bloodied and beaten man as they settled him out of the way.

"Rodney?" Weir called, astounded. The scientist looked as if a house had been dropped on him. She looked toward Beckett, alarmed. "We have people on the way, Carson," she told him.

The doctor nodded gratefully and gave her a quiet smile, seeming glad to simply be back on familiar turf. He gave Rodney a soft pat on the arm and the man made a quiet murmur.

"We are ready," Teyla announced.

Ronon came through next, followed by a cascade of tumbling packs and gear. The Satedan was scraped, cut and bruised with fresh bandages coming a little undone after his unconventional means of entering the gateroom. He made a quick job of clearing the obstacles. Then, he stood, a grim look on his face as he approached the event horizon. "Done," he said over the radio.

"We're sending them through," Sheppard announced.

Weir watched in fascination, wondering what was going to happen next. Her silent question was sadly answered when a form came through, wrapped in a quilt. Ronon quickly caught the body, easing it down the steps. When the Marine guards moved forward to help, Ronon gave them a sharp shake of the head to make them back off, and he placed the body on the opposite side of the gate from Rodney.

Beckett was talking to his people over the radio, issuing orders on what he needed when they arrived.

The Satedan glanced up to Weir before he returned to his place at the event horizon. He touched his radio. "Okay." And the second body rolled in, wrapped in what must have once been a pretty wall hanging. He eased the second body down to where the Marines stood near the first.

That done, Ronon announced, "We're clear."

Huxley rolled through, followed by Sheppard. John stopped himself quickly and stood, with some effort as he cradled a strange looking weapon in his arms. He glanced at McKay and the rest of his people, before turning to Weir and stating, "That was different."

The two stood Huxley cut and battered Sheppard with healing scrapes, but standing as if every muscle in his body hurt.

Weir's face screwed up in confusion. "Why?" she started.

Sheppard lifted a hand. "Gate was on its back."

"And, should I ask, how in did you manage to knock a stargate on its back?" Weir asked, exasperated.

"Hey! Why do you think it was us?" Sheppard asked. "Haven't you ever heard of natural disasters?"

Weir cocked her head and gave him that look.

"Okay, so we were the ones that knocked it on its back, but don't blame us for how it fell the first time!" Sheppard declared.

"And so, you rolled through?" Weir prompted.

"Once we figured out where the 'bottom' of the ring was, we thought the easiest way to go through was to lay down on the face of the Gate and roll over the edge and into the wormhole." Sheppard jammed thumb at Ronon, wobbling slightly at that movement. "He wanted to take a run and jump. You know, a cannonball. Figured we saved him some broken bones with our idea. Worked."

Ronon shrugged and looked annoyed.

"And you were sure this would work?" Weir stated, not sounding convinced, watching as Beckett checked over his patient.

"We tried it out on the Colo first," Sheppard explained smugly. "Needed to get them off the planet because, in spite of everything, they didn't deserve to be Wraith kibble. We let one of the use a radio and started rolling them through." He smiled, pleased with himself. "Sent them to a planet of their choice. Radioed them to make sure we were using a good angle and that no one was dropping from the top of the Gate or something. Figure we can pick up the radio later."

With a sigh, he continued "Didn't really have a lot of time to waste. What with the Wraith about to come back at any moment, and the C4 about to go off." When Weir raised her eyebrows, he explained, "Had to dispose of a couple things. Make sure the Wraith didn't get their hands on them."

Beckett stood, stating, "And I'll need to be checking in on some of the Colo, they're still under my care."

Weir nodded, "We'll send a team," she stated as she looked over the doctor. The man was exhausted. "You're going to get some rest."

Carson looked ready to fight her, but instead conceded with an, "Aye."

Returning her gaze to John, Weir wondered about the device in his grasp, but decided that she would ask more questions later. They all looked like hell. This wasn't the time for further questioning.

With a clatter and a bustle of activity, a gurney and a couple wheelchairs arrived with the medical teams. Under Beckett's supervision, Rodney was quickly and carefully lifted to the first transport.

Rodney blinked blearily as he stared up at Beckett, seeming more asleep than awake. He smiled crookedly, perhaps recognizing the ceiling of Atlantis, then a panicked look crossed his face and he fought, trying to sit up. "Wait, wait," he rasped.

"It's all right, Rodney," Beckett said softly, pressing him back down. "Calm down."

"But" McKay started, "Where's"

"We're here," Sheppard told him, stepping close enough for Rodney to see him. "We made it back, Rodney. Teyla and Ronon, too." He patted his friend lightly on the chest, and McKay's eyes closed as he drifted back to sleep.

With a nod, Beckett directed his staff, and the gurney was wheeled away, back toward the infirmary.

When Sheppard and Ronon tried to follow, Beckett cut them off quickly and pointed to the two wheelchairs. "You boys are getting a ride today," he explained, his voice even and uncompromising.

"I can walk," Sheppard declared.

"After you tangled with a tornado and then crashed a dart straight into the ground? I think not," Beckett countered.

Weir gasped, asking, "What did you say?"

Sheppard waved away her concern. "It's nothing," he told her. "Nothing."

Beckett kept talking. "Colonel, you're hardly steady on your feet and I won't have you breaking bones on your way to the infirmary. And don't YOU try to get out of it!" he said, turning on Ronon. "After carryin' Rodney over half the planet, and all my work stitching you back to together, you're getting a ride."

Sheppard looked to Ronon, expecting a fight, but the big man knew better. There was no point in combating Beckett in anything medical. The doctor always won. The Satedan, like a well trained dog, settled into one of the chairs without another word.

Looking a little disgusted, Sheppard took the other, settling the gun in his lap.

Huxley stepped closer to Beckett. "What about me?" he asked, holding his arms so that the worst of his scrapes were hidden.

"Son," Beckett said with a smile. "You can walk."

With that, the medic gave Sheppard a triumphant smile and started toward the infirmary.

Beckett turned, taking in the Athosian, who stood with her head bowed and her brow furrowed, the scrapes from her early encounter with the tornado were still visible. "Teyla, lass, you're coming, too. I'll give you something for that headache. Everyone, now."

Beckett started to the infirmary, with Teyla beside him and the two wheelchairs following, leaving Weir with the rest of the Gate Room staff to wonder what the hell just happened.

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John moved carefully through the corridors of Atlantis, feeling the strained muscles and aches from the crash landing, the lashing from the earlier encounter with the tornado. All he wanted to do was sit in his quarters and relax -- and maybe take in a movie.

After all they'd been through, he figured he deserved it. They'd discovered a powerful new weapon, defeated a Wraith Hive and its complement of darts, righted and flattened a Gate.

It was a pity they had to blow up the EMP Cannon, but they couldn't allow it to fall into the hands of the Wraith. He lost no sleep over blowing up the Wraith canister timers were helpful things, indeed. With any luck, whatever was in that bomb would knock out the Wraith too probably not, but they could always hope.

Yes, time to sit back and relax.

The thing was, he realized that he could just as easily accomplish this goal in another location. So he moved through the hallway, counting the steps, feeling every one of his bruises, until he reached the quarters that connected to the main lab.

McKay would enjoy ' The Blues Brothers'. And, it would probably be better if the astrophysicist had company. Someone should keep an eye on him if he was recovering from a head wound, right?

Beckett had been able to get a CT scan for McKay and checking him over with the Ancients' scanners. The CMO was finally relieved to discover no permanent damage nothing that a few meds, bed rest, a pint or two of blood, sufficient hydration and a good meal couldn't solve. So, after keeping him for a day in the infirmary, and finding him coherent and irritated, the newly re-patched physicist was allowed to return to his room if he behaved himself.

Someone should check to make sure, Sheppard reasoned.

Sheppard lifted his hand to activate the chime at the door and heard a booming laugh and strange music. The door slid open.

Apparently, he wasn't the first one to come up with this idea.

McKay was sitting up in bed, on top of the covers, with a bunch of pillows shoved behind him to cushion his back and head. He was still a little too pale, still bandaged and bruised, but infinitely better than he'd been on the planet. Rodney's expression pinched, showing annoyance, but the aggrieved expression melted when he realized who it was.

He offered Sheppard only a tilt of the head. John accepted that as his invitation.

Ronon had pulled the desk chair up beside Rodney and was using the bed for his footrest. McKay didn't look too happy about having Ronon's boots beside him. Teyla had moved another chair into the room by the look of the seat, it was the one that usually occupied the hall outside of McKay's quarters and she sat with her legs curled under her. Somehow, she'd managed to get her hands on some popcorn. She held it in her lap as she smiled up at Sheppard.

Ronon and McKay were both bandaged and bruised. Teyla still looked rather spent. The movie continued to play on McKay's laptop on the nearby desk.

Ronon laughed again, boisterously, and Sheppard caught a glimpse of flying monkeys tearing apart a scarecrow.

When Sheppard gave McKay a strange look, the scientist jabbed at thumb in Ronon's direction. "His choice," he said long-sufferingly.

Sheppard held up his DVD. "It's 106 miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses."

Ronon looked away from the screen long enough to check the cover of the movie. "We're on a mission from God!" he quoted seriously, and returned his attention to the laptop's screen where the tin man and the lion were smashing bits of straw back into the scarecrow. He laughed again.

Sheppard shook his head and moved further into Rodney's room. He still looked sick, Sheppard realized. With Teyla and Ronon sitting on either side of the bed, he also appeared rather trapped in place. Sheppard grinned.

"Hey," he said, remembering. He pulled something from his pocket and pitched it at the scientist.

Rodney fumbled it at his chest, frowning as he tried to read the box. "Toothpaste?"

"You said you were out," Sheppard responded. "We wouldn't want you to walk around here and not be minty fresh." He gave McKay's feet a thwap, forcing the man to move them over, and Sheppard found a place at the foot of the bed.

Rodney grumbled and set the tube of toothpaste on his bedside table.

Teyla, looking more relaxed than she had since she connected with the Wraith, handed Sheppard a bowl of popcorn after he was settled. He took a handful and shoved the bowl at Ronon.

"Hey," McKay cried. "What about me? I'm the one that's really hurt. The rest of you got off easy."

Ronon took a massive handful of popcorn and pushed the bowl back at Sheppard who grabbed more, and finally, with a look of reluctance, passed it over to Rodney.

The Canadian took the bowl, with a scowl, and settled it on his lap, determined to keep it in his possession for a while.

He looked better, John realized -- still pale and a bit unsteady. Beckett had ordered him to take it easy for the next few days which for McKay usually meant he would try to work 12 hour days instead of the regular 16 to 20 hours.

It was a rarity that Rodney would simply remain in his room without some sort of project to keep him occupied.

Sheppard gazed at Teyla and Ronon, knowing why they'd come here, understanding why the laptop was currently being used for 'movie night'. He recognized that Teyla had brought a DVD, too. "The Princess Bride" was tucked beside her, to wait its turn.

Ronon laughed again as the Wicked Witch of the West's green face filled the screen and Teyla smiled, amused at how much the Satedan enjoyed the show. McKay did his best to bogart the bowl of popcorn, but Teyla was able to free it from his grasp with little more than a smile.

And Sheppard knew the real reason why they'd all ended up here. It wasn't just duty to their friend. It was just nice to be together, without doom hanging over their heads. It was nice to be home. There was no place like it.

Sheppard settled back, cozying closer to McKay's feet to annoy him, to make him give up an inch or two of space. McKay complained. Ronon told him to stuff it he was trying to watch the movie.

It was good. It was rather nice.

The door chimed and opened, revealing Beckett with what looked like a pizza. He stood, stunned, in the doorway. "Oh," he stated. "I didn't know you had company."

McKay looked flustered. "I didn't invite them," he grumbled.

"We don't need an invitation," Sheppard stated. "What's yours is ours." And he stood and reached out toward Beckett's pizza, taking it from his care. How did Carson get his hands on one of those when it wasn't even pizza night in the Mess?

Carson smiled, looking rather happy, and joined the party, dragging another of the hallway chairs into the room filling what spare space was left. Ronon laughed at the poor plight of Dorothy.

They tore into the pizza and the movie played on.

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THE END
T'is done! There. Thanks so much for all of your wonderful comments. I have enjoyed them SO MUCH. You guys are wonderful.