"Hurry up, McKay!" Ronon Dex shouted in through the mouth of the cave. The two of them had been sent to a planet designated PX-342 so McKay could do some kind of research on the composition of the rocks. Had Ronon been in the habit of asking questions, he might have wondered why Weir had sent a physicist on a geological survey, and what he, Ronon, was actually doing there, but he wasn't in any sort of practice. It was convenient to have two men on the planet, though, because their radios didn't work through whatever the cave was made out of. Ronon stood guard at the mouth in case of contact, urging the scientist to rush.

"Oh, be quiet," Rodney returned. "We have hours until we're supposed to be back, and these minerals are absolutely fascinating. Well, they will be to the geologists back at Atlantis."

Ronon's eyes rolled up in annoyance, a mannerism he had inadvertently picked up from his new Lantean environment. "I know how long we have, McKay, but I really think we should go. Something about this place doesn't feel right." He could hear Rodney's exasperated sigh, and imagined the other man was rolling his own eyes.

"Oh, don't start with that voodoo sixth sense drivel again."

"I mean it, McKay. I don't want to be here a minute longer than I have to be."

"Oh, alright, just let me—" There was a yelp from deep inside the cave that echoed up to meet Ronon, then silence billowed out, along with settling dust.

"McKay?" Ronon called out tentatively. "McKay!" he shouted, more strongly. "Rodney!" he yelled, entering the cave himself. After a few minutes of calling the man's name, he got an answer.

"I'm here," a small voice called from beneath him. He shifted the handheld flash in the direction of the sound. A dark crack scarred the floor of the cave, and Ronon could just make out Rodney's light in the gloom. "I was gathering some equipment, and I fell. I landed on my ankle; I think it's broken."

It took Ronon only an instant to make his decision, but it took a long moment to steel himself for its implementation. "I'm coming down," he called into the pit.

"Are you crazy?" Rodney shouted back. His shrill voice echoed back at them, and he was quiet for a moment. "Go get help. If you try to climb down, you'll fall and we'll never get out of here."

"There are plenty of holds. I'll climb down, get you, then we'll leave the cave and radio Atlantis. If I go back out now, I'll never be able to find the fissure again."

"I could scream," he called back apprehensively.

It sounded to Ronon like the scientist saw his point. "The echo will just make it worse."

A small echo of a sigh reached out to Ronon, and he took it as a grudging acceptance of his plan. The large man's beam played down the side of the drop. "McKay," he called down.

"What is it now?" he called back in aggravation.

"I can't hold my flash and climb at the same time. I need you to track me with yours."

"Alright, where are you?"

"At the mouth. I'm starting down." After several minutes of a poorly coordinated descent, Rodney came into Ronon's view. He was a shade too pale leaning against the rock wall, and his left ankle was bent at a grotesque angle. He was panting, and the light was loose in his grip.

"Ronon," Rodney started, the very moment the other man's feet hit the ground. "How do you propose I climb that?" he asked angrily, gesturing to the sheer cliff face.

"I saw ledges every few feet on the way down. We should be able to rest there." He never once looked the small, wounded man in the eye. He instead peered into the black overhead, then walked over to Rodney. He knelt down next to the scientist, one knee in a small pool of muddy water, then turned so his back faced the confused belligerent. "Get on."

"Excuse me…?"

Ronon suddenly regretted turning away, as he suspected McKay's appearance would have made the entire climb worth it. "You'd never make that climb, even under normal circumstances; that's why I'm here. You're going to hold the light, and I'm going to climb us both out of this hole so we can get out of this damned cave."

There was a pause, then McKay's hesitant hands grasped his shoulders. A surprisingly light weight settled onto Ronon's back, and Rodney's hands clasped the light just in front of his neck. Ronon stood, keeping a grip on the scientist's legs until they fastened around his middle. He picked his way around the rocks until he found what he thought must be his original path and he began to climb. After roughly fifty feet, it became obvious that this wasn't his path; there were fewer hand- and foot-holds and none of his convenient ledges in sight. Several minutes later, he found himself feeling the brunt of his load. His breath came in shallow pants and his face was covered in sweat.

"Ronon?" a tiny voice asked from behind.

"What?" he barked, perhaps too harshly.

"We're really high up." Ronon rolled his eyes, but restrained his response to a simple grunt. "I'd really hate to fall and shatter my fragile scientist bones on the jagged rocks below."

"Does this have a point, or do you just like the echo of your own voice?" Ronon suspected Rodney's sarcastic manner of rubbing off on him.

"My point," Rodney replied sharply, a good sign considering his condition, "Is that you sound like shit, and I doubt you look much better."

"If that's your point, your mind isn't working as well as you're always claiming."

"Hey," he snapped pointedly. "When your alien freak-strength gives out, I'll be the first thing to go, and I'd really hate for my obituary to be a mission footnote!"

He regretted Rodney's shouting when they were buffeted by echoes and small rocks tumbling down from above. Ronon did his best to shield his charge from the debris. "Let me make something clear to you, McKay," Ronon growled. "Either we both come out of this, or neither of us does, and I'm not going to die here."

The heat from his words startled him slightly, but he continued his climb. It was silent for several long minutes. "Thank you." Ronon wouldn't have believed his ears if the whisper hadn't been so close, hot breath blowing across his neck. He gently touched one of the arms Rodney had so resolutely hooked around his neck in acknowledgement. Ronon could see the top, could almost reach the lip of the crag, when he heard a rumbling from below. He continued his climb, but the rocks beneath him began to shake.

"Ronon," Rodney called, anxiety and fear domination his voice.

"Rodney," he started slowly, "I want you to climb over me. I'll stay down here and boost you from below. Then I'll climb up after you."

"Are you insane? You're going to get us both killed!"

"This cave is coming down around us, Rodney. This is our only option."

Ronon could feel the glare turned on him. "If I die, I am so haunting you," Rodney muttered as he began to climb.

The circumstances weren't ideal, rocks continued to fall and Rodney kept using Ronon's head as a step stool, but eventually Rodney reached the point where Ronon would have to push him up by use of his good leg.

Ronon held his companion's right foot firm in hand and began to lift him just as the shaking of the earth beneath them became violent. Peering into the barely lit gloom, Ronon could see Rodney's hand grab hold of the lip the crack. He was struggling, but his foot had left Ronon's range, and there was nothing else he could do. He wasn't content to sit and wait until it was safe to climb again, but he didn't seem to have a choice.

Ronon's advanced senses allowed him to see the huge stone coming down long before Rodney would have, and he called out to the endangered scientist. "Rodney, move!" He had startled the man, and he watched in horror as McKay lost his grip. He was falling, first at Ronon, then past him. The Satedan reached out and barely felt his fingers latch onto the soft fabric the Atlantis uniforms were crafted from. He let the man hang for a moment, then tossed him up in the air toward the cliff face.

He watched the pale, frightened scientist sail through the air and over the edge of the crack. There was a loud grunt, then a groan barely audible over the din of tumbling rocks. Larger boulders were starting to fall into the split in the cave's floor, coming dangerously close to hitting the lone soldier clinging desperately to the rock face.

During a short lull in the worst of the quake, Ronon scrambled up the remaining feet, then rolled over the side of the wall. He spotted Rodney and crawled over to him. The arrogant bastard had passed out, so Ronon did his best to shield him from the worst of it, going so far as to throw himself over his temporary companion. He was able to move McKay under a ledge, and he watched over the fragile man's prone form as he waited out the earthquake.

Many minutes later, the shaking ceased and the rumbling ended as the last of the loose rocks settled into place.

Rodney McKay felt like he'd been hit by an eighteen-wheel truck. He felt like hell, and someone was touching him. He'd always hated being poked at and prodded, so he opened his eyes, ready to start yelling again. What he saw made him stop short. Ronon was hunched over his leg, which was being propped up by a smooth rock, finishing what looked to be a fine job wrapping his ankle. The large man looked up and met Rodney's eyes.

"Too tight?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"No, no," he said quickly. "It's, uh…it's just fine." He sat very still for a moment, until Ronon was done. He caught the bigger man's gaze and held it for a long time. Maybe too long. "Thank you," he muttered quickly.