Title: "Pavor Nocturnus" (1/1) Gen
Author: Kristen999
Character(s): Sheppard, Zelenka, McKay, Miko Friendship
Genre(s): Stargate Atlantis: Action/Adv
Rating: T-- For light swearing and violence
Words: 15,000 (oops)
Spoilers: Set in Season 3

Summary: At an Ancient outpost Sheppard, Zelenka and Rodney discover an experiment gone wrong and must survive the fallout. For the Sheppard HC Secret Santa.

This was written for Titan5, her prompt at the end.

Ditraveler did four illustrations to go along with this story. They can be seen at the link in by bio since ffdotnet won't allow urls here.

Big thanks to Beth for her wonderful beta.

---

"Why couldn't the Ancients leave instructions for once? Would that be too much to ask?" McKay complains.

"You mean like one of those tutorials in computer games?" Sheppard asks.

"I'd even take a manual, an insert peg A into slot B."

The beam from Sheppard's P-90 bounces around the walls. "Hell a post-it-note telling us where the light switch would be damn cool."

"Ohhhh, wait a minute. Hey, Zelenka!" McKay snaps his fingers. "Scan the panel to your left."

Zelenka ignores the way his fellow scientist tries to gain his attention like one would a pet dog and shifts his mag-light towards the console. "Hold on." He punches the keys of his laptop, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "Yes, yes... I think this is it. Colonel, if you would."

Sheppard sighs, walking towards the control grid. "You know that Rodney has the gene, too."

"I know, Colonel, but you were the only one able to power up the south wing of this complex earlier." Zelenka moves away as Sheppard's magic touch makes things hum and sparkle.

McKay looks up from his PDA. "Good, now maybe we can get some work done. You powering up the generators?"

Sheppard shakes his head at the impatient tone. "One thing at a time. It's a no go on any extra juice."

Zelenka contents himself on monitoring the power levels of the laboratory. "The primary systems of the facility are now operational, Colonel. We have emergency lights and minimum power."

Sheppard pats his shoulder. "Good work, Radek."

"Oh, come on, he didn't do anything. Now let's go back to the south wing. I may need your super gene somewhere else," McKay says, tugging on the colonel's elbow.

Zelenka sighs loudly. On Atlantis, he and Rodney have their own lab with different assignments. If they work on a puzzle together, he can still walk away when McKay reaches his intolerable stage. The past ten hours have been miserable, being stuck listening to the head of science bicker with head of the military.

He would slip on a pair of earplugs if there was a way to get away with them here. They've been a godsend in the past.

If only those two understood how lucky they were to be able to activate ancient technology. The gene therapy had never worked on him and he wishes Rodney would appreciate it more. He'd do anything to feel the energy of a such an amazing biological-interface and often times is still in awe at the colonel's abilities.

"Is everything alright in here, Dr. Zelenka?"

He looks up to see Sergeant Peppers, a middle aged man with shorn dark hair and silver highlights.

"Yes, everything is fine."

The Marine nods. "Looks like some of the emergency lights are working now. Do you need anything from the jumper, sir?"

"No, we are good, I think."

Sergeant Peppers looks around, his steel blue eyes taking in the small room. The solider had spoken to him on their trip in the jumper, asking questions about the mission to gain intel. Most of the time the soldiers never paid the science any attention and it was a nice gesture. McKay, on the other hand, had joked with the man about a Beatles' album, but Zelenka didn't get the humor and the Marine did not seem enthused.

Sergeant Brier saunters in, chewing gum loudly. "Hey, Peppers, come on. We still have to finish the perimeter before checkin' in with the colonel."

Peppers examines one of the panels with his light. "Just seeing what the Doc is up to."

"I'm sure he'd rather do his thing alone. Dr. McKay certainly hates if we go anywhere near his stuff," Brier replies.

Zelenka doesn't mind the soldiers; some of the destruction of the south wing was disturbing and he takes comfort in their presence. "A lot of us appreciate your help, even if Dr. McKay doesn't show it."

Sergeant Brier is a black man in his early twenties who jokes often but is very gung-ho in everything he does, often talking non-stop about the wonders of the Corp. He reminds Zelenka a little bit of Lt. Ford and his smile falters at the thought.

"Come on, man. Let's go before the colonel gives us kitchen duty for screwin' around." Brier pats his buddy on the back.

"He just might if you keep jawin' about brainless fly boys since the two highest ranking officers of this expedition are airmen," Peppers reprimands.

"Whatever you say, Pops. You keep thinkin' the colonel is a normal CO?" Brier laughs.

The Marines leave and Zelenka wonders if they eat genetically altered spinach. Working around the military always makes him feel even smaller around such giants. He grabs his lap top and goes down empty hallways. The low lighting causes shadows to leap and dance eerily along the walls and he finds himself looking behind his shoulder often. He really needs to stop watching all those Alien movies in the rec room.

His footsteps echo loudly and he braces himself at every corner, waiting for something to jump out and scare him to death. He mutters in Czech about paranoia and walks quickly towards the auxiliary room, visibly relaxing from the chatter of his fellow team mates.

Miko waves her hand to get his attention. "Dr. Zelenka!"

He wanders towards the petite woman and nods. "Have you made any progress on this door yet?"

"No, not yet, but with the power on now, I'm able to interface with the locking mechanism," she replies, pushing her coke-bottle glasses up.

Dr. Ralph Herrington rips apart a nearby panel. "I think I've found the circuit board controlling it."

"This is the only locked room we've found so far." Miko looks up from her screen. "I've been reading a low level energy source inside even before we got power to the rest of the complex."

"I just don't understand why we can't have more people. This place is so large," Herrington says awestruck, running a hand through his blonde curly hair.

"There are seven of us here; that's quite large considering all the other research going on at various outposts," Zelenka tells the younger man.

Herrington is an eager beaver, a genius with infectious enthusiasm that many tease him about. The kid couldn't be older than twenty-two, a baby faced genius with freckles and a habit of stuttering when he gets nervous. Zelenka feels old when he has to drink a second cup of coffee around the mathematician who bounces around without the need of an extra caffeine boost.

"I'm glad you're here," Herrington says, looking up from his work. "I'm tired of listening to Miko drool over that Sergeant."

Zelenka laughs. "Which one?"

Miko blushes. "You weren't supposed to say anything." She glares at her teammate before looking over at her boss. "Sergeant Peppers reminds me of George Clooney, very classy and handsome."

"Maybe we could get Colonel Sheppard to help. I've heard through the grapevine you've had a crush on him forever," the young man teases.

"The colonel is busy investigating the south wing and you could barely talk to him earlier," Zelenka reminds him.

Miko smiles at the obvious embarrassment all over the young man's face. Herrington had worked himself into a hiccup frenzy by the time he gained enough courage to give his report to Sheppard during their trip here. Apparently the colonel's status as a legendary hero of epic proportions still enthralls the green members of both the military and scientific ranks.

Or maybe he's the galaxy's most intimidating boss besides McKay.

Zelenka looks on anxiously, curious at what might lie beyond the heavy steel door.

"Does Dr. McKay have any theories about what happened in the south wing?" Miko asks, still trying to crack the lock.

"We can't be sure what took place. It does not look Wraith in nature. There was a lot of damage...maybe someone raided the place after it was abandoned," Zelenka suggests.

"I bet the Ancients took whatever cool stuff they created with them," Herrington theorizes as blue sparks erupt from the panel.

"Hey, careful," Zelenka warns.

"No, wait. I have something!" Miko squees. "Yes, this is working."

Their ears fill with a blaring alarm and red lights flash in a nauseating strobe.

"What is it?" Miko yells.

Zelenka gestures at her computer and she hands it over wordlessly so he can seek out a way to shut off the annoying noise.

Herrington grabs his shoulder, pointing animatedly at the entrance. "The door!" he shouts, the automatic lock clicks open.

The flashing lights are giving Zelenka a headache and it takes every bit of concentration to find the right pathway and override the pounding alarm. He silences the noise and his teammates sigh in relief.

Miko grabs his arm. "Do we go in?"

"I do not know; we should inform the others first," Zelenka warns, tapping his com piece. "Colonel Sheppard, we've discovered a room with a low level power source coming from inside."

He waits for a response, red flickering off of the reflection in Miko's thick glasses.

"Sheppard here. Is this the one with the mysterious locked door?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"And have you gone inside?"

"No, not yet. There are unidentified energy readings and, oh... wait a minute." Zelenka stares at the changing data on his lap top.

"What's going on? I want you to wait on us before going in."

"We're here, why don't we just take a look," Herrington asks, bouncing from his heels to his toes.

"Radek, come in!" Sheppard yells.

"Dr. Herrington, wait!" Miko says startled.

The overexcited scientist pulls open the heavy door, shining his flashlight into the darkness. "Whoa...Dr. Zelenka, you should see this."

"Hovno," Zelenka curses. "Hold on, Colonel Sheppard."

He huddles in the doorway with the younger man; Miko latches onto his shoulder and peers around with him. The room is vast, cast in a low blue glow of illumination from the ceiling and more red lights angrily flashing overhead at the entrance of the door.

"What is this?" Miko whispers.

Zelenka swallows. "I don't know but we should to run a diagnostic on our sensors. We should have picked this up."

---

There had been no sounds of screaming, weapon's fire or explosions, so maybe they were not headed into another disaster. This was after all a very deserted Ancient outpost; of course, how many times did this same scenario bite them in the ass?

"Could you please slow down? Last I heard they found a door, Colonel. A locked door. Whoopee," Rodney huffs back. "Plus, this place is vacant. We only have so much time here to determine if it warrants a long-term study."

"A study of what? Every fancy-looking piece of equipment has been smashed. I'm walking on shards of glass from those windows," Sheppard says, pointing at a wall where every pane has been busted.

"I'm sure there's a rational explanation for their bad housekeeping." Rodney picks up the remains of a destroyed computer. "Or maybe they should have invested in Powerbooks."

The entire south wing looks like a bomb had gone off without any signs of an actual detonation. Sheppard studies the damage to the walls; parts of the sheet rock turn to powder when he touches it. He swears the holes were made by fists. "There's a lot of dried gray stuff smeared everywhere."

"Don't touch things! Are you trying to contract another alien virus?" the irate scientist hisses.

"There are stains all over the floor, too," Sheppard replies, wiping the stuff over his BDUs. "Alright, we'll come back and investigate later. Let's get goin'."

He looks at the life sign's detector and heads down a hallway that they didn't inspect the first time.

"Hey! We didn't come down here."

"Short cut," Sheppard replies, keeping his gun at ready.

"Oh, of course, because you're so good at those."

They hustle down the dimly lit hall; the sparse white emergency lighting does little to pave their way. The P-90 helps somewhat and Sheppard scans the floor where it looks like part of the roof has caved in. He points the weapon upwards, cautious of the dark chasm in the ceiling.

"Are you looking for rats now?"

"Just things that go bump in the night," Sheppard dead pans. He taps his radio. "Zelenka, you guys still remaining outside that room?"

"Yes, we have not entered."

"Good, stay put 'til we get there."

McKay's so close behind him he can feel the man's breath at the nape of his neck. "Personal space," he growls.

"You're sneaking around and that's making me nervous!"

There's another entrance ahead but it appears the door is no longer attached to the frame. Sheppard squats to examine the latest oddity. "Looks like it was snapped off its hinges."

"That door is made of steel."

"My point exactly."

"Huh," the scientists kneels on the floor to join him. "More gray stains; looks like a chemical spill maybe."

"I wanna know what the hell happened here."

"Oh, let me go back to the Mystery Machine, see if Fred and Daphene might want to lend a hand."

"McKay."

"Whatever battle, disaster or accident occurred here, let me remind you it took place a long time ago. We have two small teams and a couple useless Marines wandering around and not much time for me to find something useful enough to get Elizabeth to authorize the extra man-power to study this place."

"Those useless Marines are carrying all your heavy equipment. We have new protocols in place when it comes to exploring every outpost we come across," Sheppard explains annoyed. "Sorry if you don't like the new SOP, but we have to be choosy nowadays."

They enter the next room with only the glow from two measly emergency lights near the exit and entrance to help guide them.

Sheppard criss-crosses the vast space with his light. "Looks like a mess hall."

Both teammates pick their way through the hazards of overturned tables and chairs. The floors are covered with more strange gray splatter patterns, some of the stains running a darker brown color.

"Rust maybe?" Sheppard asks.

Rodney pulls out his Ancient scanner from his vest pocket. "Give me your knife."

Sheppard pulls out his Gerber and hands it over. He watches Rodney slip on a set of latex gloves, scrape at the crusted substance and place a sample in his gizmo.

"We need to check in with the kids, McKay."

"Just doing a quick basic scan, it'll only take...Oh...I mean...Oh, no."

"What?"

Rodney's fingers dance over the scanner. "Checked it twice."

"And? Come on, I'm not in the mood for---"

"It's blood. All the stains we've seen have been blood splatter," the scientist says horrified, his eyes widening in panic.

"Blood's red last I checked."

"Not when it's had years to decompose."

McKay's very freaked out about this and hell, so is Sheppard, but they need to stay calm about things. Whatever type of massacre, it had happened a long time ago. "Let's just get over to Zelenka's team. I'm not taking any chances."

He tries not to step in the decayed blood puddles, yanking on Rodney's tac vest to hurry him along.

"We've been stepping in blood all day...we... we could be contaminated with who knows what."

Rodney looks pale; the bad lighting doesn't help matters but there's no time to let panic set in. "Whatever took place, you're right about one thing. It was years ago. No one's here," Sheppard tries to reassure him.

"You say that now."

They pick up the pace, noticing the flashing red ahead. "Why does this remind me of one of those bad carnival fun houses?" Sheppard sighs, after locating the others. "Okay, Radek. Want to tell me about your mystery room?"

McKay storms over towards the huddled trio. "Yeah, and what did you break?"

Miko tries to defend her boss. "Um... Dr. McKay, Dr. Zelenka did get the alarm turned off."

"Alarm?" Sheppard asks exasperated.

"W-wwe think it's to p-pprotect them," the young, jumpy kid stutters.

Sheppard stares at him, not recalling his name. "Them?"

"Yes, yes. There appears to be a whole set of stasis pods in the other room. We haven't gone in any further, but I did poke my head inside," Zelenka explains.

Sheppard looks at Rodney. "More pod people. Great."

"Like on the Aurora?" McKay asks, already pulling the door open wider.

Sheppard grabs at empty air. Rodney rushes inside and he's forced to follow, the Scooby Doo Gang right behind them.

"The power readings have been at a constant level of----" Miko cuts her report short as the room comes to life.

Sheppard and Rodney have only taken three steps inside when row after row of pods power up, the hum of machines and beeping computers following suit.

"McKay? Are we doing this?" Sheppard asks, turning the safety off his P-90 and turning around to keep an idea at how big this stasis chamber could be.

"Um...if you mean our gene...maybe."

"All of us have ventured a step or two inside, nothing reacted to us," Zelenka says, busy scanning dome-covered beds. "Fascinating… they are still alive."

"Alright, let's get out of here. I don't want to be waking up a bunch of people just yet." Sheppard taps his radio. "Sergeants Brier and Peppers, report to my location pronto."

"Yes, sir."

Rodney goes from one bed to the next, his eyes glued to his lap top. "I think it's too late. However we triggered things, there's no stopping it. I have no clue how to patch into this system; they're like the pods on the Aurora but they're set up completely different."

"Well, find a way to shut it down!" Sheppard orders, walking over towards the energized scientist.

"Colonel Sheppard, sir. This pod is displaying a more rapid re-activation process, Colonel, sir."

The nervous kid is fixated over a specific pod; his fingers move so fast they are nothing but a blur of motion. Sheppard still doesn't remember the guy's name. "Why?" he asks.

The blonde kid gets a deer in headlights look, licking his lips nervously. "I—I don't know...s-sir."

"Deep breaths… um..."

"Dr. Herrington, Colonel... sir."

"Now give yourself a second and look at your data."

The young scientist gulps, nodding. "This one was set up to activate at a faster pace than the others. In fact, in a few minutes I'd say---"

The cover to the pod begins to slide open, revealing a person who's been asleep for thousands of years. Sheppard peers over the body, surprised that the guy isn't skin and bones.

He looks up at Herrington whose eyes burn bright with excitement. "He doesn't look like he's aged. How's that possible?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe they're not Ancients."

That doesn't make him feel any better. "McKay! Get over here!"

"I'm a little busy! We have almost a hundred people beginning to come out of a long sleep and I'm trying to figure out how to stop it without killing them!"

The slumbering man wears a militaristic uniform and a vest. His dark hair is past his shoulders and his face is covered by an equally shaggy beard. Whatever had kept the guy from aging wasn't able to stop hair growth. Sheppard nibbles on his lower lip, wondering what his next move should be, when the mystery man opens his eyes.

Rapid moving pupils focus on Sheppard's intense stare and the man tries to move, groaning from the effort.

Herrington is sweating bullets, looking to him for guidance, and Sheppard gives the kid a reassuring smile before placing a hand on the stranger's shoulder. "Hey, take it easy. I think you've been asleep for a long time."

The guy tries to speak, but his mouth is unable to form words after so much time. Sheppard debates a moment; his two Marines have arrived in the doorway. He holds his hand up to tell them to stay still before leaning over to listen to Rip Van Winkle.

"If...you're...not here...with...a...cure...then...run...run...as...fast as you...can," the strangers whispers.

Herrington must have good hearing because he makes a very mouse-like squeak, but Sheppard ignores him. "What are you talking about?"

Rip Van Wrinkle is stronger than he should be for someone who's been taking the universe's longest cat nap. He sits up, a hand rubbing at his hairy face. "Felt so good to sleep," he mutters.

"I'm downloading data from a control interface to see if I can figure out what happened!" Rodney shouts.

"Good." Sheppard turns his attention to the only person who might have real answers

Sergeant Peppers stands next to Sheppard, eyes darting between his CO and a possible threat. Van Winkle yanks out his tubes, mumbling unintelligible things under his breath. There are brown and black stains all over his uniform top and BDU style pants. Sheppard notices an empty gun holster, definitely putting their new guest under the soldier category.

Sheppard studies the agitated man. "You mind telling us your name... Rank maybe?"

The stranger gets to his feet, lurching badly to one side. "If you didn't bring a cure...then...I have no choice."

Peppers protectively walks in front of Sheppard, releasing the safety of his weapon. Sergeant Brier covers the stranger from behind; both Marines watch their new pal wearily.

Van Winkle shakes his head back and forth and begins arguing with himself, causing the older sergeant to tense at his suspicious behavior.

Sheppard gestures for the antsy Marine to stand down. "Brier, see if Dr. Herrington can help out McKay. Peppers, just take it easy... let's not spook our friend here." He takes a deep breath. "What do you need a cure for? Are we in danger of a virus?"

"No, no, no...you weren't part of the test... not a test subject, not a test subject," the man babbles. "Got to finish things...felt so good to sleep, so good."

"Colonel Sheppard," Zelenka whispers.

"Kinda in the middle of something."

"Dr. McKay wants you to know, all these people are going to be awake very soon. Pod doors are opening but their reactivation sequences seem to be on a slightly longer delay."

"How long?" Sheppard asks tersely.

"Five or ten minutes, give or take."

"See if you can stall that... I have no idea what we're dealing with," Sheppard orders, turning his attention back to his increasingly jumpy guest. "There were tests conducted here? What kind?"

Van Winkle tugs on his beard and runs his hands through his long, unkempt hair. "I --I can't fight it much longer... just leave... can't fight it."

"Just calm down." Sheppard holds out his hands to the dismay of Sergeant Peppers, letting the P-90 hang by his vest.

The stranger's eyes are bouncing side to side inside their sockets, making him look more deranged. "The bodies... cleaned up the bodies... dragged them all away."

Sheppard swallows. "What bodies?"

"Colonel!... Dr. McKay!!"

"Now what?" Sheppard points to Sergeant Peppers. "Keep an eye on him."

Miko sounds terrified and he runs towards her with Rodney hot on his heels, complaining all the way. The two of them halt; the petrified woman steps away from one of the pods, pointing at the side. "I… I just noticed it."

"What?" Rodney demands.

"That."

Sheppard kneels down, blinking in shock before turning towards Rodney. "Is that a bomb?"

"Oh, I hope not," the scientist groans, pushing Sheppard out of the way. "Oh no… no, no, no. It IS a bomb. A very scary looking bomb."

"Is it active?" Sheppard demands, grabbing Miko by her shoulders and moving her away.

"Yes, very active. Don't know how, considering how old it is. And before you ask… no, I don't know how to deactivate it... it's not simple C-4."

"Peppers! Brier!"

The Marines hustle over and Sheppard meets them halfway. "New priority. I want you to check all of these pods for explosive devices and report to me if you find any."

"Little blinking lights should indicate that they are functional," Rodney adds.

"How come we didn't detect these until now?" Sheppard snaps.

"They didn't power on till now. You think I would have noticed something like immediate death? I just noticed a power spike after Miko---"

"Now, as in just now?"

"Yes, just now!"

Sheppard growls, feeling a sneaky suspicion at waking up Van Winkle.

Zelenka hurries over with Dr. Herrington in tow. "We cannot shut down the pods. In a few minutes we're going to have more people on our hands."

"McKay!" Sheppard hollers.

"What? Don't you see we have a supreme case of we're all screwed and--"

"I'm well aware of that! In the meantime, we're going to have a big case of grave detail any minute or a rescue... so help out with that!"

"Colonel!" Peppers runs over out of breath. "We've found explosives on ten pods, but not all of them are working."

There's too many things going on at once, too many hands to hold. "We know how long before they go?"

"No clue, sir. We have no idea if they'll take out part of this room or half this wing," Peppers reports.

"Okay. Time to leave," Sheppard orders. Not everyone is hopping to his command and his temper flares. "Now! Everyone, exit this chamber!"

Miko gathers up her laptop; her hands shake so badly she's about to drop it. Rodney's ushering her out and trying to wrangle up their other anxious researcher who's now having a hiccup attack.

"Sir!" Peppers points at Van Winkle.

"Great," Sheppard grunts.

Their mystery man is screaming and beginning to tear apart his pod. Sergeant Brier is escorting everyone towards the door, his weapon trained on the hostile target.

"We need to pack stunners," Sheppard sighs, approaching the increasingly deranged man. "Hey! All aboard the Pegasus Express to getting out of here."

"Can't stop it... can't stop it!"

Peppers covers Sheppard as he steps closer to the candidate for Prozac. "Just follow me. You'll be safe."

Van Winkle begins to growl like a dog.

"Just get out of there, Colonel!" Rodney shouts.

Sheppard knows if he could get close enough, he can take the guy. "Easy there."

Their crazy guest yanks on his hair, squeezing his eyes closed. "Can't stop it! Got to... finish this. Got to end the project!"

Sheppard is close enough to make a grab when Van Winkle tears open his vest to reveal a small explosive device strapped to his chest. He smiles at him, laughing under his breath. "Time to run," the guy sing-songs.

"Crap...Peppers, get everyone out of here now! Take everyone as far away as possible. Move it!"

"Sir!" Peppers says, backing away. "I have a shot."

"Negative! Can't risk a stray bullet hitting any of the explosives. Now fall back! That's an order."

Sheppard is walking away slowly, his hands out in surrender... Van Winkle and his pinball bouncing eyes stalks after him. He risks a look behind him; the door is wide open.

"Run...run, run run," Van Winkle says, laughing hysterically.

The exit is only a few inches away and Sheppard makes a break for it, Van Winkle lunging after him. He stumbles backwards, grabs the door and begins slamming it close.

The metal clicks in place as Van Winkle flings his body at it screaming. Sheppard fumbles for the lock, keeping it shut with his shoulder.

He hears the sound like an M80 going off before the world around him explodes.

---

Rodney hands Miko over like she's a piece of equipment that he can't be bothered with anymore. "Watch her!"

Zelenka catches her as she stumbles as both of them try to gain their bearings. The guy they woke up is screaming now. "Maybe he's saying he can't stop the bombs?"

"Keep moving, sir...we need to get you to a safe distance," Sergeant Brier orders.

Miko and Herrington go down the hall but stop, realizing they are the only two obeying the Marine's orders. Rodney still hovers in the doorway and Zelenka is torn between making sure his people are okay and finding out what is happening in the chamber room.

"What's going on?" Miko asks, walking back.

"Please madame, stay where you are." Brier tries to usher her to safety.

"Just get out of there, Colonel!" Rodney shouts.

Now Zelenka is getting worried; the explosives could go off at any second and he goes over to grab McKay. "Rodney, come on!"

The colonel and the mad man are shouting at each other and he can't make out what's being said.

Miko and Herrington are agitated and the burly Sergeant is yelling at them to stay back. "I'm not telling you two again!"

Zelenka hurries over, grabbing Rodney's sleeve but the stubborn mule won't budge. "Do you want to get blown up!"

"No, of course not! But we're missing someone and this big jerk won't get out of the way for me to grab Sheppard!" Rodney snaps.

The giant Peppers blocks the entrance. "Get your asses back!" he snarls at them before hollering at Sheppard. "Sir, I have a shot!"

Sheppard yells something. Before he knows it, Sergeant Peppers is a steam train, grabbing Zelenka and Rodney by the shirt collars and shoving them down the hall.

"Move! Move! Move!"

The Marine hooks an arm around each of their middles and manhandles them down the hall like a rugby player. Rodney curses; Zelenka can barely keep from stumbling and in seconds they are at the end of the hall with everyone else.

Except for Sheppard.

"Where's the colonel?" Brier demands.

Zelenka sees a blur of a uniform in the doorway. "He's right---"

There's a flash followed by an explosion. By the time Zelenka's brain registers that he's alive, Rodney takes off like a shot. The two Marines are seconds behind him and Zelenka runs after them, wondering when his ears will stop ringing.

There is blood all over the door---a door that is currently on top of the colonel.

"Get it off of him!" Rodney yells.

Miko grabs Zelenka's elbow. "What's going on?"

"Go back to the end of the hall...check on Dr. Herrington," Zelenka tells her.

Peppers and Brier each take one end of the massive door and lift it away. The colonel is sprawled on the floor unconscious and Zelenka risks a look into the chamber, his stomach twisting at the human remains splattered all over the ground.

Sergeant Peppers glares at him and McKay. "We all need to move back, now! We could still have--"

This time the shock wave knocks them over.

Zelenka falls on his butt; Rodney and Peppers cover part of the colonel out of instinct. By the time he realizes the act of selflessness from the astrophysicist, the Marines are hollering again about retreating.

"He could have a spinal injury!" Rodney hisses.

The Marines grab their commanding officer; Peppers hauls Sheppard over his back in a fireman's carry and the soldiers hustle them to the end of the hall again.

Two more explosions rock the pod chamber.

Herrington almost falls down in the rush to find safety. "We're going to die!"

One of the Marines bellows. "Which way do we go?"

"The auxiliary power room," Zelenka huffs.

"Lead the way." He thinks that's Pepper's voice.

Miko is holding on to Zelenka's left arm and Herrington looks like he wants to hang on to McKay, but Rodney scowls at him as they keep running. They arrive in the room he'd just left before the whole mystery door fiasco. Sergeant Peppers lays the colonel down to the floor, wiping his brow.

Miko wraps her arms around herself, peering at the floor and then up at him. "I...I...lost my laptop."

Zelenka doesn't know if he should laugh or just fall down. "It's okay, we'll get you a new one." He pulls out a chair from one of the control panels and looks at Dr. Herrington. "Sit down."

The young kid slumps in it, running his fingers through his curly locks. "Does this happen all the time?"

"Not all the time," Zelenka replies tiredly. He feels bad for the kid—this is only the young man's third mission.

McKay is in a pissy mood, snapping at the Marines like they were children and pacing back and forth. "He probably has brain damage or a broken back thanks to your caveman tactics. You make Ronon look like Florence Nightingale."

"Rodney, lets just figure out the quickest way to the jumper so we can leave," Zelenka says, sighing.

"Yeah, yeah. Already on it...two steps ahead of you like usual."

Zelenka is too fried to retort.

"What do you think happened? Why were there explosives in there?" Miko asks.

Herrington looks at him for an explanation. "All those people...did they all die?"

Zelenka isn't used to these type of questions and is at a loss for a proper answer. Normally Rodney interrupts him any time he speaks up.

"I can't believe this." McKay fiddles with the life sign's detector. "I don't understand."

Zelenka does not like that high pitched tone. "What is it?"

"We're going to have company."

Peppers walks over, readying his weapon. "Where?"

"Just a few feet from our position...right outside the door," Rodney says.

"How many?" the sergeant demands.

"Um..." Rodney gulps. "Ten."

The Marine swears under his breath.

Miko joins them. "Maybe they are survivors from the bomb."

Brier checks on Sheppard before standing and hugs the wall in front of the door.

"Maybe we can ask them what happened here," Zelenka suggests.

He isn't expecting the door to burst open at that exact moment or four men in scrubs to rush the unprepared Marines. The crazy men lunge before the soldiers can squeeze any triggers.

He's never heard the true sound of madness before. The screaming pierces his eardrums and the soldiers yell back, defending themselves from the rage.

Screeching-- the madmen are screeching-- going for throats and eyes.

One of the deranged men smacks Pepper's head hard against the wall and doesn't stop smashing the Marine's skull over and over again. Every time, Brier punches at one of his foes, there are more fists hitting him back.

The sounds of a hand gun snap Zelenka out of his shell shock. Rodney fires at the two closest bad guys, blood staining their scrub tops.

It's too bad that the room fills with six more men, the sounds of their insanity overwhelming the senses. McKay shoots point blank, yelling at the top of his lungs before he's overrun by rushing bodies.

Zelenka grabs the nearest chair and charges, whacking the first person on the head as hard as he can. He slams it onto the backs of those who are kicking McKay after knocking him down.

"Die!...Zkurvysyne!" he shouts.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Miko use another chair, swinging it awkwardly at those who descend upon her. Herrington stabs one of the zruda in the shoulder with a ball point pen.

Maybe the young scientist played American football because at a loss, the kid tackles another nameless man to the ground to defend Miko. Of course the nasty, hairy brutes use that opportunity to jump on top of him.

Zelenka knows they're all dead. One of the bad guys strikes him across the cheek and someone from behind whacks him on the head.

The sound of a P-90 is the most amazing thing. It drowns out the grunting, screaming and shouting. Blood drops spray his face as one of the lunatics gurgles before falling down from several chest wounds. Zelenka uses his chair like a shield as five long fingernails swipe at his neck; the murderous man is rewarded with a quick burst that cuts him down.

Amazingly, Sheppard is on his feet, his aim pinpoint and deadly. He shoots two more attacking people in the head. One of them goes for the colonel's throat and is rewarded with the butt end of the rifle. The colonel finishes him off with a couple more rounds.

The pilot doesn't waste time, pulling out his knife and stabbing one of the evil men who is still beating on Rodney in the back of the neck.

Sheppard sticks his Glock in Zelenka's hand. "Here!"

The colonel can't fire at those on the other side of the room with Miko and Herrington in the way. He's there in seconds, jabbing his knife in one body after another.

There's no time to realize how scary the colonel is before Zelenka turns, emptying the clip into the two goons behind him. His aim doesn't have to be good when all he's doing is targeting their chests.

The Glock clicks out of ammo, but he's still pulling the trigger for all its worth.

"Radek."

Sheppard stands in a pile of bodies, one arm around Miko's shoulder, the poor dear still clutching the chair.

"Yes."

"You're out of ammo."

Zelenka blinks. "Okay."

"We need to focus," the colonel instructs.

"Yes... of course."

"I'm assuming those are our pod people. We need to see if there are any others, then attend to the wounded."

It's difficult to find the life signs detector with so many bodies and pools of blood. Zelenka goes over to Rodney who is groaning and he sighs in relief at the sound. He digs around, looking for the device, and finds it on the floor.

"Here," he says, handing it over.

Sheppard clutches the life sign's detector, breathing heavily. "There's more on the move."

"Where?" Miko asks, peering over.

"Everywhere, looks like they're just running around," Sheppard growls. "There's more headed this way...we need to get outta of the path of the chamber."

Zelenka rubs at his sore head. "Where? Can we get to the jumper?"

"Negative, that hall is filled with more of 'em." The colonel studies the device. "We'll hole up at the mess hall, then take it from there."

"Are the walking dead gone?" McKay asks, wiping away blood from his face.

Sheppard rushes over. "Are you injured?"

"I don't know." Rodney wavers on his feet.

The colonel helps brace the scientist and checks him over, seeming satisfied. "We've got to help the others."

Miko steadies Dr. Herrington whose face is puffy and bleeding. "Where are we?" the young man asks before almost falling down.

Zelenka runs over to help support Herrington. "Just take it easy; we're going to help you get out of here." He slings the taller man's arm across his shoulder.

Sheppard helps Sergeant Brier to his feet; blood drips freely from the man's nose and mouth. "I'm good colonel."

"You don't look it. What about your arm?"

Brier holds it close to his side. "It's broken. I'm missing a couple molars, but I can wait. We need to check on Peppers."

The colonel looks at the detector. "We've got to get out of here. Now!" The pilot grabs the unconscious Marine.

"Sir, let me." Brier drapes one arm onto his uninjured side.

"Rodney, help the colonel, he needs both his hands," Zelenka doesn't hesitate in instructing him.

McKay takes up the other side of the injured Marine without complaint, wincing from the extra weight.

"Let's go. Follow me," Sheppard huffs, leading the way.

The battered group enters a hall. The colonel grips his P-90 in one hand and the life signs detector in the other. Rodney clasps his gun, pointing it in the dark while struggling with his heavy burden. Zelenka tries to shoulder most of the young Herrington, who sways badly on his feet, almost toppling Miko when he lists too far.

It takes forever to limp down the corridor; their collective shuffling is loud and unnerving. McKay grunts when he unexpectedly has to shift Pepper's weight. Herrington moans, clutching at his belly, and Zelenka wonders if the kid might get sick.

The colonel holds out his hand to stop the group. He flashes two fingers in the air, signaling the number of bad guys approaching. He pulls out his knife, rushes ahead and flattens his back against the wall.

Zelenka hears a high pitched growl; it doesn't even sound human. A figure pitches around the corner and lashes out blindly. The colonel grabs the attacking arm, twists it away and slashes the man's throat. By the time the next bad guy attacks, Sheppard adjusts the knife in his hand and buries it in the man's heart.

They are quick, quiet deaths...the pilot can't cause any noise and attract more trouble. The colonel gestures for them to move and they stop often, waiting for the all clear before going on. It's a game of cat and mouse. They move fast one moment then crouch in the darkness and hold their breaths to avoid detection.

Zelenka is bone weary; his jaw hurts, his head aches, but he plows on with the increasingly woozy Herrington. They arrive in a mess hall that looks like it's already seen a terrible battle and he and Miko get the young man settled on the floor. Sheppard and Brier don't waste time grabbing tables and setting up barricades.

Rodney wanders over, looking frazzled with his hair sticking up and his right eye swelling shut. "How's Harrison?"

"Herrington," Zelenka corrects. "He has a concussion for one."

"His vision is blurry-- says he see two of me," Miko chimes in, walking over.

"What about Sergeant Peppers?" Zelenka inquires.

McKay frowns, glancing back. "He's out for the count. I think I saw the dent in the wall that his head made," he says, grimacing as he sits down.

"Are you okay?"

"My ribs are probably broken, my back is killing me, my shoulder hurts and I just got beat up by zombies. I'm just honky dory."

"At least they were bare footed...those kicks could have been a lot worse," Zelenka says.

The colonel hurries over to their little group. "McKay, how many clips of ammo do you have?"

"Um..." Rodney pats down his vest. "One?"

Sheppard grunts his displeasure, riffling through his own pockets. "I've got two more, plus two for my Glock." The pilot pulls them out and hands the ammo for the handgun to Zelenka.

Brier comes over. "I grabbed Pepper's clips and his P-90," as he looks around for a candidate to give them to.

"Give me your Glock, McKay," the colonel orders. He takes the gun, walks over to Miko and gives it to her. "You ever use one of these?"

"Yes," Miko squeaks. "During our weapons 101 training."

"Good."

Sergeant Brier tosses the P-90 to McKay who hisses in pain from catching it awkwardly. "Oh, gee, thanks. A little warning next time," the scientist grouches.

The Marine shakes his head and turns towards Sheppard. "Sir, we still have the south exit to fortify. The door is off its hinges."

The colonel turns quickly, losing his balance. Miko grabs his arm and he smiles at her before joining the circle. His face is pinched in pain and a fine sheen of sweat glistens over his brow.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Zelenka asks.

"I'm fine."

"Has anyone taken a look at you after that door exploded?" Zelenka expresses in concern.

"I hit my head, Radek," Sheppard responds, glancing at his life signs detector. "And we still have to get this other exit taken care of."

Miko pushes up her glasses. "What are we going to do?"

"We secure the room first while McKay checks the data he downloaded to see what the heck we're dealing with." Sheppard turns towards the Sergeant. "Brier."

"Yes, sir."

"Repair that door. Then set up some C-4 to cover the exit and make a barricade using the tables and chairs."

"Yes, sir."

The colonel clips his weapon to his vest and looks at Miko who awaits eagerly to be part of the plan to help out.

"Would you check on our injured?" the pilot asks.

She nods and he gestures at Zelenka to follow him.

The long tables are constructed out of metal parts and thick wood, making them heavier than they appear. They stack each one sideways against the door, the colonel propping them until they wedge in place. Zelenka squeezes his eyes closed, wishing his head would stop throbbing, and lifts his end of the piece of furniture with a little more vigor. Sheppard drops his end and stays hunched over, breathing in and out slowly.

"Colonel?" Zelenka checks to see if anyone has noticed and goes over to the pilot. "Is there something wrong?"

Sheppard takes a moment before straightening up. "Just sore."

Zelenka fusses with his glasses. "Are you in pain?"

"That door landed on me pretty hard, I'm bruised. Now come on, I didn't like how close some of those dots are to our location."

Zelenka redoubles his efforts to help, taking note that the colonel has been guarding his right side.

"Sir!"

Sergeant Brier is breathing heavily, looking worse than he did a few minutes ago and the pilot grabs the man's shoulder. "What?"

"You've...you've got to see what I found."

"Sheppard!"

Zelenka sighs; only Rodney could make you hate your own name.

The colonel is on a short fuse and leads the Marine over towards the aggravated astrophysicist. "What is it Rodney!" he snaps.

"I think I've discovered what types of tests were being conducted here."

"Okay, spill it."

"Sleep deprivation."

The colonel looks unconvinced. "We're being chased by a bunch of people who are grumpy because they didn't get a good night's sleep?"

Rodney glowers. "When these people were up and about before they were inside their little pods, they hadn't slept in weeks. Lack of proper REM sleep after more than three days can lead to delusional and sometimes violent behavior."

"There's also sleep walking and REM disorders where people act out their violent dreams if they don't reach a proper dream state," Zelenka adds. "There have been some studies linking psychosis and sleep deprivation."

Sergeant Brier and Colonel Sheppard look at each other. "Alright," the pilot says. "We have tests subjects who really need some Nyquil. How does that help us?"

Rodney rolls his eyes. "It doesn't. I don't know why they were conducting these experiments. I don't even know who these people are. I think the guy who blew himself up is the one who put all our zombies into those pods."

"Great." Sheppard turns to the Marine. "What is your helpful news?" he asks, checking the life signs detector. "Better make it quick, 'cause we're about to have company."

"I found the kitchen and the freezer is filled with the remains of many bodies. They all look like mummies," the sergeant explains.

Sheppard's face remains neutral; his skin is pasty and Zelenka hopes it's because of the terrible news.

"How many?" the pilot demands.

"It's a big freezer, sir. I think several hundred."

"Colonel Sheppard!" Miko screams.

The pilot checks the detector. "They're coming... both exits! Sergeant, wait until my signal to blow the doors." Sheppard looks at the group. "Zelenka, you and Brier pick off any that get through. Rodney, you and Miko are with me. We'll hold the other end."

McKay looks over at Zelenka. "We're so dead!"

"Optimism, Rodney," the pilot scolds.

Zelenka checks his pistol, follows Sergeant Brier and hopes that the first person shooters he plays sometimes are enough practice for this.

"Kurva!" he swears.

---

They make a fort out of tables and chairs about twenty feet away from the doors. Sheppard grabs another piece of furniture and drags it across the floor to give them better cover.

He's huffs, out of breath, and guides Miko behind the bench. "Stay down. If you see one of them coming, just aim for the center of their chest. Got it?"

"Yes, like at the firing range."

Sheppard smiles. "Just like that. Rodney and I will try to get them all before any of them get too close."

"I think you seriously overestimate my scores on that House of the Dead game, Colonel," McKay snaps. "And how come we don't get any C-4?"

"Don't have much left... and I want to save some for round two, plus we both have P-90s."

"Oh, how reassuring. I'll just remind myself of that when...Oh, no...they're here!" McKay's voice quakes.

Fists pound outside the door. The noise gets louder, walls vibrate; the screaming is back and the relentless banging gets worse.

Sheppard studies the growing number of dots converging at the other entrance. Those doors are weaker and he checks on Brier and Zelenka, huddled behind their own makeshift barrier.

He aims carefully; his hands shake and he grits his teeth against an ache in his side and a growing burn in his belly. "Just wait...wait…," he warns.

The doors bust open. Two men trip and fall; the other test subjects trample on top of them in their madness. Sheppard pops up, firing...McKay's P-90 adds to the hail of lead.

Sheppard goes for precision, conserving ammo by taking head shots. One...two...three...four bodies drop. He doesn't think of them as human or innocent; he thinks of only those who he has to protect, pulling the trigger as more of the crazy bastards attack.

Too many try to enter in at once, getting stuck in the doorway and fighting each other to get inside. He takes the advantage, like shooting fish in a barrel.

Yet still more come.

"We've got contacts!" Brier shouts.

The doors at the other entrance burst open.

Sheppard checks the life signs detector, waiting for more and more dots to appear at the opposite entrance. Brier fires at the first few people that break through; Zelenka fires, backing him up.

The red dots merge into a single blob of color and Sheppard bellows over the weapons fire. "Blow it now!"

The room shakes from the explosion; the C-4 envelops the emerging horde in a fireball, earning Brier and Zelenka a short reprieve.

But more crazies flood through Sheppard's side of the mess hall.

"The door is acting like a funnel-- just concentrate on suppression fire!" he yells at Rodney.

"I'm trying. There's too many of 'em!"

One of the bad guys gets past the bullets, forcing Sheppard to shoot point blank. The mad man dies just inches away and seconds before another bad guy crashes into him, sending them both to the floor.

"I don't have a shot! You're in the way!" McKay's frantic voice reaches his ears.

Hands go for Sheppard's throat as he pulls out his knife and shoves it in the raging lunatic's side. "Don't stop shooting... at the door!" he screams.

It's too late. The interruption of constant fire is enough to break down their defenses. They're being overrun. Rodney tries to slam his rifle at the next pod person but another is on him.

Sheppard loses count of the number of time he stabs the guy trying to strangle him. By the time he wrestles the dead body off, another crazy replaces his buddy, this time swinging a chair at his head. He rolls out of the way barely in time; the chair breaks apart as it slams in the empty space next to him.

He franticly searches for the teether of his P-90 and rolls for cover from the sounds of gunfire. He counts three shots before a foot connects with his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He smells the odor of unwashed flesh and a mop of filthy hair looms over before its chest explodes, splattering blood all over his face.

Miko stands over him, the gun shaking in her hands. "Colonel?"

He stands, gasping through gritted teeth. "How's Rodney?"

There are two more dead bodies around McKay's feet, but the scientist groans. "I'm alive...barely."

There's movement out of the corner of Sheppard's eye. "Bad guy's at two o'clock!"

He and Miko turn and open fire. Rodney gets to his knees, spraying more bullets from his automatic at the next onslaught of sleep deprived test subjects.

It's bullets and blood and the noises of death.

Then it's the sounds of collective rapid breathing.

Sheppard squints in the darkness, waiting for more, but nothing jumps out of the shambles of the door. He bends down to grab the life signs detector and suppresses a grunt as pain flares up his right side.

They're safe for now.

"Everyone okay?" he asks.

Rodney cradles his left hand to his side. "No... Think my wrist's broken...probably crushed when zombie guy stepped on it."

Brier and Zelenka wearily make their way over, looking ragged and exhausted. Sheppard pats Miko gently on the back and she looks at him meekly. "Good job," he tells her.

"How many more bogies do we have, sir?" Brier asks.

Sheppard shakes his head. "Too many," he says, scrubbing at his face. "We need another plan."

All eyes shift to McKay. "Oh, of course, I'll just pull one out of my--"

"Just see if there's any information on how they stopped this before. There must be something," Sheppard interrupts, wiping a test subject's blood from his face. He stares at his soiled uniform and rubs his hands over his BDUs to rid the death from his hands.

"I'll help," Zelenka offers.

Sheppard studies the detector. "We're clear for now. Our happy friends are in another part of the complex."

He goes over to where Herrington and Peppers lie on the floor, pressing his fingers to each neck for reassurance. The sergeant's silver hair is tinged red with dried blood and he struggles to retain his composure. He has to be the rock they can all count on.

"You know, Pops really respects you, sir."

"He's only a few years older than me, Sergeant."

The younger Marine shakes his head before growing serious. "You picked him for the expedition even after he got busted down. He's been an LT twice, but he just keeps finding ways to let them take his stripes."

"The brass sees everything in black and white."

"And you don't, sir?"

"Sometimes to survive you have to play in the gray."

Sheppard bends over and pats Herrington on the shoulder while the keyed up Brier begins to pace.

"Don't fall asleep. Try to stay awake; you have a concussion," he tells the kid.

"Tired."

"I know."

"Been...dreaming about...monsters. I...keep...hearing..."

"Just take it easy and don't worry about all the noise; you're safe."

"We goin'...home soon?"

"Yeah...just hang on."

"'Kay...Col'nl?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you...gonna save us?...That's...what you do," the young man mutters.

Sheppard bites his lower lip and looks over at Sergeant Brier who's overheard the entire thing. He stands too quickly and lists to the left, his vision graying around the edges. A hand grabs his bicep and the room swims back into focus. "I'm good," Sheppard says.

"Sir, are you--"

"I want you to inspect the kitchen; see if we can use it as our next base of defense. I'm going to see what the brain trust came up with."

He lags a couple steps behind the hefty Marine, willing the Powerbar from hours ago to stay in his stomach. His bellyache twists his insides and he tries taking deep breaths to calm it.

Rodney sees him and launches into his findings while Zelenka holds the laptop for him. "They used a gas through the ventilation system to knock everyone out. Or should I say Commander Hellios, our mad bomber did."

Sheppard nods. "Okay...and can we--"

"The problem is that the controls for the gas are in another lab," Zelenka points out.

"And it would knock us out, too...but that doesn't matter because there's not enough to spread through the complex. Most of it was used up the first time, according to these figures."

Zelenka looks at McKay. "If we could even turn it on but..."

Sheppard holds out his hands. "Is it possible that someone could get it back and working?"

Rodney shakes his head. "Doubt it."

"Maybe," the Czech retorts.

"Okay. Could we flood one area. Not the entire complex?" Sheppard asks, looking at them.

"I guess if we knew how to operate the controls." Rodney looks at him. "Oh, no...what are you..."

"I'll go, you guide me how to fix it over the radio and I'll release it on our buddies. Then we can get outta here."

Zelenka shakes his head. "How are you going to get them all in one location?"

Sheppard wipes at his sweaty brow. "I'll put it on a timer and then lure them over----"

"Oh, hell no! You think you can just play cat and mouse with a roaming band of freaks?" McKay shouts.

Miko steps closer, the men dwarfing her. "Um… Colonel Sheppard, wouldn't the gas affect you?"

"Yeah, what she said," Rodney says, snapping his fingers.

"I'm sure the place that operates the gas has masks. I'll look for them first, set a timer, entice the bad guys and make them go nightie night."

All three of them stare at Sheppard incredulously. "Look, we don't have many options."

"The last time I checked, you can't read Ancient," McKay barbs.

"We could load up a translation program. He could use the laptop," Miko suggests.

"Do it," Sheppard orders, glancing at the moving dots. "We don't have much time."

He scouts the area in front of the kitchen for the best placement for the remaining C-4 and turns at the sound of approaching boots. Brier marches forward looking ready to argue about something.

"Sir, I heard about the plan. Why don't you let me go lure those people. You should--"

"I need you here Sergeant to protect the civilians; that's our number priority," Sheppard cuts the man off.

"But, sir. I'm fast on my feet. Before joining the Corp, I ran track all through high school. After class, I was dodging the gang bangers on the street."

"You're injured."

"Broke my arm, not my legs. I could out run you...sir."

Sheppard shakes his head. "You don't have the gene to operate the lab. I'm the least banged up of all us and I'm not sending out Miko or Zelenka. Now let's take a look at the map and see what would be the most effective sector to gas our insomniacs."

He takes a good look at his officer and knows the tough Marine is hurting and trying not to show it. "We can do this sitting down; it looks you could use a rest." He doesn't mention that getting off his feet would do wonders for the growing twinge in his side.

Five minutes later the rest of his bone weary group take seats on the floor and they all look like victims of a mugging. Rodney's wrist is swollen, wrapped between pieces of cardboard and gauze. His animated movements are stiff, less energized and his teammate takes out all his pain on Zelenka. "I told you, there isn't enough power to re-route to activate the gas."

"We're talking thirty seconds to fill an area ten by ten meters. It's doable," the Czech retorts.

"And I bet the colonel has picked the worse possible place, not having a clue about how large a ventilation system we're dealing with."

Sheppard digs his thumb and finger into his eyes to try to rid a growing headache. "I found a hallway far from the jumper and close enough to give me time to bait our friends into the trap."

"The translation program is ready to go," Miko tells him.

It's so odd to see the Glock rest on her lap like it was just a PDA or an everyday piece of lab equipment. He tries to ignore the surreal image of her and the gun from his head. "You have the program I need to operate the equipment?" he asks McKay.

"If those consoles haven't been destroyed like half the lab rooms in this place and if, and I say if ...you can even tap into them."

"Bottom line!" Sheppard snaps.

Rodney shoves the laptop at him. "Yes, if every crazy variable to this doesn't blow up in your face then my program should work."

"Thank you," Sheppard growls.

"Colonel Sheppard, how many more tests subjects are out there?" Zelenka asks.

"About thirty give or take. The bombs in the chamber took out half. We've killed..." Sheppard squeezes his eyes closed, unable to think clearly about the numbers.

"Ten in the power room, another twenty five or so in here," Brier answers.

Sheppard ignores the Sergeant's worried expression. "Yeah, so a piece of cake."

Radek helps McKay up, letting the irritable crab apple lean on him on their way towards the kitchen.

Sheppard struggles to his feet and Miko offers him water from her canteen. "It's not very cold."

His throat is parched and he tries not to gulp too much down. He returns it to her, but some of the water splashes out when his hand trembles. He offers a quick smile to counteract her anxious expression. "Thank you."

Sergeant Brier doesn't say a word as they prep the last of their explosives just in case the kitchen becomes the Alamo in a last stand.

"Can you guys handle moving Peppers and Herrington?"

"We'll be fine, sir," Brier responds.

Zelenka comes over with a handful of aspirin. "This is the last of it. I made Rodney take three and the rest of us have swallowed some."

"No, thanks. Save it for the trip home or give more to the sergeant; he's got a lot of dentist appointments in his future." Sheppard taps his com. "I'm about to head out, McKay."

"Don't damage that laptop, Colonel."

"I'll contact you when I arrive at the lab."

"I can watch you on the life signs detector."

Sheppard pulls his out, adjusts the back pack with the computer inside it and turns on the light on top of his weapon.

"Good luck, sir."

He nods at the sergeant and Zelenka. "You too."

---

Sheppard becomes one with the corners, eyes flicking to the detector before dashing down darkened corridors. He scans, runs, darts and waits. There are a few stray test subjects roaming around and he does what he can to avoid them. He pulls his damp T-shirt away from his chest and wipes the beads of perspiration that roll down his face with his forearm. He exhales all the air from his lungs and takes off down another hall, ignoring the increased queasiness of his stomach.

Rodney's voice is loud in his ear. "You're almost there."

"I know that, McKay," he hisses back.

There are no signs of trouble but he leads with the barrel of his P-90 into the lab, sweeping the room before searching for the right piece of equipment. Years of dust cover each panel and he rummages for a data port to plug the laptop into. It's frustrating not knowing which console is correct but things flash awake from his touch.

"Good, now we're getting somewhere."

If the machines chirp and hum then they might be operational enough to pull this off. He spots a connection, inserts the cable and waits for the screen to light up. Lines of unreadable code scroll down in dizzying fashion, causing his gut to clinch.

"Not now," he groans.

The laptop beeps and McKay's program begins to search for the right protocols. He takes the time to search for any type of protective mask. He'll complete the mission even if he doesn't find one. It's the only way and Rodney can still fly everyone back in the jumper. He rifles through the last cabinet and smiles at that Sheppard luck. There are two hanging on a hook and he snags one.

The life signs detector shows that the room is all clear but it doesn't make him less jumpy; his fight and flight alerts are buzzing. The blue glow from the screen flashes repeatedly with nonsense until he recognizes English and basic instructions.

Yes!

Sheppard's fingers dance over the keyboard and he taps his com. "Your program has found out how to activate the gas. I'm logging into the ventilation protocols now."

It routes and re-routes, spits out data lightening fast, making him dizzy and he has to look away to keep from getting sick. He takes long deep breaths, the stitch in his side gnawing deeper.

"How much longer?"

"Almost done. I just have to find a way to set it on a timer," he tells McKay.

He feels the hackles on his neck rise; his eyes dart to new red dot on the detector. Rodney's screaming in his ear as he rushes to the door, slamming his back against the wall. He waits, his heart banging against his ribcage.

The man's heavy breathing gives him away and Sheppard yanks on a handful of scrub top. He's rewarded with an elbow to the face and nails that miss clawing out his eyes. The test subject tries to grab his hair and Sheppard flips the wrist back, breaking it. The mad man howls and he silences the poor bastard by twisting his neck in a unnatural direction.

He stands back, staring at the body and shudders at what he is capable of sometimes.

"Sheppard! Sheppard!"

He taps his com. "Stop yelling."

"Oh, thank goodness."

The laptop beeps, awaiting his next execution and he types in ten minutes into the timer.

He runs out of the room at full speed towards the largest group of pod people. "On my way now," he says breathlessly into the com.

Down.

Right turn.

Down again.

Left turn.

He can hear them prowling for whatever will give them an outlet for the torment in their minds. He wonders if it's instinct to roam in groups and why they haven't turned on each other. He enters the north wing, the part of the complex that leads to the jumper.

Why couldn't they just leave?

It's now or never, a quick five minute jog to an isolated area that'll put everyone to sleep. That's what they crave so badly, isn't it? Sheppard draws in a ragged breath and turns the corner.

"Hey! The auditions for Dawn of the Dead are over here!"

He's just waved the red flag. It's one thing to be hunted down by hungry Wraith, but it's another to see that same type of hunger for violence in the disturbed eyes of humans.

Sheppard runs; a stampede of dozens of feet pound the tile floor right behind him. He ignores the wailing, the grunts and growling of those stripped of any humanity. Being chased by the stuff of nightmares is hard, especially when the pain in his side decides to blossom.

His chest hurts, it's harder to draw oxygen from his lungs and the hallway dips and bobs like a boat. Running, he runs all the time, five miles a day, sometimes more. He blocks out the pain, only keeping track of where he is... of the mob gaining on him.

Rodney's panicked voice is like a dagger through his skull. "Sheppard, move your ass faster! Do you want them to catch up!"

He can feel their collective breaths—hear their lumbering bodies. Timing is crucial. He has to be in place before the gas goes off...if it goes off.

He fumbles putting the mask on as he reaches the end of the hall. There's no place to hide, no place to go. The mask fogs up from his rapid inhalations; his heart is a buzz saw trying to cut through his sternum.

Sheppard raises his P-90 and pulls the trigger, spraying the crowd with bullets. They fall, one at a time but there are too many of them. There's not enough ammunition to kill an experiment all gone to hell.

They scream when the bullets pierce their chests. They yell, stomping over the dead bodies to get to him. This is a killing field. He sees their eyes, pupils large and dilated, bouncing side to side like marbles.

He backs away, still firing until he runs out of space, mortar and brick keeping him from going any further.

His wristwatch beeps. Hands lunge and claw at him while the hall fills with green smoke. Sheppard punches and kicks, fingers grapple at his mask but the gas is thick, all of it programmed to flush the hall quickly.

They all collapse, bodies twitch as the nerve agent sends them to dreamland. He's dizzy with relief, breathing so fast he just might hyperventilate. He avoids stepping on all the sprawled limbs, wading through the pea soup of the corridor.

"Did it work?"

"Yes, Rodney it worked."

"Good, now hurry up so we can go home."

The buzzing is back but this time it's not his instincts. His stomach hurts with a sensation of nausea and fire. His whole right flank is alive with pain--- pressure and weight with sharp and dull.

He's walking when he should be running...stumbling instead of getting back to his team.

"Sheppard, what's going on? Why have you stopped?'

He gives his head a shake to clear it, pulling off the mask but ends up sliding to his knees, confused and light-headed.

"Sheppard! Colonel, answer me! What's wrong?"

McKay's voice sounds really far away and his stomach rebels and he throws up all over the floor.

"Tell us what's going on!"

He pants, spitting to clear his mouth.

"Sheppard! Answer me!"

"Go...to the... jumper..." he rasps into the radio.

"That's not the plan."

"I'll meet...you there...now go."

"Sheppard we're not---"

"Put Sergeant Brier on the com, now!"

There's arguing; his hand latches onto the wall to pull himself to his feet. He can't stand to full height and stays hunched over.

"Sir, it's Brier...Colonel Sheppard, please respond."

"Get everyone...to the jumper...that's an order...I'll be there."

He checks the life signs, noticing two more red dots coming his way. He takes two steps, and staggers. The hall spins before him while his P-90 dangles uselessly from his vest.

He moves though, blindly and slowly forward.

---

Dr. Herrington is more alert and is able to sit up while Zelenka explains that they will be leaving any minute. The kid swallows thickly with his eyes closed. "I... I can walk, I think."

This is good because there's one less person to help carry the young man and the stocky Peppers. Rodney is red faced and pacing in a manner that would fail any sobriety test.

"We should go find Sheppard and head to the jumper together."

Brier hasn't said much. His face is so swollen it's a shock that he can talk at all but if looks could kill then McKay would be long dead. "We have our orders; let's go."

Rodney's cheek flush even darker in contrast to the contusions on one side of his face. The dark bruises around his left eye look really bad. "Something's wrong!"

"Miko, can you help out your colleague? Dr. Zelenka, I need you to help Dr. McKay with Sergeant Peppers," the Marine instructs.

Rodney tries to cross his arms and bumps his broken wrist so he stands petulantly. "That's unacceptable."

"What is unacceptable, Doctor McKay, is getting in a pissing match with me. There are three civilians, including yourself, and an injured solider whose safety I've been placed in charge of. Now I'm getting all of you to the jumper. The colonel said he was meeting us there."

Rodney stabs the life signs detector with his finger. "He's not moving fast enough!"

"But we have to," Brier yells. "Help with Peppers. We'll get everyone to safety and if the colonel doesn't meet us, I'll go back and get him."

McKay looks ready to go into full on rant mode but the young man looks him right in the eye. "You think I don't want to go after my commanding officer? I'm a Marine! I don't leave my people behind. But it's my duty to protect all of you. Like it or not!"

Herrington steadies himself, his eyes focusing more as the ramifications of the fight sink in. "Dr. McKay, the quicker we go…" His expression says the rest.

McKay seems eager to keep fighting but he knows about the weight of responsibility. "Fine."

They are a sorry looking lot, navigating down the halls where monsters lurk. Miko's ponytail is frizzy; her glasses slip down constantly from sweat, but she grips her gun in a weird familiarity. Herrington's eyes are sharper, less glassy, but he still doesn't fool anyone with his unsteady footing. He puts on a brave determined face for them all.

There's no radio chatter, no talking.

Sergeant Peppers has brief moments of lucidity. He moves his feet one minute, drags them the other with his weight balanced between Zelenka and McKay. Rodney has a tough time trying to balance the Marine with a busted wrist and sore ribs, but he's their guide post with the life signs detector.

Shuffle. Clomp. Move.

They are almost there; Zelenka recognizes this section from when they'd first entered the complex. The group rallies, sensing an end to this misadventure but each of them checks for signs that Sheppard is close by.

"There are two subjects in the next hall," McKay whispers.

Brier does the hand signal thing, telling them to stay put. He dashes down the corridor in stealth mode, waiting in ambush to take out the foes without attracting attention.

"Is the colonel coming?" Miko asks, still looking.

Rodney stares angrily at the detector. "Not fast enough and there are two red dots gaining on him."

She adjusts her glasses. "He did not look well earlier."

Herrington eases his weight off of the petite woman. "What if he needs our help?"

Zelenka peers over Rodney's shoulder at the life signs detector. "Miko is right. If he's injured, should not one of us go back and assist him?"

"I'll go," Rodney volunteers.

Zelenka shakes his head. "If something happens, you are the only one who can fly."

McKay looks ready to blow a gasket at being shot down. Maybe having the gene in matters of crisis really is a curse when it comes to helping your friends.

Herrington extracts himself from Miko and nods at her to help take up Pepper's burden. They all conspire without words to help someone who will always do the same for any of them.

Zelenka grips his gun tighter, gains strength from each of them in silence and takes off down the hall.

He ignores Brier's angry demands over the radio to get his ass back. He hears the Marine tear McKay a new one and most times he would secretly enjoy such a dressing down, but not today.

He doesn't have a photographic memory though it's pretty darn good. The lab complex isn't that big and he follows the directions in his head, knowing that McKay will yell at him if he goes the wrong way.

He shudders, listening for any movement. This is not what he does, but ever since arriving in Pegasus, they've all taken on new roles. People like Sheppard carry guns, fight battles on the front lines but there's no denying that the scientists are the support soldiers , giving them the weapons to defeat the enemy.

He recalls a day when he had less than thirty-eight minutes to rescue a jumper filled with key expedition members. Lives rested with his expertise in technology and how he could apply that knowledge. Months went by and his capabilities were used to help save teammates...people he called friends in the lab. Now he runs down hallways with just his hands and a gun without question.

He pokes his head around the next corner, searching the darkness for the colonel. His teammate should be near by, but all that greets him are tricks of the light. If he calls out to Sheppard he'll attract the bad guys---but he knows deep inside that the people trying to kill them are just victims.

He creeps down the hall, copying the soldiers by staying glued to the wall. There's an odd odor in the air and his heartbeat ratchets up a notch. If he can smell the gas then he's so very close. His palms itch and he walks softly, searching the void for signs of life.

He hears a noise, every muscle in his body freezes and the gun shakes in his hand. At the end of the hall is a figure slumped on the floor.

It's Sheppard and he sprints over, trying to control his breathing.

"Colonel?" he whispers.

Zelenka places his hand on the pilot's shoulder and almost gets punched in the face for his effort.

"Radek!"

"Sorry... I… um...are you all right?"

It's a dumb question. Sheppard looks awful, pale and sweaty. The colonel sways badly as he tries to stand. Zelenka doesn't even wait for permission and slings one arm around his shoulder and starts moving.

The colonel trips, almost knocking them both down. Sheppard's skin is like ice and he's trembling badly, but forces one foot in front of the other.

"Where...are..."

Sheppard can't complete a sentence and Zelenka fills in the blanks. "Everyone has gone to the jumper. I came back to get you when it seemed like your plan wasn't going to work."

"It...worked," the pilot croaks.

Except for the part where the colonel was supposed to make it back with them but Zelenka doesn't mention that. Then it occurs to him to tap his radio.

"I've got Colonel Sheppard. We're heading back now."

"Oh, thank goodness. Tell Sheppard he doesn't have any more of his nine lives to spare," Rodney miffs.

Zelenka has a witty comeback except McKay screams in his ear about the two bad guys right around the corner. The air is knocked out of his lungs as his back hits the floor. His glasses are knocked away by the first punch; the second makes his head spin.

His finger pulls the trigger, firing blindly at the blur of scrub top material. He turns around at the sounds of a struggle beside him. There's a blob punching Sheppard and he aims the gun at the largest part of the fuzzy outline and shoots.

Rolling the dead body away, feeling the warm blood on his hands makes him want to gag. He searches the cold linoleum, finding his glasses, swallowing hard to control the terror and panic inside. Zelenka grabs the pilot's tac vest, yanks on it hard because he knows damn well he can't pull Sheppard up.

"Help me, Colonel."

The pilot moans, but gets to his feet without toppling over. They make a good pair of drunks, both sore and woozy, but his ear piece is amazingly still intact. Rodney has been threatening them both for the past few minutes and that's always a great motivator. The escape to the jumper is a blur and so is dragging Sheppard into the hatch.

---

"I want to stay in the lab; this... this is posrat," Zelenka curses.

Complaining alleviates his stress. It's an outlet over the fact that McKay is flying the jumper with a broken wrist, Sergeant Brier hasn't yelled at him yet and the only person with a fraction of any medical training is him.

"What's our ETA?" the sergeant barks.

"Two hours. If you think you can go outside and push to make it go any faster, be my guest!" Rodney shouts.

Miko comes over with a blanket for the colonel. She's already placed one over Sergeant Peppers near the front and drapes it over Sheppard who lays on the floor of the jumper in the rear.

The pilot opens his eyes. "Thanks," he whispers.

"How are you feeling?" Zelenka bends over to ask.

"Tired...Everyone accounted for?"

"Yes, yes. We're all here."

Brier makes his way towards the back and squats down next to his CO. "I wasn't going to leave you, sir."

Sheppard shakes his head. "Never doubted it. You did a good job, Sergeant . You got everyone out of there."

"You pulled off one hell of an escape plan, sir." Brier looks over at Zelenka. "We'll talk later but Dr. Beckett wants you to switch to channel two."

There's tension in the Marine's eyes and he adjusts his com to answer all the physician's questions. He adjusts the level of Pepper's feet, checking his breathing and pulse. Miko gets Brier's arm settled in a sling and hands him an ice pack for his face and jaw.

"Can you tell me your name and where we are?" Zelenka asks Herrington.

The younger man lays on his side on one of the benches, all his will power spent trying to be less of a burden till they made it.

"Most of the time it's 'hey, kid' and I think we're still in Hell."

Zelenka sighs.

"Hello, the guy flying the ship would really like some pain medication before he passes out."

Miko looks at Zelenka. "He is only worried about Colonel Sheppard. We should not be so hard on him."

"Dr. Beckett says no pain meds while you're flying, Rodney. Miko can give you some aspirin," Zelenka tells him.

"Oh, fabulous, tell Carson he's a sadist. And speaking of people flying, how's Sheppard?"

"Hold on, Carson is talking to me," Zelenka tells him.

"You said a door exploded into him?"

"Yes."

"How is his breathing?"

"Shallow and rapid."

"And his skin tone?"

"Very pale and he is sweating."

"What is his pulse like?"

Zelenka feels the pilot's neck, not liking what he's reporting. He did take basic first aid and knows how bad shock can be. "It's weak and very fast."

"Did the bugger mention if he was in pain anywhere?"

"No. He was guarding his side for a while."

"Which side?"

"Right."

"Low or high?"

"High, I think."

"How sensitive to pain is he there?"

Zelenka doesn't want to press on the poor man but he's very aware of all the eyes on him and he touches the pilot's stomach. He palpates each rib, reaching up to his arm pit.

Sheppard slaps his hand away. "Stop," he gasps.

"It's painful on the upper right side."

"Okay, lad. Just keep him comfortable. Talk to him, try to keep him alert."

They chat about McKay's bad piloting and the newest expansion to World of Warcraft, even though he knows the pilot doesn't play, preferring other video games. Sheppard answers with single words and bad jokes.

"You did ...good, Radek. Tell...Miko...she's pretty bad ass with a gun," Sheppard laughs weakly.

Three minutes later Zelenka wanders over to the cockpit. "How much longer?"

Rodney's bad wrist lays in his lap with an icepack and when he speaks every syllable ends in a snarl. "I've already told G.I Joe another half an hour. Maybe you should have asked him instead of pestering me. In fact, aren't you supposed to be playing nurse maid or something?"

"Colonel Sheppard lost consciousness a few minutes ago. I can't wake him up," Zelenka tells him in a low voice.

Rodney pales even further and scans the instruments. "I...I've tried everything ...I can't get any more power to the engines."

Zelenka lays a hand on his shoulder. "Just get us home."

---

Sheppard feels fuzzy, floating on a warm cloud, his body numb and tingling. He's not sore on the cold floor of a jumper. Lethargy seeps through his veins and the idea of sleep sets his mind on high alert. People...there were people who wanted to sleep so badly they'd gone insane.

He forces his crusted eyes open, takes in the spinning ceiling and the tingling becomes stabbing pin pricks.

"Sheppard?"

That was Rodney's voice.

"Hey, you... go get Carson, tell him the colonel is awake."

The room swims into a blur of halos and sounds. "What?"

"Oh, come on, there's no way you could forget our night with the zombies. I mean it was a bad Stephen King movie come to life."

Sheppard focuses on McKay's face. "No...I remember them. How did I end up---"

"You didn't take into account that a steel door blown apart by an explosive device might have done something bad?"

"Thought...I just hit my head...hurt some ribs."

"No, Colonel," Carson says, coming into view. "You lacerated your liver, lad. From the bruise pattern I'd reckon the door handle whacked you the hardest. Blunt force trauma isn't anything to treat lightly."

"Yeah, next time, tell us if your side is bothering you. Might save you forty stitches," Rodney snipes.

Sheppard raises his eyebrows, not wanting to imagine the long incision line. "Never...had surgery before."

"Wow, now you can strike that off your to-do-list."

"Rodney!" Carson admonishes. "If you don't behave you can leave."

"Are you okay?" Sheppard asks.

McKay sports a fresh cast and he looks at it a moment. "Fractured wrist, bruised ribs and my face looks ten shades of black and blue. Of course, you have a nice shiner, not that you can see it."

"We match," Sheppard rasps. He begins to feel the pull of heavy pain medication when his eyelids snap open again. "Peppers? Everyone else?"

"Where to begin?" Carson tuts. "Sergeant Peppers has a skull fracture, but there's no brain damage. Sergeant Brier broke his radius in two places and will need to replace a few molars. Dr. Herrington has a concussion, Zelenka has some bruising to the face and Miko was shaken up but not hurt. Your mission filled my infirmary all morning."

"We need to ..find out...what happened. Take...a security team…back," Sheppard says drowsily.

"I'll go tell everyone you're awake so they get outta my hair," Carson says with a smile. "And, Rodney, you can finally leave now that you've seen for yourself that the colonel's goin' to be alright."

"I think I'll go over some notes," McKay's voice drifts over his head.

Sheppard wants to tell him to go away but is unable to resist the darkness that drags him under again.

---

"So, you're the dungeon master?" Sheppard asks.

Zelenka nods. "I set up the rules of the campaign. Now I'm guessing you'll be a warrior?"

"Of course."

The Czech shakes his head. "Human?"

"Yeah, stick close to what I know best."

Miko hands him a die. "Roll this for your attributes: charm, intelligence, strength. See on the paper there; this will determine your character traits."

Sheppard gives her a grin, making her blush as he rolls the die on the table meant for him to eat his meals from.

Herrington chuckles, shuffling pieces of paper and drawing a graph before sitting back down. "I can't believe you've never played, sir."

"On the computer, yes, but I never did the pen and paper version as a kid. Moved around too much." Sheppard chews on his lip, trying not to move too much and pull on his sutures.

The three scientists sit around his bed; all of them are off duty for the next few days. Zelenka scribbles in his notepad. "Rodney is still going over the data he downloaded, but it looks like the tests were done to see if they could have soldiers that could fight without needing sleep."

"Lack of sleep and food… two things that can kill you without a bullet," Sheppard drawls, disappointed that he doesn't have more hit points for his character.

"The outpost was Ancient and so was the experiment but we think the humans were part of some other group. They were not old enough," Miko explains.

"Genii?" Sheppard asks.

"We don't know. Could be, or some other group of humans," Zelenka answers before turning his attention to the quest. "We'll begin outside a cave."

Herrington snorts. "Very creative."

Zelenka points at Sheppard. "The man is on morphine. Just trying to keep it simple."

"He can kick all our asses in military strategy. I still think you should give him a handicap," the young kid argues.

"Hey," Sheppard whines. "I'm laying flat on my back with tubes in me. I don't think I could be any more handicapped."

Miko covers her mouth, chuckling.

"You think that first guy, the one who blew himself up, set all those other explosives?" Herrington asks.

Zelenka shrugs his shoulders. "It might have been a back up plan. It was obvious they were waiting on someone to bring a cure. Rodney thinks he set up his pod to wake him up first to make that determination. The whole chamber was designed so that anyone with the gene would active it upon entering."

"Oh, you guys are not playing Dungeons and Dragons?" Rodney rolls his eyes, searching for a chair.

"Wanna play, McKay? We still need an elf," Sheppard says grinning.

"Oh, you should be talking," Rodney snorts.

Sheppard plays with his nasal cannula. "We really should invite Brier and Peppers."

"Oh, please. I think Brier is busy spreading the glory of yet another Colonel Sheppard legend to your growing army of worshipers. And all the nurses are doting on Sergeant George Clooney," Rodney says, grabbing a pad and paper. "Who's the DM?"

"I am," Zelenka answers.

"Oh, please, Radek. You have the imagination of one of the grunts running around here."

"McKay," Sheppard warns.

"Whatever. So, hand me the dice."

Sheppard lets out a contented sigh. "Okay, we're outside a cave, but there better be no bugs or zombies, Zelenka."

---

Original prompt

A story with John and team offworld with others (scientists or new recruits or whoever the author wants). Some kind of crisis event occurs, resulting in John and some others being injured. John downplays his injuries so he can get everyone back to Atlantis safely.

A/N: I went more towards John not realizing he was seriously injured..hope that was cool.