Treading Waters Universe

First story: Treading Water

Second Story: Still Waters

Third Story: Lost at Sea

Notes: You may read this story without reading the first one, but I'd recommend reading Treading Water first.

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: Alternate Universe. Flying fish.

Wordcount: Approx. 50,000 words

Disclaimer: After hours and hours of labour feedback is our only profit. Seriously. The universe of Stargate and Stargate Atlantis were created by and belong to MGM (and everyone else who legally owns them) and they are the ones who make the money. I think our profit is better.

Summary: A concerned/possibly injured Sheppard, a panicky/injured/possibly lost Rodney, Radek trying to keep Sheppard together, Lorne trying to keep everything else together. Treading Water Universe.

Author's Notes: This labour of love was completed on valentines day! And then we edited it some more! Or more specifically, Laryn edited and I agreed with everything she said…and then she made me write some more, and then she fixed it, and then she made me delete things, and then wrote her own parts and then made me write some more. And now it's done for real. It should probably be known that the first half of this story was created so that we could get to the second half of this story. Labour of love indeed.

We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

oooOOOooo

Lost At Sea

Co-Authored with Laryn

Chapter 1: Whiplash

His mind was blurry. It was blurry and heavy and he was stuck floating somewhere between physical awareness and the quiet, sleepy place he was certain he had been not too long ago. It was nicer there, without any of the annoying voices buzzing about his head like junebugs and black crickets, and he didn't think he had been there long enough to justify leaving yet. He wanted to go back, and he was pretty sure that if the insects didn't leave him alone soon he was going to crush them all under his coffee mug.

"Do you think we should wake him?" If he could begin to understand the crickets then they were getting much too close.

"Are you serious? Do you remember what happened to Plaid when he tried that last month?"

"Dr. Plaid tripped and sprained his ankle because he has the nerves of a hyperactive poodle, not because of anything Dr. McKay did."

"McKay bolted out of his seat so fast he almost gave us whiplash. It's not normal. He could accidentally kill one of us with his flailing." No, Rodney thought in irritation, he wouldn't accidentally kill them if they didn't leave his vicinity real soon.

"He's not that bad," someone defended him. Maybe if he kept ignoring them they'd lose interest and wander off.

"I don't see you volunteering to wake him up. Besides, if we don't do it soon he'll probably start drooling and electrocute himself." He didn't understand why they bothered whispering, they were standing so close they were practically kissing his ear.

"You see, that's why you work with the theoretical and I actually do the work. Electrocute himself, are you serious?" There was a moment of heavy silence, and whatever was pressing into his cheek was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"Maybe if we stood at a safe distance and poked him with something?" Oh, for the love of-

"If you people don't shut up and leave me alone in the next ten seconds, I'll give you a personal demonstration of all the different methods of electrocution in Atlantis." He grumbled, doing his best to sound menacing without physically moving a muscle, and heard the small group of people clustered around him take a collective step back. It was actually rather satisfying.

"Dr. McKay? We're sorry to wake you sir, but the control room is requesting your presence."

"Tell them to call me in the morning," he grouched. What was his face mashed into? It had to be one of the most uncomfortable pillows he'd ever used.

"Sir," the scientist was a little bolder this time, "It's nearly lunch time."

"What?" That got his attention and he finally opened his eyes and sat up. His face peeled off what was apparently a key board and his eyes focused on the computer screen before him. The screen saver featured an aquarium setting with a jerky image of him being chased by a giant goldfish. He was going to hurt Zelenka. Badly.

Rodney looked over to see three of his people standing in an approximate crescent around him. He looked at his watch and blinked. He must have fallen asleep sometime after he got back from his meeting with the structural engineers. They could put anybody to sleep. That fact didn't stop him from being instantly embarrassed however, and he glared at the three people before him to cover it up. He shook his mouse at the same time to deactivate the screen saver.

"Is there a reason you felt the need to wake me?" He squared his shoulders and sat straighter in the chair, feeling the tightness in his lower back. Dr. Flemming, who was apparently the spokesperson for this little entourage, looked slightly confused.

"Sir, the control room-"

"Yes, I heard you the first time. Why didn't you just send Radek?"

"He's not back from the jumper test flight to the mainland." The man responded and Rodney saw Drs. Hallow and Reichton quietly step away to their workstations, apparently satisfied that their involvement in this conversation was over.

"He's not?" Rodney frowned. He and Sheppard must have decided to visit with Teyla's people when they dropped her off then. Maybe have lunch there. He bet they were enjoying a bowl of gongoran soup right now. He frowned harder and Flemming cleared his throat.

"I'm sure there's nothing wrong, sir," he tried to console him and Rodney blinked at him, not sure if he should be touched or irritated by the kind, nervous words.

"Of course there isn't. And of course nobody else could take a look at these mysterious readings and come up with their own conclusions, hmm?" It was a redundant question, because they wouldn't have called him unless they really needed a bit of help. Or they had better not if they knew what was good for them. Flemming didn't seem to know how to answer him though and Rodney just waved him off as he stood from his seat. He needed coffee, the question was whether he should get it before he dealt with this latest issue, or wait until after he was done? Hell, if it took too long to figure out he could always send a minion to get a cup for him. Or one of Sheppard's goons.

Decision made he headed to the gate room, moving slowly until his legs were working properly again. When he entered the gate room he trudged briskly up the stairs and stopped beside Chuck's station, looking down at the Canadian soldier/technician with a raised eyebrow. Chuck looked up at him and quirked one of his own.

"Everything okay there, Dr. McKay?" He asked sounding amused. Rodney frowned.

"Define okay, because there are a million and one things I could be doing right now and none of them involve you."

"It's just that you have…squares," the man gestured in the general vicinity of his own cheek and Rodney reached a hand up to rub at his face. Damn keyboards.

"Lab accident. I'm fine. Why am I here, exactly?" He crossed his arms and the Nova Scotian lost his little grin, professionalism taking over.

"There's some kind of energy reading coming from the secondary sub-light engines, but no indication of a power drain from the ZPM." Rodney frowned at him.

"The sub-light engines? There shouldn't be any power there at all. Pull up the reading for me," he ordered even as Chuck did so. The man then unnecessarily pointed out what they were looking at.

"It's not strong, and usually I would perform a diagnostic before calling you, but it's already increased its power load by roughly four percent in the last ten minutes. Over all it's not much, but-"

"But we don't know where it's coming from," Rodney concluded for him. The sergeant nodded but Rodney was no longer paying any attention to him. This didn't make any sense. None of the propulsion systems were active; there shouldn't be any power flow in those systems whatsoever. And why was it building so quickly? Where was the energy coming from? Rodney began tapping into the city mainframe, the ZPM systems, the primary sub-light engines, the apparently not so dormant secondary sub-light engines, the power distribution system and related feedback grids and began gathering data. Sitting down in the seat that Chuck had already vacated for him, he frowned harder at the readings before him, an uncomfortable twisting sensation taking up residence in his stomach.

This wasn't right. Something about this really wasn't right at all.

oooOOOooo

The moment Atlantis had shown Chuck the sudden presence of an energy spike in the secondary sub-light engines he had just known that something was off about it. It was standard procedure to perform a diagnostic before going up the chain of command for aid, but his gut had told him to disregard normal protocols. If there was one thing he had learned in his years on Atlantis it was that you should never (or at least almost never) ignore your gut instincts. Watching as McKay swivelled on his chair between three computers and Atlantis's own systems had told him that he had been right to trust his instincts.

McKay's movements had been getting progressively more frantic over the last twenty minutes as he tried to trace down the problem. The mere fact that it was taking this long in the first place meant that it was either going to be absolutely nothing, or a lot more complicated than they wanted. Chuck wasn't exactly standing around twiddling his thumbs either. He'd been compiling data from several sources for McKay while keeping him apprised of the power increase and performing his normal city scans and gate duties.

He was just beginning to wish that he'd grabbed breakfast before his shift this morning as it looked like he was going to be working through lunch with McKay, when the doctor suddenly froze. Chuck turned and looked down at him, not having acquired a new chair yet. McKay had gone as pale as the first snow in October.

"Sir?" He asked, startled as the man suddenly shoved back from the seat and abruptly stood. His arms were frozen by his side like he had forgotten how to use them, and his eyes began to move rapidly back and forth.

"Sir?" He asked again, trying to jolt him out of whatever state he'd fallen into.

"Oh no," was the man's quiet, dire response. The three people working around them stilled and looked over. Hell, Chuck was pretty sure the personnel on the deck below had stopped working as well, though he couldn't see them.

"Rodney? Is something wrong?" Doctor Weir suddenly materialised by their sides. The woman had the most impeccable timing of anyone he'd ever known. Chuck glanced at her reflexively, but Rodney ignored her in favour of bending forward to tap furiously at the computer. Then he straightened abruptly again.

"Oh no oh no no no…" he trailed off, his mouth staying open a moment before he snapped it shut and seemed to collect himself. Seeing this Chuck tensed, his entire body suddenly as taut as a bowstring as he watched the scientist carefully. McKay blinked and then looked over at Weir, his eyes wide with panic even though he'd pulled on his game face.

"Elizabeth, we have a problem," he announced, but he was leaning forward again even as he spoke. Chuck watched him access the citywide communications system and hold the expedition leaders comments off by waving a hand in her direction. Her irritation never materialized, taking a backseat to the look of worry, and then McKay's voice blasted through the city at what Chuck assumed to be the maximum volume.

"Attention, Attention! This is McKay. We have a LEVEL ONE emergency. This is not a drill. I repeat we have a LEVEL ONE emergency. This is NOT A DRILL. We are entering full Lockdown Level One C. Shut everything down and secure it. You have fifteen minutes, people. Work fast." He shut off the communications unit.

Chuck stared at him a moment, took a deep breath, and then practically dove into his workstation. Because when McKay said to move in that voice, you damn well moved your ass. He listened to the heavy, rapid thumping of feet as the people around him scrambled away, boots and shoes heavy on the stairs and ground. There was nothing loose in the gateroom that needed to be secured and he was sure that the soldiers on patrol had disappeared even faster than the scientists.

Level one lockdown. Holy mother Mary and Joseph.

Chuck was already sweating as his fingers flew over the controls.

"Completely disconnect the power to the gate, we can't risk it activating because something important breaks," McKay ordered but Chuck was already ahead of him. There were five lockdown stages, each in a direct relationship to the severity of the situation. In lockdown levels one to three the gates connection was automatically severed to the city systems and the gate itself was removed from all external power sources.

"Rodney! What is going on?" Weir demanded as McKay turned to rush out of the control room, intent on following the same path the others had taken only moments before. No doubt he'd be heading to the ZPM room.

"I don't know!" He snapped, throwing his arms out in frustration.

"Rodney, I need you to explain this if I'm going to be of any assistance."

"Elizabeth, something is feeding an exponential amount of power into three of the sub-light propulsion engines. I don't know where it's coming from or, at this point, how to stop it. In approximately," Chuck looked up to see McKay stare wide eyed at his watch, "nineteen minutes the engines are going to overload and, if we're lucky, send Atlantis skipping across the ocean like a stone." He took a deep breath to calm himself and Chuck found himself copying the action.

"And if we're not lucky?" She demanded, and Rodney threw his arms out in frustration again but did not elaborate, while Chuck tried not to think of the many possible outcomes.

"Can we evacuate the city?" She asked, her tone grim and Chuck found himself shaking his head along with McKay.

"It's not possible, ma'am," he spoke up without looking away from his task. A level one lockdown was ordered when the city was expected to take sudden, massive damage and that, for whatever reason, an evacuation was impossible. The level C designation meant that all activities be halted, all projects terminated, secured, and/or safely stored. "When power began feeding into the propulsion systems the city automatically put the gate into stand-by. It would take at least fifteen minutes to bypass the systems and that wouldn't leave enough time to evacuate."

"Is there nothing you can do?" Dr. Weir looked back to Dr. McKay. Chuck slid beneath the DHD console and snapped off the panel to the crystals, then reached in to remove the primary control crystal. He could hear the frustration in McKay's voice as he replied.

"There are a tonne of things I need to do, but I can't stop this. There isn't enough time, Elizabeth, and I have to get to the ZPM. Get Sheppard and Zelenka back here, and then lock everything down because this is one miracle I am not going to be able to pull out of my-"

"The stargate is secure, sir!" Chuck barked out, shoving the crystal securely into his breast pocket (he didn't have time to find a more secure location for it) and moving on to his next task. He still had to secure primary and secondary communications.

"Okay!" McKay barked, and was on the move again, already half way down the gateroom stairs. Dr. Weir watched McKay leave in the nearly silent, cavernous gateroom and then took a deep breath before turning back to him.

"Put me through to the mainland, Sergeant," she requested, and Chuck nodded as he made the connections. He could only imagine the chaos the city was experiencing outside of his small domain, and prayed that they would get everything, and everyone, secured in time. "Then I'll need to speak with Major Lorne."

oooOOOooo