Lonely Dreams and Uttered Pleas

Wasps were flying through the air.

Hitting the walls and ricocheting back. The sound was deafening, blinding, numbing.

McKay twisted around, curling onto his side and pushing his face into the dirt. He gasped as something landed heavily on his legs and when he closed his mouth, the dirt was gritty between his teeth.

"Sheppard." McKay whimpered weakly, pleading at imaginary figures, grasping at straws.

His mind was in turmoil, being sucked down a vortex and breaking apart before he could hit the bottom. His swollen and bloodied fingers shook beside his face, pressing into his cheek.

The wasps had stopped flying and there was quiet.

McKay wasn't sure he liked the quiet, he felt dead, he felt suffocated by the impenetrable stillness. He wondered whether he was still breathing, even, it was that quiet.

"Dying." He muttered and, vaguely, he was pleased with the way it flowed effortlessly off his tongue.

"No, Rodney, not dying. Never dying." A voice said into McKay's ear, confusing him.

A puff of warm air blew across his cheek, and then a warm hand was placed on his neck, he was unaware they were checking for a pulse. They found it, weak, thready, barely there.

"Come on buddy, open your eyes." Again, insistent.

But McKay didn't care, why should he? He was dying. Dying. Inevitable.

"Please, open your eyes McKay, please."

He was suddenly warm, wrapped and held tight. McKay let out a shaky breath. And then another. He felt himself going limp in the mysterious warmth, revelling in it and wishing it would never let go.

But he was still shivering, his teeth chattering and his fingers were so cold against his cheek. Tears were spilling down his cheeks, a tide let loose. He sniffled weakly, wondering if he was dead yet.

"Dammit, Rodney! I didn't wait this long just to watch you give up!" The voice yelled into his ear and McKay gave a full bodied shudder. The arms around him were so tight, so warm, the voice yelling in his ear scared him, made him pull back even further from the world.

He was sinking deeper and deeper, away from the cold and the pain. McKay smiled as his shivering subsided.

Standing in sand. Toes curling into the warm softness that made him smile.

McKay opened his eyes, took in the beautiful veiw that was the beach and the sparkling ocea. The sun was so brigtht above and the sky was the bluest of blues. A seagull soared overhead.

McKay sat in the sand and smelled the salty water and the seaweed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been the beach, time was a funny thing. It ran without legs and skipped without joy.

Something dripped onto his forehead. McKay frowned and reached up a hand to wipe it away. His fingeres came away red, blood pooling in his palm. Revulsion filled him, sent his staggered to the waters edge to wash the blood off.

The water was cooling and serene.

But the sun was no longer warm, it was an empty orb that was filled with hollow light and false hope.

McKay's reflection watched sadly as he scrubbed and scrubbed at the blood that would not wash off. McKay began to cry as it appeared to stain his skin.

And then he looked at his reflection, but the McKay reflection did not move with him, instead it simply watched him, and whispered.

"You're done."

The reflection shifted and he was staring at first Kolya and then Sheppard. Anger and then sadness.

Such sadness.

The faux McKay returned and McKay watched in horror as bruises blossomed in purples and blacks along his face. Blood spurted and then dripped thickly down his face in rivets that dried and cracked.

A little sob escaped McKay's lips and he tried to back up, but the water was like quick sand, sucking him down by his hands and his legs. He remained in that post, mouth open in fear as from the water rose his reflection, whole and real. It surfaced from the water without so much as a gasp and sat before McKay.

"You're done." He whispered again.

McKay felt utter panic and desperation pull his fist back and then strike. He hit his reflection in the face and expected to feel soft skin and bone break against his hand.

But instead he was met by a hard force, cold and solid. Pain lit his body alight and he began to wheeze, feeling blood run down his own face.

The faux McKay collapsed in a mass of uneven shards and slivers, shinning beneath the tried to gather them up, but they pricked and stung at his hand. He began to sob, it was so hard to breathe, he couldn't think and soon couldn't see properly.

He sat back and collapses in on himself, wishing he would just die already and he supposed, he knew, that like a broken mirror, it was better to leave his mind broken than hurt himself trying to fix it.

"You're done." He said. And he began to laugh.

"Please. Please. Please. Please. Please." A choked moan. Sad. Full of heartbreak.

McKay shifted uneasily in the darkness of his mind, metaphysically wiping the tears from his eyes as he finally recognized the voice that was calling to him.

Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard Sheppard

"Sheppard."

A weak laugh. "Yes, Rodney it's me, we came for you. Open your eyes for me, buddy."

McKay thought for a moment. He pushed through those broken and fractured shards that were the remnants of his once brilliant mind and he surfaced.

OOO

Hearing that word. That single word uttered in the whispered plea of someone he knew as a dear friend, spurred Sheppard on.

"Sheppard."

He began to run, over the ruins and through the rest of the hallways, he saw the acute angle and stopped, peering through a dark doorway. Sheppard made out two figures hurrying down another long hallway. There was a dark shape dragging behind them.

Dread filled him when he saw that still figure, but then desperation made his growl.

Without another thought, Sheppard raised his gun and fired, shot after shot, until both figures were motionless and broken.

He stood frozen for a moment, his breathing was rapid and harsh, hurting his chest and pulling at his achy heart. Teyla and Ronon caught up to him, Teyla uttered a little cry.

And then he was kneeling beside his friend, hands hovering over him as if he were unsure, how to act, what to do.

Rodney mumbled something and Sheppard felt his face go pale. He leaned in and whispered into the motionless man's ear.

"No, Rodney, not dying. Never dying." And a little frown formed on Rodney forehead.

Sheppard touched his cheek, moving to rest his fingers on McKay's throat to feel for a pulse. He was acutely aware of how bitterly cold his friend's skin was.

"Come on buddy, open your eyes." Sheppard hissed. He felt torn apart, Rodney was in such bad condition. He was covered in blood, his hands looked mangled and his face was bruised beyond possibility.

"Please, open your eyes McKay, please."

He was going to break. Please, please, Sheppard thought silently, begging, praying.

He gathered his friend into his arms, his head was heavy on Sheppard's shoulder. He could feel Rodney's shaking lessen, but he wasn't sure it was a good thing.

"Dammit, Rodney! I didn't wait this long just to watch you give up!"He shouted it without warning and even Teyla and Ronon jumped.

It seemed to rouse the limp form that had once been the animated Rodney McKay. But still the man did not open his eyes. Sheppard wanted so desperately to see those baby blues.

"Please. Please. Please. Please. Please." He found himself moaning in anguish, rocking McKay back and forth like one might a sick child.

"Sheppard."

"Yes, Rodney it's me, we came for you. Open your eyes for me, buddy."

Sheppard watched as his friends lashes fluttered and then parted, revealed a pair of washed out, bleak blue eyes. It broke something inside him to see that bleakness, that hopelessness and that strange glint that could only be madness. He pulled McKay even more tightly into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Rodney."

"Sheppard."

"So sorry."

OOO

McKay closed his eyes and wondered whether he was dead yet.

I hope you enjoyed the last chapter of Lonely Dreams and Uttered Pleas.

I'm sorry if the end was not fitting or not what you expected. I might write a sequel, if enough people want it, which is doubtful!

I hope you reveiw with what you thought of the story overall, whether you liked it or hated it, I'd love to hear from you, the readers.

And thank you so much to everyone that has reveiwed! You have made this time bearable! And I look forward to coming home from school and logging on to FanFic.

Alerix Slynn