Author: Tipper

Disclaimer: Owned by wealthier people than me.  Borrowing.  No profit made, no infringement intended.

Parts: Fifteen Chapters

Characters: Sheppard and McKay…it's really just too easy….Teyla, Ford, Beckett all eventually show up.

A/N—This is in honor of Halloween.

A/N 2—Bioluminescence is light given off by a chemical reaction in a living organism, like those glow in the dark fishies deep in the ocean, or those sparks you see in the waves on a hot summer night, or a firefly showing off its colors, or the gold foxfire on that tree stump in the garden, glowing like candles in the yard.  Once people thought they were fairies, others thought them to be ghosts, but, as Rodney knows, there is always a logical explanation….

He hopes.    

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CHAPTER ONE: THE TEMPLE

A small, innocuous looking temple on the top of a tree-covered hill held secrets none of them could have imagined. 

They were on a routine exploratory trip—looking for trading partners again. The MALP had shown nothing but a peaceful planet, and the signs around the gate suggested visitors were welcome. When they got there, McKay encouraged them to check out the temple based on some strange energy readings showing up on his scanner, and as they had some time to kill....

It was made of a light colored stone, like the ancient Greek temples, and might even have been white once. It sat atop the large hill about a mile from the gate, easily visible to anyone below, and appeared to be about the same size as a small town's bandstand. It almost looked like a folly built by some Manor-born aristocrat, because it was so little and seemed to have no purpose other than being aesthetically pleasing.

The temple's first secret was revealed when the four members of Team One walked inside to find carved stone steps leading down into the darkness...to a room almost as big as the Gate Room back on Atlantis. And more corridors and stairways led off this room to smaller and larger rooms below, and each one of those had even more doorways, more stairs and led to even more rooms. In other words, the entire hill was the temple...and it was huge.

The second secret was revealed by shining their flashlights on the walls, to find images carved in bas relief, like the Elgin Marbles so proudly on display in the British Museum. They showed celebrations and ceremonies, classrooms and lectures, games and sport, all of which this temple had once obviously been a focal point for.

But something else was obvious as well—no one had been in here in a very long time. Green moss, lichen and other plant life needing little or no light covered almost everything, so that they had to rip much of it away to see the marble carvings. Tree and plant roots had burst through the rock to climb down and around the rooms, blocking holes that had once let in air and light. And over it all was the steady drip of water and the heavy smell of decay.

In other words, not the nicest place to spend the day.

The third secret was revealed when Ford nearly fainted getting to close to a sconce on one wall. He stumbled back, complaining of light-headedness. McKay inspected it more closely, guessed at the source of Ford's condition, and took a chance before Sheppard could stop him. Pulling the matches out of his pocket while Teyla and the major were checking on Ford, he tossed a lit one into the sconce....

The room burst into light with flames erupting from all the sconces. Seconds later, with some sputtering and a stronger smell of burning gas, the formally dark hallways leading away from this room were lit up as well. But it was a bit like Christmas lights. Every so often, the natural growths that had taken over the many chambers of the temple blocked the carefully designed lighting system, and they went through a number of matches restarting the thread of sconces. Still, it made getting around much easier.

Not that this stopped Sheppard giving McKay an earful, which the scientist did not quite understand. He did not almost blow them up! He had known what he was doing!

...Mostly.

Luckily for McKay, it was a moot point. And they did get around...and around...and around.

They checked room after room, and found nothing.

After a while, Sheppard was convinced McKay was getting nowhere, and sent Teyla and Ford to make contact with the indigenous population before it got too late in the day. He argued with McKay after they had gone, until he finally got the scientist to promise they would only explore one more room. McKay chose a rectangular room deep down inside the bowels of the temple, many levels below the entrance, where he insisted the strange readings were the strongest. It turned out to be about eighteen feet long and fifteen feet wide, and had two entrances, one on each side of the lengthwise walls of the room. The floor was slimy and wet, and, to Sheppard's nose, it smelled more like death than any other place he had ever been.

And if Sheppard had listened to his instincts and gotten him and McKay out sooner, none of this would have happened....

________________________________________

CHAPTER TWO: THE CHAMBER BELOW

Sheppard was bored. He sighed, watching as McKay blew out the match the scientist had just used to light the nearest sconce to the door, no longer impressed when five more lit up in quick succession around the walls. Not all of the sconces lit up, leaving more than half of the long room in darkness. He sighed again at that, and looked back again at the scientist. McKay had already put his matches away and was peering at his scanner in the light shed by the first fire he had lit, frowning as he tried to make sense of the readings.

Bored, but wanting to be useful, the major pulled out his own book of matches and started walking towards the first sconce that hadn't lit up, intending to set it alight.

His foot slipped as a stone depressed beneath his toes, and he stumbled forward a couple of feet to the center of the room.

"Ouch," he muttered, looking down at his boot, as if to find the answer there, then back to the rock he had slipped on.

KA-THUNK!

McKay's eyes flew up as the loud noise echoed throughout the room, turning towards the major in confusion as a strange, repetitive cht-cht-cht-cht sound became audible. Sheppard returned the gaze, his brow furrowing when the sound didn't stop. He started to walk back towards the doctor.

"What is...."

With a thunderous crack, the temple floor opened up without warning, splitting in half with a rumble and a massive quake, sending Sheppard sideways onto his rear with a "whumpf." McKay fell jarringly to the ground on one knee, one hand outstretched towards the wall to keep his balance, staring around at the suddenly shifting floor slabs in open-mouthed wonder. Three sconces went out, plunging more of the room into shadow. The major, meanwhile, tried to regain his feet...and found himself standing on thin air. Sheppard gave a shout of surprise, then a yell of terror as he fell down into the yawning chasm, arms reaching to catch the edge of the floor moving away from him and slipping....only to have his right arm caught in the firm grip of the doctor.

With surprising speed, McKay had jumped forward, snagging the major’s arm just as he disappeared past the edge.

The floor continued to split and shake, and Sheppard found himself looking downwards into nothingness. His feet flailed about, seeking purchase where there was none, and his left arm sought something to grab onto on the smooth, slime covered stone wall in front of him. He swung his left arm up, grabbing onto McKay's left jacket sleeve, then higher, trying to grab the lip of the wet floor. The fingertips slipped, just shy of the edge, and he found himself returning his grip to the khaki sleeve. The doctor had both hands latched firmly on Sheppard's other arm--and they were the only thing keeping him from falling as everything continued to shudder and move around them.

Then he felt McKay slip forward.

"McKay!"

"Hang on!"

"What do you think I’m doing?"

McKay grunted, then answered, "Pulling my arms out of my sockets?! Stop moving!"

He slipped forward again, and Sheppard tightened his grip, staring up at him wide eyed.

"Damn it! Did you just slip forward again?"

"No, no, we’re okay!"

"Can you pull me up?"

"Not really!"

"Why not?"

"Because if I move in any direction,"  the scientist took a deep breath, "it’ll be to follow you down into that hole!"

"What?"

"You heard me!  I was slipping forward until I managed to get my leg wedged."

"Wedged?"

"In between two of the moving floor slabs." He grimaced, his eyes scrunching up, "Hurts like hell too!"

"Shit McKay!  I don’t care about your leg!  I’m dangling over a bottomless pit, here!"

"Oh please!  This pit’s," McKay drew in another deep breath, "not bottomless!"

"You think I care?"

"You will…when you hit the bottom!"

"Funny!  What the hell did you do?"

"What?"

"Close this floor back up!  Now!"

"I didn’t do it!"

"The hell you didn’t!"

"You’re the one with the all powerful gene, Sheppard!  What did you do!"

"I…."

The world trembled again, and McKay hissed as his wedged leg got squeezed by the shifting rocks.  The slabs had obviously been designed to rise and separate, to accommodate the shift of the floor when it opened up, and now they were settling closer together.  Sheppard’s fingers grasped at the khaki colored coat, trying to hold on tighter.

"Just one more room!" the Major suddenly ground out, "Just one more room, you said!  What harm could it do?  One more room because this temple may still contain information we could use; one more room that happens to be so deeply underground that the radios won’t work!"

McKay's expression was dumbfounded, "This is not my fault!"

"Oh, come on!  Ford and Teyla will be miles away by now!  Why in God's name did I let you talk me into looking at one more room!"

"We couldn’t reach our radios right now anyway!"

"Ha!"

"Ha yourself!"

"Damn it!  Just get me out of here!"

"Fine!  Can you," McKay gasped again, "Can you pull yourself up?"

"Are you going to slip?"

"No, I…don’t think so."

Sheppard nodded, grabbing more of the khaki sleeve…and started to pull.

McKay started to slip forwards again.

They yelled at the same time, ending in another hiss of pain as McKay wedged his now obviously scraped leg deeper into the wedge of space he’d found.  He’d felt the trouser fabric tear, and was pretty sure the tackiness he felt on his leg wasn’t water.

"Don’t," the doctor hissed, his eyes screwed shut, "do that again."

Sheppard breathed deeply, watching McKay’s pained expression, then tried to calm himself down. 

"Okay, okay," he whispered, "is the floor no longer moving?"

The doctor opened his tearing eyes and looked across the way to the other side of the floor.  The chasm they had somehow created was about ten feet across, from what he could see.  And, yes, it had stopped shifting.

"I think so."

"What the hell is this for?"

"I don’t know?  A trap of some kind?"

"Damned effective," Sheppard noted darkly.

"Well, one of us must have triggered it…." The doctor twisted to the right to see over his right shoulder.  All he could see was parts of the moss encrusted floor, made up of the large granite slabs and some smaller brick like stones that roots, fungi and sickly looking plants had grown up in between.  The air down here was very wet--like a sewer or, he realized, a still living cave. 

The dank air was also tickling his nose something fierce.  In fact…oh…crap….

"Ah choo!"

"Oh…God!  Thank you so, so much, McKay," Sheppard shook his head, shaking the drips from his hair.

"Sorry, I would have covered my mouth," Rodney was having a hard time expanding his lungs, but he had no trouble with an evil grin, "but, well, you know."

"Yeah, yeah.  Just turn your head next time."

McKay continued to smile, and looked over his other shoulder, seeing his backpack a few feet away, and some sticks that had once been thick living roots of some massive tree. He tried to see anything else interesting about the floor, but nothing looked too helpful. "Where," he sniffed, trying to hold back another sneeze, "where did you step?"

"Huh?"

"Did you step on anything that moved?"

"Besides the whole frikkin’ floor?"

"Before the whole frikkin’ floor!"

"Oh, um," Sheppard’s eyes swung from left to right as he considered the question, and finally he nodded.  "Yeah…I remember looking down because I thought my foot had slipped.  One of the smaller stones I think…it was brick colored."

"Is it to my left or right?"

The major arched an eyebrow from his position about a foot and a half from the top, "Are you serious?"

McKay grunted, twisting his torso as much as he could to look over his shoulders again at the floor he was lying on.  Peering behind him, he took stock of the number of brick colored stones laid in a loose pattern around the larger granite slabs.

He gritted his teeth, wedged his left leg as deep as he could, then, slowly, gingerly, lifted up his right foot.

When he didn’t slip forward immediately, he gained a little hope.  Sheppard was watching him, trying to gauge from McKay’s face what he was doing.  He could feel the doctor’s arm muscles bunching as they lifted him a little higher to twist himself more.  The major thought he might get more purchase from his fingers on the edge now, but, with the slickness of the wet rock, he knew it still wouldn’t mean much.

McKay tapped the first reddish rock with his right foot.  Nothing.  Moving it, he touched the next one.  Still nothing.  Three more yielded no results.  His body started to complain from the contortions he was forcing on it.  Flexible he was not.

"This is worse," McKay gasped as it felt like he’d pulled something, "than Twister!"  He stopped when he hit the last red stone to his right with no effect.  "Crap!"

"What?"

"It must be on my left side, or under me," McKay explained, as his arms bunched again and Sheppard was lowered again.  The doctor then lifted again, twisting the other way, and hissed again as his left leg spasmed in pain.  He also slipped forward again.

"McKay!"

"I know, " the doctor gasped through clenched teeth, "I know."

"Sorry.  Just keep thinking about hitting the ground down there…somewhere."

"Mmmm hmmm," McKay looked over his left shoulder more carefully this time….

And his breath caught.

Something was there.  Like a mist cloud, except colored a jade-like green.  He’d actually thought he’d seen it before a couple of times earlier, but both times had dismissed it as some sort of bioluminescence based on the color and the dampness of the walls.  This time, though, he felt a strange sort of intensity about it--as if it were watching him.  He blinked a little bit, tendrils of fear niggling at his chest, then looked down at Sheppard.

"What?" the major asked of the wide eyed stare.

"I…there’s…."  McKay looked back, and frowned.  It was gone.

Sheppard gripped tighter, "What!"

"Apparently nothing," the doctor wheezed, berating himself for thinking anything else.  What was he, five?  "Trick of the light."  His eyes focused more on the ground, and he looked at the dead roots not far from him.  With a grimace, he considered if he could reach one.

"Major," he looked back down into the hole, "I need an arm."

"Like hell!"

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Sheppard’s jaw tensed.  "Which one?"

"Left."

The major nodded, and switched his grip on McKay’s left arm to his right.  His right hand wasn’t actually holding on to anything, but Rodney was ahead of him.  Very carefully, he turned Sheppard’s arm until the major’s right hand could firmly grab his right sleeve.

"Okay," the doctor said softly, "Ready?"

"No."

"Good.  Here we go."

"Slowly!"

"I’m not an idiot, Major."

Sheppard just grinned without humor.  No comment, his teeth said.  McKay just glared at him, then returned to what he was doing.

Carefully, truthfully more concerned for what this would do to his own right arm right now than to Sheppard, his left hand let go.  His whole body shifted to compensate holding Sheppard’s entire weight with one arm, and he was pretty sure that, tomorrow, there would be almost no feeling in his right arm at all.  Swearing a little under his breath, he didn’t say a thing as pins and needles started dancing along his right shoulder joint. 

He was able to twist a little more to his left now, and he snaked that arm out to reach for the nearest stick.  Cold fingers touched the end of one and, with what nails he had, he managed to coax it close enough to grab it.  It was surprisingly dry for the environment, and he was able to grasp it firmly and draw it to him.  Twisting a little more, ignoring the sharp pains in his right shoulder and wedged left knee, he started poking and pressing down on red stones.

Sheppard, amazingly, didn’t make a noise.  He just watched McKay’s face again, letting it be his guide to what was happening.  He saw frustration and determination in the set of the man’s jaw, though the former was beginning to get the better of the latter.

Then, suddenly, the tense features loosened.   McKay smiled slightly and turned to look back at Sheppard.

"I think I found it.  One of the stones is loose."

"Then hit it!"  It was snapped.  Sheppard hadn’t meant to snap.  Rodney favored him with an arched brow, then looked back behind him, presumably at the rock. 

"Just wanted to warn you.  If I hit it, with any luck, the floor will start to close.  You’re going to have to move quickly when it comes back together to get yourself out.  It opened pretty quickly, it could close just as quickly…and it could sandwich you."

Sheppard shook his head, "I’ll take my chances."

"And everything’s going to shake again, don’t forget…and my leg….I might have to pull it out, if I can, of the wedge, or it might get crushed as well."  He grimaced at the thought.

"Just try not to slip," the major replied cheekily.

"You need to work on your gratitude, major."

"One more room!" Sheppard mocked again.

"Oh, I so want to drop you right now!"

He just got another cheeky grin in response.

"Right," McKay licked his lips, "Here goes nothing." 

________________________________________________

CHAPTER THREE: BY ANONYMOUS

Taking a more stabbing like grip on the stick, the doctor pressed the stick against the stone…and pushed….A tiny growling noise grew in his throat as he forced the stick down on the stone from his awkward angle….and let out a pleased yell as it finally responded.

Another KA-THUNK echoed through the room, and suddenly everything was moving again. The walls cranked and trembled, rocks shifted and lifted and slid noisily, and the whole structure shook as the two halves of the split floor drew back together. 

Rodney dropped the stick and grabbed for Sheppard again with both hands, lowering his head as the rocks encasing his left knee started moving, his eyes closing in an ineffective attempt to pretend the stones weren't scraping the skin off his leg. 

John, meanwhile, was watching the far side get closer, ignoring the tightening of Rodney’s grip as the scientist reacted to the pain from his knee.

"All right," Sheppard said, the plan already formulated in his mind, "You’re going to have to swing me."

McKay’s eyes opened as he choked out the operative word, "Swing?"

"Yeah." 

"Which way?"

Sheppard arched an eyebrow up at him at what he perceived to be a really dumb question, "Back and forth," he stated.  Wasn’t it obvious?

"Back and forth?" McKay ignored the look, returning it with one of his own, "What does that mean?  And don’t say to and fro!"

"Left and right!  Aren’t you supposed to be a physics—"

"Well you could have meant towards the opposite side!"

"Well I didn’t!  And we don’t have time—"

"Okay, okay, and if I start to slip?"

"You’re going to have to get that leg out of that spot soon enough anyway, right?  We’ll have to take the chance."

"Good point, good point.  In fact, my knee is….Owowowowowow…."

The edges were about four feet apart now.

"Start swinging!"

Rodney started to swing the man to the left, then right, then back again, the motions creating a larger and larger arc.  The major helped, using his legs.  Suddenly, the rocks shifted where Rodney’s knee was, and he only had a split second of warning before he had to rip his leg up out of the hole before the two slabs of granite slammed together, punctuating the movement with a yelp.  Immediately, he slid forwards towards the edge of the floor, the swinging hastening his movement.   By pure luck, his left foot found a crevice which, for a brief second, gave him enough leverage to finish swinging the major up almost perpendicular to the quickly closing gap.

Almost simultaneously, Sheppard let go of Rodney with his left hand.

"Let go!" he shouted, and Rodney didn’t need to be asked twice.  He released the major’s right arm on the upward swing just as Sheppard slapped the left hand down on the left side of the moving floor, the arm bent, and the right landed a split second later on the side Rodney was on.  Like a gymnast on parallel bars, the major used his arms to propel himself up and out, his legs completely straight, and then over onto his left side, just as the two sides of the floor slammed together.  He rolled away from Rodney, finally ending up lying on his back….

And Rodney cried out as his left foot got crushed in the "crevice" he had found.

Without concern for the consequences, the scientist fell back and slammed his hand down on the red tile again…

Opening up the floor for a second time.

KA-THUNK!

"What the…." Sheppard felt himself strewn about like leaves on a windy fall day as the moving floor threw him towards the opening again.  "Rodney!" he shouted in annoyance, this time actually managing to get his feet under him and successfully running and diving for the open doorway on his side of the growing gap.

The scientist, meanwhile, pulling his now aching foot out as soon as the rocks shifted apart, acted in mirror image to the major, stumbling backwards into the doorway they had originally entered the room by.  He looked across at Sheppard, half crouched on the other side in his own doorway, confirmed visually he was all right, then focused all his attention on his own misery.  He slid down onto his rear and clutched at his left knee and foot, both of which were sending stinging, rippling threads of pain up and down his abused left leg.  The pants were ruined, shredded by the rock, as was his skin underneath, and he felt a little light-headed when he lifted up one hand to find it stained with blood. 

Sure it was superficial but…ooh…wooziness. 

Shaking himself out of it, he focused on palpitating the knee, guessing he hadn’t broken it, just bruised it badly.  Taking a deep breath, he convinced himself it looked worse than it was and forced the light-headedness away.  Ripping off the bottom half of his left trouser leg, he wrapped it around the knee and tied it off.  His foot ached inside the boot, but the pain was already becoming dulled.

A moment later, the grinding of the wheels controlling the floor stopped, and the room stilled.

Sheppard sighed, standing up a little shakily.  He tapped his toe on the remaining two feet of flooring left on his side of the hole, then inched outwards.  Stopping, he looked over at Rodney, to see the scientist breathing heavily and leaning forward with his knees bent and his head pressed against them.  He grimaced at the obviously bloody left knee.

"You okay?"

McKay sighed and looked up. "Yeah, sure, just peachy," he replied sarcastically, "You?"

Sheppard nodded, then the concern on his face became a glare, "Damn it, McKay, what in God's name possessed you to open the floor for again!"

McKay shrugged, ignoring the tone, "Oh, sorry.  Got my left foot caught.  It's okay, though."  He looked past his knee to his left foot, flexing it inside the boot.

Sheppard tried to maintain the glare, but Rodney looked so pathetic, he just sighed.  "Oh…well…don't know if you noticed, but I’m on the wrong side.  The way out is on yours."

"So?"  McKay tipped his head back, resting it against the granite door frame, closing his eyes again, "We'll just close it again."

"Hunh," the major grimaced.  After a moment, he looked down and grabbed the P90 still hanging from his vest and checked it out.  Once sure it hadn’t been damaged, he lifted it up and turned on the flashlight.

"What are you doing?" Rodney asking, turning his head at the click of the light and opening his eyes again, adding a touch sarcastically, "You going to shoot me for opening the floor again?"

"Ha, don't tempt me," the major replied, sliding a little closer to the edge on his side.  "I just wanted to see how deep it is."  He shone the light down into the darkness of the gaping hole, following the wall down, "Call it morbid curiosity.  I want to know how close I…."  He trailed off as the flashlight caught the bottom.

"Came to ‘splat’?" Rodney finished, pushing himself up onto his feet.  "Yeah, I can understand that."  He grabbed for his own weapon, still not used to carrying it, and turned the light on.  It wasn’t until he looked up again that he saw the major’s expression.

Or rather, lack of one. 

Sheppard was interesting.  He reacted to most things with a smile, an arched eyebrow, or a quip of some kind.  He also got angry at things--usually Rodney--but never for sustained periods.  But this was something new.  Never before had McKay seen Sheppard with no expression at all.

"What is it?" he asked, the words almost a half whisper.

Hazel eyes lifted to meet his.  There was nothing there but sorrow.

Rodney limped over to the edge, the left knee sore but functioning, and peered down, following the edges of the wall as Sheppard had done.  In a moment, he had the light focused on the same spot as the major.

For a few moments, he didn’t say anything.  He just moved the flashlight around to see more of the hidden room below.  Finally, he had to ask--to confirm what he was seeing.

"Were they…were they children?"

"Yeah."

The hole was a pit, about twelve feet in depth, eighteen feet long and ten feet wide, the latter being how far away McKay was currently standing from Sheppard on the far side.  The floor was stone, but there was mud and moldy, dead straw down there as well.  There were also bones--hundreds of bones.  McKay counted about thirty skulls on his first pass, all small, all fairly intact.  Age was indeterminate, but some might have been babies and others as old as nine of ten.  There were still clothes on some of the skeletons--dresses on some--and there were also toys down there.  Closer inspection showed holes in the walls, possibly air vents, long since clogged up by earth, fungi and growth. 

"How old are the bones?" Sheppard asked, looking over at McKay.

The scientist shook his head, "I don’t know.  Old.  I mean, based on the rate of decay and the fact that this is a fairly sealed chamber, which probably helped preserve these bones and fabrics…let’s just say really old.  I’ve seen the catacombs in Rome, and the bones that were preserved there are closed two thousand years old….But the air is also wet and….Look, this is not my bailiwick, major.  Beckett’s really the one to answer that, not me."

"Think the people on this planet knew about them?"  There was anger there, with an undercurrent of fury the scientist had never heard in the major.

McKay shrugged, looking at him honestly, "How am I supposed to know that? But, if these are as old as they seem…probably not.  This whole temple," McKay indicated the room with a wave of his hand, "is ancient and clearly hasn’t seen life in its walls for, I don’t know, hundreds of years?  Who knows."  He shook his head sadly, looking back down into the pit.

"Why were they down there?"

McKay sighed.  Why did they always assume he knew the answers to these things?  He really had to learn to stop answering when people asked him questions—it only got him into trouble.  He lifted the flashlight to examine the walls of the pit more carefully…and paused when he came to a painting of sorts.  It looked like a half sun…but were those meant to be people beneath it? 

"I’ve seen that image like that before," Sheppard said softly.  "On Athos.  It’s a Wraith ship."

McKay frowned, letting his light trace more of the image, then some of the others nearby.  Paintings covered much of the walls, and an idea coalesced in his mind.

"I think," he said slowly, "someone put these children here…to hide them."

Sheppard frowned, "What?"

"From the Wraith.  But something must have happened.  For some reason, the Wraith…they must have killed everyone left above ground, because no one came to free the children.  Eventually…they died."

The major’s eyes closed, and, abruptly, he turned the light off on his flashlight.

"That’s enough," he said coldly.  "Close it back up."

"Close it up?" McKay looked confused, "But shouldn’t we…."  he looked down into the darkness, and grimaced at something he could see glowing green down there.  He pointed his light at it, but the lichen, or whatever it was causing the surreal light, faded instantly.

"They’re already buried.  This is their tomb, McKay.  Let them be."

Rodney closed his mouth, lips forming a thin line, and he nodded.  "Go stand in the doorway," he directed sadly. 

Sheppard nodded, walking back to the stone frame and bracing himself.

McKay shut his flashlight off, paused for a moment, then looked down.   He cleared his throat and started speaking very softly.

"Do not stand by my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints upon the snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain and
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am that swift uplifting rush,
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand by my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die."

Sheppard said nothing when he was done, until McKay looked up and caught his eye.  The major nodded.

"That was nice."

The scientist shrugged, "Don't know who it's by.  I memorized that when my…well…anyway, it seemed appropriate."  Turning, he limped over to the red stone, took one more look at Sheppard to make sure he was ready, then hit the stone.

And that’s when the roof came down.

____________________________________________________

CHAPTER FOUR:  EARTHLY MOVEMENTS

"Look out!" Sheppard yelled, as a chunk of ceiling narrowly missed crushing McKay, the scientist diving into the doorway on his side and cowering down.  The Ka-Thunk noise they'd been expecting to hear was drowned out by a high pitched squealing and the distinctive sounds of breaking gears as the ancient device finally gave up the ghost.

Rodney stared with terrified eyes as cracks splintered and split the shaking walls, ceiling and floor, bits of rock dust, wet earth and moss puffing and spitting out of the openings.  Another large chunk of ceiling landed about two feet away from him, sending him deeper into the narrow hallway.  The firelight in the room spluttered and went out, leaving only the ones in Rodney's corridor lit.

"McKay!" Sheppard shouted from the shadows, shining his flashlight across at the scientist, "Get out of here!"

Rodney shook his head, peering through the dust at the light, "No! What about you!"

"I'll find my own way out!  Go! Now!"

"No!  Major, what if there isn't—"

"I'll be fine!  We have to get moving!  Keep your radio on!"

"But—"

"MOVE RODNEY!"

And without waiting to see if the stubborn scientist would do as he was told, Sheppard swung his light around and ducked down the pitch black hallway on his side.  McKay saw him leave by the movement of the light, standing up straighter in his corridor.

"Major!  Wait, no! I won't just leave you down—"

His shout was cut short as a massive part of the wall collapsed into the room right in front of him, the force of it sending him flying backwards into the hallway. 

For a second, everything rang inside McKay's head, and he had to shake his head to get it to stop.  Rubbing at the back of his neck where he landed, grimacing at the ache in his abused left knee, he gritted his teeth and pushed to his feet, staring with wonder behind him.  The chamber was completely blocked off now, the doorway just a memory.

"No," he whispered.  Around him, the ancient stone walls continued to shake, and he looked up as cracks spidered across the ceiling.  Self-preservation finally clicked in, and he turned, moving as best he could down the narrow corridor.  The sconces lighting his way were going out one by one, before he could even reach them, as the force of the quakes grew.  "Damn it," he muttered, fumbling for his own P90 and turning the flashlight on.  As he stumbled, trying not to fall as the ground seemed like jelly beneath his feet, he hit his radio.

"Major?  Major are you still there? Please answer!"

A pause, then, "What?"

Relief flooded through the scientist, "Are you okay?"

"I…crap!"

McKay grimaced as the sounds of rocks falling echoed eerily over the radio, passing several pitch dark openings as he moved as quickly as his knee allowed up the rising corridor towards the next level above.  He could see the stairs up ahead, barely lit by the fires in the chamber above.

"Major!"

"I…" Sheppard coughed, "I'm fine.  Just have to take…a different route.  Keep moving McKay!"

McKay's expressive face showed his worry and fear as he considered what he could do to get to the Major if the other man got trapped down here.  There was no question in his mind that they would both get out of here.  He just had to find a way.  As he limped, he tried to map out the temple in his mind, trying to imagine which way Sheppard might be heading….

He got so lost in the idea, that he didn't even notice the raised stone until he tripped over it, landing hard on his hurt knee.  A gasp of pain burst from his lips, then one of fear as the walls in front of him suddenly shook with terrifying power.  Falling back onto his butt, he crabbed backwards as rocks tumbled down in front of him where, had he not tripped, he would have been standing.

"Help!" he shouted, throwing his arms over his head and pulling himself into a fetal position.  Stones, pebbles and dust showered down on top of him, and a few of the larger stones bruised his legs and arms.  After a moment, it slowed, and he managed to look out at the dust filled world in the light of his flashlight.  Pushing backwards, he crawled out from beneath the rubble and somehow got to his feet. 

And found himself staring at another wall of fallen rocks.

"McKay!" Sheppard's shout over the radio was panicked, and McKay realized he hadn't turned it off.  The Major had heard his cry.  "McKay!  What happened?  Answer me!"

"Fine…fine," McKay stammered, still not really sure it was true.  "The, uh, the way out…it's blocked."

There was no response, then, calmly, "It's okay.  There are other doors.  Try to find another way out."

McKay nodded, then, realizing that the major wouldn't be able to see that, emitted a shaky, "right."  Gathering the last shreds of his survival instincts around him, he limped back down into the darkness, for the first side corridor he could find.

_____________________________________

Sheppard frowned, wishing he could see Rodney to make sure that the man's vocal tremor was caused by fear and not something worse.  Hefting his flashlight higher, he ignored the ache in his now painful left arm.  A large chunk of wall had managed to hit it at just the right point, and he was deadly sure it was broken.  It wasn't a bad break—just hairline, most likely—but enough to maintain a constant throb and preventing him from moving his fingers much. 

It made him think about Rodney's left leg.  He hadn't even asked if….

Another horrific rumble shook the floor, and the major fell against one wall, shaking his head as dust coated his hair.   Damn it!   Focus, Sheppard! You have to get yourself out of here right now.  You're no good to anyone if you get trapped down here!

He focused the light down another dark corridor to his right, trying to remember how many turns he'd taken so far.  He'd generally been trying to follow corridors in mirror image to those on the other side, but like McKay he'd been cut off twice and had a horrible suspicion he was, well, lost.

____________________________________________________

CHAPTER FIVE: UNEARTHLY MOVEMENTS

Coughing violently, Rodney nearly tripped over his feet again as the corridor he was in ended in a T junction.  Lifting up the flashlight, he pointed it to the right…then the left.  The walls still trembled, but they seemed to have lost some of the violence of before.  He hoped it was a sign that things were settling down again.  Of course, it wouldn't matter if he couldn't find a way out of this damn place.

Right?  Or Left?

"Okay, okay," he whispered, "you can work this out."

"What's the matter?" Sheppard's voice asked over the radio.  McKay almost forgot that it was still on. 

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just…trying…."  Rodney shook his head, facing the left hand corridor and trying to think about his location logically.  With a grunt of irritation, he pointed the light to his right again…and nearly dropped it.

The entire corridor was glowing green.  He could see clearly down for about ten feet, as the emerald mist floated. 

"This…this has a logical explanation," he squeaked, backing up a step.  "It must be the moss…the lichen…bioluminescence of some kind…."

"Rodney?"

As McKay watched, unable to tear his eyes from the mist, it seemed to thicken and coalesce…until a shadowy figure seemed to be watching him with black eyes.  It grew in size, and Rodney's breath caught as images of sharp teeth, monstrous features and claws formed before him.

With a yell, he turned and ran away in the opposite direction, ignoring his knee in his haste.  The abused limb reacted by collapsing beneath him, and he went sprawling, skidding along the slimy floor. 

His hands scrambled for the P90 and he flipped over, pointing the weapon behind him, ready to fire.

At nothing.  It was pitch black again.

"MCKAY!  What's going on!  MCKAY!"

The scientist just breathed, and forced his mind to rationalize. 

They must hallucinations, he reasoned, caused by what?

His eyes glanced at the walls, seeing the slimy moss and lichen. 

Of course, the fungus!  What if it wasn't just bioluminescent…what it if also contained hallucinogenic qualities? 

And if he was breathing it in and seeing these things…then so was Sheppard.

Turning himself over again, he got back to his feet and leaned against a wall.  He placed a shaky hand on the radio.

"Major," he gasped, trying to swallow some liquid to coat his dry throat.

"Are you okay?  What's going on? Where are you?"  The questions were rapid fire.

"I…saw something.  I think there may be something in the lichen…I think it might be making me see things…."

"See things?  What kinds of things?"

"I was going to ask you.  Have you seen anything…strange?"

There was a pause, then, slowly, "Um…like something…green?"

McKay's eyes popped open, "Yes!"

"Yeah…in fact…oh wow….Um…um….McKay….do you believe in ghosts?"

"No."

"I think I do.  Shit!"  And suddenly the connection shut off. 

"Major?" Rodney tapped the radio.  "Major!"

The scientist looked around him at the darkness, and shivers of something very icy ran down his spine. 

"Major," he said, hitting the radio again, "Major, it's not real!  It's the lichen or something.  Spores.  There are no such things as…." 

He trailed off as the corridor behind him started to glow again.

"Then again," he muttered, stumbling backwards away from it.  Turning, he hobbled down the corridor as fast as he could, taking the first branching he found.  It was into another room, this one pitch black.

The green mist followed, and he could swear he could still see those black eyes inside of it.

Gasping, McKay's bad leg caught the wrong edge of a stone, tripping him again. He landed hard on his left side, the slight "crunch" meaningless to him as he scrambled back to his feet.  He turned to see if it was still behind him…

Aw hell…it was bigger.

Swallowing harshly, he stumbled and limped over to the opposite side of the room, his flashlight barely keeping up with him, toward the dark outline of another door. 

For some reason, the mantra "It's all in your mind" was doing diddly squat in terms of making that mist go away…

____________________________________

Sheppard stopped when he realized the unearthly green light that had been chasing him was gone.  He had tried to ignore it, he really had.  Rodney's words about it being a product of something they were breathing in was undoubtedly correct, but the primal underlying fear had just been too commanding.  Especially when he could have sworn it had spoken to him.

Get Out

It was like something out of a horror movie….

Blowing out through his cheeks, he looked down at the P90 in his arms. Fat lot of good it was.  A really heavy flashlight and not much else. 

That's when he realized the walls had stopped shaking.

Gingerly, he pushed away from the stone and touched the wall behind him.  Nothing.  Not even a tremble.

"Thank God," he muttered. He tapped the radio, "McKay?  McKay, can you hear me?"

There was a long pause, and the major frowned.  He hit the radio again, "Rodney!  Respond!"

Still nothing. 

Crap.

Either he was finally out of range beneath this miserable pile of rocks, or something had happened.

Standing straighter, he examined the walls of the room he was in with his flashlight.  When he saw the sconce, he reached for his matches….

The matches he'd been holding in his hand right before the floor had opened up.

"Oh come ON!"

He stared up at the ceiling in exasperation, and felt the irritation drain away as he saw a growing patch of green light forming over his head.  Whispering touched his ears, and he shook his head.

"Right, okay, gotcha," he muttered, quickly hefting his flashlight up again to find another way out, "Moving on!"

_________________________________________

CHAPTER SIX: MEANWHILE….

The Wraith guard stopped, turning slowly in a circle, the faceless mask tilting as it appeared to listen to something only it could hear.  After a moment, it focused on an earthen embankment on which some flowers had been planted, the bright colored petals losing their beauty under the creature's cold gaze.

Behind the dirt wall, Ford gripped his machine gun tightly, his eyes watching Teyla.  She was crouched about a foot away, her eyes closed, using her ability to sense the Wraith to determine when and if the coast was clear.  Neither of them seemed to breathe, afraid to move a muscle, afraid even to think.

Eventually, the Wraith turned its head again…and walked on.

Teyla let out a pent up breath, turned and nodded at the lieutenant.  Ford risked a peek over the top of the embankment, then straightened, turning to follow Teyla away from their hiding spot and into the trees surrounding the village. 

The Athosian had sensed the Wraith's arrival, her early warning giving the few they were with some ability to get under cover.  They heard the shouts from the other villagers as close to a dozen Wraith appeared out of nowhere near the edge of the huts, stalking down the single dirt street, looking around like ugly tourists at a cattle market.  Teyla and Ford had been smuggled out the back way of one of the huts, then shown a back route back to the Stargate, both of which kindnesses were amazing in themselves, as the villagers were helping them despite being scared to death.

The dozen Wraith warriors were akin to an army to the poor villagers, whose only defense against them were their ineffectual bows and arrows and swords.  One villager did manage to drag his knife down one of the foot soldier's arms, but all it did was make the creature so furious that it broke the man's neck with a single twist.  Meanwhile, Darts screamed overhead, culling those unlucky enough to be in the path of their beams. 

"What are they looking for?" Ford hissed, thinking about the Wraith stalking the village as he followed Teyla deeper into the woods.  "Us?"

"No, I do not think so," she whispered back.  "I think they are checking on the health of their herd.  Making sure they are not sickly, and making sure that they have not become too technically advanced."

"Ugh," the young man spat, "Do we have to use the term 'herd?'"

She didn't answer, just turned away.  "I do not like it any more than you, Lieutenant."  Her tone was cold and a little defensive.

"I wish there was something we could do," he muttered.

"Alerting them to our presence would only bring more, Lieutenant, you know that.  We can only hope that this visit by the Wraith is not a full culling, and thus the only danger is from those few Wraith on the ground and the three or four Darts flying overhead."

"I know," he caught up with her, running only a single length behind, "Just wish…."

"We will find a way," Teyla stated firmly, "Someday.  Just not today."

Ford didn't answer, just followed her as they ran deeper into the forest along the thin track.  Finally, she paused in a darkly shadowed glen, to get her bearings and to allow them to catch their breaths.  Ford skidded to a halt next to her, frowning and looking around him, his P90 never loose in his hands.

"I do not think we are far from the Stargate, a couple of miles only," Teyla said, looking around at the trees.  "Which means we can not be that far from the hill."

"Yeah," Ford agreed, looking back at her.  Unconsciously, she lifted her hand to tap her radio, and he grabbed it.

"No, don't."

She frowned, confused, "But we must contact them."

He shook his head, "The Wraith might pick it up."

"Even if they are not looking for it?" she replied.

"You never know," he grimaced.  "Look, right now the Major and McKay are safer than us.  Best we just loop back to the Temple, try to catch them on their way out.  With luck, we'll be able to warn them before they come out and do something to cause the Wraith detect them."

Another Dart squealed over, and Teyla looked up.  "Is there no way we can warn them now?  They could walk right into them—that main entrance is easily seen from the ground below.  Perhaps the risk is worth it?"

"Look, my guess?  Sheppard forced McKay to agree that they would only look at one more room, and McKay would pick the one deepest underground from which he got readings, just to piss the Major off.  That should put them well outside the Dart's scanner range, and our radio range.  Even if we could reach them, we'd only be highlighting our position as well as theirs."  He shook his head, "I'm just hoping they haven't started back up yet."

Teyla turned her dark eyes to the young lieutenant, reading his face.  After a moment, she nodded.

"Okay."  Turning, she looked behind her in the direction of the village they had just left.  The Wraith were probably still checking them out.  With a sigh, her eyes examined the rest of the forest, then narrowed.  "I believe the way up to the Temple entrance is this way."

______________________________________

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE AXE

Rodney wasn't sure how many turns he'd taken, or how many hallways and rooms he stumbled through, all he knew was that it felt more and more like he was going in circles.  Plus, he was trying his best not to freak out about the fact that he hadn't heard from the major since he'd heard him ask that question about believing in ghosts. 

Not to mention that the damn fog seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

He was beginning to hate the color green. 

He looked behind him again for the mist as he hobbled into another new room, his breath an invisible cloud before his face.  He knew it was cold; he didn't need the reminder.  Still, it would be nice to see something other than black, stone and slime.

Sensing the size of the room he had managed to end up in, he decided it was time to see if the light system in this place still worked, despite the earthquake they'd caused.  Coughing again, he dug into his belt and pulled out the matches, shining his flashlight along the walls of this new chamber for a sconce.  It didn't take long.

Limping over, he struck it and tossed it in.

Fire burst out of the sconce, blinding him for a second, and, in moments, fires shot up out of sconce after sconce along the wall.

McKay's eyes widened as he took in the size of the room…and the shape.

It was oval…and big.  Circular patterns of different colored stones lined the floor, and more bas relief marbles adorned the walls.  But that wasn't all.

"Wow," he whispered, limping forward to one end of the room.  A raised dais stood floated at the far end, and on it a small alter like table. 

And hanging on the wall behind it…a large, doubled headed battle axe. 

The firelight flickered off the metal, and dark green feathers, still amazingly intact, hung from the hilt in adornment.  They moved as hot air from the sconces rippled past.   No lichen or moss or any other kind of growth covered it, or even came near the weapon.  The metal was not even rusty, which was amazing.  And the edges looked very sharp. 

Rodney couldn't help himself.  Pulling himself up onto the dais, he rounded the table and reached out to touch the handle.  For a moment, he felt a slight pressure against his hand, like a strong wind, but it faded as quickly as it had come.  By the time his fingers wrapped around the leather bound hilt, the back of his hand being tickled by the green feathers, he was sure he had imagined it. 

A moment later, he had lifted it off the wall, holding it in two hands, hefting it and surprised by the fact that it didn't feel as heavy as it looked.  It was at least four feet in length, with a spearheaded spike at one end, and the two metal heads were each at least nine inches deep—it should have weighed a ton.

"Now that's an axe," Sheppard's voice echoed through the hall.

McKay looked up, surprised…the grinned.

"Major!"

The major nodded, standing in a doorway on the opposite side from the one Rodney had entered by.  He was leaning in the frame, a pleased smile on his own face, "Hey, answer man.  Thanks for lighting the way."

_________________________________________

Sheppard grimaced, getting increasingly frustrated.  He had no idea where he was, how deep underground they were, or if he was even someplace different than he had been five minutes ago.

At least he hadn't seen that damn lichen light stuff for a while. 

He had decided Rodney was right (no big surprise there).  They were both seeing things.  The lichen or moss or whatever it was obviously bioluminescent, and the idea that it had been "chasing" him was utter nonsense.   Of course, it had occurred to him, as well, that had they been back on Earth…it would have been around October 31 by now…..

Which was a silly, ridiculous thought.  Earth's calendar had absolutely nothing to do with anything out here.

Still….Maybe that was what was throwing him off.

Swallowing, he looked around with his flashlight at yet another unremarkable corridor, trying to determine if he'd seen it before.

And that was when he smelled the gas.

He ducked instinctively, his first reaction to cover up….

Then found himself smiling as the sconces on the right side of the wall burst into life.  He turned, watching as they continued to light down the hallway behind him, until they reached a corner at the bottom. 

"Yes!" he whispered, "Way to go McKay!"

With a lighter step, he moved quickly in the direction that the lights had come from, moving faster when he saw a doorway ahead of him that looked like it opened into a largish room.

The green fog was completely forgotten as he hit the threshold…and saw McKay standing on a dais at the far end, lifting a large, double headed axe down from the wall.  As the doctor turned around, hefting it in his hands, Sheppard almost laughed at the sight.

"Now," he said, unable to resist, "that's an axe!"

McKay's surprise, then grin at the sight of him, was all Sheppard needed to feel like things would be okay now.

_______________________________________

"Isn't it amazing?" McKay asked, limping down off the dais and heading towards the major.

"How come it's not covered in plant stuff?" Sheppard replied, letting the P90 down and allowing himself to cradle his arm for the first time, massaging the muscles and the throbbing wrist a little.  "The rest of the walls are covered in it, why not the dais and that thing?"

"I don't know," the scientist shrugged, holding it for the major to see more clearly.  "But I had no trouble taking it down, so there wasn't an obvious shield covering it.  Maybe the metal on this planet….oh God…."

Sheppard looked up from the axe to McKay's face, to find the scientist looking in terror over his shoulder.  Fumbling for his weapon again, Sheppard whipped around and backed up next to McKay.

The green cloud was thicker than ever before, and the firelight only seemed to accentuate it.

"There's real light here," the major hissed, pointing the machine gun at it, "how can we still see it?"

"I…."  McKay shook his head, "I don't know.  I don't know what it is.  But if we're both seeing it...."

"Then its not a hallucination," Sheppard finished.

Get out! Get OUT!  GET OUT!

"I think it wants us to leave," McKay stammered.

"You mean you heard that?"

"I wish I hadn't," came the tremulous reply.

"Then we're definitely not staying," Sheppard looked around, and his eyes saw another doorway leading off from near the dais.  "Over there."

McKay was already off and moving, still holding onto the axe.  Sheppard didn't notice the tight grip the scientist had on it until they were almost to the door.

"Hey, leave that behind!  It'll only slow us down!"

"What?" McKay looked down, "Oh, I…but…."

"Leave it behind!"

"Okay, okay!"  McKay turned, intending to go put it back where he had found it.   And found himself slamming into the wall as the green vapor suddenly came to life and jetted towards him, growing as it did so.  "Help!"

"Just drop it and run!"

"Too late!….Christ!" McKay ducked down, staring up terrified at the creatures forming inside the cloud as they swirled around him.  Instead of one set of black eyes, he saw three…no four…more…and teeth…claws…."MAJOR!"

Sheppard let out a spray of bullets, straight through the mist. 

When they did nothing more than etch a few ugly holes in the wall on the far side, he grimaced.

"Well, it was worth a try," he muttered.

The Major backed up as the half of the green cloud turned to face him ("face him?" he thought, where did that idea come from?) and moved in his direction, "Awwww, nuts."  He hefted the machine gun again, backing up some more, but not willing to get too far from Rodney.  His bad arm throbbed unmercifully, and his head began to hurt as well as the mist swirled all around him, touching his face, the voices getting stronger and stronger inside his head….

McKay had curled into a ball, the axe gripped before him.  He wasn't holding it threateningly, but he did hold it before him, as if he could hide behind it.  He had shut his eyes, mumbling "please, please, please…" under his breath.

After a moment, he realized that nothing was happening.  The creatures inside the mist weren't doing anything to him.

Peeking out from under one eyelid, he looked for the cloud.  It was still there, but it was halfway across the room now.  From this distance, it seemed less threatening, and he risked opening both eyes to look out.  Turning his head, he looked towards where he had last seen the major.

"No," he whispered.

Sheppard was lying on the ground on his side about three feet away, out cold.

___________________________________

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE WRONG KIND OF SPIRITS

"Major!"  Using the axe like a cane, McKay got his feet under him and skidded over to the supine man, landing ungraciously next to him in a partial crouch.  He glanced over at the mist for only a moment, then pressed a hand to the side of Sheppard's neck.  Once certain the pulse felt strong and steady, he rested hand on his chest, then glared up again at the mist with the confidence of knowing Sheppard was breathing.  "Major," he hissed, eyes dropping again to Sheppard's slack features, "Major Sheppard, wake up.  We have to get out of here.  Come on."  He shook the man's arm, checking every few seconds to make sure the mist was not moving, "Come on!" he hissed loudly.  "Wake up!"

As if galvanized by his words, the mist shifted towards him again.

McKay grabbed the axe in two hands, pushing up on his right leg to get back to his feet, attempting a defensive stance.

Get Out!

"No," he spat back.

The black eyes were back, swirling and shifting, and so were the claws and teeth.  They were nearly on top of him again.  His grip tightened, his knuckles turning white with the strength of it.  Faces of monsters to horrific to describe formed in the green--some Wraith like, others like faces he had never seen before, others he knew he never wanted to see again.  If they were even faces.  And they were all focused on him.

His breathing accelerated as multiple ghastly, clawed arms reached towards him, the nails dripping with some kind of ichor.  The scientist shook his head, trying to focus on one set of black eyes.

"Get back," McKay shook the axe, and was rewarded by a seeming pause in the motion inside the mist.  Buoyed by that, he shook it again, "I said get back!  All of you, back off!" 

The black eyes narrowed, anger radiated off of the creatures inside.  They swirled faster, and started to move closer again.

"No!" he shouted at them, holding the axe before him, assuming that it was probably the only reason they hadn't done to him what they had done to Sheppard, "I said back off!  Don't you get it?" His eyes darted back and forth, from black eyes to black eyes, "I can't leave!  You screwed up!"  His anger finally overtook his fear, as it often did when he was pushed beyond his limits, "You wanted us to get out?  To leave?  Well look what you did!  He's unconscious, and I can't carry him!  My left leg is barely carrying me, and you think I could pick him up and put him across my shoulders right now?   Well, I can't, and I'm not leaving without him, so you screwed up!  Now neither of us can leave.  And it's all your fault!"

As he yelled, the creatures, to his amazement, actually backed off.  McKay didn't really notice at first, used to people backing away from him when he was in full rant mode, but when he finally finished, he found himself blinking a little in surprise at the fact.

He wasn't entirely sure if he was reading the things inside it correctly, but…he thought...they seemed surprised?  And maybe…uncertain?

He drew the axe back a little towards his chest, still watching as the mist drifted farther and farther away, losing its solidity as it did so.  Resting his weight back on his right leg, and using the axe as a crutch, he bent down next to Sheppard again, all the while watching as the green light gathered on the other side of the room and started to fade.

Eventually, it dissipated altogether.

Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, the scientist put the axe down, fell onto his right thigh and grabbed Sheppard's arms with both hands, shaking him.

"Major!  Major, wake up.  I think…I think I got them to back off, confused them or something, but I don't know for how long.  I need you to wake up so we can get out of here.  Come on!"  He shook the arms some more, but it was if the man was in a coma.  He never even flicked an eyelid.  McKay's jaw firmed, tension radiating from his features.  He looked down at his left knee, trying to determine just how much it could really take.  Could he carry Sheppard?

He'd prefer not to find out.

"Major!  You have to wake up!  Please!"

It was then he saw them walk up to him out of the corner of his eye, stopping just inside his field of vision. 

Feet.  Glowing green.

And belonging to a child.

He lifted his hands from the Major's arms, fingers curling and drawing back, and let himself look more directly at the feet. 

They were clad in plain light colored shoes, and the legs were clad in a darker cloth, all of which were just different shades of jade.

Slowly, still barely keeping his fear under control, he placed one hand on the axe again and allowed his eyes to drift up.

A ghostly child encompassed entirely by green mist watched him.  He was probably about thirteen years old, with his hands behind his back, his head tilted slightly in curiosity as he regarded McKay.  Dark colored, shaggy hair stuck out at odd angles from his head, and pale green eyes looked sadly and, strangely, a little timidly, at the scientist.

"Hello," the boy said.

McKay's eyebrows shot up.  "Uh,"  he looked around him for a moment, as if looking for another source of the voice, before returning his eyes to the boy, "hi?"

"We told you to leave," the boy said.  "You didn't."

"Oh," McKay blinked quickly, "That was you?"

"Yes."

"Didn't look like you."

The child frowned, "We wanted to scare you."

The scientist gave a choked laugh, "Really?  Why?"

"To make you leave."  The boy's eyes narrowed, "But you didn't leave."

"Ah, well, no," McKay shook his head, trying to move his legs in case he needed to spring back to his feet (not that springing to anything was really possible with his left knee, but he could dream), "We…that is, it was sort of difficult…what with the, uh, earthquakes and falling rocks and the near death experiences.  And you," he frowned again, still trying to reconcile the monsters in the green mist with this child—why were they using a child's image to talk to him? "You didn't make it easy.  We lost our way."

The frown deepened at that, and then the child looked pointedly down at the axe in the doctor's hand. "You have been permitted to wield the Great Axe."  Pale eyes lifted again, a strange look on the boy's face, "But it is not yours."

McKay had followed the boy's gaze to the axe, his hand still reflexively gripping the handle.  The leather felt soft against his palm, comfortable, as if it belonged there.

"The Great Axe?"

"It is the axe of Setanta.  He was the greatest warrior Highbern has ever known.  He killed hundreds of Wraith all by himself when they first came, driving them back because when they could not kill him and could not get past him.  With that axe in hand, he could not be defeated and he could not die.  And he would have lived forever had he not been tricked by a Wraith to throw away the axe in battle, leaving him vulnerable without its magic…."  The boy stopped, then lowered its head.  "We tried to stop you taking it down, but we couldn't.  Please do not take it.  It is ours.  It protects us.  Keeps us safe from the Wraith."  The eyes softened with fear, "Please don't take it." 

Rodney just stared at the boy, lips slightly parted.  When the child finished speaking, he looked down again at the axe. 

"I wasn't going to take it," he said finally.

The child relaxed visibly.  Rodney looked back at him, watching him out of the corner of his eye, then grimaced.  The axe was obviously the reason these creatures were talking to him—he wasn't about to give up that advantage yet.  Gritting his teeth, he lifted his head.

"But," the scientist's eyes narrowed, "I won't put it down until my friend and I get out of here either."

The child's eyes blinked, and looked again at the axe.  After a moment, he looked up again.

"But you will leave?"

"Yes, if I can wake him up," McKay pointed to the major by his knees, "We will leave.  But we also don't know where we are."  He grimaced, hoping he wasn't pushing too far by adding: "You will have to lead us out."

The child practically flinched, and he looked away, then behind him, as if listening to something.  McKay shifted a little on the ground to look past his shoulder, but couldn't see what ever it was the boy was seeing.  Finally, the child looked back, and only fear showed on his face now.  He shook his head.

"No.  We don't want to go up there.  Please don't make us go up there.  Please."

McKay tried to make sense of the strange tenor of the boy's words, to understand the change in dynamics from demanding to frightened, and his brow furrowed.  A sudden realization had come to him.  

The creatures in the mist weren't monsters just using a child's face…. 

"Who exactly is 'we?'" he asked softly, even though he already knew the answer.

"You know.  You opened the floor.  You saw."

McKay grimaced, "The children."  He shook his head, as if to rid it of the image, "The mist....You're the children from the pit."  Or at least their ghosts, he added to himself silently.

"Not a pit.  A cellar."  The boy looked away again, "A place to hide.  To keep us safe from the Wraith."

McKay shook his head,  "Kept you a little too safe," he stated morosely.

The boy looked back at him again, but had no answer for that.  McKay sighed.

"Okay," he said, "Just lead us near to the entrance.  You don't have to go the whole way."

The child looked down, then behind him again.  This time, when Rodney looked in that direction, he saw them.  The mist was back, as thick and as green as ever, but this time the faces in it were not terrifying.  They weren't trying to scare him any more by pretending to be something else.  They were just the children.  Dozens of them.  They stayed back, watching the boy.  He was easily the oldest among them, which apparently made him the leader.  Some sort of silent communication was going on, and only until the boy turned back around to face him did Rodney know that a decision had been reached.

"We will show you the way out," the boy said. "But we will not go the whole way."

McKay nodded, "Thank you."

"And you will leave the Great Axe near the entrance.  We will bring it back here."

McKay frowned, "Really?  You can lift it?  But you're…aren't you…." he trailed off, adding the word 'incorporeal?' silently to the question.  The boy shook his head.

"It is heavy, yes, but together, we can all carry it.  We can move things if we all work as one. Do you see how clean it is?  We are the ones who have kept the Great Axe sharp and free from the growths, so that if the Wraith come it will be ready to protect our people."

The scientist's eyes narrowed.  Well that answered one mystery.  He nodded, "Okay, If you say so."  He looked down again, touching the Major's sleeve, "But first, before we can go anywhere, I need to wake him up."  His eyes lifted to the child, "What did you do to him?"

"He was dangerous, shooting those things—he might have damaged the dais.  We put him to sleep."

Rodney's eyebrows lifted again, "Oh.  Well, can you wake him up?"

"He is probably already awake—or at least not fully unconscious anymore.  We have learned that, a little pressure here," he pointed to a spot on his neck, "and it will knock a person down, but it does not last long.  Maybe twenty seconds or so before they start to reawake."  A tiny smile, "Just enough to scare a friend."

"Ha,"  McKay looked at the Major, trying to see what the ghosts had done.  There was nothing visible on his neck.  "Well, nice job.  You sure scared the crap out of me."

"Not enough," the boy muttered.

"No, no, I just…react to things differently from most people."  McKay gave a  wry smile.  The boy frowned, not understanding the statement, but he did understand the concerned look on the scientist's face as he nudged the Major again.

"He is only asleep now.  Shake him enough, and he will wake."  The child was quietly certain, and McKay grimaced.  Taking hold of Sheppard's arms again, the scientist gave him a hard shake.

"Major," he hissed, looking for signs of life on the man's face.  "Major."

Sheppard's brow furrowed, and McKay breathed in relief.  Not that he didn't trust the ghost children but…what was he saying?  Of course he didn't trust the ghost children.  A slight groan emitted from the major's lips.

"Major, wake up," McKay smiled some more, "Come on now.  No sleeping on the job."

"Nnnnn," Sheppard's lips twitched, and one hand lifted to bat ineffectually at McKay, "Tell me…you're blond, buxom and didn't just drug me for my wallet."

McKay arched an eyebrow, then chuckled, "No.  Sorry.  You probably still have your wallet though.  Not that your credit cards will be of much use in the Pegasus Galaxy.  Or your money…or your driver's license…or your pilot's license…or really anything.  Maybe you could use a card to unlock a door, but—"

"Mmmm," Sheppard tried to roll over on his side.  McKay grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"No, no, wakey wakey, Major.  I need to get us out of here before the little green children do anything rash."

Finally, the major cracked an eyelid, and the look of bafflement that crossed his face was clear.  The hazel eyes opened more, obviously trying to focus.

"McKay?"

"Yeah.  Can you get up?"

Sheppard's eyes rolled around in his skull for a moment, then settled, opening up fully.  He blinked slowly out at the room, focusing first on McKay, then on the room, and finally on the ghost.  He stared at the child for a second, then looked back at the scientist.

"What the hell," he cleared his throat, "was I drinking last night?"

McKay grinned, "Nothing.  The…uh…the children did it."

Sheppard blinked some more at that statement, and turned his head back to the child.

"There's a kid here, McKay.  He's green."

"He's one of the children."

Sheppard blinked again, still looking at the boy, "What?"

"Remember the green fog?  It's the ghosts of the children from the pit."

"I'm a spirit," the child corrected, as if it made a difference, "not a ghost."

McKay looked at the boy, then back at Sheppard, "My mistake.  The spirits of the children from the pit."

"And it's not a pit.  It's a cellar."

McKay just sighed, not bothering this time.  He watched as Sheppard frowned at the boy, and the child imitated the look.  Not sure he liked that, the major rolled his head back to look up at McKay.

"That's a spirit?"

"Yeah."

"And the splitting headache I have…it's not alcohol related?"

"No.  Sorry."

"What about the queasiness?"

McKay arched an eyebrow, "I don't know.  What did you have for lunch?"

Sheppard snorted, a half hearted smile on his face, then he groaned again, hands on his head.  The motion instantly caused him to hiss, grabbing at one of his arms.  For the first time, McKay noticed the it looked swollen and red—was it broken?  The major's eyes opened, and there was true clarity in them for the first time.

"Oh," he muttered, looking around the room with coherence, "Right.  One more room."

"Major," Rodney's expression darkened again, catching the irritation on the faces of the children getting impatient with them, "I hate to rush you, but we should really be going."  As if to emphasize the point, he lifted the battleaxe and, using it as a crutch, pulled himself up onto his feet, his left knee screaming in agony the whole time.

"Going where?" Sheppard croaked, watching the scientist's face contort in response to his standing up.  "I remember where we are now," he swallowed something, the taste obviously not to his liking, "And aren't we lost?  Being chased by some kind of horrific green…thing?"

"Um," McKay's expressive face calmed as he finally stood straight, "yes and yes, but the children will lead us out."

"The ghost children, you mean."

McKay saw the boy open his mouth again to correct Sheppard, but answered first, "Yeah."

Sheppard's forehead creased as he stared hard at the scientist now staring down at him.  Finally, he stated, "I don't really believe in ghosts or spirits, McKay."  He sounded like he meant it, despite the obvious facts to the contrary.

"Neither do I, Major.  But they seem to believe in themselves, and who am I to question?"

Sheppard stared at Rodney, searching his face for answers.  He apparently agreed with whatever he saw, because he held out his good arm.

"All right.  Help me up."

______________________________________

CHAPTER NINE: BACKWAYS AND BYWAYS

Ford motioned Teyla down, and she instantly complied, kneeling down next to a tree, watching as the lieutenant scoped out the clearing ahead of them.  He turned, holding up a couple of fingers, demonstrating two Wraith ahead, and she nodded.

It was the second time they'd almost walked into the monsters.  With a grimace, she looked behind her, searching another way around. 

Ford backed up, staying low, and she indicated off to the right.

He nodded, and she got up smoothly, lightly disappearing in that direction.  A moment later, he followed.

Eventually, they hit another rough path in the woods, and Teyla stopped, peering in both directions down the obviously worn route.  Dancing across it, she moved deeper into the trees, keeping her feet to the mossier ground and rocks, attempting to keep the footfalls as quiet as possible.  Ford imitated her, but both were somewhat hampered by the heavy combat boots.

When they reached another clearing, Teyla stopped, staring up at the sky above, peering at the single sun to determine distance and location. 

She sighed, turning to look at Ford.

"It's almost as if they are looking for us," he whispered darkly.  She nodded.  It did seem that way now.  The Wraith really had no other reason to be around every corner, unless they were trying to stop someone from getting to the stargate, and the villagers would have no reason to try and escape through it now.

"Think someone gave us up?" Ford asked morosely, "Trying to buy their lives?"

"I hate to think so," she replied, equally as dark, "but we are strangers, and the Wraith…are what they are."

"Yeah," Ford sighed, leaning his back against a roughly fir-like tree.  He reached up, grabbing a tuft of pine needles, then let it go, watching the flexible branch bobble for a second.  Teyla was looking at the ground.  Mentally, both were trying to figure out their next step.

A noise to the left instantly put guns in both their hands, and Teyla quickly faded from sight as Ford knelt down behind his tree, using it as cover.

Seconds ticked by, and Ford forced himself to breathe slowly, with the wind.  The sound of feet trying to walk silently through the woods was more obvious now.

Ford's eyes narrowed, as the figures came into sight.  Two of the villagers—a man and a woman who had helped them escape.  She was tall, with insane blond hair and dark green eyes, both of which made her seem a little wild.  He was even taller, with a square blocked chin covered in copper colored stubble and reddish hair, streaked lightly with silver.  Both moved with confidence.

The woman walked further into the clearing, her eyes on the ground.  Not far from the place where the lieutenant was hidden, she stopped and knelt, her fingers touching the mossy earth, near the edge of a boot heel mark.  She watched as its wetness started to dry out.

"They were here," she told the man with her, "recently."

"Then they are still free," the man sighed, "thank Adrah.  But we must find them, before the Wraith do.  They can not be far off."

"I still can not believe Ayf did this," the woman muttered.

"She was worried for her babes, Scathach."

"I know, but it was still wrong.  Those people brought hope, Conor; surely she saw that?  Maybe not right now, but…." She trailed off, shaking her head again.  "I just pray we are not too late to help them—"

"You're not too late," Ford said, standing up and showing himself.  Conor instantly lifted his crossbow, while Scathach touched her hand to the knife at her thigh.  Seeing him, though, both dropped their weapons, but Ford simply pointed the P90 more at their legs than their heads.

"We came to warn you," Conor said, twisting the crossbow back behind his back by its long strap.

"Yeah," Ford nodded, "I gathered that."

Scathach shook her head, "My sister Ayf told the Wraith you were here, and that there are also two in the Temple.  They will be exploring the Temple's main entrance and the Gate.  Luckily for you," she sighed, "the Wraith ships had already returned through the Stargate before they got to her, along with…a number of our people and some of the guards."  Her eyes closed, forcing the tremble out of her voice that had crept in, then opened them again, her jaw more firmly set, "But the remaining Wraith on foot are still out looking for you and your friends."

Ford grimaced, "How many Wraith are left?"

"I think," she shrugged, "about eight?"

The lieutenant looked down.  Eight Wraith soldiers—that wasn't good. Too many just for the four Atlanteans, even if they did get to McKay and Sheppard first. 

"Okay," he sighed, looking up, a grimace on his face, "How can you help us?"

Conor nodded, "The Temple has several entrances.  Perhaps we can reach your friends first.  Then…I don't know how to get you through the Gate.  Perhaps you can get around them?" 

"We'll find a way," Teyla said, materializing behind them.  Both of the villagers jumped, Scathach's knife in her hand even as the Athosian woman smiled at them.  Conor rested a hand on his wife's shoulder, and she managed to smile back at Teyla as she put the knife away.  Teyla nodded at them, then looked at Ford.  "No one follows them; they are alone.  I believe them to be true."

The two villagers both raised their eyebrows at each other, then looked over at Ford.

The lieutenant tilted his head, "Okay then," he said to them, "lead the way."

___________________________________

CHAPTER TEN: THE WAY OUT

Sheppard felt absolutely wretched, stumbling on the top step as they cleared their second set of stairs leading upwards.  The walls moved, not because they still felt aftershocks (though the occasional tremble still occurred), but because every time he focused on a section of wall, his eyes would shift away—meaning he had the spins.  It was if he was coming down off a particularly nasty acid trip, and he didn’t have the "up" time to have made it worthwhile.  He felt hungover, sick, his right wrist was throbbing unmercifully, and, to his mind, everything he did, even walking, felt like it was taking too much energy.  The whole world felt exaggerated, and he really just wanted to lie down and sleep it off. 

Of course, trekking through seemingly endless black, wet, and cold hallways (the children had asked they not light any more fires, and had put all the ones Rodney had lit out) while following a luminescent thirteen year old boy and being dogged by a whole troop of jade colored children did not really help his perspective.

He turned, glancing behind him at McKay, and frowned some more.

The scientist’s limp was worse, and he looked sickly in the green luminescent light being shed by the ghosts.  The blood that had dribbled down his calf had dried to a nasty black, and the skin around the knee was already turning ugly colors, the edges of which Sheppard could see easily beneath the "wrap" McKay had made with his ripped trouser leg. 

He also noted the desperate grip McKay had on the axe, which he was still using like a cane.  The fingers were tightly wrapped around the section of wood just below the spear point and above the axe heads.  It was just tall enough to work for the purpose McKay was using it for, though Sheppard would have thought it too unwieldy and heavy.  Truth was, he was amazed the thing hadn’t sliced open the scientist’s hip by now though.  Those edges looked damned sharp.  He still wished McKay hadn’t taken it, but he just didn’t feel up to bringing it up right now, especially since it was obviously helping to keep him moving.

He also still wondered how it was possible that the weapon was so perfectly preserved.  The idea disturbed him.

Then again, he was following a ghost.  Talk about disturbing.

Though, to be honest, right now it was the quiet that bothered him more than anything.  The children made no noise, and though McKay breathed heavily which each step of his left foot, he hadn't said a word since the oval room.  Basically, the only sounds he heard were the shuffling of his and McKay's feet, the clank of the axe handle on the ground, the occasional aftershock rumble and the omnipresent "plink…plink…plink" of water dripping everywhere. 

The silence was really beginning to get to him.  McKay had a habit of running off at the mouth, but only when people asked him questions, and no one had asked him one in a while.  He himself was not what he’d consider a big talker, but he liked company, and company meant some sort of conversation.  So….

"What’s your name?" he asked, stepping up close to the boy leading them.

The child slowed, and Sheppard could see some surprise on his face at the question.  Eventually, he shrugged, presumably to himself, and glanced sideways at the major.

"Conla."

"I’m…."

"We know who you are," the boy cut him off.  "You are Major Sheppard and he is McKay Rodney."

"Rodney McKay," Sheppard corrected with a smile.

"Doctor Rodney McKay," Rodney muttered unconsciously.

"And you know this because you were listening to us talk to each other, right?" Sheppard asked the boy.

"Yes."

"Clever," the major pursed his lips, "So…Conla…how did you kids end up down here, anyway?"

McKay looked up for the first time, his eyes bright, surprised at the audacity of the question.  He was even more surprised when Conla simply shrugged again and answered.

"The Wraith were coming. It was coming time for the Culling.  Our families thought Adrah's Temple could hide us.  The pool room was so far underground and so well hidden, the Wraith would never find us, they said."

"And they didn’t!" another young voice called.  Both McKay and Sheppard looked behind them, to see a dark-haired girl who looked to be about ten smiling up at McKay.  The scientist just favored her with a grimace back--she didn’t notice…In fact, she almost looked…enamored?  Sheppard pursed his lips to his smirk at McKay's nonplussed expression when the scientist met his gaze.

"No, that’s right, Brigid, they didn’t," Conla agreed, looking back again at Sheppard.  "They have never found us."

"And, uh," McKay couldn’t resist getting into the conversation, "How long ago was it that they hid you exactly"

Conla shrugged, "A long time.  Down here we can not tell the seasons as they pass, but it has felt like many seasons."

"I see.  And, out of curiosity," McKay was running a theory now, "was anyone sick?  In your villages I mean?"

Sheppard frowned at him, confused by the question.  He was even more confused when Conla nodded.

"Yes.   There was a sickness—it touched every one of the villages.  But it was not a bad sickness."

"My momma died," one boy muttered somewhere. "I thought it was a bad sickness."

"But it had run its course," Conla countered.  "I remember the healers telling us that.  We had nothing more to fear from it."  He looked at McKay, his eyes narrowing, "Why?"

"Just a thought." McKay was looking at Sheppard, "I wonder if, when the Wraith came, the parents used the sickness to explain the absence of any children…."

Conla shrugged to say he didn’t know, not realizing the question wasn't really aimed at him, but at the major.  Sheppard’s eyebrows rose in reply, catching on to McKay’s train of thought.

It would explain why no one came back for the children, McKay was telling him.  The Wraith thought of the people on the various planets like herd animals.  If one planet was sick, the Wraith might prefer to wipe out that population rather than risk that population spreading the disease through the Stargates, just as farmers back on earth were forced to destroy a whole herd of cattle if even just one of them came down with Foot & Mouth Disease or Mad Cow.  The villagers on the planet now may not even be related to these children….

McKay’s eyes fell, seeing acknowledgement and a little sadness in the major’s eyes at his guess.   

Sheppard cleared his throat, "Anyway…so," he looked to change the subject, "why do you want to scare people away from this place?"

Conla frowned, "Because people will bring the Wraith, show them where we are.  The monsters will follow the people who come down here, and, even if they are not looking for us, the Wraith might find us…and try to take our life force.  Our families put us down here to keep us safe.  We have tried to stay hidden.  So we scare people away."

"Do a darn good job too," McKay mumbled, the words like acid on his tongue.

"Your life force?" Sheppard frowned.  "But how can the Wraith hurt you?  You’re de--"

"Major!" McKay snapped the name out like a whip.

"What?" Sheppard hit back, just as quick.  He turned to look at the scientist, saw the warning in his eyes, and grimaced.  "What’s the matter?"

Rodney just lifted both eyebrows, but didn’t reply.  Sheppard’s own eyes narrowed.

"You mean they don’t know?"

"Of course they don't!  Why else would they still be here?  And I’m not going to tell them, and if I were you, I wouldn't either."

Conla was looking with confusion at the two adults, seeing the test of wills between them.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, they’re helping us get out of here."

"Oh, of all the selfish…."

"Second of all, they’re not exactly your typical…incorporeal beings.  They can move and touch things, Major.  They incapacitated you, if you don’t recall, and they’ve kept this axe here sharp.  Do you want to tell something that can do that something they don’t want to hear?"

Sheppard looked down at the weapon, "they kept that sharp?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

"Still…."

"Plus, did I mention they’re leading us out of here?"

Sheppard glanced back at him, "Yes, you did," he stated darkly.

McKay just gave a small, humorless smile.

The major sighed, turning around…and found Conla had stopped.  The boy was facing him, his arms crossed over his thin chest.  A handful more of the children were also behind him, having materialized without them realizing, all with dark expressions on their faces. 

Whoops.

McKay twisted, hopping a little on his right leg, seeing that the children behind had also gotten closer to him, and he lifted the axe to hold it in both hands.  The girl that had spoken earlier was practically attached to his hip--her expression, oddly, one of concern.  She had taken hold of his sleeve—and the fact that she could do that still sent chills down his spine.

"We’re not stupid, you know," she whispered up at the scientist.  He just blinked at the gravity of her tone.  "We may not know as much as you, but we’re not stupid or deaf.  You shouldn’t treat us as such."

The other children behind her also looked afraid and angry.

"What is it we don’t know, Major Sheppard?" Conla asked Sheppard, his voice echoing slightly in the hall.

Sheppard tried to look innocent, "What?"

"What don't you want to tell us?"  The boy lifted his chin. "Is it about our families?"

"Oh…well…," Sheppard sighed, "Okay, see, here's the thing—"

"Major," McKay’s tone warned, his eyes flashing to the major.  "Don’t."

Sheppard frowned, then shook his head.  "They need to be told, McKay."

McKay stared at him for a moment longer, then lowered his eyes, conceding the point.  "Fine, then I’m sitting down first, because my leg's killing me," and with that declaration, the scientist fell against the wall to his right and literally slid down, stretching his left leg out as he did so to relieve the weight he had on it.  As soon as he was down, his right leg bent beneath him, he waved a hand up to the major, "Go on then. Dig our graves."

Sheppard snorted, then looked back at Conla.

"Conla, look, this may be hard to accept, but the Wraith can’t hurt you any longer because…." he frowned, trying to think of the best way to put it…and ended up deciding on the Teyla approach—straight and to the point. "Well, because you’re dead.  All of you."

Conla stared at him, not blinking, obviously surprised, "What?"  It was clearly not what he had been expecting.

"You're dead.  It's probably been hundreds of years since you were hidden down here, if not longer.  No one was able to come for you.  You're all dead."

"No," Conla said, twisting his face into a scowl.  "We're not dead.  It's not possible."

"Yes, it is, Conla.  How do you think you can be the way you are," he indicated to the ghost’s appearance, "how you can imagine yourself to be monsters and scare people?  If you were alive, could you do that?"

"We may not be here in body," the boy challenged, "but these are our spirits! We have learned to separate our minds from our bodies, which are asleep in the pit, safe from the Wraith…."

"But not from time," Sheppard interrupted.  "There are only bones in that pit, Conla.  You can’t see that yourself, perhaps because you’ve never looked, or because you can’t see it, but your bodies are gone.  Maybe you did fall asleep down there, but you never woke up, and you never will.."

"Liar!  If we were dead…how could I talk to you?  How would I be able to be here at all?"

McKay snorted, and Sheppard gave him a look.  The scientist just shrugged.

"He’s got a point, Major."

Sheppard glared a second longer, then looked back at the indignant child, "Look, I don’t know that answer to that, but there is a word for what you are on our planet--ghosts.  Not that I necessarily believe in….I mean….what I am trying to say is…."

"We are not ghosts!"

"Then you are figments of my imagination," Sheppard snapped back, his head beating even more loudly know inside his aching skull, "or hallucinations brought on by the fungus coating these walls.  All I know is that the pit we found down there held nothing but ancient bones."

Conla continued to shake his head, "It’s not true. McKay sees us too!  How can we be figments of both of your imaginations?  Huh?  Answer that!"

"Well, maybe then McKay’s a figment of my imagination too, but…."  he was interrupted by a sharp laugh from the doctor by his feet, but he pressed on, "The fact is, you’re not alive.  The Wraith can’t harm you anymore."

"I don’t believe you," Conla asserted, then, waving a hand around to the rest of the green mist, "We don’t believe you!"

Sheppard sighed, "McKay, come on, back me up here."

"Oh, I think you’re doing just fine." The scientist had closed his eyes.  He didn’t want to see that girl staring at him with her large, dark colored eyes.

"McKay!’

"Fine, fine," the doctor lowered his head, pressing the axe closer to his chest, "The Major is telling the truth.  The pit held nothing but bones.  There is nothing more for you to fear, unlike us, and particularly me, who have everything to fear, as I am now certain that I’m going to end up wandering these dark halls forever, trapped like a rat in a maze, until I’m as incorporeal as all of you.  And, worse yet, with only the Major for company.  A fate worse than death, I assure you."

"Lovely," Sheppard muttered, "thanks."

"You’re both liars!" Conla challenged, floating up so he would be eye to eye with the major.  "You’re trying to trick us!"

"Trick you?" Sheppard shook his head, "into what?"

"You want to feed us to the Wraith!"

"Oh, come on," Sheppard frowned.  "That’s absurd!"

"Is it?  You're strangers!  What if you’re just trying to save yourselves!"

"Because we don’t do that!  We would never do that!"

"How are we supposed to know that?"

"McKay has been permitted to wield the Great Axe," Brigid said softly, still looking at McKay.  The scientist’s eyes opened slowly, to look up at her as she looked across at Conla.  "Would a liar be allowed that?"

"I don’t know," Conla huffed, crossing his arms, "Maybe.  The axe is really only a weapon--it could work for anyone for all we know.  There is no rule that it only be wielded by the good."

Her eyes blinked ever so slowly, clearly not understanding, "But I thought it was supposed to protect us?  If anyone can wield it, how can it protect us?"

Conla frowned, then shook his head, "Brigid, I don’t know, but it may not…."

"Does it really matter?" another boy cut him off, and Sheppard recognized him as the one who said his mother had died of the sickness.  "So they’re liars.  We know we’re not dead, Conla.  Let’s just finish showing them out of here."

"It matters," Conla hissed, staring now over at McKay, "Because we’re trusting him to return the Great Axe to us when he leaves.  If they are liars, how can we be sure he’ll do it?"

McKay bowed his head into his knees again at that, a tiny groan on his lips.  Sheppard arched an eyebrow down at him.

"McKay?" he asked, curious.

"I made them a deal," the scientist sighed, "they stop trying to hurt and scare us, and they show us the way out, and I return the axe."

"Ah."

"Yes, Ah."

Sheppard frowned then, his next question to ask why the ghosts didn’t just take the axe back themselves, but McKay preempted him, turning his head to stare hard at Conla.

"Look, Conrad…."

"Conla."

"…Conla, here’s the thing.  I will return your axe.  I made that promise.  But, whether you believe me or not, I’m not giving this axe back to you until we see daylight, and you can’t take it from me because you’re still not sure this thing isn’t magical and might actually belong in my hands.  So, seems to me we are at an impasse.  At this moment, you either trust me, or try to take the axe back now, it's up to you."  Stabbing the axe handle on to the floor, he used it and the wall behind him as a brace and got back to his feet with only a slight show of struggle.  Once standing, he took in a deep breath, gripped the Great Axe firmly in both hands, and focused on the boy now looking up at him, "Now," he asked, lifting his chin, "what’s it going to be?"

Green luminescent light flickered off the blade as Conla stared at the axe, his eyes betraying his still solid belief that the weapon was somehow enchanted.  After a moment, his brow furrowed and he looked around at the others.  Finally, he shook his head and turned cold eyes on McKay.

"All right.  But if you’re lying, and you don’t put the axe down when you reach the entrance," he pointed up at Sheppard, "We will kill Major Sheppard."

The Major’s eyebrows lifted, but McKay just nodded. 

"Okay, works for me," he said cheerily.  His false bravado deflated gratefully with the victory and he even smiled. 

"Okay, works for you?" Sheppard repeated tightly.  "Are you kidding?"

"I’m not going to take the axe, Major.  I will leave it behind," the scientist replied, rolling his eyes a little.

"Well, yeah, sure, I know that but…."

"So, no problem.  Now, shall we go?"

"But, what about…." Sheppard looked at Conla, then at the other children, but they were no longer looking at him.  Conla had already started walking away, while many of the others dematerialized, except for a handful at their backs…and Brigid who still stood right next to McKay, smiling up at him and fluttering her eyelashes.  McKay noticed, and swallowed convulsively.

"Can we move on now, Major?" McKay asked.

Sheppard arched an eyebrow at him, then sighed, "Fine."  Shaking his head, he turned and trudged down the hall after Conla. 

This time, the silence didn’t bother him as much.

________________________________________

CHAPTER ELEVEN: ENTRANCES AND EXITS

"There," Conor said, pointing up at a small white stone edifice, about the size of a large sewer drain, "That’s one of the entrances."

It was about a third of the way up, and on the opposite side of the hill from the gate.  It was Conor’s belief that this one would be the least visible from above and thus their best chance of getting in unnoticed.  Ford’s hope was that, once inside, their radios would reach the Major and McKay without setting off any alarms the Wraith might have to detect technology.

Teyla and Scathach bounded up the hill first, leaving the slower men behind, but pulled up short at the entrance.

"Oh no," Scathach hissed as soon as she saw the hallway leading inside.  "When did this happen?"

The entrance was completely blocked by fallen rocks.  Teyla put her hand against one of the stones, and was unnerved to find it still loose.  A tiny tremor wracked the ground, and she took a couple of quick steps back as the rockfall settled a little more.

"No moss," she whispered, just loud enough for the other woman to hear.  "This has not been this way long."

"What’s going on?" Ford asked, reaching their side.  He answered his own question when he saw the blocked entrance.  "Oh that’s not good."

"We have not been this way for months," Scathach said, shaking her head, her broom-like blond hair being attacked the breeze,, "but even so, this entrance has never been blocked before.  Something must have happened."

"I did feel the ground tremble a few times," Teyla said, glancing at Ford, "I simply assumed it was from Wraith fire."

"Could their blasts have been enough to do this?"  Ford asked.

"This Temple has been here for close to three thousand years, according to our lore, and perhaps longer, as it was built before we came.  All we really know is that it was built in honor of Adrah, the goddess," Conor informed him.  "The Wraith have never managed to cause damage inside the Temple before."  He looked up, eyes narrowing, "and I don’t believe anything they did this time could have done it either."

Ford and Teyla just looked at each other, but didn’t say anything, though they were both thinking it.

McKay and Sheppard.

"Is there another entrance?" Teyla asked.

"Three more, two higher, one the same height on the exact opposite side of the hill from this one.  That one is the closest one to the Stargate," Scathach replied.  "The higher ones are to the left and right."

Teyla sighed, "Will you take us to the next closest one?"

Conor just nodded, though his expression wasn’t pleased at the idea that the Temple had been harmed.  He and his wife were not fools.

____________________________________________

Sheppard was dragging, barely keeping his head up, though his queasiness had finally subsided.  Now he just felt incredibly tired.  Since the argument, no one had spoken again, but that was to be expected.  He had almost gotten used to it.

Which is why hearing McKay swear softly jarred him a little.

He turned, "What’s the matter?"

"My radio is broken," the scientist was fiddling with the loop over his ear, pulling it off to hanging limply over his shoulder.  "I didn’t notice that until now."

"Well that explains why you didn’t respond to me when we were separated earlier," the major noted.  "Why did you notice now?"

"Well, I thought I might try reaching Teyla and Ford.  We haven’t gone up any stairs lately, which makes me think we’re not headed back to the main entrance."

"You’re not," Conla spoke from his position in the lead, "that way is blocked.  The earthquakes brought down much stone, and although there are ways around the closed passages," he threw a glance at them over his shoulder, "this way out is quicker."

McKay tilted his head, "Meaning there are other entrances to this Temple?"

"There are five entrances altogether.  We are taking you to the one nearest the Ring."

"The Ring?" Sheppard arched an eyebrow, smiling a little at McKay behind him, "Think he means the…."

"Yes, probably," McKay replied. As he did, he tripped a little, the axe having caught a particularly thick piece of slime, and he came down hard on his left foot to compensate.

He stopped immediately as the leg nearly buckled, a hissed, "Damn it…ow…." escaping his lips.  Sheppard slowed, turning to check on him.  Green mist streamed around the doctor at the abrupt halt, but the man was oblivious.  He had lowered his head, hiding his expression, and moved to lean against the wall, all his weight on his right leg.  Transferring the axe to his other hand, he leaned over, pressing his free hand against his left thigh, just above the knee.  He lifted the leg slightly off the ground, taking the pressure off of it.

The major turned, whistling to Conla.  The boy had already stopped, though, alerted by the other children.

"How bad?" Sheppard asked McKay, knowing full well it was the man’s knee that had stopped him.

"Bad," McKay choked back, the words hissed through clenched teeth.  "I need to stop," he breathed out and in again, "just for a second."  He pinched his eyes shut, riding through the sharp aches spiraling up and down the leg. 

Sheppard nodded, and looked back at Conla

"How much farther?"

"Not far," the boy replied, looking with concern at the doctor. "A few hundred steps."

Little Brigid was by McKay’s side again, and she had knelt down, her fingers reaching for the damaged joint. 

"Don’t!" He snapped his eyes open, pulling the leg away from her hand as she touched some of the sticky blood on his shin.  The little girl looked a little startled by that, but drew her hand back.  He grimaced, not really having meant to yell, but she had startled him as well—her fingers were like ice.

"It’s bleeding," she said softly, looking at the dark liquid on her ghostly, green fingers, then looked up, "It hurts?"

"Yeah, well," he looked up at Sheppard, "small price to pay."

Brigid lifted her eyebrows at that, even as the Major offered a wry smile to McKay.  The doctor looked down at his leg again, avoiding the eye contact.

"You know, I forgot to thank you, didn’t I," Sheppard said softly, "for saving my life."

McKay snorted, "Yeah, you did."

"Thank you."

He shrugged, trying not to show how pleased that made him.  "You’re welcome," McKay’s smile grew despite himself, and he lifted his head again.  After a moment, his hand braced around the axe again, he pushed off the wall back to his feet, gingerly returning weight to his left leg.  He nodded at Sheppard when he felt stable again.

"All right.  Let’s go."

Sheppard fiddled with his own radio then, checking it.  "As soon as we get out, I’ll radio Ford.  Maybe we can get some sort of stretcher."

McKay just nodded, gamely limping after Sheppard as the Major started moving again.  Conla turned and, with his hands behind his back, continued to lead the way.

Brigid stood for a moment longer where they had stopped, looking at his blood still on the tips of her fingers.  After a moment, she dissolved into mist and faded, and the blood fell to the floor.

A moment later, she materialized by McKay’s side again, and she touched his sleeve.

"What?" he muttered.

"How old am I?" she asked softly.

"I don’t know," McKay replied, not really looking at her, "Ten?"

She nodded, looking up towards Conla, "I have been ten for a long time."

"I imagine so," the doctor said, without really thinking.

"I don’t remember dying," she added suddenly.

McKay slowed, finally turning his eyes to her, and, in front of them, Sheppard looked back.

"But I have not felt pain for a long time," she was looking at her hand again, though the blood was gone, "nor have I grown older."  She looked up at Conla, who was obviously listening, for he too had slowed.  "None of us have."

"I only remember falling asleep," one child said, obviously in tune with her thoughts. 

"And waking up like this," another added.

Conla shook his head, "Stop," he ordered them,  "It’s a trick, remember?  Don’t let them get to you!" 

"McKay is bleeding, Conla," Brigid replied, "because he is alive.  But I don’t feel like I have any blood in me anymore.  Why not?"

"Because we are spirits.  Our bodies are back in the pit, sleeping, waiting…." the boy had stopped, turning to face her and the other children.  Some rallied at his back, while others floated uncertainly behind hers.

"Waiting for what?" Brigid sniffed, her eyes softening.  "So many people have come and gone, Conla.  So many we have scared away.  So many that they do not come anymore.  But those that did--I didn’t recognize any of them.  No one from our villages, from our homes.  I don’t think our families are coming, Conla.  Too much time has passed.  And I still look ten years old.  You still look thirteen.  But it has been seasons and seasons and seasons…."

Conla grimaced, still shaking his head, "We’re not dead, Brigid."

"I’m going to go look, Conla," she said suddenly.  "I’m going to go see."

"No, wait!"

But she was already gone.  Much of the mist went with her.

Sheppard arched an eyebrow at McKay, but the scientist could only shrug.

Conla looked at the ground, then around at the foggy mist still hovering.  Finally, he looked up at the two men.

"Come on.  We’re almost there."

_________________________________________

They were following a well worn track, hiking up the side of the hill.  Scathach was in the lead, then Teyla, then Ford and finally Conor.

Above, the blue sky faded to white as clouds rolled in.  It smelled like rain.

"The Wraith don’t like rain," Conor said, looking up, "Perhaps this will encourage them to leave."

Ford just grunted, his eyes noting with some interest the occasional "support" beam of stone he saw embedded in the side of the hill.  It really was an amazing construct.  He wondered if the hill had been first or the Temple.

"The next entrance is just up ahead, around the corner," Conor said.  "We call it the back entrance, as it is the farthest from the main one atop the hill."

Scathach rounded the bend as he spoke, and cried out, diving to the side just as a stunner blast burst in the place where she had a second ago been standing.  She got behind a tree, and the other three also found cover, just as two Wraith guards rounded the corner.

Ford and Teyla were already up and firing, shattering the still air with machine gun fire.  Conor’s mouth dropped, meeting his wife’s gaze as the two Wraith guards shivered like puppets on a string…and finally fell to the ground.  Both Atlanteans came out from behind their covers, finishing the clips in their weapons, ensuring that the two creatures would not rise again.

When it was over, Conor emerged from behind the rock he had used, while Scathach scrambled up the hill a bit to join them.  When she reached the first dead guard, she knelt and looked at it for a few seconds.  Finally, she pulled out her knife and sank it up to its hilt in the creature’s exposed neck, her eyes bright.  It bucked a little, then settled, and, as she drew the knife back out, there was a cold sneer on her face.

"So," she said, her eyes narrowing, "I knew they could be killed, though I have never seen it happen before."  She looked up at Teyla, who was busy putting a new clip into her P90, "You do bring hope."

"It’s only a start," the Athosian said somberly, snapping the clip into place. "Just two.  There are many more, on many planets."

"But still a start," Scathach stood up to her full height, standing a head taller than Teyla, and looked over at her husband.  "We must get them and their friends to safety as soon as possible."

He nodded, "The back entrance is just…."

He stopped, as the echo of more machine gun fire from somewhere in the distance shattered the air.

Scathach looked at Conor, and he nodded.  She started to run down the track away from the back entrance, Conor on her heels.

"It’s coming from the direction of the entrance near the Ring," Conor yelled to Teyla and Ford behind them. "Follow us!"

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWELVE: FEAR AND FREEDOM

"There," Conla said, pointing towards the open doorway.  Gray light poured through the rectangular entranceway, seeming unnaturally bright after the darkness of the Temple, and the trees sloping down away from it outside looked almost unreal—like photo images. "You follow the track leading down to the left, it'll take you to the Ring."  The boy shrunk back well before any of the real light touched him, his fear obvious in his voice.  He seemed to become more translucent, as if too afraid even to maintain his form.

Sheppard took a step forward, breathing in a lungful of fresh air.  It had never tasted so sweet.

McKay leant against the wall again, to get the weight off his leg, but it seemed to hurt a little less at the prospect of finally leaving this place.

The Major turned to look at Conla, who was watching him with wide eyes.  He nodded, "Thank you."

Conla gave a brief nod, then turned to McKay.  "The axe?"

"Yes, yes," the doctor muttered, "of course."  He moved to lean it against the wall.

"Wait!" Brigid's shrill call echoed down the hallway, and the little girl herself appeared directly next to Conla.  The boy frowned at her shaking appearance.  More children burst onto the scene, filling every inch of space, until Conla was completely surrounded.

And not one of them made a sound.  Brigid just stared at Conla.  The boy backed up, hearing them in his mind as they all told him what they had seen in the pit.  None of them had ever looked.  Until now.

Conla shook his head, covering his ears with his hands, as if it was actual sound that was hurting him.

Sheppard frowned, when he realized the little girl was crying.  Tears streamed down her cheeks, and, when he looked closely, he saw tears on the faces of several other children as well.

Suddenly, Conla vanished.  Brigid lowered her head, still shaking.

After a couple of moments, she turned to look at McKay and Sheppard.

"How long has it been?" she asked them, looking first to Sheppard then McKay.  "Do you know?"

Sheppard shook his head.  McKay sighed, "Could be hundreds of years, Brigid."

"Hundreds," she breathed the word.  She looked down at the floor, then out towards the light.  A few moments later, she walked over to McKay, staring up at him with huge eyes. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing up at Sheppard then back at her.  The tears she shed disappeared into nothing as soon as they dropped off her face.  "You should go," she suggested softly.

Sheppard nodded, watching as McKay pushed himself off the wall and around the little girl.  He placed the axe against the wall, and Brigid turned her head towards it—her expression one of despair, as if the weapon had somehow betrayed her.

"I'm sorry," McKay said, his face scrunching up a little.  He didn't know what more he could say beyond that.  Brigid just nodded, still staring at the axe.

"Let's go," the major intoned, and McKay nodded, turning again to limp in his direction.  

"McKay," the little girl said, turning to him again.  He had reached the edge of the daylight spilling in from outside, the brightness just brushing his clothes.  When he glanced at her, he saw Conla standing next to her, his eyes on the ground, but she was watching him with an unwavering stare, a small smile on her still wet face.  "Thank you for that poem.  It was a nice poem.  I didn't understand it then, but I do now."

The scientist frowned, not remembering at first what she meant, and then it hit him--the poem he'd recited when they first saw the children's grave.

"I meant it," he told her, his voice soft.  "We won't forget you."

"Thank you."  Her smile grew fonder as he nodded.  A second later, he looked away, towards where the major was waiting about five feet from the entrance.  Sheppard's quiet smile was his only addition to the moment.  At McKay's look, he turned and took another step towards the entrance, his good hand reaching up to touch his radio.

That's when they heard the machine gunfire.

Immediately, both men were on alert, pulling up their own P90s into firing position.  Pressing themselves on both sides of the entrance, sliding down the walls towards the opening, they listened to the noise, trying to understand it. 

Both flinched in shock as a Wraith guard walked past the entrance, not six feet from their position inside the doorway, presumably headed in the direction of the shots.

McKay's eyes grew huge, staring at Sheppard.  The major's own were focused on the outside, and the scientist could tell he was using his hearing to determine what was out there.  His broken wrist was forgotten as he knelt and inched forward, trying to figure out exactly what was out there.

Quick as a snake, he poked his head out of the doorway, then popped back in.

McKay watched as the major held up two fingers to him and pointed off to the right.  The scientist nodded, then stuck a thumb to the left.  Sheppard shook his head. 

Just the two off to the right, in other words.  McKay nodded again.

Sheppard's arched his right eyebrow, lifted the P90 and set it to fire, his lips forming the words, "Ready?"

The doctor breathed, licked his lips, then nodded, setting his own weapon.

"On three," Sheppard mouthed.  He held up his left hand, gripped in a fist. 

One finger lifted up, then two, then….

The two men dived out of the doorway, rolling on their stomachs, and started firing at the backs of the two Wraith guards headed away from them.  The creatures didn't even know what hit them.  The Major leapt to his feet, jogging over and pumping the guard on his right with almost a full clip.  McKay struggled up on one knee, trying to regain his feet as Sheppard trained the last of his bullets into the second Wraith.

When he felt certain they were both dead, he let up, glancing over at McKay, who was still pushing himself to his feet.

"You okay?" he asked.  The doctor nodded, not lifting his head as struggled upright, hopping slightly on his right leg on the sloped hill.  Listening, they realized the machine gun fire in the distance had also stopped, though neither knew when that happened or what it meant.  Sheppard reached up to touch his radio to call out to Ford and Teyla, just as McKay caught a glimpse of something coming down the hill from his right.

"Look out!" the doctor yelled…just as the Wraith stun blast hit Sheppard in the side.  All McKay saw was the grimace on the major's face as he fell sideways, rolling down the hill, out cold for the second time this day. 

A third Wraith guard was trampling through the woods towards them, changing its stunner's aim now that the Major was down to point at the scientist.  But McKay was already firing up the hill at the creature, the P90's stream of bullets slowing the creature down.  It eventually had the effect of forcing the Wraith to drop the stunner and, finally, when it reached the place where the other two Wraith were dead, it flopped to the ground. 

McKay hopped over, planning on emptying its clip as he saw the creature trying to push itself up off the ground, still not even close to dead.

And that's when it jammed.

"No!" he yelled, fighting with the gun.  "Not now!"

"Here!" Brigid's voice yelled from the entrance.

McKay turned, having only a split second of warning as the Great Axe sailed towards him—the children had thrown it.  Without even thinking about how or why, he dropped the P90, caught the axe in two hands, spun, and slammed it down across the Wraith's neck.

Cutting its head off.

McKay staggered back, axe still in hand, and the bile rose in his throat at the realization of what he'd just done.  His eyes widened, staring at the blood on the axe, then back at the headless monster.

He couldn't believe he had just done that!  He could not have just done that!  The axe seemed to vibrate in his hands, as if alive.

"That has to be," he muttered to no one, "the most disgusting thing I have ever…."

"Look out!" another child's voice yelled.

McKay whipped around again, and lost his precarious balance, which was the only thing that saved him as the light of another stunner blast sailed over his head.  He slipped down the hillside on his right side, catching himself on a tree root, and got back up on his right leg, just as the Wraith guard appeared on the hill above him. 

It paused at the sight of the three dead Wraith, and the unconscious Sheppard, then moved on, chasing McKay around the trees as the scientist scrambled back up to the level track leading to the entrance, the Great Axe still in his hands.

The Wraith followed as best it could, but it was no more sure footed on the wet, leaf-covered ground than the injured scientist.  It slipped, and scrambled, and finally reached the solid ground again of the red earthen track running past the entrance.

McKay hopped backwards away from it, slouched slightly, holding up the axe before him like a shield.  Only one thought went through the doctor's mind as the Wraith guard lifted its stunner, aiming it in his direction: 

He was a dead man.

"No!" Conla's voice burst through the air, like a war cry.  

McKay and the monster both turned towards the entrance involuntarily, almost in slow motion, the Wraith already turning to point his weapon at whatever threat might be hidden inside the black doorway.

Green light streamed out of the entranceway like an explosive force, aiming straight for the Wraith, undeterred and unerring.  The children whipped around the creature's head and neck, winding around the stocky frame, a high pitched shriek emitted from several dozen throats filling the air. 

The Wraith dropped the stunner, raising its hands to bat at it as the fog thickened and coalesced around it, blanketing every part of the creature's upper body, and, for the first time, McKay heard a Wraith guard's voice.  It was like a roar, boiling out of the monster like a crashing wave, but it was nothing compared to the furious scream of the children, of a hundreds of years of captivity and fear being exorcised with one pure act of courage.

The children let go suddenly, blowing up away over the Wraith's head.

The monster looked up, then down….

Just in time to see McKay swinging the axe around towards its head, nothing but cold determination on the man's face, the metal a streaked line of white under the cloud filled sky.

The Wraith landed on its knees, then fell forward, lifeless.

Its head landed about ten feet away.

McKay hopped backwards, still moving with the momentum of the axe.  Finally coming to a stop, he turned to look at the Wraith's body, heaving huge breaths, his entire body trembling with the exertion.

"That was for their families," he spat at it, "and for them."

His eyes lifted towards the sky, to see the mist still swirling overhead, though the predominant green had faded.  He saw gold in there now, and red, and blue, and yellow and brown….

Faces of real children laughing and cheering, dancing and spinning.

Free.

"You were right," Conla said, appearing suddenly at McKay's side, staring up at him with light colored hazel eyes, his brown hair still sticking out in tufts from his head, the red flecks in it were highlighted by the daylight.  He was smiling, "We have nothing more to fear from the Wraith."

"We're free," Brigid giggled, standing on his other side, pushing back dark reddish hair from her freckled face, her chocolate brown eyes blinking happily up at the trees overhead.  "We can go home now."

McKay tried to smile, but was finding it difficult.  Everything was still buzzing, his senses still in high gear.  So, instead, he just nodded, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly, watching with bright eyes as both Brigid and Conla lifted up into the air to join the rest of the children.

"Goodbye," their voices said, as the mist swirled and rose, lifting higher and higher and farther from sight, until it blended in with the wind and sky.  "Thank you."

Gone.

"Goodbye." McKay swallowed, trying to bring wetness to his dry mouth and throat, his eyes still staring up at the sky in wonder.  A breeze tickled his hair, and the sounds of the woods trickled back into his conscious mind…including what sounded like movement through them.

Fear returned its grip on his reality, and he quickly looked around at the mess on the ground.  Sheppard was still completely unconscious, face down on the ground and partially down the hill, and four dead Wraith littered the area.

The scientist looked down at the axe in his hands.  It suddenly felt incredibly heavy. 

He couldn't carry them both, he realized, sorrow hitting his throat uncomfortably at the thought.

Shaking still, he heaved in another breath, aware that he really didn't have the time to think about this.  With a rushed limp, he reached the Temple entrance and, with a strong sense of regret, he hopped inside and rested the axe against the wall, just inside the shadows.  Hopefully, one of the villagers would find it and put it back where it belonged.

Turning, he limped back out of the Temple and moved as fast as he could over to the prone figure of Major Sheppard.

He just hoped to God he wasn't as heavy as he looked.

Turning the man over, he unclipped the major's P90 and traded it for his own jammed one, all the while keeping an eye out for more Wraith.  He couldn't determine if the sounds he heard were feet or animals or just sounds, but time was obviously not on his side.  With a speed he didn't even know he had, he changed the empty clip in the machine gun with a new one from his jacket, then positioned himself a little downhill from the major.  Picking him up by his vest, he somehow got the man upright…then over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

He slipped a little on the wet ground, his right leg taking so much of the increased weight it had started to tremble with a ferocity he had never felt before.  He willed it not to give way, knowing that his left knee was so damaged that he'd be lucky to get even halfway to the gate as it was.

Shaking off the thought, he turned and after making sure he had as good a grip as he could get on the major, somehow dragged himself back onto the track….and in the direction of the Stargate.

______________________________________

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:  ENDURANCE AND ESCAPE

Scathach and Teyla were eating up the ground, pelting along the track at what had to be a record breaking pace.  Conor and Ford followed behind, the lieutenant having a slightly harder time keeping up with all the body armor he wore.  He was also watching the trees around them with as careful an eye as he could, but it was difficult to focus on anything at the pace the women were setting. 

Scathach finally slowed, seeing the bodies first.  Teyla was only a little behind her, and she was quick to start scouting the surrounding area for danger, moving up the hill above the small entrance way.  Conor imitated the Athosian, his crossbow in his hands again as he skidded down the hill on the wet leaves in the opposite direction from Teyla, looking for suspicious movement.

Ford moved ahead, dashing to take point.  He leapt over the four Wraith, peering into the entranceway for only a moment, then headed a little ways down the track to determine if any more Wraith were headed their way from the direction of the Stargate.

He came to an abrupt halt when he nearly kicked the Wraith head on the ground by his feet.

Both eyebrows shot up, and he gritted his teeth at the clenching in his stomach at the sight.

"That's not something you see everyday," Scathach said wryly, reaching his side.  She smiled at Ford's obvious discomfort, then moved on, her skilled eyes now reading the marks on the ground. 

Teyla came back down the hill, nodding at Ford as he turned to inspect the bodies.  Nothing coming that she could see or sense.

The lieutenant walked carefully.  Spent shells littered the ground around the entrance, and bullet holes were obvious in all of the bodies but one.  Two were headless. 

"How did they take their heads off?" he asked, looking behind him at Teyla.  She shrugged, backing up to look inside the temple entrance again.  Moving a ways into the interior, she saw nothing but cold, slime covered stone.  With a sigh, she backed out and walked back to Ford's side.

"Can't believe they took down four Wraith by themselves," Ford admitted to her as she came up alongside.  She shrugged.

"The major is a great warrior," she said with absolute conviction.

"Sure, but," Ford smiled, "Four?  And one of them doesn't even have bullet wounds, how did—"

"One of them has an injured leg, his left," Scathach said from her position a little ways down the track, "And he is carrying the other one, probably over his right shoulder."  She looked back at Ford and Teyla, "And we are not far behind.  They are headed towards the Stargate, which is not far from here.  And, from the looks of it, they aren't moving fast."

Ford looked again at the bodies…four…plus the two they took down on the other side of the hill…there were at least two more out there somewhere…more if Scathach and Conor weren't accurate in their count. 

He hit his radio, "Major Sheppard.  Doctor McKay.  Do you read me?"

He waited a moment, his eyes focused on Teyla's.  She tapped her own radio.

"Major, this is Teyla.  Can you hear us?"

Ford grimaced as, again, nothing answered them but dead air.  He shook his head, hitting his radio once more. "Major, if you can hear us," he said, "there are at least two more Wraith out there, possibly more.  When you reach the Gate, find cover and wait for us.  We're right behind you."

Conor jumped up onto the track, nodded at them, then followed Scathach as she started running down the track towards the Stargate, with Teyla and Ford once more on their heels.

________________________________________

McKay swore lightly to himself as he debated putting Sheppard down to reach the major's radio.  He'd heard Ford and Teyla loud and clear…from the radio on the major's shoulder hanging behind his back.  If he'd been thinking clearly, he would have switched his busted transmitter with Sheppard's, but it hadn't even occurred to him when still near the entrance to try and contact the others…or that they would try to contact him.  He'd only been thinking about getting himself and the major out of there.

Truth was, he didn't think he could put the major down right now.  If he did, he would never get him back on his shoulder again, and stopping at all might cause his precarious left knee from moving any further at all.  As it was, it had a powerful wobble to it which made him wonder if his shin and thigh were even connected anymore.

Okay, focus…left Right…left Right…left Right…left Right….

Each step was an exercise in just how quickly he could transfer his weight off his left leg and still keep moving forward.  It was like a game: how far could he go before the knee gave out altogether?  Could he even make the Gate?  Could he even make it to that tree?  Just make it to that tree, and then we'll see.

He also needed to focus on his surroundings, on how far he had to go, on whether the Wraith were chasing him, on whether it was going to rain….It felt like rain.

There was a lightening of the air up ahead—the clearing around the Stargate?  Was he almost there? Please say he was almost there!

Ha…made it to the tree…now, make it to that little fir tree over there and win a bigger prize….

Wait…was that….behind the tree…something white….?

"Shit!" he swore, falling to the side, dropping the major in a heap a little ways away from him.

The wraith stunner blast burst against the tree behind him, followed quickly by another just feet from where McKay had fallen before he rolled.

He propped himself up on his elbows, the P90 in his hands, and started firing willy nilly into the trees at any white thing that moved.

He was rewarded as one Wraith guard clearly came into view, staggering from bullet wounds.  But it was still moving, the blaster aimed at him.  Blue light flared in McKay's direction, missing him by inches.

McKay just continued to fire, praying, hoping, begging….

The Wraith collapsed to its knees from the barrage…then flopped backwards onto his back.

The doctor bowed his head to the wet earth, sighing in relief. 

Lifting his head again, he blew the air out of his cheeks and worked on trying to stand.  Oddly, he couldn't get his legs to work.  His right shifted a little, but the left just wouldn't move.  His knee felt like it was on fire.

He twisted onto his side, trying to push himself up with just his arms, determined to get his legs to work properly.

And saw the other Wraith, lumbering towards him from another direction.  His jaw fell open—it couldn't be! It was like some cruel deity had a sack full of Wraith guards and was just shaking it over this damned planet—he could almost hear it's maniacal laughter.  Movement out of the corner of his eye had him turning his head back towards the first guard on the track in front of him.

It was sitting up, looking for its weapon.

No! No, no, no!

McKay fumbled for the machine gun, but knew in his heart he had run out of luck.  He couldn't take them both…not before one of them got him with….

BOOM!

The grenade exploded directly in front of the guard advancing from the side, sending it backwards onto its rear.

And suddenly, two more machine guns had joined the fight.

How that sound was like music to his ears! 

He looked behind him, and saw Teyla walking steadily in his direction down the track, her entire attention focused on the guard on the ground in front of him, her hair flying behind her with the wind as the P90 fired in her arms.  She seemed like something out of an ancient myth—unafraid and completely certain of victory, like Queen Boadicea facing down the Roman armies.  She passed by Rodney without looking at him.  Behind her, Ford was drilling bullets into the guard advancing from the side, the determination on his face unwavering.  The Wraith never stood a chance.

"Are you all right?" a woman with wild blond hair asked.  She seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, skidding to his side and staring him in the eye.  "Can you walk?"

McKay just blinked at her, "Uh…I…."

"I got this one," a man's voice said, and McKay twisted some more to look over his shoulder.  A red-haired man had pulled Major Sheppard to his feet, then up and over his shoulder. 

"Come on," the woman said, offering McKay her hand, "We're going to get you home.  No worries now.  Your friends'll take care of everything."

___________________________________________

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE QUESTION OF MADNESS

The dash to the Stargate was like a roller coaster, jerking and swaying, up and down, and his view of the world was as disjointed as an old movie reel.  He was propped up on the shoulder of this strange, tall woman, and she practically carried him the entire way there.  Next thing he knew, they were before the gate, Ford dialing home and the event horizon blossoming into life.  Teyla took him from the woman, getting her arm under his shoulder and saying something about coming back for the villagers, about telling them to hide in the Temple or as far from the Wraith as possible.  McKay mentioned the pit, tried to warn them about the earthquakes, but no one paid him any mind.  Ford was talking rapidly into his radio, taking Sheppard off of the other stranger's shoulder, muscling him into position over his back as Weir lowered the shield.

The two villagers backed away, raising a hand in farewell.

And then they were through the gate.

Then everything became a blur of color and sound, melting together like an impressionist painting.  He heard Beckett's voice and Weir's, but not what they were saying.  He thought he heard Sheppard's voice, but that didn't seem possible.  He heard Ford and Teyla arguing with someone…for something…and then he heard nothing but the rush of wind in his ears and silence.

__________________________________

Then came the dreams.

McKay dreamt of tunnels and corridors and dead ends, of running around a maze with no way out.  He dreamt of ghosts and children and his family.  He saw the graves in the pit, in the green grass on the hillside, in the room in his parent's house that his mother wouldn't let them touch.  He dreamt of axes and spears and stunners and machine guns.  He saw the charge of the French cavalry, their gold helmets flashing in the sun as they spurred them against the dark, ugly German tanks in World War I, the ultimate image of defeat in the face of a greater enemy.  He dreamt of green light, surrounding the Wraith, driving it to the ground.  He saw the flash of metal as the axe took its head…as he took its head.  He dreamt of laughter and voices and the full roar of the children's voices as they finally overcame their fear.  He saw Atlantis, sinking into the ocean and rising again.  He dreamt of darkness.  He dreamt of nothing.

And, like an unwelcome intrusion, a Scottish brogue would drift in and out of his hearing, in dribs and drabs….

"…withdrawal symptoms…."

"…drug in the system, like a hallucinogen.  Sent their emotions into high gear.  Whatever it was, they were both deeply under its…."

"…what I can, but it'll be a slow…."

"…something inside the Temple, my guess.  It's really quite fascinating, as the drug was…."

"…welcome back, Major! Yes, now, calm down.  You're all right…."

"…no, he's still not awake, Teyla, but he's on the verge.  I can see his eyes moving.  Come on, Rodney, you…."

"…wrenched, bruised, amazing it's not completely destroyed.  The infection was nasty, but we've pumped him full of antibiotics and…."

"…Samples from the Temple?  Wonderful.  The ones who fetched these should come see me, so I can make sure they weren't…."

"….No, I don't think so, lieutenant.  Either way, he'll not be walking on it for…."

"…convulsions, body doesn't want to…."

"…Tara!  Help me!  The Major's…."

"…Rodney, they're all worried about ya.  Why don't you open your eyes, just for a moment?  I know you're in there, I can see your heart rate…aww, no, Rodney, don't…."

"…brought them all here?  More people for me to tend to, I presume.  Highbernian?  How funny, sounds almost like the name for ancient…."

"…No, Major, he can't hear you. There's been no change, I'm afraid. The infection in his leg was pervasive and I think…."

"…aware it's not normal, Elizabeth.  But I'm hoping…."

"…Thank you Lieutenant, I'm sure it helped.  He just doesn't seem to…."

"…in the end.  There's no reason for it now.  Blood work's normal, he just needs to wake up…."

"…Rodney, come on, now.  There's nothing to be afraid of, just open your eyes, please…."

And then he did.

______________________________

"There y'are, finally," Carson breathed, looking at the confused eyes blinking up at him. "Thank heaven for that."  The medical doctor leaned over him, checking something, then leaned back and patted him on the shoulder.  "You're going to be all right now, Rodney.  Nothing to be afraid of.  Can you hear me okay?"

The self-proclaimed genius's brow furrowed, not exactly living up to his reputation as he tried to understand where he was and how, but he nodded.  Fear of something he couldn't explain coursed through him, though he didn't know why.  All he knew was that he didn't like it.  He heard the machines around him increase in speed and noise, and Carson patted his arm.

"Listen here, you're home," the doctor promised softly, fiddling with something else.  "Everyone's home and everyone's all right.  The major's just to your right there, and he's doing fine. You can see he's sleeping now."  McKay's eyes slid to the right, looking in that direction, just able to see the lump that had to be Sheppard on the next bed.  Carson smiled again when the eyes returned, "He's better n' you, thanks to that mess you made of your leg.  He said you got it saving his life though, so I suppose I can forgive you."  The doctor rested a hand on his shoulder, which was rippling with tension, and Beckett's face took on a serious expression.  "Rodney, listen, you're emotions are a little helter skelter right now, but it'll pass.  I can see you're scared, but you have to believe me now.  It's all right.  Everything's all right, do you understand?"

Rodney stared back at him, knowing that the wetness he felt in his eyes or the tremors running through him were not going to just go away.  Carson continued to pat his arm, talking, but his words were swirling away.  A single tear leaked out the side of his left eye, and he felt it leave a streak down the left side of his face, ending up on his ear, before falling off.  He blinked, willing it to stop.  Wishing it to stop. He closed his eyes, to hide. 

"Okay," Beckett sighed, as Rodney's eyes shut, "you rest.  But you're safe now.  You're safe."

"He going to be all right?" Sheppard croaked, coughing a little as he turned his head towards where Beckett stood over Rodney's bed.  The doctor sighed in response, then shrugged.

"I think so.  He's a bit jiggered," Beckett tapped his skull, "as you were, but we'll talk him back down to earth."

The Major smiled, "You mean, back down to Atlantis."

Carson smiled thinly, "Aye.  I suppose I do.  He'll probably open his eyes and wake more often.  He'll join back in with us when he's ready, when he can make sense of everything.  Just takes time."  And with a smile, Beckett took one more look at the machines, and then walked away.

Sheppard stay awake a while longer, watching McKay sleep. 

Jiggered….it was a good word.

_________________________________

"The Wraith burnt everything we left behind," a woman's voice was saying, "everything we ever had, destroyed."  Rodney didn't recognize the voice, though the brogue underlying it reminded him a little of Carson's.

"What about the Temple?"  Sheppard's voice asked.

"They appear to have left that alone.  Just as they left the bodies of those Wraith guards you killed to rot.  They seem to have no interest in the dead."  There was a coldness to her tone.  "Not that the Temple has any value in any event.  It tells the history of our ancestors, holds the ghosts of the people we used to be, but otherwise…."

"Speaking of the Wraith," that was Ford's voice, "how did you take down those four guards, sir?"

"I told you already, Ford, I don't know.  I have a vague recollection of taking down two of them, but McKay must have gotten the other two."

"Yeah, but, two of them were headless.  I mean, that's just…we saw no weapon that could do that.  No sword, no axe, nothing."

"Well, like I said, we never had anything like that.  Just our guns and a stick McKay found which he used as a cane."

"Not a stick," Rodney whispered, opening his eyes.

"Hey!" Ford sounded oddly ebullient, "He's awake!"

Rodney blinked a little, and found himself looking up at the grinning lieutenant, "Hey, Doctor McKay!  How are you feeling?"  The young man looked as bright and honest as always.  McKay couldn't resist a small smile in return.  He opened his mouth to answer, then started coughing. 

Next thing he knew, he felt the coolness of a glass being pressed to his bottom lip and someone had their hand behind his neck, lifting his head up.  Water dribbled down his throat, and it was wonderful. 

Ford took the glass away, smiling some more.  "Better?"

"Yes," he said softly, "Thank you."

"Can't believe I'd be happy to hear your voice," Sheppard said cheekily, from somewhere off to his right.  "And I think I owe you some thanks again."  McKay tilted his head in that direction, and found Major Sheppard sitting cross-legged on the bed next to him.  He had a deck of cards in his hand and was shuffling them, but he was grinning at Rodney.  Sitting next to him was a woman with the most incredible head of blond hair he'd ever seen.  It crowned her head like a lion's mane, or maybe a witch's broom, though clips suggested she had tried to pin it back.  Green eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she patted Sheppard's knee once before jumping off the cot.

"Hi," she greeted, "Remember me, do ya?  I lugged you back to the Gate on my home world."

He shook his head, "No…sorry."

"S'all right," she grinned, "didn't much expect ya to.  I'm Scathach."

"Doctor McKay," he gave a polite smile, then looked back at Sheppard.  "What happened?"

"Ah, well, funny thing," the major rubbed at his head, "you remember the Temple?"

McKay nodded, "Unfortunately."

"Right, well, remember how you thought the slimy stuff on the walls might be causing us to see things?"

McKay frowned, "Yeah."

"Well, you were right," Beckett's voice said, from the other side of McKay's bed.  The scientist tilted his head in the other direction, to find Beckett standing directly over him.  "Took you on a bit of a magic carpet ride, if you get my meaning."

McKay frowned, "What?"

"You and the major were suffering from being drugged, essentially, by a very powerful hallucinogen."  He made a show of staring at a monitor next to Rodney's bedside, "I think I've managed to get it out of both of your systems, but you had the joy of not only breathing it in like the major, but also getting it in your bloodstream due to the damage to your leg."  He frowned at something, clicking his tongue, "And you're still not as well as I'd like."

"Hallucinogen?"

"Just like you thought," Sheppard nodded.

"But," McKay frowned, "how…how much…."

"You mean, how much of what we saw was real?"

"Yeah."

"What do you remember?"

Rodney frowned, looking at all of their expectant faces.  He focused back on Sheppard, looking for a kindred spirit.  "I….you said…I didn't have a stick."

Sheppard frowned, "What?"

"You said, I used a stick as a cane.  It wasn't a stick.  It was an axe."

The major's eyebrows shot up, "Axe?"

McKay's expression grew bewildered, "You remember.  You said, 'now that's an axe,' when I took it down in that oval room."

"I did?"  Sheppard looked at Ford.  The lieutenant shrugged.  McKay's eyes narrowed, agitation growing in his voice at the major's lack of memory.

"It was called," he paused, trying to recall the name, "the Great Axe of Setanta," he frowned, looked towards the blond woman.  "It belonged to a warrior of your people.  "

She just raised her eyebrows, "And you found that axe in the Temple?"

McKay was really confused now, reading her blank expression, and getting a little scared. He focused back on Sheppard.

"You were there.  You must remember!"

"McKay, all I remember is finding you semi-conscious in a room…that might have been oval…scaring ourselves half to death because of some bioluminescent fungus, then wandering around for a while until you found some carvings on a wall that you figured out was a map of the Temple.  You got us out.  Don't you remember?"

"Map?  No, we were…we were led out…the children…."

"Children?"

"Conrad…and the girl, Brigid…Major, you argued with them, remember?"

Sheppard just shook his head, his eyes growing increasingly concerned.  Then the eyes lifted, probably to look at Beckett over McKay's shoulder.

"Many times I've wandered the halls of the Temple when I was a child," Scathach said quietly.  "I know it so well, I could make my way around it blind.  There is no oval room, and there is no axe."

"He's needs his rest," Beckett said calmly.  "I think, perhaps, we should…."

"I beheaded two Wraith guards with it," McKay said sharply, sitting up a little.  He felt Beckett lay a hand on his chest, but he wouldn't let himself be pushed back down yet.  "How could I do that without a weapon like an axe?"

Ford pursed his lips, and looked towards Sheppard.  The major was shaking his head.

"Two of them were beheaded, sir," Ford said quietly.

"I don't know about that, Ford," Sheppard hissed, "But I would have remembered an axe, don't you think?"  The major was sitting stick straight now, staring hard at McKay, "So what happened to it?"

"I…left it.  Inside the entrance.  I couldn't carry you both."

Sheppard blushed then, which was a surprising look.

"There was no axe inside that entrance," Teyla's voice said, quietly.  McKay nearly jumped out of his skin, and the monitors showed an increase in the already quickened heart rate.  Beckett made a soothing noise as McKay peered down at his feet.  Teyla stood there, leaning against the end of his bed.  How long had she been there?

"He's still not well," Scathach said, looking over at Beckett.

"Aye," the doctor pressed harder on Rodney's chest, lying him back down. "It'll all come back more clearly, Rodney, just give it time."

"No, I'm not crazy!  It couldn't…it couldn't have…." McKay was staring up at Beckett, confusion clear in his eyes.  "I didn't make it all up…."

"Of course not, Rodney."  Beckett patted his shoulder, "You'll figure it out.  Just rest now."

"No, Carson, I…saw them…the children…I promised…." Rodney closed his eyes, finding them very heavy all of a sudden, "I promised…not to forget…."

"I know," the Scottish voice promised as the blue eyes closed, "I know."

And Rodney fell back asleep.  Sheppard watched him for a few moments, then glanced up at Beckett, then into the eyes of the others.

"He's just…a little confused." 

Teyla frowned, and looked at Ford.  They heard the tremor in Sheppard's voice, even though he was trying to hide it.  Something had changed.

_____________________________________

Sheppard followed the dark-skinned doctor as he wandered about the infirmary, turning down lights and talking softly with the nurses.  The major was trying to listen to the conversations, or at least trying to read their lips, hoping desperately to hear one of them use that doctor's name.  Beckett had called him, "boy-o" at one point, which was seriously unhelpful in his current quest, and he thought Tara had called him Hawthorne, but turned out they were talking about one of the books she'd brought to Atlantis with her. 

It was maddening.  He'd had whole conversations with the man now, even shared a table with him a few times in the mess, but not once had the man's name come up. 

He was determined to find out the man's name.  If it was the last thing he….

"Hey," a voice called softly to him.

Sheppard turned, his eyes lighting up to see Rodney watching him.  The scientist was pushing himself up on his elbows, trying to prop himself up, his face a contortion of pain as he tried to shift his aching legs.

"Hey," the major replied softly, "you awake again?"

"Seems that way, though one never knows," came the cryptic reply.  McKay grunted, as he pushed himself further up on the bed.  His left leg was numb and useless, while his right leg just throbbed.

"Wanna hand?" Sheppard asked, twisting to throw off his blanket.

"No," McKay huffed, "I got it."  And, sure enough, the pillow got puffed and McKay was sitting partially up.  He settled back with a heavy sigh, propped his arms behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling.  After a moment, he sighed again, his face darkening.

Sheppard grimaced, knowing where the man's thoughts were headed and wanting to stop him.  He leaned over.

"Hey McKay."

"Yeah?"

"You, uh, do you know that doctor's name?"  he gestured towards the dark-skinned doctor, who was currently talking to what looked like another female doctor on the other side of the room.  "The guy, I mean."

McKay looked in that direction, then back at Sheppard, a strange look on his face, "You don't his name?"

"Well," the major waved a hand about, "It's not so much that I don't know it, exactly…."

He looked back at Rodney, and grimaced to see the grin on his face.  McKay arched an eyebrow.

"Well I’m not going to tell you," he said smugly.  "You'll just have to figure it out on your own."

Sheppard nodded, sneering a little.  He should have expected that.  "Thanks a lot."

"No problem."  McKay leaned back again, and his expression returned to neutral.  Sheppard thought about sleeping, decided he wasn't tired yet, and looked back again at Rodney.  The neutral expression was gone.  McKay's brow was furrowed, the slight pinch in his forehead and the tensed jaw sure signs that the man was thinking again about the planet.

"You know, he's letting us both go tomorrow," Sheppard informed him, still trying to distract the other man's thoughts.  "It's night now, so I'm thinking maybe eight more hours in these awful beds."

"I know.  I heard Beckett tell you that.  I just didn't open my eyes."

The major nodded, "Been doing that a lot?"

"No…yes…I don't know.  Everything's a bit of a jumble."

"Don't I know it."

"How can you not remember that axe?"

It was delivered harshly, almost like an accusation.  McKay's blue eyes shifted to stare at Sheppard for a second, before focusing back on the ceiling.

The major grimaced, looking down at the blanket on his bed as he pulled it back over his legs.  "Was it…a double headed battle axe?" he asked softly.

McKay nearly sat up straight, turning to look at the major with wide open eyes.  "You do remember!" he hissed.

"No, no," Sheppard held up his hands, "I mean…sort of.  Listen, McKay," Sheppard glanced over at the rest of the infirmary, making sure no one saw them talking, then leaned forward, "What I remember is…well, I didn't want to believe what I remembered.  Until you woke up, I was convinced, based on what Beckett told me, that it was all in my head.  I had two sets of realities drifting through my head…one of which I had to believe was a hallucination, and the other the reality."  He shook his head, "I didn't tell anyone about the first…because, damn it McKay, it sounded…insane, and the second grew in plausibility in my mind.  But…hearing what you said, I'm wondering if, maybe…I created the second to avoid accepting the first…."

"But you remember the axe?"

"I…yeah.  I think so.  It's all a bit of a blur."

"What about," McKay licked his lips, "the children?"

"I don't know, McKay…."

"Come on.  You argued with Conrad—"

"Conla."

"Conla about what he was…."  Suddenly, it occurred to McKay what Sheppard had just done, "Yes, Conla!  That was his name!  You—"

"I don't believe in ghosts, McKay."

"I don't care what you believe in!  Two people can't share the same delusion, Major.  They were there!"

"Shhhh!" Sheppard waved his good hand at McKay, his eyes on the people in the infirmary.  He saw Tara looking at them, her expression unhappy.  The dark-skinned doctor and the other doctor had disappeared, thank goodness.  "Look," he hissed, "Keep it down."

"Great," McKay fell back on his pillows, "just great."  But he said it softly.

Sheppard stared at him, reading the flashing eyes and the determined set to the jaw.  McKay's left hand was moving, twisting, which the doctor did whenever he was nervous.  However resolute the man appeared, there were massive undercurrents of insecurity roiling through him.  But, despite all that….

Scathach and Conor had both told him they used to explore the Temple all the time when they were kids, and nothing had ever "scared" them away.  Sure they had seen the "green light" but they knew it was the plants.  And there were certainly no rooms with weapons in them that they had ever seen.  And surely…they would know.  Wouldn't they? 

And Sheppard had wanted to believe the hallucination theory, to rationalize what had happened, to make it make sense in his head.  He had come to believe in the alternate realty he had created.  He had found McKay, McKay had brilliantly found a map, and they had gotten out of there.  It all made perfect sense!

But he did remember a boy.  A thirteen year old boy with a stubborn set to his chin and a determination that reminded Sheppard of himself when he was a kid.  And he remembered his name was Conla.

"Major," McKay sighed, his eyes turned to the major again, seeing the war inside the man, "Maybe we were drugged," he admitted softly. "Maybe things were exaggerated, but if you can swear to me, look me in the eye, and swear that you don't remember the children….I'll let it go."

Sheppard grimaced, then, with a sound similar to a "harrumph" he leaned back on his own bed and stared up at the ceiling.

McKay sighed, lowering his eyes to the brace around his left knee, then up at the ceiling.  He shut his eyes, trying to hold on to what he had seen….He didn't make it up; he couldn't have…And he'd promised them….He had promised Brigid he would remember….

Do not stand by my grave and cry

I am not there; I did not die.

But deep down, both men were worried about the same thing.  They were both deathly afraid that the others would think they were losing their minds….Or worse, that they actually were….

________________________________________

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: LAYING THE GHOSTS TO REST

Sheppard was quiet, following a little behind Ford as he wheeled McKay through the halls of Atlantis in the wheelchair Beckett had insisted upon.  For once, the scientist hadn't complained about the forced seat, too caught up in his own thoughts to mount much of an argument.  Besides, his left knee was still killing him.  Weeks, Beckett had threatened, which depressed the scientist.  Sheppard was in the same boat, his arm in a cast.  They were both going to be Atlantis bound for a while.

Neither said a word about their late night conversation from the day before.  It just hung out there between them like an elephant in the room.

They wheeled past McKay's lab, but the doctor did little more than glance inside.  A few feet later, they were in front of the quarters he had designated his "home."

Sheppard stopped, leaning against the wall opposite the door as Ford reached up to open it.

"I got it," McKay said, pushing himself up off the chair and touching his hand to the panel. Ford stepped aside, moving a little down the corridor and placing his hands behind his back.  The door slid open in front of the doctor, and he took a hobbling step forward…and stopped, one hand on the doorframe to keep himself upright. 

"You going to be okay, doc?" Ford asked, watching as McKay appeared a little bewildered by the room in front of him, his eyes blinking rapidly. "Something the matter?"

"Has someone been in here?" McKay asked, his free hand pointing vaguely inside.

Ford shook his head, "No sir.  Absolutely not.  Why? Is there something—"  He stepped forward to look inside.

"No, no," the doctor waved him back.  Ford stopped, his eyebrows both lifted.  He glanced at Sheppard, but the major hadn't lifted his eyes from his study of the floor, uninterested.  McKay made a soft "hunh" noise, then looked back at Ford.  "Okay.  I see.  Thank you lieutenant."

It was a goodbye, and Ford nodded, "See you later at the briefing."  He raised a hand, and McKay waved him away, no longer looking at him.  The lieutenant arched an eyebrow at the rude dismissal, but didn't say anything as he turned.  Major Sheppard pushed himself off the wall and moved to follow him.

"Um, Major?" McKay said, finally turning away from his review of his room, "could you wait a moment?"

Ford stopped, looking behind him.  Sheppard's brow furrowed, but then he shrugged.  He nodded at Ford, and the lieutenant sighed, turning to walk away by himself.

"What now?" Sheppard asked tiredly, turning back to McKay.

"You heard Ford say no one has been in here, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So," McKay limped into his room, using the wall as a brace, "explain to me how that got here."

Sheppard sidled around the wheelchair McKay had left in the hallway and slipped into the room after the scientist.

He stopped, looking at the wall over McKay's desk, between the two, narrow stained glass windows….

On which hung the Great Axe of Setanta. 

It was clean and sharp—looking as perfect as when McKay had first seen it back at the Temple. The two axe-heads gleamed, and the spear point looked as if it could poke a hole through steel.  There was one difference, however: another feather hung with the green ones—a slate gray feather with a white mark in the middle…that looked like a flying horse.  The weapon was resting on black cast iron hooks, which looked like they had been made a part of the wall—the gray metal wall wasn't even damaged.  The Great Axe looked like it belonged there.

"Okay," Sheppard said softly, unable to keep the awe from his voice.  "I believe."  As he said it, all his fears of madness were washed away, and a calm sort of conviction took their place.  He felt whole again…and happy.

McKay just limped further inside, sliding down into a chair next to a small desk, "I'm glad you see it too."  Then he shook his head, "But why…?"

"They're passing the gauntlet, McKay," Sheppard said softly, completely sure of himself now.  He nodded as he spoke, "That's what this is. They think we're good enough."

"They?"  McKay looked confused, "They who?  Good enough for what?"

"The ghosts, McKay, and not just Conla and the children," Sheppard seemed to have grown taller, standing there, smiling at him.  "All the warriors who came before.  They are finally being laid to rest, because we're here." His eyes narrowed as he focused back on the weapon, "The fight is ours now, and they're telling us they believe we can win.  They think we're good enough to wield this Axe." 

"The fight is ours?" McKay asked. "But what if they're wrong? I mean…it's asking a lot, don't you think?"

Sheppard just chuckled, meeting the scientist's concerned eyes, "No," he shook his head, "I think it just means, " a smile grew on his face, "what we’ve already been doing.  Always checking out one more room, McKay."

McKay just shifted his eyes back to the axe, and, slowly, shook his head, "One more room?"

"One more room."

A tiny smile lifted at the edge of McKay's mouth, "You know, I think can do that."

"Yeah," Sheppard nodded, "me too.  And," he smiled back at the doctor, "I think the rest of us can too."

McKay just nodded as Sheppard walked further into the room, to finger the leather on the hilt of the axe and touch the new feather.  McKay rubbed absently at the top of his left leg above the brace, not taking his eyes off the magnificent weapon, his mind tripping over the meaning of it.  A few minutes later, Teyla knocked politely on the still open doorframe, standing there with Grodin.  She pushed in the wheelchair they'd left in the hallway, saying something about them wanting to check in on the doctor, and both people found themselves speechless at the sight of the axe. 

Within an hour, it was all over the base.

The Great Axe of Setanta was theirs now.

It was a lot to live up to.  But then again, they were in the lost city of Atlantis, so…what else was new?    

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The End

A/N -- If you're wondering, the names are from Irish mythology.  They're a reference to the Tain, and the story of Cu Chulainn, whose born name was Setanta.  Scathach was the most famous female warrior at the time, and she ran a military academy of sorts.  She is the one who taught Cu Chulainn to fight. Her sister was Aiofe (which I changed to Ayf, to make it easer for people to pronounce in their heads).  Conor was the king of Ulster.  I have no excuse for picking on Irish mythology, except that when I was dreaming up the axe, I was reminded of the Gae-Bolg, which is the magical spear that, until he threw it in a battle, kept Cu Chulainn undefeated even against entire armies by himself.  So…that's where the names come from.  

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