Stargate Atlantis: Latitude

Chapter 6 - The Tarranai

Rodney was suspicious.  He hadn't wasted his time when John had been off stealing furs and, apparently,  frightening innocent villagers.  He had carried out, by touch, in the dark, an inventory of their food supplies; fish, ration packs and probably inedible Asgard tablets, and he had made a rough calculation of how many days they'd last.  He was suspicious because they shouldn't have lasted this long.

Rodney thought they probably resembled cavemen themselves and dirty, disreputable cavemen at that, but he thought John was looking particularly pale and gaunt.  Rodney knew he himself had lost quite a bit of weight, but he had what he liked to call a 'safety margin' in that respect; John hadn't had any weight to lose in the first place.  Rodney resolved to keep a sharp eye on his friend and when John insisted on him eating, Rodney would be equally insistent.

He watched as John tied up the furs into a bundle and scattered the damp ashes from their fire with shaking hands. He finished and sat, listlessly, head drooping.

"Where's yours?" Rodney said, waving his ration pack.

"Had it already."

Rodney reached for the messenger back and John tried to grab it but Rodney was quicker.  It was very light; nearly empty.  He drew out the pack with the foil top folded over and held it out.

"Finish it!"

"I was saving it for later."

"You need it now, Sheppard!  How far do you think you can walk like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're so weak you can hardly stand," said Rodney.  "You've been starving yourself, haven't you?  So I could have extra."

"You need it more."

"Not that much more," insisted Rodney.  "Now eat that before I spoon-feed you!"

"Don't have a spoon," grumbled John half-heartedly.

Rodney watched him closely as he ate, making sure he finished it.

oOo

That day Rodney led the way, for a change, up over a broad shoulder of land and when they reached the top they could see, a long way below them, an undulating sea of grassy hillocks stretching off into the blue, hazy distance.  The mountains were at an end, but they could see no sign of civilization.

"Well, this is more hopeful!" said Rodney, forcing a smile.  "It can't be as cold down there, at least!"

"I guess," said John unenthusiastically.

Rodney looked at John's pallid features and dull eyes; even his hair looked lifeless.

"Lunchtime!" Rodney said.  "Sit!" He pointed at a rock.

"We should eat on the move if we want to be in the lowlands by nightfall," said John.

Rodney continued to point at the rock.  "Sheppard, sit!  That's... er, that's an order!"

"You can't give me orders, McKay!" John sat, nevertheless.

Rodney perched on the rock next to him.  "I believe it's fish on the menu today!" he said, pulling one of the stiff, dried fish out of the bag and thrusting it at John.  John sneered at the fish and Rodney prodded him in the arm with it.  "You have to eat it when I've gone to such trouble to present it so daintily!" He poked John with the fish again and was rewarded with a choke of laughter.  Rodney took one out for himself and they both began to eat.

"You know, I kind of like it, despite the texture!" Rodney said, chewing.  "It's an unusual taste." He paused. "But one I've definitely acquired!"