Stargate Atlantis: Emerald Isle

Chapter 4 - Rebuilding

Rodney had been congratulating himself. His plan to rebuild his relationship with his friend had been beginning to work, he thought. He had tried to keep a positive attitude throughout the day, which was difficult because their walk through the wilderness had made him hot and uncomfortable. His feet had hurt and branches kept snapping back in his face, which he was sure Sheppard didn't mean to do, but anyway they did and it was annoying so that Rodney felt his patience had been tried pretty far. But he had remained positive.

His plan to get Sheppard talking had met with limited success; his constant questioning had won some answers, but there had been one moment by the river where Sheppard had zoned out completely and Rodney had been worried. The expression on his face had been so bleak, so depressed. But it had renewed Rodney's resolution; this had gone on long enough.

Only now he'd mishandled the situation completely and Sheppard was standing at the water's edge, his suppressed trauma showing in every line of his body. So much for direct confrontation, thought Rodney. Not that he'd been that direct. Anyway, he wasn't giving up. And there was work to do.

Rodney approached his friend obliquely, his boots scrunching on the shingle. He stood, a little way off.

"I cleared away the sand," he said, "down to the bedrock. I'm no mere engineer, but I thought, you know, a stable foundation would be good. I made it broad so it'll taper towards the top - should be stronger like that." He paused. No response. "So... I'm going to start gathering big, flat stones from the beach and maybe you could start building?" He waited.

"Yeah, sure," came the grunted response.

oOo

Rodney took off his tac vest, then his jacket and then put the vest back on. He spread out his jacket, regretfully, hoping that he wouldn't damage it too much; he liked this jacket much better than the old ones and was reasonably confident it made him look pretty cool. Anyway, it would make his current job easier. He placed three of the large stones inside it and tested the weight, picking it up by both arms and the hem. Not too heavy.

He carried the stone-laden jacket over to the pile he'd made outside the cave and then made several more trips before he stopped to check on John's progress. He'd laid the broad foundation of the wall and was slowly setting more stones on top, choosing them carefully to fit together and checking each one for stability. He was obviously finding it difficult to manoeuvre the stones with his sore fingers and he moved stiffly whenever he twisted to pick up another. Rodney began helping, copying how John was building and they worked together in virtual silence until they'd run out of readily available stones.

"Time for a break," said Rodney, sitting down. He took out two power bars and handed one to John.

"What are we going to do for food?" he asked, worriedly. "I only have a few power bars left!"

John gave a very small smile, a shadow of his usual easy lop-sided grin, but a smile nevertheless. He reached into a pocket of his tac vest and drew out an old tobacco tin.

"Never had to use this before," he said. "Been carrying it for years."

He opened the tin and took out a coil of wire, or rather, as Rodney saw as they unwound, several lengths of wire, each a couple of feet long.

"For snares," said John, setting them aside.

Next he took out a metal rod attached to a smaller, flat piece of metal and set them down, commenting: "for fire-lighting."

Lastly, he opened a carefully-wrapped packet, to reveal four tiny fish-hooks and a small reel of fishing-line.

"You are such a Boy Scout," said Rodney. "Do you know how to use this stuff?"