Status: Completed 2/08/2009

Word Count: 1,695

Author's Notes: As promised, the secret of the creatures is revealed! Sorry if the change in "PoV" from Sheppard to Rodney throws anyone at all, but I felt that that part of this chapter needed to be told through him.

John sighed in disgust. It seemed like they had hadn't gotten very far at all and, once again, he was leaning much more heavily on Teyla than he intended too. He really needed to rest. And pee, he really needed to pee.

Teyla looked at him in concern as he stopped. "Break time," he said and she nodded in agreement. Then he addressed the rest of the group, "Let's take fifteen."

Teyla moved to help him sit, but he waved her off. "Keep an eye on him," he told her nodding towards McKay. The scientist hadn't said much of anything all day, nor had he made any of his usual snide remarks. All of which had John just a little concerned.

"Ford," he called out to the junior officer, who turned and came to his side. "I need a hand."

"I can assist you, Major."

"No!" John exclaimed.

John glared at Ford, who had chuckled. Then he spoke to Teyla again, who was looking at little baffled.

"I . . . uh . . . I need to pee." He said a silent prayer that he was not blushing.

Smiling, Teyla nodded and John was relieved that she didn't seem offended. He wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that she looked rather amused. Motioning to Ford, he carefully slid his arm from Teyla's shoulder to the lieutenant's.

The two men moved to a more wooded area as quickly as John's injuries would allow. It wasn't easy to support himself and do his business basically one handed, but as long as he could stand, there was no way in hell he was going to have anyone help him with this particular task. Ford was there just to make sure he didn't fall on his face.

Or piss all over himself.

Finishing as fast as he could, he zipped his pants up then leaned on Ford again as they made their way back to McKay and Teyla. Spotting a large rock a few feet from McKay, John motioned for Ford to help him over to it. He sighed heavily as he sat and patted Ford on the shoulder. "Thanks."

Acknowledging the gesture, Ford moved away and stood where he could keep a lookout for any more of the creatures. John found that he was damn proud of the kid. He was a fine Marine. It was a shame, he thought, that the young man had chosen to be a jar-head rather than join the Air Force.

John winced as a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. The injury to his shoulder was throbbing, but the pain was tolerable. His abdomen though, was another story. It hurt so badly he almost wanted to cry. He was surprised that he didn't have a headache with the way the left side of his face ached. His eye had started to swell a bit blurring his vision.

Wordlessly, Teyla pulled her med-kit out of her bag and dug around for something. Obviously finding what she was looking for, she stood and walked over to John, presenting him with a package of Tylenol. Smiling his thanks he was silently grateful she hadn’t encouraged him to eat anything, the way his stomach was rolling, he was pretty sure it would only come back up a few minutes later. The only thing worse than a cold MRE was a regurgitated MRE. Popping the pills, he washed them down with water from his canteen and pocketed the blister pack.

Rodney decided to take advantage of the extra break to look over what little data he'd been able to retrieve from the computer terminal before they'd been forced to leave the Ancient facility. He'd meant to do it the night before, but he'd been so rattled by the events that had transpired he'd spent nearly his entire watch pacing around their small camp. Punching a few keys on the small laptop, Rodney blanched as he realized what he was looking at. "They're Wraith," he blurted out.

He winced in sympathy when Sheppard bolted upright, instantly alert, face tight against the pain. "Where?" he demanded raising his P-90.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean I saw any just now." He gave Sheppard and the others, who also had their weapons ready to fire, an apologetic look before continuing, "The Ancients were doing genetic research on the Wraith! Not just research, they were tampering with the Wraith's DNA." As he looked around he could see his own feelings about this revelation plainly on the faces of his teammates. The revolution and anger in their eyes mirrored what he felt in his heart. How could they do that? Worse, how could they leave those . . . those . . . things alive?

"McKay," Sheppard growled at him, "please tell me this is your idea of a very sick joke!"

Looking back to his data-pad, Rodney chose to ignore the remark. He knew Sheppard was in a great deal of pain and so he was willing to let the remark slide. As he read further, he had to resist the urge to throw-up. Apparently, the Ancients hadn't stopped at simply manipulating the Wraiths' DNA.

"Son-of-bitch!" he exclaimed. "It looks like they were trying to create some kind of killing machine to use against the Wraith. They spliced the test subjects' DNA with a creature very much like a feral dog, greatly increasing their sense of smell and their killer instincts."

Rodney continued to read without looking up to see the others' reactions. Really, though, he didn't need to look at them, he was pretty damn sure he knew how they felt. Repulsed, just like him.

"Oh, jeez," he muttered in horror. "One of the scientist's working on the project got the brilliant," he spat the word as if it were a curse, "idea to throw his or her own DNA into the mix." Finally looking up, he stared at Sheppard with a mix of pity and, perhaps, a tinge of fear. "I think that's why they seem to be targeting you."

"I'm not sure I follow," Sheppard said, although Rodney was almost positive he did. The Air Force major was not as dumb as Rodney had first assumed he was. Cutting the wounded man some slack, he elaborated. "Possibly because of the combination of mixing, for the purpose of this discussion we'll refer to the quack as "he", his DNA and that of the dog-thing, the Wraith creatures are able to either sense or smell the ATA gene!" Thinking for a moment, he muttered, "What the hell was that nut thinking?"

Teyla opened her mouth to say something and Rodney waved her off, "That was a rhetorical question, don't answer that. Anyway, the creatures began to mutate beyond the "scientist's", if you want to call them that, control and killed three people. The project was shut down and the planet abandoned."

"Shit," Sheppard muttered. "Bastard's just never know when to stop."

Rodney had to agree with that assessment. For a so-called "vastly superior race", the Ancients were really starting to show just how human, and flawed, they really were. *And what does that say about you?* Rodney shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may be a little cocky and just a tad arrogant, but he would never mess with the DNA of any being. Especially not the Wraith and most definitely not like the Ancients had done.

"So they are targeting Major Sheppard because he is a carrier of the Ancient gene?" Teyla asked, though the look on her face made it clear she understood perfectly that that was exactly what was happening.

"Yes."

"Then why don't they target you as well? You have had the gene therapy." Rodney watched as the lieutenant glanced worriedly at their commanding officer.

"The ATA therapy isn't as strong as the natural gene. Maybe it isn't strong enough for them to sense," Rodney answered with a shrug.

"Doesn't matter," the major replied. "Let's move out. I want to be back at the 'gate before nightfall."

Looking up at the sky, Rodney was almost positive that wasn't going to happen. The major's injuries were slowing them all down. He was a little awed at the man's determination and will. Not to mention his threshold for pain. He knew that, if he were in the major's shoes, he'd be curled up on his side crying for the damn doctors!

And drugs, lots and lots of drugs. The good stuff that Beckett liked to squirrel away and hide from him, even when he was in awful pain.

"I should check your wounds again," Teyla said as she moved toward Sheppard. Proving just how stubborn he was, Sheppard waved her off. "When we stop for dinner. Right now, we need to get moving."

Rodney wondered if Sheppard was so anxious to move because he thought there were more of those creatures close by. He glanced anxiously around the small clearing. Seeing Teyla move, he watched as she helped the major get unsteadily to his feet. Already, he noticed, the injured man was leaning more heavily on Teyla than he had been before, even immediately after the second attack. He couldn't help but wonder how much further the stubborn man could go before his body gave up the ghost and he collapsed, forcing the others to find a way to carry him home. Sure they would not make it more than a couple of miles before they had to stop for a break again, Rodney glanced at his watch and sighed. At their current pace, even if they were able to make to the Stargate without making camp for the night, it would be at least another ten hours before they made it back.

*No way in hell he's going to make it.* Stealing a glance at the major, Rodney noticed that the stubborn, hardheaded fool seemed a bit shaky now where he hadn't been before. His face, the half that wasn't an ugly purplish/bluish/black bruise, looked a little flushed.

With one last concerned glance at Sheppard -whom he was kinda, sorta, in a weird way, beginning to think of as a friend-, he took his sidearm back out and followed closely behind Lieutenant Ford.

TBC