Home Fires Burning by lavvyan
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Character Death.
Summary: Stranded on an alien world, food becomes an issue.
AN: I'm so going to that special hell for this. And I'm taking smuffster with me. ;)
Home Fires Burning
Two days after their MREs had run out, Rodney finally snapped.
"Look, Colonel, we all can pretend we've never heard of the Andes, but let's face it: if we want to survive, one of us has got to go."
"And that would be your noble offer of sacrifice, wouldn't it, McKay?" John drawled, but he wasn't naive enough to disagree.
"Yes, because I'm sure you can fix the DHD on your own. I'm the only chance you have to get back to Atlantis, but in order to do that, I need to concentrate, and that is just a little hard if I'm one step away from hypoglycaemic coma!"
"So what, you want me to do it?"
Rodney's face fell.
"What? I... no, I'm not... John, you know I wouldn't..."
"He's got the gene," Ronon rumbled, surprising them both. "We need him."
"Well. Yeah." Rodney visibly pulled himself together. "You're too skinny anyway."
John and he stared at each other, then as one they turned to look at Ronon.
Ronon looked back.
After a while, Rodney cleared his throat.
"Yes, well. That leaves only one person, doesn't it?"
+++
If the planet they were stranded on had one thing to offer, it was dead wood. Well, that and water, but for now dead wood was kind of the point. Ronon used his experience of seven years of life in the wilderness to carve the perfect spit, while Rodney used his experience of building campfires offworld to, well. Build a camp fire.
A large one.
He was mostly done when Elizabeth joined him. Her hair was still damp from the swim they had suggested she take – it was always nice to feel clean, wasn't it?.
"Hey. Did you have an inspiration?" she smiled at Rodney, pointing at what she probably thought was a signal fire.
John stood up from where he had been sorting through their meagre seasonings, and cleared his throat.
"Elizabeth. What say we go for a walk?"
+++
"Well. I always thought she looked like she had a stick up her ass."
+++
Elizabeth was slowly roasting over the fire, with Ronon smiling slightly as he turned the spit ever so often. It seemed strangely fitting that the discussion should grow more... heated.
"And I'm saying we shouldn't have tried to roast her whole. She would have been done a lot faster if we'd just cut her down to little pieces before."
"I'm not cutting my boss into bite-sized nibbles, Rodney!"
"I don't see why not, since you're going to eat her!"
"And whose idea was that?"
"I didn't hear you complain!"
"Well, maybe I don't want you to die here!"
"And you think I want to see you starve?"
There was a pause.
"The salt would have lasted us much longer."
"Rodney!"
Ronon felt his mouth water as he watched pale skin turn brown.
+++
They had cut her into little bits in the end, if only because it was a little hard to pretend you were eating chicken if what was stuck on the spit was wearing your mom's hair. So they had salvaged everything that seemed actually edible, quickly buried the remains in a shallow hole, and were just sitting down to eat when there was a bright, white light, and Colonel Caldwell appeared next to the glowing remains of their fire.
"Your radios don't seem to be working, and we didn't want to beam you up without warning," he said, looking around.
They stared at him, nicely roasted meat dripping between their fingers.
"Where's Dr. Weir?" Caldwell asked.
They stared at each other, guilt written across their faces.
"She got eaten," Ronon offered.
"Eaten?" Caldwell asked, horrified. Rodney nodded frantically.
"Uh, yes. Native wildlife. Very tragic."
"I wish I could have protected her," John added with a mournful expression.
They all fell silent as they thought deep thoughts about the tragedies of life.
"So, Colonel Caldwell. You hungry?"
+++
End.