Author's Note:

I'm sorry this took so long. I played with it and played with it and still don't like it much. I may have too much "Genii" in my replicators but I don't know how to fix it. Any suggestions are GREATLY appreciated.

Note: Unlike other stories in this series, this will take place in two realities - The Vegas Universe and an Alternate Universe, where the Replicators have taken over Atlantis, causing all our favorite people to flee - either to the Vegas Universe or other places - with the exception of Rodney and Radek, who stayed behind to make sure everyone got out safely. All hail the conquering geeks! In order to keep confusion to a minimum, I am going to try to write each chapter in either one universe or the other - but not both. Let me know if it does get confusing and I will try something else.

Thanks to all who have followed and enjoyed - especially those who have reveiwed. You guys rock!

AU - Alternate Reality

Rodney McKay was dying and John Sheppard was powerless to stop it. As soon as Bates had dragged him through the worm hole he had been stunned. John woke in the oddest prison cell he had ever seen and knew instantly it wasn’t man-made – human made, anyway. Looking around he realized he wasn’t alone. Dr. Rodney McKay, not his Dr. McKay, but A Dr. McKay lay on the floor, barely breathing. John’s first aid knowledge was limited to what he had learned in the military years ago but he did what he could. It looked like McKay had a nasty break in his arm and several lacerations in his abdomen that no one had bothered to bandage. John quick shucked off his shirt and tore it into rags. It wasn’t clean but it would have to do until John figured something out.

The minutes turned into hours and the best thing – and the worst thing - was when Rodney came around. He had only been coherent once and even then had mistaken John for his Colonel Sheppard. John didn’t know how to respond to the genuine affection and relief in McKay’s voice. He had even cupped John’s face and no one had done that since, well, since his brother had after their mother’s funeral. The fact that Colonel Sheppard had left this McKay behind filled John with a fury and protective streak. In his opinion “the Colonel” wasn’t that great of a hero if he had left such a good friend to die.

The rest of the time, Rodney had been incoherent, calling out for John, for Elizabeth and Jennifer, whoever they were, mumbling about ZPM levels and energy bridges, fighting off Wraith and something called a Koyla and other things John didn’t understand. He tried to quiet the scientist as best he could but it was obvious that Rodney was running a high fever that was getting worse.

Just as John had decided to start yelling, the door outside the cell slid open and the man who had kidnapped John, Bates is what Teyla had called him, came in with three others. One held a stunner on him as the force field was lowered. John carefully lowered McKay’s head to the ground and stood up between the captors and the helpless scientist.

The fat one, who looked strangely like a character from an old MASH episode he had seen, approached him and smiled. It was creepy.

“Ah, Colonel - So glad you could join us.”

“What do you want?” John ground out, trying to keep his anger in check.

“Why the coordinates to Earth, of course – or the gate address will suffice. We will also need your security codes so we can override the blocks Dr. McKay put in place before he was . . . incarcerated.”

John was stumped. He didn’t know the gate address to Earth. Hell he didn’t even know where he was much less how to get back. Security Codes? Forget it. Well, John hadn’t spent 4-5 nights a week gambling in the best halls in Vegas for nothing. Sheppard drew himself up to full height and smiled lazily.

“Well, now, I would be more inclined to help you if you would see to my friend first.”

“Oh, Colonel - We know you would never give up that information voluntarily, even to save your dearest friend. Fortunately, we don’t have to rely on that.”

At a signal, two of the fat bastard’s (as John had dubbed him in his mind) goons forced him to his knees. John had had training in resisting torture techniques and braced himself as best he could. Unfortunately, nothing had prepared him for the pain of a replicator mind probe.

One moment John was in the cell and the next, he was driving down a dessert road in his beloved Camaro. Everything seemed completely normal except the splitting headache he had. Looking around John saw that he wasn’t alone - the fat bastard was sitting in the seat beside him. “What the hell?” and then John felt it. It was like hundreds of cockroaches crawling, searing across the neural pathways in his head. So John did the only thing he could think of . . . he slammed the cassette in the tape deck and started singing at the top of his lungs.

When I was just a baby my momma told me son

Always be a good boy. Don’t ever play with guns.

But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry.

John concentrated completely on the road, the wind in this hair and the songs in his head, pushing past the pain and panic. He had gotten through Ring of Fire, Jackson, and was starting on Get Rhythm when the pain abruptly stopped and suddenly John was back in his cell.

John blinked twice fighting back the residual headache, thinking, “And what the hell! Did that, that thing just pull his hand out of my forehead?”

“Very clever Colonel. But you know you won’t be able to block our probes indefinitely.”

John tried to smile again but it came out more like a grimace. “Maybe not but you won’t get what you need from me. McKay set the blocks after I left. I don’t have those codes – only McKay knows those. Too bad he can help you.”

A lackey came up behind the Fat Bastard and said quietly, “Oberon, we have detected several Hive Ships on long range scanners. We are unable to cloak the city.”

John smiled smugly at Oberon’s expression of frustration. “Like I said, without Rodney, you’re stuck. My codes only get the job half done.”

Oberon signaled two of his men to haul the Doctor up. “We will take you to the infirmary where you will tend to his injuries. You have one hour to get the information we need or I will kill him. Do you understand?”

John grimaced again. One hour would be enough to get some antibiotics into the scientist’s system. Hopefully he wasn’t allergic – if so, John had just saved Oberon the trouble.

The guards threw McKay on the biobed under the scanner and John dashed forward to keep McKay from falling off the other side. As soon as his hand came in contact with the scanner, the machine lit up. As John leaned over Rodney to adjust the scientist, a long high whistle was let loose from the machine. The guard’s both looked at each other and stepped away to converse. One stepped out of the room while the other stayed to watch the two friends.

John didn’t notice the exchange – he was busy studying the display - trying to reason out the information he was receiving. Fortunately, the machine responded to his every need, - what kind of antibiotics, fever reducers and pain reliever was best, where the wound cleaner and bandages where. It even displayed detailed information for setting the arm just as John wished for an old first aid book to explain it to him. He had McKay patched up in 30 minutes flat. Just as John finished the polyseal on the arm cast, McKay’s eyes fluttered open.

“John?” He asked weakly.

:”Yeah, Rodney, it’s me.” John replied

“Well that is partially correct,” Oberon said from behind Sheppard. Sheppard turned and again took a protective stance between the two.

“Oberon,” the hatred seeped out of the scientist’s hoarse whisper. “You won’t get away with this.”

Oberon instantly pulled a particle weapon from his robes and pressed the muzzle to John’s head.

“Whoa, whoa there.” John said, trying to hide his dismay, backing up until he bumped into the bed with his back.

“Dr. McKay – Give the codes or I will kill him, here and now.” Oberon’s steely voice said quietly.

“Rodney, Don’t . . .”

“Access Alpha, McKay, 16431879196842.”

Oberon abruptly pulled the gun up at which point john felt his knees go weak with relief. He grasped on to the edge of bed to keep from falling.

Oberon clucked disappointedly. “You should have listened to him, Dr. McKay. This man is not your friend. He is only a pale imitation.”

Rodney nervously cut his eyes at Sheppard before saying, “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh no? Then just take a look at his scan. There are several hundred nanites in his heart and lungs – none of them active right now but still this makes it irrefutable that this is not Colonel Sheppard.”

John grimaced. He knew that those nanites would come back and bite him in the butt. Hoping to salvage the situation, John cut in. “That’s how they healed me – from the virus – nanites. I didn’t want them but . . . .”

“Mr. Sheppard, we both know that is not the truth. If you were the real Colonel Sheppard, you would know that he had been implanted, along with the rest of the Atlantis personnel, with an electrowave particle emitter, which does not allow the function of nanites in your system.”

“Yeah, well, they removed it.”

Oberon’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “They removed it from your heart?”

“Yeah,” John lied, scrambling for details. “They had a doctor, Scully I think her name was, who used something called a flux capacitor to transport the emitter out of my heart.”

“And the kill switch?”

“Was rendered inactive by one of their scientist, Emmet Brown.”

“Bates, is this true?” Oberon asked confidently.

Bates stepped forward but hesitated. At a sharp glance from Oberon, Bates fumbled his answer. “I’m not sure, sir. Some of the terms and names sound familiar but I don’t know from where.”

John smiled triumphantly but it was short lived.

“Mr. Sheppard, help Dr. McKay up. We have a wraith vessel to fight off.”

Oberon left the room as John turned to help Rodney up. As Rodney swung his feet over the side, he glanced at the remaining guards and whispered incredulously, “Dr. Scully? Where was Mulder?”

John just grinned and threw the scientist’s arm over his shoulder, helping him to his feet.