@gingerpolyglot @ragingpancake Look what you hath wrought!
The first one, he maintains, was not his idea. They did not need matching tattoos to be a “real band.”
But Rodney’s first love had been the stars; and he had found those stars again in the grey-blue of Evan’s eyes and the softness of his smile, and the winner of this particular fight was never in doubt.
It’s simple, as far as it goes—just a hammer and forge, the first bars of that first song, guys this is actually good!, with Ilmarinen in somewhat overwrought letters arching above it all. A relic from a more innocent time; before stargates, before aliens, before a last kiss and a last fight and a final slammed door.
Before, before, before.
(He and Evan smile about it now--those three boys, headstrong and foolish and so damn young; preparing to take on the world, and not knowing that one day they’d take on so much more.)
The second, he gets in a bout of drug-hazed madness. Too many stimulants and too little sleep; they’ve changed his medication again and his shifting brain chemistry zooms past logic straight into poor impulse control.
When Jeannie first sees it—that final equation, her equation, inked neatly on her brother’s inner arm—she cries into his shoulder.
(She sees it again, a dozen years later, after recriminations and arguments and a hard-won equilibrium—but now it’s joined by Maddie’s clumsy first attempt at E=MC2; a wash of green reminiscent of the Aurora Borealis shimmering against a Northern sky, a memory of long quiet drives; a line from Kaleb’s favourite poem— and she cries again.)
The third lies just under his heart—a reminder and a lesson.
Once, the Dorandan solar system was a monument—a thousand lives lost to hubris, ten thousand years before; now it lies in fragments in the emptiness of space—a testament to glass-fragile faith, arduously melted and refined through fire and so damnably easy to shatter. A grave marker for something that should have lasted beyond time and memory, and a grief beyond sorrow.
(The first time John sees it—stark black ink scarred into too-pale skin—it’s like a punch to the chest, all over again.)
The fourth is his favourite, as sentimental as it is. But Rodney found his place in a city on the sea, and the people there—and being exiled from his home does not mean it has been exiled from his heart.
The Stargate, high on his shoulder—John, Teyla, Ronon, Carson, Elizabeth transcribed in Ancient. He carries them with him, through Colorado and the Nevada desert; through space, through time, mistakes and sorrows and too much loss. Sweat and blood and pain; but laughter, too, and the break of the sun through a cloudy grey sky.
Whumper liked to drown Whumpee. Caretaker, still unaware of this part of their trauma, decides to treat their sleepy Whumpee to a nice bath, getting the bath drawn, lifting Whumpee into their arms and carrying them into the bathroom. Whumpee sees the water and starts to scream and trash, sobbing and begging Caretaker to please don´t make them they don´t know what they did and they are sorry but please don´t- Caretaker puts them down, hugs them and apologizes. Whumpee still needs to get cleaned up, but Caretaker solves this by grabbing some wet wipes and wiping them down, slowly and gently and lovingly
Whumpee doesn't sleep like they used to.
Caretaker would know. They'd seen it enough times before. Whumpee would nap around them all the time, and while it was never exactly something peaceful, it was never...like this.
Before. Before everything had changed, and Whumpee had been taken, and...
Whatever had happened to them then.
Caretaker doesn't know. Not really. They've seen the bruises, the medical reports at the hospital. They see the way Whumpee flinches at every touch, every noise, every perceived threat.
And the nightmares. Caretaker hears the pleas that rip from their throat, hear the way Whumpee begs for whatever they're seeing to stop, begs for help Caretaker couldn't provide then and can't now.
They're relieved, now, to see Whumpee in just a state of relaxation, medication from the hospital easing their tension and pain and anxiety as they stare at the television, unseeing.
But okay, for now. Seemingly.
Caretaker wants to make it better. They want to make Whumpee happy, more than anything. And they haven't been cleaned since their return from the hospital a few days before, and Whumpee always liked to be clean. They're probably terribly uncomfortable. And they're letting Caretaker touch them, hold them again, and so Caretaker believes there's no reason not to.
They run a bath, add in Whumpee's favorite salt scent, and then come closer. "Hey..." they whisper so as to not startle them, and then they pick Whumpee up, holding them close.
"Hmm...? Where're we...?" Whumpee mumbles, nearly unheard against Caretaker's shoulder, and Caretaker kisses their head.
"Ssh. Just a bath. Made sure it's warm, okay...? Relax..."
Whumpee doesn't seem to hear them at first, murmuring something else under their breath and nuzzling closer. They're precious, and it's all Caretaker can think about...
But the second Caretaker starts to lower them down to sit at the edge to help them undress, and Whumpee's foot dips below the surface of the water, Whumpee's eyes open wide and panicked and they shriek, "No!"
Caretaker freezes. They don't know what to do, especially not as Whumpee starts to claw at them, trying desperately to get back in their arms, trying to hold on tight enough that they can be lifted back up.
"Please! Please no! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll be good I'll be good just please don't—"
"Whumpee!" Caretaker whispers, pulling them up and away from the bath, back out of the bathroom as Whumpee clings to them and sobs into their shoulder, inconsolable. "Love...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...I thought..."
Whumpee isn't with them anymore, though. They're just crying, softly now, but repetitively murmuring their apologies, over and over, eyes squeezed shut, the way they do during the flashbacks Caretaker would do anything to prevent them from experiencing.
Whumpee used to love baths. They used to love being taken care of. What had that sick fuck done to them to make them like this...? They can only imagine, and it makes them sick.
Caretaker sits and holds Whumpee, gently shushing them, rocking them, relieved they're letting themselves be held and comforted through it, until finally the tears stop coming. Whumpee sniffles and stirs and whimpers softly, and looks up at Caretaker with red-rimmed eyes.
Caretaker's heart aches for them. They kiss Whumpee's nose, and then their forehead, and rub their back as they cough a bit.
"What happened?" Caretaker dares to ask, and Whumpee closes their eyes tight. Shuts out more memories they don't want, more memories Caretaker wishes they could save them from, all locked away. "I thought you liked baths."
"N-not anymore," they whisper, hoarse, forlorn, and that's all. They don't say another word.
But they don't have to. Caretaker knows how to communicate with them even when they can't speak. With gentle gestures and receiving nods, receiving compliance, Caretaker finds that they can fill a small bucket with warm water, and take that out to them. A washcloth, wet but not dripping, can be gently taken to their skin, and Caretaker wipes away their crying tears first.
"You're safe," Caretaker reminds them, as they slowly, slowly remove Whumpee's clothes, and Whumpee sags forward, their forehead resting against Caretaker's shoulder as Caretaker works.
They're all skin and bone. They look so fragile, and Caretaker's afraid to press too hard in case it hurts their healing wounds, fading bruises, shattered soul. They just keep going, until Whumpee is as clean as they can manage, and then dries them off with the same gentleness.
Whumpee is nearly asleep against them. They hum every few moments, but otherwise Caretaker is pleased to have relaxed them so much, especially with how it started.
They carefully lift their Whumpee and carries them to bed, helps them into soft pajamas, and then tucks them under the blanket.
Whumpee's hand grabs onto Caretaker's, and doesn't let go. Tugs gently.
Caretaker smiles, and fits themselves under the blanket, too, wrapping their arms around Whumpee and kissing the back of their neck.
"Thank you," Whumpee breathes out, and Caretaker smiles, closing their eyes, content to stay as long as Whumpee wants them to.
Instead of getting better, John only seemed to be getting worse. The headaches were unrelenting, bad enough that more than once, they’d had him sobbing in Teyla’s arms while she stroked his back and whispered comforting words in his ear, trying to ease his pain. When they’d switched out, Ronon replacing Teyla, he’d tried to distract John with stories of Sateda and when that didn’t work, he’d gathered him up, tucked him against his chest and hummed quietly until he fell into a fitful sleep.
Rodney, however, stays conspicuously absent.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there, because he does. Okay, he doesn’t because he hates the infirmary and because John is still Tiny Sheppard, but he does, because… well, because it’s John.
But with each passing day, the headaches grow in intensity and Rodney is terrified that if he doesn’t find a way to fix this now, when he does figure it out (and he will, eventually), it’ll be too late.
“Rodney.”
Her voice startles him and he jerks so violently that he very nearly sends the coffee he’s hardly touched crashing to the floor. He curses loudly and glances up at Teyla almost contritely even though he knows she’s heard worse.
“How is he?” He asks and if he feels a little guilty for not going down there himself… well. He just can’t. He’s more useful here, continuing to pour over the database, searching for schematics that’ll allow him to rebuild the damn device or something, anything that he can use to fix John.
“He continues to ask for you,” Teyla says as she comes closer, peering over his shoulder at his laptop. She’s one of the only people he doesn’t mind like this, that he doesn’t try to shoo away, instead turning to computer so she can better see his screen. “Have you found anything?”
“Nothing,” he says. “Absolutely nothing, which doesn’t mean anything because the data base is so large and I know there has to be something here, I just--.”
There are a million other things that need his attention. There are simulations he needs to run to check for inconsistencies in the power grid to the newly cleared tower on the far west side of the city and there are still strange, intermittent energy readings from different places within the city that he’s delegated Zelenka to because this… this is all he can focus on.
“He understands though, right?” Rodney asks, almost hesitantly. “Why I’m not there, I mean.”
“I believe so, yes.” She’s quiet for a moment as Rodney taps away. “His headaches are growing worse, Rodney. Each one more painful than the last.” Rodney’s fingers go still. “Ronon and I do not know what to do to comfort him and the medicine Doctor Beckett gives him seems to wear off quickly. I must confess, I do not believe I have ever felt so helpless before.”
Something twists in Rodney’s chest and he nods. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Trust me, I know how you feel.”
Teyla nods and lifts her hand to rest it against Rodney’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I must get back to relieve Ronon.”
“Teyla,” Rodney calls as the doors slide open and from the corner of his eye, he can see her pause, but he resolutely does not look at her. “Tell him… tell him that I’m going to fix this, okay?”
“He already knows. As do we all.”
----
It's sometime after midnight when Rodney steps into the infirmary, laptop tucked under one arm, coffee gripped in the other. It’s quiet tonight, empty save for the lone patient all the way down at the end, the one curled up on his, fingers gripping the leather of Ronon’s pants as the giant pets through his hair.
Ronon’s head is tipped back, eyes closed, but as Rodney grows closer, he speaks. “About time you showed up.”
“Yes, well,” Rodney says, trying to ignore the light sheen of sweat on John’s face and the rosy cheeks against otherwise pale skin. “…how is he?”
“Sick,” Ronon answers. “Scared. Says she’s mad at him.”
“… she?”
“The city.” At his side, John shifts fitfully, snuffling his nose against Ronon’s leg as Rodney considers, lips turned down in a frown.
“What do you mean?”
“Dunno,” Ronon says with a shrug, and Rodney knows that the other has never felt it, the way the city thrums beneath them. But he has, courtesy of Carson’s gene therapy and while he always knows it’s there, he always feels it most when he’s with John.
There’s no way the city would ever be angry with him, assuming, you know, sentient were with a thing (and Rodney’s not discounting that, he just doesn’t quite have enough proof yet to know for certain), because John Sheppard is the only one she well and truly lights up for.
Huh.
“Well,” Rodney says and he gestures behind him like he intends to go. “I should--.”
“You should stay,” Ronon says instead, eyes still closed. “He’d want you to.”
Rodney never could say no where John was concerned but he doesn’t sleep. He can’t, and his eyes burn from the hours, the days he’s spent trying to decipher and decode various parts of the database.
There are so many things he’s been neglecting in the pursuit the knowledge of how to fix John and it’s with that thought that he switches over to the main power system to see how Zelenka’s coming along with the data on the unexpected power surges.
What he finds makes him curse.
He stands quickly, untouched coffee and a quizzical look on Ronon’s face left behind as he hurries to the main control room, bodily moving Amelia out of the way as he sits down, fingers flying over the controls.
He lifts his hand, tapping his comm. “McKay to Weir and Zelenka, come in.”
“Zelenka here.”
“Go ahead, Rodney,” Elizabeth says,
voice thick with sleep.
“I need you two to the control room immediately. We might have a problem.”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Rodney does not enjoy children.
He never has, didn’t enjoy them even when he was one but perhaps it’s simply knowing that this child in particular is John fucking Sheppard that makes it a bit more bearable. Which is to say not bearable at all but he supposes it could be worse.
A six year old Ronon… now that was a terrifying thought.
No, Tiny Sheppard is curious and quiet, not entirely as stoic as his adult self but Rodney imagines that this is about the age that Patrick Sheppard began to teach his son that feelings were nonsense, that boys just simply didn’t show emotion, didn’t cry and it almost makes Rodney want to continue to scour the database for any remnants of Janus’ time machine just to travel back to 1973 and kick the elder Sheppard square In the balls.
Anyway.
Anyway.
While Rodney does not enjoy children, he doesn’t mind the company of this particular child which is why Tiny Sheppard is sprawled out on his belly near Rodney’s work station, working on some easier equations that Rodney had written down for him while Rodney, you know, tries to figure out a way to fix this.
It’s a particular brand of torture for him, having John right here but not here at all.
There’s a quiet sigh from the floor beside him and Rodney glances down to see John drop his head to his arms, equations only halfway finished.
“Oh, hello. Yes. What’s the matter with you?”
“’m tired of doin’ this, Rodney,” he huffs, voice muffled by his arms but something twists inside of Rodney the way it does every time Tiny Sheppard says his name, the lazy drawl that is so familiar, except so foreign with the tinier voice.
“Yes well, chop, chop. Back to it. We need to keep your mind sharp.”
“My head hurts,” he says and Rodney can’t see his face but he knows he’s pouting. He can hear it in his voice, can practically see his John in his mind’s eye and in this moment, he’s struck by just how much he misses him that it very nearly steals his breath.
He’s so caught up in his own misery that he almost misses the quiet whimper that escapes from the child.
Rodney sighs, a loud put upon thing that everyone knows is just for show when it comes to John, even in this miniature form. “Get up then.”
“Where’re we goin’?” He asks and he pushes himself up much quicker than he’d laid down, practically bouncing on the falls of feet despite just claiming not feeling well. Little shit. Rodney has a sneaking suspicion that maybe he’s been had.
“If all of this,” Rodney says, gesturing broadly to the lab, “doesn’t hold your interest, perhaps some of the other labs will. Zelenka and I found a couple new pieces of Ancient Tech in the lab below the East Pier.”
John looks almost giddy at the thought of that and he runs ahead of Rodney, leaving the scientist to roll his eyes as he follows behind.
At least this hasn’t changed.
---
The thing that John notices is how loud it gets in his head the closer they get to the East Pier. He can feel ‘Lantis almost all the time now but he likesher. She’s soothing and even though he knows she exists only in his head, she’s warm and he knows that he’s her favorite.
He knows it just like how he knows that Rodney likes Blue Jell-O, just like he knows that Rodney and Teyla and Ronon are his family, in that no one has to tell him or remind him. It’s just there.
But now, ‘Lantis seems unhappy with him, the thrum of her in his head getting louder. He stops in the hallway, pressing his hand to his forehead as Rodney continues on and he’s loud and he talks a lot but usually it’s comforting. Now though, it just hurts.
“Rodney,” John says and Rodney stops, turning back to him.
“Well, I told you it was a long walk from the lab,” he huffs and he comes back toward John. “What’s—oh.”
John can feel something trickling down his nose and he reaches up, touching it with his finger. Blood.
He can hear Rodney, sort of, on his comm calling for someone, but it kind of feels like that time they were on vacation at Nantasket Beach and a big wave knocked him under water. The thrumming has gotten louder and he gasps, dropping to his knees, hands gripping the sides of his head.
He thinks he hears someone calling his name before there are hands touching him, guiding him to floor before something explodes inside of his head.
---
Rodney remembers the first time Jeannie had a seizure. She was five and they were in a department store, the two of them left to their own devices outside of the fitting rooms while their mother tried on about twelve different dresses. Jeannie was hiding in the clothes racks, trying to goad him into finding her but he was too old for such nonsense and besides, he knew Mother would be incredibly unhappy if she came out to find him engaging.
He was sulking near the doorway, hands in his pockets when all of a sudden, Jeannie’s giggles stopped. She came out from one of the clothes racks, complaining about her fingers having gone numb, eyes wide in something that Rodney would later come to understand as a feeling of panic that presented just before.
She opened her mouth, called his name and before he closed the space between them, she dropped to the floor and began to seize violently. He remembered screaming for Mother, remembered the well meaning trying to hold Jeannie down, remembered the feeling of not being able to breathe until it finally stopped just under three minutes later.
It would be several seizures later before there was an official diagnosis as initially, Mother and Father wrote it off as some attention seeking behavior, and Rodney had already hated them for some years prior to this but that just cemented his opinion that they never should’ve been allowed to procreate.
He doesn’t need Carson to tell him that John had a seizure. Rodney remembers, thankyouverymuch, and what he needs for Carson is for him to explain whyit happened.
Which, of course, he cannot.
Which, of course, sends Rodney in an almost apocalyptic rant about voodoo scientists and shitty ancients and this entire god damned galaxythat takes both Teyla and Ronon to drag him from the infirmary.
Thankfully, or horrifically, John remains unconscious for the whole thing.
Rodney hates this place.
---
He spends the next twenty seven hours in his lab. He bars everyone except Zelenka and between the two of them, they manage to decode a disgusting ten percent of the database specifically on off-world outposts.
Teyla stops by several times, twice to bring him food and a third time to tell him that John was awake and asking for him. Rodney likes to think that John will forgive him for not coming, given the fact that he’s trying to figure this out before there’s another seizure and perhaps the loss of valuable brain cells.
After twenty seven hours, one minute and thirty nine seconds, Ronon shows up and drags Rodney bodily from the lab with an order called over his shoulder for Zelenka to go get
some rest. Even Rodney, tired as he is, hears the unspoken threat that if he comes back and Zelenka is still there, Ronon will throw him over his shoulder and carry him out himself.
“I have to figure this out,” Rodney protests as Ronon palms the door to his quarters open and shoves him inside.
“Think of how much stuff you might be missin’, McKay, because you’re too tired to focus. Sleep. Get somethin’ to eat and then go back to it.”
“But--.”
He watches as Ronon figures his blaster (set to stun hopefully) in warning and he holds his hands up, but only because he’s too tired to argue.
“Fine,” he huffs. “But if John can’t recite Pi to the twenty sixth digit when he’s back to himself, I’m sending him after you.”
“Go for it. Get some sleep.”
He turns and before he can stop himself, Rodney calls out to him. Ronon turns, brow raised in question. “Who… who’s sitting with John? I just mean… well, he doesn’t like the infirmary and--.”
“McKay,” Ronon says again. “We’ve got him, alright? Get some sleep.”
Rodney’s shoulders slump miserably as he nods and then disappears into his room.
Twenty seven hours, twenty three minutes and four seconds after John had a grand mal seizure in the corridor leading to the East Pier, Rodney finally, reluctantly, lays down.
Two minutes and forty five seconds later, which is the amount of time that Jeannie had seized that first awful time, Rodney gives into sleep.
It’s real fun at first and they’re quick to develop a routine, something he’s really been missing since Mom died. Ronon lets him tag along on his early morning runs until John’s legs get too tired, and then he picks up him and runs the rest of the way with John clinging to his back, trying (and failing) not to giggle the whole time.
They meet Teyla in the mess and Ms. Andrews always makes sure to save John some of that milk from the not-cow on the mainland with a little bit of the chocolate she keeps for special occasions. He eats with Teyla and Ronon before he heads down to the gym to watch them spar.
It’s always funny when Teyla manages to kick Ronon’s butt, even though Ronon teases that it’s only because he lets her. John thinks it’s funny because he knows it’s not true. He thinks Teyla could probably kick anyone’s butt.
Sometimes, they take him down to Rodney’s lab and John still thinks Rodney doesn’t like him very much but he also doesn’t get as mad anymore when John asks questions about what he’s working on.
After dinner, he goes back to Teyla’s room and he takes a shower that’s always the right temperature before he settles down to bed, the quiet humming of the city in his mind.
This morning though, Teyla’s gone to the mainland and John sits miserably in the mess with Ronon and Rodney, barely touching his breakfast. His head hurts again and Teyla’s real good at cuddling when him when it does and--.
“Hey,” Rodney says and he snaps his fingers in John’s direction. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with him?”
“Shut up, McKay,” Ronon growls and he leans across the table to catch John’s eye. “Hey little man, what’s wrong?”
But John’s not supposed to be sad, he’s supposed to be a big boy and he wasn’t and that’s why he’s here while Dad and Davey aren’t and John just misses her, misses Mom and it’s easy to not miss her as much with Teyla, but she’s not here. She’s not here like Mom’s not here, like Dad and Davey aren’t here and he won’t look at Rodney or Ronon because he doesn’t want them to know that he wants to cry.
“Perhaps we should…” Rodney gestures to the rest of the mess and John doesn’t know what he means but Ronon does and so he stands, reaching for John’s hand.
“C’mon,” Ronon says just when it’s starting to get hard to breathe and John doesn’t even realize Rodney’s following them too until they spill outside onto a pier. He doesn’t know why, but this place feels really familiar.
“Why here?” Rodney asks, mouth turned down in a frown and John thinks briefly that Rodney frowns way too much and he also thinks that that’s maybe his fault somehow which only adds to his misery.
“I dunno,” Ronon grumbles quietly. “He comes out here sometimes when things are hard, right?”
Ronon walks over toward the edge of the pier and he gestures for John, maybe Rodney too if Rodney actually wants to come and surprisingly he does, plopping down next to John until he’s sandwiched in between the two of them.
“What’s wrong?” Ronon asks again, and he bumps John’s shoulder with his.
“I miss my mom,” he says, his voice cracking before he reaches up and swipes angrily at the tears that have started to fall. He’s not supposed to cry. Dad would be so mad if he saw him now, but now that the dam’s opened, John doesn’t know how he’s going to stop because he just wants her again.
“This…” Rodney says, “is so far out of my area of expertise,” but Ronon tells him to be quiet.
“It’s okay to be upset, little man,” but it’s not and he shakes his head as Ronon drops an arm around his shoulder, John going against his side easily.
“My dad says--.”
“Yes well, your father is an idiot and I don’t even have to know the man to know that,” Rodney says viciously. “No wonder you’re so emotionally constipated, for Christ’s sake. Is this when that started?” John swipes his hand over his face again and then Rodney’s patting his hand and he looks like maybe he doesn’t hate John as much as he did that morning. “If you want to be sad, then you be sad. Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re not allowed to be. Do you understand?”
“But--.”
“But nothing,” Rodney says. “Do you understand?”
“…yes.”
“Good,” he says and he pushes himself up from where he’s seated, snapping at John and Ronon like maybe he wants them to follow him. “Well? Sometime today.”
“Where are we going?”
“There’s something I want to show you,” he says. “Perhaps it’ll take your mind off of… things.” John and Ronon stand and follow after Rodney as Rodney taps his ear comm. “McKay to Weir.”
“Go ahead Rodney.”
“Ronon and I are taking a Jumper to the Mainland. Don’t let Zelenka blow anything up while I’m gone.”
Ronon raises an eyebrow but Rodney doesn’t even look at him. “Sheppard,” he says and John forgets for a second that Rodney’s talking to him.
“How do you feel about flying?”
---
“I heard what you did for John today,” Elizabeth says quietly as she sidles up to Rodney where he’s standing on the balcony outside of the Gate Room, peering up Lantea’s bright moon. She holds out a cup of coffee as an offering. “Although I’m not so sure I agree with you letting him fly the Jumper, that was still very kind of you.”
“Yes, well,” Rodney says but he doesn’t turn the coffee down, “I suppose it’s about time someone did something nice
for him. Did you know that his father told him he’s not allowed to be upset about his mother dying?”
“No,” Elizabeth says, taking a drink of her own tea, leaning against the railing, “but it’s not surprising. John is how he is for a reason.”
“This is… this is exactly what I was afraid of,” Rodney says and she can hear the anger in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
“This… learning these things about him like this! What happens when he turns back? How am I supposed to pretend I don’t know all of these things about him when he keeps them so closely guarded?!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t pretend then,” Elizabeth offers. “I know that this isn’t easy for you, but perhaps the two of you will come through this even stronger than you already were.” She reaches for Rodney’s hand, squeezing his knuckles gently.
“He chose you, Rodney. He chose you and Ronon, Teyla. All of you. From the moment he woke up, he’s gravitated toward you all. You’re safe. You’re home. I don’t believe, even at six years old, that he would’ve told you how he was feeling if he didn’t trust you to help him through it.”
“Maybe,” Rodney mutters and Elizabeth pulls away finally, having spoken her peace.
“How are you doing finding something that can help this?”
“Terribly,” Rodney answers with a loud sigh. “The database is so large, but there’s still part of it that’s corrupted from that Wraith virus. Zelenka and I are trying to open what we can, but it’s… well. Slow going.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Elizabeth says. “Try not to stay out here too long.”
She’s almost to the door when his voice stops her, so unsure of himself that he almost doesn’t sound like Rodney. “He’s… what if he closes off again? When he’s back to being him. What if he realizes how much he’s given away and then just… takes it all back?”
“He won’t,” Elizabeth promises. “He loves you and I don’t believe that there’s anything in two galaxies that could ever change that.”
Rodney nods but doesn’t speak again. Elizabeth wonders if he’s realized how John still looks at him like he’s the one who’s hung all of the stars in the sky.
Probably not, if she has to guess. One day, she thinks, the two of them will finally figure out what the rest of the expedition already knows: John Sheppard and Rodney McKay would always and forever go to the ends of the Earth for one another and nothing, especially not a piece of problematic Ancient tech, could ever change that.
They’re sitting the mess hall much later that evening, Teyla at John’s side while him and Ronon stare at one another across the table. John’s got his chin propped up on his hands, unblinking, as the Satedan regards him with something close to amusement as their staring contest continues.
Boys, she thinks fondly.
Elizabeth had voiced her concerns initially that perhaps someone of Ronon’s… stature would be frightening for John in his current state, but Teyla knew better. Ronon was always something of a hit off-world when children were involved and besides that, just as John had trusted Teyla immediately, she is certain that it will be no different than Ronon.
The things they’ve been through together could never be erased and even if John consciously does not remember him, she thinks perhaps that there is a part of him that remembers that they are family.
“While this has been remarkable entertaining,” Teyla announces and Ronon blinks finally, laughing loudly at the victorious look on John’s face, “I believe John still needs to finish his dinner.”
She looks pointedly at the tray in front of him and John sighs loudly, but he picks up his fork and pokes at the not-chicken, but a moment later, his eyes shift back to Ronon who promptly makes a face.
John dissolves into a fit of giggles and Teyla finds herself hard pressed not to smile. Ronon would have made an excellent father had this galaxy given him the chance.
“Well,” a familiar voice says scathingly, “isn’t this cozy.”
“Hello Rodney,” Teyla greets before she turns to see him standing there, hands gripping his own tray so tightly that his knuckles have turned white. “Perhaps you would like to join us?”
“No.” She raises a brow at him, because Teyla has never tolerated Rodney’s bad manners and Rodney wilts just a bit. “Which is to say… I need to get back to the lab so I can keep working to fix… this.”
“C’mon, McKay,” Ronon says as he drops his pudding cup onto John’s tray with a wink, “sit down.”
Teyla can see that he’s anxious to flee, clearly uncomfortable with the miniature Colonel Sheppard but finally, he sits down on the opposite side of Ronon, frowning at the boy.
“John,” Teyla says, settling a hand on the back of his chair, “this is our friend Rodney.”
“Actually,” Rodney says, shoving a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth, “it’s Doctor McKay. Always Doctor McKay until you’re—” he gestures broadly in John’s general direction, “you again.”
“Whaddya mean? I am me. I’m John.”
“You’re a munchkin.”
“I’m the tallest in my class. Even taller than Joseph Saddler and--.”
“Mm. Nope, sorry, don’t care.”
“Rodney,” Teyla admonishes and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t possibly be the only one who thinks this is incredibly weird. Like, weird, even for this galaxy weird. Forgive me if the thought of my—of him speaking so familiarly with me in his current stategives me the creeps.”
“Don’t listen to him, little man,” Ronon says and he leans back in his chair, glancing over Rodney. “He’s just mad that Andrews gave you the last blue Jell-o instead of him.”
“That is absolutely--.”
“Here,” John says as he plucks the Jell-O off of his tray and holds it out to Rodney, blinking up at him. “I don’t even like the blue kind. ‘m not sure why I asked for it. You can have it.”
Teyla shares a look with the two other men; John had always made sure to grab Rodney’s favorite dessert when they arrived before he did.
Rodney sits, frozen, not reaching for the cup but then Ronon reaches out to pluck it from John’s hand, dropping it onto the other’s tray.
“That is very kind of you, John,” Teyla says, dropping a hand into his hair. “Rodney, what do you say?”
“I--. I have to go.”
He stands up so quickly that his chair very nearly tips back before Ronon grabs it to keep it from clattering to the floor and then he’s gone, fleeing the mess as if it’s on fire.
John’s turned, glancing after him and when he turns back around, he’s frowning unhappily.
“He doesn’t like me.”
“I can assure you, little one,” Teyla says gently, “Rodney likes you very much. He just has a very difficult time showing it sometimes.”
John does not look convinced.
---
It’s late and Ronon makes it a habit not to come down here much unless he’s with Sheppard. John, however, is currently with Teyla, preparing for bed and Ronon figures that someone needs to talk some sense into McKay before he crosses paths with Mini Sheppard again.
His hands are in the pockets of his pants as he steps into the lab and he’s not surprised to find McKay alone. Most of the other scientists keep fairly normal hours, but even on his best day, Rodney would spend the entire night down here unless someone came to drag him away.
Usually, that was Sheppard.
“You can’t be a jerk to him,” Ronon says by way of greeting and he takes a little satisfaction in the way McKay jumps, clearly startled.
“Could you not with the sneaking up thing,” but he’s not quite as snappy as he was earlier so Ronon figures this whole thing is finally settling in. It’s a good thing though; the sooner Rodney gets used to
their current predicament, the sooner he can get past it and channel all of his energy into actually fixing it. He works best under pressure or threat of death, they all know that, but only when Sheppard is there to help him channel that fear into something productive.
Without Sheppard, McKay is floundering.
“I wasn’t being a jerk to him.”
“You were.”
“I was speaking to him just as I would if he was himself.”
“He’s not himself. He’s a kid and as far as he knows, he’s stuck in some weird place with no one he knows.”
“I’m sorry if I find it a little difficult to deal with the fact that my boyfriend has regressed both physically and mentally to his six year old self, okay?!”
“Sheppard would deal with it if it was for you,” Ronon reminds him, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’d deal with it for all of us, so yeah, it’s weird, but we gotta suck it up and deal with it until you can fix it.”
“What if I can’t?” Rodney asks then, shoulders slumping miserably and Ronon comes closer, dropping a hand to his shoulder.
“If anyone can, it’s you, alright?”
“…when did you get so chatty?” Rodney asks finally, frowning up at him and Ronon laughs out loud at that.
“I always have been when I got somethin’ to say.” He squeezes McKay’s shoulder again. “It’ll be alright in the end.”
“And if it’s not?”
“Then it’s not the end.”
The first thing he thinks about is how bad his head hurts. It reminds him of the days right after Mom when things were just too hard, even though Dad said he had to be tough and he tried so hard but it gave him a headache to try not to cry.
That’s what this is like.
He opens his eyes and blinks up at the dim lights above him, the familiar sound of machines beeping filling his ears and he feels something stuck in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He knows those sounds, the same ones he heard when Mom couldn’t fight anymore and had to leave him and Davey behind. But why does he hear them now? Maybe… what if…
He bolts upright in the bed because maybe Dad was wrong! Maybe Mom was still fighting because she said, she said that she’d always be with him and Aunt Kim had explained that she just meant she’d be watching out for him from Heaven, but he knew she didn’t want to leave him, so maybe…
“Mom?” He’s quiet because he knows he has to be in the hospital; Dad told him that all the time. That’s why Davey couldn’t come because he’s a baby and he’s never quiet, but John could and--
“Hello, John.”
It’s not Mom. It’s another lady with pretty tanned skin and nice eyes and she’s smiling at him like she’s happy to see him. It makes his heart hurt; no one smiles at him like that anymore.
“I don’t—where am I?”
“You’re in the infirmary here in Atlantis,” she says. “Do you remember Atlantis?”
John remembers a lot of things, like Mom’s favorite color and the smell of the baby shampoo she used to buy for Davey until she couldn’t be the one to give him baths anymore, but he doesn’t remember Atlantis, but it sounds like a place.
“No,” he answers and he tugs his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and the thing is back in his throat again that he can’t really breathe around. “Is… did my Dad send me here?” Because it’s just Dad now and John knows that Davey is just a baby who still needs a parent, but John… maybe Dad couldn’t keep him too.
“Just for a visit,” the lady says and she holds her hand out to him so he reaches for it carefully like maybe he’s afraid she’s going to pull it away again. “My name is Teyla and I know this must be very scary for you, John, but I promise, you’re safe here.”
He swallows hard but he feels a little more brave with her holding his hand so he allows his gaze to shift, to take in the room around him. It’s sort of like the hospitals room Mom had been in and out of and he doesn’t like it. He wonders if he’s sick too; maybe that’s why he’s here or maybe it’s just because he was a bad boy, maybe he did something wrong and Dad had to send him away and he doesn’t realize that he sniffles until Teyla squeezes his hand like Mom used to.
“I would like for you to meet a friend of mine, John. His name is Carson and he would just like to talk to you for a moment. Would that be okay?”
“I… am I in trouble?” Because if he’s done something wrong enough to be left here, he figures it must be bad and maybe he’ll never be allowed to go home again.
“Of course not,” she says and she smooths a hand through his hair and he closes his eyes against the feeling. “You just had a little bump on your head, that’s all. Perhaps that is why you do not remember Atlantis, and that is okay but I’d really like for Carson to make sure you’re alright. Is that okay with you?”
He knows it’s not polite to tell grown ups no, she nods and when she pulls his hand away from him, he reaches for it because he just wants something to hold on but he’s not quick enough. He’s not quick enough and she’s going to go away and--.
Why does everyone always leave him?
---
She can’t imagine how scary this must be for him.
There’d been tears in John’s eyes when Teyla returned with Carson after the briefest of moments and as soon as they were within reach of one another, she’d reached for his hand, which he’s been clinging to since.
She doesn’t mind though. She sits on the edge of his bed, his small hands clasped in hers as Carson does a brief check up now that John is awake. It’s always nice to see the doctor with children and she thinks that perhaps there could be no one better suited for this as by the time he is finished, John’s still holding her hand but not quite so tightly.
“Well,” Carson says as he reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a red lollipop for John, “he’s healthy and other than the obvious, there still seems to be no deleterious effects. I’ll get with Rodney, see if he’s found anything in the database but for now, lad,” he ‘boops’ John on the nose, “I think we’re done here.”
“Will you speak with Elizabeth?” Teyla asks. “Advise her of your findings… or lack thereof.”
“Aye,” and he smiles at Teyla. “Not to worry, young lady. I’m most certain that Rodney’ll have this figured out in no time.”
Teyla does not doubt that; she knows how strongly Rodney feels for John and though he’d attempted to hide just how concerned he’d been once the change had taken place, Teyla knows that it hurts him more than he lets on.
She always believes in Rodney, but her faith is strongest when it concerns John.
She turns back to the boy in question who is still taking everything in with bright
hazel eyes, looking a bit overwhelmed.
“While Carson speaks with our friend Doctor McKay, perhaps you could come with me, John? We’ll get you something to eat and then we’ll go down to the theater room to eat. You’ve always enjoyed it there.”
“Like… like a movie theater?”
“Exactly,” she says and she rises, gesturing for John and he’s quick to hop down, his fingers still clasped tightly around hers. “The city is very large and there are many people,” she says as she leads him to the panel doors which slide open a bit easier than they had just for her, “but there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Can I… can I stay with you?”
“I would like that very much,” she says and she thinks she sees some of the tension leaves his tiny shoulders as he falls into step beside her, the hallways of Atlantis illuminating for him as they walk as she always has.
She wonders briefly if this small boy has felt it yet, the way the city responds to his very presence.
She wonders…for him, even as strange as all this must be, if it feels yet like home.
Behold! Part one of my "Rodney Moved To Mongolia After Trinity" Fic!
Rodney blinked blearily at the apparition on his doorstep.
“Mongolia, Rodney?” said Radek, arms crossed. “Mongolia?”
“Oh, shut up.” Rodney grouched, opening the door wider. And get in here, it’s freezing.”
As that was no more than the truth, Radek obeyed, and within moments was sitting at Rodney’s little wooden table, coffee in hand. It was a nice little kitchen, Radek thought, surprised. He had only known Rodney in government labs, where the scientists were fed and looked after by various members of the military; to Radek, Rodney’s home ground came with flashing lights and a vague electric hum. This old, warm, soviet era kitchen was more like what Radek had grown up with, devoid of flashing or beeping, and what hum there was came only from the fridge in the corner. In point of fact, when Rodney had given him the 2-minute tour of his small, square home, Radek realized that there was only one computer in the whole place, and the television was dusty. He also wasn’t expecting the soup Rodney thrust in front of him after he has sat down—a milky combination of tea, salt, noodles, and meat that smelled much better than it looked. At Radek’s look, Rodney merely shrugged and explained, “It isn’t bad. Filling.”
Mongolia had clearly improved Rodney’s manners (or perhaps he was just tired), because he let Radek get halfway through his breakfast before demanding why, exactly, he was bothering Rodney now; who was looking after Atlantis; and whether it was still afloat, or if Radek had succeeded in blowing it up entirely.
“The city is fine. I am bothering you, as you have put it, because you must come back. No, shut up and listen. I am tired. Simpson despises being department head. I am tired of doing your job, and its incessant paperwork. I have assigned Miko to AR-1, which leaves one less person in the labs when something happens. I have not slept well in months. You have been allowed your sulk. It is time to put Arcturus aside.”
But Rodney was shaking his head as Radek spoke. “No. If Elizabeth can’t trust me to do my job—and I’m not saying she was wrong—then the whole command structure breaks down, and you know it—”
Before Radek could argue, there was a loud thump from somewhere. Startled, Radek nearly spilled his coffee—mysterious thumps only ever signified trouble, in his experience—but Rodney only smiled. And while that was strange enough, what was stranger was the giant, furry beast that padded into the room, looked directly at Radek, and was instantly on alert.
“Er, Rodney—”
Rodney said something, presumably in Mongolian, and the dog—was it a dog? — relaxed with a huff, thumping toward the food bowl Radek hadn’t noticed and eating noisily. Radek looked at Rodney for an explanation.
“Her name’s Jird. She belonged to a friend of mine, but he couldn’t keep her—she can’t herd anymore, you see. Too old, and she has a bad leg. Which is logical, I suppose, she can’t very well chase after wolves and whatever else is out there. What if something happened? She’s a good girl, well trained. We’ll have to take her running today, of course—that’s the trouble with these herding breeds, they’re high energy, not really meant to be pets as such, but Altan asked. She’s a Bankhar, you know. Very rare animals these days, but they’ve got a breeding program all set up—” Mongolia certainly hadn’t stolen Rodney’s tongue. He talked about the history of the bankhar, about endangered ecosystems, about herding, about how he had to run everyday to keep Jird from destroying his apartment, how she liked the smell of gasoline but needed muzzling in the shop so she wouldn’t lick the antifreeze—and Radek listened, and kept listening, even while they stood in Rodney’s yard where Rodney was throwing a frisbee for his dog, Rodney had a dog, and a little house and apparently a mechanic’s shop in Ulaanbaatar, of all places, and a life so much safer and more ordinary than Rodney Mckay deserved. It was intolerable. Radek wouldn’t stand for it.
“Ronon would enjoy your dog. He could take her running and save you the trouble of it. The IOA would even allow it, I think. I am owed a favour, and so are you.”
“No. No, Radek. Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the CSO position. I know you never actually wanted it.
But I have a life here. I don’t blow up solar systems, it’s quiet, I’m sleeping at night finally. And really, what sort of place is Atlantis for Jird? I couldn’t give her up—I know what you’re thinking, and the IOA would never allow it. They wouldn’t even let me bring Curie, and she was small.”
Curie had been four years and six months ago. In some ways, Curie had been a lifetime ago, and clearly Rodney didn’t realize how well Elizabeth could manipulate the IOA, if it suited her. Radek tried another tack. “Your team misses you. The colonel especially, I think. Elizabeth would settle matters regarding Jird, and Carson would approve. You know how he is about therapy animals.”
Rodney whistled for Jird. “Carson’s opinions aside, It’s better this way. Now, come on. If you’re here anyway, you may as well see the sights.”
Radek did “see the sights”, and more importantly for Atlantis, saw Rodney. He seemed, if not happier, more settled — “Therapy, and I’ve got mood stabilizers now.” The old restless energy remained, but it was muted, less frenetic. He complained less, and was less relentlessly critical, although some of Radek’s solutions to various Atlantean problems were still ruthlessly pulled apart and dissected. Rodney was still very much himself in some ways, and Radek realized that he had missedRodney.
And by the time Radek left (with an assortment of souvenirs for everyone, and photographs, and admonitions about power management), Radek began to work on Plan B.
Summary: In which Rodney is very much not happy when his boyfriend suddenly finds himself six years old again, courtesy of those wacky Ancients.
I, I'm a new day rising
I'm a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
Do I stay or run away
And leave it all behind?
“Unscheduled off-world activation!”
The sound of the Gate activating tears through the control tower, startling Elizabeth from her office. There’s only one team off-world and they weren’t due back for another day and a half, their next scheduled check in much later that evening.
“Who is it?”
“I’m reading Teyla’s IDC, ma’am,” Chuck says and Elizabeth gestures for him to open up a channel, arms crossed over her chest as she waits for Chuck’s nod.
“Teyla,” she greets, “a little early for your check in. Everything alright?”
There’s a muffled response that sounds suspiciously like Rodney before Teyla speaks, and though her voice is calm, the entire tower can pick up on the slightest bit of concern in her tone. “We have run into a… bit of a problem,” she hesitates and Elizabeth nods for Chuck to lower the shield.
“Is anyone hurt?”
“Not exactly, but perhaps it would be best to explain to you in person.”
“The shield’s down. Come on through.”
“Very well.” Another pause. “Elizabeth… it might be wise if you have Doctor Beckett on standby.”
“We’ll have a medical team brought in immediately.”
“Not a full team,” Teyla warns. “Just Doctor Beckett will suffice.”
There’s another beat, Elizabeth’s head cocking to the side as she considers. “What exactly are we dealing with?”
“If I told you now, you wouldn’t believe me. We are coming through the Gate.”
The radio cuts off and less than a moment later, AR-1 steps through the event horizon, or at least three of them do. Elizabeth comes down the stairs, eyes scanning her people for any sign of illness or injury as she waits for Beckett and for John, but the event horizon closes and something catches in her throat.
“Where’s Colonel Sheppard?”
Teyla and Ronon share a look and for the first time, she notices the lump in Ronon’s arms, covered with a jacket.
“In case you’ve missed the memo,” Rodney snaps, gesturing broadly to Ronon, “this entire fucking galaxy is littered with stupid machines courtesy of those wacky Ancients that have horrible, no good, completely asinine purposes and so here we are.”
“Rodney,” Teyla admonishes gently.
They’re all saved a response with Carson arrives, looking a bit confused and Elizabeth can sympathize, because she still has no idea what’s going on. “I’ll ask again,” she says, keeping her voice even, “where is Colonel Sheppard?”
Rodney moves as if to pull the jacket from Ronon’s arms, but Teyla stops him with a hand to his chest and very carefully, gently, she pulls it back to reveal a small child with a crop of dark, unruly hair. He’s asleep (or unconscious, likely, given how the commotion has not woken him), long lashes brushing against pale cheeks.
“Bloody hell!”
“Is that--?”
“Colonel Sheppard, yes,” Teyla finishes, tucking the jacket around the tiny body again, hiding him from view. “I am certain that the Colonel would appreciate it if we could move our discussion from the gate room.” She settles a hand on Ronon’s shoulder as Carson steps forward as if to get another, closer look at the boy, but he must see something on Ronon’s face that stops him short.
“Right. Er… c’mon then, bring the lad this way. We’ll get him to the infirmary, under some scans and find out exactly what we’re dealin’ with.”
“What we’re dealing with is another example of how it’s not actually the Wraith that are the bad guys in this narrative, but the Ancients,” Rodney says scathingly and while the team sets off for the infirmary, he starts in the opposite direction, intent on locking himself in his lab until all of this blows over.
Or at least intent on scouring the database to figure out what he needs to piece that god damned machine back together after Ronon blasted it into six million pieces.
Easy.
---
They all wait with baited breath as the scanner makes another pass over the little boy—over John, she has to remind herself. He’s still unconscious and the circles under his eyes look darker now in the harsh infirmary light and Elizabeth crosses her eyes, never pulling her eyes away.
“Okay,” she says, lifting a hand to chew on her thumbnail. “Walk me through this again. You were exploring an Ancient outpost.”
Ronon growls in frustration, hands digging into his dreads at the thought of having to go through this again, but Teyla remains unbothered.
“Correct. Rodney was picking up a strong energy signal. The outpost was empty, but there was a machine in the very center of a large dais, pulsating. Once Rodney determined that it was the cause of the signal, he decided that perhaps we should get a closer look, fearful that it might have been similar to the one on M1B-129.”
“The one that caused the hallucinations.”
“Exactly.” Teyla’s eyes returned to the boy’s face before she continued. “John stepped up onto the dias to get a better look and the next thing we knew, he was surrounded by a blue light, screaming.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then I shot it,” Ronon answers.
“You shot it,” Elizabeth repeats.
“Uh huh. And I’d do it again. We had no way of knowing what it was doing to him, but he needed help and we needed to get him out of there.” It’s almost as if dares Elizabeth to challenge his decision, though she thinks after studying his face for just a moment, perhaps he’s reconsidering himself.
“Yes, well,” Teyla says, reaching to settle a hand on Ronon’s wrist as if to calm him. “Once the machine shut down and the blue light dissipated, John was… well.”
“Do we have any idea what this has actually done to him?” Elizabeth asks and she glances at Carson for answers, but he has none. “Is he still… him? Will he have his memories or--?”
“He has been unconscious since the machine shut down,” Teyla answers. “We are not sure exactly what the outcome will be.”
“His scans look good,” Carson answers, sighing as the machine comes to a stop. “Well. For a six year old boy, anyway. I see no ill effects from the machine, other than the obvious, but until the lad wakes, we won’t truly know what we’re dealin’ with.”
“But he will, right? Wake up?”
“I see no reason why he shouldn’t. But perhaps we ought to prepare for the worst. There’s a chance that he’ll wake up and have no idea where he is or who any of us are. Perhaps we should clear out, leave one person in here to lessen the confusion or fear.”
“I’ll do it,” Ronon answers immediately, and Elizabeth is unsure of the most delicate way to thank him for his offer while gently declining. Thankfully, Teyla speaks up again.
“No,” she answers and she smiles up at Ronon before she turns her attention back to John. “I will stay. Why don’t you go find Rodney and see if he’s managed to find anything in the database that could possibly provide answers as to what’s happened to John, but importantly, how to reverse it.”
“I’m going to send a team back through,” Elizabeth decides. “See if we can find any spare parts that weren’t destroyed that we may be able to use to retrofit one of the Ancient devices here.”
“Aye,” Carson agrees. “Teyla, if he wakes—”
“You’ll be the first to know, Carson.” And he gives her a smile, dropping a hand to her shoulder to squeeze gently. “Perhaps,” she says as he moves to take his leave, “you would be able to dim the lights? It may be startling with the bright lights once he wakes.”
“Of course, love,” and then he’s gone, leaving Elizabeth and Teyla alone.
“Never a dull day in the Pegasus Galaxy,” Elizabeth tries to joke, but she feels like it falls short when the child on the bed snuffles and turns his head to the side, face relaxing just a bit as the lights in the infirmary dim. “Keep me posted, okay?”
“Of course, Elizabeth,” Teyla replies graciously and as Elizabeth takes her leave, she thinks she hears Teyla humming something quietly… almost like a lullaby.
The second Rodney rounds the corner, something smashes into his face. Before he can even identify it theres an explosion of pain, his vision is eclipsed with static before, as he hits the ground, nothing but a blissful midnight black.
When he comes to his face is sticky, his mouth tastes like he sucked on an old penny, and John is looming over him, tight-lipped and pale as he winces. “Hey buddy,” he says apologetically, like this is his fault somehow.
Rodney moves his jaw, which feels misaligned but is somehow still in working order. “Ok…dizzy,” he says, lifting a hand to clumsily scrub across his face, “fuck, never mind, not ok. I think—”
“Yeah, um, your nose is probably broken,”John interrupts, cocking his head, still a little bleary around the edges as he swims in Rodney’s line of vision. “Ronon sort of clocked you with a two by four. We thought you were the guy who stole our weapons.”
Ronon appears next to John. “We were wrong,” he adds. “Sorry.”
“You broke my fucking nose?!” Rodney snaps, the throbbing smack dab in the middle of his otherwise numb face suddenly making horrible sense. He tries to sit up, but John pushes him back down, hand big and warm and firm on his shoulder. “I had a beautiful nose!” Rodney laments. “IIt was one of my better features! Who just hits a guy with a fucking piece of wood before checking if he’s actually an assailant or—”
“Sheppard ordered it,” Ronon says with a shrug, and John shoots him a dirty, betrayed expression before turning back to Rodney, who he has not let up from the floor.
“Look, it’s not that bad. Carson is gonna fix you up just like new, ok?” he pleads. “And hey, if it makes you feel better, Teyla just radioed in a minute ago and she actually got out weapons back!”
“She hit the guy with a lead pipe and he’s dead now,” Ronon says. “So, consider yourself lucky.”
“Fuck you both,” Rodney mumbles, closing his eyes, and his voice is still venom-sharp, but John is gently, guiltily mopping up blood from his cheekbones with the hem of his shirt and it feels really nice, so. He’s not as mad about the whole thing as he could be.
I love the fact that Rodney mentions to John in a previous episode he does like chess but has a hard time finding challenging opponents, and big surprise, secret-genius-John is of course more than a match for our dear Dr. McKay. x3
Also John being all nonchalant and Rodney all flustered is such a cute and classic McShep dynamic. Love these dorks. lol
Never tire of seeing them enjoyable spending time together. Only wish we'd seen more of them in their down time and moments like this. ♡
