Not Quite An Explosion by lavvyan
Spoilers: Tag to Inferno, so spoilers up to and including that episode.
Summary: Rodney's had enough -- John doesn't quite get it.
AN: Written for challenge #007A on artword: write a story from two different POVs. The incredibly shiny covers are by smuffster. Dialogues up to and including the debriefing were taken directly from the episode Inferno.
Not Quite An Explosion
Rodney
Stars.
Rodney stared out of the Orion's large front windows, disorientation numbing him for a second as he realised that the volcano must have erupted no more than half a minute after he had finished the last of his programming, the lava and his hyperspace window catapulting them into orbit.
Space. They had made it.
"It worked!"
Carson's shaky voice from somewhere behind him, and yes, of course it had worked. He'd never had any doubt, naturally, and any second now there'd be a 'Well done, Rodney' from Sheppard, or at least a 'Thank you' from Carson.
Really. Any second now.
"You really are a genius, Rodney."
Well yes, he was. How nice of Norina to finally acknowledge that, since she'd probably been too busy making googly eyes at Sheppard to be appropriately awed by Rodney's many talents, and thank you for that, Colonel won't-let-the-scientist-get-a-single-space-bimbette. But, seriously, this was it? Dr. Rodney McKay, pulling a rabbit out of his as- astonishing hat, he had meant to say, saving everyone's life yet again, and the only one to remark on it was the alien?
They were kidding, right?
They weren't. Oh God, they weren't, it was always like this; how had he not seen that before, was he blind? Every time he did something like this, he was lucky if he got so much as a pat on the shoulder, and wow, did that suck.
"Rodney?"
Norina's question was distracting him, pulling him away from his thoughts, and perhaps he should just let it go, ignore the glaring lack of appreciation and simply do his work, except…
"I'm good."
He wasn't. He really, really wasn't.
With a sharp crack of static, the radio switched on.
"This is the Daedalus. Are there any survivors aboard?"
"Yes, sir," Sheppard answered Caldwell's question, sounding both stunned and proud. "In fact, we have a very big passenger list."
Sure they did, and who would once again get to be the hero and receive all the congratulations? The guy who had spent his time running around outside. And now that Rodney knew just how typical that was, he started to feel… well, righteous anger would be a bit of an exaggeration, but yes, there seemed to be a certain amount of… resentment.
And to his slight surprise, it didn't really go away. Rodney had never been one to carry a grudge, regarding them as a waste of time, so this experience of lasting annoyance was… irritating. They were well into the debriefing by now, and still no one had thought it necessary to stop for a second and say, 'And by the way, Rodney: good job.'
Then again, they never did, did they? Perhaps with a little prodding.
"The explosion was every bit as destructive as I feared," he said, reminding them of the fate the Taranians had barely escaped. "The ash clouds encircled the entire planet."
"Will the Taranian people ever be able to go home?"
Hello? Half the continent was gone and the planet was at the threshold of a volcano-induced ice age; of course they wouldn't be able to go home! And way to go off topic, Teyla!
"Not for many years, I'm afraid," Carson sighed, like all those homeless aliens were his very own burden to carry.
"We found a planet that Chancellor Lycus feels is suitable for them. We're going to start relocating people there." Elizabeth nodded at Sheppard. "I'd like you and your team to assist them. Just to make sure the relocation goes smooth."
Which probably meant seeing to it that Rodney got them all settled down with a nice, familiar level of technology, right after he had finished his work of repairing a ten thousand year old, broken down, Ancient warship in less than twenty-four hours. He felt the anger bubbling up again, a bit like that time when he had been high on the enzyme.
It might be better for all if he left now.
"I'll take a repair team back to the Orion, get the engines fixed."
"Thought you told Norina you couldn't fix it." Sheppard, and that just wasn't fair.
"It was never a question of whether or not I could fix it, it-"
Smirking. Smirking. Oh yes, let's bait the scientist, thank you very much, Colonel. Sheppard was probably afraid that he'd lost face, having told his conquest of the day that Rodney would fix her damn engines, just trust him – Rodney still wasn't sure if Sheppard had left the radio on for him to hear that on purpose. It was apparently Rodney's calling, to be John Sheppard's very own one-man repair team; good man, patches up everything, it's all he ever does anyway. A real riot, eh?
Fuck you.
"Work as quickly as you can, Rodney," Elizabeth told him, like he ever did anything else. "The chancellor has graciously allowed us to use the ship, in exchange for our help."
"I assume there's still a Hiveship on the way?" Caldwell wanted to know.
"Yes," Radek answered shortly, giving Ronon the time to ask a stupid question of his own: "Why only one ship?"
"We don't know," Elizabeth replied. "Maybe they're just coming to prove we're still here, but if they manage to do that…" She trailed off.
"Well, at least we've got the Orion now, and the city's supply of drones has been replenished," Caldwell stated, always the military man.
"That's enough to put up one hell of a fight," Sheppard agreed.
Rodney rolled his eyes. Oh yes, and In God We Trust, very realistic.
"Let's not fool ourselves," he interrupted the self-congratulation. "If they come in full force, and there's no reason to believe that they won't this time, then, I'm sorry, but-"
"It's not going to be enough," Elizabeth finished for him, and everybody fell quiet. "It's all we've got."
He knew that, and for now, it was only one ship; more than manageable with the combined forces of the Daedalus, the Orion, and Atlantis itself. They just needed Rodney to fix the Orion's engines, and they were good to go. Or well, perhaps not needed Rodney as much as someone who could oversee the work of the engineers, something Radek was perfectly capable of, and Rodney wouldn't admit it out loud, but the Czech knew almost as much about Atlantis as he himself.
The realisation didn't hit him as much as it slowly rolled over him with all the gentleness of a freight car going downhill. No matter how often Rodney emphasised that he was the smartest person in this city – and yes, there wasn't much Radek could do that Rodney couldn't do faster – Atlantis didn't really need him.
And he didn't want to be needed by them. Not anymore.
Huh. Well. Then there was no real reason to stay, was there?
The debriefing seemed just about finished, and Rodney figured this was as good a time as any. Never let it be said that he was stalling.
"Well, if we're all done here, I'd like to add something." They all turned towards him with expectant gazes. "Once the Hiveship is gone, I'll return to Earth aboard the Daedalus. Consider this my official resignation."
They couldn't have looked more shocked if he'd suggested they collaborate with the Wraith from now on. Elizabeth was the first to recover.
"You'll have to admit that this is a little sudden."
"I've been thinking about it for quite some time now. This is as good an opportunity as any."
"The hell, McKay?" Sheppard seemed to struggle for words, staring incredulously at Rodney. Well, the good Colonel was a rather hands-on kind of guy, wasn't he? Words had never been his forte.
"I'm aware that this is rather short notice, but I'm convinced you will manage. Radek, make sure you stop by before my departure, there are some notes I'll have to copy for you. Now, if you'll excuse me? I have some engines to fix."
He left them stunned and speechless, a small satisfaction. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing that no one had tried to argue; then again, what had he expected? And whether they respected him or not, they'd have to respect his decision – Caldwell's presence had made his resignation as official as it could possibly get without being in writing.
"McKay!"
Familiar footsteps echoing in the corridor behind him; ah yes, of course, Colonel Sheppard would be trying to stop his repair boy from leaving. While Rodney naturally didn't have to justify himself, he figured he could humour the man, for old times sake, when they had still been working together instead of against each other.
"McKay! Wait up!"
Sheppard's expression was a mixture of disbelief and anger, something Rodney had grown used to being aimed at him.
"I don't think we need to discuss this, Colonel." Still, he stopped, only a few feet from the transporter.
"Well, too bad, because I think we do." Sheppard stared at him, probably going for intimidating, but that had stopped working on Rodney a long time ago. "What the hell brought this on?"
"Well, if you must know, I noticed a certain lack of acknowledgement that annoys me on both a professional and a personal level, so I figured I'd relocate somewhere my genius is actually appreciated."
"You want to leave Atlantis because we don't say thank you often enough? What are you, five?"
"I want to leave Atlantis because your doormat back on Earth was possibly treated better than I am! I get ridiculed, derided, and disparaged on a regular basis, more often than not by you, and frankly, I've had enough."
"You saying we don't treat you like you deserve?"
And this was Sheppard completely refusing to see his point, as usual; worse, the man was mocking him again, and suddenly, Rodney simply wanted to hurt him, to pay him back for all those times he'd been the butt of some careless joke. And he knew exactly what to say to get a reaction.
"I'm saying that I'm sick of you and your attitude, Colonel. You can run around waking the Wraith and screw up an entire galaxy, but I blow up a single solar system and you get to throw it in my face whenever you see fit? What the hell was that, bringing up Duranda on Taranis, did you want them to think I was a, a screw-up? You constantly put me down on that planet, you had no right to do that, and I apologised, several times, what more do you want me to do?"
"So now you're pouting? Suck it up, McKay!"
He knew exactly how to make Sheppard angry, make him lose that damn cocky flyboy composition.
"Oh, come on, you're hardly in the position to blame anyone for their mistakes! At least I didn't kill anyone!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Knew oh so well which buttons to push.
"You shot your commanding officer on your first day, and the next one didn't last significantly longer. A remarkable coincidence, isn't it?"
He should have known that Sheppard would react with physical violence once his words ran out. One moment he was getting into the Colonel's face, the next he was sitting on the cold floor, holding his numb jaw, staring up at the man who had just slugged him.
Well, so much for the remnants of that friendship.
Rodney stood up slowly, angrily pressing his lips together. The tingle in his jaw was beginning to turn into a dull throb, and while he was reasonably sure that nothing was broken, he'd better go see Carson right away. There was always the possibility of hairline fractures, or nerve damage, or even wandering blood clots that gave him a brain aneurysm, and wouldn't that be fun on his last day? Besides, there was obviously nothing left to say here.
Without another word, he turned his back on Sheppard, walking the few steps to reach the transporter and leaving the Colonel alone in the corridor.
Funny. After all that had happened between them, he still never would have thought that Sheppard would hurt him.
Carson asked if he should report the Colonel for assault on a civilian, but Rodney brushed the questions off. He had purposely provoked the man, and it didn't really matter anyhow: he'd changed his mind. Going through the wormhole back to Earth wouldn't use a lot of energy, and it would save him eighteen boring days on the Daedalus.
Sheppard was in Elizabeth's office, looking at him with his lips pressed together, but Rodney ignored him.
"I want to go back. Now."
Elizabeth replied using her business voice, the one for delicate diplomatic negotiations where some alien emissary needed placating.
"The Daedalus won't return to Earth until-"
"I'm not talking about the Daedalus," Rodney interrupted her, "the ZPM has more than enough power to establish a wormhole between Atlantis and Earth without being noticeably further depleted."
"Rodney, I know you are upset, but can't we talk about this?"
He didn't need being placated. He was calm.
"I have made my decision, Elizabeth. And since it seems Colonel Sheppard has already brought you up to date on recent events, you'll agree that if the situation stays as it is now, it will only lead to distractions you can't afford right now. By leaving as soon as possible, I'm actually doing you a favour." He smirked. "Besides, you can hardly keep me here against my will."
Elizabeth looked at him for a long moment, clearly unhappy with the situation. Well, she had done her own part in bringing it on, so he refused to feel sympathetic.
"Tomorrow," she finally said.
"But-"
"Tomorrow." Sharper this time, and Rodney knew better than to argue when she was like this. " You were willing to wait for the Daedalus to leave an hour ago, surely it won't be too much to ask you to wait another day."
"All right. I'll tell Radek that the schedule has been changed, then."
Without another word, and still paying no heed to the Colonel who had listened silently to the whole conversation, Rodney left.
Hours later, he was surprised by Teyla and Ronon turning up on his doorstep to say their goodbyes.
"We shall miss you greatly, Rodney," Teyla told him with a regretful expression on her beautiful face, and he shifted a little awkwardly as she brought their foreheads together in the Athosian gesture of respect and friendship. She had occasionally teased him, yes, but she had also been continuously saving his life over the last two years, and he'd probably miss her, too. Most likely.
"Never thought you'd run," Ronon told him gruffly, and Rodney straightened.
"This isn't about me being scared," he said stiffly.
"I know. Still never thought you'd run."
And what was there to say to that? 'I didn't plan on it'? Rodney liked to think that he'd acquired Ronon's grudging respect by now, even if they had never quite gotten each other. The food competitions certainly had been fun.
Who was he kidding? He was going to miss both these people more than it was appropriate for colleagues. But they had become friends, and they weren't the reason he was leaving. Not the overwhelmingly large part of the reason, anyway.
Radek dropped by later that evening, waving a bottle of some Czech booze that would probably taste vaguely like grass and be potent enough to kill the brain cells of a small town, and making himself comfortable on Rodney's bed without waiting for an invitation.
"By all means, do come in," Rodney snorted, still standing at the door.
"I thought you might want something to drink after the day you've had." A shrug, and a friendly smile Rodney didn't trust for one second.
"And you didn't think to bring any glasses? Seriously, Radek, the last thing I need right now is to catch mad Czech scientist cooties from a bottle of liquid death."
"This is deadly enough to kill any germs I carry," Radek solemnly announced, wiggling his fingers at the bottle, and Rodney grinned.
"You're not going to try talking me into staying, are you?" he asked, flopping down on the mattress next to the engineer.
"No. I know you're too thick-headed to change your mind once you've made a decision, even if it's a stupid one."
Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but Radek shook his head and carried on.
"I do not say this is a stupid decision. Rash, perhaps, but I know you're praising my work more often than they acknowledge yours, so I won't tell you you're overreacting."
"Well, that's… thank you."
"I will regret you're not here for me to disprove your theories anymore, though." Radek grinned brightly, and Rodney flipped him off, feeling more relaxed than he had all day.
"Right. As if. They'll be lucky if you don't kill them all during your first week as the lead scientist."
Radek shot him a dark look, pouting.
"You know what, I take it back: have a safe trip. Perhaps send a Christmas card."
"Yeah, you going to share that or what?" Rodney dismissed him, pointing at the bottle.
Another dark look, then Radek unscrewed the bottle, taking a deep swig that made him shudder before he sloppily toasted and handed the vodka or whatever it was over to Rodney.
"To Atlantis."
Rodney raised the bottle in his own toast, brought it to his lips, and drank. The liquid tasted like sharp nothing in his mouth, fire burning down his throat and making warmth bloom in his chest before rising straight back up into his head.
Like he had thought: Radek's good stuff.
"To Atlantis," he agreed, proud that his voice sounded only a little scratchy. Radek grinned at him, the little weasel, and propped Rodney's pillow against the wall so he could make himself more comfortable.
"So, tell me: how does one become an evil scientist overlord?"
They killed about a quarter of the bottle before Radek left. Rodney had just decided to get ready for bed, tired and feeling not unpleasantly buzzed, when his door chime sounded again. He rolled his eyes; people had never been that interested in him on average days.
It was Sheppard.
Huh. Funny, he had thought he had calmed down, especially after Radek's visit, but just seeing the Colonel standing in front of his door, regarding him with an air of discomfort, was enough to make Rodney's hackles rise again, the feelings of hurt and disillusionment still closer to the surface than he had anticipated.
"Can I come in?"
"No."
There was a moment of awkward silence when Sheppard clearly didn't know what to say.
"McKay-" he started, only to break off again, running a hand through his hair. "Look. I'm sorry."
And now the man had the gall to look at him expectantly after what was in all likelihood the worst attempt at acting contrite Rodney had ever witnessed. He snorted.
"Careful, Colonel, you might break something."
"Damn it, Rodney, I'm trying to apologise!" Sheppard snapped, obviously caught somewhere between angry and distressed; Rodney didn't have to be a genius to know that Elizabeth would have ordered Sheppard to smooth things over. Well, too little, too late.
"I don't want your apology." Even if it had been sincere, which Rodney highly doubted, Sheppard had made him work hard to 'earn back his trust' after screwing up only once, and Rodney wasn't big enough a man to simply forget that. After two years of continuous emotional ill-treatment, 'I'm sorry' just didn't cut it. "In fact, there's nothing we need to talk about. I am no longer a member of your team, so let's just stop the forced socialising, hm?"
Sheppard flinched guiltily, and it gave Rodney a hollow feeling of satisfaction to know he had once again been right.
"McKay-"
"Good night, Colonel," he said, closing the door in the other man's face. Turning back to the room, he gave a small sigh. Now that his pleasant relaxation had evaporated, he might as well forego sleeping and start packing.
It was amazing how much stuff he had gathered over the last two years. There were, of course, the personal items he had brought from Earth, but in addition to them, Rodney seemed to have acquired dozens of curious items and souvenirs. Ancient trinkets he wouldn't be allowed to take back home, naturally, but the Incarasian fertility cube would make a nice decoration in his apartment, as would the Athosian bowl they all had gotten from Teyla for last Christmas. She had solemnly listened to his stuttered attempts at thanking her for what was essentially a completely useless gift, then she had grinned mischievously and handed him his real gift, a stack of 'typical delicacies from his home country' – Hershey bars. Curiously enough, it had almost made him admire her. That, and the fact that she had managed to get even Ronon with her act, laughing out loud when the gruff Satedan had helplessly turned his own bowl in his hands, not knowing what to say.
Rodney smiled a little sadly, picking up the small egg timer-like device Sheppard had accidentally traded himself in for on M98-701.
Of all the things to make him leave Atlantis, he'd never thought it would be disappointment.
He did catch some sleep that night, after all, if only because he had become rather efficient at packing up after the SGC had merrily shooed him from one assignment to the next, transferring him back and forth across the globe in the years he'd been working for them. Well, this time he'd insist they either station him in Colorado Springs, or he'd leave the program altogether. Even with the nondisclosure agreements he'd signed it would be unproblematic enough to find a new job, or perhaps he'd just stop working altogether. God knew he had enough money to afford a lifetime of contentment, without anyone telling him what to do and when to jump how high.
His belongings formed a small pile of crates and boxes as he stacked them up in the gateroom, a young marine helping him carry them from his quarters to the Stargate. Colonel Sheppard was there, watching from the control room as Rodney got ready to step through the Gate one final time. The silent presence was probably a last ditch effort to make Rodney develop a bad conscience; a rather sad and laughable attempt, really. He was just surprised that there weren't any more 'apologies' forthcoming, either from Sheppard or from Elizabeth, but none of them had said anything to make him stay. Evidence of how much he had overestimated his worth to the expedition in the past.
He nodded at the control room technician to dial Earth, but Sheppard stopped the Sergeant with a word. Rodney sighed, then raised his chin in defiance as the Colonel walked down the steps and towards him. Here it came.
To his surprise, Sheppard pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it – heavens might know where he'd even found it. The Colonel shot him a quick glance before clearing his throat.
"Look, I'm not good at this, so…" He trailed off, looking way out of his league, and Rodney started to feel uncomfortable. Sheppard tried again. "Before you leave, I wanted to… oh, hell. Thank you. Thank you for trying to pull more energy out of the ZPM when we first came here, thank you for dialling all those gate addresses after that first culling on Athos, thank you for showing me the puddle jumpers, thank you for walking into that energy cloud and throwing the generator through the Gate, I know that took guts, thank you for figuring out how to retract the engine pods when we were stuck in that Gate…"
Rodney listened with growing confusion as Sheppard proceeded to read his list, thanking him for things he had almost forgotten. It was admittedly clever, putting Rodney into a position where he could no longer claim to have never been suitably accredited, but the longer the Colonel talked, the more it seemed as though this was more than a ploy to keep Rodney on Atlantis. Sheppard's voice was, for once, completely serious, even holding an edge of desperation, and Rodney had to refrain from drawing in a sharp breath as he realised that the man was serious.
He was serious.
To say Rodney was at loss for words would have been an understatement. He knew that this was basically what he had asked for, recognition, but he hadn't honestly expected them to comply, least of all Sheppard. It seemed that by dismissing their friendship, he'd been more than a little rash, something that now made him feel ashamed.
It might be safe to say that they were even. So there was no reason to run the Colonel through the whole humiliation process and have him read the entire list, no matter how much Rodney might be desiring to hear it. This was Sheppard's way of honestly apologising, so for once, Rodney would be the bigger man and forgive instead of gloating over his victory. He'd stay, at least for now, but they'd better make sure to give him his entitled credit from now on.
Besides, he could feel himself starting to blush, and that was just no.
"… thank you for fixing the jumper enough so we could open the Gate, I'll admit that I was doubting you back there for a while, and thank you for-"
"That's enough, Colonel."
Sheppard looked up then, clasping his list tightly, staring at him helplessly, almost lost, and Rodney realised that he had quite possibly just missed his last chance to ever walk away. As long as Sheppard's eyes held that expression, he'd never be able to say no to anything the man was asking of him.
"I'm not done," Sheppard protested.
"I think you are."
Grabbing a box and starting for the exit, Rodney turned when Sheppard didn't move, meeting the Colonel's puzzled stare with raised eyebrows.
"Seeing how the whole exercise is your fault, the least you can do is help me carry my things back to my quarters, don't you think?"
"I think he's right there, John," Elizabeth injected from her place on the small balcony next to the control room, and smiled.
At least she had the decency not to gloat.
Sheppard blinked, then hurriedly grabbed Rodney's laptop and a box of his own. Satisfied, Rodney walked out of the gateroom, paying no heed to the grinning faces around him.
Today's show was over.
They carried Rodney's belongings back to his room without really looking at each other, let alone talking. But then the last box was placed on Rodney's desk, and the silence was heavy in the small room. Rodney felt awkward, not knowing what to say, until Sheppard broke the silence.
"So you're staying."
"I think that should be obvious, yes."
Sheppard nodded, visibly relaxing, and finally looked up to meet his eyes.
"Look, I didn't mean to… upset you or something. I'm sorry. "
Rodney shrugged uncomfortably.
"So am I, for, you know. Saying what I did about, um, about Sumner and Everett. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't true."
Sheppard nodded again, and there was another moment of self-conscious silence where they looked everywhere but at each other.
"Want to catch a movie?"
"Sure," Rodney agreed quickly, barely suppressing a relieved sigh. There was something naked in Sheppard's gaze, something that didn't quite go away even when they were sitting together on Rodney's bed watching Unbreakable, Sheppard close enough for Rodney to feel the warmth of the other man's body. Bruce Willis' kid said something stupid, Sheppard chuckled, and Rodney realised just how much he would have missed him. Lame jokes and misguided heroism and all.
But they were starting over, right? Perhaps they could start for real.
That night, Rodney rolled over to bump against a warm body that shifted slightly before settling back against him. Against all common sense, he felt a glowing satisfaction at having stayed, constant threat of premature decease notwithstanding. After all, there had to be a reason why sex after intense situations was rumoured to be impressively fulfilling, and as the most brilliant man in two galaxies, it was his duty to find out what reason that might be. Though his research probably wouldn't be used to enlighten mankind, he thought as he pressed himself a little closer to John, but the act of investigation alone should be rewarding enough.
The thought followed him into sleep, and he smiled.
~~~
John
"It worked!"
John blinked, Beckett's excited exclamation ringing in his ears as he stared at the stars in front of him, shining serenely where seconds before there had been blindingly bright lava pressing on the Orion's shields.
They had made it.
Against all odds, they had made it, once again, and with an Ancient warship no less! Rodney's nutty plan had worked, and John found himself nodding numbly when Norina announced, "You really are a genius, Rodney."
Because it was true. More often than not, it was Rodney who got them a last second escape from certain death, one of the main reasons he was on John's team. And now he had done it again, and they had the Orion, and could this day get any better? John didn't think so.
"Rodney?" Norina asked, and John grinned slightly. Obviously Rodney was still floundering with post-almost-death adrenaline, nothing unusual for the scientist.
"I'm good."
Yeah, not really, but he would be. Maybe they could catch a movie later; John had finally managed to get his hands on The Sixth Sense, a movie that, according to Ford, Rodney had never finished. Or, speaking of Willis, they could watch Unbreakable, one of the worst superhero movies ever according to the grapevine, with a completely laughable storyline, and didn't that sound like something that would get a rise out of his scientist?
A sudden burst of static followed by Caldwell's voice yanked him out of his thoughts.
"This is the Daedalus. Are there any survivors aboard?"
John took a deep breath, suppressing his grin even though Caldwell couldn't possibly see it.
"Yes, sir. In fact, we have a very big passenger list."
And a giant spaceship! They so rocked! Surely the Taranians would let them keep it, wouldn't they? If not for John and his team, they'd be all dead by now, that had to be worth more than a ten thousand year old used warship. If everything else failed, John was sure that Elizabeth would talk it right out of them. She was good at that kind of thing.
A few hours later, the Daedalus had towed them back home, and it was business as usual: lots of refugees in his city who needed to be fed and watered and convinced that they didn't really want to stay longer than absolutely necessary. John liked the Taranians, he really did, but they were too many even for Atlantis' recently renewed supplies, especially with a Hiveship on its way to the city. Thankfully, Elizabeth had already sold the idea of a new home to the Taranian chancellor, so it wouldn't be more than a few days before he and his people were safely relocated on M4X-P37. It still meant a lot of work for everyone, though, and John was glad that they had just about wrapped up the debriefing.
"The explosion was every bit as destructive as I feared," Rodney was just saying. John would have to remember asking his friend how he knew so much about vulcanology. It had certainly saved their asses back there. "The ash clouds encircled the entire planet."
Yeah. Now that had been a sight to see. Almost pretty.
"Will the Taranian people ever be able to go home?" Teyla asked, but Carson shook his head.
"Not for many years, I'm afraid."
After what was left of their planet, John would be surprised if ever. He distinctly remembered something about the clouds blocking out the sunlight; that meant winter for now, right? Judging by the amount of ash that had been blown into the atmosphere, it would be a long one.
"We found a planet that Chancellor Lycus feels is suitable for them. We're going to start relocating people there." Elizabeth nodded at him. "I'd like you and your team to assist them. Just to make sure the relocation goes smooth."
Well, sure, but that would be a lot easier if McKay-
"I'll take a repair team back to the Orion, get the engines fixed."
Exactly. Although…
"Thought you told Norina you couldn't fix it."
Not that Rodney had needed to fix them, he'd still saved their collective asses, as always, and John had to work hard to suppress a proud smile. Baiting Rodney was much more fun; it was what they did, and sure enough, that one sentence was enough to get Rodney all worked up.
"It was never a question of whether or not I could fix it, it-"
And there it was, the proverbial light bulb as McKay realised he had been had. One of these days, John would have to teach him a thing or two about keeping a poker face. Then again, where would be the fun in not knowing what Rodney was thinking at any given moment? Right now, Rodney was obviously thinking something about John sticking his head up his ass and keeping it there until he turned blue.
"Work as quickly as you can, Rodney," Elizabeth told him unnecessarily. "The chancellor has graciously allowed us to use the ship, in exchange for our help."
Yes! Good old Elizabeth, he'd known he could count on her. With the Daedalus and the Orion, once Rodney had fixed the engines, they'd blast the damn Hiveship right out of the sky. And if the Wraith sent more ships, they'd find a way. They always did, no matter if Rodney was going all pessimist on them again or not, and they got to keep the Ancient warship!
Best. Day. Ever.
"I assume there's still a Hiveship on the way?" Caldwell's thoughts were obviously running in the same direction as John's. Well, military.
"Yes," Zelenka replied, and Ronon asked, "Why only one ship?"
"We don't know. Maybe they're just coming to prove we're still here, but if they manage to do that…" Elizabeth didn't have to finish that sentence.
Caldwell, however, proved that he and John had indeed more in common than either of them would care to admit.
"Well, at least we've got the Orion now, and the city's supply of drones has been replenished."
Thank you, Mara.
"That's enough to put up one hell of a fight," John agreed. Only to be sneered at by McKay.
"Let's not fool ourselves," the scientist said in his you're-all-morons voice. "If they come in full force, and there's no reason to believe that they won't this time, then, I'm sorry, but-"
"It's not going to be enough," Elizabeth cut in, and John winced in the sudden silence. "It's all we've got."
Yes, it was, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't make it enough somehow. If push came to shove, he'd make McKay build him another nuke, and if he had to put a gun to the man's head to do that. He'd prefer if it didn't come to that, though.
The debriefing had apparently ended on that cheerful note, and John made to get up from where he was sitting on the table when Rodney cleared his throat.
"Well, if we're all done here, I'd like to add something." There was a small pause, then Rodney carried on. "Once the Hiveship is gone, I'll return to Earth aboard the Daedalus. Consider this my official resignation."
What? John stared at McKay, stunned. That was a joke, right? A bad one, granted, and he'd be giving McKay hell later for scaring them like that, but a joke nevertheless.
Only that he could see from Rodney's pinched expression that it wasn't. But where the hell had that come from? They just had acquired an Ancient warship, for God's sake, why would McKay want to leave? And why hadn't he said something before; they were friends, damn it, practically family, and John felt more than a little betrayed.
Why would Rodney abandon them like that?
"You'll have to admit that this is a little sudden," Elizabeth finally broke the silence while John was still struggling for words. Rodney raised his chin, looking pale, but determined, and what the fuck was going on here?
"I've been thinking about it for quite some time now. This is as good an opportunity as any."
"The hell, McKay?" John finally managed. This wasn't a good opportunity by a long shot. There would never be a good opportunity to return to Earth as far as John was concerned, and he had been sure that Rodney would be the first to agree, maybe with the exception of delivering a speech when they finally gave him his Nobel Prize.
"I'm aware that this is rather short notice, but I'm convinced you will manage. Radek, make sure you stop by before my departure, there are some notes I'll have to copy for you. Now, if you'll excuse me? I have some engines to fix."
And off he went, leaving them gaping like fish out of their water. John shared a quick look with Elizabeth. His said: what the hell just happened here? Hers said: resolve this. Now.
She was right, he had to get to the bottom of this. Jumping off the table, John hurried out of the room, trying to catch up with Rodney. If nothing else, he deserved to know what had brought this on.
The scientist was already far down the hall, stomping along the corridor at his usual determined pace.
"McKay!"
Maybe those Trust guys had sent someone who was now blackmailing Rodney into leaving, threatening him with the life of the sister John knew he had somewhere. As far as he remembered, she was a scientist; maybe she was working with the SGC or the NID and the Trust had kidnapped her or something. Or maybe McKay was sick, terminally ill, and wanted to spend the rest of his days contemplating the vast Canadian wilderness, but no, Beckett wouldn't have looked so shell-shocked if it had been a health thing. Well, maybe homesickness then, but damn, he'd never find out if Rodney wouldn't talk to him.
"McKay! Wait up!"
Rodney stopped a few feet from the transporter, turning around with a strangely blank expression on his face.
"I don't think we need to discuss this, Colonel."
"Well, too bad, because I think we do. What the hell brought this on?"
And don't try to give me that shit about wanting to do this for a long time, he added silently. He knew when Rodney was lying. But judging from the stubborn tilt of Rodney's chin, lying wasn't on the agenda anyway.
"Well, if you must know, I noticed a certain lack of acknowledgement that annoys me on both a professional and a personal level," he said, leaving John stumped. "So I figured I'd relocate somewhere my genius is actually appreciated."
That was… the most stupid thing he'd ever heard.
"You want to leave Atlantis because we don't say thank you often enough?" he asked incredulously. "What are you, five?"
Which was obviously exactly the wrong thing to say, judging by Rodney's reaction.
"I want to leave Atlantis because your doormat back on Earth was possibly treated better than I am!" the scientist exploded. "I get ridiculed, derided, and disparaged on a regular basis, more often than not by you, and frankly, I've had enough."
That was completely ridiculous. John didn't deride anyone; if anything, he indulged in a little friendly banter every now and then, and hell, this was a bit much even for McKay.
"You saying we don’t treat you like you deserve?" he asked jokingly, because as much as he liked Rodney, the man was seriously high maintenance, and sometimes he just needed to be brought down from his high horse. Usually, teasing him worked like a charm.
Unfortunately, not this time.
"I'm saying that I'm sick of you and your attitude, Colonel. You can run around waking the Wraith and screw up an entire galaxy, but I blow up a single solar system and you get to throw it in my face whenever you see fit?" McKay all but jumped at his throat, and John felt his growing irritation turn into anger. Who the fuck did McKay think he was, standing here all self-righteous and superior? He wanted to snap at the man, but McKay ploughed on. "What the hell was that, bringing up Duranda on Taranis, did you want them to think I was a, a screw-up? You constantly put me down on that planet, you had no right to do that, and I apologised, several times, what more do you want me to do?"
For all the-
"So now you're pouting? Suck it up, McKay!"
And wait a minute, this was exactly the wrong way to go. John had wanted an explanation, not an argument, and yelling at Rodney wouldn't make him change his mind about leaving Atlantis. If they were to talk about it, John needed to calm himself down, get the situation back under control, except now Rodney was sneering at him.
"Oh, come on, you're hardly in the position to blame anyone for their mistakes. At least I didn't kill anyone!"
Take a deep breath, stay calm.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You shot your commanding officer on your first day, and the next one didn't last significantly longer. A remarkable coincidence, isn't it?"
And hearing his friend say the same words John had heard whispered behind his back since that very first day made something inside him snap. Only when his fist connected with Rodney's jaw, sending the other man crumpling to the ground, did he realise how bad things had gotten between them.
And he hadn't even noticed.
Rodney glared at him when he got up, his face a mask of cold anger as he held his jaw. Without another word, the scientist turned, and left. John stared after him until the transporter doors closed, swallowing hard.
He needed to talk to Elizabeth. And yet he stalled for almost fifteen minutes before actually approaching her, trying to find a way to make McKay stay on Atlantis. He came up blank, though.
"I screwed up," he said as he walked into Elizabeth's office, not bothering to close the door.
"How is that?"
"Well, instead of getting an explanation out of him, I knocked him down. How's that for a start?" So McKay had provoked him, but that was no reason to rearrange his face.
Elizabeth sighed.
"I'm not saying that I approve, but we are all very upset right now."
"That's one way to put it." John gave a sigh of his own, scratching his head. "But after this, I don't think there's anything you can do to make McKay change his mind. He's feeling underappreciated, and he's pissed about it."
And completely overreacting, something that wasn't exactly unusual for the scientist. John was beginning to feel rather tired of that.
"Underappreciated? What are you-"
She broke off, straightening in her chair. John turned around.
Rodney strode into the office, a bruise already forming on his jaw. He kept his gaze on Elizabeth, not even so much as acknowledging John's presence. Well, if this was the way he wanted to play it, John would play right along.
"I want to go back. Now."
Rodney's voice made it clear that this was a demand, not a request. And surely enough, Elizabeth bristled slightly, but managed to keep her calm.
"The Daedalus won't return to Earth until-"
Rodney cut her off.
"I'm not talking about the Daedalus, the ZPM has more than enough power to establish a wormhole between Atlantis and Earth without being noticeably further depleted."
Damn it, Rodney, John thought, don't end it like this. He still didn't get what had brought this on in the first place, but as angry as he was at McKay right now for behaving like a little kid, he didn't want him to go. There had to be something to change his mind, make him stay, if only they could find it. But John would be the first to admit that diplomacy wasn't exactly his forte, and diplomacy was what this situation was calling for.
He had to bite his tongue to keep silent, watching as Elizabeth leaned forward with a concerned expression.
"Rodney, I know you are upset, but can't we talk about this?"
It seemed that Rodney wasn't in the mood for negotiations.
"I have made my decision, Elizabeth. And since it seems Colonel Sheppard has already brought you up to date on recent events," Rodney tilted his chin a little higher, "you'll agree that if the situation stays as it is now, it will only lead to distractions you can't afford right now. By leaving as soon as possible, I'm actually doing you a favour. Besides, you can hardly keep me here against my will."
Well, no, they couldn't, not if Rodney set his mind to making their lives a living hell. Apparently, Elizabeth knew that as well, even though she didn't seem happy about it.
"Tomorrow," she decided. Rodney glared at her.
"But-"
"Tomorrow," she repeated, her voice hard. "You were willing to wait for the Daedalus to leave an hour ago, surely it won't be too much to ask you to wait another day."
And somewhere over the course of the last two years, Rodney had obviously learned to pick his battles.
"All right. I'll tell Radek that the schedule has been changed, then."
The scientist nodded at her, then he left without shooting John a single glance.
Just as well.
"You're not really going to let him leave, are you?" John asked Elizabeth as soon as the door had closed, his voice betraying his incredulity.
"He has made up his mind, John. I won't force him to stay."
But didn't she see that it was all just a huge misunderstanding? Rodney didn't want to go; he was just pouting, and somehow John doubted that he could change that, not if he didn't even have twenty-four hours' time. Besides, it was obvious that Rodney didn't trust him anymore, a thought that made him feel slightly sick for some reason. But he could repair that, he knew he could. He just needed more time.
He needed someone Rodney would listen to.
Dr. Zelenka was less than helpful when John approached him, saying that while he didn't exactly approve of Rodney's most recent decisions, he could certainly understand them. There was mention of that credit thing again, and John lost it.
"I don't see why we should thank him for every crazy stunt he's pulling! He's just doing his job, for god's sake!" And it was true: he really didn't get it. John was putting his ass on the line for Atlantis' safety every other day, but that didn't mean he expected people to fall to their knees and pay tribute to him. He was a soldier – risking his own life to protect others was what he had signed on for.
Zelenka looked at him with a gaze full of pity.
"No, Colonel, Rodney's job is heading the science department. It's research of Ancient technology. You turned it into exploration, expecting him to come up with one impossible last minute solution after another without even acknowledging his work. Rodney isn't doing one job, he's doing two, and for one of them he doesn't get as much as a thank-you."
"I thanked him! Hell, I praised him!" John protested.
"How often?"
Just two words, an easy question, but John had to think about it for a moment. There had been that time with the Superwraith (Rodney shooting at a ten thousand year-old alien), he distinctly remembered saying thanks. And after blowing the Wraith virus-infected F-302 out of the sky (Rodney in a fighter jet), he'd told Rodney "good job", or something like that. And he was certain, almost certain, that there had been other times, he just couldn't think of them right now.
With a sinking feeling, John realised that Zelenka might have a point there. Probably. Most likely. John was the military commander of Atlantis, and no one expected anything of him that wasn't implicated by that title. Rodney, though, was a physicist. Astrophysicist, if you wanted to be exact; that along with his research in Antarctica had made him chief of the whole science team. Except Rodney way also a genius with a habit of picking up the oddest bits of knowledge, and that had put him into a grey zone. Whatever the problem, Rodney was the one most likely to have an answer ready to deliver, as long as you weren't asking for one of the 'soft sciences' – and sometimes even then. It was expected, taken for granted… and not entirely fair. Especially if you acted like John and dragged the scientist out into the field, demanding he shoot better, run faster, and be tougher already, damn it, giving him hell if he acted like the inexperienced indoor guy he was.
John hadn't acknowledged Rodney all that often, for all the things he kept asking of the man. And Rodney was someone who strove for recognition, at least by people about whose opinion he actually gave a damn. One of those people had been John, maybe even the most important one. A privilege he hadn't even noticed having until Rodney had taken it away.
Crap.
It was rather late when John had finally sorted out the mixture of regret, having a bad conscience, and feeling a bit resentful at Rodney for making him have said bad conscience in the first place. He needed to apologise, that much was a given, but he didn't quite know how. For all that people usually liked him, he wasn't actually that good at interacting with them. And saying sorry was... hard. But he owed Rodney as much, and he was no chicken, so he might as well get it over with.
Shame Rodney was looking at him with something very close to disgust when he opened his door. John's carefully prepared words evaporated into nothing.
"Can I come in?" he finally managed lamely.
"No."
The answer was short and made it painfully clear where John was standing. Still, he needed to do this, and if Rodney wanted him to apologise in the hallway, so be it. It was like that Duranda debacle, only the other way around.
He just had to say he was sorry, just a little more elaborate. And hope Rodney didn't throw his apology right back in his face.
"McKay-" No words. McKay was staring at him like he was something sticky the scientist had discovered under his shoe, and he wanted to say he was sorry, except the words were gone. John ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Just get it over with. "Look. I'm sorry."
He was. Rodney had to know that, and if their friendship meant anything, Rodney also knew that John was incredibly bad at this. The effort had to count for something, even if the execution was lacking, right?
Apparently not.
"Careful, Colonel, you might break something," Rodney snorted, which just wasn't fair.
"Damn it, Rodney, I'm trying to apologise!"
"I don't want your apology. In fact, there's nothing we need to talk about. I am no longer a member of your team, so let's just stop the forced socialising, hm?"
That stung, and John couldn't entirely suppress his flinch at the harsh words. How could things have gotten so bad that McKay just dismissed him like this, without John ever noticing? And so what if the scheduled team nights usually lacked a certain spontaneity or cheerfulness or whatever – they hadn't been forced, John had liked them, time spent with his friends, and he'd thought Rodney liked them as well. And now the scientist said that he hadn't?
"McKay-"
"Good night, Colonel," Rodney said briskly, before closing the door in John's face.
John blinked, horrified to find himself very close to pounding on the door and yelling at McKay to give him a goddamn chance to have his friend back! That wasn't right; John was cool, John was calm, and the only yelling he did was when… when McKay was too slow fixing something.
He turned, and walked back to his room to go to sleep, watch a movie, read his book, whatever. Instead, he found himself pacing. His apology had gone as wrong as it possibly could have, and he didn't even know exactly why. He and Rodney were friends, or at least they had been. The thought of the other man leaving for good made John lose all that was left of his appetite. Probably because up until now, members of the original expedition had hardly ever left the city for good, except if they'd been dead or at least severely wounded. It was nothing he wanted his subconscious to associate with Rodney, but couldn't help himself – it was like he had lost someone. Rodney McKay had been among the very first persons on the expedition John had clicked with – one of the few who loved Atlantis, needed Atlantis, almost as much as he did. The only reason for Rodney to go back to Earth, John had thought, was either death or the destruction of the city.
Or, apparently, John himself.
He refused to accept that. There had to be a way to make Rodney stay, John just had to find it. Rodney wanted recognition, right? Right. So somebody had to recognise him.
John looked around his room. He had absentmindedly nicked Elizabeth's ball pen weeks ago and never gotten around to giving it back. Now what he needed was paper.
In the end, he remembered that one of the scientists had brought a notebook to write down her thoughts. He winced as he tore out a page, the sound unnaturally loud in the empty lab. But in war, there are casualties, he reminded himself as he started to write.
It was for the greater good.
The next morning, John stood in the control room and watched Rodney pile up his stuff in front of the Gate. He had half hoped that Rodney would have changed his mind over night, but no such luck. And the scientist still ignored him, nodding directly at the technician sat at the DHD.
"Hold it," John said quietly as the technician reached for the first symbol. Obediently, the man pulled his hand back. Taking a deep breath, John straightened his shoulders and made his way to the stairs that led to the gateroom floor.
Last chance.
Rodney had raised his chin, his body language screaming defence by the time John reached him. It didn't matter; this time, the words were on paper, the results of a long night spent recalling distant as well as recent memories. John reached into his pocket, and pulled out the list he had made. Unfolding it, he shot a quick glance in Rodney's direction. Still the poster boy for angry defiance, and who was John kidding, of course it mattered if Rodney didn't even listen to him. But it wasn't as if he had a choice, now, was it?
If only his throat wasn't so dry.
"Look," he started, "I'm not good at this, so..."
Stupid. Rodney knew best that John wasn't good at this kind of stuff, and what if he thought John was stalling? Was he stalling? Oh God, he was stalling, wasn't he, and this wasn't a good start. He tried again.
"Before you leave, I wanted to... oh, hell." Here goes. Just do it. "Thank you. Thank you for trying to pull more energy out of the ZPM when we first came here, thank you for dialling all those gate addresses after that first culling on Athos, thank you for showing me the puddle jumpers, thank you for walking into that energy cloud and throwing the generator through the Gate, I know that took guts..."
He went on, reading his list of every single time he could remember when Rodney had saved his life, saved the city, acted brave, or simply had a good idea. In the end, he had taken up both sides of the paper, and there were still a few things left out. John was hoping that by the time he'd reach the end of his list, he'd be able to go on by memory.
He really couldn't afford to screw this up.
But Rodney stopped him when he had just gotten as far as their time on the prison island.
"That's enough, Colonel."
John looked up then, clenching his fists around the paper he was still holding. Rodney's chin was still raised, or maybe raised again, and it simply wasn't fair. It wouldn't be too much to ask of Rodney to throw him a goddamn bone here, was it? Granted, the list was a last ditch effort, not very well thought out and on a single page stolen out of a cheap notebook, but had been all he'd been able to come up with on such a short notice, and he was serious! Give him a week, and there'd be flow charts and diagrams and power point presentations as soon as someone explained them to him – right now, all he had was a piece of paper. It was the thought that counted! John might have the social skills of a six year-old, but even he knew that Rodney didn't have any excuse to leave if somebody thanked him properly, damn it, and that was what John was doing!
He opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was, "I'm not done." Which, yeah, was pretty lame, and he felt stupid as soon as he'd said it, except Rodney was ruining the whole concept. If John didn't get to read the whole list, Rodney would still leave, and he'd still blame John, and they'd never see each other again, and that thought hurt.
"I think you are," Rodney said, without mercy, grabbed a box and... and started to walk away from the Gate?
John stood frozen to the spot, unable to move, unable to process this new development, until Rodney turned around, only a few steps from the exit.
"Seeing how the whole exercise is your fault," the scientist announced, "the least you can do is help me carry my things back to my quarters, don't you think?"
"I think he's right there, John," Elizabeth agreed from somewhere above, but John barely noticed her.
It had worked. Rodney was staying.
John blinked.
It had worked?
Relief hit him so hard he almost staggered. Blindly, he grabbed for the closest thing that seemed important – if Rodney changed his mind again, John would have a hostage. He shared a quick look with Elizabeth as he followed Rodney out of the gateroom, taking care to keep the scientist in his line of sight. She smiled, looking like a huge weight had been taken from her shoulders, and John smirked back. She didn't have to know how close he'd been to take out the power to the Gate.
Hail Marys weren't as fun if you had to pull them yourselves.
They didn't really talk as they walked back to Rodney's quarters, and back to the gateroom, and to Rodney's quarters again, carrying box after box until the last one was safely stowed away. Then they just stood there, silent, uncomfortable, avoiding each others gazes, until John couldn't stand it anymore.
"So you're staying."
"I think that should be obvious, yes."
It was obvious, it really was, except after the last day, he desperately needed the reassurance, even if he tried to play it down. At Rodney's words, he felt himself relax, just a little, and at last straightened up to look at his friend. Who was staying. Who would probably demand John recite the whole list, several times, before he let it be, and that was okay. It was what they did.
"Look, I didn't mean to... upset you or something. I'm sorry."
He was. It probably wouldn't mean he'd be any less of a jerk, occasionally, but he did appreciate his scientist. More than was healthy, actually. Rodney just shrugged, though.
"So am I, for, you know. Saying what I did about, um, about Sumner and Everett. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't true."
John nodded, and he knew he should have left. Only he still felt on edge, didn't really want to let Rodney out of his sight. He wasn't afraid Rodney would leave while he was gone, of course, that would have been stupid. He just… he just wanted to make sure.
"Want to catch a movie?" he asked finally, fully aware he was appallingly close to getting in touch with his inner teenage girl, and not caring, as long as it made that awful feeling of discomfort go away. And Rodney was rather quick to agree, so at least John didn't have to feel quite that pathetic.
Unbreakable was every bit as bad as he had expected it to be. Every now and again, John found himself grinning, feeling Rodney's eyes on him every time he did. And if he was sitting a little too close, Rodney didn't complain. Instead, he kept glancing at John, puzzled little glances like there might be something to figure out, something new and fascinating of which Rodney had just caught his first glimpse. Bruce Willis' film son asked if he could shoot his dad, just a little, and John had to laugh about that. He heard Rodney let out a slow breath, knowing that whatever it was his friend had been sorting out for the last hour, a conclusion had been reached.
John allowed himself to relax. He knew that it would take a while until things were as they had been before, but for once in his life, he was willing to work at it. Glancing at Rodney, who was watching the screen again with disgusted concentration, John nudged his shoulder, grinning at the little smile that got him.
He just wondered what Rodney had decided on during the movie, and if he'd ever get to find out.
He did. That night, John surfaced from a sleep that was better than anything he'd had in ages to the feeling of Rodney snuggling closer to him. Overwhelming gratitude over something he hadn't even consciously wanted was likely to be a very unmanly thing, but John couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he was possibly – maybe – doing a little sliding closer of his own, enjoying the warmth that radiated from Rodney's body.
He would so work on keeping this, he though, even as sleep reclaimed him.
They both would.
~~~
End.