FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination|
Author of 24 Stories |
Title: These Small Hours
Author: CptnSuz
Rating: T (only because of language)
Summary: Introspective little snippets on McKay/Weir moments both from episodes and imagined, into a made-up season 4. Mostly from McKay’s perspective. See my profile for a link to the version with lyrics.
Spoilerage: season 1: ‘Hide and Seek’, ‘The Storm’, ‘The Eye’ season 3: ‘Tao of Rodney’ ‘Sunday’ ‘First Strike’ and general season 4 (which I don’t know how you could have avoided)
Song of Inspiration: Little Wonders –Rob Thomas
Beta Kudos To: Asdeed –the most easy-going beta-reader ever
Disclaimer: I make no claims of ownership on Stargate Atlantis or its characters or the song and lyrics. No infringements intended.
He had never done anything brave to his recollection. No childhood full of climbing to the tops of trees or jumping into swimming holes. The safe route for him, thank you. No chance of pain, no jeers upon failure, no accolades for going above and beyond either.
Which is why he was momentarily stunned, sprawled there on the gateroom floor. Elizabeth Weir’s brown eyes were warm and more emotive than her thin politically correct smile of relief. Her eyes bespoke awe and admiration –for his bravery. That’s right, not scientific prowess, bravery. It was reverberating in his head: the notion that he, Rodney, was brave. Ha!
----
It was still echoing in his head when he stepped in front of that gun. So clear. Of course you and not her. Heart overruling mind, body moving forward while his mouth ran on. Only when his brain caught up, registered the deadly weapon in close proximity to his torso did Rodney blanch. But he didn’t step away.
--
Tired. Cold. Wet. Very Wet. Wet beyond description. He was pretty sure that his insides were turning pruney now. Shiver. How long had they been out here now? With Kolya and his gun and the damn rain. Raining for hours.
He looked over to Elizabeth. She was shivering more than she had been earlier. That was not good. She looked worse than his grade-school classmate who had fallen in while ice-fishing, and that boy had died. Hypothermia, an exceedingly poor way to go. Rodney wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him a bit.
----
Can’t concentrate. Busy busy busy. Oh! How about that? That would improve the jumpers significantly. And if it worked on the jumpers could it be applied to their network interfacing with the Ancient database? Speaking of which he should really just upgrade the whole interface program. It really was so trivial a fix to speed it up, fix those bugs now that he understood them. Yep, he’d do that the moment he left here… What was he doing here again? Oh, right, clearing his mind and meditating… right…
‘Now, the sky is clearing. All of your troubles are fading away.’
Sheppard’s description of pre-ascension meditation was crap.
Rodney knew it because he could hear Sheppard’s thoughts. So he was also aware that Sheppard knew he knew it was crap. And still Sheppard was flipping through that magazine. It bothered him. The soft page-turning sounds, but more that Sheppard didn’t seem to care. Rodney got up and left. He didn’t want to be witness to his supposed-friends’ insincerities anymore. Best to stop listening in on others’ thoughts altogether.
Which is why he doesn’t hear Elizabeth’s mental debate as she paces outside his lab for fifteen minutes before entering. Wishing she had more expertise, more ways to help him. Maybe just that he would accept her help. Why he doesn’t notice that she is the one worried to bits and making everyone else care when Rodney’s caustic attitude or fatalism have drained them.
--
‘Rodney, you’re a good person.’
And after what seemed like both a moment and an eternity. ‘Know that we love you.’
‘You love me?’ He really couldn’t break this habit of speaking aloud. To be fair he added ‘Really? All of you?’ but he knew what Elizabeth had meant. Without telepathy, behind her measured speech, it was there and plain –the same feeling first kindled to life in her eyes two-and-a-half years ago as he lay on the gateroom floor. And now Rodney was struck by panic, because he wanted to stay; he wanted to live with every fiber of his being but he couldn’t. ‘Oh, God. I can’t believe I’m gonna die.’
----
Standing at the end of the pier, Rodney plunged his hands in his pockets. Staring east as the sun set behind him, imagining his farewell to Carson. Hearing his friend’s voice in his head saying, ‘This isn’t your fault.’ And if you were generous that might be true. But generous was not a word typically used to describe Rodney, unless it was preceded with an emphatic ‘not’. Critical was a better word choice, and like most tough critics, when turned on himself, Rodney was downright merciless. In the barest facts he might not be culpable, but he was far, far, from blameless.
--
‘So this is where you are.’ Elizabeth’s shadow appeared beside Rodney where he sat illuminated by the sole lamppost still at the end of the pier. He played with his shoelaces and didn’t answer. The sun had long since set. He hadn’t come in for dinner. Someone was bound to come looking for him –make sure he hadn’t done himself in. He just hadn’t expected it to be Elizabeth.
She waved a PowerBar in his peripheral vision. ‘I brought you something.’
‘Not hungry,’ he mumbled.
‘Oh.’ Her voice sounded flat, like the spirit had been tapped out of it. Like he was feeling right now. Rodney looked up into her eyes. Yup, that light was still there. Maybe he should have expected her.
He looked away, unsure of what to do. Elizabeth was his boss, and more importantly another of his friends. Best not to knock off another one of those few he had remaining. His thoughts naturally wandered to Carson, and then to Katie. Oh God. Rodney rested his forehead in his palms. He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t want to think, period.
Close by he could sense Elizabeth dropping down to kneel next to him. Then, in an almost pounce-like motion, she flung her arms around him. He flinched at the sudden contact, touchy-feely he was certainly not. But when she remained like that second after second, pressing her cheek against his right shoulder, Rodney relaxed into the embrace. Ever so slowly, he let his own head tilt over to rest on her curly hair.
----
Having to spar against his own teammates was no treat for Rodney. Especially when he was the least athletic of a team comprised of Ronon, Teyla and Sheppard. The one benefit he found from being knocked down repeatedly, and hard, was that he was quick up to his feet again.
And after the Asuran beam weapon clipped the tower, Rodney scrambled to his feet again. Thus he was afforded a front-row seat to the carnage it had wrought. Glass everywhere. Kind of fortunate that he’d fallen behind the console because everyone and everything was covered in shards of glass from the blown-in windows. Fucking stained glass windows, he didn’t even like them. All-in-all his console looked okay though. He started to brush away the glass.
Something warm and wet ran down the side of his face, and he reached up, wiping away a few drops of blood. He found a few small cuts, but worrying them only caused surpassingly more pain. So Rodney left them be and went to check the other consoles. Along the way he noted Teyla, Ronon, Chuck, and some of the more expendable scientific and technical staff picking themselves up from the shards and splinters. But where was Elizabeth?
--
‘Is he still here?’ Sheppard’s voice sounded faint.
Rodney ignored whatever conversation about him was assuredly beginning and snuggled his face against his laptop. At least he’d had the sense to close it before using it as a pillow, though Dell logo imprints ranked slightly more embarrassing than keyboard imprints in Zelenka’s last poll of the science staff.
All of which mattered very little to Rodney. They had worked feverishly to restore minimal system to the drifting cityship. Following his several previous days without sleep, he had been so tired that, once the basics were taken care of and help was on the way, he had been directed without complaint to the infirmary. Clutching his laptop like a security blanket, Rodney even let the doctors tend to his minor cuts without his typical wailing and moaning. But after he caught sight of Elizabeth, still unconscious on a nearby bed, he pulled up a stool and refused to be moved.
----
‘McKay.’ Carter looked up from her desk.
‘Hey, uhm, I came to see if you’d considered my transfer request.’
‘You mean the one asking to send you back to Earth? I though that was a joke.’
‘Uh, no.’
Carter turned a critical eye to the man standing in front of her. He looked like Rodney McKay. Except that ever since she’d arrived he hadn’t been the acerbic, bombastic McKay she remembered. Instead he’d been practically meek and agreeable, and it was weirding her out.
‘Well I thought it was a prank because I couldn’t think of any reason you’d want to go back to Earth.’ She skimmed the document on her computer screen. ‘I notice you just put ‘personal reasons’ under the explanation. Care to elaborate?’
‘Not really.’
‘Since when have you ever been at a loss for words, McKay? I know for a fact the Millers are doing fine. So if this is about me being in charge, let’s have it out right now.’
‘Oh, who is being egotistical now?’ Rodney was becoming incensed by all the resistance. ‘It is not about you.’
He glared at her, and Carter was starting to get an inkling of what this was about. ‘You can visit any time you want now that we have the gatebridge finished.’
‘Not good enough. I want to be there. Look, are you going to authorize this or not? Because I’ll go over your head and call in favors if I have to.’
‘I suppose I will, but this is a mistake, Rodney. You’re going to regret not being here, and you can’t just change your mind once you’re back.’
Shrugging, he turns to leave. ‘Maybe, but I know I regret not being there with her now.’
--
Like every day after he left work, Rodney strode down the antiseptic-smelling corridor. The nurse at the desk knew him by name now, acknowledging him with a soft ‘Dr. McKay’ as she handed him the usual visitor’s badge. Then he headed for what his coworkers so insensitively called the vegetable wing. God, it made him miss Atlantis sometimes when he wasn’t allowed to discipline his department when they got on his nerves. But he’d give it all up again to be here every day, he thought, as he slid into the familiar chair and gently held Elizabeth’s hand.
‘Hello, ‘Lizabeth. What should I tell you about today?
‘By my count it’s been a year since you were sent to Earth, so maybe you’d like to an update about things back home on ‘Lantis? Kate’s wedding? John and Teyla? The new ship? You know, I don’t mind, I’ll just sit here and tell you about them all as long as you can put up with my voice.’
He chuckled to himself and almost missed the soft press of her fingers squeezing against his.
:
:
:
:
