Hello, all! I'm sure there are many of these stories out there, and no copying is intended on my part (I'm sure someone else already had this idea). I hope you all enjoy it, however, as it is purely in fun. If you read, PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of the characters or places herby mentioned.
Dr. Rodney Mckay's Diary
Day 1: Let me just begin by saying I hate diaries. This whole thing was Dr. Hetimeyer's idea, and I have been putting it off. But now that she has had her untimely demise, I have determined to do a week of journaling in memory of her. Seven days! Seven days of pure torture where I spill my guts over and over again on a piece of paper. The worst part of journaling is that the paper could care less about your problems. No one will ever know, which is a grave injustice to my way of thinking because I believe all the world should know my inner terrors and tremble! I'd like to see Ronin go through life as me.
Day 2: My life is a tragedy. Tragicness follows me around like a sad lost puppy. I know tragicness isn't a word, but I figure if I can write a new math then I can write a Ebonics of my own. Therefore, my journal will be filled with Dr. Rodney Mckayisms! And woe to all who oppose me, because if you're reading this then you are most likely Sheppard and I am dead, and so I will haunt you forever… let's just get back to tragedy.
It all started the day I was born. Who in their right mind would name their only son Meredith?! Granted, at the time they had me they didn't know I was going to be their only son, but I don't think they cared because "little sister" was always their favorite. She used to torment me all the time and get away with it constantly. The ONE time I got her back by gluing her physics book shut, my father made me de-glue the book and then buy her a new one. The unjustness of it all! The indignationess! The unfair favoritismness! Needless to say, I was scarred for life.
Speaking of being scarred for life, another way my family messed me up royally was to read me Moby Dick. OK, I know it's fiction. Where else would you find a crazy sea captain chasing an albino whale around the ocean with a crew of psychopaths, a creepy guy who decides when he does and doesn't want to die, and a naive schoolboy in the family's repertoire for bedtime story reading? Come on, no wonder I have problems! I should have had nice bedtime reading, like "Little Red Riding Hood." No wait, bad example. Like: "The Little Mermaid." Wait, another bad example. Well… it doesn't really matter, it's the principal of the thing!
Day 3: One thing I don't understand about my team and people in general are their heartfelt ways of making you feel good about yourself, and then their ability to blast you afterwards. For instance, take today. I was fighting with Ronin (and holding my own rather quite nicely when he didn't move), and I actually hit him! He then proceeded to knock the stick out of my hand and gently beat me up, but the point is I hit him! Everything was great, Teyla and Sheppard where so happy and even Ronin was smiling. We went to the commissary to celebrate, and they had LEMON CAKE!
Now, everyone on base knows I HATE lemon cake. Much more, they know I am ALLERGIC to citrus and that I can DIE if I eat it! I wanted to write the cook up for attempted murder, but John, Ronin, and Teyla all grabbed a piece and began eating it in front of me. The worst part of this all was is that there was no normal cake, so I was stuck with one of those disgusting chocolate power bars again.
I've secretly always wanted to know what lemons tasted like, specifically lemonade. After the orange juice incident and preceding hospital ride, I was left with only my imagination to help me taste a world which I could never again enter. I know, it sounds stupid and petty (apparently like everything I say), but I've always wanted to taste what everyone else raves about. As I sat there in the commissary with my crummy power bar, I watched them eat their golden fluffy slices of cake and I thought to myself that lemons must taste like sunshine. Like pure sunlight mixed with honey. It always makes the people who eat it so cheery, so lemons must be something good. I'm actually glad that the world has lemons, if it can cheer my friends up. I just wish they didn't have such a delight in teasing me over them.
Day 4: I saw Keller today. Man, that woman is cute! Well, not that any other woman on Atlantis isn't nice looking, but I've never met a woman in space who is not like She-Ra. Keller is smallish and petite, and I heard from Lorne that she is afraid of heights, among other things. Imagine, a doctor with fears, just like me! I think she is a kindred spirit, but after my whole disaster with Katie I don't really want to start another relationship so soon. I have a plan, however, that will get me seeing Keller more often. Hopefully, she will see the amazing wonder I am and will want to ask me on a date.
Later: Sheppard says I need to ask her on a date. Never confide in Captain Kirk!
Day 5: My plan needs work. In theory it was good because it brought me into sickbay or whatever the soldiers call it. It was bad in that I had to be injured to go there. I needed three stitches! Keller told me to quit being a baby; that I could probably get away with bandaging the cut on my hand. But I told her my hands are important to me for my scientific work. She giggled at that. I made her laugh! Unfortunately, I think it was for the wrong reasons. It's not fair. Some men like Sheppard are blessed with good looks and a suavity that rivals James Bond. And if they don't have that they have the "I'm a hero and will carry you five miles to a hospital if needed" strength like Ronin, that runs in the line of Rambo. And if they still don't have that, then they have Zelenka's luck with having a cool accent and an ability for chess that isn't fair because chess wasn't popular until some weird person turned the game into a musical. What have I got? Just my immense intelligence, modest looks, and an amazing sense of humor and sensitivity. If I were rich I could be Bruce Wayne! It's a pity that most women can't see that.
Day 6: The thing I don't understand about woman leaders is this: why can't they just admit they have FEELINGS! They look hard and rigid like politicians and then they blow up in this tornado of femininity. It's like living under the command of a lioness. One day, they protect you, and then the next day they eat you. And since I am the leading expert on leadership around here, I ought to know!
Sam Carter has always been my idol. Then, I met Katie, and the world turned upside down. Finally, I came back to earth only to discover that Sam has one secret even she cannot face: she is in love with a man way too old for her! Not that he was that old when SG-1 started going through the gate; I think knowing Daniel Jackson aged him about twenty years. General O'Neil is a nice guy, but please, what does he have that I don't have? I tell you what he hasn't got; he hasn't got much years left. If he loves Sam, he should tell her instead of wasting his life away. Goodness knows I've tried several times to tell Sam my feelings, but overall I know she doesn't care. She doesn't even know what she wants, but one thing is sure; she doesn't want me. Sometimes I would just rather not be me. But then I see myself in the mirror and I think, "Well, at least you've still got your looks, and your brain." Then a list starts to compile, and I get distracted again.
Later: I saw Sheppard standing on Weir's balcony. I felt a pang for him, but I didn't stop to say hi. When he is on that balcony, no one ever stops to speak to him (except perhaps Carter, but mostly everyone else leaves Weir's balcony alone). I think John really did love her; he did so much to keep her safe, and he even did things no one ever noticed, like putting power bars in her desk drawer or sending flowers from the mainland to her room. It's his deepest, darkest secret, but every time he was on the mainland with Teyla he picked a couple of flowers and set them up in Weir's room. Of course, Weir would notice and to her it was a big old mystery. And Sheppard ran with it too, teasing Weir that she had a secret admirer. I only knew the truth because, unlike others in this base, I have a romantic bone in my body and understand that a man needs to win his woman. He needs to fight to win her, he needs to be bold. I was going to write more, but then Keller came around the corner and I hid in a closet.
Day 7: I had the most frightening nightmare last night. I dreamt that a premature ice age hit Atlantis. Everything became frozen; ice froze over all the locks and people were turned into freezing statues in the hallway. Keller turned the infirmary into a gigantic bonfire, trying to keep people warm. And then, it became dark. Keller had gone to look for Zelenka of all people; he had gone to fetch wood or something burnable. And I went after her, because it was too cold to be out but I'm Canadian and can deal with the cold. And Keller was standing under the stars, looking like she was sculpted out of pure starlight… and I felt my heart begin to burn… and then she was eaten by a whale.
I woke up terrified. I was so shaken by the dream that I spent an hour trying to come up with some ailment so I could visit sickbay. I finally ended up picking up a knife and contemplated cutting my hand. I stood there resolved until I thought of all the blood that would spill out, and I figured I couldn't do it. Luckily, all that resolution gave me a headache, and so I went to the infirmary for some painkillers. At first, I didn't see her, and my headache started to turn into a migraine. Then, she came into the office yawning.
"Rodney," she groaned as she doled out the medicine, "It's four in the morning. Don't you carry painkiller on you?"
I was about to answer something clever when Ronin of all people came in with a deep gash in his arm. "I was working out," he said in his ultra-buff voice, "and my wound from the last sparring match re-opened. Could you stitch it up, Doc?"
I watched as Keller grinned and her eyes shone. Sure, yeah, Ronin is cool. Some may even find him attractive. But right now, all I want to do is punch him in the face.
Unfortunately, such an action may kill me, and so I am stuck just going back to bed. Well, so much for this journal. There's really no point to it anyway; my life story is what most great works of literature are. My life is a tragedy.