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Title: Broken Trust
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaps1870
Pairing: McShep
Rating: R for violence
Summary: Rodney tries to regain the trust he's lost only it doesn't work out like he plans
Disclaimer: Not mine, too bad.
A/N You all nagged me to post more, so you can't shoot the messenger!
Part One
Chapter 2
Two days later, Rodney eased his way down the ladder, his bruised and battered body resisting the movement. The beatings had gone on each day, until Rodney flinched at the slightest movement of his guards, afraid if he stopped moving they’d hit him again. It was never enough to really cause damage other than to make him sore as hell and adding to the growing number of bruises. He was tired, physically and mentally, and it did little to help his concentration during the long days of fiddling with useless machinery.
The meager food was barely enough to keep his hypoglycemia at bay, making him crankier than usual. His guilt over actually getting fed was compounded when he saw the faces of his teammates in the brief light each morning. Thankfully it was too dark by the time he returned at night and only had to witness their pitiful looks once a day. While he went above to work and ate his one meal a day, they were only allowed water. Seemed the Kormakans deemed them unworthy of their precious food resources.
Slipping down the ladder in the darkness, Rodney retreated to his corner without a word. Wrapping his hands around his knees, he rested his head, fighting back the nausea from the nearly constant headache. His hands had quit shaking after the last meal and the cold clamminess had disappeared but it would all return full force by morning, getting worse until the next meal arrived.
“We need to talk,” said Sheppard. His voice came out of the darkness, the closeness startling Rodney, not having heard him approach.
Scooting back to lean into the wall, Rodney grimaced in pain but kept from crying out. “About?”
“You’re gonna have to get us some food. I don’t know why we haven’t been rescued and we’re just getting weaker.”
“How do you propose I do that? I can’t carry soup in my pocket and I doubt my one piece of bread is going to split three ways.”
“Tell them you won’t work unless they hand over some food.”
Rodney actually laughed, “Oh right, Colonel. Before or after they beat me to death?”
Sheppard barked back, tired and irritated and it came out in his voice, “Would you listen to yourself? They aren’t going to hurt you. They need you.”
He tried to hide the rising panic. He’d asked for food every day and received a new round of bruises each day because of it. Rodney didn’t think threatening them with not working would sit to well with his captors and said as much to John. “I’ll be lucky if they don’t kill me.”
“God McKay, all you ever think of is yourself. In case you haven’t noticed we are starving here.” Sheppard huffed, “Trust me, they aren’t going to hurt you. They want their machinery fixed. You’re just using your skills as leverage to get us some food. They aren’t going to beat you for asking.”
All Rodney heard was trust me, the rest of the conversation was drowned out by those simple words. Rodney wondered if the Colonel had chosen them carefully or if he even realized how deeply they cut into him. Either way, Rodney couldn’t refuse and he half whispered in resignation, “I’ll do what I can.”
Falling asleep shortly after their conversation, McKay didn’t hear Teyla’s stern whispers to Colonel Sheppard, “You should not be so harsh with him, Colonel.”
“What?”
“He is doing the best that he can. He is all that is keeping us alive.”
“I was just trying to make him understand. You know how stubborn he can be,” said John, indignantly. He’d felt like shit as soon as the words ‘trust me’ had left his mouth but it was too late to take them back. It was too late for a lot of things.
“Has he not suffered enough? Isn’t it time you yourself made some attempt to resolve things between the two of you?”
“This isn’t a pissing contest. He screwed up. It’s not my fault.”
Teyla sighed, “No it is not. But then you didn’t have to accept his plan at the time, did you?”
John bristled then dropped his shoulders in defeat, knowing Teyla had seen the truth when he himself refused to. She seldom minced words and had an uncanny ability to see through people. It was part of what made her a good leader.
He was angry with Rodney, but he was angrier with himself. Yeah, McKay had made a mistake, a big one, but John had had the final say. He could have trusted his own gut instinct and denied Rodney’s request, but he’d let his friendship with the man sway his thinking. Seeing Rodney’s desperate need to find meaning in Collin’s death had been John’s undoing and he’d given in, despite his own misgivings. Even after Zelenka had voiced his concerns he could have pulled the plug and he hadn’t, letting Rodney have his way. It pissed him off that McKay had such power over him and even after all the apologies he still couldn’t forgive him. Not for blowing up the solar system, but for making it so damn hard not to care.
Since their falling out, John had carefully kept his distance from the scientist, knowing that they’d gotten ‘too close’ before the accident. John feared what would happen if he crossed that invisible line and let Rodney in completely. He would have no defenses against anything Rodney wanted and that scared him to death. Enough so that he was willing to push aside their friendship, and whatever else they’d been moving towards for the greater good of Atlantis.
*******
The bright light from above woke them and Rodney slowly got to his feet, noting his teammates moving lethargically in response to the morning intrusion. He glanced at them quickly and moved to the ladder giving Sheppard one last look before ducking his head and climbing out of the dark prison. Maybe if he could bring back the much needed food he would finally be granted forgiveness. He could do this.
Following his captors, Rodney contemplated how to approach the conversation about food and decided he might as well wait until he was feed. It would be easier to ease into it since they would be getting his food. It shouldn’t be too much trouble to prepare something for the others…hopefully. Not that Rodney had any real hope. Malevolent cosmic forces of late seem to swirl around him taking every opportunity to make his life miserable. He should have been expecting it.
“Look, they need some food.” He stood his ground, pasting on a face of false bravado as he continued, “If they don’t get fed, I don’t work. You don’t get your fancy machines...”
The first blow was only a glancing one and Rodney thought that maybe he’d escaped fate but the second one quickly reassured him that wasn’t the case. The third dropped him to his knees and he panted between gasps, holding his ribs as he glared at his captors through pain glazed eyes. “All I want is some food for my friends.” He flinched as they advanced and shouted desperately, “You kill me and you won’t get what you want either.”
Someone had snuck up behind him and the next blow took his breath away. Falling forward, his hands shot out to brace himself, keeping him from landing face first on the floor. Sweat beaded on his brow and he clenched his teeth against the pain as he turned his head to look up at his captors. They stood over him menacingly and Rodney swallowed hard before pleading, “Don’t do this. I just want some food for them. You can’t expect me to keep working if you’re slowly killing them.”
His stomach exploded in agony as one booted foot made contact, lifting him a few inches off the floor in the process. No longer able to hold himself up, he crumbled to the floor. Their hitting and kicking continued and there was little Rodney could do but curl around himself, covering his vital areas from the worst of it. Arms instinctively protected his head and the few kicks that landed hit his hands, breaking fingers and leaving bruises. The pain blurred with the rest and it was hard to pinpoint the worst of it as each blow only added to his torture. He kept on about the food until his voice gave out and it was too hard to even draw the breath to speak.
It seemed to go on forever, the pain worsening until it became blinding and he slipped into the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness.
Part Three
Author:
chaps1870Pairing: McShep
Rating: R for violence
Summary: Rodney tries to regain the trust he's lost only it doesn't work out like he plans
Disclaimer: Not mine, too bad.
A/N You all nagged me to post more, so you can't shoot the messenger!
Part One
Chapter 2
Two days later, Rodney eased his way down the ladder, his bruised and battered body resisting the movement. The beatings had gone on each day, until Rodney flinched at the slightest movement of his guards, afraid if he stopped moving they’d hit him again. It was never enough to really cause damage other than to make him sore as hell and adding to the growing number of bruises. He was tired, physically and mentally, and it did little to help his concentration during the long days of fiddling with useless machinery.
The meager food was barely enough to keep his hypoglycemia at bay, making him crankier than usual. His guilt over actually getting fed was compounded when he saw the faces of his teammates in the brief light each morning. Thankfully it was too dark by the time he returned at night and only had to witness their pitiful looks once a day. While he went above to work and ate his one meal a day, they were only allowed water. Seemed the Kormakans deemed them unworthy of their precious food resources.
Slipping down the ladder in the darkness, Rodney retreated to his corner without a word. Wrapping his hands around his knees, he rested his head, fighting back the nausea from the nearly constant headache. His hands had quit shaking after the last meal and the cold clamminess had disappeared but it would all return full force by morning, getting worse until the next meal arrived.
“We need to talk,” said Sheppard. His voice came out of the darkness, the closeness startling Rodney, not having heard him approach.
Scooting back to lean into the wall, Rodney grimaced in pain but kept from crying out. “About?”
“You’re gonna have to get us some food. I don’t know why we haven’t been rescued and we’re just getting weaker.”
“How do you propose I do that? I can’t carry soup in my pocket and I doubt my one piece of bread is going to split three ways.”
“Tell them you won’t work unless they hand over some food.”
Rodney actually laughed, “Oh right, Colonel. Before or after they beat me to death?”
Sheppard barked back, tired and irritated and it came out in his voice, “Would you listen to yourself? They aren’t going to hurt you. They need you.”
He tried to hide the rising panic. He’d asked for food every day and received a new round of bruises each day because of it. Rodney didn’t think threatening them with not working would sit to well with his captors and said as much to John. “I’ll be lucky if they don’t kill me.”
“God McKay, all you ever think of is yourself. In case you haven’t noticed we are starving here.” Sheppard huffed, “Trust me, they aren’t going to hurt you. They want their machinery fixed. You’re just using your skills as leverage to get us some food. They aren’t going to beat you for asking.”
All Rodney heard was trust me, the rest of the conversation was drowned out by those simple words. Rodney wondered if the Colonel had chosen them carefully or if he even realized how deeply they cut into him. Either way, Rodney couldn’t refuse and he half whispered in resignation, “I’ll do what I can.”
Falling asleep shortly after their conversation, McKay didn’t hear Teyla’s stern whispers to Colonel Sheppard, “You should not be so harsh with him, Colonel.”
“What?”
“He is doing the best that he can. He is all that is keeping us alive.”
“I was just trying to make him understand. You know how stubborn he can be,” said John, indignantly. He’d felt like shit as soon as the words ‘trust me’ had left his mouth but it was too late to take them back. It was too late for a lot of things.
“Has he not suffered enough? Isn’t it time you yourself made some attempt to resolve things between the two of you?”
“This isn’t a pissing contest. He screwed up. It’s not my fault.”
Teyla sighed, “No it is not. But then you didn’t have to accept his plan at the time, did you?”
John bristled then dropped his shoulders in defeat, knowing Teyla had seen the truth when he himself refused to. She seldom minced words and had an uncanny ability to see through people. It was part of what made her a good leader.
He was angry with Rodney, but he was angrier with himself. Yeah, McKay had made a mistake, a big one, but John had had the final say. He could have trusted his own gut instinct and denied Rodney’s request, but he’d let his friendship with the man sway his thinking. Seeing Rodney’s desperate need to find meaning in Collin’s death had been John’s undoing and he’d given in, despite his own misgivings. Even after Zelenka had voiced his concerns he could have pulled the plug and he hadn’t, letting Rodney have his way. It pissed him off that McKay had such power over him and even after all the apologies he still couldn’t forgive him. Not for blowing up the solar system, but for making it so damn hard not to care.
Since their falling out, John had carefully kept his distance from the scientist, knowing that they’d gotten ‘too close’ before the accident. John feared what would happen if he crossed that invisible line and let Rodney in completely. He would have no defenses against anything Rodney wanted and that scared him to death. Enough so that he was willing to push aside their friendship, and whatever else they’d been moving towards for the greater good of Atlantis.
*******
The bright light from above woke them and Rodney slowly got to his feet, noting his teammates moving lethargically in response to the morning intrusion. He glanced at them quickly and moved to the ladder giving Sheppard one last look before ducking his head and climbing out of the dark prison. Maybe if he could bring back the much needed food he would finally be granted forgiveness. He could do this.
Following his captors, Rodney contemplated how to approach the conversation about food and decided he might as well wait until he was feed. It would be easier to ease into it since they would be getting his food. It shouldn’t be too much trouble to prepare something for the others…hopefully. Not that Rodney had any real hope. Malevolent cosmic forces of late seem to swirl around him taking every opportunity to make his life miserable. He should have been expecting it.
“Look, they need some food.” He stood his ground, pasting on a face of false bravado as he continued, “If they don’t get fed, I don’t work. You don’t get your fancy machines...”
The first blow was only a glancing one and Rodney thought that maybe he’d escaped fate but the second one quickly reassured him that wasn’t the case. The third dropped him to his knees and he panted between gasps, holding his ribs as he glared at his captors through pain glazed eyes. “All I want is some food for my friends.” He flinched as they advanced and shouted desperately, “You kill me and you won’t get what you want either.”
Someone had snuck up behind him and the next blow took his breath away. Falling forward, his hands shot out to brace himself, keeping him from landing face first on the floor. Sweat beaded on his brow and he clenched his teeth against the pain as he turned his head to look up at his captors. They stood over him menacingly and Rodney swallowed hard before pleading, “Don’t do this. I just want some food for them. You can’t expect me to keep working if you’re slowly killing them.”
His stomach exploded in agony as one booted foot made contact, lifting him a few inches off the floor in the process. No longer able to hold himself up, he crumbled to the floor. Their hitting and kicking continued and there was little Rodney could do but curl around himself, covering his vital areas from the worst of it. Arms instinctively protected his head and the few kicks that landed hit his hands, breaking fingers and leaving bruises. The pain blurred with the rest and it was hard to pinpoint the worst of it as each blow only added to his torture. He kept on about the food until his voice gave out and it was too hard to even draw the breath to speak.
It seemed to go on forever, the pain worsening until it became blinding and he slipped into the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness.
Part Three
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I hope you're happy. Actually, I know your happy. *mutters more about evil authors, whumped woobies, and broken body parts* Just, post the next part. Soon.
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