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Okay, I wrote this story ages ago in response to a challenge and I admit it was written in a big ass hurry. Surprisingly, it's actually been one of my more popular stories despite the fact that it had some issues that should have been fixed but I was too lazy. Well, I did some work on it and I think it's better this way. Maybe not perfect but certainly better.
Title: Deprivation
Author: Chaps1870
Rating: PG
Pairing: McShep
Spoilers: Season 2, Siege 3
As usual, feel free to blame my beta![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
misty4me for any mistakes.
He was tired. So damn tired. But every time he tried to close his eyes to rest, someone was there to remind him that there was something else that needed his attention. First it was Teyla, reminding him the Wraith were still in the city. How could he possibly go to sleep after that guilt trip? That little problem cleared away and he was halted on his way to his quarters by Zelenka. The deep space sensors were back online and the Wraith were coming in for a second round. That seemed like days ago. Actually it was a day and a half ago and he’d managed about three hours of sleep in that time. His body was running on empty when Elizabeth finally declared the city safe during the staff meeting and suggested everyone get some rest.
She’d get no argument from him. As the meeting was breaking up, Zelenka appeared. “The transporters have suddenly stopped working.”
Rodney’s shoulders slumped in frustration and exhaustion. Seeing his reaction, Dr. Weir chimed in, “Can’t someone else fix them?”
“Dr. Kavanagh has volunteered but he did not do so well the last time,” Radek said, his face giving away his worry that it would be allowed again.
“Yes, I remember,” sighed Elizabeth. He’d messed them up so badly that it was a random guess where you’d end up if you dared take the chance and use them. “Rodney, is there someone else that can fix them?”
Sighing heavily, Rodney rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “No one I’d trust to do it right. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You don’t always have to be the one to fix everything, Rodney. It’s why you have people working for you,” John said, still sitting in his chair, fighting a yawn.
“It would take someone else five or six hours, Colonel. I can do it in one.”
“Sucks being the smartest man in the Galaxy,” countered Sheppard, a little frustrated at Rodney’s work ethic. He rose to his feet, moving closer to the door as he spoke, “Let somebody else to it Rodney. You’re barely on your feet as it is. The last thing we need is for you to screw up and somebody get hurt because you aren’t thinking clearly.”
Rodney shook his head, mirroring Zelenka’s concern, “No, if Kavanagh gets his hands on it there’s no telling what damage he’ll do. For some reason he seems to think he’s the resident expert on transporters.” He gave Radek a light push towards the door, “We’d better hurry before he makes it any worse than it already is.” He looked over his shoulder at John and noting his disappointment, shrugged an apology and hurried after the other scientist.
It took over an hour to fix the transporters. It ended up being at the main transporter control on level four and Kavanagh stood over their shoulders the entire time, insisting he could fix it and telling them they were going about it all wrong. As self-proclaimed expert, nothing they did appeased him and he kept insisting his way was the better way. Zelenka was ready to kill the man before they finished and when Rodney finally replaced the outer panel, he let out a heavy sigh. Still hunkered under the console McKay muttered to Radek, “Go to bed, I’ll run the diagnostics real quick and finish it up. Take numbnuts with you so I don’t have to listen to him.”
Zelenka yawned. “Are you sure?”
Rodney waved him away, “Yes, yes, just go.” He got to his feet, ignoring both men and wasn’t aware that Kavanagh had stayed behind, sulking in the corner watching his every move. Rodney rubbed his eyes, willing them to focus on the readouts. He dozed off once as the final check was done but jerked awake when his computer beeped at him. Seeing that everything was clear, he shut down his laptop and gathering it under his arm, left the room. The nearest transporter was at the end of the corridor and he stayed close to the wall, letting it guide him. He was afraid that any other way would have him staggering down the hall like a drunk.
Entering the lift, he pressed his destination, anxious to get to his room in hopes that John might still be waiting. The transporter shuddered and suddenly he was lifted off his feet and slammed to the floor as the inside erupted in a bright flash of light. There was little time to react and he barely got his hand out to brace his fall when he heard the ominous sound of bone breaking. Fire danced in his arm for only a fraction of a second before the pain sent him crashing into oblivion.
When he woke to the throbbing ache in his arm, he had no idea how long he’d been out. Pulling himself to his feet, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs away then carefully wrapped his sore arm to his chest before zipping his jacket up to hold it in place. Immobilizing it helped and he stepped forward ready to leave the transport, barely managing to keep from slamming face first into the doors when they refused to open. After several attempts and some fiddling with the inner panel they finally slid open. The hallway was empty and he wondered if anyone was even aware of the explosion. Reaching to his ear for his radio, he realized he’d left it in the lab. He thought of returning but was in no way tempted to enter the lift and see if they were still working. He opted to walk to the infirmary and call someone from there.
As he got closer, he heard voices getting louder and louder and was suddenly pushed aside as two corpsman rushed by with a gurney. He hurried behind them, eyes glazed over from the pain but ignoring it, as he worried that he hadn’t been the only one injured by the transport malfunction. Sleep was momentarily forgotten as his concern mounted. The hallway was littered with people and he could hear muted screams from within the infirmary. He rushed through the doors, stopping just inside, stunned by the sheer volume of people. Almost every cubicle was filled as doctors and nurses hovered over the injured. He barely had time to react, when he was pushed into the wall by a very irate Colonel Sheppard. “What the hell happened? We’ve got over 20 people hurt. Damn it, I told you to get some sleep, but you had to play superman and fix it yourself.”
Rodney paled, as much from his words as the sudden agony in his arm from being jarred. “I fixed it. I don’t know what happened.”
“Look around, Rodney. People are dead,” growled John. He didn’t say ‘because of you’ but Rodney could hear it just the same. “I lost three of my men and six more are injured. God knows how many others. Anybody that happened to be in a transporter at the time was hurt.” John glared at him then angrily released him, pushing him harder into the wall.
Stunned by John’s behavior and shocked by what he’d said, Rodney stared at him in disbelief, “I… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Just…” He paused, closing his eyes and clenching his fists before he let out a breath, “Just stay out of my sight, McKay.”
“I need to see Carson,” said Rodney, his voice barely whispered.
John didn’t seem to care as he growled at Rodney, “He’s busy taking care of the injured, so I suggest you get the hell out of here and let him do his job. I doubt very much if you’d get much sympathy from him either. He lost a few of his own. Go to bed, like you should have hours ago. I’m sure Elizabeth will find you when this is all over.”
Without another word, John stormed away, leaving Rodney standing with his back to the wall, shaking and sweating from it all. He stood for several minutes then holding his arm tightly to his chest, tried to get the attention of one of the medical personnel. After several disgusted looks or an I’m too busy, Rodney stumbled out of the infirmary. How he made it to his room he had no idea but suddenly he was standing at his door with no clue how he’d gotten there. His arm was throbbing unmercifully and he was no longer thinking clearly. Feeling disjointed from his body, he staggered into his room where he collapsed onto the bed, letting sleep take him from the nightmare.
The next time he woke was to the pounding on his door. Rolling over, he tried to sit up, but was jerked awake by the sudden pain in his arm as it tangled in the blankets, causing him to cry out. He grabbed it to his chest, rocking with the pain when the door slid open revealing Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard. The door slid shut behind them as they stepped into the room. He froze at their hardened expressions and made a bid for his innocence, “I didn’t do this. I fixed it.”
“I’m sorry, Rodney but the evidence says otherwise.” Rodney tried to speak up, but she waved him off, her impatience clear. John stood behind her, staring straight ahead with his military face on, ignoring Rodney completely. Dr. Weir continued, “Dr. Kavanagh and Dr. Zelenka both state that you were the last person to work on the system. You should know that we lost eight people and sixteen others are lying in the infirmary from various injuries, some serious. As of now, you are confined to quarters until such time that Dr. Beckett clears you. You will not be allowed to do any work until you’ve caught up on your sleep. Had I known that you were disobeying orders to get sleep, I would have confined you a lot sooner and perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. For that I take some of the blame. However, as Chief Science Officer it is your job to assign work to your colleagues, not take it all upon yourself.” Glancing at Colonel Sheppard, Elizabeth added reluctantly, “In light of that, Dr. Zelenka will be in charge in the interim.”
Rodney stared at her, barely registering what she was saying. People were dead because of him. He was so sure he’d fixed the transporter but Zelenka wouldn’t lie, even to cover his ass and seeds of doubt laid claim to his certainty. He had no response. Tired and hurting, the guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. Lifting his head, he looked at both of them and muttered softly, “I’m sorry.” Judging by their expressions, his apology was apparently enough to confirm his guilt.
“I’m sorry too, Rodney. Get some rest and we’ll talk more when Carson has cleared you,” said Elizabeth, her voice emotionless, but the anger and disappointment in her stiff posture were unmistakable.
One look at Sheppard and Rodney saw the same thing in his eyes. Whatever they’d shared in the days before the Wraith had appeared was gone now. John only stared at Rodney with a cold, hard look. Hurt by their lack of confidence and easy blame, Rodney didn’t wait for them to leave. He simply turned away and curled up on the bed, waiting until the door opened and closed before he let the tears that were building escape.
Much later, his arm throbbing unmercifully, he tried to contact Carson, but was told repeatedly the doctor was busy and he would have to wait. He even tried pleading with the guard stationed outside his door, but the man refused, stating quite clearly that it would be a cold day in hell before he helped the man that killed three of his friends. With the pain escalating and no other options, Rodney carefully removed his coat to tend to his own injured arm. The swelling made it difficult and he fought to stay conscious through most of it. Thankfully he was wearing a short sleeve shirt so he could see the damage without further aggravating it.
It appeared to be a clean break and hadn’t broken the surface of his arm, but it was protruding sharply against the skin and the sight alone made him nauseous. Glancing around the room he looked for something that might work as a splint. He found a couple of pencils, not ideal but workable and with an elastic wrap from the first aid kit in his bathroom he steeled himself to set the break. Lying on his stomach on the bed, he carefully wedged his hand in the headboard for leverage. Not wanting to dwell on how much it was going to hurt, he took a couple of deep breaths and shifted his weight to the end of the bed. His arm straightened and he screamed into his pillow, panting harshly and sweating profusely as the bone slipped back into place. It took several minutes before he found the strength to grab for the splints and wrap the broken limb. When it was finally done, he allowed himself to pass out.
Waking the next time, he found food on the table, but after only a few bites he pushed it away and returned to bed, letting sleep take away his pain and misery. The pattern repeated itself for several days. No one came to visit and the few times he was awake when food arrived the deliverer refused to speak to him. By the time Carson finally showed up, Rodney was past any desire for conversation.
As soon as Carson appeared, Rodney knew he’d lost yet another friend. Dr. Beckett stood at his bed, his tone very professional. “Have you been sleeping?”
Rodney pulled the blankets tighter around himself. “Yes. You can go away now.”
“I need to look at you. Make sure you’re alright.”
He snapped back, “Should have thought of that days ago, Doctor.”
“I’ve been busy. I sent a nurse to check up on you, but you were sleeping.”
“Thanks for your concern. I don’t need your help any more so just go.” Even after this long his arm still ached and was a painful reminder of how little anyone cared.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Rodney. I’m hopin’ that maybe you’ve learned something from all this. We need you here, but you can’t do it all despite bein’ a genius. People are dead, Rodney,” Carson’s voice caught, “People I called friends.”
Rodney sat up quickly, regretting it when his arm shifted. He winced at the sudden pain. “Get the hell out. I don’t need you or anybody else telling me I messed up. Don’t you think I know that? What do you think I’ve been doing for days on end? You don’t think I’ve replayed the whole thing over and over in my head. I still can’t figure out what happened or why, because as far as I know the transporter should have worked.” His voice broke and he dropped his head, “Just get out.”
Carson stared at him, surprised by the scientist’s admission. More alarming was the way he was holding his arm and the bandage that covered it. “What’s wrong with your arm?”
Lying back down, Rodney’s voice was mere whisper as he curled up on the bed, “Nothing, go away.”
Moving closer to the bed, his concern growing, Carson asked, his voice not as harsh as earlier, “Let me look at it.”
“It’s fine. I took care of it myself.”
“What did you do to it?”
“I broke it. It’s fine now. Just go away and leave me alone.”
Carson voiced his cynicism, “How do ya know it’s broken? You’re not a doctor.”
Rodney sat up again, glaring at Carson, his anger bursting, “How do I know it’s broke? Because I fucking set it myself.”
Aghast, Carson stared at him with wide eyes. “Why did you not get someone?”
“You think I didn’t try. I practically begged your staff.” He mocked them, “I’m sorry the good doctor is busy. I can’t leave here, Carson. I’m locked up, remember. If you think the guards are sympathetic then think again. I had to set my own arm because I couldn’t get any one on YOUR staff to listen to me. You think about that the next time you’re condemning me and my work habits.”
“I’m sorry,” muttered Carson, his eyes downcast.
Rodney sank back to the bed, exhausted and hurting. His voice was filled with despair as he uttered quietly, “Just leave me alone. I don’t need any of you. Tell Elizabeth I’m all rested up and she can schedule the public hanging.”
With no other choice, Carson backed out of the room, still stunned by Rodney’s words. Maybe they’d all been a little harsh, ignoring the scientist’s feelings in lieu of their own towards the death of friends and colleagues.
An hour later, Carson, Elizabeth and John were knocking on his door. Their faces were filled with guilt and they did their best to apologize. It fell flat. It was too little too late and there was still the distant blame behind their eyes that couldn’t be denied. He dismissed them after Elizabeth stated that he was no longer confined to quarters and was free to return to work, albeit under Dr. Zelenka’s supervision. They had no idea how to deal with the situation of punishing his actions when he was needed to keep Atlantis running. In the end, they wrote it up as the result of physical exhaustion and sleep deprivation. While the blame for the accident was clearly on his shoulders, problems with new systems coming online had baffled most of the scientists and they reluctantly admitted that Dr. McKay was needed back in service.
Carson and Elizabeth left first after a promise that Rodney would visit the infirmary and have his arm x-rayed and put in a proper cast. John stood by the door unsure how to say what he needed to say. “I’m sorry about your arm. I should have listened. I’ll be having a talk with my men.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the Colonel, Rodney scrubbed one hand through his hair, “If that’s it, you can go. I need a shower. Duty calls you know.”
“Rodney… I’ve… I’ve decided maybe it’s better if you no longer went on missions. I think it might be easier if you concentrate your work here on Atlantis instead of spreading yourself so thin.”
Rodney’s hurt at being dismissed so easily was quickly replaced with anger. “I didn’t cause the accident. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t anything I did.”
“God McKay, people are dead and you still can’t admit you made a mistake,” Sheppard glowered, his anger mounting. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm down. He wasn’t there to fight. “You were tired, shit happens. I’m not here to argue with you.”
“Then why are you here? If it’s to tell me that you don’t want anything to do with me. I got that part.” Rodney shook his head as he huffed, “It was nice while it lasted, Colonel but like you said, it was just two buddies fucking. I’m sure you’ll find a replacement in no time.”
McKay might as well have stabbed him with a knife, his words sharp enough to hurt. John lashed out, “You are a heartless bastard, McKay. Doesn’t anything get inside you?”
Rodney looked at him for the first time, and Sheppard was taken aback by his haggard features. He obviously hadn’t been taking care of himself. It surprised John how much it hurt to see Rodney looking so worn, even after hearing what he had to say. The despair was hidden behind his words. “I’ve been around long enough to know that it doesn’t pay to get close to anyone because eventually it just bites you in the ass.”
“You let me close,” John frowned.
“Yes, well that turned out well didn’t it? Look around, Colonel. I’ve been locked up for almost a week and this is the first time you’ve seen fit to even show your face. You’ll forgive me if I don’t find your sudden concern sincere.”
“Fine, McKay.” He turned to the door, hiding the hurt in his eyes. “See ya around.”
Hearing the door close, Rodney sat very still, his eyes vacant as his mind drifted over events that had gotten him where he was. It hurt to be accused of killing people and to be treated so callously by those he thought were his friends, but worse was how easily John had cast him aside. Before the Wraith attacked they had finally moved that one step beyond friendship to something more, finding time in their schedules for a few moments together. Whether it was for a quick release or just to talk, they sought each other out for the chance to be together. He tried to convince himself it was nothing more than a release from the tension they were all feeling, but it felt like more at the time. Or at least he’d thought so. Now he wasn’t so sure and it hurt to think that he’d been fooled by the Colonel. Obviously he’d fallen for the ‘I care for you’ crap again and like all the times before he was left with nothing.
He finally pushed himself off the bed and trudged to the bathroom. With some effort he managed to shower and shave, difficult with only one arm. Getting dressed, he reluctantly went to Beckett. The good doctor was civil, even tried to be sociable but Rodney ignored it all and let him do his work with comment. He left the infirmary without having spoken a word.
Arm casted and in a sling, Rodney made his way to the lab. Every person he passed along the way stepped aside, not bothering to hide their utter contempt for him. He walked faster, kept his head down to hide the redness in his face as he hurried towards the lab. It was bustling with activity when he arrived but an awkward silence descended as soon as the entered the room. Some faces glared openly, others ducked to keep from looking at him. Excuses followed and in minutes only Dr. Zelenka remained.
Rodney frowned at him, “Don’t you have somewhere to be too?”
Radek shook his head, “No. I am good where I am.”
Making his way to his desk, Rodney asked, “What do you want me to do?” Radek looked surprised. “You’re in charge aren’t you? Elizabeth informed me that you are to supervise me. I suppose that means baby-sit so I don’t kill anyone else.”
“I did not want this, but it was me or let Kavanagh take over. I did not think you would want that.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” said Rodney, his voice barely disguising his bitterness.
Radek looked over his laptop, “I know you did nothing wrong. When I went to repair the system, it was as you left it. There was nothing wrong with it. I did a test run and the system worked perfectly. I do not understand why the explosions happened.”
“Did you tell Elizabeth that?”
“I tried, but she insisted that you must have changed something after I left you.” Radek looked at him, his eyebrow cocked, “You didn’t work on it after I left, did you?”
“No. I ran the diagnostics then left. When I activated the transporter it blew. They all blew.”
“I thought perhaps you worked on it again. I remembered you replacing the panel before I left but it was off when I returned to check the damage.”
Rodney shook his head, “It wasn’t me. I went straight to the infirmary. Maybe the blast tore it off.”
“Maybe.” Pushing up his glasses, Radek shrugged, “I could use your help Rodney. Everyone is trying to bring new systems online with the new ZPM and none of them are working as they should be. I am trying to keep up but I do not understand the interfacing as well as you and I am tired of grumpy scientists demanding I fix what they have destroyed.”
Sighing, Rodney shook his head in frustration. “So much for sleeping. What have you got up so far?”
Radek stood, bringing his PDA with him as he approached Rodney’s desk. “This is list of what has been done in your absence. I trust you to find what is priority. I will let you decide what you wish to do with your time. You did not need me to tell you what to do before, so I doubt you will need it now.” He looked Rodney in the eye as he added, “Do what you need to do, I will not interfere.”
Rodney glanced at the PDA, scanning it for information on what had been done to date. “I’ll go check out the recycling first.” It was no coincidence that he chose to work in the deepest part of Atlantis.
He rose but Radek stopped him with a word of caution, “I think you should know that Kavanagh has turned many to his cause. You won’t find too many on your side, Rodney.”
Snorting, Rodney feigned a smile, “What’s new? I can work alone if I have to. As for Kavanagh, I learned to dismiss his mouth and his superego months ago.” Grabbing some of his equipment, Rodney prepared to leave. At the door he turned back to Zelenka, “Um…thanks for…” He paused, “Well…just thanks.”
Radek nodded at him then waved him off. “Go, before they destroy Atlantis and it cannot be fixed. I am too busy to watch you every second of day.”
******
Rodney’s days were busy. He worked as much as was physically possible, checking and double checking his work to make sure no mistakes were made. When dizziness forced him to stop, he ate something he’d grabbed from the mess hall, usually only enough to keep him going. Food no longer had the same draw it used to and it was merely a way to keep from passing out now. Sometimes he could be found sitting at a lonely table in the corner of the mess hall but more often than not he just ate a powerbar or MRE in his room.
No one wanted to be seen with him and unless Zelenka was around he ate alone. In fact he did everything alone these days. He wandered the corridors of Atlantis going from one system to the next, fixing what needed to be fixed without pause. No one talked to him unless it was to impart information and even that was usually tinged with hostility. At the end of the day he’d crash on his bed but seldom got a full night’s sleep. With scientists working around the clock, his input was required at any given time and he would be pulled from sleep to insure that whatever system had malfunctioned was again working properly. It was an endless cycle but it kept him busy and even more important it kept him from thinking about how pathetic his existence was.
He no longer attended staff meetings and any information necessary for said meetings was imparted through Zelenka. He did his job and nothing more. No one made attempt to associate or even acknowledge him and he drew into himself, ignoring their contemptuous looks. Kavanagh spent his time gloating about Rodney’s incompetence to anyone that would listen. He lived to ridicule McKay, pointing out that he no longer had to listen to the scientist because he wasn’t in charge.
Rodney ignored it all. When someone wasn’t performing up to his expectations, he simply fixed it himself. It ate up time and caused less conflict. As the days turned to weeks, he became invisible, showing up when something needed to be done and then disappearing.
Zelenka was growing more and more concerned as Rodney became more and more withdrawn. No one but himself seemed to notice that the once overweight scientist was becoming painfully thin and haggard. He’d found him more than once sitting alone in some stairwell half asleep, shaking from hunger. He plied him with food and it was eaten half heartedly. Rodney would thank him and walk away to find something to occupy his time. Atlantis had never run as smoothly. The scientists rode on McKay’s coattails, bragging about their own worth and expertise. None of the powers that be were any wiser. They all assumed that the scientists were finally finding their own now that Dr. McKay wasn’t riding their backs all the time.
As with most things, one thing led to another until finally the truth of things began to seep through the cracks and everything came to a head at one of the weekly meetings. Colonel Sheppard was the first to bring it to their attention. Contrary to what Rodney thought, the Colonel had been keeping track of him, his ears open to anything regarding the scientist. He was surprised by how often the McKay was pulled from sleep for the simplest task. Like a dog on a bone, he had Thomas pull all the communication logs for the last two months. He presented his findings to Elizabeth.
“Did you know how little sleep he was actually getting before the Wraith attack, Elizabeth? Hell, even now when things are calm, he seldom gets more than four hours a night. They are constantly interrupting his sleep for the stupidest shit.”
Dr. Zelenka had entered the room breathless, catching the tail end of the conversation. After several breaths, he held up a finger to speak. Dr. Weir looked at him for confirmation, “Is this true?”
Radek nodded, gasping between breathes “I have tried to change old habits, but with so many things going on, Rodney is the only one that truly understands it all.” Distracted, Zelenka scanned the sheets the Colonel had brought along. Removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes with a sigh, “I did not realize it was this bad. He was always saying he was tired, but we all were. I thought he was just being Rodney.” He looked at all of them and added tentatively, his voice grave, “There is something else. I have been working on the surveillance system recently and I discovered that everything but private living quarters have monitoring systems. Rodney had nothing to do with the transporter malfunction.”
Carson, Elizabeth and John all responded in unison, shocked, “What!?”
Radek replaced his glasses and set up his laptop as he explained anxiously. “I was curious, so I searched for video of that night. Rodney fixed the system just as he said and left. Someone came after he left and messed with it.”
Elizabeth was red faced and livid, “Who?”
“Dr. Kavanagh. From what I can gather from video, he altered Rodney’s work right after he left. He let Rodney take the blame.”
Staring in shock, it was Elizabeth who spoke first, “Why?”
Shrugging, Radek pushed up his glasses, “He was angry when we would not listen to his suggestions. I think he changed the transporter configuration after Rodney fixed it to prove he was right and we were wrong. When he heard explosions, he rushed back to fix changes so that he would not be blamed.”
John was out of his seat and headed towards the door, “I’m gonna kill that bastard.”
Elizabeth called after him, her voice ringing with authority, “COLONEL! Now is not the time. I assure you we will deal with Dr. Kavanagh.”
“We can’t just sit here, we have to find Rodney and tell him,” shouted Sheppard, his guilt suddenly eating away at him. Weir and Beckett wore the same stricken expressions.
Elizabeth tried to bring order to the room, “Alright, when was the last time anyone saw him.” She turned to the doctor, “Carson?”
Shaking his head, Carson said sadly, “I’ve not seen him since I x-rayed his arm. He is due to have his cast removed in a few days.”
“John?”
He also shook his head, shame filling his eyes, “I saw him a few days ago, but not since then.”
“Dr. Zelenka?”
“He’s been down on the East pier for the last week.”
“I thought that was being taken care of. According to Dr. Kavanagh he was on top of it.”
Radek snorted, “He is the problem. Rodney has fixed it numerous times but Kavanagh refuses to accept that someone knows more than he does and keeps messing with the water filtration system.”
They all sat, contemplating their own guilt before Elizabeth asked, “Dr. Zelenka, how much of Atlantis’s present state is Dr. McKay responsible for?”
Radek looked at each of them and said solemnly, “All of it. He feels responsible for every mistake and rather than correct his colleagues, he fixes it himself. I am very afraid for him. He does not sleep and has lost a lot of weight. I take him food and remind him to eat or he goes until he drops.”
Carson found his voice, “We need to find him. The lack of sleep is bad enough, but that in combination with starving himself will eventually kill him. I’m sure he knows that.”
John couldn’t take anymore, “I’m outta here.” He rushed from the room, grabbing Radek on his way out. “Set up whatever you need to find him. I’m gearing up.”
Twenty minutes later, Rodney found them instead when his panicked voice came over their radios. “The hangar bay on the East pier is flooding. I need to find a way to drain it or the entire East wing is going to sink into the ocean.” His words were punctuated by gasps for air as he shouted over the sound of water.
Zelenka pulled up the video for that section, scanning quickly through the different feeds looking for the hangar bay. “Where are you, Rodney?”
Static was breaking up the transmission and Rodney’s reply was spotty. “Section 36…corridor…Kavanagh…screwing…nd…Stop…from…I’m going to…what I…”
Sheppard, his eyes darting from screen to screen hoping to catch a glimpse of the scientist, keyed his radio. “Rodney, you’re breaking up. Say again.”
There was no answer until Kavanagh came on the radio. “Damn fool’s gone into the hangar. The city has locked it down.”
Worried at the implications of that, John looked at Zelenka for an explanation, “It is safety protocol. If water in a room reaches a certain level, the city will automatically seal the bulkhead doors in that section so that it can’t cause any further damage.” He was still flipping through video feeds as he continued, “If Rodney cannot find a way to drain the room that whole section will fill with water and he will drown.”
Gripping Zelenka’s shoulder, Sheppard leaned closer to the screens, his voice desperate, “Can you get a picture?”
Punching several buttons, Radek found a view of the flooding hangar bay. Scanning it quickly, he found Rodney and both men gasped at the sight. Rodney was chest deep in water and gasping for air as he took a deep breath and disappeared under the water.
Sheppard questioned Radek anxiously, “Is there any other way in there?”
“Only from the outside, but that is assuming the city hasn’t shut off that entrance as well.” They’d discovered the submarine bays only a few weeks earlier when more troops arrived and began exploring the outer reaches of the city.
“Can’t he get into one of the subs in the hangar until we can get to him?”
Radek shook his head, “There are none in that particular bay. With all the flooding we’ve had, Rodney thought it best to move them out in case we lost that section.”
“Damn it. Alright, what will happen if I go in from the outside?”
“It will fill the bay faster, Colonel. The hangar is designed to flood when subs go in and out. The problem is that the draining mechanism is malfunctioning. We have had flooding there for some time but Rodney has managed to fix it. The problem is Dr. Kavanagh. He keeps returning to fiddle with it and whatever he is doing starts the whole process over. The water comes in and we have to manually adjust the machinery so that it will drain again. The problem is that it is underwater, making it difficult to get to. It is very heavy to operate and takes a lot of work just to turn it the necessary times so that the water drains. The water does not usually come in this fast.”
At that moment, they watched as Rodney surfaced, sputtering water and gasping for air as he treaded water that was now over his head. Sheppard paled and began issuing orders. “Is there anything you can do?”
Shaking his head, Radek said with dismay, “Anything that can be done, Rodney is doing.”
“Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I want you to stay here and keep me updated. I’m going to take a sub in from the outside.”
Radek raised his finger, “Colonel, the water is going to rush in very quickly once you open the bay door. It could make it difficult to find Rodney, not to mention hurting him in the process.”
Determination and desperation stared back at him, “Well I’m not gonna stand here and watch him drown.” He headed for the door and ran into Elizabeth, “Call Beckett, tell him to meet me in hangar bay 7 with his kit.”
She stopped him with a firm grasp, “What’s happening?”
“Rodney’s trapped in the hangar bay and it’s filling with water. I’m taking a sub in to see if I can get to him and then drain the bay before that whole section fills. I’m taking Beckett with me…” he added quietly, “just in case.”
“Alright, keep me posted, nodded Elizabeth.
John started to leave and turned back to Weir, “Talk to Bates, I want Kavanagh under lock and key.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement and he practically ran to the hangar bay. Beckett was sucking air when he arrived a few minutes later. “Ready?”
Carson nodded, his face strained, “Aye.”
They entered the sub, neither man saying anything but concern was mirrored on their faces, that and the overwhelming guilt they were feeling. Zelenka’s voice came over the radio. “Colonel, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“The water is getting deeper. Rodney is having trouble. I think you better hurry.”
“On our way. Is the outer door gonna open? We only have one shot at this.”
“I think so. I’ve checked the system and it appears to still be working.” There was a pause and then an added comment, “Good luck, Colonel.”
The hangar filled quickly and John went as fast as he dared out of the bay and through the exterior doors. Willing the sub to go faster, it a darted around the Northeast pier towards the East. Closing in on the outer door, he slowed the sub to a crawl and opened the door. The sub shifted in the water as the bay filled and John waited impatiently until it was full enough to enter and he eased the sub inside. Jumping from his seat, he spoke to Carson. “I’m going to gear up. Get me in there as close to the roof as this thing will go and keep your eyes open.”
Carson was shaking and nodding frantically, “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find Rodney then I’m going to get that drain working. After that I’m going to beat Kavanagh within an inch of his life.” He shoved a tank on his back and a regulator in his mouth, breathing deep to make sure it was working. Moving to the back of the sub, he opened the trap and sat on the lip, waiting impatiently for Carson. It was unsettling to be sitting in the water with only a small force field holding the water back. “Carson, anything?”
“I canna see.”
John thought lights and the area all around the sub suddenly lit up, bringing the submerged hangar bay into focus. Carson swung the sub around in all directions, amazed by the immediate reaction to his frantic thoughts. It seemed to sense his need and Carson spotted Rodney in the water, kicking desperately and clawing at the ceiling. “THERE! He’s right above us. Hurry, Colonel, he’s in trouble.”
Not waiting, John plunged into the water and swam for the surface, his eyes finding Rodney pressed against the ceiling, his motions becoming slower and slower. He kicked hard, fear of being too late keeping him going until he reached out and touched his friend. Rodney’s eyes widened briefly at his presence, and then fluttered shut as he went limp, his lungs empty of life sustaining air. Jerking the regulator from his own mouth, he forced it into Rodney’s, but there was no response. It was too late, Rodney’s lungs were already filled with water and only vacant eyes were staring back at him.
Grabbing the regulator, John put it back in his own mouth. Grasping for Rodney’s shirt, he pulled him behind him as he turned to swim towards the sub. Carson had moved up closer and thankfully it was only a short swim. Manhandling Rodney under the sub and up through the hole, hands reached down and took him into the sub. John hurried after. Clearing the water, he ripped the regulator from his mouth and sucked in a breath of real air, “He’s got water in his lungs. I was too late.”
Carson had his arms wrapped around Rodney’s chest to force the water out of his lungs. It seemed to work as water spilled from Rodney’s mouth but a quick check for a pulse showed no response. Lowering Rodney onto his back, Carson immediately began CPR. After only a few breaths, Rodney gasped and threw up more water. He tried to suck in more air, but his stomach and lungs forcibly expelled the sea water and he choked and gasped before he lay still. John watched anxiously as Carson checked that Rodney was breathing. When Carson expelled a loud breath, John did the same, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.
Still half in the water, John leaned forward and grabbed Rodney’s hand in his own. He looked up at Carson, “Is he gonna be okay?”
“I hope so. He’s gotten water in his lungs and that’s never good. We need to get him to the infirmary.”
“Can you do what you need to do here, while I fix this drain?”
“I can get an IV in him and such, but you need to hurry.” Carson was already pulling supplies from his pack as Sheppard went for his radio. Realizing he didn’t have it, he asked for Beckett’s.
Placing it on his ear, he spoke quickly, “Radek, we got him. Doc is working on him now. How do I fix this drain thing?”
He heard a loud sigh followed by a response, “You do not need to, Colonel. Rodney managed to get to it. The water level should already be dropping. You might want to get out of there while you still can.”
“Roger that. Have the med team standing by. We’ll be there as quick as we can.”
John pushed himself out of the water, and stopped briefly to drop a hand on Rodney’s chest, a reassurance that he was still breathing. He jumped into the pilot seat and turned the sub back around and headed for home.
******************
An hour later he had on dry clothes and was waiting impatiently for Carson to let him into the infirmary. Rodney had stopped breathing on the way there and they worked frantically to get him back. John stopped only long enough on his way to make sure Kavanagh was in custody. The man was ranting and raving his innocence until Zelenka piped the damaging video into his cell. Kavanagh stared at it, first in disbelief and then in horror, the color in his face draining away knowing he’d been caught. He cowered in the corner under the menacing glares of his guards. It was everything John could do to keep from seriously hurting the man. He was quite certain the scientist would be shipped back to Earth on the next transport. The trick would be keeping him alive long enough to do so.
Kavanagh had been on borrowed time for some time and the powers-that-be had only been waiting for a valid excuse to expel him from the expedition. He’d created his own excuse and would pay the price. John doubted Kavanagh even knew how much trouble he was actually in. He thought it might be nice to be a fly on the wall the day reality came crashing in on the arrogant, egotistical bastard.
When John was finally allowed to sit with Rodney he was appalled by his condition. His skin was pale and the normally heavy scientist was much thinner than he should have been. Looking at Carson he asked softly, his eyes never leaving Rodney, “How bad is he, Doc?”
“Bad enough. The drowning was one thing. I’m worried about complications. As you can see he’s not the picture of health. With the lack of sleep and all, his immune system has been seriously compromised. We’re pumping him full of antibiotics just to be on the safe side.”
John slumped into the bedside chair, burying his head in his hands before staring back at Rodney’s sleeping form. “How did we let it go this far? We really screwed up this time, Carson.”
“Aye, we did,” said Carson, his own sadness evident in his voice.
“And to say ‘I’m sorry.’ doesn’t quite cut it.”
Crossing his arms, Carson shook his head, “No it doesn’t.”
At a loss for words that might help the situation, John pointed to Rodney and asked shyly, “Can I …uh …stay with him for a bit?”
“Aye. I’ll turn the light down and maybe you can rest too. You look like hell.”
John smiled, “That’s calling the kettle black.”
Carson patted him on the shoulder as he left, “Get some sleep.”
As soon as Beckett was gone, John stood up next to Rodney, his hand drifting to his face. The stubble was almost long enough to make it feel soft but made him look more worn and tired. A cannula ran to his nose and John’s thumb traced the skin beneath the tubing, tracing a line to his lips.
Seeing Rodney die had made him see how much the man meant to him and he promised himself if he lived he wouldn’t hide behind the military any more. He’d tried for too long to deny what he felt for the scientist. In the days before the Wraith, he’d convinced himself it was just two friends finding some much needed relief from the daily stress. Now he knew it was all a lie. He only hoped that Rodney would find it in his heart to forgive him…forgive them all for the terrible injustice done to him.
Leaning over the infirmary bed, John lightly kissed Rodney’s lips, whispering as he pulled back slightly, “I’m sorry, Rodney. So sorry for everything. You were right, you know. You are a genius and this city can’t do without you. I can’t do without you. We found out the hard way how much you mean and how indispensable you really are. It wasn’t your fault… the accident. It was Kavanagh. I hope they hang him by the balls, because we not only lost good people, we almost lost you in the process.” John leaned closer, dropping his head on Rodney’s shoulder, muttering softly, “I love you, Rodney.”
A hand grasped his neck and John froze, until he heard Rodney’s raspy voice, “Get off me… I can’t breathe.”
John jerked away, staring down at Rodney with a grin, “You’re awake.”
“Nothing gets by you, Colonel.” Rodney closed his eyes, his voice slurring as sleep tried to reclaim him. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he stared at Sheppard and frowned, “Did you say you loved me?”
Sitting down, John took Rodney’s hand in his, careful of the IV. He answered shyly, dropping his head, “Yeah, I did. Is that a problem?”
Rodney freaked. “Oh my god. I’m dying aren’t I? This is a death bed confession and you are under some illusion that being nice will somehow keep you from rotting in hell.”
John rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying.”
“Then I’m already dead and this is my own brand of hell.” Rodney closed his eyes, still rambling. “This is so unfair. I finally find someone that can put up with me and I die…” His voice dropped off in mid sentence and he stared vacantly ahead as he muttered softly, “I died.”
Swallowing, John squeezed the hand he held and said in a mere whisper, “Yeah, but we got you back.”
Rodney looked at John. “You don’t think that’s a bad omen, do you?” His free hand waved nervously, “I mean, that’s twice now the drowning reference has come up in my demise and really, it’s not a great way to go. Not that any way is a good way to go, but drowning really sucks in a big way, if you know what I mean.” Staring at John, Rodney’s eyes dropped to where they held hands and he frowned, “And why are you holding my hand?”
“Manly comfort,” answered John, hoping the conversation didn’t get any more uncomfortable than it already was. He’d spilled his guts and Rodney hadn’t returned the favor. Still, he hadn’t pulled his hand away.
“Oh, right,” said Rodney tiredly, his eyes slipping closed. John thought he’d fallen back asleep when he said quietly, “I thought you hated me.”
Sighing heavily, John wasn’t sure what he could say that would make things better between them. He’d royally fucked up with Rodney and let his anger get the best of him. Four of his men were dead and he’d needed somebody to blame. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he said nervously, “Yeah, about that…”
Barely opening his eyes, Rodney’s brow furrowed. “About what?”
John scrunched his face as he began, “Seems Kavanagh went in after you fixed the transporter and added his own brand of magic. He let you take the blame.”
“What? That bastard,” shouted Rodney as he flailed to sit up.
With Rodney looking like he was ready to hop out of bed and settle the problem once and for all, John reached out and tried to push his shoulders back on the bed. “Calm down. He’s not going anywhere. You can ream him a new asshole at your leisure. The Daedalus isn’t due for another three weeks.”
“And don’t tell me to calm down.” Rodney struggled in John’s grasp, his breathing becoming loud as he ranted loudly, “Do you have any idea how much shit I went through because of his incompetence? I broke my arm and I was treated like…” All the hurt and anguish he’d suffered registered in Rodney’s expression and the fight left him as he slumped back on the bed. His face red and beaded with sweat, he closed his eyes and turned away. With a small shake of his head, he whispered, “I’m sleeping now. Go away.”
John’s hand closed in a tight fist at his own anger over the whole situation. Taking a deep breath, he let it out. Resting a hand on Rodney’s shoulder, he leaned over and spoke with a soft determination, “You’re not sleeping and I’m not going anywhere.” Removing his hand, John sat back down, leaning forward onto his knees. “Look, I’m sorry about the way I treated you. I was wrong. We were all wrong.”
Rodney huffed, “Well, that makes it all okay then. I just go back to the part where I thought I actually had friends and we all live happily ever after.”
“You have friends, Rodney,” insisted John, cringing inwardly at how lame it sounded and knew there had to be a scowl on Rodney’s face if he were to look. Scrubbing his hands through unruly hair, John tried again. “When we saw you in the hanger bay I think we all realized how much you meant to us.” John swallowed hard and looked up, saddened to see Rodney’s back still facing him. He added shyly, “How much you mean to me.”
Rolling over, Rodney looked at John, suddenly serious as he spoke in a low voice, “I saw your face just before I… well before I died and I realized I didn’t want to die. It didn’t matter if you weren’t speaking to me. As long as I was still alive there was hope that you might someday forgive me.” Rodney closed his eyes briefly then opened them, looking directly into John’s, “I’ve never been that alone before.”
John remained silent and Rodney seemed to falter. His rambling nervousness taking over and his hands moved of their own accord, “I’ve been alone before because obnoxious genius here, but this was different. I thought things were different here. I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with.” John couldn’t hide the smirk that threatened and Rodney sneered back, “Asshole.”
“Sorry,” shrugged John, not the least bit sorry. Rodney was fighting a smile as he said it and that could only end in John’s favor.
“Where was I?”
“Obnoxious, hard to get along with genius,” offered John, leaning back in his chair and beginning to relax.
“Right. Anyway, I realized in that moment that my life flashed before my eyes that I might, and if you repeat this you’ll never take another hot shower as long as you live, I might have reacted the same if people I cared about were killed in a pointless accident.”
“Does this mean you forgive me?” asked John hopefully, adding his best smile for affect.
Rodney answered with a snort, “Not anytime soon. I will need countless hours of ego stroking to make up for it and you owe me a huge, really, really huge apology and there should be lots of chocolate involved.” Chin held a bit higher, he added, “Of course Elizabeth and Carson are going to have to pay as well. As for the rest, I’m thinking several months of making their lives living hell might make up for their blatant incompetence lately.”
“Well, it wouldn’t do for them to see the kindler, gentler McKay,” teased John, the first genuine smile of the night gracing his features.
Rodney replied smugly, “And don’t think I’ll let you forget that you were groveling at my bedside in the middle of the night.”
”Didn’t think you would,” smirked John.
Rodney yawned widely and tried to fight the aching tiredness but was unsuccessful. As he drifted off, John felt him squeeze his hand. Gently squeezing it back, John leaned over and kissed him softly, “I’m glad you didn’t die.”
“Me too,” mumbled Rodney.
************
It wasn’t so easy for Rodney to return as they’d all hoped. Weeks of abuse to his body slowed his recovery and he bounced in and out of depression over the whole ordeal. Rodney faced doubts about his own worth, John's love, and the others' friendship but Elizabeth and Carson both had a long and heartfelt talk with their friend and things got better between them. Others occasionally stopped by to offer an apology or a get well and Rodney felt more at ease with his decision to forgive and forget.
The fact that John seldom left his side during Rodney’s stay in the infirmary went a long way in convincing him of John’s sincerity. That and the way John couldn’t keep his hands to himself. After interrupting them in rather awkward moments on more than one occasion, Carson finally assigned Rodney a private room and posted a sign outside, ‘knock first’.
Elizabeth had a serious talk with the science department and suggested that anyone unwilling to give one hundred percent should consider the next transport to Earth. A few took her up on the offer, most of them from Kavanagh’s camp. The remaining scientists were given strict guidelines about what constituted an emergency and informed if said problem didn’t fall within the guidelines it could wait until Rodney was available. No one had realized the amount of work the man really did until he was laid up for a month. Dr. Zelenka made her promise never to put him in charge again and then he slept for a week.
Working in the lab his first day back, Rodney found himself the center of attention as people dropped by to say hello and offer a welcome back. It was disturbing at first, but he realized it was well intentioned and by days end he was back to his snarky self, waving them off with a snappy comment as he tried to work. When John appeared at suppertime, he was almost relieved. Popping his head in the door, he grinned at Rodney, “Wanna go to supper? I hear they have chocolate pudding.”
Rodney smiled, “You think you can bribe me away from my work with chocolate?”
Leaning against the doorjamb, John shrugged, “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“Good point.” Rodney stood up and grabbed his jacket.
John was surprised to see the scientist give in so easily and it showed, “Wow. I can’t believe that worked.”
Rodney smirked at him, “I know Elizabeth sent you and Carson too. Let’s see if I can guess. Elizabeth wants you to keep me from working long hours and Carson wants to make sure I eat.”
“This is that brilliant thing, right?”
Pushing him out he door, Rodney followed, “I think you can quit with the ego stroking. I’ve forgiven you. Besides, you are so shallow about it.”
“Does this mean I don’t have to do the chocolate thing any more too?” teased Sheppard, walking shoulder to shoulder with Rodney.
Rodney nudged him, throwing him out of step, “Not in your lifetime, Colonel.”
John ran ahead a few paces and opened the door behind him as he reached into his pocket. Holding up a chocolate bar he flashed Rodney a sly grin, “In that case…” he backed into what was a supply room and added seductively, “Want some candy, little boy?”
Rodney raised a incredulous brow. ”Little?” Looking up and down the hall, Rodney rushed forward and pushed John further into the room. “I’ll show you little.”
Supper was going to have to wait.
Title: Deprivation
Author: Chaps1870
Rating: PG
Pairing: McShep
Spoilers: Season 2, Siege 3
As usual, feel free to blame my beta
misty4me for any mistakes. He was tired. So damn tired. But every time he tried to close his eyes to rest, someone was there to remind him that there was something else that needed his attention. First it was Teyla, reminding him the Wraith were still in the city. How could he possibly go to sleep after that guilt trip? That little problem cleared away and he was halted on his way to his quarters by Zelenka. The deep space sensors were back online and the Wraith were coming in for a second round. That seemed like days ago. Actually it was a day and a half ago and he’d managed about three hours of sleep in that time. His body was running on empty when Elizabeth finally declared the city safe during the staff meeting and suggested everyone get some rest.
She’d get no argument from him. As the meeting was breaking up, Zelenka appeared. “The transporters have suddenly stopped working.”
Rodney’s shoulders slumped in frustration and exhaustion. Seeing his reaction, Dr. Weir chimed in, “Can’t someone else fix them?”
“Dr. Kavanagh has volunteered but he did not do so well the last time,” Radek said, his face giving away his worry that it would be allowed again.
“Yes, I remember,” sighed Elizabeth. He’d messed them up so badly that it was a random guess where you’d end up if you dared take the chance and use them. “Rodney, is there someone else that can fix them?”
Sighing heavily, Rodney rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “No one I’d trust to do it right. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You don’t always have to be the one to fix everything, Rodney. It’s why you have people working for you,” John said, still sitting in his chair, fighting a yawn.
“It would take someone else five or six hours, Colonel. I can do it in one.”
“Sucks being the smartest man in the Galaxy,” countered Sheppard, a little frustrated at Rodney’s work ethic. He rose to his feet, moving closer to the door as he spoke, “Let somebody else to it Rodney. You’re barely on your feet as it is. The last thing we need is for you to screw up and somebody get hurt because you aren’t thinking clearly.”
Rodney shook his head, mirroring Zelenka’s concern, “No, if Kavanagh gets his hands on it there’s no telling what damage he’ll do. For some reason he seems to think he’s the resident expert on transporters.” He gave Radek a light push towards the door, “We’d better hurry before he makes it any worse than it already is.” He looked over his shoulder at John and noting his disappointment, shrugged an apology and hurried after the other scientist.
It took over an hour to fix the transporters. It ended up being at the main transporter control on level four and Kavanagh stood over their shoulders the entire time, insisting he could fix it and telling them they were going about it all wrong. As self-proclaimed expert, nothing they did appeased him and he kept insisting his way was the better way. Zelenka was ready to kill the man before they finished and when Rodney finally replaced the outer panel, he let out a heavy sigh. Still hunkered under the console McKay muttered to Radek, “Go to bed, I’ll run the diagnostics real quick and finish it up. Take numbnuts with you so I don’t have to listen to him.”
Zelenka yawned. “Are you sure?”
Rodney waved him away, “Yes, yes, just go.” He got to his feet, ignoring both men and wasn’t aware that Kavanagh had stayed behind, sulking in the corner watching his every move. Rodney rubbed his eyes, willing them to focus on the readouts. He dozed off once as the final check was done but jerked awake when his computer beeped at him. Seeing that everything was clear, he shut down his laptop and gathering it under his arm, left the room. The nearest transporter was at the end of the corridor and he stayed close to the wall, letting it guide him. He was afraid that any other way would have him staggering down the hall like a drunk.
Entering the lift, he pressed his destination, anxious to get to his room in hopes that John might still be waiting. The transporter shuddered and suddenly he was lifted off his feet and slammed to the floor as the inside erupted in a bright flash of light. There was little time to react and he barely got his hand out to brace his fall when he heard the ominous sound of bone breaking. Fire danced in his arm for only a fraction of a second before the pain sent him crashing into oblivion.
When he woke to the throbbing ache in his arm, he had no idea how long he’d been out. Pulling himself to his feet, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs away then carefully wrapped his sore arm to his chest before zipping his jacket up to hold it in place. Immobilizing it helped and he stepped forward ready to leave the transport, barely managing to keep from slamming face first into the doors when they refused to open. After several attempts and some fiddling with the inner panel they finally slid open. The hallway was empty and he wondered if anyone was even aware of the explosion. Reaching to his ear for his radio, he realized he’d left it in the lab. He thought of returning but was in no way tempted to enter the lift and see if they were still working. He opted to walk to the infirmary and call someone from there.
As he got closer, he heard voices getting louder and louder and was suddenly pushed aside as two corpsman rushed by with a gurney. He hurried behind them, eyes glazed over from the pain but ignoring it, as he worried that he hadn’t been the only one injured by the transport malfunction. Sleep was momentarily forgotten as his concern mounted. The hallway was littered with people and he could hear muted screams from within the infirmary. He rushed through the doors, stopping just inside, stunned by the sheer volume of people. Almost every cubicle was filled as doctors and nurses hovered over the injured. He barely had time to react, when he was pushed into the wall by a very irate Colonel Sheppard. “What the hell happened? We’ve got over 20 people hurt. Damn it, I told you to get some sleep, but you had to play superman and fix it yourself.”
Rodney paled, as much from his words as the sudden agony in his arm from being jarred. “I fixed it. I don’t know what happened.”
“Look around, Rodney. People are dead,” growled John. He didn’t say ‘because of you’ but Rodney could hear it just the same. “I lost three of my men and six more are injured. God knows how many others. Anybody that happened to be in a transporter at the time was hurt.” John glared at him then angrily released him, pushing him harder into the wall.
Stunned by John’s behavior and shocked by what he’d said, Rodney stared at him in disbelief, “I… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Just…” He paused, closing his eyes and clenching his fists before he let out a breath, “Just stay out of my sight, McKay.”
“I need to see Carson,” said Rodney, his voice barely whispered.
John didn’t seem to care as he growled at Rodney, “He’s busy taking care of the injured, so I suggest you get the hell out of here and let him do his job. I doubt very much if you’d get much sympathy from him either. He lost a few of his own. Go to bed, like you should have hours ago. I’m sure Elizabeth will find you when this is all over.”
Without another word, John stormed away, leaving Rodney standing with his back to the wall, shaking and sweating from it all. He stood for several minutes then holding his arm tightly to his chest, tried to get the attention of one of the medical personnel. After several disgusted looks or an I’m too busy, Rodney stumbled out of the infirmary. How he made it to his room he had no idea but suddenly he was standing at his door with no clue how he’d gotten there. His arm was throbbing unmercifully and he was no longer thinking clearly. Feeling disjointed from his body, he staggered into his room where he collapsed onto the bed, letting sleep take him from the nightmare.
The next time he woke was to the pounding on his door. Rolling over, he tried to sit up, but was jerked awake by the sudden pain in his arm as it tangled in the blankets, causing him to cry out. He grabbed it to his chest, rocking with the pain when the door slid open revealing Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard. The door slid shut behind them as they stepped into the room. He froze at their hardened expressions and made a bid for his innocence, “I didn’t do this. I fixed it.”
“I’m sorry, Rodney but the evidence says otherwise.” Rodney tried to speak up, but she waved him off, her impatience clear. John stood behind her, staring straight ahead with his military face on, ignoring Rodney completely. Dr. Weir continued, “Dr. Kavanagh and Dr. Zelenka both state that you were the last person to work on the system. You should know that we lost eight people and sixteen others are lying in the infirmary from various injuries, some serious. As of now, you are confined to quarters until such time that Dr. Beckett clears you. You will not be allowed to do any work until you’ve caught up on your sleep. Had I known that you were disobeying orders to get sleep, I would have confined you a lot sooner and perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. For that I take some of the blame. However, as Chief Science Officer it is your job to assign work to your colleagues, not take it all upon yourself.” Glancing at Colonel Sheppard, Elizabeth added reluctantly, “In light of that, Dr. Zelenka will be in charge in the interim.”
Rodney stared at her, barely registering what she was saying. People were dead because of him. He was so sure he’d fixed the transporter but Zelenka wouldn’t lie, even to cover his ass and seeds of doubt laid claim to his certainty. He had no response. Tired and hurting, the guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. Lifting his head, he looked at both of them and muttered softly, “I’m sorry.” Judging by their expressions, his apology was apparently enough to confirm his guilt.
“I’m sorry too, Rodney. Get some rest and we’ll talk more when Carson has cleared you,” said Elizabeth, her voice emotionless, but the anger and disappointment in her stiff posture were unmistakable.
One look at Sheppard and Rodney saw the same thing in his eyes. Whatever they’d shared in the days before the Wraith had appeared was gone now. John only stared at Rodney with a cold, hard look. Hurt by their lack of confidence and easy blame, Rodney didn’t wait for them to leave. He simply turned away and curled up on the bed, waiting until the door opened and closed before he let the tears that were building escape.
Much later, his arm throbbing unmercifully, he tried to contact Carson, but was told repeatedly the doctor was busy and he would have to wait. He even tried pleading with the guard stationed outside his door, but the man refused, stating quite clearly that it would be a cold day in hell before he helped the man that killed three of his friends. With the pain escalating and no other options, Rodney carefully removed his coat to tend to his own injured arm. The swelling made it difficult and he fought to stay conscious through most of it. Thankfully he was wearing a short sleeve shirt so he could see the damage without further aggravating it.
It appeared to be a clean break and hadn’t broken the surface of his arm, but it was protruding sharply against the skin and the sight alone made him nauseous. Glancing around the room he looked for something that might work as a splint. He found a couple of pencils, not ideal but workable and with an elastic wrap from the first aid kit in his bathroom he steeled himself to set the break. Lying on his stomach on the bed, he carefully wedged his hand in the headboard for leverage. Not wanting to dwell on how much it was going to hurt, he took a couple of deep breaths and shifted his weight to the end of the bed. His arm straightened and he screamed into his pillow, panting harshly and sweating profusely as the bone slipped back into place. It took several minutes before he found the strength to grab for the splints and wrap the broken limb. When it was finally done, he allowed himself to pass out.
Waking the next time, he found food on the table, but after only a few bites he pushed it away and returned to bed, letting sleep take away his pain and misery. The pattern repeated itself for several days. No one came to visit and the few times he was awake when food arrived the deliverer refused to speak to him. By the time Carson finally showed up, Rodney was past any desire for conversation.
As soon as Carson appeared, Rodney knew he’d lost yet another friend. Dr. Beckett stood at his bed, his tone very professional. “Have you been sleeping?”
Rodney pulled the blankets tighter around himself. “Yes. You can go away now.”
“I need to look at you. Make sure you’re alright.”
He snapped back, “Should have thought of that days ago, Doctor.”
“I’ve been busy. I sent a nurse to check up on you, but you were sleeping.”
“Thanks for your concern. I don’t need your help any more so just go.” Even after this long his arm still ached and was a painful reminder of how little anyone cared.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Rodney. I’m hopin’ that maybe you’ve learned something from all this. We need you here, but you can’t do it all despite bein’ a genius. People are dead, Rodney,” Carson’s voice caught, “People I called friends.”
Rodney sat up quickly, regretting it when his arm shifted. He winced at the sudden pain. “Get the hell out. I don’t need you or anybody else telling me I messed up. Don’t you think I know that? What do you think I’ve been doing for days on end? You don’t think I’ve replayed the whole thing over and over in my head. I still can’t figure out what happened or why, because as far as I know the transporter should have worked.” His voice broke and he dropped his head, “Just get out.”
Carson stared at him, surprised by the scientist’s admission. More alarming was the way he was holding his arm and the bandage that covered it. “What’s wrong with your arm?”
Lying back down, Rodney’s voice was mere whisper as he curled up on the bed, “Nothing, go away.”
Moving closer to the bed, his concern growing, Carson asked, his voice not as harsh as earlier, “Let me look at it.”
“It’s fine. I took care of it myself.”
“What did you do to it?”
“I broke it. It’s fine now. Just go away and leave me alone.”
Carson voiced his cynicism, “How do ya know it’s broken? You’re not a doctor.”
Rodney sat up again, glaring at Carson, his anger bursting, “How do I know it’s broke? Because I fucking set it myself.”
Aghast, Carson stared at him with wide eyes. “Why did you not get someone?”
“You think I didn’t try. I practically begged your staff.” He mocked them, “I’m sorry the good doctor is busy. I can’t leave here, Carson. I’m locked up, remember. If you think the guards are sympathetic then think again. I had to set my own arm because I couldn’t get any one on YOUR staff to listen to me. You think about that the next time you’re condemning me and my work habits.”
“I’m sorry,” muttered Carson, his eyes downcast.
Rodney sank back to the bed, exhausted and hurting. His voice was filled with despair as he uttered quietly, “Just leave me alone. I don’t need any of you. Tell Elizabeth I’m all rested up and she can schedule the public hanging.”
With no other choice, Carson backed out of the room, still stunned by Rodney’s words. Maybe they’d all been a little harsh, ignoring the scientist’s feelings in lieu of their own towards the death of friends and colleagues.
An hour later, Carson, Elizabeth and John were knocking on his door. Their faces were filled with guilt and they did their best to apologize. It fell flat. It was too little too late and there was still the distant blame behind their eyes that couldn’t be denied. He dismissed them after Elizabeth stated that he was no longer confined to quarters and was free to return to work, albeit under Dr. Zelenka’s supervision. They had no idea how to deal with the situation of punishing his actions when he was needed to keep Atlantis running. In the end, they wrote it up as the result of physical exhaustion and sleep deprivation. While the blame for the accident was clearly on his shoulders, problems with new systems coming online had baffled most of the scientists and they reluctantly admitted that Dr. McKay was needed back in service.
Carson and Elizabeth left first after a promise that Rodney would visit the infirmary and have his arm x-rayed and put in a proper cast. John stood by the door unsure how to say what he needed to say. “I’m sorry about your arm. I should have listened. I’ll be having a talk with my men.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the Colonel, Rodney scrubbed one hand through his hair, “If that’s it, you can go. I need a shower. Duty calls you know.”
“Rodney… I’ve… I’ve decided maybe it’s better if you no longer went on missions. I think it might be easier if you concentrate your work here on Atlantis instead of spreading yourself so thin.”
Rodney’s hurt at being dismissed so easily was quickly replaced with anger. “I didn’t cause the accident. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t anything I did.”
“God McKay, people are dead and you still can’t admit you made a mistake,” Sheppard glowered, his anger mounting. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm down. He wasn’t there to fight. “You were tired, shit happens. I’m not here to argue with you.”
“Then why are you here? If it’s to tell me that you don’t want anything to do with me. I got that part.” Rodney shook his head as he huffed, “It was nice while it lasted, Colonel but like you said, it was just two buddies fucking. I’m sure you’ll find a replacement in no time.”
McKay might as well have stabbed him with a knife, his words sharp enough to hurt. John lashed out, “You are a heartless bastard, McKay. Doesn’t anything get inside you?”
Rodney looked at him for the first time, and Sheppard was taken aback by his haggard features. He obviously hadn’t been taking care of himself. It surprised John how much it hurt to see Rodney looking so worn, even after hearing what he had to say. The despair was hidden behind his words. “I’ve been around long enough to know that it doesn’t pay to get close to anyone because eventually it just bites you in the ass.”
“You let me close,” John frowned.
“Yes, well that turned out well didn’t it? Look around, Colonel. I’ve been locked up for almost a week and this is the first time you’ve seen fit to even show your face. You’ll forgive me if I don’t find your sudden concern sincere.”
“Fine, McKay.” He turned to the door, hiding the hurt in his eyes. “See ya around.”
Hearing the door close, Rodney sat very still, his eyes vacant as his mind drifted over events that had gotten him where he was. It hurt to be accused of killing people and to be treated so callously by those he thought were his friends, but worse was how easily John had cast him aside. Before the Wraith attacked they had finally moved that one step beyond friendship to something more, finding time in their schedules for a few moments together. Whether it was for a quick release or just to talk, they sought each other out for the chance to be together. He tried to convince himself it was nothing more than a release from the tension they were all feeling, but it felt like more at the time. Or at least he’d thought so. Now he wasn’t so sure and it hurt to think that he’d been fooled by the Colonel. Obviously he’d fallen for the ‘I care for you’ crap again and like all the times before he was left with nothing.
He finally pushed himself off the bed and trudged to the bathroom. With some effort he managed to shower and shave, difficult with only one arm. Getting dressed, he reluctantly went to Beckett. The good doctor was civil, even tried to be sociable but Rodney ignored it all and let him do his work with comment. He left the infirmary without having spoken a word.
Arm casted and in a sling, Rodney made his way to the lab. Every person he passed along the way stepped aside, not bothering to hide their utter contempt for him. He walked faster, kept his head down to hide the redness in his face as he hurried towards the lab. It was bustling with activity when he arrived but an awkward silence descended as soon as the entered the room. Some faces glared openly, others ducked to keep from looking at him. Excuses followed and in minutes only Dr. Zelenka remained.
Rodney frowned at him, “Don’t you have somewhere to be too?”
Radek shook his head, “No. I am good where I am.”
Making his way to his desk, Rodney asked, “What do you want me to do?” Radek looked surprised. “You’re in charge aren’t you? Elizabeth informed me that you are to supervise me. I suppose that means baby-sit so I don’t kill anyone else.”
“I did not want this, but it was me or let Kavanagh take over. I did not think you would want that.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” said Rodney, his voice barely disguising his bitterness.
Radek looked over his laptop, “I know you did nothing wrong. When I went to repair the system, it was as you left it. There was nothing wrong with it. I did a test run and the system worked perfectly. I do not understand why the explosions happened.”
“Did you tell Elizabeth that?”
“I tried, but she insisted that you must have changed something after I left you.” Radek looked at him, his eyebrow cocked, “You didn’t work on it after I left, did you?”
“No. I ran the diagnostics then left. When I activated the transporter it blew. They all blew.”
“I thought perhaps you worked on it again. I remembered you replacing the panel before I left but it was off when I returned to check the damage.”
Rodney shook his head, “It wasn’t me. I went straight to the infirmary. Maybe the blast tore it off.”
“Maybe.” Pushing up his glasses, Radek shrugged, “I could use your help Rodney. Everyone is trying to bring new systems online with the new ZPM and none of them are working as they should be. I am trying to keep up but I do not understand the interfacing as well as you and I am tired of grumpy scientists demanding I fix what they have destroyed.”
Sighing, Rodney shook his head in frustration. “So much for sleeping. What have you got up so far?”
Radek stood, bringing his PDA with him as he approached Rodney’s desk. “This is list of what has been done in your absence. I trust you to find what is priority. I will let you decide what you wish to do with your time. You did not need me to tell you what to do before, so I doubt you will need it now.” He looked Rodney in the eye as he added, “Do what you need to do, I will not interfere.”
Rodney glanced at the PDA, scanning it for information on what had been done to date. “I’ll go check out the recycling first.” It was no coincidence that he chose to work in the deepest part of Atlantis.
He rose but Radek stopped him with a word of caution, “I think you should know that Kavanagh has turned many to his cause. You won’t find too many on your side, Rodney.”
Snorting, Rodney feigned a smile, “What’s new? I can work alone if I have to. As for Kavanagh, I learned to dismiss his mouth and his superego months ago.” Grabbing some of his equipment, Rodney prepared to leave. At the door he turned back to Zelenka, “Um…thanks for…” He paused, “Well…just thanks.”
Radek nodded at him then waved him off. “Go, before they destroy Atlantis and it cannot be fixed. I am too busy to watch you every second of day.”
******
Rodney’s days were busy. He worked as much as was physically possible, checking and double checking his work to make sure no mistakes were made. When dizziness forced him to stop, he ate something he’d grabbed from the mess hall, usually only enough to keep him going. Food no longer had the same draw it used to and it was merely a way to keep from passing out now. Sometimes he could be found sitting at a lonely table in the corner of the mess hall but more often than not he just ate a powerbar or MRE in his room.
No one wanted to be seen with him and unless Zelenka was around he ate alone. In fact he did everything alone these days. He wandered the corridors of Atlantis going from one system to the next, fixing what needed to be fixed without pause. No one talked to him unless it was to impart information and even that was usually tinged with hostility. At the end of the day he’d crash on his bed but seldom got a full night’s sleep. With scientists working around the clock, his input was required at any given time and he would be pulled from sleep to insure that whatever system had malfunctioned was again working properly. It was an endless cycle but it kept him busy and even more important it kept him from thinking about how pathetic his existence was.
He no longer attended staff meetings and any information necessary for said meetings was imparted through Zelenka. He did his job and nothing more. No one made attempt to associate or even acknowledge him and he drew into himself, ignoring their contemptuous looks. Kavanagh spent his time gloating about Rodney’s incompetence to anyone that would listen. He lived to ridicule McKay, pointing out that he no longer had to listen to the scientist because he wasn’t in charge.
Rodney ignored it all. When someone wasn’t performing up to his expectations, he simply fixed it himself. It ate up time and caused less conflict. As the days turned to weeks, he became invisible, showing up when something needed to be done and then disappearing.
Zelenka was growing more and more concerned as Rodney became more and more withdrawn. No one but himself seemed to notice that the once overweight scientist was becoming painfully thin and haggard. He’d found him more than once sitting alone in some stairwell half asleep, shaking from hunger. He plied him with food and it was eaten half heartedly. Rodney would thank him and walk away to find something to occupy his time. Atlantis had never run as smoothly. The scientists rode on McKay’s coattails, bragging about their own worth and expertise. None of the powers that be were any wiser. They all assumed that the scientists were finally finding their own now that Dr. McKay wasn’t riding their backs all the time.
As with most things, one thing led to another until finally the truth of things began to seep through the cracks and everything came to a head at one of the weekly meetings. Colonel Sheppard was the first to bring it to their attention. Contrary to what Rodney thought, the Colonel had been keeping track of him, his ears open to anything regarding the scientist. He was surprised by how often the McKay was pulled from sleep for the simplest task. Like a dog on a bone, he had Thomas pull all the communication logs for the last two months. He presented his findings to Elizabeth.
“Did you know how little sleep he was actually getting before the Wraith attack, Elizabeth? Hell, even now when things are calm, he seldom gets more than four hours a night. They are constantly interrupting his sleep for the stupidest shit.”
Dr. Zelenka had entered the room breathless, catching the tail end of the conversation. After several breaths, he held up a finger to speak. Dr. Weir looked at him for confirmation, “Is this true?”
Radek nodded, gasping between breathes “I have tried to change old habits, but with so many things going on, Rodney is the only one that truly understands it all.” Distracted, Zelenka scanned the sheets the Colonel had brought along. Removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes with a sigh, “I did not realize it was this bad. He was always saying he was tired, but we all were. I thought he was just being Rodney.” He looked at all of them and added tentatively, his voice grave, “There is something else. I have been working on the surveillance system recently and I discovered that everything but private living quarters have monitoring systems. Rodney had nothing to do with the transporter malfunction.”
Carson, Elizabeth and John all responded in unison, shocked, “What!?”
Radek replaced his glasses and set up his laptop as he explained anxiously. “I was curious, so I searched for video of that night. Rodney fixed the system just as he said and left. Someone came after he left and messed with it.”
Elizabeth was red faced and livid, “Who?”
“Dr. Kavanagh. From what I can gather from video, he altered Rodney’s work right after he left. He let Rodney take the blame.”
Staring in shock, it was Elizabeth who spoke first, “Why?”
Shrugging, Radek pushed up his glasses, “He was angry when we would not listen to his suggestions. I think he changed the transporter configuration after Rodney fixed it to prove he was right and we were wrong. When he heard explosions, he rushed back to fix changes so that he would not be blamed.”
John was out of his seat and headed towards the door, “I’m gonna kill that bastard.”
Elizabeth called after him, her voice ringing with authority, “COLONEL! Now is not the time. I assure you we will deal with Dr. Kavanagh.”
“We can’t just sit here, we have to find Rodney and tell him,” shouted Sheppard, his guilt suddenly eating away at him. Weir and Beckett wore the same stricken expressions.
Elizabeth tried to bring order to the room, “Alright, when was the last time anyone saw him.” She turned to the doctor, “Carson?”
Shaking his head, Carson said sadly, “I’ve not seen him since I x-rayed his arm. He is due to have his cast removed in a few days.”
“John?”
He also shook his head, shame filling his eyes, “I saw him a few days ago, but not since then.”
“Dr. Zelenka?”
“He’s been down on the East pier for the last week.”
“I thought that was being taken care of. According to Dr. Kavanagh he was on top of it.”
Radek snorted, “He is the problem. Rodney has fixed it numerous times but Kavanagh refuses to accept that someone knows more than he does and keeps messing with the water filtration system.”
They all sat, contemplating their own guilt before Elizabeth asked, “Dr. Zelenka, how much of Atlantis’s present state is Dr. McKay responsible for?”
Radek looked at each of them and said solemnly, “All of it. He feels responsible for every mistake and rather than correct his colleagues, he fixes it himself. I am very afraid for him. He does not sleep and has lost a lot of weight. I take him food and remind him to eat or he goes until he drops.”
Carson found his voice, “We need to find him. The lack of sleep is bad enough, but that in combination with starving himself will eventually kill him. I’m sure he knows that.”
John couldn’t take anymore, “I’m outta here.” He rushed from the room, grabbing Radek on his way out. “Set up whatever you need to find him. I’m gearing up.”
Twenty minutes later, Rodney found them instead when his panicked voice came over their radios. “The hangar bay on the East pier is flooding. I need to find a way to drain it or the entire East wing is going to sink into the ocean.” His words were punctuated by gasps for air as he shouted over the sound of water.
Zelenka pulled up the video for that section, scanning quickly through the different feeds looking for the hangar bay. “Where are you, Rodney?”
Static was breaking up the transmission and Rodney’s reply was spotty. “Section 36…corridor…Kavanagh…screwing…nd…Stop…from…I’m going to…what I…”
Sheppard, his eyes darting from screen to screen hoping to catch a glimpse of the scientist, keyed his radio. “Rodney, you’re breaking up. Say again.”
There was no answer until Kavanagh came on the radio. “Damn fool’s gone into the hangar. The city has locked it down.”
Worried at the implications of that, John looked at Zelenka for an explanation, “It is safety protocol. If water in a room reaches a certain level, the city will automatically seal the bulkhead doors in that section so that it can’t cause any further damage.” He was still flipping through video feeds as he continued, “If Rodney cannot find a way to drain the room that whole section will fill with water and he will drown.”
Gripping Zelenka’s shoulder, Sheppard leaned closer to the screens, his voice desperate, “Can you get a picture?”
Punching several buttons, Radek found a view of the flooding hangar bay. Scanning it quickly, he found Rodney and both men gasped at the sight. Rodney was chest deep in water and gasping for air as he took a deep breath and disappeared under the water.
Sheppard questioned Radek anxiously, “Is there any other way in there?”
“Only from the outside, but that is assuming the city hasn’t shut off that entrance as well.” They’d discovered the submarine bays only a few weeks earlier when more troops arrived and began exploring the outer reaches of the city.
“Can’t he get into one of the subs in the hangar until we can get to him?”
Radek shook his head, “There are none in that particular bay. With all the flooding we’ve had, Rodney thought it best to move them out in case we lost that section.”
“Damn it. Alright, what will happen if I go in from the outside?”
“It will fill the bay faster, Colonel. The hangar is designed to flood when subs go in and out. The problem is that the draining mechanism is malfunctioning. We have had flooding there for some time but Rodney has managed to fix it. The problem is Dr. Kavanagh. He keeps returning to fiddle with it and whatever he is doing starts the whole process over. The water comes in and we have to manually adjust the machinery so that it will drain again. The problem is that it is underwater, making it difficult to get to. It is very heavy to operate and takes a lot of work just to turn it the necessary times so that the water drains. The water does not usually come in this fast.”
At that moment, they watched as Rodney surfaced, sputtering water and gasping for air as he treaded water that was now over his head. Sheppard paled and began issuing orders. “Is there anything you can do?”
Shaking his head, Radek said with dismay, “Anything that can be done, Rodney is doing.”
“Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I want you to stay here and keep me updated. I’m going to take a sub in from the outside.”
Radek raised his finger, “Colonel, the water is going to rush in very quickly once you open the bay door. It could make it difficult to find Rodney, not to mention hurting him in the process.”
Determination and desperation stared back at him, “Well I’m not gonna stand here and watch him drown.” He headed for the door and ran into Elizabeth, “Call Beckett, tell him to meet me in hangar bay 7 with his kit.”
She stopped him with a firm grasp, “What’s happening?”
“Rodney’s trapped in the hangar bay and it’s filling with water. I’m taking a sub in to see if I can get to him and then drain the bay before that whole section fills. I’m taking Beckett with me…” he added quietly, “just in case.”
“Alright, keep me posted, nodded Elizabeth.
John started to leave and turned back to Weir, “Talk to Bates, I want Kavanagh under lock and key.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement and he practically ran to the hangar bay. Beckett was sucking air when he arrived a few minutes later. “Ready?”
Carson nodded, his face strained, “Aye.”
They entered the sub, neither man saying anything but concern was mirrored on their faces, that and the overwhelming guilt they were feeling. Zelenka’s voice came over the radio. “Colonel, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“The water is getting deeper. Rodney is having trouble. I think you better hurry.”
“On our way. Is the outer door gonna open? We only have one shot at this.”
“I think so. I’ve checked the system and it appears to still be working.” There was a pause and then an added comment, “Good luck, Colonel.”
The hangar filled quickly and John went as fast as he dared out of the bay and through the exterior doors. Willing the sub to go faster, it a darted around the Northeast pier towards the East. Closing in on the outer door, he slowed the sub to a crawl and opened the door. The sub shifted in the water as the bay filled and John waited impatiently until it was full enough to enter and he eased the sub inside. Jumping from his seat, he spoke to Carson. “I’m going to gear up. Get me in there as close to the roof as this thing will go and keep your eyes open.”
Carson was shaking and nodding frantically, “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find Rodney then I’m going to get that drain working. After that I’m going to beat Kavanagh within an inch of his life.” He shoved a tank on his back and a regulator in his mouth, breathing deep to make sure it was working. Moving to the back of the sub, he opened the trap and sat on the lip, waiting impatiently for Carson. It was unsettling to be sitting in the water with only a small force field holding the water back. “Carson, anything?”
“I canna see.”
John thought lights and the area all around the sub suddenly lit up, bringing the submerged hangar bay into focus. Carson swung the sub around in all directions, amazed by the immediate reaction to his frantic thoughts. It seemed to sense his need and Carson spotted Rodney in the water, kicking desperately and clawing at the ceiling. “THERE! He’s right above us. Hurry, Colonel, he’s in trouble.”
Not waiting, John plunged into the water and swam for the surface, his eyes finding Rodney pressed against the ceiling, his motions becoming slower and slower. He kicked hard, fear of being too late keeping him going until he reached out and touched his friend. Rodney’s eyes widened briefly at his presence, and then fluttered shut as he went limp, his lungs empty of life sustaining air. Jerking the regulator from his own mouth, he forced it into Rodney’s, but there was no response. It was too late, Rodney’s lungs were already filled with water and only vacant eyes were staring back at him.
Grabbing the regulator, John put it back in his own mouth. Grasping for Rodney’s shirt, he pulled him behind him as he turned to swim towards the sub. Carson had moved up closer and thankfully it was only a short swim. Manhandling Rodney under the sub and up through the hole, hands reached down and took him into the sub. John hurried after. Clearing the water, he ripped the regulator from his mouth and sucked in a breath of real air, “He’s got water in his lungs. I was too late.”
Carson had his arms wrapped around Rodney’s chest to force the water out of his lungs. It seemed to work as water spilled from Rodney’s mouth but a quick check for a pulse showed no response. Lowering Rodney onto his back, Carson immediately began CPR. After only a few breaths, Rodney gasped and threw up more water. He tried to suck in more air, but his stomach and lungs forcibly expelled the sea water and he choked and gasped before he lay still. John watched anxiously as Carson checked that Rodney was breathing. When Carson expelled a loud breath, John did the same, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.
Still half in the water, John leaned forward and grabbed Rodney’s hand in his own. He looked up at Carson, “Is he gonna be okay?”
“I hope so. He’s gotten water in his lungs and that’s never good. We need to get him to the infirmary.”
“Can you do what you need to do here, while I fix this drain?”
“I can get an IV in him and such, but you need to hurry.” Carson was already pulling supplies from his pack as Sheppard went for his radio. Realizing he didn’t have it, he asked for Beckett’s.
Placing it on his ear, he spoke quickly, “Radek, we got him. Doc is working on him now. How do I fix this drain thing?”
He heard a loud sigh followed by a response, “You do not need to, Colonel. Rodney managed to get to it. The water level should already be dropping. You might want to get out of there while you still can.”
“Roger that. Have the med team standing by. We’ll be there as quick as we can.”
John pushed himself out of the water, and stopped briefly to drop a hand on Rodney’s chest, a reassurance that he was still breathing. He jumped into the pilot seat and turned the sub back around and headed for home.
******************
An hour later he had on dry clothes and was waiting impatiently for Carson to let him into the infirmary. Rodney had stopped breathing on the way there and they worked frantically to get him back. John stopped only long enough on his way to make sure Kavanagh was in custody. The man was ranting and raving his innocence until Zelenka piped the damaging video into his cell. Kavanagh stared at it, first in disbelief and then in horror, the color in his face draining away knowing he’d been caught. He cowered in the corner under the menacing glares of his guards. It was everything John could do to keep from seriously hurting the man. He was quite certain the scientist would be shipped back to Earth on the next transport. The trick would be keeping him alive long enough to do so.
Kavanagh had been on borrowed time for some time and the powers-that-be had only been waiting for a valid excuse to expel him from the expedition. He’d created his own excuse and would pay the price. John doubted Kavanagh even knew how much trouble he was actually in. He thought it might be nice to be a fly on the wall the day reality came crashing in on the arrogant, egotistical bastard.
When John was finally allowed to sit with Rodney he was appalled by his condition. His skin was pale and the normally heavy scientist was much thinner than he should have been. Looking at Carson he asked softly, his eyes never leaving Rodney, “How bad is he, Doc?”
“Bad enough. The drowning was one thing. I’m worried about complications. As you can see he’s not the picture of health. With the lack of sleep and all, his immune system has been seriously compromised. We’re pumping him full of antibiotics just to be on the safe side.”
John slumped into the bedside chair, burying his head in his hands before staring back at Rodney’s sleeping form. “How did we let it go this far? We really screwed up this time, Carson.”
“Aye, we did,” said Carson, his own sadness evident in his voice.
“And to say ‘I’m sorry.’ doesn’t quite cut it.”
Crossing his arms, Carson shook his head, “No it doesn’t.”
At a loss for words that might help the situation, John pointed to Rodney and asked shyly, “Can I …uh …stay with him for a bit?”
“Aye. I’ll turn the light down and maybe you can rest too. You look like hell.”
John smiled, “That’s calling the kettle black.”
Carson patted him on the shoulder as he left, “Get some sleep.”
As soon as Beckett was gone, John stood up next to Rodney, his hand drifting to his face. The stubble was almost long enough to make it feel soft but made him look more worn and tired. A cannula ran to his nose and John’s thumb traced the skin beneath the tubing, tracing a line to his lips.
Seeing Rodney die had made him see how much the man meant to him and he promised himself if he lived he wouldn’t hide behind the military any more. He’d tried for too long to deny what he felt for the scientist. In the days before the Wraith, he’d convinced himself it was just two friends finding some much needed relief from the daily stress. Now he knew it was all a lie. He only hoped that Rodney would find it in his heart to forgive him…forgive them all for the terrible injustice done to him.
Leaning over the infirmary bed, John lightly kissed Rodney’s lips, whispering as he pulled back slightly, “I’m sorry, Rodney. So sorry for everything. You were right, you know. You are a genius and this city can’t do without you. I can’t do without you. We found out the hard way how much you mean and how indispensable you really are. It wasn’t your fault… the accident. It was Kavanagh. I hope they hang him by the balls, because we not only lost good people, we almost lost you in the process.” John leaned closer, dropping his head on Rodney’s shoulder, muttering softly, “I love you, Rodney.”
A hand grasped his neck and John froze, until he heard Rodney’s raspy voice, “Get off me… I can’t breathe.”
John jerked away, staring down at Rodney with a grin, “You’re awake.”
“Nothing gets by you, Colonel.” Rodney closed his eyes, his voice slurring as sleep tried to reclaim him. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he stared at Sheppard and frowned, “Did you say you loved me?”
Sitting down, John took Rodney’s hand in his, careful of the IV. He answered shyly, dropping his head, “Yeah, I did. Is that a problem?”
Rodney freaked. “Oh my god. I’m dying aren’t I? This is a death bed confession and you are under some illusion that being nice will somehow keep you from rotting in hell.”
John rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying.”
“Then I’m already dead and this is my own brand of hell.” Rodney closed his eyes, still rambling. “This is so unfair. I finally find someone that can put up with me and I die…” His voice dropped off in mid sentence and he stared vacantly ahead as he muttered softly, “I died.”
Swallowing, John squeezed the hand he held and said in a mere whisper, “Yeah, but we got you back.”
Rodney looked at John. “You don’t think that’s a bad omen, do you?” His free hand waved nervously, “I mean, that’s twice now the drowning reference has come up in my demise and really, it’s not a great way to go. Not that any way is a good way to go, but drowning really sucks in a big way, if you know what I mean.” Staring at John, Rodney’s eyes dropped to where they held hands and he frowned, “And why are you holding my hand?”
“Manly comfort,” answered John, hoping the conversation didn’t get any more uncomfortable than it already was. He’d spilled his guts and Rodney hadn’t returned the favor. Still, he hadn’t pulled his hand away.
“Oh, right,” said Rodney tiredly, his eyes slipping closed. John thought he’d fallen back asleep when he said quietly, “I thought you hated me.”
Sighing heavily, John wasn’t sure what he could say that would make things better between them. He’d royally fucked up with Rodney and let his anger get the best of him. Four of his men were dead and he’d needed somebody to blame. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he said nervously, “Yeah, about that…”
Barely opening his eyes, Rodney’s brow furrowed. “About what?”
John scrunched his face as he began, “Seems Kavanagh went in after you fixed the transporter and added his own brand of magic. He let you take the blame.”
“What? That bastard,” shouted Rodney as he flailed to sit up.
With Rodney looking like he was ready to hop out of bed and settle the problem once and for all, John reached out and tried to push his shoulders back on the bed. “Calm down. He’s not going anywhere. You can ream him a new asshole at your leisure. The Daedalus isn’t due for another three weeks.”
“And don’t tell me to calm down.” Rodney struggled in John’s grasp, his breathing becoming loud as he ranted loudly, “Do you have any idea how much shit I went through because of his incompetence? I broke my arm and I was treated like…” All the hurt and anguish he’d suffered registered in Rodney’s expression and the fight left him as he slumped back on the bed. His face red and beaded with sweat, he closed his eyes and turned away. With a small shake of his head, he whispered, “I’m sleeping now. Go away.”
John’s hand closed in a tight fist at his own anger over the whole situation. Taking a deep breath, he let it out. Resting a hand on Rodney’s shoulder, he leaned over and spoke with a soft determination, “You’re not sleeping and I’m not going anywhere.” Removing his hand, John sat back down, leaning forward onto his knees. “Look, I’m sorry about the way I treated you. I was wrong. We were all wrong.”
Rodney huffed, “Well, that makes it all okay then. I just go back to the part where I thought I actually had friends and we all live happily ever after.”
“You have friends, Rodney,” insisted John, cringing inwardly at how lame it sounded and knew there had to be a scowl on Rodney’s face if he were to look. Scrubbing his hands through unruly hair, John tried again. “When we saw you in the hanger bay I think we all realized how much you meant to us.” John swallowed hard and looked up, saddened to see Rodney’s back still facing him. He added shyly, “How much you mean to me.”
Rolling over, Rodney looked at John, suddenly serious as he spoke in a low voice, “I saw your face just before I… well before I died and I realized I didn’t want to die. It didn’t matter if you weren’t speaking to me. As long as I was still alive there was hope that you might someday forgive me.” Rodney closed his eyes briefly then opened them, looking directly into John’s, “I’ve never been that alone before.”
John remained silent and Rodney seemed to falter. His rambling nervousness taking over and his hands moved of their own accord, “I’ve been alone before because obnoxious genius here, but this was different. I thought things were different here. I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with.” John couldn’t hide the smirk that threatened and Rodney sneered back, “Asshole.”
“Sorry,” shrugged John, not the least bit sorry. Rodney was fighting a smile as he said it and that could only end in John’s favor.
“Where was I?”
“Obnoxious, hard to get along with genius,” offered John, leaning back in his chair and beginning to relax.
“Right. Anyway, I realized in that moment that my life flashed before my eyes that I might, and if you repeat this you’ll never take another hot shower as long as you live, I might have reacted the same if people I cared about were killed in a pointless accident.”
“Does this mean you forgive me?” asked John hopefully, adding his best smile for affect.
Rodney answered with a snort, “Not anytime soon. I will need countless hours of ego stroking to make up for it and you owe me a huge, really, really huge apology and there should be lots of chocolate involved.” Chin held a bit higher, he added, “Of course Elizabeth and Carson are going to have to pay as well. As for the rest, I’m thinking several months of making their lives living hell might make up for their blatant incompetence lately.”
“Well, it wouldn’t do for them to see the kindler, gentler McKay,” teased John, the first genuine smile of the night gracing his features.
Rodney replied smugly, “And don’t think I’ll let you forget that you were groveling at my bedside in the middle of the night.”
”Didn’t think you would,” smirked John.
Rodney yawned widely and tried to fight the aching tiredness but was unsuccessful. As he drifted off, John felt him squeeze his hand. Gently squeezing it back, John leaned over and kissed him softly, “I’m glad you didn’t die.”
“Me too,” mumbled Rodney.
************
It wasn’t so easy for Rodney to return as they’d all hoped. Weeks of abuse to his body slowed his recovery and he bounced in and out of depression over the whole ordeal. Rodney faced doubts about his own worth, John's love, and the others' friendship but Elizabeth and Carson both had a long and heartfelt talk with their friend and things got better between them. Others occasionally stopped by to offer an apology or a get well and Rodney felt more at ease with his decision to forgive and forget.
The fact that John seldom left his side during Rodney’s stay in the infirmary went a long way in convincing him of John’s sincerity. That and the way John couldn’t keep his hands to himself. After interrupting them in rather awkward moments on more than one occasion, Carson finally assigned Rodney a private room and posted a sign outside, ‘knock first’.
Elizabeth had a serious talk with the science department and suggested that anyone unwilling to give one hundred percent should consider the next transport to Earth. A few took her up on the offer, most of them from Kavanagh’s camp. The remaining scientists were given strict guidelines about what constituted an emergency and informed if said problem didn’t fall within the guidelines it could wait until Rodney was available. No one had realized the amount of work the man really did until he was laid up for a month. Dr. Zelenka made her promise never to put him in charge again and then he slept for a week.
Working in the lab his first day back, Rodney found himself the center of attention as people dropped by to say hello and offer a welcome back. It was disturbing at first, but he realized it was well intentioned and by days end he was back to his snarky self, waving them off with a snappy comment as he tried to work. When John appeared at suppertime, he was almost relieved. Popping his head in the door, he grinned at Rodney, “Wanna go to supper? I hear they have chocolate pudding.”
Rodney smiled, “You think you can bribe me away from my work with chocolate?”
Leaning against the doorjamb, John shrugged, “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“Good point.” Rodney stood up and grabbed his jacket.
John was surprised to see the scientist give in so easily and it showed, “Wow. I can’t believe that worked.”
Rodney smirked at him, “I know Elizabeth sent you and Carson too. Let’s see if I can guess. Elizabeth wants you to keep me from working long hours and Carson wants to make sure I eat.”
“This is that brilliant thing, right?”
Pushing him out he door, Rodney followed, “I think you can quit with the ego stroking. I’ve forgiven you. Besides, you are so shallow about it.”
“Does this mean I don’t have to do the chocolate thing any more too?” teased Sheppard, walking shoulder to shoulder with Rodney.
Rodney nudged him, throwing him out of step, “Not in your lifetime, Colonel.”
John ran ahead a few paces and opened the door behind him as he reached into his pocket. Holding up a chocolate bar he flashed Rodney a sly grin, “In that case…” he backed into what was a supply room and added seductively, “Want some candy, little boy?”
Rodney raised a incredulous brow. ”Little?” Looking up and down the hall, Rodney rushed forward and pushed John further into the room. “I’ll show you little.”
Supper was going to have to wait.
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BTW - is there any chance for the next part of "Friends and lovers" in near future? (I know, I'm sorry, but I had to ask :D)
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