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Title: A Little Misunderstanding
Author: Chaps1870
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: R
Warnings: some language, a little rough sex, nothing graphic.
Summary: Rodney is falsely accused of raping Sheppard.
Disclaimer: Characters sadly belong to someone else and no infringement of rights is intended.
A/N In response to boilerbmw’s McShep challenge where one is raped, sort of, and the other is falsely accused.
Chapter 1
Dr. Beckett was reviewing Major Sheppard’s medical chart and subsequent lab results after their latest mission. The fact that the major was lying unconscious after a serious blow to the head, along with bruising on his arms and wrists, did nothing but at fuel to the fire. The man had all the signs of forced sexual penetration and all the evidence, including DNA, pointed to Doctor McKay. Considering the circumstances and McKay’s unwillingness to talk, he had no choice but to call Elizabeth. He sincerely hoped she could get Rodney to explain what happened during the mission that would account for what he was seeing. Despite his own personal opinion that Rodney wasn’t capable of such a thing, the results were pretty damaging.
Keying his radio, he called her up, “Dr. Weir.”
“Yes, Carson.”
“I need you in the infirmary.”
“On my way.”
Waiting for her, Carson drifted to Rodney’s bedside. McKay wasn’t without his own injuries and sported a very vivid black eye that was swollen to the point he couldn’t see out of it. He lay on his side staring blankly at the major as if he were lost in his own little world.
“Rodney?”
Blinking, Rodney glanced up at him, “What?”
Carson hesitated, “Um... I need ta ask you some questions.”
McKay’s eyes shifted back to Sheppard. “How is he?”
“He’s got a concussion. Right now he’s still unconscious. Can ya tell me what happened?”
“Major Sheppard and I were off exploring when he fell. I called for help and we got him back to the gate.”
Beckett tried to hide his skepticism, relying on his profession to guide him, rather than cast judgment, “That’s rather vague, lad. Can ya be more specific?”
Jerking upright, Rodney snapped at him, “No, I can’t! Read the report.”
Elizabeth entered at the moment and caught the glances the two men shot at each other. “Carson. Rodney.” Looking at Dr. Beckett she asked calmly, “What can I do for you?”
“I was tryin’ ta get Rodney to tell me what happened.”
Glaring at Carson, Rodney slid off the bed, “Can I go?”
Catching a barely discernable nod from Carson, Elizabeth interceded, “Not just yet, Rodney?”
Rubbing his stubbled face, Carson sighed, “I did an exam on Major Sheppard and well…I…aw bloody hell, I found signs of forced sexual penetration.” He looked at Rodney, “I found your DNA and that, along with the bruising on his wrists, leads me to believe it wasn’t consensual.”
Rodney’s eyes widened and he sat speechless, red creeping into his face. Elizabeth watched his discomfort, feeling her own face heat up. Shocked by the events she asked, “Is that true, Doctor McKay?”
Crossing his arms, a hard line formed on Rodney’s mouth and he remained silent. How could they possibly think he would do what they were suggesting. Yes, he and the Major had sex, but it wasn’t forced. He would never do that to John… never. It had gotten rough, but that wasn’t unusual either. They’d gotten caught up in the moment and one thing led to another. Very seldom did they indulge on a mission but the idyllic planet was too inviting and being separated from Teyla and Ford was too much temptation to resist. There was no way he could tell them what had happened without compromising the major’s command, so he kept silent. If this was going to come out, it would come from both of them.
It had been such a perfect afternoon until John had taken off through the bushes in a spontaneous game of tag and Rodney had run into the branch in his pursuit. John had come rushing back down the hill, only to slip and fall. Rodney had watched in horror as he lost his footing, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance. Losing his precarious hold on it, he’d fallen hard and his head had slammed into the ground on impact. It was terrifying to see him go limp and slide several more feet down the hill before coming to a rest.
Breathing harshly at the memory, Rodney clenched his eyes tightly, refusing to cry in front of Weir and Beckett. When he finally opened his eyes, they were staring sharply at him. Elizabeth was frowning when she asked, “I need you to tell me what happened.”
Rodney stepped closer, his anger showing, “This is crazy Elizabeth. I’d never hurt him.”
Carson reached out and stopped him with a hand to his chest. “How did you get the black eye?”
Pausing, Rodney said irritably, “I ran into a tree.” God, even to his ears it sounded lame. “Look, it was an accident. We were running and I ran into a branch. The major came back to see if he could help and he slipped down the hill. His head hit a rock and he was knocked unconscious.”
“That explains why he is unconscious, but that doesn’t explain the other,” said Elizabeth, clearly unconvinced by his explanation.
Leaning back onto the edge of the bed, Rodney said stubbornly, his chin jutting defiantly, “Look I’m not saying anything more until the Major wakes and I can speak to him.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m afraid you won’t be speaking to Major Sheppard until we’ve had a chance to talk to him first. I’m sorry, Rodney, but unless you are willing to explain why the Major has been raped, I have no choice but to have you locked up.”
“WHAT!?” Rodney looked at them in shock. He couldn’t believe they thought so little of him. “You can’t lock me up!”
Carson was holding onto him a little more firmly. He hated the stance he had to take but Rodney left him little choice, “She’s right, Rodney. I’ve done a complete blood workup and there is nothing to indicate an alien substance that might account for something unusual like this. The evidence is not in your favor and unless you have a better explanation, we canna have you running free. It could be an hour, a day or even more before the major wakes.”
Elizabeth looked at Rodney, “What’s it going to be?”
Rodney shrugged from Carson’s grasp, crossed his arms and remained silent. “Fine then,” sighed Elizabeth, a little angry and frustrated with his stubbornness at the moment. Turning to Doctor Beckett she tried to stay rational, “Can he be released?”
“Aye,” said Carson. He considered pleading with Rodney, but one look at him and he knew no more answers would be forthcoming.
Weir called Sergeant Bates on her radio, “I need a few of your men to come to the infirmary and escort Dr. McKay to a holding cell.”
There was a slight stutter followed by an affirmative reply. Carson handed Rodney his clothes. “You might as well get dressed while you wait.”
Rodney took the offered clothes, but one look at the blood stains and he paled. “I’ll keep these.”
The soldiers arrived and took McKay without a reason, only that he was to be held prisoner until further notice.
********
Rodney sat on the small cot that had been provided, his arms wrapped around his knees. It had been a day and still no word on John. The waiting was agonizing and his fear for his lover was mounting. The guards had been friendly enough most of the day, but those that brought his evening meal refused to even make eye contact. They practically threw his tray into the cell and Rodney pressed into the wall at his back, nervously.
They never said a word and left him alone to wonder why the sudden change. Oh, he could probably guess. Atlantis was a veritable grapevine where gossip was concerned. While Carson and Elizabeth would keep it confidential, others were not so likely to do the same. He was sure Bates would insist on some sort of formal charge and if not, the lab results would hang him. The fact that he wasn’t the most popular person in Atlantis probably made this a very juicy morsel for the majority of the population.
Burying his head in his knees he thought of John. Tears gathered but he wiped them quickly, not wanting others to see him vulnerable. He was so screwed, but he still couldn’t convince himself that telling the truth was the way out. When John woke, he’d clear him and they’d deal with it then. Rodney just couldn’t make the decision himself after all the trouble they’d gone through to hide it from the general public.
He wished more than anything that he could go back and change what had happened, do it differently. Still… up until John had gotten hurt it had been an incredible day. The planet had already been scouted and they were only there to gather some samples for the geologists. Elizabeth even stressed that the mission was an easy one and that perhaps they could do some exploring at their leisure. So he and John had gone one way and Ford and Teyla had gone another.
The day to themselves, he and John were hardly out of earshot when hands were groping for skin, passion mounting until they thought of nothing but release. Rodney had John’s wrists in a tight grip against a tree and even as he complained about the bark scraping his chest John was begging Rodney for more. In the state they were in, even lube took too much time and it had been a rough penetration. John only hissed for a second before he was pushing back, impaling himself hard and fast against Rodney’s desperate thrusting. It was over before they’d really even started with both of them breathing harshly in a heap on the forest floor. Rodney tried to apologize but the only response from John had been a blissful smile.
Now as he thought back on the day, he felt the twitch in his groin and rather than let his mind drift to the rest of that day and the other times they stopped to satisfy their urges he tried to focus on some of projects he had going. It was far easier than thinking about what would happen if John never woke. Stretching out on the bed, he threw his arm over his eyes, willing himself not to cry at the thought of being alone again. Coming to Atlantis was beyond any of his imaginings, the one assignment that any scientist would kill for. Being assigned to Major Sheppard’s team was icing on the cake and despite his struggles to fit in, he finally made a place for himself and he was content.
His friendship with Major Sheppard was unexpected, but they’d slid into it so easily that before either of them realized it they were spending free time together and thinking nothing of it. Over time they subconsciously began exploring the far reaches of the city as an excuse to be alone, neither of them aware of the reason behind their actions. As they became closer, the casual touches were no longer enough and they found reasons for their contact to linger. Leaning over a shoulder to see what the other was doing, sitting closer when they rested during their explorations, and little touches of comfort when either one needed it.
One thing led to another and before they realized it, they were past the point of no return. The first time was burned in Rodney’s brain. A slow and easy seduction that left them breathless for more of what they finally shared. They never spoke much of it, just took it for what it was. No one questioned the time they spent together, nor did they know what went on behind closed doors. It was time of learning for both of them, neither having really considered themselves gay but unable to deny what they were feeling. They played the soldier and the scientist in public and no one suspected a thing.
They’d made a silent commitment to one another and it was all threatening to fall apart because of one minor indiscretion. He had no way of knowing how John would react to the whole outing thing and sitting in a cell all alone with only his fears, Rodney’s tears rolled silently down his cheeks as he drifted to sleep.
*******
John tossed restlessly on the bed his head pounding unmercifully every time he tried to open his eyes even slightly. The light sent daggers straight through his eye sockets into his brain and he muttered incoherently to anyone that would listen. It was only making sense in his befuddled mind and those around him were anxiously trying to bring him closer to consciousness, unaware that their voices alone were aggravating his pain.
His mind wandered, wanting the darkness to take him back to that peaceful resting place, but the voices remained, asking questions he didn’t understand. “Who did this, Major? Who hurt you, Major? John, can you tell us what happened?”
It came to him slowly and he whispered the one name that rushed to the forefront of all his concerns, “Rodney…” He needed him, but the effort of speaking was enough to bring back the comfort of oblivious sleep.
Elizabeth, Carson and several nurses stood speechless, unable or unwilling to believe what they’d heard. Carson silently took Major Sheppard’s vitals. The nurses drifted away anxiously, shocked by the turn of events. Elizabeth sadly shook her head and left to return to her office. This was one time she’d have done anything not to be in charge.
Chapter 2
He was startled awake by the sound of the door opening and jerked upright. With one eye swollen and the other glazed from sleep, Rodney tried to focus on his surroundings. Making out the blurry images of two soldiers he stood up, hoping for some good news. Stepping forward, he started to ask, “How is he? Is he…”
His vision compromised, he never saw it coming. His dinner tray was suddenly coming at him, it’s contents scattering on impact. Closing his eyes, he instinctively raised his hands protect himself. It was the moment they were waiting for, knowing his reaction before he did. Unknowingly, he’d left himself open for attack and the next thing he knew he was on his knees, doubled over and gasping for air from the explosion of pain in his stomach. One hand rested on the ground and he tried to use it for leverage only to have it viciously kicked out from under him. Landing on the steel floor, his face hit hard, but it went unnoticed by his attackers. Curling around himself, he tried to shield his body from the worst of the blows, but they found their target anyway. Boots and fists pummeled him over and over.
He cried out, shamelessly, “Stop… please stop.” Every kick rocked his body, lifting his battered frame off the floor.
They continued undeterred and he begged between gasps. “You’re making… a… mistake.” He pleaded over and over, tears marring his face as the torturous kicks went on. “Please… stop!” His voice was a mere whisper, unheard by his attackers.
One of the men was circling and Rodney covered his head with his hands, self preservation taking over. His head and stomach were the most vulnerable and he tried to curl up tighter, giving his attackers less of a target. Hands deflected the blows to his head, but the sickening crunch and blinding pain in several of his fingers was making it harder to keep his hold. His arms, ribs and back took the brunt of the kicks and he wished that he’d pass out, anything to stop the agonizing pain. It seemed to go on forever until there didn’t seem a place on his body left untouched. Breathing was no longer an unconscious, involuntary response and his lungs struggled against sharp, stabbing pain to draw even the smallest breath.
Shouts became muffled as consciousness faded in and out, but the words were clear enough. Faggot. Homo. Queer. When they’d had enough and were assured he was no longer a threat they left him in heap, seemingly unconcerned whether he was even alive.
Afraid to move, he lay perfectly still, but unable to stop the trembling in his abused flesh. Tears came unbidden as he worked up the courage to move and a groan escaped as he tried to lift up enough to even crawl. Sweating heavily, his jaw clenched tight, there seemed no end to the hurt. Nausea threatened several times as the bile rose in his throat. Each time, he swallowed hard against it, unwilling to go through the unimaginable pain of throwing up. He lay for several minutes, unaware of the passage of time and again tried to rise. Very slowly he managed to get an arm under him, mindful of his twisted, throbbing fingers. His arm shaking as he lifted himself up, the room spun violently around him. Any attempt to fight back the sick feeling was lost and his stomach began convulsing. Even when there was nothing more, he continued to dry heave until the pain overtook him. Breathless and unable to draw a deep breath, he collapsed to the floor amidst the bile and remnants of his dinner tray, letting the darkness offer what relief it could.
********
John woke several times in the night, but never long and never with much lucidity. His head throbbed each time and only began to diminish with the approaching dawn. Still light headed, he cursed Carson for keeping him drugged, but thankful for the relief just the same. Lying on his back, his eyes closed, he listened to the sounds around him as the infirmary came back alive with the morning.
The ache in his head was a dull throb and he could open his eyes and not want to scream. Hearing Carson’s heavy accent, he pretended to be asleep, not ready to face the barrage of poking and prodding. He barely remembered the fall that put him here and everything after that was a mystery. Turning his head, he cautiously opened his eyes and felt a little disappointed not to see Rodney snoring in the chair beside his bed. He’d gotten so used to it whenever he was injured, it seemed unnatural not to wake and see him there. Maybe he’d done the smart thing and actually gotten some sleep in a real bed.
His throat was raspy and dry and seeing Carson’s lab coat cross his line of sight he asked hoarsely, “Water.”
“I was wonderin’ when you’d be wakin’, Major. I was beginnin’ ta worry.” Helping him sit up, Carson handed him the water. “Take it slow. Your stomach might be feelin’ a wee touchy after your head injury.”
Drinking the water, he leaned back on the bed, “How long?”
“They brought ya in two days ago. How are you feelin?”
“Sore. Hell of a headache,” he smiled weakly.
“Do ya remember what happened, then?”
“I fell down the hill. McKay ran into a branch or something and hurt his eye. I went back for him and I musta slipped.” He grinned, “I remember seeing the sky on my way down and that was all she wrote.”
“That’s all?” asked Carson, surprised by Major Sheppard’s good nature, considering the circumstances.
“It was a stupid move on my part. The hill was kinda wet, shoulda been more careful, but you know McKay when he’s hurt. The world is coming to an end as far as he’s concerned. How’s he doing, anyway? I half expected him to be here.”
Carson’s face fell and he’d tried to recover, but it wasn’t quick enough. Sheppard frowned. “What?” Alarm filled John’s voice as he asked worriedly, “Is he alright? What aren’t you telling me?”
Reaching out, Carson hesitated, “Calm down, Major.”
Not the response he was looking for, John became agitated, his voice getting louder. “Where’s Rodney?”
“Look Major, there were some unanswered questions when they brought ya in and Rodney refused to cooperate,” hedged Carson, not sure how to approach the situation.
“What questions? I fell down a damn hill. McKay coulda told you that!” exclaimed John.
“Major…” Carson reached out and grasped his arm lightly as he tried again, his voice softer as he spoke, “When I did your examination I found some rather disturbing results.”
John was trying not to freak by Carson’s sudden concern, “Like what?”
With a deep breath, Carson explained what he’d found, the tearing, the DNA, the bruising. He watched as John paled with each passing moment and by the time he got to the part where Rodney had been taken into custody, the major was ripping out his IV and trying to get out of bed.
Carson grabbed for him, fighting to keep him in bed. Sheppard fought back frantically, screaming every obscenity he could think of about how ignorant they were. He lashed out at Carson with all he had.
Getting too close to the desperate man, Carson took a right hook to his jaw. His eyes rolled back in his head and he never felt the floor come up to meet him. Several nurses rushed to his side and John made his escape, intent on finding Rodney. On wobbly legs, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat, John staggered from one wall the other, pinballing his way blindly through the corridors. If he had any chance of getting there before security dragged his ass back he had to outrun them or hope that the nurses gave him a head start before calling Bates.
Luck was on his side and he skidded to a halt just outside the holding area, still undetected. Looking down at himself, he realized that dressed in scrubs and soaked to the skin, he might have a hard time convincing his men he was here in an official capacity. With several deep breaths and a quick swipe of his face, he squared his shoulders and advanced on the two guards. They snapped at attention, shocked by his sudden appearance. The older one Jargonson, recovered first and smiled, “Morning, Major. Glad to see you’re up and about.”
Not up to small talk, he gave the order, “Open it.”
Pilster, the other man, frowned. “You sure you wanna do that, Sir.”
Patience wearing out, Sheppard shouted, “Open the damn door!”
Jargonson fumbled with his card and opened the lock, “There you go, Sir. He shouldn’t give you too much trouble.”
Sheppard stopped cold and grabbed the man by the shirt, slamming him hard in to the wall, “What the hell does that mean?”
Pilster, young and cocky, flashed a proud smile, “We took care of him, Sir.”
Still in his commanding officer’s grip, Jargonson was sweating as he hissed at Pilster “Shut up.”
Paling, John’s hands went limp and he dropped the man in his grasp. His voice was barely a whisper as he turned into the cell and was assaulted by the smell, “Oh god, Rodney.”
He couldn’t move, his eyes glued to his lover as he lay in the middle of the floor in his own mess. The two guards stood at his back and he hollered frantically as he darted to Rodney’s side, kneeling in the muck without a second thought, “CALL MEDICAL! NOW!” Stunned by his actions, the two men just stared.
Very gently, he picked up Rodney’s head and shifting, held it in his lap as his hands stroked the damp strands of hair. He was cold and clammy to the touch and even above his own heavy breathing he could hear the wheezing with the shallow rise and fall of Rodney’s chest. Looking up with tears in his eyes he shouted at the two guards, “DAMN IT! CALL FOR HELP!” Startled, they scrambled from the room, calling the infirmary for assistance.
John was shaking as he held Rodney, mumbling as he caressed the uninjured side of his face. “Come on Rodney, wake up for me. Come on baby, don’t you do this to me.” There was fear in his voice and he gently shook Rodney, trying to stir him awake.
After countless pleas, Rodney came awake with a start and cried out, his eye wide with fear when he realized where he was. Adrenalin replaced the pain long enough for him to scramble away to the far wall where he slumped against it, holding his hands carefully away from his body.
His eyes darted around the room, trying to focus and settling on his lover, he whispered, “John?” Tilting his head to look out his good eye, Rodney warily watched the guards at the door. He glanced at them nervously, his breathing increasing as his fear escalated.
“They won’t hurt you any more. It’s over. I promise,” hushed John, worried by Rodney’s physical and mental state. He was holding his bruised arms close to his body, his hands trembling from the pain in them. The purple blotches covering Rodney pulled at his heart and he needed to know how badly he was hurt. Moving closer, he reached out and tried to settle around Rodney only to be pushed away.
“Not here. Please,” begged Rodney, his eyes adding to his desperate plea and John backed off understandingly. He knew Rodney was afraid of breaking down after all he been through and he certainly didn’t want to make it a public event.
His eye started to glaze over and suddenly he tilted dangerously to the left. Bumping his hand on the way over, he whimpered and shut his eye, sinking further to lie on the floor. The adrenalin was wearing off and his breathing became shallow to compensate for the added pain. John felt helpless as he waited and gently ran his fingers through Rodney’s hair as he uttered soft reassurances. By the time Carson and his crew arrived, Rodney was either sleeping or unconscious and John was a nervous wreck, ready to lash out.
Carson knelt beside Rodney and did a quick check, asking questions as he worked, “Was he conscious, Major?”
“Yeah, just before you got here.”
“How did he seem?”
“What the hell do you mean, how did he seem? He’s had the shit beat out of him, Carson. He was in a lot of pain.” As they moved Rodney onto the stretcher, John grabbed the orderly and snapped at him, “Careful, I think his fingers are broken.”
Carson gently pulled him away, “Let them do their job, Major. The sooner we get him back to the infirmary the sooner we can see what the damage is.” His own guilt weighed heavily on the doctor but now was not the time and he hid it behind the mask of his profession.
John sat back on his haunches and pinched the bridge of his nose, his head rebelling against the excursion and strain. Carson reached for him, “I think you’d best be coming too.”
Jerking from his touch, Sheppard growled at him with a cold fury in his eyes, “Not yet. I have something to do first.”
A small crowd was gathering outside the room and jumping to his feet, John stormed out. They cleared a path until the only two men still in his line of sight were Jargonson and Pilster. Before anyone could react, he was on Pilster and was hitting him wildly, taking his anger out on the young soldier. Stackhouse and Bates arrived in time to see him start in on Jargonson and it took both of them to pull him off the struggling man. Even then he fought to get back to them until Ford and Teyla showed up. Both stepped in front of him and began talking until he calmed down enough to be released.
The two injured soldiers lay crouched on the floor, looking fearful as he stood above them, tight fisted and shaking with barely controlled rage. Turning on Bates he, ordered through clenched teeth, “Get them out of my sight.” He paused, adding as he pointed inside Rodney’s cell, “Make ‘em clean that out first, with fucking toothbrushes.”
Bates answered with a wry grin, “Yes, Sir.” He and Stackhouse dragged the two men away without a second thought and John stared after them. They hadn’t even batted an eye and he wondered if they knew the truth. Judging by the growing crowd it was hard to imagine their was a soul that didn’t know about him and Rodney. If there was any doubt, it was quickly put it to rest when he stepped beside Rodney’s gurney and dropped a light kiss on his forehead before Carson rushed him to the infirmary.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth entered, looking around for Doctor Beckett before she checked on his patients. Finding him coming out of his tiny office, he spotted her and waved her over. “Mornin’.”
Nodding towards Rodney’s bed, she asked in a hushed tone, “How is he?”
Carson shook his head, “They did a job on him. He has eight cracked ribs, six broken fingers, and bruising over a good part of his body. Thankfully he didna have any internal damage. He’s goin’ ta hurt somethin’ fierce when he wakes.”
Her eyes drifting to Rodney’s bedside. John sat beside him, his head resting on the bed, sound asleep. Rodney’s hands were heavily casted and each one rested on a mound of pillows to keep them elevated. Where his arms were uncovered, the mottled bruising showed vivid against his pale skin. It was almost inconceivable to her that someone could beat a man with such disregard. Sadly, she too had to shoulder some of the responsibility, along with the military that should have taken better care of Rodney. After his beating, no one had bothered to check on him for almost seven hours. To think about him lying alone for so long with only his pain to keep him company rankled her.
Pilster and Jargonson had mistakenly thought they were doing everyone a favor by taking matters into their own hands but they found out otherwise. Elizabeth had spent the morning speaking with Sergeant Bates trying to uncover what had happened. Bates wasn’t happy with his men. It was somewhat of a relief to her to discover that Pilster and Jargonson were among the minority. Most of the population was appalled by their actions. Their initial upset didn’t stem from Rodney and John’s sexual preference but rather the suspected rape. Oh, there were a few dissenters but after John’s attack on Pilster and Jargonson they wisely kept it to themselves.
As for Sheppard, she’d had to reprimand him for his actions and place a note in his file. He’d shrugged it off, in his eyes he’d acted as Rodney’s lover, not commanding officer of Atlantis. He did however promise to show more restraint in the future after she explained that he had a reputation to uphold and beating his men was not good for morale.
Elizabeth went on a witch hunt to find out who leaked the information that had originally been limited to herself and Carson. Finding the guilty lab tech, she reamed him for spreading confidential information and confined him to quarters for a month. A harsh reminder was given to every member of the expedition about spreading unmitigated rumors and she added a pointed line or two about tolerance.
Carson watched her from the corner of his eye, his own thoughts mirroring hers. They would both have some apologizing to do when Rodney finally woke, and they only hoped he’d understand they’d acted in the best interest of Atlantis, albeit misguided. Considering Sheppard’s popularity with his men, they should have foreseen the possibility for violence, but even with emotions running high it hadn’t occurred to them that their own people would act as vigilantes. Bates of course berated himself for not being more careful, but Elizabeth assured him that as leader it was her responsibility to anticipate such things, not his.
It didn’t negate their guilt for not listening to the voice of reason that denied Rodney’s possible involvement in the first place. Seeing his battered frame on the bed was a grim reminder that they’d handled the situation poorly from the start. Carson was thankful that Rodney was even still alive after the beating he taken and vowed that next time he’d listen to his heart a little more closely. He was almost certain Elizabeth would do the same.
Elizabeth smiled at the pair and leaned towards Carson, “I have to admit that the two of them together is not something I would have considered. I mean Rodney is so…”
“Stubborn, snappy and arrogant?” provided Carson with a smile.
“Exactly, and John is…”
“Stubborn, snappy…” Carson’s accent was thick with amusement.
They laughed quietly and Elizabeth replied, “I suppose it shouldn’t seem so strange when you put it like that.”
Carson chuckled as he nodded towards his sleeping patients, “They are kinda cute.”
“Cute? I think you might want to keep that particular thought to yourself.”
“Aye.”
Standing together in companionable silence they watched the unlikely pair sleep, knowing that they still had to face the unenviable task of apologizing to their friends.
*************
“Are you sure this was such a good idea?”
Rodney looked at him, sweat beading heavily on his skin as his plastered hand wrapped around his rib cage. He answered between breaths, “Well no, not at this particular moment.”
“You wanna go back?”
“NO! If I have to spend another minute with the nurses gawking at me I’m going to kill one of them. I’ve had plenty of time to plan slow and torturous deaths for each of them. God they’re insufferable. There must be some unwritten rule that a patient is not allowed more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep.” The effort of rambling left him breathless and he slumped into John, letting him support more of his weight as they slowly made their way down the hall.
“A wheelchair might have been a thought,” smirked John, noticing that Rodney was limping heavily on the leg that had been bruised the worst.
It had been two weeks since Rodney’s attack and he still bore the marks. Even Kavanaugh and his camp couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man. Rodney of course hated every minute of their dribbling pity and only this morning had he talked Carson into releasing him. The only condition… he had to make it to his room and once there he wasn’t allowed to leave until he was cleared by the good doctor.
Rodney would have signed away a ZPM to get away from everyone, so bed rest seemed a small price to pay for his freedom. Besides, he wasn’t all too sure he was going to make it too his room at which point it wouldn’t matter to Carson what the bargain was.
Letting John take more of his weight, Rodney bit back a groan, “Unless you want to carry my ass back to the infirmary I suggest we pick up the pace before Carson finds me sprawled out in the hallway.”
“Do you know you get bossy when you’re sick?”
“So shoot me,” retorted Rodney. The effect was lost a bit as he bit down on his lip to keep from moaning.
John tightened his hold, asking worriedly, “You gonna make it?”
Rodney gritted between his teeth, “If I have to crawl.”
Flashing him a smile, John teased, “Well that is certainly looking more like a possibility with each passing inch.”
“If you are working on your comedy routine, I wouldn’t quite your day job just yet.”
“Hmm, I wonder how funny it would be if I let go and let you fall on your ass.”
Rodney chirped, “Have I mentioned that you are hysterically funny?”
“That’s what I thought.”
They stopped suddenly, and Rodney looked up from his effort of putting one foot in front of the other. As the door slid open revealing his room, he stumbled inside and eased himself down on the bed. “Thank god.”
John smiled as he followed and began removing Rodney’s shoes, “I thought you were an atheist.”
“Well sometimes you have to go with what works. In this case it seemed appropriate.”
“You want a shower first?”
Holding up both heavily casted hands he smirked, “I doubt Carson would appreciate me if I showed up with soggy plaster dripping off my hands.”
John nudged his legs and pulled on Rodney’s pants, “Lift up.” Bracing himself on his elbows, Rodney lifted up and let John pull his pants off, then very carefully he removed his shirt from around the casts and helped him lie back down. Disappearing for a minute he returned with a wet rag and a towel. Without asking he wiped the sweat away and dried him off. “Better?”
Rodney nodded with a yawn, “Thanks.” Shifting on the bed, John settled next to him. Opening his eyes, Rodney caught him smiling. “What?”
“Well I was thinking that since we no longer have to hide, that you might want to move in with me?”
“Really? Knowing what a slob I am?”
Leaning closer, John kissed him, “I think I can live with a little chaos in my life.”
Reaching a hand behind John’s neck, Rodney pulled him down. “Very funny. Kiss me again.”
“Like I have choice, that cast weighs a ton.” He lowered himself to Rodney’s lips and gave in to his desires, missing this closeness while on display in the infirmary.
“I’m sorry you went through all that alone,” John said softly, trailing kisses up Rodney’s jawbone.
“I would never hurt you. When they thought I’d raped you, I thought…” Rodney paused. It had all been a misunderstanding, perpetuated by circumstances. As hard as Rodney tried to blame Elizabeth and Carson, he himself could have put it all to rest with a simple explanation. He hadn’t. When backed into the corner, he’d stubbornly remained silent. Of course, having the crap beat of him hadn’t entered the picture at the time. Still… he would have endured even that again if it meant keeping John’s trust.
“You should have just told them,” insisted John, still peeved at Rodney for being so stubborn when it came to revealing their relationship.
“Oh yeah, I can see that conversation. Yes, I fucked the major but he loved it… really. I’m sure they would have believed that. I thought at the time that it was better to wait and see what you wanted to do rather than out us. I shouldn’t have gotten so rough and none of this would have happened.”
“I was as much to blame as you.” His kisses continued, “I like it rough sometimes. No one would have ever known if I hadn’t fallen on my ass.”
Rodney said sarcastically, “Have I mentioned that it was a spectacular fall. I’d have given it an 8.”
John feigned a hurt look, “Not a 10?”
“Oh please, the blood kinda spoiled the whole affect.”
“Good point.” John snuggled closer minding Rodney’s ribs, “Can I stay here tonight?”
Beaming, Rodney answered, “I was kind of hoping you might. Of course if you snore and I knock you unconscious in your sleep I’m not going to be held accountable.” He lifted his hand to emphasize his point.
John lightly lay it down on the bed and snagged another kiss, “I’ll take my chances. Now get some rest and maybe if you’re good I’ll go round up some of your favorite MRE’s for lunch.”
“Macaroni and cheese!?”
“You’re being bossy again.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Besides you said you liked it when I boss you,” Rodney smirked, but it turned to a yawn.
“Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Yes, Sir,” Rodney snapped playfully.
His groin stirring at Rodney’s jibe, John shifted uncomfortably. They lay silent for a few minutes and Rodney slurred on the edges of sleep, “You’re sick, Major.”
“What? I didn’t know that until just now,” John said defensively. They both grinned and settled into a comfortable sleep, just the two of them. As it should be.
Author: Chaps1870
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: R
Warnings: some language, a little rough sex, nothing graphic.
Summary: Rodney is falsely accused of raping Sheppard.
Disclaimer: Characters sadly belong to someone else and no infringement of rights is intended.
A/N In response to boilerbmw’s McShep challenge where one is raped, sort of, and the other is falsely accused.
Chapter 1
Dr. Beckett was reviewing Major Sheppard’s medical chart and subsequent lab results after their latest mission. The fact that the major was lying unconscious after a serious blow to the head, along with bruising on his arms and wrists, did nothing but at fuel to the fire. The man had all the signs of forced sexual penetration and all the evidence, including DNA, pointed to Doctor McKay. Considering the circumstances and McKay’s unwillingness to talk, he had no choice but to call Elizabeth. He sincerely hoped she could get Rodney to explain what happened during the mission that would account for what he was seeing. Despite his own personal opinion that Rodney wasn’t capable of such a thing, the results were pretty damaging.
Keying his radio, he called her up, “Dr. Weir.”
“Yes, Carson.”
“I need you in the infirmary.”
“On my way.”
Waiting for her, Carson drifted to Rodney’s bedside. McKay wasn’t without his own injuries and sported a very vivid black eye that was swollen to the point he couldn’t see out of it. He lay on his side staring blankly at the major as if he were lost in his own little world.
“Rodney?”
Blinking, Rodney glanced up at him, “What?”
Carson hesitated, “Um... I need ta ask you some questions.”
McKay’s eyes shifted back to Sheppard. “How is he?”
“He’s got a concussion. Right now he’s still unconscious. Can ya tell me what happened?”
“Major Sheppard and I were off exploring when he fell. I called for help and we got him back to the gate.”
Beckett tried to hide his skepticism, relying on his profession to guide him, rather than cast judgment, “That’s rather vague, lad. Can ya be more specific?”
Jerking upright, Rodney snapped at him, “No, I can’t! Read the report.”
Elizabeth entered at the moment and caught the glances the two men shot at each other. “Carson. Rodney.” Looking at Dr. Beckett she asked calmly, “What can I do for you?”
“I was tryin’ ta get Rodney to tell me what happened.”
Glaring at Carson, Rodney slid off the bed, “Can I go?”
Catching a barely discernable nod from Carson, Elizabeth interceded, “Not just yet, Rodney?”
Rubbing his stubbled face, Carson sighed, “I did an exam on Major Sheppard and well…I…aw bloody hell, I found signs of forced sexual penetration.” He looked at Rodney, “I found your DNA and that, along with the bruising on his wrists, leads me to believe it wasn’t consensual.”
Rodney’s eyes widened and he sat speechless, red creeping into his face. Elizabeth watched his discomfort, feeling her own face heat up. Shocked by the events she asked, “Is that true, Doctor McKay?”
Crossing his arms, a hard line formed on Rodney’s mouth and he remained silent. How could they possibly think he would do what they were suggesting. Yes, he and the Major had sex, but it wasn’t forced. He would never do that to John… never. It had gotten rough, but that wasn’t unusual either. They’d gotten caught up in the moment and one thing led to another. Very seldom did they indulge on a mission but the idyllic planet was too inviting and being separated from Teyla and Ford was too much temptation to resist. There was no way he could tell them what had happened without compromising the major’s command, so he kept silent. If this was going to come out, it would come from both of them.
It had been such a perfect afternoon until John had taken off through the bushes in a spontaneous game of tag and Rodney had run into the branch in his pursuit. John had come rushing back down the hill, only to slip and fall. Rodney had watched in horror as he lost his footing, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance. Losing his precarious hold on it, he’d fallen hard and his head had slammed into the ground on impact. It was terrifying to see him go limp and slide several more feet down the hill before coming to a rest.
Breathing harshly at the memory, Rodney clenched his eyes tightly, refusing to cry in front of Weir and Beckett. When he finally opened his eyes, they were staring sharply at him. Elizabeth was frowning when she asked, “I need you to tell me what happened.”
Rodney stepped closer, his anger showing, “This is crazy Elizabeth. I’d never hurt him.”
Carson reached out and stopped him with a hand to his chest. “How did you get the black eye?”
Pausing, Rodney said irritably, “I ran into a tree.” God, even to his ears it sounded lame. “Look, it was an accident. We were running and I ran into a branch. The major came back to see if he could help and he slipped down the hill. His head hit a rock and he was knocked unconscious.”
“That explains why he is unconscious, but that doesn’t explain the other,” said Elizabeth, clearly unconvinced by his explanation.
Leaning back onto the edge of the bed, Rodney said stubbornly, his chin jutting defiantly, “Look I’m not saying anything more until the Major wakes and I can speak to him.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m afraid you won’t be speaking to Major Sheppard until we’ve had a chance to talk to him first. I’m sorry, Rodney, but unless you are willing to explain why the Major has been raped, I have no choice but to have you locked up.”
“WHAT!?” Rodney looked at them in shock. He couldn’t believe they thought so little of him. “You can’t lock me up!”
Carson was holding onto him a little more firmly. He hated the stance he had to take but Rodney left him little choice, “She’s right, Rodney. I’ve done a complete blood workup and there is nothing to indicate an alien substance that might account for something unusual like this. The evidence is not in your favor and unless you have a better explanation, we canna have you running free. It could be an hour, a day or even more before the major wakes.”
Elizabeth looked at Rodney, “What’s it going to be?”
Rodney shrugged from Carson’s grasp, crossed his arms and remained silent. “Fine then,” sighed Elizabeth, a little angry and frustrated with his stubbornness at the moment. Turning to Doctor Beckett she tried to stay rational, “Can he be released?”
“Aye,” said Carson. He considered pleading with Rodney, but one look at him and he knew no more answers would be forthcoming.
Weir called Sergeant Bates on her radio, “I need a few of your men to come to the infirmary and escort Dr. McKay to a holding cell.”
There was a slight stutter followed by an affirmative reply. Carson handed Rodney his clothes. “You might as well get dressed while you wait.”
Rodney took the offered clothes, but one look at the blood stains and he paled. “I’ll keep these.”
The soldiers arrived and took McKay without a reason, only that he was to be held prisoner until further notice.
********
Rodney sat on the small cot that had been provided, his arms wrapped around his knees. It had been a day and still no word on John. The waiting was agonizing and his fear for his lover was mounting. The guards had been friendly enough most of the day, but those that brought his evening meal refused to even make eye contact. They practically threw his tray into the cell and Rodney pressed into the wall at his back, nervously.
They never said a word and left him alone to wonder why the sudden change. Oh, he could probably guess. Atlantis was a veritable grapevine where gossip was concerned. While Carson and Elizabeth would keep it confidential, others were not so likely to do the same. He was sure Bates would insist on some sort of formal charge and if not, the lab results would hang him. The fact that he wasn’t the most popular person in Atlantis probably made this a very juicy morsel for the majority of the population.
Burying his head in his knees he thought of John. Tears gathered but he wiped them quickly, not wanting others to see him vulnerable. He was so screwed, but he still couldn’t convince himself that telling the truth was the way out. When John woke, he’d clear him and they’d deal with it then. Rodney just couldn’t make the decision himself after all the trouble they’d gone through to hide it from the general public.
He wished more than anything that he could go back and change what had happened, do it differently. Still… up until John had gotten hurt it had been an incredible day. The planet had already been scouted and they were only there to gather some samples for the geologists. Elizabeth even stressed that the mission was an easy one and that perhaps they could do some exploring at their leisure. So he and John had gone one way and Ford and Teyla had gone another.
The day to themselves, he and John were hardly out of earshot when hands were groping for skin, passion mounting until they thought of nothing but release. Rodney had John’s wrists in a tight grip against a tree and even as he complained about the bark scraping his chest John was begging Rodney for more. In the state they were in, even lube took too much time and it had been a rough penetration. John only hissed for a second before he was pushing back, impaling himself hard and fast against Rodney’s desperate thrusting. It was over before they’d really even started with both of them breathing harshly in a heap on the forest floor. Rodney tried to apologize but the only response from John had been a blissful smile.
Now as he thought back on the day, he felt the twitch in his groin and rather than let his mind drift to the rest of that day and the other times they stopped to satisfy their urges he tried to focus on some of projects he had going. It was far easier than thinking about what would happen if John never woke. Stretching out on the bed, he threw his arm over his eyes, willing himself not to cry at the thought of being alone again. Coming to Atlantis was beyond any of his imaginings, the one assignment that any scientist would kill for. Being assigned to Major Sheppard’s team was icing on the cake and despite his struggles to fit in, he finally made a place for himself and he was content.
His friendship with Major Sheppard was unexpected, but they’d slid into it so easily that before either of them realized it they were spending free time together and thinking nothing of it. Over time they subconsciously began exploring the far reaches of the city as an excuse to be alone, neither of them aware of the reason behind their actions. As they became closer, the casual touches were no longer enough and they found reasons for their contact to linger. Leaning over a shoulder to see what the other was doing, sitting closer when they rested during their explorations, and little touches of comfort when either one needed it.
One thing led to another and before they realized it, they were past the point of no return. The first time was burned in Rodney’s brain. A slow and easy seduction that left them breathless for more of what they finally shared. They never spoke much of it, just took it for what it was. No one questioned the time they spent together, nor did they know what went on behind closed doors. It was time of learning for both of them, neither having really considered themselves gay but unable to deny what they were feeling. They played the soldier and the scientist in public and no one suspected a thing.
They’d made a silent commitment to one another and it was all threatening to fall apart because of one minor indiscretion. He had no way of knowing how John would react to the whole outing thing and sitting in a cell all alone with only his fears, Rodney’s tears rolled silently down his cheeks as he drifted to sleep.
*******
John tossed restlessly on the bed his head pounding unmercifully every time he tried to open his eyes even slightly. The light sent daggers straight through his eye sockets into his brain and he muttered incoherently to anyone that would listen. It was only making sense in his befuddled mind and those around him were anxiously trying to bring him closer to consciousness, unaware that their voices alone were aggravating his pain.
His mind wandered, wanting the darkness to take him back to that peaceful resting place, but the voices remained, asking questions he didn’t understand. “Who did this, Major? Who hurt you, Major? John, can you tell us what happened?”
It came to him slowly and he whispered the one name that rushed to the forefront of all his concerns, “Rodney…” He needed him, but the effort of speaking was enough to bring back the comfort of oblivious sleep.
Elizabeth, Carson and several nurses stood speechless, unable or unwilling to believe what they’d heard. Carson silently took Major Sheppard’s vitals. The nurses drifted away anxiously, shocked by the turn of events. Elizabeth sadly shook her head and left to return to her office. This was one time she’d have done anything not to be in charge.
Chapter 2
He was startled awake by the sound of the door opening and jerked upright. With one eye swollen and the other glazed from sleep, Rodney tried to focus on his surroundings. Making out the blurry images of two soldiers he stood up, hoping for some good news. Stepping forward, he started to ask, “How is he? Is he…”
His vision compromised, he never saw it coming. His dinner tray was suddenly coming at him, it’s contents scattering on impact. Closing his eyes, he instinctively raised his hands protect himself. It was the moment they were waiting for, knowing his reaction before he did. Unknowingly, he’d left himself open for attack and the next thing he knew he was on his knees, doubled over and gasping for air from the explosion of pain in his stomach. One hand rested on the ground and he tried to use it for leverage only to have it viciously kicked out from under him. Landing on the steel floor, his face hit hard, but it went unnoticed by his attackers. Curling around himself, he tried to shield his body from the worst of the blows, but they found their target anyway. Boots and fists pummeled him over and over.
He cried out, shamelessly, “Stop… please stop.” Every kick rocked his body, lifting his battered frame off the floor.
They continued undeterred and he begged between gasps. “You’re making… a… mistake.” He pleaded over and over, tears marring his face as the torturous kicks went on. “Please… stop!” His voice was a mere whisper, unheard by his attackers.
One of the men was circling and Rodney covered his head with his hands, self preservation taking over. His head and stomach were the most vulnerable and he tried to curl up tighter, giving his attackers less of a target. Hands deflected the blows to his head, but the sickening crunch and blinding pain in several of his fingers was making it harder to keep his hold. His arms, ribs and back took the brunt of the kicks and he wished that he’d pass out, anything to stop the agonizing pain. It seemed to go on forever until there didn’t seem a place on his body left untouched. Breathing was no longer an unconscious, involuntary response and his lungs struggled against sharp, stabbing pain to draw even the smallest breath.
Shouts became muffled as consciousness faded in and out, but the words were clear enough. Faggot. Homo. Queer. When they’d had enough and were assured he was no longer a threat they left him in heap, seemingly unconcerned whether he was even alive.
Afraid to move, he lay perfectly still, but unable to stop the trembling in his abused flesh. Tears came unbidden as he worked up the courage to move and a groan escaped as he tried to lift up enough to even crawl. Sweating heavily, his jaw clenched tight, there seemed no end to the hurt. Nausea threatened several times as the bile rose in his throat. Each time, he swallowed hard against it, unwilling to go through the unimaginable pain of throwing up. He lay for several minutes, unaware of the passage of time and again tried to rise. Very slowly he managed to get an arm under him, mindful of his twisted, throbbing fingers. His arm shaking as he lifted himself up, the room spun violently around him. Any attempt to fight back the sick feeling was lost and his stomach began convulsing. Even when there was nothing more, he continued to dry heave until the pain overtook him. Breathless and unable to draw a deep breath, he collapsed to the floor amidst the bile and remnants of his dinner tray, letting the darkness offer what relief it could.
********
John woke several times in the night, but never long and never with much lucidity. His head throbbed each time and only began to diminish with the approaching dawn. Still light headed, he cursed Carson for keeping him drugged, but thankful for the relief just the same. Lying on his back, his eyes closed, he listened to the sounds around him as the infirmary came back alive with the morning.
The ache in his head was a dull throb and he could open his eyes and not want to scream. Hearing Carson’s heavy accent, he pretended to be asleep, not ready to face the barrage of poking and prodding. He barely remembered the fall that put him here and everything after that was a mystery. Turning his head, he cautiously opened his eyes and felt a little disappointed not to see Rodney snoring in the chair beside his bed. He’d gotten so used to it whenever he was injured, it seemed unnatural not to wake and see him there. Maybe he’d done the smart thing and actually gotten some sleep in a real bed.
His throat was raspy and dry and seeing Carson’s lab coat cross his line of sight he asked hoarsely, “Water.”
“I was wonderin’ when you’d be wakin’, Major. I was beginnin’ ta worry.” Helping him sit up, Carson handed him the water. “Take it slow. Your stomach might be feelin’ a wee touchy after your head injury.”
Drinking the water, he leaned back on the bed, “How long?”
“They brought ya in two days ago. How are you feelin?”
“Sore. Hell of a headache,” he smiled weakly.
“Do ya remember what happened, then?”
“I fell down the hill. McKay ran into a branch or something and hurt his eye. I went back for him and I musta slipped.” He grinned, “I remember seeing the sky on my way down and that was all she wrote.”
“That’s all?” asked Carson, surprised by Major Sheppard’s good nature, considering the circumstances.
“It was a stupid move on my part. The hill was kinda wet, shoulda been more careful, but you know McKay when he’s hurt. The world is coming to an end as far as he’s concerned. How’s he doing, anyway? I half expected him to be here.”
Carson’s face fell and he’d tried to recover, but it wasn’t quick enough. Sheppard frowned. “What?” Alarm filled John’s voice as he asked worriedly, “Is he alright? What aren’t you telling me?”
Reaching out, Carson hesitated, “Calm down, Major.”
Not the response he was looking for, John became agitated, his voice getting louder. “Where’s Rodney?”
“Look Major, there were some unanswered questions when they brought ya in and Rodney refused to cooperate,” hedged Carson, not sure how to approach the situation.
“What questions? I fell down a damn hill. McKay coulda told you that!” exclaimed John.
“Major…” Carson reached out and grasped his arm lightly as he tried again, his voice softer as he spoke, “When I did your examination I found some rather disturbing results.”
John was trying not to freak by Carson’s sudden concern, “Like what?”
With a deep breath, Carson explained what he’d found, the tearing, the DNA, the bruising. He watched as John paled with each passing moment and by the time he got to the part where Rodney had been taken into custody, the major was ripping out his IV and trying to get out of bed.
Carson grabbed for him, fighting to keep him in bed. Sheppard fought back frantically, screaming every obscenity he could think of about how ignorant they were. He lashed out at Carson with all he had.
Getting too close to the desperate man, Carson took a right hook to his jaw. His eyes rolled back in his head and he never felt the floor come up to meet him. Several nurses rushed to his side and John made his escape, intent on finding Rodney. On wobbly legs, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat, John staggered from one wall the other, pinballing his way blindly through the corridors. If he had any chance of getting there before security dragged his ass back he had to outrun them or hope that the nurses gave him a head start before calling Bates.
Luck was on his side and he skidded to a halt just outside the holding area, still undetected. Looking down at himself, he realized that dressed in scrubs and soaked to the skin, he might have a hard time convincing his men he was here in an official capacity. With several deep breaths and a quick swipe of his face, he squared his shoulders and advanced on the two guards. They snapped at attention, shocked by his sudden appearance. The older one Jargonson, recovered first and smiled, “Morning, Major. Glad to see you’re up and about.”
Not up to small talk, he gave the order, “Open it.”
Pilster, the other man, frowned. “You sure you wanna do that, Sir.”
Patience wearing out, Sheppard shouted, “Open the damn door!”
Jargonson fumbled with his card and opened the lock, “There you go, Sir. He shouldn’t give you too much trouble.”
Sheppard stopped cold and grabbed the man by the shirt, slamming him hard in to the wall, “What the hell does that mean?”
Pilster, young and cocky, flashed a proud smile, “We took care of him, Sir.”
Still in his commanding officer’s grip, Jargonson was sweating as he hissed at Pilster “Shut up.”
Paling, John’s hands went limp and he dropped the man in his grasp. His voice was barely a whisper as he turned into the cell and was assaulted by the smell, “Oh god, Rodney.”
He couldn’t move, his eyes glued to his lover as he lay in the middle of the floor in his own mess. The two guards stood at his back and he hollered frantically as he darted to Rodney’s side, kneeling in the muck without a second thought, “CALL MEDICAL! NOW!” Stunned by his actions, the two men just stared.
Very gently, he picked up Rodney’s head and shifting, held it in his lap as his hands stroked the damp strands of hair. He was cold and clammy to the touch and even above his own heavy breathing he could hear the wheezing with the shallow rise and fall of Rodney’s chest. Looking up with tears in his eyes he shouted at the two guards, “DAMN IT! CALL FOR HELP!” Startled, they scrambled from the room, calling the infirmary for assistance.
John was shaking as he held Rodney, mumbling as he caressed the uninjured side of his face. “Come on Rodney, wake up for me. Come on baby, don’t you do this to me.” There was fear in his voice and he gently shook Rodney, trying to stir him awake.
After countless pleas, Rodney came awake with a start and cried out, his eye wide with fear when he realized where he was. Adrenalin replaced the pain long enough for him to scramble away to the far wall where he slumped against it, holding his hands carefully away from his body.
His eyes darted around the room, trying to focus and settling on his lover, he whispered, “John?” Tilting his head to look out his good eye, Rodney warily watched the guards at the door. He glanced at them nervously, his breathing increasing as his fear escalated.
“They won’t hurt you any more. It’s over. I promise,” hushed John, worried by Rodney’s physical and mental state. He was holding his bruised arms close to his body, his hands trembling from the pain in them. The purple blotches covering Rodney pulled at his heart and he needed to know how badly he was hurt. Moving closer, he reached out and tried to settle around Rodney only to be pushed away.
“Not here. Please,” begged Rodney, his eyes adding to his desperate plea and John backed off understandingly. He knew Rodney was afraid of breaking down after all he been through and he certainly didn’t want to make it a public event.
His eye started to glaze over and suddenly he tilted dangerously to the left. Bumping his hand on the way over, he whimpered and shut his eye, sinking further to lie on the floor. The adrenalin was wearing off and his breathing became shallow to compensate for the added pain. John felt helpless as he waited and gently ran his fingers through Rodney’s hair as he uttered soft reassurances. By the time Carson and his crew arrived, Rodney was either sleeping or unconscious and John was a nervous wreck, ready to lash out.
Carson knelt beside Rodney and did a quick check, asking questions as he worked, “Was he conscious, Major?”
“Yeah, just before you got here.”
“How did he seem?”
“What the hell do you mean, how did he seem? He’s had the shit beat out of him, Carson. He was in a lot of pain.” As they moved Rodney onto the stretcher, John grabbed the orderly and snapped at him, “Careful, I think his fingers are broken.”
Carson gently pulled him away, “Let them do their job, Major. The sooner we get him back to the infirmary the sooner we can see what the damage is.” His own guilt weighed heavily on the doctor but now was not the time and he hid it behind the mask of his profession.
John sat back on his haunches and pinched the bridge of his nose, his head rebelling against the excursion and strain. Carson reached for him, “I think you’d best be coming too.”
Jerking from his touch, Sheppard growled at him with a cold fury in his eyes, “Not yet. I have something to do first.”
A small crowd was gathering outside the room and jumping to his feet, John stormed out. They cleared a path until the only two men still in his line of sight were Jargonson and Pilster. Before anyone could react, he was on Pilster and was hitting him wildly, taking his anger out on the young soldier. Stackhouse and Bates arrived in time to see him start in on Jargonson and it took both of them to pull him off the struggling man. Even then he fought to get back to them until Ford and Teyla showed up. Both stepped in front of him and began talking until he calmed down enough to be released.
The two injured soldiers lay crouched on the floor, looking fearful as he stood above them, tight fisted and shaking with barely controlled rage. Turning on Bates he, ordered through clenched teeth, “Get them out of my sight.” He paused, adding as he pointed inside Rodney’s cell, “Make ‘em clean that out first, with fucking toothbrushes.”
Bates answered with a wry grin, “Yes, Sir.” He and Stackhouse dragged the two men away without a second thought and John stared after them. They hadn’t even batted an eye and he wondered if they knew the truth. Judging by the growing crowd it was hard to imagine their was a soul that didn’t know about him and Rodney. If there was any doubt, it was quickly put it to rest when he stepped beside Rodney’s gurney and dropped a light kiss on his forehead before Carson rushed him to the infirmary.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth entered, looking around for Doctor Beckett before she checked on his patients. Finding him coming out of his tiny office, he spotted her and waved her over. “Mornin’.”
Nodding towards Rodney’s bed, she asked in a hushed tone, “How is he?”
Carson shook his head, “They did a job on him. He has eight cracked ribs, six broken fingers, and bruising over a good part of his body. Thankfully he didna have any internal damage. He’s goin’ ta hurt somethin’ fierce when he wakes.”
Her eyes drifting to Rodney’s bedside. John sat beside him, his head resting on the bed, sound asleep. Rodney’s hands were heavily casted and each one rested on a mound of pillows to keep them elevated. Where his arms were uncovered, the mottled bruising showed vivid against his pale skin. It was almost inconceivable to her that someone could beat a man with such disregard. Sadly, she too had to shoulder some of the responsibility, along with the military that should have taken better care of Rodney. After his beating, no one had bothered to check on him for almost seven hours. To think about him lying alone for so long with only his pain to keep him company rankled her.
Pilster and Jargonson had mistakenly thought they were doing everyone a favor by taking matters into their own hands but they found out otherwise. Elizabeth had spent the morning speaking with Sergeant Bates trying to uncover what had happened. Bates wasn’t happy with his men. It was somewhat of a relief to her to discover that Pilster and Jargonson were among the minority. Most of the population was appalled by their actions. Their initial upset didn’t stem from Rodney and John’s sexual preference but rather the suspected rape. Oh, there were a few dissenters but after John’s attack on Pilster and Jargonson they wisely kept it to themselves.
As for Sheppard, she’d had to reprimand him for his actions and place a note in his file. He’d shrugged it off, in his eyes he’d acted as Rodney’s lover, not commanding officer of Atlantis. He did however promise to show more restraint in the future after she explained that he had a reputation to uphold and beating his men was not good for morale.
Elizabeth went on a witch hunt to find out who leaked the information that had originally been limited to herself and Carson. Finding the guilty lab tech, she reamed him for spreading confidential information and confined him to quarters for a month. A harsh reminder was given to every member of the expedition about spreading unmitigated rumors and she added a pointed line or two about tolerance.
Carson watched her from the corner of his eye, his own thoughts mirroring hers. They would both have some apologizing to do when Rodney finally woke, and they only hoped he’d understand they’d acted in the best interest of Atlantis, albeit misguided. Considering Sheppard’s popularity with his men, they should have foreseen the possibility for violence, but even with emotions running high it hadn’t occurred to them that their own people would act as vigilantes. Bates of course berated himself for not being more careful, but Elizabeth assured him that as leader it was her responsibility to anticipate such things, not his.
It didn’t negate their guilt for not listening to the voice of reason that denied Rodney’s possible involvement in the first place. Seeing his battered frame on the bed was a grim reminder that they’d handled the situation poorly from the start. Carson was thankful that Rodney was even still alive after the beating he taken and vowed that next time he’d listen to his heart a little more closely. He was almost certain Elizabeth would do the same.
Elizabeth smiled at the pair and leaned towards Carson, “I have to admit that the two of them together is not something I would have considered. I mean Rodney is so…”
“Stubborn, snappy and arrogant?” provided Carson with a smile.
“Exactly, and John is…”
“Stubborn, snappy…” Carson’s accent was thick with amusement.
They laughed quietly and Elizabeth replied, “I suppose it shouldn’t seem so strange when you put it like that.”
Carson chuckled as he nodded towards his sleeping patients, “They are kinda cute.”
“Cute? I think you might want to keep that particular thought to yourself.”
“Aye.”
Standing together in companionable silence they watched the unlikely pair sleep, knowing that they still had to face the unenviable task of apologizing to their friends.
*************
“Are you sure this was such a good idea?”
Rodney looked at him, sweat beading heavily on his skin as his plastered hand wrapped around his rib cage. He answered between breaths, “Well no, not at this particular moment.”
“You wanna go back?”
“NO! If I have to spend another minute with the nurses gawking at me I’m going to kill one of them. I’ve had plenty of time to plan slow and torturous deaths for each of them. God they’re insufferable. There must be some unwritten rule that a patient is not allowed more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep.” The effort of rambling left him breathless and he slumped into John, letting him support more of his weight as they slowly made their way down the hall.
“A wheelchair might have been a thought,” smirked John, noticing that Rodney was limping heavily on the leg that had been bruised the worst.
It had been two weeks since Rodney’s attack and he still bore the marks. Even Kavanaugh and his camp couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man. Rodney of course hated every minute of their dribbling pity and only this morning had he talked Carson into releasing him. The only condition… he had to make it to his room and once there he wasn’t allowed to leave until he was cleared by the good doctor.
Rodney would have signed away a ZPM to get away from everyone, so bed rest seemed a small price to pay for his freedom. Besides, he wasn’t all too sure he was going to make it too his room at which point it wouldn’t matter to Carson what the bargain was.
Letting John take more of his weight, Rodney bit back a groan, “Unless you want to carry my ass back to the infirmary I suggest we pick up the pace before Carson finds me sprawled out in the hallway.”
“Do you know you get bossy when you’re sick?”
“So shoot me,” retorted Rodney. The effect was lost a bit as he bit down on his lip to keep from moaning.
John tightened his hold, asking worriedly, “You gonna make it?”
Rodney gritted between his teeth, “If I have to crawl.”
Flashing him a smile, John teased, “Well that is certainly looking more like a possibility with each passing inch.”
“If you are working on your comedy routine, I wouldn’t quite your day job just yet.”
“Hmm, I wonder how funny it would be if I let go and let you fall on your ass.”
Rodney chirped, “Have I mentioned that you are hysterically funny?”
“That’s what I thought.”
They stopped suddenly, and Rodney looked up from his effort of putting one foot in front of the other. As the door slid open revealing his room, he stumbled inside and eased himself down on the bed. “Thank god.”
John smiled as he followed and began removing Rodney’s shoes, “I thought you were an atheist.”
“Well sometimes you have to go with what works. In this case it seemed appropriate.”
“You want a shower first?”
Holding up both heavily casted hands he smirked, “I doubt Carson would appreciate me if I showed up with soggy plaster dripping off my hands.”
John nudged his legs and pulled on Rodney’s pants, “Lift up.” Bracing himself on his elbows, Rodney lifted up and let John pull his pants off, then very carefully he removed his shirt from around the casts and helped him lie back down. Disappearing for a minute he returned with a wet rag and a towel. Without asking he wiped the sweat away and dried him off. “Better?”
Rodney nodded with a yawn, “Thanks.” Shifting on the bed, John settled next to him. Opening his eyes, Rodney caught him smiling. “What?”
“Well I was thinking that since we no longer have to hide, that you might want to move in with me?”
“Really? Knowing what a slob I am?”
Leaning closer, John kissed him, “I think I can live with a little chaos in my life.”
Reaching a hand behind John’s neck, Rodney pulled him down. “Very funny. Kiss me again.”
“Like I have choice, that cast weighs a ton.” He lowered himself to Rodney’s lips and gave in to his desires, missing this closeness while on display in the infirmary.
“I’m sorry you went through all that alone,” John said softly, trailing kisses up Rodney’s jawbone.
“I would never hurt you. When they thought I’d raped you, I thought…” Rodney paused. It had all been a misunderstanding, perpetuated by circumstances. As hard as Rodney tried to blame Elizabeth and Carson, he himself could have put it all to rest with a simple explanation. He hadn’t. When backed into the corner, he’d stubbornly remained silent. Of course, having the crap beat of him hadn’t entered the picture at the time. Still… he would have endured even that again if it meant keeping John’s trust.
“You should have just told them,” insisted John, still peeved at Rodney for being so stubborn when it came to revealing their relationship.
“Oh yeah, I can see that conversation. Yes, I fucked the major but he loved it… really. I’m sure they would have believed that. I thought at the time that it was better to wait and see what you wanted to do rather than out us. I shouldn’t have gotten so rough and none of this would have happened.”
“I was as much to blame as you.” His kisses continued, “I like it rough sometimes. No one would have ever known if I hadn’t fallen on my ass.”
Rodney said sarcastically, “Have I mentioned that it was a spectacular fall. I’d have given it an 8.”
John feigned a hurt look, “Not a 10?”
“Oh please, the blood kinda spoiled the whole affect.”
“Good point.” John snuggled closer minding Rodney’s ribs, “Can I stay here tonight?”
Beaming, Rodney answered, “I was kind of hoping you might. Of course if you snore and I knock you unconscious in your sleep I’m not going to be held accountable.” He lifted his hand to emphasize his point.
John lightly lay it down on the bed and snagged another kiss, “I’ll take my chances. Now get some rest and maybe if you’re good I’ll go round up some of your favorite MRE’s for lunch.”
“Macaroni and cheese!?”
“You’re being bossy again.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Besides you said you liked it when I boss you,” Rodney smirked, but it turned to a yawn.
“Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Yes, Sir,” Rodney snapped playfully.
His groin stirring at Rodney’s jibe, John shifted uncomfortably. They lay silent for a few minutes and Rodney slurred on the edges of sleep, “You’re sick, Major.”
“What? I didn’t know that until just now,” John said defensively. They both grinned and settled into a comfortable sleep, just the two of them. As it should be.
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I remember the wonderful days when I thought all medical information was absolutely sacrosanct in the hands of people who took care of it. Then I went to work in a small-town call center where the payroll clerks knew I'd been promoted before I. Did they tell me? Of course not. That's confidential information, to be released only by my boss. Did they tell all their local yokel friends over lunch who'd tried for the same promotion and lost out to the city girl? You bet your ass they did.
They also handled the health insurance paperwork for the call center. No one could go out for any form of leave at all without the entire office knowing within a week what the surgery was for and how the post-op went, all without the necessity of visiting the patient. I swear these girls are going to get the company sued someday, but I can still see why they do it.
The Atlantis lab technician is going to cross paths somewhere with the men under John's command, men who are less worried about confidentiality than they are about their Major. The evidence for rape was pretty damning, and the technician is only human. S/He tells his or her friends in the squad about their friend in the infirmary, feeling no compunction about discussing the evidentiary details with the folks who are most likely to have the job of doing something about it. Rodney himself was well aware that he wasn't too popular in the city; why would a lab tech who might only ever have gotten the sharpest end of Rodney's wit take steps to guard his privacy?
There are certain forms of social interaction that just don't work without this type of offsides communication. That lab technician has to be able to eat lunch, walk home and expect a certain level of protection/lack of harassment from the guards asking him or her questions about their commanding officer, who is by all accounts in fairly worrisome condition. If the guards don't get the information from a lab tech, it's going to come from somewhere else, and why should he or she forgo the the benfits of disclosing it in the meantime?
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