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Title: Unspoken Part 7
Author: Chaps1870
Pairing: Rodney/Carson John friendship.
Rating: R for language
Summary: John finds out that Rodney is gay and it tests the bonds of friendship.
Disclaimer: They belong to someone else, I’ll return them when I’m done….maybe. No infringement of copyright is intended.
Chapter 7
Rodney stood in the middle of the hot field, breathing hard as his sweat covered clothes clung to him and the dust rose around him. His eyes followed the movements of his opponent, waiting for him to make his move as they circled around each other looking for an opening. He held tight to what looked like a pugil-stick, but it had too little padding around the ends for Rodney’s liking. The heavy ends had caught him more than once already and he eyed his adversary cautiously, wishing Pojan would signal for a break. Three rounds. That was all he had to go. He been given a choice of weapons, all hand to hand, but none of them were anything he was familiar with, especially not to the degree where he could make an adequate defense.
His ribs and arms were sore and aching, no doubt bruised from the hits he’d taken. Suddenly his opponent advanced. Rodney parried the first two blows then dodged left to avoid the next. Not quick enough, the stick grazed his sore wrist. His hand couldn’t keep its grip and the weapon slipped from his grasp, leaving him wide open.
He saw it coming even as he reached out to retrieve the pugil-stick but it was too late. The air in his lungs was forcibly expelled with the blow to his exposed rib cage. Mouth open and gasping for air, he wrapped an arm around his ribs and tried to escape the next hit, but there was no way to avoid it. He was too close and too slow. He looked up in time to see it make contact with his head. With the sudden explosion of pain and a flash of light, his eyes rolled back in his head. He never felt the impact as he fell face first in the dirt.
Opening his eyes, he saw blue sky. His mind drifted and he was vaguely aware of garbled and distant voices. Hands grabbed for him and he felt himself being moved. The world around him shifted but his eyes refused to focus as three blurry shapes loomed into view.
Blinking several times, he tried to focus but his world tilted as he started to slip sideways. More hands grabbed for him. “Come on, McKay. Let’s get you out of the sun for a bit.”
Rodney slurred, “’kay.”
Ford and Sheppard each grabbed an arm and hoisted it over a shoulder, steadying the swaying McKay. His eyes remained unfocused, blood dripping from the cut above his temple. They practically dragged him to their ‘holding pen’ where they settled him under the shade of the tree. Teyla knelt beside him, immediately tending to the injury on his head. Rodney pulled away sharply as the antiseptic bit into the wound, “OW!”
“We are only trying to help, Doctor McKay.”
Visibly shaken, Rodney’s eyes saddened as he drunkenly pushed her hand away, still a few cards shy of a full deck. Pulling up his knees, he rested his throbbing head there and said in a quiet voice, “Tired...wanna go home.”
Sheppard’s jaw clenched as he looked at Teyla and Ford. “See if you can get him to lie down, I’m going to talk to Pojan.”
Pojan was in the field talking with several of his men when John approached. “Look, I’ve had about enough of this. It’s time to end this before he really gets hurt.”
“I am sorry Major Sheppard, but you yourself consented to the conditions. He still has two more days.”
“And what if he doesn’t make it through today?” John said, angrily.
The old man raised an eyebrow, “You still have such little faith him?”
Taken aback, Sheppard said defensively, “It’s not that. I just don’t like seeing him hurt. There’s no point in this. He’s a scientist damn it, not a soldier.”
“Perhaps, but that does not negate our traditions. I have to admit that your team intrigues me, Major. Your Doctor McKay is a very interesting individual. You claim he is a liability to your team and yet he has performed our tests within a satisfactory range. He is also the only person that has been able to block us from reading his thoughts.”
“I thought you read his mind just like the rest of us.”
“Ah, well that was the first day. Since then he has managed to construct some sort of mental barrier against us. Only when his defenses are down are we able to see into his mind.”
Sheppard smirked, “Good for him.” Crossing his arms over his chest he demanded, “Let him go.”
Shaking his head, Pojan remained adamant, “I cannot. There are still issues that need to be resolved.”
“So you just use him, let him take a beating to fulfill some warped desire by your people to make everyone live up to your standards.”
“It is much more than that, Major.”
“Well you know what? I’m not getting it!” exclaimed Sheppard.
Pojan’s men stepped closer at the Major’s shout, and the old man raised his hand to them as he spoke calmly, “I suggest you return to Doctor McKay. He has two hours and then we will begin again.”
John glared at him. “What if he doesn’t want to play your sick game anymore?”
Confident, Pojan answered, “He will.” Turning his back, he walked away, leaving John no choice but to return to his teammates.
*******************
Rodney was leaning back against the tree with his eyes closed, trying hard to ignore his teammates as they paced nervously around him. Wrapping an arm around his aching ribs, he shifted his weight and got his feet under him. Teyla and Ford silently helped him up. He thanked them with a sheepish nod. Looking out into the field, Rodney dropped his head, no longer able to hide his exhaustion or weariness. He wore it like a coat that was too suddenly too heavy to bear. Glancing up at his teammates, all he saw was pity in their eyes and felt the heat rise in his face, embarrassed by their reaction to his weakness. Turning his back on them, he squared his shoulders and started out to the field.
Ford rushed after him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around before he’d taken two steps. “Wait. You said earlier you had a choice of weapons, right?’
McKay frowned, “There wasn’t much of a choice. It was more a like the lesser of two evils.”
Impatient, Major Sheppard asked, “What are you getting at, Ford?”
Pointing at Teyla, Ford suggested enthusiastically, “Give him your sticks. Let him use those.” He added with his boyish grin, “They did say he had a choice.”
Teyla was nodding, already handing her weapons to Rodney. “The worst they will say is no. At least this way you will be familiar with the weapon.”
“Come on, Doc. Take ‘em. You can kick ass with ‘em,” Ford smiled as he encouraged McKay.
Sheppard was growing more agitated the closer McKay’s time came to fight again. Not knowing he’d been training with Teyla, he said apprehensively, “Look, you can just refuse. What’s the worst they’ll do?”
Shaking his head, Rodney took the offered sticks and looked John right in the eye, “They’ll kill you.” He walked away from his stunned and speechless teammates.
Entering the ring, the warrior eyed his choice of weapons curiously then looked at Pojan for direction. Pojan nodded and the man shrugged his shoulders, taking up a defensive stance against his opponent. Rodney felt much more at ease with the sticks in his hands than he had the pugil-stick and that confidence showed in his posture. He blocked several hits and even managed to strike offensively a few times.
From a distance Sheppard watched the exchange and asked out loud without thinking, “Where the hell did he learn that?”
Teyla said proudly, “I have been working with him.”
“He’s…uh…um…not bad,” said John, astonished.
“He practices, Major,” replied Teyla with amusement.
Sheppard answered indignantly, “I practice!”
“Doctor McKay has been practicing since his surgery. He has been very dedicated.”
Sheppard frowned, his unease with being left out of the loop regarding McKay was unsettling. “Why didn’t he ever say anything to me? I mean…he’s gone to all this trouble to work out and he didn’t say a word.”
Ford continued to watch McKay, his body unconsciously moving in time with the fighters, “He made me promise not to say anything.”
Glancing towards Teyla, she too nodded, “He did not wish for you to know.”
The hurt that came with her statement surprised him. At one time he would have known everything McKay was up to. At one time he would have been the one McKay came to for help. At one time he was the one spending free time with his best friend. At one time he didn’t hate himself for being such an ass about his best friend’s sexual preference. It occurred to him as he watched Rodney duck and dodge his opponent, giving as good as he got, that Rodney could still surprise him.
He was startled from his thoughts when Rodney went down hard. Without thinking he yelled across the field, “Get up, McKay! Don’t give up!”
Rodney scrambled to his feet and barely deflected another blow to his head. He was knocked down again a few minutes later and slowly got to his hands and knees as his opponent approached for the final strike. Sheppard was about to yell when Rodney’s hand shot up, stick in hand and struck the man as hard as he could between the legs. The man folded in on himself and crumbled to the ground moaning. Rodney shakily got to his feet, and stood triumphant over the warrior. Pojan and several of the other warriors bowed their heads as Rodney staggered off the field to rest between rounds.
His teammates watched him leave, a lot worse for wear than when the day started. Ford turned to the others and asked tentatively, “You think he was serious?”
“About what?” Sheppard asked absently, his eyes trained on McKay’s retreating form.
“Them killing us if he didn’t do what they wanted.”
The thought of McKay being under such pressure to perform was disturbing. Four days of watching him toil in the hot sun under the pretext of making him a better warrior was one thing. To find out he was doing it to save their lives was humbling.
The day wore on for Rodney, with each round becoming progressively harder to win. By the third triumph, he was holding his ribs tightly against the throbbing pain, wondering how he could possibly make it through tomorrow feeling as badly as he did. Entering the bath, he stripped away the sweat soaked clothes that clung to him, wincing as he pulled his shirt over his head. With a shaky hand, his fingers gently prodded the heavy bruising on his torso. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat stiffly, breaking out in a sweat at the tenderness along his ribs. None felt broken and he could still breathe, but the soreness would only worsen with the dawn. For the first time since arriving on this stinking, maladjusted planet, Rodney wasn’t so sure he was going to make it through another day.
Author: Chaps1870
Pairing: Rodney/Carson John friendship.
Rating: R for language
Summary: John finds out that Rodney is gay and it tests the bonds of friendship.
Disclaimer: They belong to someone else, I’ll return them when I’m done….maybe. No infringement of copyright is intended.
Chapter 7
Rodney stood in the middle of the hot field, breathing hard as his sweat covered clothes clung to him and the dust rose around him. His eyes followed the movements of his opponent, waiting for him to make his move as they circled around each other looking for an opening. He held tight to what looked like a pugil-stick, but it had too little padding around the ends for Rodney’s liking. The heavy ends had caught him more than once already and he eyed his adversary cautiously, wishing Pojan would signal for a break. Three rounds. That was all he had to go. He been given a choice of weapons, all hand to hand, but none of them were anything he was familiar with, especially not to the degree where he could make an adequate defense.
His ribs and arms were sore and aching, no doubt bruised from the hits he’d taken. Suddenly his opponent advanced. Rodney parried the first two blows then dodged left to avoid the next. Not quick enough, the stick grazed his sore wrist. His hand couldn’t keep its grip and the weapon slipped from his grasp, leaving him wide open.
He saw it coming even as he reached out to retrieve the pugil-stick but it was too late. The air in his lungs was forcibly expelled with the blow to his exposed rib cage. Mouth open and gasping for air, he wrapped an arm around his ribs and tried to escape the next hit, but there was no way to avoid it. He was too close and too slow. He looked up in time to see it make contact with his head. With the sudden explosion of pain and a flash of light, his eyes rolled back in his head. He never felt the impact as he fell face first in the dirt.
Opening his eyes, he saw blue sky. His mind drifted and he was vaguely aware of garbled and distant voices. Hands grabbed for him and he felt himself being moved. The world around him shifted but his eyes refused to focus as three blurry shapes loomed into view.
Blinking several times, he tried to focus but his world tilted as he started to slip sideways. More hands grabbed for him. “Come on, McKay. Let’s get you out of the sun for a bit.”
Rodney slurred, “’kay.”
Ford and Sheppard each grabbed an arm and hoisted it over a shoulder, steadying the swaying McKay. His eyes remained unfocused, blood dripping from the cut above his temple. They practically dragged him to their ‘holding pen’ where they settled him under the shade of the tree. Teyla knelt beside him, immediately tending to the injury on his head. Rodney pulled away sharply as the antiseptic bit into the wound, “OW!”
“We are only trying to help, Doctor McKay.”
Visibly shaken, Rodney’s eyes saddened as he drunkenly pushed her hand away, still a few cards shy of a full deck. Pulling up his knees, he rested his throbbing head there and said in a quiet voice, “Tired...wanna go home.”
Sheppard’s jaw clenched as he looked at Teyla and Ford. “See if you can get him to lie down, I’m going to talk to Pojan.”
Pojan was in the field talking with several of his men when John approached. “Look, I’ve had about enough of this. It’s time to end this before he really gets hurt.”
“I am sorry Major Sheppard, but you yourself consented to the conditions. He still has two more days.”
“And what if he doesn’t make it through today?” John said, angrily.
The old man raised an eyebrow, “You still have such little faith him?”
Taken aback, Sheppard said defensively, “It’s not that. I just don’t like seeing him hurt. There’s no point in this. He’s a scientist damn it, not a soldier.”
“Perhaps, but that does not negate our traditions. I have to admit that your team intrigues me, Major. Your Doctor McKay is a very interesting individual. You claim he is a liability to your team and yet he has performed our tests within a satisfactory range. He is also the only person that has been able to block us from reading his thoughts.”
“I thought you read his mind just like the rest of us.”
“Ah, well that was the first day. Since then he has managed to construct some sort of mental barrier against us. Only when his defenses are down are we able to see into his mind.”
Sheppard smirked, “Good for him.” Crossing his arms over his chest he demanded, “Let him go.”
Shaking his head, Pojan remained adamant, “I cannot. There are still issues that need to be resolved.”
“So you just use him, let him take a beating to fulfill some warped desire by your people to make everyone live up to your standards.”
“It is much more than that, Major.”
“Well you know what? I’m not getting it!” exclaimed Sheppard.
Pojan’s men stepped closer at the Major’s shout, and the old man raised his hand to them as he spoke calmly, “I suggest you return to Doctor McKay. He has two hours and then we will begin again.”
John glared at him. “What if he doesn’t want to play your sick game anymore?”
Confident, Pojan answered, “He will.” Turning his back, he walked away, leaving John no choice but to return to his teammates.
*******************
Rodney was leaning back against the tree with his eyes closed, trying hard to ignore his teammates as they paced nervously around him. Wrapping an arm around his aching ribs, he shifted his weight and got his feet under him. Teyla and Ford silently helped him up. He thanked them with a sheepish nod. Looking out into the field, Rodney dropped his head, no longer able to hide his exhaustion or weariness. He wore it like a coat that was too suddenly too heavy to bear. Glancing up at his teammates, all he saw was pity in their eyes and felt the heat rise in his face, embarrassed by their reaction to his weakness. Turning his back on them, he squared his shoulders and started out to the field.
Ford rushed after him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around before he’d taken two steps. “Wait. You said earlier you had a choice of weapons, right?’
McKay frowned, “There wasn’t much of a choice. It was more a like the lesser of two evils.”
Impatient, Major Sheppard asked, “What are you getting at, Ford?”
Pointing at Teyla, Ford suggested enthusiastically, “Give him your sticks. Let him use those.” He added with his boyish grin, “They did say he had a choice.”
Teyla was nodding, already handing her weapons to Rodney. “The worst they will say is no. At least this way you will be familiar with the weapon.”
“Come on, Doc. Take ‘em. You can kick ass with ‘em,” Ford smiled as he encouraged McKay.
Sheppard was growing more agitated the closer McKay’s time came to fight again. Not knowing he’d been training with Teyla, he said apprehensively, “Look, you can just refuse. What’s the worst they’ll do?”
Shaking his head, Rodney took the offered sticks and looked John right in the eye, “They’ll kill you.” He walked away from his stunned and speechless teammates.
Entering the ring, the warrior eyed his choice of weapons curiously then looked at Pojan for direction. Pojan nodded and the man shrugged his shoulders, taking up a defensive stance against his opponent. Rodney felt much more at ease with the sticks in his hands than he had the pugil-stick and that confidence showed in his posture. He blocked several hits and even managed to strike offensively a few times.
From a distance Sheppard watched the exchange and asked out loud without thinking, “Where the hell did he learn that?”
Teyla said proudly, “I have been working with him.”
“He’s…uh…um…not bad,” said John, astonished.
“He practices, Major,” replied Teyla with amusement.
Sheppard answered indignantly, “I practice!”
“Doctor McKay has been practicing since his surgery. He has been very dedicated.”
Sheppard frowned, his unease with being left out of the loop regarding McKay was unsettling. “Why didn’t he ever say anything to me? I mean…he’s gone to all this trouble to work out and he didn’t say a word.”
Ford continued to watch McKay, his body unconsciously moving in time with the fighters, “He made me promise not to say anything.”
Glancing towards Teyla, she too nodded, “He did not wish for you to know.”
The hurt that came with her statement surprised him. At one time he would have known everything McKay was up to. At one time he would have been the one McKay came to for help. At one time he was the one spending free time with his best friend. At one time he didn’t hate himself for being such an ass about his best friend’s sexual preference. It occurred to him as he watched Rodney duck and dodge his opponent, giving as good as he got, that Rodney could still surprise him.
He was startled from his thoughts when Rodney went down hard. Without thinking he yelled across the field, “Get up, McKay! Don’t give up!”
Rodney scrambled to his feet and barely deflected another blow to his head. He was knocked down again a few minutes later and slowly got to his hands and knees as his opponent approached for the final strike. Sheppard was about to yell when Rodney’s hand shot up, stick in hand and struck the man as hard as he could between the legs. The man folded in on himself and crumbled to the ground moaning. Rodney shakily got to his feet, and stood triumphant over the warrior. Pojan and several of the other warriors bowed their heads as Rodney staggered off the field to rest between rounds.
His teammates watched him leave, a lot worse for wear than when the day started. Ford turned to the others and asked tentatively, “You think he was serious?”
“About what?” Sheppard asked absently, his eyes trained on McKay’s retreating form.
“Them killing us if he didn’t do what they wanted.”
The thought of McKay being under such pressure to perform was disturbing. Four days of watching him toil in the hot sun under the pretext of making him a better warrior was one thing. To find out he was doing it to save their lives was humbling.
The day wore on for Rodney, with each round becoming progressively harder to win. By the third triumph, he was holding his ribs tightly against the throbbing pain, wondering how he could possibly make it through tomorrow feeling as badly as he did. Entering the bath, he stripped away the sweat soaked clothes that clung to him, wincing as he pulled his shirt over his head. With a shaky hand, his fingers gently prodded the heavy bruising on his torso. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat stiffly, breaking out in a sweat at the tenderness along his ribs. None felt broken and he could still breathe, but the soreness would only worsen with the dawn. For the first time since arriving on this stinking, maladjusted planet, Rodney wasn’t so sure he was going to make it through another day.
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