Compass ~ SGA (McShep)
Title: Compass
Author: icantfollow
Rating: G
Summary: No matter what direction he follows, Rodney will always find his way home.
i. North
There's a coldness about Elizabeth Weir. She reminds Rodney of his time in Russia, and the isolation. She carries a tremendous burden, and has no one to help lighten the load - or she won't let anyone else shoulder the responsibility, he's not sure. She leads them, and they follow; she is their guiding star.
She keeps herself so alone, and Rodney doesn't know how to reach her, feeling as if all the light years of their galaxy are between them. Sometimes he thinks she speaks another language of Diplomat just to bother him. There is a deep respect between them, even affection, but neither of them knows how to breach the void to friendship.
Still, when Rodney thinks of his time in Russia, and the snow and ice, he remembers it with fondness because that was a period in his life of great scientific discovery. His genius was sharpened and tested by the separation from his (to use the term loosely) peers.
So Rodney keeps watch over Elizabeth, gently guiding her toward sharpening her own genius, ready with a shovel if it looks like she's going to be buried in her own avalanche.
ii. East
There's an incredible grace about Teyla Emmagan - even when she's kicking ass - that Rodney, all flailing limbs and clumsiness, deeply envies.
She is like the wind; she can be sharp and strong, or gentle and cool. There are times when she is so alien and intangible, that Rodney wonders how she can understand them at all. She makes her mark on their world, offering power, then retreating, invisible, to her own world.
Rodney thinks any man who doesn't love Teyla is mad.
When she's a tornado she frightens everyone else, except Rodney. When she's a breeze he marvels at her serenity. She offers her soft touch when he's in need of comfort, but doesn't press him, or try to cage him in his feelings. She is spirit and magic and the peace of the rising sun.
He doesn't pretend to understand Teyla anymore than he understands the wind (which is to say he knows the mechanics of it, but not which way it's going to blow), but he knows he feels better whenever she's around - and he doesn't have to see her to know she's there.
iii. South
There's a warmth about Carson Beckett, despite his affinity for pain. A feeling of home, even though Rodney's never been to Scotland and doesn't want to go even if he could.
It might be that he's reassuringly naive, or as Carson likes to put it, "simply uncomplicated". Unlike many members of the Atlantis expedition, he has no ghosts, and Rodney appreciates the simplicity of his emotions. When he's scared, he's scared. When he's happy, he's happy. When he's confused, he's confused. Carson doesn't need to wear a mask, and Rodney, who often tries to hide his feelings (though not his thoughts), admires that - though, of course, he'd never say so.
Unfortunately, Carson is always surrounded by misery. He does his best to light the way, to play the itinerant healer and fix everyone's wounds, but he's simply overcome by the suffering that encompasses him. Carson is there when they've gone as deep as they can go; Carson's is often times the last face they see. He lives through it all, and repairs what he can without thought of consequence.
Though he calls medicine 'voodoo,' and mocks the man's fear of technology, Rodney knows that if it wasn't for that cheerful Scottish brogue, the one that takes in all their pain and discomfort like a vacuum, they wouldn't stand a chance.
iv. West
There's a startling complexity about Ronon Dex. For all that he refers to the Satedan as a caveman or barbarian, now and again Rodney catches a strange look in Ronon's eye and understands there's so much bubbling beneath the surface that they can't begin to understand.
He is the way of the warrior, struggling for survival wherever he goes; changing, adapting, but never losing the inner core of who he is. Behind the grunts and the knives and the brute strength and the bad table manners, there's a man there with knowledge that Rodney would eat lemons to have.
Ronon doesn't show fear, but it doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. It means he controls it - he doesn't let it control him. Rodney, unused to learning from others, watches him at a distance, trying to figure out just how he does it. He's suffered so deeply, and been hunted like an animal, and yet Rodney can see the humanity shining like a beacon, drawing people to him. He doesn't encourage it, but neither does he reject it.
They don't talk; they have nothing to say to one another, but Rodney thinks they understand each other perfectly. Ronon fights. Rodney thinks. There's respect.
Why sully it with words?
v. Center
There's a way about John Sheppard.
Rodney's lived all over the world, and in another galaxy, and he's never really had a place he called home, because other than a cat, there was no one to come home to. It didn't matter if he fell asleep at his lab because no one would come looking. He'd wake with a crick in his neck and trudge back to his apartment, feed the cat, and repeat the cycle.
But in Atlantis, John comes looking for him if he stays too late in the lab, or if he's up early to get a cup of coffee in the mess, or if he gets captured by some primitive natives on the Planet of the Week.
He had to travel to another galaxy to find the center of his universe. It was worth the trip.
Rodney looks to his friends to guide him home, and they always do.
Author: icantfollow
Rating: G
Summary: No matter what direction he follows, Rodney will always find his way home.
i. North
There's a coldness about Elizabeth Weir. She reminds Rodney of his time in Russia, and the isolation. She carries a tremendous burden, and has no one to help lighten the load - or she won't let anyone else shoulder the responsibility, he's not sure. She leads them, and they follow; she is their guiding star.
She keeps herself so alone, and Rodney doesn't know how to reach her, feeling as if all the light years of their galaxy are between them. Sometimes he thinks she speaks another language of Diplomat just to bother him. There is a deep respect between them, even affection, but neither of them knows how to breach the void to friendship.
Still, when Rodney thinks of his time in Russia, and the snow and ice, he remembers it with fondness because that was a period in his life of great scientific discovery. His genius was sharpened and tested by the separation from his (to use the term loosely) peers.
So Rodney keeps watch over Elizabeth, gently guiding her toward sharpening her own genius, ready with a shovel if it looks like she's going to be buried in her own avalanche.
ii. East
There's an incredible grace about Teyla Emmagan - even when she's kicking ass - that Rodney, all flailing limbs and clumsiness, deeply envies.
She is like the wind; she can be sharp and strong, or gentle and cool. There are times when she is so alien and intangible, that Rodney wonders how she can understand them at all. She makes her mark on their world, offering power, then retreating, invisible, to her own world.
Rodney thinks any man who doesn't love Teyla is mad.
When she's a tornado she frightens everyone else, except Rodney. When she's a breeze he marvels at her serenity. She offers her soft touch when he's in need of comfort, but doesn't press him, or try to cage him in his feelings. She is spirit and magic and the peace of the rising sun.
He doesn't pretend to understand Teyla anymore than he understands the wind (which is to say he knows the mechanics of it, but not which way it's going to blow), but he knows he feels better whenever she's around - and he doesn't have to see her to know she's there.
iii. South
There's a warmth about Carson Beckett, despite his affinity for pain. A feeling of home, even though Rodney's never been to Scotland and doesn't want to go even if he could.
It might be that he's reassuringly naive, or as Carson likes to put it, "simply uncomplicated". Unlike many members of the Atlantis expedition, he has no ghosts, and Rodney appreciates the simplicity of his emotions. When he's scared, he's scared. When he's happy, he's happy. When he's confused, he's confused. Carson doesn't need to wear a mask, and Rodney, who often tries to hide his feelings (though not his thoughts), admires that - though, of course, he'd never say so.
Unfortunately, Carson is always surrounded by misery. He does his best to light the way, to play the itinerant healer and fix everyone's wounds, but he's simply overcome by the suffering that encompasses him. Carson is there when they've gone as deep as they can go; Carson's is often times the last face they see. He lives through it all, and repairs what he can without thought of consequence.
Though he calls medicine 'voodoo,' and mocks the man's fear of technology, Rodney knows that if it wasn't for that cheerful Scottish brogue, the one that takes in all their pain and discomfort like a vacuum, they wouldn't stand a chance.
iv. West
There's a startling complexity about Ronon Dex. For all that he refers to the Satedan as a caveman or barbarian, now and again Rodney catches a strange look in Ronon's eye and understands there's so much bubbling beneath the surface that they can't begin to understand.
He is the way of the warrior, struggling for survival wherever he goes; changing, adapting, but never losing the inner core of who he is. Behind the grunts and the knives and the brute strength and the bad table manners, there's a man there with knowledge that Rodney would eat lemons to have.
Ronon doesn't show fear, but it doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. It means he controls it - he doesn't let it control him. Rodney, unused to learning from others, watches him at a distance, trying to figure out just how he does it. He's suffered so deeply, and been hunted like an animal, and yet Rodney can see the humanity shining like a beacon, drawing people to him. He doesn't encourage it, but neither does he reject it.
They don't talk; they have nothing to say to one another, but Rodney thinks they understand each other perfectly. Ronon fights. Rodney thinks. There's respect.
Why sully it with words?
v. Center
There's a way about John Sheppard.
Rodney's lived all over the world, and in another galaxy, and he's never really had a place he called home, because other than a cat, there was no one to come home to. It didn't matter if he fell asleep at his lab because no one would come looking. He'd wake with a crick in his neck and trudge back to his apartment, feed the cat, and repeat the cycle.
But in Atlantis, John comes looking for him if he stays too late in the lab, or if he's up early to get a cup of coffee in the mess, or if he gets captured by some primitive natives on the Planet of the Week.
He had to travel to another galaxy to find the center of his universe. It was worth the trip.
Rodney looks to his friends to guide him home, and they always do.