Chase the Sun Chapter 8
Chase the Sun
Burningchaos
Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG1 Crossover
Past Sheppard/McKay, McKay/Mitchell
Mature
Warnings: Character death, severe description of depression.
Disclaimer: Neither Stargate nor Stargate Atlantis belong to me. I am making no money.
My muse likes me again and if the kids/work schedule is kind I should still make the end of the month for finishing this off. *smooch* You all rock for sticking it out this long. I love you!
Catch up
Banner by from_the_corner
Rodney watched the car drive past; he counted them, one pair of lights after the other, all zipping somewhere with a purpose, a meaning and all he had was the desire to go home. That desire tasted like hope. Or like he thought hope would if it were a tangible thing.
Cameron had questions, how could he not? Rodney’s life was taking a total one-eighty and he wasn’t even sure he could answer what was coming his way. All he knew was that he was ready to try living again.
He didn’t know if he was ready for the drama/trauma of trying to see everybody yet, and he fully intended to hide out in Cameron’s house for a day or two or month until he was ready but he needed to try.
There was no going back, not now. He remembered what it was like to have someone; to trust them, to be apart of their lives and he missed it. And really that was what home was. Not Atlantis, not the SGC, and not John. Not anymore. It wasn’t so much a place as it was a state of being.
“So…” Cameron’s voice drawled slowly through the silence. He’d waited patiently. Oh, so fucking patiently for Rodney to say fucking anything but he hadn’t. No, he’d just climbed in the car and settled in for the ride and not talking. He searched for the right approach. “You didn’t call.”
“I know.” Rodney didn’t feel like giving an inch yet. How could he when he still had no answers and a raw hole inside of him the size of a galaxy?
“You checked your voice mail though?” The pissy feeling was coming back with a vengeance, and Cameron knew it was leaking through but he didn’t give a fuck. He’d been worried.
“About ten minutes before you pulled up,” Rodney waved his hand, “Okay, more like twenty but you were already on the way and had issued multiple death threats; so I figured what was the point of calling and packed.”
Cameron felt his mind stutter and go red. He didn’t say a word as he pulled over and inched to a halt. He unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and climbed out of the car. Rodney watched him curiously, but silently and Cameron didn’t care to explain. He needed to get out the car before he strangled the errant scientist.
He paced back and forth in front of the car muttering to himself, playing out several slightly disturbing scenarios in his mind before muttering to God about how much he hated him and how he’d never, ever been bad enough to deserve this before climbing back into the driver’s seat. He took a deep breath, turned toward Rodney again and simple stated, “When you promise to call, fucking call. I thought you were dead or something. Okay?”
Rodney felt a twinge of guilt, “I can do that.”
Cameron nodded and started the car again. “Good.”
“Hey, we’re here.” Cameron was gently shaking him.
Rodney sat up, stretched as best as he could in the car and felt two vertebrae pop. He winced, looked around and saw a row of cookie cutter suburban houses dispersed in a slightly staggered manor, sitting entirely to close together for his tastes.
“It’s a rental.” Cameron quietly explained as he went around to the trunk. “The neighbors are good about mowing if I am gone and the landlord is retired SGC so he gets that I am gone a lot, so he doesn’t mind having the water and stuff included in the rent.”
“Huh,” That explained the total lack of personality the outside of the house had. But it was a house in the suburbs not a cabin by the lake so it was more like real life than a extended vacation so who was he to complain. Not that he wouldn’t, later after he’d had some sleep in a real bed.
He was exhausted despite having fallen asleep in the car. Emotional overload, too much stimulation, not enough caffeine or drugs either for that matter his body and mind were bruised. He wanted to sleep for a fucking week.
“Come on,” Cameron was suddenly next to him, bracing him so that he didn’t tilt with the rest of the world. Tall, strong and warm Rodney’s sleep rugged mind realized that Cameron was more than just an amazing friend. He mattered in a way no one had in a very long time. But it was a revelation that was to profound, too important for him to delve into in his state, especially since he could barely string two words together and his body felt as heavy as Atlantis.
Cameron struggled with his keys; Rodney wasn’t nearly as heavy as he should have been. Not for a man his height and that was what was making everything awkward. That and the way Rodney’s hand kept brushing innocently against his ass. It was distracting as hell and it made him feel like a pervert to boot.
Once the door was opened and kicked shut behind them he led Rodney down the hall toward his room. He hadn’t made up the bed in the guest room, and he wasn’t about to try when Rodney obviously need to be in bed. He would make up the room, sleep in it himself and move Rodney there tomorrow. Their weird three-legged race type shuffling made him happy he lived in a ranch style house.
Thankfully, his door was open. Sadly, his room was a mess but with careful maneuvering he’d managed to get them around most of it without tripping. His bed was unmade, but he’d hardly slept in them after changing them the day before. Besides it was a bed, it had pillows, sheets and blankets. In his condition, Rodney could hardly be picky.
He shifted Rodney on to the bed, laid him down, and pulled off his shoes and belt. He wasn’t comfortable undressing the other man, he could justify it all he wanted but he just couldn’t bring himself to. After covering him up, Cameron gave into impulse and brushed his lips over Rodney’s forehead than scrambled out of the room.
Rodney was in his house. In his bed. Yeah, he was fucked.