Fic: Not Quite on the Same Page (PG)
Title: Not Quite on the Same Page
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Swearing, a bit.
Spoilers: For the last two stories below and a slight reference to McKay and Mrs. Miller. Pretty sure that's all. EDIT: And Epiphany. Woops.
Notes: This is the third part of what frighteningly enough became a series. It would be a wise decision to read Not Your Average Imaginary Friend and One Hell of A Coincedence
===
The device was about the size of a tennis ball and ugly as sin. One side was smooth, rounded and a sea green color. The other was bumpy and malformed, attached to the smooth side unevenly. It was also the most disgustingly pale shade of brown John had ever seen. It looked like someone had superglued two entirely different things together and had then taken a hammer to them to make sure they *stayed* together.
"I don't want to touch it." he said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his feet apart in a decisive pose.
Rodney stared back at him, unimpressed. "And why is that, pray tell?"
John uncrossed his arms enough to wave at the...thing. "Look at it! There is no way the Ancients made that."
"Because it's ugly." the scientist stated dryly.
He was not getting into that argument with him. "You have the gene, you touch it."
"I have," Rodney ground out, sitting back in his chair. "And while I would love to sit around for a week wooing it into actually doing something, it's so much easier to just use you."
"Did you just admit to pimping me out to alien technology?" he frowned, a little off-balance.
There was the eye-roll, as though John was the most difficult person alive and it was Rodney's self-sacrificing way to suffer through it. "Just touch it already."
"No!" John nearly shouted. "It's not right, Rodney. You've always listened to my hunches before."
"Yes, because it was made in genuine concern and not because it looked 'icky.'"
"I never said icky."
Rodney closed his eyes with a sigh and John wondered what equations he was doing in his head to help him resist the urge to throttle him right there. John usually went through the wiring system on the Jumpers or listed gate addresses.
"I mean it. I don't like it." he insisted.
"Fine, fine," Rodney waved a hand at John, dismissing him. "Go. I'll work on it on my own. With our luck, if we let this go it'll turn out to be something infinitely useful."
That had been the last John had heard about it, and honestly, he'd let it slip from his mind. Rodney, of course, was not one to let an opportunity pass him by.
===
He let his legs take him where he needed to go, rehearsing in his mind how he was going to tell Rodney the truth. Okay, the truth was a bad word, it implied lying. John had never lied to Rodney; he'd been careful about that. The time-travel idea hadn't been sold to him until they'd found the old Elizabeth, but once it had he realized that Rodney would have to go back sometime. He wasn't sure how, though, and the thought unsettled him. The only technology capable of travel through time had been the Puddlejumper the other Elizabeth had told them about, but scouring the bay had produced nothing.
John remembered that his Rodney hadn't known how he'd ended up in a kindergarten classroom, saying that that must have been when John thought him up. He knew now that Rodney was anything but a figment of his imagination, but it certainly made figuring this out harder.
What would he do, anyway? He couldn't *stop* Rodney from going back in time; he was the only reason he'd decided to join the Air Force in the first place. He loved flying, sure, but he hadn't known that when he was *five.*
The last story Rodney had told him when he was younger had been about an alternate reality and an impostor McKay that had come to Atlantis to save his own, and while he hadn't been evil, he was annoying and smiled far more than was good for him. John had met Rod, and okay, he smiled a lot, but he hadn't really been that annoying. What pained him was that he hadn't been able to find an alternative to using their ZPM. He'd known it was going to be depleted, but he couldn't exactly deny the other McKay the chance to return home.
What all that meant was that Rodney had to be going back *soon* and while it might screw things up, he wanted to tell the scientist. He'd throw his friend back in time himself if it meant keeping everything intact, but he'd waited almost three years for Rodney and himself to be on the same page, no advantages over the other, and this was it. It gave him a nervous thrill to know that from here on out he was moving blindly forward.
John strode through the lab door and over to the table Rodney was hunched over. "Rodney, hey, do you have a minute?"
"I'm on the brink of discovery, Colonel," the scientist replied distractedly. "Can't it wait?"
John stopped just behind the chair and grimaced slightly. "It's kind of important."
"How important is 'kind of' important?"
"I *need* to *tell* you something." he ground out, gritting his teeth to keep his voice at a normal volume.
Rodney's hands paused in their work for a brief moment before continuing. "Tell me, then."
John's anger deflated. How could he do this if the other man wouldn't even look at him? "Could you at least put whatever it is you're working on away first?"
"I'm perfectly capable of working and listening at the same time, thank you." the scientist explained casually.
"But-! Fine," he sighed. Now or never, he told himself, trying to keep his nerve. "When I was in kindergarten--"
"Hang on," Rodney interrupted, causing John to trip over his next words. He glanced at him over his shoulder. "Is this some embarrassing childhood story that you're going to tell me so I don't feel as bad about all of the things my sister told you?"
"What?" John blinked, then shook his head. "No!"
"Liar," he said in an amused sort of tone. He turned halfway and held out the device he was working on. "Hold this for a second."
John took it, not looking away from Rodney's face. At least he was looking in the right direction now. "Look, when I was in kindergarten, my family moved in the middle of the school year. I hated it. It was freezing and gray all the time and everyone kept saying my accent was funny. My first day at school the other kids ditched me during recess and no one talked to me at lunchtime."
He stopped talking as Rodney grabbed the device, which had started to glow, back from him and frowned at it.
"Rodney!" he yelled, knowing he had lost his friend's attention.
"Just a second," Rodney held up a hand, turning back to the table. "It's been gathering energy constantly since I managed to turn it on last week. Just very small amounts, probably from the other equipment that was around it. It left the ZPM alone so I wasn't worried, but now it.."
He trailed off, fingers clicking furiously at the keyboard. In front of him the device glowed a little brighter and John's eyes narrowed. "Is that...that's the one I didn't want to touch, isn't it? McKay!"
"You took it!" Rodney shot back without looking over.
"You knew I wasn't paying attention!"
"Not my fault. Okay, it's definitely activated and all that energy is being
released, but where?"
John stepped forward. "I'm turning it off."
"What? No!" he protested, smacking the reaching hand away. "None of the systems are being affected and the readings aren't indicating anything dangerous. Just wait a minute."
The device only got brighter as they waited and a low, rumbling hum started up. It grew louder and the sound fluctuated in tone irregularly like a badly tuned piano.
"That's it." John stated angrily, his skin crawling, and reached over again. This time Rodney grabbed up the device before John could touch it and got to his feet. The hum pitched very high and John watched Rodney flicker once, out and then back in sight. The device's whine had skipped as well, and finally it got lower and softer until it dimmed and shut off. John stood tense and ready, eyes going from the device to the scientist and back, waiting for...something.
Rodney just stood there, his own eyes unfocused, then blinked rapidly and fixed his gaze on John, expression surprised. "Oh," he breathed, fingers clenching and unclenching around the dormant device. "It worked. Good, that's..."
His knees buckled and John leapt forward, arms going around his friend's middle to keep him up. "Rodney? Buddy, you okay?" he asked slowly, sagging to the floor under the weight as he realized Rodney had passed out. He keyed his comm and barked urgently for Carson. "We need a stretcher to McKay's lab. One of the devices did something and knocked him unconscious."
"We're on our way, Colonel." Beckett replied and cut the connection.
John leaned back against the table leg, Rodney pulled to his side. He had a hand on his arm to steady him and frowned as his fingers slid over fabric and onto bare skin. He yanked at the shirtsleeve gently, running his finger along the perimeter of the wide hole there. Looking down he saw two more holes in the knees of Rodney's pants and the shoes on his feet were definitely not the ones he'd been wearing a few minutes ago.
He didn't have longer to think on it because Carson's team was there and they took Rodney from him, loading him onto the gurney and wheeling him to the infirmary. John was right on their heels, answering Carson's questions and answering them again for Elizabeth when she met them on the way.
"I don't *know,*" he hissed to Elizabeth as they waited on the far side of the infirmary, keeping Rodney in sight. "All he did was touch it and then he did this...flickering thing. He was fine for about half a minute, then he just passed out."
She nodded. "I've given orders for Radek to keep everyone away from that lab, just in case. After we figure out what it did to Rodney we'll decide what to do with it."
"We can toss it off the pier for all I care." John grumbled, sitting back in his chair.
Ronon and Teyla joined them not long after that and they all kept watch over their friend, not moving even after Carson told them that it seemed as though Rodney had merely passed out from strain and exhaustion. John brought up the change in his clothing and what the scientist had said, but they wouldn't know what happened for sure until Rodney woke up.
===
It had been three days and Rodney wouldn't discuss what had happened to him with anyone but Heightmeyer, as she wasn't be allowed to tell. It annoyed John to no end and after the third time he had cornered her, she had sicced Elizabeth on him.
"Dr. Heightmeyer assures me that this wont affect Rodney's work," she stated, giving him a look that said 'I know you're worried but you're being a complete asshole. Don't make me take you down.' He got that look a lot. "And unless I see otherwise I'm not going to pressure him about it. He'll tell us when he's ready."
He'd nodded, because what else could he say? He wasn't even sure if this was the right event. Maybe something else had happened to Rodney. He wouldn't know unless Rodney *told* him.
This whole living it for the first time thing? Striding blindly forward? Sucked.
===
John had never had a lot of patience. It only ever looked like he did because the people around him had even less. The waiting for Rodney to come to him and bare his soul deal was taking too long, so John took matters into his own hands. He was worried, Rodney was his teammate and best friend; he'd understand a lot better than Heightmeyer would. He'd gotten stuck in that time-dilation field for six months ago, hadn't he? He'd come back to an Atlantis that had barely moved while he was gone. Unfortunately, his idea for a group therapy had been shot down by
Heightmeyer. She was on to him.
"Come on," he whispered sweetly to the console in front of him, feeling a little foolish. How Rodney and Zelenka did it--in front of people, no less--without dying of embarrassment he didn't know. "I just need a little help here. It's very important I hear what's going on in that room. You want to help me, don't you?"
He tried to sound as sincere as possible. The lab was empty and John had locked the door to make sure no one bothered him. Only Rodney took care of the communications system anyway and he wasn't going to be coming by any time soon.
He ran his hands over the console, feeling more than a hint of perverseness for *feeling the city up* but this was important and really, no different from touching the Ancient devices or opening doors. Really. The small speaker in front of him crackled for a moment as it turned on.
"-o think?" Rodney's exasperated voice came through loud and clear and John grinned in triumph, giving the speaker and console a proud pat. "Four years of my life I'll never get back, wasted by being the plaything of a four-year-old!"
John's stomach dropped. "Five and a half." he murmured defensively, though there was no firmness behind it.
"It was miserable! I had to sneak food, steal clothes and wash them when no one was home! We had to rush through bathing before his mother made him get out! And do you know how small the bed was?!"
"Why did you share a bed?" Heightmeyer asked in that annoying casual tone.
"Because," Rodney bit out. "He was afraid the *monsters* would *eat* me."
John felt his face flush. What five-year-old didn't have monsters under his bed?
"That's a common fear for a young child to have." Heightmeyer explained.
"It's a stupid fear. Children are just so.." Rodney's voice lost some of its heat, turning tired. "So stupid. All they ever want to do is play. They don't think about anyth--"
His hand slammed on top of the box, mentally screaming OFF at it before he could even realize what he was doing. Of course, John thought. He had never thought of how Rodney would see those years. It had never occurred to him that he was worrying about the fate of the people on Atlantis without him. Four years working desperately to get home, constantly being distracted by a child's pleas to play, to read to him, to help him with his homework. He hadn't been a friend, he'd been a nuisance.
John stood slowly, stomach lurching. It hadn't been a total waste, had it? Rodney was the reason he'd joined the Air Force. Without him he'd have never been in Antarctica to sit in the chair that would help them get to Atlantis. Once they'd gotten here, without him a lot of the technology wouldn't have worked as easily, they wouldn't have even survived the first time around without the other John Sheppard to pilot the time-travelling Puddlejumper.
He wouldn't have woken the Wraith.
No, they wouldn't have come so far in defeating the Wraith. Being here was a good
thing; wars weren't won in a day and without a hell of a lot of casualties. Teyla had assured him of that, that in spite of everything she was glad to finally be able to make a difference.
Rodney didn't really think it was that bad. They'd had fun, right? Rodney'd taught him math and he'd gotten all the chocolate John's allowance could get. They'd played in the summer and when it got cold he'd always put his share of the mini-marshmallows into Rodney's mug of hot chocolate. They'd been friends. Best friends.
John left the lab and decided to run until he was too tired to think. Ronon had joined him and outlasted him, of course, giving a short nod that was his show of understanding. He figured that John was getting frustrated over Rodney's unwillingness to confide in them, and he had been. He'd rather be pissed and oblivious now though. With a nod of his own he slouched off to his room, collapsing on the bed and falling asleep without bothering to change.
===
The rest of the week consisted of John throwing two hissy fits: one resulting in the destruction of his own room and the other bringing about his first real shouting match with Teyla and ended in bruises and bloody noses with Ronon holding them apart and then dragging them to Beckett. Rodney had come in and shouted at them for being ten-year-olds and to next time fight without any sticks in reach. He'd also threatened to send them to couples therapy and John had made a scathing comment about Rodney's own openness from where he was curled up on one of the beds with an ice pack pressed to his inner thigh.
"So this is all my fault, of course it is," Rodney had muttered, rolling his eyes. "I've told you: I was not tortured, I was not hurt, starved, imprisoned, or in danger of any kind. I was practically on vacation."
His berating tone just made John huff and roll--carefully--to his other side.
"Very mature, Colonel."
"Perhaps if you told us what did happen," Teyla pointed out, her voice a little off from the cloth pressed to her nose. "Then it would put our minds at rest."
"Nothing happened," Rodney insisted. "It doesn't matter."
"If it didn't matter then there's no reason to keep it a secret." Ronon added, and John gave a small 'ha!' without looking over.
"There's no reason to tell!"
"John is worried, and your defensiveness lately has put me on edge as well." Teyla stated firmly.
There was a brief pause in the conversation, probably with Rodney glaring and Teyla and Ronon looking back at him with those unamused expressions...well, Ronon might be amused. Finally, he heard Rodney let out an annoyed breath. "I have work to do. Stop trying to kill each other; Elizabeth will never let us go offworld next week if you keep this up." And then he was gone and John was no closer to figuring things out, only now he was bruised and aching and Carson wouldn't give him anything more than aspirin.
===
After that, Rodney stopped avoiding them at meal times and being so distractedly formal at meetings. He still didn't admit what had happened to him and John had to hide his annoyance at the fact. The only reassurance was that it didn't seem to affect his friendship with John, which was honestly confusing as he had been the source of Rodney's four years of misery. He didn't know what he'd expected in regard to that, really. He'd felt like their friendship had been rejected, but maybe Rodney just couldn't see him as that eight-year-old.
He was making his fourth loop of the science labs, counting down the minutes until he could drag Rodney off to lunch, when the doors to his friend's lab slid open and said friend was standing there with an annoyed look.
"Colonel, if you don't have anything useful to do then at least come in and bug me instead of going by my door every five minutes." he demanded, turning without
waiting for an answer and going back to his table.
John followed, pulling over a chair to the end of the lab table to sit. A printed piece of paper and a pencil were slapped down in front of him and he gave Rodney a questioning look.
"I've got a lot to do and I don't want you interrupting," Rodney explained,
pointing to the paper. "Find the mistakes. Quietly."
Now that sounded familiar. They'd done this, years ago when he was still a kid. Whenever Rodney had needed a day off from 'making sure John didn't foolishly break his neck' he would sit John at his desk and give him sheet after sheet of math problems. However hard they were usually told you how long Rodney wanted to be left alone.
Of course, after he'd told Rodney about the whole MENSA thing there had been a
solid five days where the scientist had all but chained him to the tables and made him do tests and proofs and anything else he had on hand. It had been fun, though he'd complained the whole time. He never told Rodney that to find out just how smart he was he only needed to ask.
"What?" John leaned back in his chair, fixing a rather pathetic look on his face. He couldn't let on that he enjoyed the little challenges Rodney gave him, after all. "We've got fifteen minutes, let's just head down to the mess early."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "I just said that I'm busy and no one here apparently knows how to double-check their work," he explained. "Everyone else I usually make do this just gave me excuses and wouldn't come in. That leaves you."
"I wouldn't have come in either if I'd known you were going to make me do this." John grumbled, sitting down and picking up the pen.
"We can't let that intelligence of yours go to waste," the other man said cheerily, going over to his desk. "I'm sure plenty of people worked very hard to sharpen that mind when you were younger. You shouldn't disappoint them."
John looked up, but Rodney was already sitting, his back to him. Eyes narrowed, he leaned back in his seat. "Actually, I was mostly self-taught."
He watched Rodney's back straighten and there was a pause before he turned his chair slightly. "Really?" he asked, voice caught in that higher pitch he got when he was unsure or put offguard. "You were?"
"Uh-huh. The school gave me tutors but they were useless," he nodded. "They didn't understand my brilliance."
"School tutors *are* useless," Rodney said with a snort. "It's a wonder you're at the level you are now."
"Like I said, self-taught," John drawled, slowly turning back to his paper. He could feel Rodney's gaze boring into him. "Mostly."
===
"All right," Rodney said suddenly on their first mission after the incident. Ronon and Teyla were walking ahead of them, probably not out of earshot, but far enough it felt like just the two of them. "Do you still want to know what happened to me?"
John looked over, eyes wide with surprise. "Yes." he blurted before the scientist could change his mind.
The other man nodded, a grave expression on his face. When he spoke it was slow, as though he was considering how he worded it. "I was transported away and stuck in a time-dilation field for four years. I found myself trapped in a small community with people that thought my sudden appearance meant that I was their savior from a terrorizing enemy. I was treated as an honored guest and was seduced by their leader, a very pretty blond with a hidden agenda to keep me as her love slave forever. However, I defeated their enemy, saved them all, and while it *pained* me to leave her there I knew I still had my duty to Atlantis, whatever had become of it. And the whole love slave thing was just a little creepy."
John stopped walking halfway through and Rodney was already a few paces ahead by the time he was finished. The other man stopped as well and turned, a slight smile on his face. "No, wait, that was you, wasn't it?"
"Damn it, McKay!" he yelled, hurrying to catch up as Rodney had started moving again. The scientist had a self-satisfied grin on his face and was humming to himself. "Fine, right, you got me. Good job, though you really suck at storytelling. She was a brunette and it was six months."
"I have it on good authority that I'm an excellent storyteller, Colonel, and I note you didn't object to the bit about the love slave," Rodney replied. "Remind me, just how long did it take for you to actually tell me everything that happened to you in there?"
"A month." John muttered, bumping Rodney's shoulder lightly as he drew even with him.
Rodney bumped back. "Yes, and that was only because I got you drunk."
"So I have to get you drunk."
"No," the scientist said slowly. "Remember, you were very angry after you woke up."
"I wait, then."
"You wait. I will tell you, someday," Rodney promised, serious now. "There are just some...slight issues I need to work through first."
John nodded, not liking how that sounded. "All right. I'll be good."
He wasn't a patient person, but when he thought about it he *did* wait thirty years to find Rodney. He could wait a little longer for his sake. Not too long, though.
end
Notes2: Um, it wouldn't move after this. At all. I have another couple of pieces in my notebook that I may bring up as drabbles to seriously wrap this up, and I wanted to explain the scrapheap device that did this in more detail. So we'll see how that goes. I'm sorry Rodney was so stubborn, he never makes things easy for me.
Next: Here
Author: R. Tom Mato
Rating: PG
Warnings: Swearing, a bit.
Spoilers: For the last two stories below and a slight reference to McKay and Mrs. Miller. Pretty sure that's all. EDIT: And Epiphany. Woops.
Notes: This is the third part of what frighteningly enough became a series. It would be a wise decision to read Not Your Average Imaginary Friend and One Hell of A Coincedence
===
The device was about the size of a tennis ball and ugly as sin. One side was smooth, rounded and a sea green color. The other was bumpy and malformed, attached to the smooth side unevenly. It was also the most disgustingly pale shade of brown John had ever seen. It looked like someone had superglued two entirely different things together and had then taken a hammer to them to make sure they *stayed* together.
"I don't want to touch it." he said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his feet apart in a decisive pose.
Rodney stared back at him, unimpressed. "And why is that, pray tell?"
John uncrossed his arms enough to wave at the...thing. "Look at it! There is no way the Ancients made that."
"Because it's ugly." the scientist stated dryly.
He was not getting into that argument with him. "You have the gene, you touch it."
"I have," Rodney ground out, sitting back in his chair. "And while I would love to sit around for a week wooing it into actually doing something, it's so much easier to just use you."
"Did you just admit to pimping me out to alien technology?" he frowned, a little off-balance.
There was the eye-roll, as though John was the most difficult person alive and it was Rodney's self-sacrificing way to suffer through it. "Just touch it already."
"No!" John nearly shouted. "It's not right, Rodney. You've always listened to my hunches before."
"Yes, because it was made in genuine concern and not because it looked 'icky.'"
"I never said icky."
Rodney closed his eyes with a sigh and John wondered what equations he was doing in his head to help him resist the urge to throttle him right there. John usually went through the wiring system on the Jumpers or listed gate addresses.
"I mean it. I don't like it." he insisted.
"Fine, fine," Rodney waved a hand at John, dismissing him. "Go. I'll work on it on my own. With our luck, if we let this go it'll turn out to be something infinitely useful."
That had been the last John had heard about it, and honestly, he'd let it slip from his mind. Rodney, of course, was not one to let an opportunity pass him by.
===
He let his legs take him where he needed to go, rehearsing in his mind how he was going to tell Rodney the truth. Okay, the truth was a bad word, it implied lying. John had never lied to Rodney; he'd been careful about that. The time-travel idea hadn't been sold to him until they'd found the old Elizabeth, but once it had he realized that Rodney would have to go back sometime. He wasn't sure how, though, and the thought unsettled him. The only technology capable of travel through time had been the Puddlejumper the other Elizabeth had told them about, but scouring the bay had produced nothing.
John remembered that his Rodney hadn't known how he'd ended up in a kindergarten classroom, saying that that must have been when John thought him up. He knew now that Rodney was anything but a figment of his imagination, but it certainly made figuring this out harder.
What would he do, anyway? He couldn't *stop* Rodney from going back in time; he was the only reason he'd decided to join the Air Force in the first place. He loved flying, sure, but he hadn't known that when he was *five.*
The last story Rodney had told him when he was younger had been about an alternate reality and an impostor McKay that had come to Atlantis to save his own, and while he hadn't been evil, he was annoying and smiled far more than was good for him. John had met Rod, and okay, he smiled a lot, but he hadn't really been that annoying. What pained him was that he hadn't been able to find an alternative to using their ZPM. He'd known it was going to be depleted, but he couldn't exactly deny the other McKay the chance to return home.
What all that meant was that Rodney had to be going back *soon* and while it might screw things up, he wanted to tell the scientist. He'd throw his friend back in time himself if it meant keeping everything intact, but he'd waited almost three years for Rodney and himself to be on the same page, no advantages over the other, and this was it. It gave him a nervous thrill to know that from here on out he was moving blindly forward.
John strode through the lab door and over to the table Rodney was hunched over. "Rodney, hey, do you have a minute?"
"I'm on the brink of discovery, Colonel," the scientist replied distractedly. "Can't it wait?"
John stopped just behind the chair and grimaced slightly. "It's kind of important."
"How important is 'kind of' important?"
"I *need* to *tell* you something." he ground out, gritting his teeth to keep his voice at a normal volume.
Rodney's hands paused in their work for a brief moment before continuing. "Tell me, then."
John's anger deflated. How could he do this if the other man wouldn't even look at him? "Could you at least put whatever it is you're working on away first?"
"I'm perfectly capable of working and listening at the same time, thank you." the scientist explained casually.
"But-! Fine," he sighed. Now or never, he told himself, trying to keep his nerve. "When I was in kindergarten--"
"Hang on," Rodney interrupted, causing John to trip over his next words. He glanced at him over his shoulder. "Is this some embarrassing childhood story that you're going to tell me so I don't feel as bad about all of the things my sister told you?"
"What?" John blinked, then shook his head. "No!"
"Liar," he said in an amused sort of tone. He turned halfway and held out the device he was working on. "Hold this for a second."
John took it, not looking away from Rodney's face. At least he was looking in the right direction now. "Look, when I was in kindergarten, my family moved in the middle of the school year. I hated it. It was freezing and gray all the time and everyone kept saying my accent was funny. My first day at school the other kids ditched me during recess and no one talked to me at lunchtime."
He stopped talking as Rodney grabbed the device, which had started to glow, back from him and frowned at it.
"Rodney!" he yelled, knowing he had lost his friend's attention.
"Just a second," Rodney held up a hand, turning back to the table. "It's been gathering energy constantly since I managed to turn it on last week. Just very small amounts, probably from the other equipment that was around it. It left the ZPM alone so I wasn't worried, but now it.."
He trailed off, fingers clicking furiously at the keyboard. In front of him the device glowed a little brighter and John's eyes narrowed. "Is that...that's the one I didn't want to touch, isn't it? McKay!"
"You took it!" Rodney shot back without looking over.
"You knew I wasn't paying attention!"
"Not my fault. Okay, it's definitely activated and all that energy is being
released, but where?"
John stepped forward. "I'm turning it off."
"What? No!" he protested, smacking the reaching hand away. "None of the systems are being affected and the readings aren't indicating anything dangerous. Just wait a minute."
The device only got brighter as they waited and a low, rumbling hum started up. It grew louder and the sound fluctuated in tone irregularly like a badly tuned piano.
"That's it." John stated angrily, his skin crawling, and reached over again. This time Rodney grabbed up the device before John could touch it and got to his feet. The hum pitched very high and John watched Rodney flicker once, out and then back in sight. The device's whine had skipped as well, and finally it got lower and softer until it dimmed and shut off. John stood tense and ready, eyes going from the device to the scientist and back, waiting for...something.
Rodney just stood there, his own eyes unfocused, then blinked rapidly and fixed his gaze on John, expression surprised. "Oh," he breathed, fingers clenching and unclenching around the dormant device. "It worked. Good, that's..."
His knees buckled and John leapt forward, arms going around his friend's middle to keep him up. "Rodney? Buddy, you okay?" he asked slowly, sagging to the floor under the weight as he realized Rodney had passed out. He keyed his comm and barked urgently for Carson. "We need a stretcher to McKay's lab. One of the devices did something and knocked him unconscious."
"We're on our way, Colonel." Beckett replied and cut the connection.
John leaned back against the table leg, Rodney pulled to his side. He had a hand on his arm to steady him and frowned as his fingers slid over fabric and onto bare skin. He yanked at the shirtsleeve gently, running his finger along the perimeter of the wide hole there. Looking down he saw two more holes in the knees of Rodney's pants and the shoes on his feet were definitely not the ones he'd been wearing a few minutes ago.
He didn't have longer to think on it because Carson's team was there and they took Rodney from him, loading him onto the gurney and wheeling him to the infirmary. John was right on their heels, answering Carson's questions and answering them again for Elizabeth when she met them on the way.
"I don't *know,*" he hissed to Elizabeth as they waited on the far side of the infirmary, keeping Rodney in sight. "All he did was touch it and then he did this...flickering thing. He was fine for about half a minute, then he just passed out."
She nodded. "I've given orders for Radek to keep everyone away from that lab, just in case. After we figure out what it did to Rodney we'll decide what to do with it."
"We can toss it off the pier for all I care." John grumbled, sitting back in his chair.
Ronon and Teyla joined them not long after that and they all kept watch over their friend, not moving even after Carson told them that it seemed as though Rodney had merely passed out from strain and exhaustion. John brought up the change in his clothing and what the scientist had said, but they wouldn't know what happened for sure until Rodney woke up.
===
It had been three days and Rodney wouldn't discuss what had happened to him with anyone but Heightmeyer, as she wasn't be allowed to tell. It annoyed John to no end and after the third time he had cornered her, she had sicced Elizabeth on him.
"Dr. Heightmeyer assures me that this wont affect Rodney's work," she stated, giving him a look that said 'I know you're worried but you're being a complete asshole. Don't make me take you down.' He got that look a lot. "And unless I see otherwise I'm not going to pressure him about it. He'll tell us when he's ready."
He'd nodded, because what else could he say? He wasn't even sure if this was the right event. Maybe something else had happened to Rodney. He wouldn't know unless Rodney *told* him.
This whole living it for the first time thing? Striding blindly forward? Sucked.
===
John had never had a lot of patience. It only ever looked like he did because the people around him had even less. The waiting for Rodney to come to him and bare his soul deal was taking too long, so John took matters into his own hands. He was worried, Rodney was his teammate and best friend; he'd understand a lot better than Heightmeyer would. He'd gotten stuck in that time-dilation field for six months ago, hadn't he? He'd come back to an Atlantis that had barely moved while he was gone. Unfortunately, his idea for a group therapy had been shot down by
Heightmeyer. She was on to him.
"Come on," he whispered sweetly to the console in front of him, feeling a little foolish. How Rodney and Zelenka did it--in front of people, no less--without dying of embarrassment he didn't know. "I just need a little help here. It's very important I hear what's going on in that room. You want to help me, don't you?"
He tried to sound as sincere as possible. The lab was empty and John had locked the door to make sure no one bothered him. Only Rodney took care of the communications system anyway and he wasn't going to be coming by any time soon.
He ran his hands over the console, feeling more than a hint of perverseness for *feeling the city up* but this was important and really, no different from touching the Ancient devices or opening doors. Really. The small speaker in front of him crackled for a moment as it turned on.
"-o think?" Rodney's exasperated voice came through loud and clear and John grinned in triumph, giving the speaker and console a proud pat. "Four years of my life I'll never get back, wasted by being the plaything of a four-year-old!"
John's stomach dropped. "Five and a half." he murmured defensively, though there was no firmness behind it.
"It was miserable! I had to sneak food, steal clothes and wash them when no one was home! We had to rush through bathing before his mother made him get out! And do you know how small the bed was?!"
"Why did you share a bed?" Heightmeyer asked in that annoying casual tone.
"Because," Rodney bit out. "He was afraid the *monsters* would *eat* me."
John felt his face flush. What five-year-old didn't have monsters under his bed?
"That's a common fear for a young child to have." Heightmeyer explained.
"It's a stupid fear. Children are just so.." Rodney's voice lost some of its heat, turning tired. "So stupid. All they ever want to do is play. They don't think about anyth--"
His hand slammed on top of the box, mentally screaming OFF at it before he could even realize what he was doing. Of course, John thought. He had never thought of how Rodney would see those years. It had never occurred to him that he was worrying about the fate of the people on Atlantis without him. Four years working desperately to get home, constantly being distracted by a child's pleas to play, to read to him, to help him with his homework. He hadn't been a friend, he'd been a nuisance.
John stood slowly, stomach lurching. It hadn't been a total waste, had it? Rodney was the reason he'd joined the Air Force. Without him he'd have never been in Antarctica to sit in the chair that would help them get to Atlantis. Once they'd gotten here, without him a lot of the technology wouldn't have worked as easily, they wouldn't have even survived the first time around without the other John Sheppard to pilot the time-travelling Puddlejumper.
He wouldn't have woken the Wraith.
No, they wouldn't have come so far in defeating the Wraith. Being here was a good
thing; wars weren't won in a day and without a hell of a lot of casualties. Teyla had assured him of that, that in spite of everything she was glad to finally be able to make a difference.
Rodney didn't really think it was that bad. They'd had fun, right? Rodney'd taught him math and he'd gotten all the chocolate John's allowance could get. They'd played in the summer and when it got cold he'd always put his share of the mini-marshmallows into Rodney's mug of hot chocolate. They'd been friends. Best friends.
John left the lab and decided to run until he was too tired to think. Ronon had joined him and outlasted him, of course, giving a short nod that was his show of understanding. He figured that John was getting frustrated over Rodney's unwillingness to confide in them, and he had been. He'd rather be pissed and oblivious now though. With a nod of his own he slouched off to his room, collapsing on the bed and falling asleep without bothering to change.
===
The rest of the week consisted of John throwing two hissy fits: one resulting in the destruction of his own room and the other bringing about his first real shouting match with Teyla and ended in bruises and bloody noses with Ronon holding them apart and then dragging them to Beckett. Rodney had come in and shouted at them for being ten-year-olds and to next time fight without any sticks in reach. He'd also threatened to send them to couples therapy and John had made a scathing comment about Rodney's own openness from where he was curled up on one of the beds with an ice pack pressed to his inner thigh.
"So this is all my fault, of course it is," Rodney had muttered, rolling his eyes. "I've told you: I was not tortured, I was not hurt, starved, imprisoned, or in danger of any kind. I was practically on vacation."
His berating tone just made John huff and roll--carefully--to his other side.
"Very mature, Colonel."
"Perhaps if you told us what did happen," Teyla pointed out, her voice a little off from the cloth pressed to her nose. "Then it would put our minds at rest."
"Nothing happened," Rodney insisted. "It doesn't matter."
"If it didn't matter then there's no reason to keep it a secret." Ronon added, and John gave a small 'ha!' without looking over.
"There's no reason to tell!"
"John is worried, and your defensiveness lately has put me on edge as well." Teyla stated firmly.
There was a brief pause in the conversation, probably with Rodney glaring and Teyla and Ronon looking back at him with those unamused expressions...well, Ronon might be amused. Finally, he heard Rodney let out an annoyed breath. "I have work to do. Stop trying to kill each other; Elizabeth will never let us go offworld next week if you keep this up." And then he was gone and John was no closer to figuring things out, only now he was bruised and aching and Carson wouldn't give him anything more than aspirin.
===
After that, Rodney stopped avoiding them at meal times and being so distractedly formal at meetings. He still didn't admit what had happened to him and John had to hide his annoyance at the fact. The only reassurance was that it didn't seem to affect his friendship with John, which was honestly confusing as he had been the source of Rodney's four years of misery. He didn't know what he'd expected in regard to that, really. He'd felt like their friendship had been rejected, but maybe Rodney just couldn't see him as that eight-year-old.
He was making his fourth loop of the science labs, counting down the minutes until he could drag Rodney off to lunch, when the doors to his friend's lab slid open and said friend was standing there with an annoyed look.
"Colonel, if you don't have anything useful to do then at least come in and bug me instead of going by my door every five minutes." he demanded, turning without
waiting for an answer and going back to his table.
John followed, pulling over a chair to the end of the lab table to sit. A printed piece of paper and a pencil were slapped down in front of him and he gave Rodney a questioning look.
"I've got a lot to do and I don't want you interrupting," Rodney explained,
pointing to the paper. "Find the mistakes. Quietly."
Now that sounded familiar. They'd done this, years ago when he was still a kid. Whenever Rodney had needed a day off from 'making sure John didn't foolishly break his neck' he would sit John at his desk and give him sheet after sheet of math problems. However hard they were usually told you how long Rodney wanted to be left alone.
Of course, after he'd told Rodney about the whole MENSA thing there had been a
solid five days where the scientist had all but chained him to the tables and made him do tests and proofs and anything else he had on hand. It had been fun, though he'd complained the whole time. He never told Rodney that to find out just how smart he was he only needed to ask.
"What?" John leaned back in his chair, fixing a rather pathetic look on his face. He couldn't let on that he enjoyed the little challenges Rodney gave him, after all. "We've got fifteen minutes, let's just head down to the mess early."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "I just said that I'm busy and no one here apparently knows how to double-check their work," he explained. "Everyone else I usually make do this just gave me excuses and wouldn't come in. That leaves you."
"I wouldn't have come in either if I'd known you were going to make me do this." John grumbled, sitting down and picking up the pen.
"We can't let that intelligence of yours go to waste," the other man said cheerily, going over to his desk. "I'm sure plenty of people worked very hard to sharpen that mind when you were younger. You shouldn't disappoint them."
John looked up, but Rodney was already sitting, his back to him. Eyes narrowed, he leaned back in his seat. "Actually, I was mostly self-taught."
He watched Rodney's back straighten and there was a pause before he turned his chair slightly. "Really?" he asked, voice caught in that higher pitch he got when he was unsure or put offguard. "You were?"
"Uh-huh. The school gave me tutors but they were useless," he nodded. "They didn't understand my brilliance."
"School tutors *are* useless," Rodney said with a snort. "It's a wonder you're at the level you are now."
"Like I said, self-taught," John drawled, slowly turning back to his paper. He could feel Rodney's gaze boring into him. "Mostly."
===
"All right," Rodney said suddenly on their first mission after the incident. Ronon and Teyla were walking ahead of them, probably not out of earshot, but far enough it felt like just the two of them. "Do you still want to know what happened to me?"
John looked over, eyes wide with surprise. "Yes." he blurted before the scientist could change his mind.
The other man nodded, a grave expression on his face. When he spoke it was slow, as though he was considering how he worded it. "I was transported away and stuck in a time-dilation field for four years. I found myself trapped in a small community with people that thought my sudden appearance meant that I was their savior from a terrorizing enemy. I was treated as an honored guest and was seduced by their leader, a very pretty blond with a hidden agenda to keep me as her love slave forever. However, I defeated their enemy, saved them all, and while it *pained* me to leave her there I knew I still had my duty to Atlantis, whatever had become of it. And the whole love slave thing was just a little creepy."
John stopped walking halfway through and Rodney was already a few paces ahead by the time he was finished. The other man stopped as well and turned, a slight smile on his face. "No, wait, that was you, wasn't it?"
"Damn it, McKay!" he yelled, hurrying to catch up as Rodney had started moving again. The scientist had a self-satisfied grin on his face and was humming to himself. "Fine, right, you got me. Good job, though you really suck at storytelling. She was a brunette and it was six months."
"I have it on good authority that I'm an excellent storyteller, Colonel, and I note you didn't object to the bit about the love slave," Rodney replied. "Remind me, just how long did it take for you to actually tell me everything that happened to you in there?"
"A month." John muttered, bumping Rodney's shoulder lightly as he drew even with him.
Rodney bumped back. "Yes, and that was only because I got you drunk."
"So I have to get you drunk."
"No," the scientist said slowly. "Remember, you were very angry after you woke up."
"I wait, then."
"You wait. I will tell you, someday," Rodney promised, serious now. "There are just some...slight issues I need to work through first."
John nodded, not liking how that sounded. "All right. I'll be good."
He wasn't a patient person, but when he thought about it he *did* wait thirty years to find Rodney. He could wait a little longer for his sake. Not too long, though.
end
Notes2: Um, it wouldn't move after this. At all. I have another couple of pieces in my notebook that I may bring up as drabbles to seriously wrap this up, and I wanted to explain the scrapheap device that did this in more detail. So we'll see how that goes. I'm sorry Rodney was so stubborn, he never makes things easy for me.
Next: Here