Under the Skin 64/67
Under the Skin 64/67
Rodney left Carson, his mind tiredly spinning, but still spinning nonetheless. He knew it was late, but with all the sleep he'd been doing lately, he knew he'd just end up staring at the ceiling-just like this afternoon.
While things had settled down to a certain extent, he still felt naked, exposed, old memories still fresh-too fresh-in his mind. Throughout the day he'd found himself reliving experiences from his past, many of which he had no desire to remember.
Sighing, he let himself walk, allowing his mind to whirl and unwind at its own pace. Several corridors and a transporter trip later, he was back down in the East Pier, his feet taking him unerringly to the labs.
He paused at the door to the lab he only vaguely remembered, the source of his current state of confusion. A PowerBar wrapper littered the floor near the door and he bent down to pick it up, shuffling over to sit in the chair at the large console in the center of the room. Leaning forward, elbows in knees, he held the silver wrapper in his hands, his fingers playing with the material as he let his mind drift in the quiet.
"Okay, see, this is why I had you under guard. I turn my back for ten minutes and one of you ends up down here." Sheppard's voice had a note of exasperation in it.
"I'm not doing anything other than thinking," Rodney said, his voice holding a note of resignation. He refused to look up, his eyes focused entirely on the wrapper, watching as the light reflected and shined on the silver material as he moved it.
"Knowing you, you're probably thinking too much." The Colonel dropped into a chair next to him. "So what's on your mind?"
Rodney glanced over briefly. "I'm surprised you're not armed. I figured you'd have Ronon's gun with you. Just in case I gave you any trouble."
Sheppard shrugged. "I was just doing a last sweep of the area before turning it over to the next shift when I saw a dot." He held up the life signs detector. "Figured I'd come see what was up."
"You're doing a security sweep without your weapon? You sure you're feeling all right, Colonel?"
"What makes you think I don't have one on me somewhere? Just because I don't have the P-90 doesn't mean I'm not armed."
"Come on. I know you far too well. You sleep with your P-90. If you don't have it on a security sweep it's because you weren't doing one."
"I don't sleep with it. It pokes you in the side, and you spend half the night worrying about whether or not you're going to hit the safety when you turn over and accidentally shoot yourself."
Rodney scowled briefly at Sheppard before turning back to his wrapper.
Sheppard sighed. "All right, I was worried about you. I wasn't following you, but I happened to see you heading this direction and thought I'd make sure you were okay. That we were okay."
He glanced up sharply. "Why wouldn't we be? You obviously still have some trust issues, so that's nothing new. So it looks like things are back to normal, so you can go hop off to bed."
"I don't have trust issues, Rodney. I really was going off duty and headed to bed when you blew by me in the hall. You were so absorbed you didn't even see me there. Look, if this is about that Ancient machine thing, I'm not sorry I was there. I forget sometimes that you aren't a soldier, and to be honest, I ask too much of you most of the time. But you always come through. I don't think I ever bother to thank you, but I am glad you're on my team. I can't imagine doing this, fighting the Wraith, without you there to remind me why I fight."
Rodney huffed, shaking his head. "You're right I'm not a soldier, but most of the time everyone forgets that."
"And for what it’s worth, I'm sorry about that. But I think you surprised us all with how you've come through. You might not be fully-trained as a member of the military, but you are a soldier of sorts. And I'd rather have you beside me when things are going to hell than a Marine. I know I can count on you."
"Even though I usually can't hit the broad side of the barn?"
Sheppard gave him a wry smile. "I can't deny I'd like to see you get a bit better at that, but not because I want to put you out there to shoot things. I am painfully aware that I can't always be around to protect you, so I want to give you the skills to keep yourself alive until I can get there. But you're not on my team because of shooting abilities. You're on my team because you know how to think in a crisis and get the job done. You come up with solutions no one else would even dream of, and that's the kind of person we need in the field. Hell, you've saved my ass more than once because of that, and I can hit the broad side of a barn."
"Now, why I'd be shooting at a barn in the first place is a good question to ask."
"You know, I always wondered that myself. There could be cows in there."
Rodney shot him an odd look. "What is it with you and Carson and strange animals?"
"Cows are strange? They can be a little goofy, and sometimes creepy, but strange?"
Rodney turned, sitting up a little, scowling at the other man. "Let me re-phrase my question then: what’s with yours and Carson's obsessions with animals lately? If it's some kind of strange animal fetish, I don't want to know."
Sheppard looked confused. "I think I’m missing something here. You were the one who brought up barns and shooting at them. I was just pointing out that if you shoot at a barn, you could hit something inside it, like cows."
"Nevermind," he said, waving his hand absently, turning back to the wrapper. "That conversation once was more than my careful sensibilities can take."
"Okay," He drew the word out. After a moment, Rodney felt Sheppard's hand on his arm. "Wanna tell me what's really bothering you? I have a feeling it isn't cows."
"Do you know I was beat up on a regular basis when I was eight? Every day, like clockwork."
"Why? By who?"
"Brad Jameson. He hated me with a passion usually reserved for brussel sprouts and creamed spinach."
"Why did he hate you?"
Rodney shrugged. "I'm not really sure. He was twelve, I was eight. He was as dumb as a load of bricks, but that apparently didn't matter to his parents."
"That must have really sucked. Didn't your parents do anything?"
He laughed once, the sound bitter, harsh. "They were too busy yelling at each other."
The hand on his arm tightened briefly. "I'm sorry. I guess adults don't realize how screwed up they are sometimes. Or they're too busy being screwed up to take note of how it's affecting the kids."
Rodney shrugged. "You can only tell yourself that so many times, Colonel, before it gets old and tired-like me."
Sheppard leaned back in the chair. "Would it help to know my family wasn't much better? My Mom took off when I was pretty small, and my father spent the bulk of his time off doing military things. The only time I really ever saw him was when I'd done something wrong. He'd show up, beat me until my voice was gone from screaming, then disappear again."
"You could at least take care of yourself, stand up for yourself. I had no hope in hell of doing that."
Sheppard snorted. "The only thing that got me through was the dream of flying some day. I saw a bunch of pilots walk by when I was about five, laughing, talking about how free it was when they were up in the air, just them and the plane and the clouds. I spent my childhood waiting for the day I was old enough to enroll in the Air Force Academy."
"Least you had that."
"I wish I could go back and fix it for you. I was a scrawny kid, so I'm not sure how much help I would have been, but if I could have done anything... I didn't look at your memories of your past. That felt too…personal…I guess. I did my best to avoid looking too close."
"It's better you didn't. You probably wouldn't have liked what you saw. I know I don't, but I can't run away from any of it. It just keeps cropping up again and again like a bad B-movie."
"Yeah, if I had looked too close, I'd probably be tempted to hunt a few people down and shoot them for you next time I have leave. But McKay, don't let the past drown out what you have now. This may be a mixed-up and at times bizarre galaxy, but we are a family of sorts. A better one than what most of us grew up with."
Rodney snorted. "Family."
"Yes, family. I know this is more of a home to me than anywhere else I've ever lived. And I…and keeping them safe is important." Sheppard reached over and poked him.
"You know that petty, bad with people thing?"
"It doesn't matter. We've all seen at each other at our worst and our best. And we still stick together, especially when it matters most. That's what family does-it ignores your faults, accepting you as you are. In fact, I've overheard a few scientists whispering that they would never admit it to your face, but they miss your ranting and yelling in the labs. They work better, and harder, when you're there."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "They don't want me to call them on their dumb mistakes, that's all. Nothing more, trust me."
"No, you trust me. They don't like being yelled at, no. But have you actually looked at their faces when they do get a bit of praise? I think you know better than you're willing to admit that most of your staff lives for those moments. Because they know if they can please you, they really have done a good job. You won't sugarcoat it, or lie to them to make them feel better. When they get your approval, they know they earned it. Why do you think so many chose to stay here and continue working, even when the option of returning to Earth was presented to them?"
"A misplaced sense of adventure?"
"Nope. It's because working under you makes them better scientists, and they know it. Have you ever actually looked at any of the reviews the staff submits to the SGC on our performance on a regular basis? 'Hard, but fair and amazing to work for' is pretty much the theme for yours."
"Of course I look, but you can never believe what people put in those things."
"Maybe taken individually, no. But you can't deny it when it happens across the entire staff on a regular basis. Face it, Rodney, you might be the toughest boss any of them have ever worked for, but they pretty much all agree you're the best too, since they actually learn and get better under you."
"Get better?" He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Most days I wonder how they got their degrees. I’m thinking mail order since they don't seem to know any kind of science, let alone the basics of what they're supposed to know."
Sheppard grinned. "There's the Rodney we know and love. Come on, admit it, you've missed being in the labs at the center of everything. I think Zelenka is about to have a heart attack. If you aren't careful, he may throw a party when you get back."
"Doubtful," he said, throwing Sheppard a cautious glance. "And about the labs…"
"What about them?"
"Zelenka's doing fine for now, right?"
"I think he's almost ready to resign if you don't come back soon, but I haven't heard of any explosions. Why?"
Rodney shook his head, focusing back on the PowerBar wrapper. "Might be better to keep him there."
"Why would we want to do that? Even if I thought he would accept, which he has made very clear he wouldn't, I would never ask him. We have you, we don't want anyone else running the science department."
"What if I can't…remember? What if that part's gone?" he hissed, despair in his voice.
"Remember what? Rodney, what's really wrong?" His seat suddenly moved, and Sheppard forced him to look up, his eyes intense.
"I don't know if I remember what I'm supposed to. I can't tell. What if that's gone? What then?"
"Then you re-learn. You're still you, McKay. You still have that genius brain of yours. But I don't think you've forgotten anything important. I think you're just afraid, but when has that ever stopped you before?"
"We don't have time for me to re-learn what I don't know, what I've forgotten. You can't afford the liability."
"We'll make time. Besides, you won't know if you're actually missing anything until you get in there and try, right? So, why worry about it now?"
"Because I'm the only one in this little world that ever considers the reality of any situation. You sit there and say 'if this' 'maybe then'. Reality and John Sheppard have never quite met." Rodney tried to push away, to get up, but Sheppard didn't let him.
"Stop. I'm well aware of the reality of the situation, but I'm also willing to take a leap of faith. Beckett spent hours making sure he didn't touch anything that was yours. I trust him when he said he fixed the problem without causing new issues. Stop creating worst case scenarios in your head, and use the time and effort you're expending to get to the labs and get back to work. It's all still there. Don't doubt yourself."
"Faith," he huffed, "is overrated and usually misplaced."
"I've put my faith in you countless times, and never regretted it. And I don't intend to start now."
"Then apparently your string of good luck may have come to an end."
Sheppard's face was frustrated. His hands tightened on Rodney's arms, almost to the point of pain. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen to what I'm saying, damn it. You haven't lost anything, and you're still in charge of the science department. You are still on my team, and we have a mission scheduled to leave three days from now. If you try to leave Atlantis or step down, I'll fight you until you agree to stay. You are needed here, and nothing-I repeat nothing-has changed that."
"How do you know that? How can you be so sure?"
Sheppard leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Because I know. Because while you've been hiding, I've been out listening to what people are saying. Carson and I had to fend off the entire population from coming to see you while you were recovering. And when word got out that you were getting better, the mess staff even started planning to make all your favorites, including that god-awful blue Jell-O. In other words, I just know."
"There's nothing wrong with blue Jell-O," he said, crossing his hands over his chest now that Sheppard had let go of him. "And I'm not you, Mr. Glass-half-full, Mr. Positive."
"It’s not optimism, McKay, its getting out there and seeing how people react. Go to the labs tomorrow. See for yourself. Actually pay attention when you walk through the halls instead of filling your mind with all those equations. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."
"Equations are my job…they're predictable. Orderly. People are…messy," he said, rising to his feet, letting them lead him to the other side of the room.
"I'm not telling you to give up equations, just pay attention tomorrow when you get around. Go to the mess for meals, go to the labs. Take a few seconds to look around before you get involved in whatever you're doing. It won't take all that much effort, and you'll see for yourself how Atlantis feels about you."
"I can't," he said, his voice intense, desperate, trying to get the point across to Sheppard. Trying to make him see.
"You can. One day. Anyone can do one day, even you. Don't doubt yourself, Rodney."
He turned, shaking his head. "It's just another one of your pipe dreams, Colonel."
"Why are you so sure of your own failure before you've even tried? Come on, where's the 'I can do six impossible things before breakfast today' attitude? Even if you have to fake it at first, I'm willing to bet some serious chocolate that by the end of the day you wouldn't be pretending any more."
"Because I've lived my life, Colonel. I know my track record. When it comes to equations and science, sure I'm a genius, but as soon as we get to the messy stuff I’m toast. And right now, my head is full of that messy stuff and I don't know how to make heads or tails of it. I'm remembering things that happened when I was six and I'm having problems remembering what some of the equations were that we used to prolong the life of the ZedPM. If I can't do my job, Colonel, I’m no use to anyone. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said heading toward the door, "I think I need to take a walk."
Sheppard was faster than he thought, moving across the room and catching his arm before he could get far. "Damn it, McKay, would you just listen to me? Everything's right on the surface right now, yeah, but the fact that it’s all still there means nothing is wrong with you. The memories will settle-Beckett said the device might have stirred things up, but in a few days it will all be back to normal. And getting back to your normal routines will only speed that up."
"Or else I'll end up blowing up Atlantis because of a stupid mistake."
"You won't."
Rodney's words were quiet, desperate, resigned. "I don't know that."
"I do. You've trusted me before with your life. Will you trust me now?"
He looked up, holding Sheppard's gaze for a long moment, neither man speaking, the room silent except for their breaths.
Rodney closed his eyes and turned away, a reluctant nod his answer.
Sheppard let go of his arms with a short squeeze. "Try to get some sleep. Go to the labs tomorrow, and watch how people react to you. Come find me if it gets to be too much, or if you just need someone to talk at for a bit."
"But I'm-"
"Trust me."
Rodney sighed, nodding again. "Fine."
"Good. I'll let you think for a bit. Just, for God's sake promise me you won't try to turn anything on down here. And on the off chance Beckett wanders down, call Lorne." Sheppard started heading towards the transporter.
"Sheppard?"
He turned to look back. "Yeah?"
"While I still think this is not only a waste of time, but a very bad idea, thank you."
Sheppard grinned at him. "So this will be the one time I get to prove the Great Rodney McKay wrong. I can live with that. And you're welcome."
McKay scowled as the Colonel walked down the corridor, vanishing quickly from his view. He sighed, moving a few feet back to the chair he'd been sitting in before, and dropping into it.
He still needed some more time to wade through his memories and this was as good as place as any.
***
TBC
Rodney left Carson, his mind tiredly spinning, but still spinning nonetheless. He knew it was late, but with all the sleep he'd been doing lately, he knew he'd just end up staring at the ceiling-just like this afternoon.
While things had settled down to a certain extent, he still felt naked, exposed, old memories still fresh-too fresh-in his mind. Throughout the day he'd found himself reliving experiences from his past, many of which he had no desire to remember.
Sighing, he let himself walk, allowing his mind to whirl and unwind at its own pace. Several corridors and a transporter trip later, he was back down in the East Pier, his feet taking him unerringly to the labs.
He paused at the door to the lab he only vaguely remembered, the source of his current state of confusion. A PowerBar wrapper littered the floor near the door and he bent down to pick it up, shuffling over to sit in the chair at the large console in the center of the room. Leaning forward, elbows in knees, he held the silver wrapper in his hands, his fingers playing with the material as he let his mind drift in the quiet.
"Okay, see, this is why I had you under guard. I turn my back for ten minutes and one of you ends up down here." Sheppard's voice had a note of exasperation in it.
"I'm not doing anything other than thinking," Rodney said, his voice holding a note of resignation. He refused to look up, his eyes focused entirely on the wrapper, watching as the light reflected and shined on the silver material as he moved it.
"Knowing you, you're probably thinking too much." The Colonel dropped into a chair next to him. "So what's on your mind?"
Rodney glanced over briefly. "I'm surprised you're not armed. I figured you'd have Ronon's gun with you. Just in case I gave you any trouble."
Sheppard shrugged. "I was just doing a last sweep of the area before turning it over to the next shift when I saw a dot." He held up the life signs detector. "Figured I'd come see what was up."
"You're doing a security sweep without your weapon? You sure you're feeling all right, Colonel?"
"What makes you think I don't have one on me somewhere? Just because I don't have the P-90 doesn't mean I'm not armed."
"Come on. I know you far too well. You sleep with your P-90. If you don't have it on a security sweep it's because you weren't doing one."
"I don't sleep with it. It pokes you in the side, and you spend half the night worrying about whether or not you're going to hit the safety when you turn over and accidentally shoot yourself."
Rodney scowled briefly at Sheppard before turning back to his wrapper.
Sheppard sighed. "All right, I was worried about you. I wasn't following you, but I happened to see you heading this direction and thought I'd make sure you were okay. That we were okay."
He glanced up sharply. "Why wouldn't we be? You obviously still have some trust issues, so that's nothing new. So it looks like things are back to normal, so you can go hop off to bed."
"I don't have trust issues, Rodney. I really was going off duty and headed to bed when you blew by me in the hall. You were so absorbed you didn't even see me there. Look, if this is about that Ancient machine thing, I'm not sorry I was there. I forget sometimes that you aren't a soldier, and to be honest, I ask too much of you most of the time. But you always come through. I don't think I ever bother to thank you, but I am glad you're on my team. I can't imagine doing this, fighting the Wraith, without you there to remind me why I fight."
Rodney huffed, shaking his head. "You're right I'm not a soldier, but most of the time everyone forgets that."
"And for what it’s worth, I'm sorry about that. But I think you surprised us all with how you've come through. You might not be fully-trained as a member of the military, but you are a soldier of sorts. And I'd rather have you beside me when things are going to hell than a Marine. I know I can count on you."
"Even though I usually can't hit the broad side of the barn?"
Sheppard gave him a wry smile. "I can't deny I'd like to see you get a bit better at that, but not because I want to put you out there to shoot things. I am painfully aware that I can't always be around to protect you, so I want to give you the skills to keep yourself alive until I can get there. But you're not on my team because of shooting abilities. You're on my team because you know how to think in a crisis and get the job done. You come up with solutions no one else would even dream of, and that's the kind of person we need in the field. Hell, you've saved my ass more than once because of that, and I can hit the broad side of a barn."
"Now, why I'd be shooting at a barn in the first place is a good question to ask."
"You know, I always wondered that myself. There could be cows in there."
Rodney shot him an odd look. "What is it with you and Carson and strange animals?"
"Cows are strange? They can be a little goofy, and sometimes creepy, but strange?"
Rodney turned, sitting up a little, scowling at the other man. "Let me re-phrase my question then: what’s with yours and Carson's obsessions with animals lately? If it's some kind of strange animal fetish, I don't want to know."
Sheppard looked confused. "I think I’m missing something here. You were the one who brought up barns and shooting at them. I was just pointing out that if you shoot at a barn, you could hit something inside it, like cows."
"Nevermind," he said, waving his hand absently, turning back to the wrapper. "That conversation once was more than my careful sensibilities can take."
"Okay," He drew the word out. After a moment, Rodney felt Sheppard's hand on his arm. "Wanna tell me what's really bothering you? I have a feeling it isn't cows."
"Do you know I was beat up on a regular basis when I was eight? Every day, like clockwork."
"Why? By who?"
"Brad Jameson. He hated me with a passion usually reserved for brussel sprouts and creamed spinach."
"Why did he hate you?"
Rodney shrugged. "I'm not really sure. He was twelve, I was eight. He was as dumb as a load of bricks, but that apparently didn't matter to his parents."
"That must have really sucked. Didn't your parents do anything?"
He laughed once, the sound bitter, harsh. "They were too busy yelling at each other."
The hand on his arm tightened briefly. "I'm sorry. I guess adults don't realize how screwed up they are sometimes. Or they're too busy being screwed up to take note of how it's affecting the kids."
Rodney shrugged. "You can only tell yourself that so many times, Colonel, before it gets old and tired-like me."
Sheppard leaned back in the chair. "Would it help to know my family wasn't much better? My Mom took off when I was pretty small, and my father spent the bulk of his time off doing military things. The only time I really ever saw him was when I'd done something wrong. He'd show up, beat me until my voice was gone from screaming, then disappear again."
"You could at least take care of yourself, stand up for yourself. I had no hope in hell of doing that."
Sheppard snorted. "The only thing that got me through was the dream of flying some day. I saw a bunch of pilots walk by when I was about five, laughing, talking about how free it was when they were up in the air, just them and the plane and the clouds. I spent my childhood waiting for the day I was old enough to enroll in the Air Force Academy."
"Least you had that."
"I wish I could go back and fix it for you. I was a scrawny kid, so I'm not sure how much help I would have been, but if I could have done anything... I didn't look at your memories of your past. That felt too…personal…I guess. I did my best to avoid looking too close."
"It's better you didn't. You probably wouldn't have liked what you saw. I know I don't, but I can't run away from any of it. It just keeps cropping up again and again like a bad B-movie."
"Yeah, if I had looked too close, I'd probably be tempted to hunt a few people down and shoot them for you next time I have leave. But McKay, don't let the past drown out what you have now. This may be a mixed-up and at times bizarre galaxy, but we are a family of sorts. A better one than what most of us grew up with."
Rodney snorted. "Family."
"Yes, family. I know this is more of a home to me than anywhere else I've ever lived. And I…and keeping them safe is important." Sheppard reached over and poked him.
"You know that petty, bad with people thing?"
"It doesn't matter. We've all seen at each other at our worst and our best. And we still stick together, especially when it matters most. That's what family does-it ignores your faults, accepting you as you are. In fact, I've overheard a few scientists whispering that they would never admit it to your face, but they miss your ranting and yelling in the labs. They work better, and harder, when you're there."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "They don't want me to call them on their dumb mistakes, that's all. Nothing more, trust me."
"No, you trust me. They don't like being yelled at, no. But have you actually looked at their faces when they do get a bit of praise? I think you know better than you're willing to admit that most of your staff lives for those moments. Because they know if they can please you, they really have done a good job. You won't sugarcoat it, or lie to them to make them feel better. When they get your approval, they know they earned it. Why do you think so many chose to stay here and continue working, even when the option of returning to Earth was presented to them?"
"A misplaced sense of adventure?"
"Nope. It's because working under you makes them better scientists, and they know it. Have you ever actually looked at any of the reviews the staff submits to the SGC on our performance on a regular basis? 'Hard, but fair and amazing to work for' is pretty much the theme for yours."
"Of course I look, but you can never believe what people put in those things."
"Maybe taken individually, no. But you can't deny it when it happens across the entire staff on a regular basis. Face it, Rodney, you might be the toughest boss any of them have ever worked for, but they pretty much all agree you're the best too, since they actually learn and get better under you."
"Get better?" He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Most days I wonder how they got their degrees. I’m thinking mail order since they don't seem to know any kind of science, let alone the basics of what they're supposed to know."
Sheppard grinned. "There's the Rodney we know and love. Come on, admit it, you've missed being in the labs at the center of everything. I think Zelenka is about to have a heart attack. If you aren't careful, he may throw a party when you get back."
"Doubtful," he said, throwing Sheppard a cautious glance. "And about the labs…"
"What about them?"
"Zelenka's doing fine for now, right?"
"I think he's almost ready to resign if you don't come back soon, but I haven't heard of any explosions. Why?"
Rodney shook his head, focusing back on the PowerBar wrapper. "Might be better to keep him there."
"Why would we want to do that? Even if I thought he would accept, which he has made very clear he wouldn't, I would never ask him. We have you, we don't want anyone else running the science department."
"What if I can't…remember? What if that part's gone?" he hissed, despair in his voice.
"Remember what? Rodney, what's really wrong?" His seat suddenly moved, and Sheppard forced him to look up, his eyes intense.
"I don't know if I remember what I'm supposed to. I can't tell. What if that's gone? What then?"
"Then you re-learn. You're still you, McKay. You still have that genius brain of yours. But I don't think you've forgotten anything important. I think you're just afraid, but when has that ever stopped you before?"
"We don't have time for me to re-learn what I don't know, what I've forgotten. You can't afford the liability."
"We'll make time. Besides, you won't know if you're actually missing anything until you get in there and try, right? So, why worry about it now?"
"Because I'm the only one in this little world that ever considers the reality of any situation. You sit there and say 'if this' 'maybe then'. Reality and John Sheppard have never quite met." Rodney tried to push away, to get up, but Sheppard didn't let him.
"Stop. I'm well aware of the reality of the situation, but I'm also willing to take a leap of faith. Beckett spent hours making sure he didn't touch anything that was yours. I trust him when he said he fixed the problem without causing new issues. Stop creating worst case scenarios in your head, and use the time and effort you're expending to get to the labs and get back to work. It's all still there. Don't doubt yourself."
"Faith," he huffed, "is overrated and usually misplaced."
"I've put my faith in you countless times, and never regretted it. And I don't intend to start now."
"Then apparently your string of good luck may have come to an end."
Sheppard's face was frustrated. His hands tightened on Rodney's arms, almost to the point of pain. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen to what I'm saying, damn it. You haven't lost anything, and you're still in charge of the science department. You are still on my team, and we have a mission scheduled to leave three days from now. If you try to leave Atlantis or step down, I'll fight you until you agree to stay. You are needed here, and nothing-I repeat nothing-has changed that."
"How do you know that? How can you be so sure?"
Sheppard leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Because I know. Because while you've been hiding, I've been out listening to what people are saying. Carson and I had to fend off the entire population from coming to see you while you were recovering. And when word got out that you were getting better, the mess staff even started planning to make all your favorites, including that god-awful blue Jell-O. In other words, I just know."
"There's nothing wrong with blue Jell-O," he said, crossing his hands over his chest now that Sheppard had let go of him. "And I'm not you, Mr. Glass-half-full, Mr. Positive."
"It’s not optimism, McKay, its getting out there and seeing how people react. Go to the labs tomorrow. See for yourself. Actually pay attention when you walk through the halls instead of filling your mind with all those equations. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."
"Equations are my job…they're predictable. Orderly. People are…messy," he said, rising to his feet, letting them lead him to the other side of the room.
"I'm not telling you to give up equations, just pay attention tomorrow when you get around. Go to the mess for meals, go to the labs. Take a few seconds to look around before you get involved in whatever you're doing. It won't take all that much effort, and you'll see for yourself how Atlantis feels about you."
"I can't," he said, his voice intense, desperate, trying to get the point across to Sheppard. Trying to make him see.
"You can. One day. Anyone can do one day, even you. Don't doubt yourself, Rodney."
He turned, shaking his head. "It's just another one of your pipe dreams, Colonel."
"Why are you so sure of your own failure before you've even tried? Come on, where's the 'I can do six impossible things before breakfast today' attitude? Even if you have to fake it at first, I'm willing to bet some serious chocolate that by the end of the day you wouldn't be pretending any more."
"Because I've lived my life, Colonel. I know my track record. When it comes to equations and science, sure I'm a genius, but as soon as we get to the messy stuff I’m toast. And right now, my head is full of that messy stuff and I don't know how to make heads or tails of it. I'm remembering things that happened when I was six and I'm having problems remembering what some of the equations were that we used to prolong the life of the ZedPM. If I can't do my job, Colonel, I’m no use to anyone. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said heading toward the door, "I think I need to take a walk."
Sheppard was faster than he thought, moving across the room and catching his arm before he could get far. "Damn it, McKay, would you just listen to me? Everything's right on the surface right now, yeah, but the fact that it’s all still there means nothing is wrong with you. The memories will settle-Beckett said the device might have stirred things up, but in a few days it will all be back to normal. And getting back to your normal routines will only speed that up."
"Or else I'll end up blowing up Atlantis because of a stupid mistake."
"You won't."
Rodney's words were quiet, desperate, resigned. "I don't know that."
"I do. You've trusted me before with your life. Will you trust me now?"
He looked up, holding Sheppard's gaze for a long moment, neither man speaking, the room silent except for their breaths.
Rodney closed his eyes and turned away, a reluctant nod his answer.
Sheppard let go of his arms with a short squeeze. "Try to get some sleep. Go to the labs tomorrow, and watch how people react to you. Come find me if it gets to be too much, or if you just need someone to talk at for a bit."
"But I'm-"
"Trust me."
Rodney sighed, nodding again. "Fine."
"Good. I'll let you think for a bit. Just, for God's sake promise me you won't try to turn anything on down here. And on the off chance Beckett wanders down, call Lorne." Sheppard started heading towards the transporter.
"Sheppard?"
He turned to look back. "Yeah?"
"While I still think this is not only a waste of time, but a very bad idea, thank you."
Sheppard grinned at him. "So this will be the one time I get to prove the Great Rodney McKay wrong. I can live with that. And you're welcome."
McKay scowled as the Colonel walked down the corridor, vanishing quickly from his view. He sighed, moving a few feet back to the chair he'd been sitting in before, and dropping into it.
He still needed some more time to wade through his memories and this was as good as place as any.
***
TBC