Fic: Diploma (McShep, NC-17) Part 23/25
Title Diploma
Part23/?
Author Internetname
Rating NC-17
Pairing John/Rodney
Summary Sentinel X/O: Rodney McKay and John Sheppard have figured out how to live the lives they want, and things should probably stay that way.
Warnings Slash
Word Count for Story So Far 38,662
Disclaimer Er...if they were mine they'd still be on TV.
Kind of a short segment, sorry.
Part One is Here
Part 22 is Here
Dr. Grace Hewston looked at her tablet. She had only five minutes before she would be dead, but she didn't know exactly how long five minutes would be.
Her best guess was four months. Give or take a month.
Unlike so many on the expedition, she was not only a theist, but a Christian. So it was to Jesus she prayed...sort of.
Please, God, please, Jesus, please help McKay realize something is wrong.
***
It was difficult to explain later just why he had agreed with everything Dr. Sandburg had ordered him to do.
No, that was just the thing, wasn't it? He hadn't ordered anything. He had only suggested.
"I think it would be a great idea to see the schematics on the satellite before we launch, don't you think so, Rodney?"
"You know, if this Wraith has been alive for ten thousand years, we’d better pack more serious firepower. Don't you agree, Rodney?"
"Abrams and Gall certainly deserve to see the satellite, but we'd do better having them come on the next trip, right, Rodney?"
Yes, Rodney. No, Rodney. Why don't you bend over and kiss your right buttock, Rodney?
No, that wasn't fair. And Sandburg, damn him, demanded fairness. He was tempted to shove a flea in Zelenka's ear and set the Czech bastard on the man. (Did he really think people didn't know Radek was longing for a Sentinel?)
He could slide Kavanagh a note, Dear Kevin. I love you. Do you love me? Check this box. Signed, Yer Gide.
But the real pisser, the absolute killer, was that even though Rodney knew he was being manipulated by a powerful and talented Guide, even though he completely understood exactly how Sandburg was doing it, he just couldn't really couldn't bring himself to care all that much.
Frankly, he was fairly certain that right now rat bastard Dave Foley could get a Nobel Prize and he wouldn't care all that much. It was quite possible his arms could fall off and he wouldn’t care all that much.
Everything was John Patrick Sheppard.
Everything was John.
Warm, caring, careful, desperate John.
As he'd feared, John was, no question, the strongest man he had ever met. One of the strongest men ever to be born. He was one of those who wouldn't crack, never, ever.
The whole thing worried the fuck out of him.
He'd had no idea that anyone could hate themselves so much before he had slid himself into John's mind. He had no idea if the love he felt for his Sentinel could ever be enough to fill that abyss of John's self-loathing.
No, not loathing. John didn't hate himself, really.He was just constantly riding himself, berating himself, pissed off that he wasn't perfect, wasn't saving everyone, wasn't God and The Guy and the Terminator all rolled into one.
How did he live with it? Rodney wondered again, lost now in that feeling of a cavernous room where every whisper echoed, yet no means known to mankind could take away the chill.
His Sentinel hurt every day, every moment someone suffered or died and he couldn't stop it. All Rodney could offer was...
Well, obviously not enough. He loved John with everything he had, a passion burning so brightly he was blinded by his own abilities, but no light in the universe could extinguish that particular black hole of John's despair.
The door to Lab Six opened without warning, which meant the city was comfortable letting whoever it was through.
Rodney, however, felt anything but comfortable as Ronon stalked into the lab, looking like he could strangle/mangle/mutilate anything in his path, including a kitten nursing kittens if they didn't know better than to get out of his way.
"Ronon!" McKay greeted, all the while thinking Norm! and wishing he could stop.
"McKay," the behemoth breathed, vibrating the floor. "Sheppard says it's just the two of you on the next mission."
Rodney tried his best to stand straighter. "Yes. Well, yes. I, er, but with the Sentinel team here. I mean, er, Ellison and Sandwich."
Ronon knew him too well to respond to the obvious distraction.
"I want to come."
"And you're asking me?" McKay asked, pressing against his own chest.
"You're the Guide."
"So?"
"If you ask Sheppard, he'll say yes."
"But I can't ask him. I can't ask him for anything if I don't mean it."
Ronon growled.
"Not that I wouldn't personally like to have you with us!" Rodney said. "I mean, why wouldn't I?"
"Then ask."
McKay took a breath, found his center, and looked into that bearded, incredibly intimidating face. "If I question my Sentinel about his methods of defending me, I'm implying that I don't trust him, that I know better about keeping us safe than he does. I won't do that to John."
Ronon scowled, unscowled, and then actually smiled, ever so slightly.
"Then don't ask him because you doubt him. Ask him because I've asked you for a favor."
"A favor?"
"Yeah."
"How is your coming with us a favor?"
"Someday," Ronon said, "and that day may never come, I'll call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this justice as a gift."
For two full seconds McKay stared at him. Then in a move that would later baffle him at its boldness, he smacked the Setedan on the arm.
"You fucker!"
Part 24 is Here