But Never The Nights pt. 13/15 (McShep, R)
Title: But Never The Nights - Day One-Hundred And Forty-Three
Author: lavvyan
Summary: Home.
Notes: Don't be disappointed - coincidences work like that. This thing has now 52,000 words on 73 pages, which makes it more than twice as big as the longest story I've written so far. The next part will probably have to be posted in two instalments, as there is just no way I'll get it done with the usual three pages for each POV. Well. Thirteen down, two to go, that's got to be worth something, right? Right?
~~~
Day One-Hundred And Forty-Three.
Running water was a very, very neat thing. And with the reservoir on the roof and the sun shining down on it all day for a week, the water was almost lukewarm, making for a nice, cool bath to get rid of the sweat and grime of the last two days. After a long afternoon spent carefully testing out the various chemicals kept in the pharmacy, he had identified enough of them to make his own soap, nicely foaming and much better for his sensitive skin than the crude stuff the locals had been using.
"That's because I'm a genius, and they were practically Neanderthals." Rodney grinned smugly, rinsed off the foam, and finally felt like a human being again, freshly shaven and squeaky clean. The sun was already shining brightly, birds fluttering through the air, and he hurried through breakfast, swallowing the last bite as he was stepping outside. If he walked briskly, it would still take him at least two hours to the Gate, and he wanted to get there and back again before the heat became unbearable.
No use to take the duffel on such a short trip, though, and so he had just fitted a length of string to his water bottle and slung it over his head and one arm. It was swinging by his side as he left. The air was still cool, and he enjoyed the fresh clean scent as he walked, keeping up a swift pace.
"You'll have to check out your field today," he reminded himself. "See if perhaps we'll get to eat fresh vegetables in a few months." Which would be a very nice thing. Not that he had a problem with canned or frozen goods, but he knew full well that they wouldn't last him forever. And he didn't want to starve to death, thank you very much.
It took him a little less than two and a half hours to get to the Gate, and he was a little out of breath by the time he arrived. He took that one last turn - and stopped. And blinked. And blinked again.
It didn't change the view.
"Oh God, now I'm crazy," he breathed, staring at the apparition before him. There were people around the Gate, unloading equipment from a puddle jumper, each of the faces achingly familiar, some even more than others. Radek was there, holding a toolbox and talking with a man who had his back turned to Rodney, but he would have recognized that particular set of shoulders anywhere. Of course he would have, his imagination was nothing if not realistic, he thought as Ronon and Teyla stepped out of the jumper. Then Radek looked up, still talking, and their eyes met. The toolbox fell from his fingers, clattering on the ground as they stared at each other in shocked surprise. Sheppard turned, and Rodney blinked again, lost for a moment as the expression on his friend's face turned from curiosity into disbelief, and finally into something that looked like hope.
For a second, everyone seemed frozen. Then Sheppard took a deep breath and started walking towards him, faster, and faster still, jogging the last few steps. Rodney just stood, staring dumbly at the approaching man, heart pounding in his ears. Sheppard was panting a little when he came to a halt in front of him, eyes not once straying from Rodney's face.
They stared at each other for a long moment, until hesitantly, Sheppard lifted his right hand to rest it carefully on Rodney's left shoulder.
"Hey, buddy," he said quietly. Both of them swallowed at the contact, fingers digging increasingly painfully into muscle, but Rodney didn't care. Sheppard's hand was warm on his shoulder, and the man himself looked tired, pale, dark smudges under his eyes - not at all like Rodney had imagined him to be. It sure made this damn convincing, but-
"I'm hallucinating, aren't I? The isolation has finally fried my brain, and now I'm having sensory hallucinations. Or maybe it's sunstroke, I knew I shouldn't have been out walking in that heat, but it was really shady under the trees, and I-"
"Rodney," Sheppard interrupted him, his voice a little shaky. "Rodney, I'm real. This is… we're real."
"You're real," Rodney repeated stupidly. Then it finally sank in. "Oh God, you're real, you're here, you're really here!"
He reached up, clamping his right hand around Sheppard's forearm. "How, how did you know, how did you find me, I didn't think… I thought I…" he broke off, flailing around for the right words, and Sheppard laughed.
"Coincidence. Sheer, stupid coincidence." He was grinning so hard that it had to hurt, but didn't seem to care, instead looking relieved, happy, his eyes bright.
"Coincidence? But-" And now other people were surrounding him, reaching out to pat him on his shoulder, his back, a cheerful litany of "Good to see you, Dr. McKay." Then Radek was there, blue eyes swimming behind his glasses as he shook his hand fiercely, muttering something in Czech that could have meant 'Thank God you're back' or 'About damn time, you stupid asshole'.
"I-" It was overwhelming. Teyla's warm presence at his back, hand gently resting between his shoulder blades. Ronon leaning against a rock, grinning as he tossed him a power bar. Rodney caught it, fumbling, staring at the foil wrap like it was the first time he'd ever seen one.
"Rodney."
He looked up, meeting Sheppard's smiling eyes.
"What say we go home?"
Home. He could go home now.
He could go home… now.
"Yes, I-" Rodney swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Actually, I think that might be a pretty good idea."
He smiled shakily, and they were halfway at the jumper when he remembered.
"Ah, no, wait, I, uh. I have to get something," he said, and would have stopped if not for Sheppard's hand on his elbow.
"From the town?" At Rodney's nod, Sheppard turned to the hovering group around them. "Get the gear ready, we'll take the jumper."
A few affirmative noises, and the people fanned out again, collecting everything they had just unloaded, grinning at each other. Radek wouldn't leave Rodney's side though, just like Ronon and Teyla, all three of them smiling and telling him how glad they were to have him back, even the Runner. Sheppard just smiled as he sat down in the pilot's chair, the jumper powering up around him with a gentle hum Rodney had thought he'd never hear again. He closed his eyes, listening to the deep rumble of Ronon's voice as the Satedan told him about those new fruits they had been trading with the Alloreen, and how they made for a delicious dessert. Teyla chided him for only talking about food when Dr. McKay looked so thin, and Radek kept telling him how he could gladly have his job back. It wasn't even ten minutes to the town, but they felt like a small eternity, with Rodney basking in the warmth of his friends' presence, drunk with happiness at the prospect of going home, with the feeling of being safe.
"We're here," Sheppard announced, hovering above the small town.
"Ah, yes. You can land there." Rodney pointed. "That's my… uh, that's where I was living for the last few months."
Their faces fell, and he felt a little bad for reminding them. On the other hand, they had obviously been missing him, missing him, and that alone was more than enough to make him smile again. More than he had expected.
Oh God, he could go home. He wondered how often he would have to repeat that thought until it didn't sound surreal anymore.
"I'll just, um. Go upstairs, get my… stuff. You can, uh, look around a bit, if you want to."
"Sure, Rodney," Sheppard said easily, "take your time. We're not going anywhere."
No, they weren't, were they? Rodney nodded, still hesitating to let his friends out of his sight, then he mentally called himself an idiot, and went upstairs. His diary was on the desk in his study, the loose pages neatly stacked up next to it. He picked them up and quickly sorted through them before carefully placing them in the back of the book. Only five pages were left on his desk, half covering the ink stains he had never gotten out of the polished surface. Five pages filled with point after point after point. Thirty-one for the birds. He picked them up, stared at the first page, eyes flickering over the words he had written. Then he took the edges of the papers, and tore them carefully, again, and again, until there was nothing left but neat little pieces. He tossed them into the cold fireplace, picked up his book, and left the room without looking back.
"We can go now," he said when he returned to the others, who were waiting for him right next to the stairs. "I'm… done here."
He thought he heard Sheppard mutter, "Yes, you are," but wasn't quite sure. The way back to the Gate was spent with his friends still talking, none of them asking any questions about his time on the planet or the book in his hands, for which he was grateful. They picked up the various boxes of equipment, and then Rodney dialled Atlantis' Gate address with only slightly shaking fingers, letting out a small sigh as the wormhole established itself with the familiar kawoosh. Sheppard patted his arm, shooting him a knowing glance before he tapped his radio.
"Atlantis, this is Jumper One, we're on our way home."
"John." Elizabeth's surprise was clear even through the slight static. "We didn't expect you back so soon."
"Well, we kinda found what we were looking for."
There was a pause.
"Understood. We'll be waiting."
"Here we go," Sheppard said with a quick grin. Rodney looked through the jumper's windshield. Blue trees, a multitude of birds, the small town hidden between the hills, none of which he would ever see again.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly as they slid into the event horizon.
He wouldn't miss a thing.
Elizabeth surprised him with a delighted hug as soon as he stepped out of the jumper, hanging on tightly before she let him go, her eyes bright.
"Welcome home, Rodney," she said warmly, before she stepped aside and Carson took her place. The Scot's eyes were suspiciously watery as they hugged briefly, and he muttered something Rodney couldn't quite make out.
"Yes, it's nice to know I'm still appreciated," he answered, which earned him a frown from Radek and a short laugh from Elizabeth.
"Of course you are. I don't know how we managed to survive without you." He could see that she was only half joking.
"Yes, yes, understandable of course, but I don't suppose the gratitude over my miraculous return will get me out of the debriefing."
"No," she answered dryly, and then hugged him again. "Infirmary first, though."
Carson was positively ecstatic, celebrating Rodney's return with every single medical check-up he could think of, Rodney's team lingering nearby through all of the non-invasive stuff. There was a brief moment of silence when he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the still deep red scars on his chest. Then Sheppard cursed, hands balled into fists.
"Ah, it might satisfy you to know that I got back at them for that," Rodney offered quietly, trying for a brave smile that just turned out lopsided.
"Good," Sheppard hissed, and that was the last thing he said until the end of the long, long, very long debriefing, apart from a quiet "God, Rodney," when they had gotten to the point where he'd had to blow up the Wraith dart, and with it his only chance to ever get back.
"I still don't know what you were doing on that planet," he said when he had finished his story, desperate to break the heavy silence in the briefing room.
"We were on a mission," Teyla answered, nodding towards Sheppard. "Colonel Sheppard found your GDO at the dialling device. When we could not find you, we thought you had left for another world, so we came back hoping that Dr. Zelenka might be able to locate the address of your destination."
"A redial? You've found it?" At Zelenka's denial, Rodney shook his head. "Oh. Huh."
"There was not much time to work on it," Radek started to defend himself, misunderstanding Rodney's disappointment. "Now that you are back, we can-"
"No, I, uh, I'm sure that if there was one, you would have found it by now."
Radek's face flushed at the implied praise, a picture of pleased surprise, but Elizabeth broke into the discussion before they could take it any further.
"Rodney, I'm sure you must be tired. Why don't you get some rest, you can catch up tomorrow."
As if to prove her point, Rodney had to yawn.
"Sure." He paused. "Where, uh, where do you want me to…?"
"How about your quarters?" Sheppard asked, suddenly at his side, hand under his elbow, helping him up. "That sound good to you?"
"Um. You didn't, I mean-"
"No, we didn't reassign them." Sheppard shared a quick glance with Elizabeth that Rodney couldn't quite decipher. And he didn't care, not really, not now, because he was home, home, and he still couldn't believe it. Had to touch the walls of the corridors they walked through. Had to shake the hand of every person who welcomed him back, grinning like a loon. Had to caress the panel next to his door when he thought Sheppard wasn't looking, only to have his wrist caught in a firm grip. When he looked up, the other man was staring at him with quiet intensity.
"Believe it. It's real."
Atlantis. He sighed.
"I know. I just- this is really, really sudden."
"Yeah, no kidding." Sheppard's soft agreement made him wonder for the first time how hard his 'death' might have hit the people around here. Sure, everybody was happy to see him - did that mean they had been mourning him? For real?
Before the thought could sink in, though, Sheppard let go of his wrist and opened the door, gesturing at the doorway.
"Welcome home."
And it was. The room so familiar that simply breathing seemed to hurt for a moment as he took in the sight, his bed, his pictures, his laptop, his… his really, really cluttered desk.
"What's all this?" he asked, picking up a wooden puddle jumper and turning it over in his hand, bemused. 'Gateship One', it read on the side.
Sheppard cleared his throat.
"Say-goodbye stuff," he said quietly.
"What?" He didn't get it, frowning at his desk, picking up stuff at random. Food, coffee, little pieces of wood, carved into Stargates, puddle jumpers, displays of the city. Bits of Ancient devices, most of them broken. He remembered some of them, each associated with its own weird story.
Letters.
Say-goodbye stuff.
"Oh," he whispered, his voice strangled.
"Yeah."
Sheppard fidgeted at his side, looking everywhere but at him, finally clearing his throat.
"I… guess I'll leave you alone now." He grinned, but it looked strained. "Sleep tight, Rodney."
"Yes, um. You, too."
Sheppard nodded, picking up a second laptop Rodney hadn't even noticed, and turned. Rodney was still staring at his... memorial, when Sheppard's voice came from the door.
"Rodney... it is good to have you back."
"Of course it is."
They shared a quick grin, and then Sheppard left.
It was strange calling him Sheppard again, when for the last five months he had been John, if only in Rodney's head. It would probably take a while for him to get used to it.
A lot of things would take a while to get used to. Again.
He looked at his letters again, feeling a morbid curiosity. Reaching out for the closest one, he yawned again.
Figured. And if he started reading now, he'd stay up the whole night. He'd have to worry about his place in this city tomorrow - now, he was just too tired.
Strangely enough, his bed smelled like John. He was still wondering about that when he fell asleep.
~~~
He felt like shit when his wristwatch finally started to beep. He could still hear Rodney's voice coming from his laptop, talking softly in the background like it had been all night, with John listening and trying to convince himself that Rodney had escaped, that Rodney was alive, had probably gated to the Varanian homeworld with a few surviving townspeople, or maybe to one of their allies.
Only, if he had, how come nobody had ever tried to contact them? Why had nobody ever dialled in to say, "Oh, and if you are looking for your Dr. McKay, you can come and pick him up"? The dull thuds of… things slamming against the shield were echoing in his mind again, and he had to turn up the volume to drown them out. What if Rodney hadn't known that his GDO was broken, what if-
He didn’t want to go there. He really, really didn't.
"Are you ready?"
This time, nobody rolled their eyes at the question. Instead, what he got were grim nods, determined faces. The three scientists and four Marines would go first, led by Radek. John, Teyla and Ronon would follow with the jumper, the crates with equipment already stacked up and secured. After they had unloaded, his team would do a sweep of the area, concentrating on the jumper's life signs detector while Radek and his people worked on the DHD. John hoped that in a few hours, if they didn't find Rodney somewhere, they would at least know where he might have gone to.
He tried to tune out thoughts like it's been almost five months or what if he's been hurt or Rodney's allergic to practically everything, circling around the matter but shying away from the dreaded word. As long as there wasn't any proof that Rodney was… not there, John could cling to hope.
He still didn't take a physician with them. Deep inside, he could admit at least to himself that this wasn't search & rescue. Just search.
Nobody questioned him.
"Alright. Go ahead, we'll meet you on the planet."
He watched them step through the Gate, then he turned and walked to the closest transporter that would take him to the jumper bay. Elizabeth was waiting there.
"Go find him," she said, and he nodded.
"I will."
The scientists were waiting for them on the blue world, starting to unload the jumper as soon as they had landed, talking and planning and inevitably arguing. John listened to them while he helped, growing increasingly impatient when all they were talking about were the hundred little things that would make their task impossible. There was no redial function in the first place. There was, but you could just dial the previous address, and nothing more. You had to find the right combination of symbols to find access the DHD's memory. There was no memory. There was, but you had to rewire the crystals. No, re-route the energy flow. No, use a remote control they hadn't found yet.
In the end, he had to bite his tongue to snap at them. Radek had no such qualms.
"You," he finally said irritably, poking a finger at the scientist who had dared to claim that the DHD had no redial, "I have no use for you. When you have finished unloading these crates, go collect flowers for the biologists. You," aimed at the one all for rewiring the dialling device, "as soon as we get back, remind me to give a crash course in basic engineering."
"I just said-"
"I heard what you said. It was stupid," Zelenka spat in a tone that would have made Rodney proud. "And you." He pointed at the idiot with the remote control idea. "Do not open your mouth again until I tell you to. Ah!" he added when the man opened his mouth to argue. "Wasting oxygen. We do not want that. Colonel, you help me open the DHD."
Radek picked up a toolbox and went over to the dialling device. John followed him.
"Those are the best you've got?"
"It is sad, I know. Earth keeps the intelligent ones for itself, I fear." Radek shook his head.
"But there is a redial, right?" There had to be. If there was any chance to find a trace of Rodney, the DHD was it. "Are you sure you'll find it this time?"
The Czech pushed up his glasses, and shrugged.
"As sure as we can be with an unknown mechanism. I think I know where I went wrong last time, but I cannot be sure." He sighed, eyes leaving John's face and sweeping over their surroundings. "These are good people, Colonel, but the DHD is an incredibly complex mechanism, and we can hardly just-"
Zelenka stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as he stared at something behind John. His mouth hang open in almost comical surprise, and his toolbox hit the ground with a clunk.
John turned.
There was someone standing on the road that led to the town, staring at them like they were an apparition, and for one crazy moment, John thought that one of the Varanians had survived the culling. Then his brain kicked in, finding the familiar hunch of shoulders, the crooked mouth, the shocked face, the wide eyes that were blinking at him. Around him, the chatter died down.
It can't be, it can't be, his mind insisted. That almost slender man with his sun-kissed skin couldn't possibly be- it couldn't be that easy, not after all this time, not after what he had gone through.
Could it?
He took a deep breath, trying to stomp down on the hope that was blooming inside him, not daring to believe, not yet. He started to walk, automatically, keeping his eyes on the man's face, and the closer he got, the clearer it became, and it looked like, it looked like-
Rodney.
Rodney, clad in a simple shirt and trousers; Rodney, who was still staring at him in disbelief; Rodney, warm and safe and alive, right in front of him, close enough to touch. Close enough to make it real.
John hesitated, then he put his hand on Rodney's shoulder. Funny, all the times he had dreamed of this, and he still didn't know what to say. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed.
"Hey, buddy," he managed, and what a stupid thing to say that was, when this was Rodney, Rodney, who should have been dead but wasn't. He was dimly aware that his fingers were clenching around Rodney's shoulder, painfully so, but couldn't bring himself to care between his wish to punch the scientist's lights out for scaring him like that, or hugging him and never let him go again.
Then Rodney opened his mouth, and the words just tumbled out.
"I'm hallucinating, aren't I? The isolation has finally fried my brain, and now I'm having sensory hallucinations. Or maybe it's sunstroke, I knew I shouldn't have been out walking in that heat, but it was really shady under the trees, and I-"
"Rodney," John interrupted, and oh God, how he had missed this. How he had missed him. "Rodney," he said again, just because he could, "I'm real, this is… we're real."
"You're real," Rodney echoed, like he still couldn't believe it, then his eyes widened. "Oh God, you're real, you're here, you're really here!"
Rodney's hand clamped down on his forearm, and his time on this planet must have made him stronger, because, fuck, that hurt. And yeah, that had to be the reason his eyes were burning, because why should he want to cry when Rodney was here, healthy and safe, and babbling again?
"How, how did you know, how did you find me, I didn't think… I thought I…" He broke off, and John laughed at his frustrated expression.
"Coincidence," he answered. "Sheer, stupid coincidence." And he grinned, like he didn't have a care in the world, and well, he didn't. Not right now. Not anymore. Thank you, he thought at whatever deity might be listening. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"Coincidence? But-" And John lost contact, had to let go of his friend as the others swarmed around him, grinning and welcoming Rodney back. Radek looked like he might break into tears any moment as he shook Rodney's hand, but seemed determined not to lose it. Teyla was wearing what had to be the brightest smile, ever, as she put her hand on Rodney's back, and Ronon, pragmatic as always, greeted their lost scientist with a power bar. Rodney looked like he might fall down any minute, and John decided that enough was enough.
"Rodney," he called, smiling as he met his friend's wide eyes. "What say we go home?"
And wasn't that the kicker? All this time, and he could play it cool, invite Rodney back to Atlantis with fake casualness when what he really wanted was touch the other man, reassure himself that yes, this was real. But it was okay, because Rodney was back, Rodney would come home, and that was enough. More than enough, it was perfect.
"Yes, I… Actually, I think that might be a pretty good idea," Rodney was saying, and John's smile widened. He had the other people pack up their gear while his team followed Rodney into the jumper, thinking that whatever it was his friend couldn't leave behind, it couldn't take more than half an hour to get it.
"We're here," he said when they arrived at the town, still smiling, inwardly basking at how relaxed Rodney was looking, how happy he seemed to be back with them. None of them could stop grinning, at least not until the scientist innocently reminded them of how long he had been here, alone, while they had been convinced he was dead.
Five months. Almost five months of pain and loneliness, and that was just John, who had still had his old life, familiar faces around him, people who cared. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it had been like to be stranded here, alone, abandoned. And yes, it had been pure coincidence that they had stumbled over this planet, but he couldn't stop that niggling little voice that kept insisting if they hadn't given up so soon, if they had looked harder, if he hadn't lost it and have Elizabeth send him back to Earth to get a grip, if they hadn't wasted all that time, they might have found Rodney a lot sooner.
It was stupid, and yet… And yet. He looked into the cluttered kitchen Rodney had made his own over the last few months, into the surprisingly neat living room, never straying far from the stairs. The others were hovering as well, looking at him with a strange mixture of guilt and silent apology, straightening when Rodney returned, a thick book in his hands.
"We can go now. I'm… done here."
"Yes, you are," John muttered under his breath. If he had his way, this planet would be locked right out of the database.
He let Rodney dial home, noticing how the scientist's hands were shaking as he pushed down the buttons, patting his arm to let him know it was alright to be nervous. A quick exchange with Elizabeth, and they could bring Atlantis' prodigal son back home.
"Here we go," he grinned, hovering in front of the event horizon, and Rodney nodded.
"Yeah."
Carson whisked Rodney off to his infirmary almost immediately, but John would be damned if he let his team be separated just yet. It wouldn't be the first check-up any of them had spent with the others as company, and besides, this was a special occasion. Carson poked, and prodded, and drew blood, and finally had Rodney pull off his shirt so he could start the real examination. The good-natured prattle around them died down, but it wasn't the prominent ribs that were making John's blood pressure rise.
Five angry red scars scattered in a half-circle across Rodney's chest. A sixth one, oval, right in the middle.
Feeding marks.
Feeding marks, and John cursed helplessly as the reality of Rodney's culling slammed home, the evidence of what the scientist had gone through. The Wraith who had done this was probably dead, or else Rodney wouldn't be here, but that didn't stop John from wanting to kill it all over again.
"Ah, it might satisfy you to know that I got back at them for that." Rodney's smile was hesitant, unsure, and again John wanted nothing more than to take him into his arms and keep him there.
"Good," he hissed instead, because what else was there to say? And then the debriefing started, and it all just got worse. Fed on by the Wraith. Walking through ice and snow for almost two days, lost and hurt, only to find that he couldn't go home. Russian roulette in the local pharmacy when it became clear that the infection from the wounds on his chest was slowly killing him. Trying to survive on his own on a foreign world with a tenacity and resourcefulness that really shouldn't have surprised anyone. Blowing up his only means to get home, to kill the remaining Wraith, and "God, Rodney," to keep them safe. Using up his one and only epi-pen when it turned out that he was allergic to the fifteen billion birds that had come along with spring.
When Rodney had finished his story, hours had passed, and John didn't know what to say.
"I still don't know what you were doing on that planet," Rodney's voice broke the silence, and Teyla gave him a brief explanation how they had literally stumbled over his GDO. Then Radek and Rodney jumped into their usual spiel like they were just talking about another project they had started only yesterday, until Elizabeth stopped them by sending Rodney off to bed.
"Sure," Rodney said, then he hesitated. "Where, uh, where do you want me to…?"
"How about your quarters?" John asked, helping him out of his chair, using the scientist's fatigue as an excuse to touch him. "That sound good to you?"
Rodney blinked at him in surprise.
"Um. You didn't, I mean-"
"No, we didn't reassign them." He glanced over at Elizabeth, and she had the grace to look a little guilty. As well she should for trying to make him let go.
The way to Rodney's quarters was a slow one, with everybody wanting to shake the scientist's hand. Rodney let them, touching the walls, the people, his own door, grinning wildly, even as John caught his wrist.
"Believe it. It's real," he said quietly, understanding just too well what the other man had to be going through. And sure enough, Rodney sighed.
"I know. I just- this is really, really sudden."
"Yeah, no kidding." Yesterday morning, Rodney had been dead, and John had been coping. A few hours ago, the only way to hear his friend's voice had been Jeannie's video files. It was all… too much, and he had to let go of Rodney's wrist and hide his unexpected bout of completely irrational panic behind a grand gesture at the open door before them.
"Welcome home."
He followed Rodney into the room, wondering how the hell he should get his laptop out of there without raising questions he wasn't quite prepared to answer. He was composing a short speech of Rodney's quarters being closer to his own room than his office, when Rodney stepped over to his crowded desk and picked up one of the wooden jumpers.
"What's all this?" he asked, confused.
John had to swallow around the lump in his throat.
"Say-goodbye stuff," he answered, his voice unsteady, but Rodney didn't seem to notice.
"What?" The scientist kept staring at the small mountain of things people had left on his doorstep, his eyes slowly widening as the penny dropped.
"Oh," he croaked.
"Yeah."
John didn't know where to look, what to do, just that he had to get out of there before he lost it.
"I… guess I'll leave you alone now," he offered lamely, trying for a grin and knowing that he failed miserably. "Sleep tight, Rodney."
"Yes, um. You too."
Yeah, like hell he would. John nodded, and swiped up his laptop, all but running to the door, slowing down when he noticed that Rodney wasn't even looking at him, standing forlornly in the middle of the room and staring at all the stuff on his desk.
"Rodney," he started, and paused, unsure what he could say to lighten the mood. "It is good to have you back," he said sincerely, and Rodney looked up at that.
"Of course it is," he retorted, and that was so typical that John shared a genuine grin with his friend. Right before he turned, and pretty much fled the room, clutching his laptop in a white-knuckled grip, breathing hard when his own door closed behind him. For a moment, he just leaned against the wall, eyes closed.
He had to be crazy. Rodney was back, happily so, and John was… what? Afraid that his friend might disappear again, that he might wake up and discover it had all been a dream? Or maybe frustrated that he couldn't touch Rodney the way he wanted to, that all the sweet nonsense he had imagine they'd share was just that, his imagination? Disappointed that while Rodney had seemed to be delighted to see him, it was just relief to be able to go home, and not because they had something special?
And yes, maybe he was crazy, his own giddy feeling of happiness dissolving into bitter disillusionment, into anger at himself and his stupid expectations, before settling down as a low sense of dread. How would Rodney react when he found out that John had been sleeping in his room? That he had basically broken down, sent home like an ill-disciplined schoolboy and returning with new-found stubbornness to keep Rodney's memory alive; obsessed and needy? And how was he supposed to take it back now, to live and settle down with friendship when over the last few months, he had more or less openly acknowledged that, at least for him, it was love?
This whole situation was completely fucked, he decided, lying in his own bed, staring at the ceiling.
He wasn't surprised that sleep eluded him. He just didn't know what to do about it anymore.
~~~
tbc.
Author: lavvyan
Summary: Home.
Notes: Don't be disappointed - coincidences work like that. This thing has now 52,000 words on 73 pages, which makes it more than twice as big as the longest story I've written so far. The next part will probably have to be posted in two instalments, as there is just no way I'll get it done with the usual three pages for each POV. Well. Thirteen down, two to go, that's got to be worth something, right? Right?
~~~
Day One-Hundred And Forty-Three.
Running water was a very, very neat thing. And with the reservoir on the roof and the sun shining down on it all day for a week, the water was almost lukewarm, making for a nice, cool bath to get rid of the sweat and grime of the last two days. After a long afternoon spent carefully testing out the various chemicals kept in the pharmacy, he had identified enough of them to make his own soap, nicely foaming and much better for his sensitive skin than the crude stuff the locals had been using.
"That's because I'm a genius, and they were practically Neanderthals." Rodney grinned smugly, rinsed off the foam, and finally felt like a human being again, freshly shaven and squeaky clean. The sun was already shining brightly, birds fluttering through the air, and he hurried through breakfast, swallowing the last bite as he was stepping outside. If he walked briskly, it would still take him at least two hours to the Gate, and he wanted to get there and back again before the heat became unbearable.
No use to take the duffel on such a short trip, though, and so he had just fitted a length of string to his water bottle and slung it over his head and one arm. It was swinging by his side as he left. The air was still cool, and he enjoyed the fresh clean scent as he walked, keeping up a swift pace.
"You'll have to check out your field today," he reminded himself. "See if perhaps we'll get to eat fresh vegetables in a few months." Which would be a very nice thing. Not that he had a problem with canned or frozen goods, but he knew full well that they wouldn't last him forever. And he didn't want to starve to death, thank you very much.
It took him a little less than two and a half hours to get to the Gate, and he was a little out of breath by the time he arrived. He took that one last turn - and stopped. And blinked. And blinked again.
It didn't change the view.
"Oh God, now I'm crazy," he breathed, staring at the apparition before him. There were people around the Gate, unloading equipment from a puddle jumper, each of the faces achingly familiar, some even more than others. Radek was there, holding a toolbox and talking with a man who had his back turned to Rodney, but he would have recognized that particular set of shoulders anywhere. Of course he would have, his imagination was nothing if not realistic, he thought as Ronon and Teyla stepped out of the jumper. Then Radek looked up, still talking, and their eyes met. The toolbox fell from his fingers, clattering on the ground as they stared at each other in shocked surprise. Sheppard turned, and Rodney blinked again, lost for a moment as the expression on his friend's face turned from curiosity into disbelief, and finally into something that looked like hope.
For a second, everyone seemed frozen. Then Sheppard took a deep breath and started walking towards him, faster, and faster still, jogging the last few steps. Rodney just stood, staring dumbly at the approaching man, heart pounding in his ears. Sheppard was panting a little when he came to a halt in front of him, eyes not once straying from Rodney's face.
They stared at each other for a long moment, until hesitantly, Sheppard lifted his right hand to rest it carefully on Rodney's left shoulder.
"Hey, buddy," he said quietly. Both of them swallowed at the contact, fingers digging increasingly painfully into muscle, but Rodney didn't care. Sheppard's hand was warm on his shoulder, and the man himself looked tired, pale, dark smudges under his eyes - not at all like Rodney had imagined him to be. It sure made this damn convincing, but-
"I'm hallucinating, aren't I? The isolation has finally fried my brain, and now I'm having sensory hallucinations. Or maybe it's sunstroke, I knew I shouldn't have been out walking in that heat, but it was really shady under the trees, and I-"
"Rodney," Sheppard interrupted him, his voice a little shaky. "Rodney, I'm real. This is… we're real."
"You're real," Rodney repeated stupidly. Then it finally sank in. "Oh God, you're real, you're here, you're really here!"
He reached up, clamping his right hand around Sheppard's forearm. "How, how did you know, how did you find me, I didn't think… I thought I…" he broke off, flailing around for the right words, and Sheppard laughed.
"Coincidence. Sheer, stupid coincidence." He was grinning so hard that it had to hurt, but didn't seem to care, instead looking relieved, happy, his eyes bright.
"Coincidence? But-" And now other people were surrounding him, reaching out to pat him on his shoulder, his back, a cheerful litany of "Good to see you, Dr. McKay." Then Radek was there, blue eyes swimming behind his glasses as he shook his hand fiercely, muttering something in Czech that could have meant 'Thank God you're back' or 'About damn time, you stupid asshole'.
"I-" It was overwhelming. Teyla's warm presence at his back, hand gently resting between his shoulder blades. Ronon leaning against a rock, grinning as he tossed him a power bar. Rodney caught it, fumbling, staring at the foil wrap like it was the first time he'd ever seen one.
"Rodney."
He looked up, meeting Sheppard's smiling eyes.
"What say we go home?"
Home. He could go home now.
He could go home… now.
"Yes, I-" Rodney swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Actually, I think that might be a pretty good idea."
He smiled shakily, and they were halfway at the jumper when he remembered.
"Ah, no, wait, I, uh. I have to get something," he said, and would have stopped if not for Sheppard's hand on his elbow.
"From the town?" At Rodney's nod, Sheppard turned to the hovering group around them. "Get the gear ready, we'll take the jumper."
A few affirmative noises, and the people fanned out again, collecting everything they had just unloaded, grinning at each other. Radek wouldn't leave Rodney's side though, just like Ronon and Teyla, all three of them smiling and telling him how glad they were to have him back, even the Runner. Sheppard just smiled as he sat down in the pilot's chair, the jumper powering up around him with a gentle hum Rodney had thought he'd never hear again. He closed his eyes, listening to the deep rumble of Ronon's voice as the Satedan told him about those new fruits they had been trading with the Alloreen, and how they made for a delicious dessert. Teyla chided him for only talking about food when Dr. McKay looked so thin, and Radek kept telling him how he could gladly have his job back. It wasn't even ten minutes to the town, but they felt like a small eternity, with Rodney basking in the warmth of his friends' presence, drunk with happiness at the prospect of going home, with the feeling of being safe.
"We're here," Sheppard announced, hovering above the small town.
"Ah, yes. You can land there." Rodney pointed. "That's my… uh, that's where I was living for the last few months."
Their faces fell, and he felt a little bad for reminding them. On the other hand, they had obviously been missing him, missing him, and that alone was more than enough to make him smile again. More than he had expected.
Oh God, he could go home. He wondered how often he would have to repeat that thought until it didn't sound surreal anymore.
"I'll just, um. Go upstairs, get my… stuff. You can, uh, look around a bit, if you want to."
"Sure, Rodney," Sheppard said easily, "take your time. We're not going anywhere."
No, they weren't, were they? Rodney nodded, still hesitating to let his friends out of his sight, then he mentally called himself an idiot, and went upstairs. His diary was on the desk in his study, the loose pages neatly stacked up next to it. He picked them up and quickly sorted through them before carefully placing them in the back of the book. Only five pages were left on his desk, half covering the ink stains he had never gotten out of the polished surface. Five pages filled with point after point after point. Thirty-one for the birds. He picked them up, stared at the first page, eyes flickering over the words he had written. Then he took the edges of the papers, and tore them carefully, again, and again, until there was nothing left but neat little pieces. He tossed them into the cold fireplace, picked up his book, and left the room without looking back.
"We can go now," he said when he returned to the others, who were waiting for him right next to the stairs. "I'm… done here."
He thought he heard Sheppard mutter, "Yes, you are," but wasn't quite sure. The way back to the Gate was spent with his friends still talking, none of them asking any questions about his time on the planet or the book in his hands, for which he was grateful. They picked up the various boxes of equipment, and then Rodney dialled Atlantis' Gate address with only slightly shaking fingers, letting out a small sigh as the wormhole established itself with the familiar kawoosh. Sheppard patted his arm, shooting him a knowing glance before he tapped his radio.
"Atlantis, this is Jumper One, we're on our way home."
"John." Elizabeth's surprise was clear even through the slight static. "We didn't expect you back so soon."
"Well, we kinda found what we were looking for."
There was a pause.
"Understood. We'll be waiting."
"Here we go," Sheppard said with a quick grin. Rodney looked through the jumper's windshield. Blue trees, a multitude of birds, the small town hidden between the hills, none of which he would ever see again.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly as they slid into the event horizon.
He wouldn't miss a thing.
Elizabeth surprised him with a delighted hug as soon as he stepped out of the jumper, hanging on tightly before she let him go, her eyes bright.
"Welcome home, Rodney," she said warmly, before she stepped aside and Carson took her place. The Scot's eyes were suspiciously watery as they hugged briefly, and he muttered something Rodney couldn't quite make out.
"Yes, it's nice to know I'm still appreciated," he answered, which earned him a frown from Radek and a short laugh from Elizabeth.
"Of course you are. I don't know how we managed to survive without you." He could see that she was only half joking.
"Yes, yes, understandable of course, but I don't suppose the gratitude over my miraculous return will get me out of the debriefing."
"No," she answered dryly, and then hugged him again. "Infirmary first, though."
Carson was positively ecstatic, celebrating Rodney's return with every single medical check-up he could think of, Rodney's team lingering nearby through all of the non-invasive stuff. There was a brief moment of silence when he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the still deep red scars on his chest. Then Sheppard cursed, hands balled into fists.
"Ah, it might satisfy you to know that I got back at them for that," Rodney offered quietly, trying for a brave smile that just turned out lopsided.
"Good," Sheppard hissed, and that was the last thing he said until the end of the long, long, very long debriefing, apart from a quiet "God, Rodney," when they had gotten to the point where he'd had to blow up the Wraith dart, and with it his only chance to ever get back.
"I still don't know what you were doing on that planet," he said when he had finished his story, desperate to break the heavy silence in the briefing room.
"We were on a mission," Teyla answered, nodding towards Sheppard. "Colonel Sheppard found your GDO at the dialling device. When we could not find you, we thought you had left for another world, so we came back hoping that Dr. Zelenka might be able to locate the address of your destination."
"A redial? You've found it?" At Zelenka's denial, Rodney shook his head. "Oh. Huh."
"There was not much time to work on it," Radek started to defend himself, misunderstanding Rodney's disappointment. "Now that you are back, we can-"
"No, I, uh, I'm sure that if there was one, you would have found it by now."
Radek's face flushed at the implied praise, a picture of pleased surprise, but Elizabeth broke into the discussion before they could take it any further.
"Rodney, I'm sure you must be tired. Why don't you get some rest, you can catch up tomorrow."
As if to prove her point, Rodney had to yawn.
"Sure." He paused. "Where, uh, where do you want me to…?"
"How about your quarters?" Sheppard asked, suddenly at his side, hand under his elbow, helping him up. "That sound good to you?"
"Um. You didn't, I mean-"
"No, we didn't reassign them." Sheppard shared a quick glance with Elizabeth that Rodney couldn't quite decipher. And he didn't care, not really, not now, because he was home, home, and he still couldn't believe it. Had to touch the walls of the corridors they walked through. Had to shake the hand of every person who welcomed him back, grinning like a loon. Had to caress the panel next to his door when he thought Sheppard wasn't looking, only to have his wrist caught in a firm grip. When he looked up, the other man was staring at him with quiet intensity.
"Believe it. It's real."
Atlantis. He sighed.
"I know. I just- this is really, really sudden."
"Yeah, no kidding." Sheppard's soft agreement made him wonder for the first time how hard his 'death' might have hit the people around here. Sure, everybody was happy to see him - did that mean they had been mourning him? For real?
Before the thought could sink in, though, Sheppard let go of his wrist and opened the door, gesturing at the doorway.
"Welcome home."
And it was. The room so familiar that simply breathing seemed to hurt for a moment as he took in the sight, his bed, his pictures, his laptop, his… his really, really cluttered desk.
"What's all this?" he asked, picking up a wooden puddle jumper and turning it over in his hand, bemused. 'Gateship One', it read on the side.
Sheppard cleared his throat.
"Say-goodbye stuff," he said quietly.
"What?" He didn't get it, frowning at his desk, picking up stuff at random. Food, coffee, little pieces of wood, carved into Stargates, puddle jumpers, displays of the city. Bits of Ancient devices, most of them broken. He remembered some of them, each associated with its own weird story.
Letters.
Say-goodbye stuff.
"Oh," he whispered, his voice strangled.
"Yeah."
Sheppard fidgeted at his side, looking everywhere but at him, finally clearing his throat.
"I… guess I'll leave you alone now." He grinned, but it looked strained. "Sleep tight, Rodney."
"Yes, um. You, too."
Sheppard nodded, picking up a second laptop Rodney hadn't even noticed, and turned. Rodney was still staring at his... memorial, when Sheppard's voice came from the door.
"Rodney... it is good to have you back."
"Of course it is."
They shared a quick grin, and then Sheppard left.
It was strange calling him Sheppard again, when for the last five months he had been John, if only in Rodney's head. It would probably take a while for him to get used to it.
A lot of things would take a while to get used to. Again.
He looked at his letters again, feeling a morbid curiosity. Reaching out for the closest one, he yawned again.
Figured. And if he started reading now, he'd stay up the whole night. He'd have to worry about his place in this city tomorrow - now, he was just too tired.
Strangely enough, his bed smelled like John. He was still wondering about that when he fell asleep.
~~~
He felt like shit when his wristwatch finally started to beep. He could still hear Rodney's voice coming from his laptop, talking softly in the background like it had been all night, with John listening and trying to convince himself that Rodney had escaped, that Rodney was alive, had probably gated to the Varanian homeworld with a few surviving townspeople, or maybe to one of their allies.
Only, if he had, how come nobody had ever tried to contact them? Why had nobody ever dialled in to say, "Oh, and if you are looking for your Dr. McKay, you can come and pick him up"? The dull thuds of… things slamming against the shield were echoing in his mind again, and he had to turn up the volume to drown them out. What if Rodney hadn't known that his GDO was broken, what if-
He didn’t want to go there. He really, really didn't.
"Are you ready?"
This time, nobody rolled their eyes at the question. Instead, what he got were grim nods, determined faces. The three scientists and four Marines would go first, led by Radek. John, Teyla and Ronon would follow with the jumper, the crates with equipment already stacked up and secured. After they had unloaded, his team would do a sweep of the area, concentrating on the jumper's life signs detector while Radek and his people worked on the DHD. John hoped that in a few hours, if they didn't find Rodney somewhere, they would at least know where he might have gone to.
He tried to tune out thoughts like it's been almost five months or what if he's been hurt or Rodney's allergic to practically everything, circling around the matter but shying away from the dreaded word. As long as there wasn't any proof that Rodney was… not there, John could cling to hope.
He still didn't take a physician with them. Deep inside, he could admit at least to himself that this wasn't search & rescue. Just search.
Nobody questioned him.
"Alright. Go ahead, we'll meet you on the planet."
He watched them step through the Gate, then he turned and walked to the closest transporter that would take him to the jumper bay. Elizabeth was waiting there.
"Go find him," she said, and he nodded.
"I will."
The scientists were waiting for them on the blue world, starting to unload the jumper as soon as they had landed, talking and planning and inevitably arguing. John listened to them while he helped, growing increasingly impatient when all they were talking about were the hundred little things that would make their task impossible. There was no redial function in the first place. There was, but you could just dial the previous address, and nothing more. You had to find the right combination of symbols to find access the DHD's memory. There was no memory. There was, but you had to rewire the crystals. No, re-route the energy flow. No, use a remote control they hadn't found yet.
In the end, he had to bite his tongue to snap at them. Radek had no such qualms.
"You," he finally said irritably, poking a finger at the scientist who had dared to claim that the DHD had no redial, "I have no use for you. When you have finished unloading these crates, go collect flowers for the biologists. You," aimed at the one all for rewiring the dialling device, "as soon as we get back, remind me to give a crash course in basic engineering."
"I just said-"
"I heard what you said. It was stupid," Zelenka spat in a tone that would have made Rodney proud. "And you." He pointed at the idiot with the remote control idea. "Do not open your mouth again until I tell you to. Ah!" he added when the man opened his mouth to argue. "Wasting oxygen. We do not want that. Colonel, you help me open the DHD."
Radek picked up a toolbox and went over to the dialling device. John followed him.
"Those are the best you've got?"
"It is sad, I know. Earth keeps the intelligent ones for itself, I fear." Radek shook his head.
"But there is a redial, right?" There had to be. If there was any chance to find a trace of Rodney, the DHD was it. "Are you sure you'll find it this time?"
The Czech pushed up his glasses, and shrugged.
"As sure as we can be with an unknown mechanism. I think I know where I went wrong last time, but I cannot be sure." He sighed, eyes leaving John's face and sweeping over their surroundings. "These are good people, Colonel, but the DHD is an incredibly complex mechanism, and we can hardly just-"
Zelenka stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as he stared at something behind John. His mouth hang open in almost comical surprise, and his toolbox hit the ground with a clunk.
John turned.
There was someone standing on the road that led to the town, staring at them like they were an apparition, and for one crazy moment, John thought that one of the Varanians had survived the culling. Then his brain kicked in, finding the familiar hunch of shoulders, the crooked mouth, the shocked face, the wide eyes that were blinking at him. Around him, the chatter died down.
It can't be, it can't be, his mind insisted. That almost slender man with his sun-kissed skin couldn't possibly be- it couldn't be that easy, not after all this time, not after what he had gone through.
Could it?
He took a deep breath, trying to stomp down on the hope that was blooming inside him, not daring to believe, not yet. He started to walk, automatically, keeping his eyes on the man's face, and the closer he got, the clearer it became, and it looked like, it looked like-
Rodney.
Rodney, clad in a simple shirt and trousers; Rodney, who was still staring at him in disbelief; Rodney, warm and safe and alive, right in front of him, close enough to touch. Close enough to make it real.
John hesitated, then he put his hand on Rodney's shoulder. Funny, all the times he had dreamed of this, and he still didn't know what to say. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed.
"Hey, buddy," he managed, and what a stupid thing to say that was, when this was Rodney, Rodney, who should have been dead but wasn't. He was dimly aware that his fingers were clenching around Rodney's shoulder, painfully so, but couldn't bring himself to care between his wish to punch the scientist's lights out for scaring him like that, or hugging him and never let him go again.
Then Rodney opened his mouth, and the words just tumbled out.
"I'm hallucinating, aren't I? The isolation has finally fried my brain, and now I'm having sensory hallucinations. Or maybe it's sunstroke, I knew I shouldn't have been out walking in that heat, but it was really shady under the trees, and I-"
"Rodney," John interrupted, and oh God, how he had missed this. How he had missed him. "Rodney," he said again, just because he could, "I'm real, this is… we're real."
"You're real," Rodney echoed, like he still couldn't believe it, then his eyes widened. "Oh God, you're real, you're here, you're really here!"
Rodney's hand clamped down on his forearm, and his time on this planet must have made him stronger, because, fuck, that hurt. And yeah, that had to be the reason his eyes were burning, because why should he want to cry when Rodney was here, healthy and safe, and babbling again?
"How, how did you know, how did you find me, I didn't think… I thought I…" He broke off, and John laughed at his frustrated expression.
"Coincidence," he answered. "Sheer, stupid coincidence." And he grinned, like he didn't have a care in the world, and well, he didn't. Not right now. Not anymore. Thank you, he thought at whatever deity might be listening. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"Coincidence? But-" And John lost contact, had to let go of his friend as the others swarmed around him, grinning and welcoming Rodney back. Radek looked like he might break into tears any moment as he shook Rodney's hand, but seemed determined not to lose it. Teyla was wearing what had to be the brightest smile, ever, as she put her hand on Rodney's back, and Ronon, pragmatic as always, greeted their lost scientist with a power bar. Rodney looked like he might fall down any minute, and John decided that enough was enough.
"Rodney," he called, smiling as he met his friend's wide eyes. "What say we go home?"
And wasn't that the kicker? All this time, and he could play it cool, invite Rodney back to Atlantis with fake casualness when what he really wanted was touch the other man, reassure himself that yes, this was real. But it was okay, because Rodney was back, Rodney would come home, and that was enough. More than enough, it was perfect.
"Yes, I… Actually, I think that might be a pretty good idea," Rodney was saying, and John's smile widened. He had the other people pack up their gear while his team followed Rodney into the jumper, thinking that whatever it was his friend couldn't leave behind, it couldn't take more than half an hour to get it.
"We're here," he said when they arrived at the town, still smiling, inwardly basking at how relaxed Rodney was looking, how happy he seemed to be back with them. None of them could stop grinning, at least not until the scientist innocently reminded them of how long he had been here, alone, while they had been convinced he was dead.
Five months. Almost five months of pain and loneliness, and that was just John, who had still had his old life, familiar faces around him, people who cared. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it had been like to be stranded here, alone, abandoned. And yes, it had been pure coincidence that they had stumbled over this planet, but he couldn't stop that niggling little voice that kept insisting if they hadn't given up so soon, if they had looked harder, if he hadn't lost it and have Elizabeth send him back to Earth to get a grip, if they hadn't wasted all that time, they might have found Rodney a lot sooner.
It was stupid, and yet… And yet. He looked into the cluttered kitchen Rodney had made his own over the last few months, into the surprisingly neat living room, never straying far from the stairs. The others were hovering as well, looking at him with a strange mixture of guilt and silent apology, straightening when Rodney returned, a thick book in his hands.
"We can go now. I'm… done here."
"Yes, you are," John muttered under his breath. If he had his way, this planet would be locked right out of the database.
He let Rodney dial home, noticing how the scientist's hands were shaking as he pushed down the buttons, patting his arm to let him know it was alright to be nervous. A quick exchange with Elizabeth, and they could bring Atlantis' prodigal son back home.
"Here we go," he grinned, hovering in front of the event horizon, and Rodney nodded.
"Yeah."
Carson whisked Rodney off to his infirmary almost immediately, but John would be damned if he let his team be separated just yet. It wouldn't be the first check-up any of them had spent with the others as company, and besides, this was a special occasion. Carson poked, and prodded, and drew blood, and finally had Rodney pull off his shirt so he could start the real examination. The good-natured prattle around them died down, but it wasn't the prominent ribs that were making John's blood pressure rise.
Five angry red scars scattered in a half-circle across Rodney's chest. A sixth one, oval, right in the middle.
Feeding marks.
Feeding marks, and John cursed helplessly as the reality of Rodney's culling slammed home, the evidence of what the scientist had gone through. The Wraith who had done this was probably dead, or else Rodney wouldn't be here, but that didn't stop John from wanting to kill it all over again.
"Ah, it might satisfy you to know that I got back at them for that." Rodney's smile was hesitant, unsure, and again John wanted nothing more than to take him into his arms and keep him there.
"Good," he hissed instead, because what else was there to say? And then the debriefing started, and it all just got worse. Fed on by the Wraith. Walking through ice and snow for almost two days, lost and hurt, only to find that he couldn't go home. Russian roulette in the local pharmacy when it became clear that the infection from the wounds on his chest was slowly killing him. Trying to survive on his own on a foreign world with a tenacity and resourcefulness that really shouldn't have surprised anyone. Blowing up his only means to get home, to kill the remaining Wraith, and "God, Rodney," to keep them safe. Using up his one and only epi-pen when it turned out that he was allergic to the fifteen billion birds that had come along with spring.
When Rodney had finished his story, hours had passed, and John didn't know what to say.
"I still don't know what you were doing on that planet," Rodney's voice broke the silence, and Teyla gave him a brief explanation how they had literally stumbled over his GDO. Then Radek and Rodney jumped into their usual spiel like they were just talking about another project they had started only yesterday, until Elizabeth stopped them by sending Rodney off to bed.
"Sure," Rodney said, then he hesitated. "Where, uh, where do you want me to…?"
"How about your quarters?" John asked, helping him out of his chair, using the scientist's fatigue as an excuse to touch him. "That sound good to you?"
Rodney blinked at him in surprise.
"Um. You didn't, I mean-"
"No, we didn't reassign them." He glanced over at Elizabeth, and she had the grace to look a little guilty. As well she should for trying to make him let go.
The way to Rodney's quarters was a slow one, with everybody wanting to shake the scientist's hand. Rodney let them, touching the walls, the people, his own door, grinning wildly, even as John caught his wrist.
"Believe it. It's real," he said quietly, understanding just too well what the other man had to be going through. And sure enough, Rodney sighed.
"I know. I just- this is really, really sudden."
"Yeah, no kidding." Yesterday morning, Rodney had been dead, and John had been coping. A few hours ago, the only way to hear his friend's voice had been Jeannie's video files. It was all… too much, and he had to let go of Rodney's wrist and hide his unexpected bout of completely irrational panic behind a grand gesture at the open door before them.
"Welcome home."
He followed Rodney into the room, wondering how the hell he should get his laptop out of there without raising questions he wasn't quite prepared to answer. He was composing a short speech of Rodney's quarters being closer to his own room than his office, when Rodney stepped over to his crowded desk and picked up one of the wooden jumpers.
"What's all this?" he asked, confused.
John had to swallow around the lump in his throat.
"Say-goodbye stuff," he answered, his voice unsteady, but Rodney didn't seem to notice.
"What?" The scientist kept staring at the small mountain of things people had left on his doorstep, his eyes slowly widening as the penny dropped.
"Oh," he croaked.
"Yeah."
John didn't know where to look, what to do, just that he had to get out of there before he lost it.
"I… guess I'll leave you alone now," he offered lamely, trying for a grin and knowing that he failed miserably. "Sleep tight, Rodney."
"Yes, um. You too."
Yeah, like hell he would. John nodded, and swiped up his laptop, all but running to the door, slowing down when he noticed that Rodney wasn't even looking at him, standing forlornly in the middle of the room and staring at all the stuff on his desk.
"Rodney," he started, and paused, unsure what he could say to lighten the mood. "It is good to have you back," he said sincerely, and Rodney looked up at that.
"Of course it is," he retorted, and that was so typical that John shared a genuine grin with his friend. Right before he turned, and pretty much fled the room, clutching his laptop in a white-knuckled grip, breathing hard when his own door closed behind him. For a moment, he just leaned against the wall, eyes closed.
He had to be crazy. Rodney was back, happily so, and John was… what? Afraid that his friend might disappear again, that he might wake up and discover it had all been a dream? Or maybe frustrated that he couldn't touch Rodney the way he wanted to, that all the sweet nonsense he had imagine they'd share was just that, his imagination? Disappointed that while Rodney had seemed to be delighted to see him, it was just relief to be able to go home, and not because they had something special?
And yes, maybe he was crazy, his own giddy feeling of happiness dissolving into bitter disillusionment, into anger at himself and his stupid expectations, before settling down as a low sense of dread. How would Rodney react when he found out that John had been sleeping in his room? That he had basically broken down, sent home like an ill-disciplined schoolboy and returning with new-found stubbornness to keep Rodney's memory alive; obsessed and needy? And how was he supposed to take it back now, to live and settle down with friendship when over the last few months, he had more or less openly acknowledged that, at least for him, it was love?
This whole situation was completely fucked, he decided, lying in his own bed, staring at the ceiling.
He wasn't surprised that sleep eluded him. He just didn't know what to do about it anymore.
~~~
tbc.