TEAM ANGST: Famous Last Words, "Midnight Shakes the Memory"
Title: Midnight Shakes the Memory
Author: foxxcub ( interview)
Team: Angst
Prompt: Famous Last Words
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13 for language
Warnings: none
Summary: Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers Rodney.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the Prompt and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
"Fine, fine. See if I ever save your ass again, Colonel."
Sheppard smirks, and it's a little mean and a little hurt all at once. Or maybe Rodney's just imagining the latter. It doesn't matter anyway, he's just done. So done.
"I won't ask you to," Sheppard replies, voice low and quiet, steady, and it's the last thing he says to Rodney before he leaves the gateroom, leaving Rodney alone to fume and sputter and wonder just how it all went wrong.
Not that it really matters. He's done.
It hadn't been his fault. Some hidden landmine--a trap set by the paranoid natives of MK6-11R--showed up immediately on Rodney's scanners, and he'd insisted they take another route to the village. And yes, said route had taken them through sacred grounds, and yes, said paranoid natives had revolted, ruining the entire mission, but the part Rodney thinks made everything go completely to hell was when shots rang out and a bullet grazed Rodney's ear. Before he knew what had happened, Sheppard was yelling his name and tackling him to the ground, his body completely covering Rodney's, his mouth pressed against Rodney's bloodied ear.
"You okay?" Sheppard had yelled over the commotion, and Rodney had nodded shakily, off-kilter and flustered. His hands had curled around Sheppard's shoulders of their own accord, as if they knew Rodney's brain had shut down momentarily and were acting by default.
"Y-yeah. I--yes, fine." His hand kept sliding across Sheppard's shoulders, further still until his palm rested at the back of Sheppard's neck, warm and gentle, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of his hair.
Sheppard's eyes had widened, his body tense, making Rodney blink and suddenly come back to the moment. "Um, you? Are you--"
"We need to get the hell out of here." Sheppard had looked away, pushed off the ground and away from him. He didn't look at Rodney again until they were back in the gateroom and everyone was accounted for.
Then the tirade began--"You never listen to me, and I'm damn sick of it"--and suddenly something snapped inside of Rodney.
So okay, he thinks as he makes his way back to his quarters, glaring at anyone who dares glance his way. Maybe it was partly his fault. But only partly, and they'll never get that confession out of him, even on penalty of death.
Rodney doesn't sleep that night at all. He tells himself it's the adrenaline that's taking its sweet time wearing off, and not the ridiculous hope that Sheppard will somehow manage to stop by and apologize for being an ass.
Sheppard never comes.
In the dark, Rodney grits his teeth.
Yep. Done.
Except he's not.
He begs off the next mission, which causes eyebrows to rise all across the room, save for Sheppard, who simply twirls his pen between his fingers and doesn't look up. Zelenka goes in Rodney's place and the team leaves for the new planet a few hours later, with Rodney safely ensconced in his lab with enough mindless data to keep him distracted for days.
He falls asleep at his laptop, only to be awakened by Elizabeth's hand on his shoulder.
"Rodney? Rodney, wake up."
He jerks upright and gasps. "How long was I asleep? I didn't mean--I was simply--"
"It's John. The team just got back, and there's been...an accident."
Rodney's heart is in his throat as he practically bolts from the lab to the gateroom without waiting for Elizabeth to follow. All he can think is I'm sorry, even before he learns all the details.
"Acute amnesia," Carson says, carefully avoiding Rodney's eyes.
"How--"
"A weapon of some sort, I'm not sure. It went off before Zelenka could determine what it was. Sheppard was apparently the closest to the device when it detonated."
Sheppard is curled on the infirmary bed, his skin slightly blackened, his eye bruised. His lips, parted in sleep, are split on one side.
Rodney hates the suddenly clutch in his chest. "Are you sure? I mean--"
"He doesn't even remember his own name, Rodney. I gave him a mild sedative when he started to panic."
Panic. Sheppard never panics--at least, not where others can see.
"Is it reversible?" Rodney asks, not looking at the bed.
Carson shrugs. "Most likely. Only time will tell, and the device was destroyed in the explosion, so there isn't a way for us to study it."
"Of course not." He doesn't mean to be rude; there just isn't anything else Rodney can think to say. He's too busy ignoring the battered figure lying in the bed and the heavy, sickening weight spreading through him.
Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers Rodney.
"You're a scientist, aren't you?" he asks as he sits down tentatively beside Rodney in the cafeteria. Rodney is alone at the table except for Teyla, who watches them with quiet, searching eyes.
"I--well, yes, yes I am. A physicist." Sheppard is pressed close to him, his thigh lined up against Rodney's. It makes Rodney twitch and look nervously about the room. Teyla says nothing, but she sees everything.
"And I'm--?"
"A pilot. Air Force. You're a colonel, actually, recently promoted." Rodney wonders if he should tell him his birthday and shoe size as well, but he'd never admit to knowing those bits of information to the normal Sheppard, so he won't start now.
"Oh, wow. That's crazy." His voice is soft, tinged with awe and a little young-sounding. It makes the damn weight start tugging at Rodney again. "I've flown planes and everything?"
"Yes, quite frequently." And you have this entire city under your thumb.
"Huh." Then Sheppard smiles at Rodney. It's open and honest and big, making the corners of his eyes crease.
Rodney loses his breath for a moment.
"Have I flown with you?" Sheppard asks, tilting his head to one side.
"Yes, in the 'jumpers." Rodney stands up abruptly and adds, "I have a meeting I need to get to. Excuse me." He doesn't look at Teyla, but he can hear her look of displeasure.
Sheppard calls after him, "Rodney, wait!"
He quickens his pace and hides in his lab the rest of the day.
Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers how to touch Rodney.
At least, he somehow remembers the little ways to make Rodney hold his breath and swallow hard around the pounding in his throat, although Rodney really doesn't want to think about the normal Sheppard spending time pondering these things. It...raises too many questions, too many thoughts, and Rodney has enough of those in his brain at the moment, thank you.
At Elizabeth's insistence, Sheppard sits in on staff meetings and team briefings, always sitting at Rodney's right, his elbow brushing against Rodney's. He smiles crookedly at him when Rodney glances over and frowns.
He starts insisting Rodney call him John, which...no.
"I can't, Colonel," Rodney replies, feeling a heat creep into his cheeks that shouldn't be there. "It's--it's not that I don't--that is, protocol and all--"
"Fuck protocol," Sheppard says, laughing. "I don't even remember going through basic training. How am I supposed to know how to be a damn colonel?"
"That's not the point--"
"Rodney, I need to hear people say my name. I need to hear it so I can remember that it's mine, okay?" He reaches out, lays a hand on Rodney's shoulder and squeezes, once, his thumb sweeping up to lightly skim over the skin just above Rodney's shirt collar.
Rodney shivers and backs away. Sheppard drops his hand, looking confused, hurt. This time, Rodney knows without a doubt it's real.
"I can't," Rodney whispers again. He turns and leaves Sheppard standing in the hallway, alone, because he's not about to explain to him the astounding number of reasons why Rodney doesn't have the right to speak his name.
"I have to go down there."
Elizabeth sighs. "Rodney, we've been over this. There's nothing left on the planet for you to research. The device that wiped Sheppard's memory is long gone."
Rodney shakes his head. "There's got to be something, we can't just let him go around being--being--"
"Being a different person?" She folds her arms on her desk and gives Rodney a gentle smile.
"Yes, exactly. It's detrimental to the missions, not to mention this city--I mean, he probably has no memory of the gene or how it affects things, or how to fly a 'jumper, and that right there is just going to lead us into all sorts of--"
"Rodney." Elizabeth's voice is sharp but calm. "He's managing fine, I think. Lorne is filling in when we need someone with John's expertise, and the missions are going fairly smoothly without him. Carson says he's perfectly healthy, and might even get his memory back on his own."
"It's just that--"
"He scares you."
Rodney blinks as the familiar weight seeps into his chest. "I don't know what you mean."
She sighs again. "He trusts you. You should let him; you're the only thing he seems to remember." She says it like he should be thankful, even grateful, for this fact.
Instead, Rodney goes back to the safety of his lab, telling himself it's in Sheppard's best interest that he spend every waking hour figuring out how to retrieve his memories, picking Zelenka's brain for clues about the mystery device.
He doesn't see Sheppard again for days.
Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers kissing Rodney.
"I've kissed you," he says to Rodney quietly. They are alone in the briefing room.
Rodney's head snaps up, eyes wide. "Um, what?"
"I remember it. The kiss. It was...summertime, maybe?"
Rodney drops the pile of paper in his hands, pages scattering across the floor. "I, uh, hate to break this to you, Colonel, but we have most definitely never, um--done that." He can't say the word without turning red.
Sheppard takes a step closer, then closer still, until he's much too far into Rodney's comfort zone, close enough to where Rodney can see the wet shine of his lips and smell the faint hints of his aftershave. "But I remember it," he whispers, and suddenly his tone is quiet, slightly pleading. "The feel of your mouth, the way your breath hitches--it's all there, Rodney."
"It's not real, though." Rodney concentrates very hard on breathing. "It didn't happen." He backs away, slowly, but Sheppard follows.
"I..." His eyes are full of--of everything: want, need, confusion, panic, desperation, all jumbled together into a look that's so very open and so very not Sheppard.
Rodney shakes his head. "It didn't happen." He bends down to gather the mess of papers off the floor, a convenient excuse to avoid Sheppard's eyes.
When he looks up again, Sheppard is gone.
"He's remembering things that never happened," Rodney says a little frantically to Carson.
"How can you be so certain?"
"I just know, all right?" He begins to pace the infirmary, running solutions through his mind, treating the situation as critical. Which, if he's being completely honest with himself, it always has been.
Carson frowns thoughtfully at him. "I suppose there are amnesia cases where the patient remembers thoughts and dreams as real occurrences. It could be that Colonel Sheppard is merely remembering a dream as a real life memory."
Rodney swallows. "But I--he--that can't be. I just--" He doesn't deserve the ridiculous flutter that blooms in his stomach. Rodney shakes his head, disgusted with himself and his weakness.
"You just what, Rodney?" Carson asks.
He scrubs both hands over his cheeks and says, roughly, "I need to make this right."
Rodney collects every bit of data he can find on the planet and the people who may have designed the device. He pores over it, sifting through for clues, anything, anything at all.
One night, he wakes up in front of his laptop to a hand cupping his elbow, and Sheppard is standing over him, looking worried.
"Do you always sleep in your lab?" he asks.
Rodney sits up, carefully avoiding Sheppard's eyes. "Most of the time, yes. Beds are overrated." He looks down at Sheppard's hand still curled around his elbow. Sheppard doesn't move away.
"You're avoiding me." Sheppard says the words simply, and Rodney flinches.
"No, I'm--"
"Did I...did I do something to you? Before? Are we no longer friends?" His tone is so earnest, so full of honest confusion, Rodney has a moment of delusional longing, a sharp, sudden desire to pull him close and tell him, no, it's all Rodney's fault.
"It's not what you think, I'm merely trying to--"
"Then stop trying." Sheppard squeezes his arm, licks his lips slowly as if he's trying to kill time in an effort to find the right words. "Stop trying to treat me like a research project and treat me like you did before. When we were close."
Close. Rodney's heart tugs painfully.
"Colonel, I--"
"Fucking stop, Rodney. It's John. John. Please." And then he's closing the distance between himself and Rodney, narrowing the empty space the separates their bodies until there's nothing left. Sheppard splays his hand over Rodney's chest, right above his heart, the tips of his fingers catching in the fabric of Rodney's shirt.
"I can't remember the way you say my name," he whispers, and Rodney can barely breathe. "I need to know."
And Rodney thinks, as his eyes close and he hears himself say John's name with something close to awe just as Sheppard's lips touch his, that the universe really does have a sick sense of humor.
Sheppard isn't careful around him anymore. His hand skims over Rodney's knee in briefings and his smiles are warm and intimate when their eyes meet just before crossing the event horizon onto a new planet, a new adventure. He says Rodney's name like he's learning it anew every day.
Rodney doubles his efforts and research time, sleeping a handful of hours a day. Sometimes Sheppard will bring him coffee and nuzzle his neck from behind and whisper at him to come to bed. Rodney usually says no.
Sheppard wakes up one morning and remembers who he is. He remembers everything.
"Do you know what happened?" Elizabeth asks as Carson checks his vitals.
He shakes his head. "There was an explosion, and then nothing." Rodney stands to his right, and Sheppard has not looked at him since he walked into the staff meeting and named every person by name and title.
"So the past few months are a blank for you?"
Sheppard pauses; his face turns ever so slightly toward Rodney. "Yeah, for the most part," he replies quietly.
Rodney leaves the infirmary without another word.
**
THIS POLL IS NOW CLOSED. ANY FURTHER VOTES WILL NOT BE COUNTED.
Poll Vote for this story
Author: foxxcub ( interview)
Team: Angst
Prompt: Famous Last Words
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13 for language
Warnings: none
Summary: Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers Rodney.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the Prompt and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
"Fine, fine. See if I ever save your ass again, Colonel."
Sheppard smirks, and it's a little mean and a little hurt all at once. Or maybe Rodney's just imagining the latter. It doesn't matter anyway, he's just done. So done.
"I won't ask you to," Sheppard replies, voice low and quiet, steady, and it's the last thing he says to Rodney before he leaves the gateroom, leaving Rodney alone to fume and sputter and wonder just how it all went wrong.
Not that it really matters. He's done.
It hadn't been his fault. Some hidden landmine--a trap set by the paranoid natives of MK6-11R--showed up immediately on Rodney's scanners, and he'd insisted they take another route to the village. And yes, said route had taken them through sacred grounds, and yes, said paranoid natives had revolted, ruining the entire mission, but the part Rodney thinks made everything go completely to hell was when shots rang out and a bullet grazed Rodney's ear. Before he knew what had happened, Sheppard was yelling his name and tackling him to the ground, his body completely covering Rodney's, his mouth pressed against Rodney's bloodied ear.
"You okay?" Sheppard had yelled over the commotion, and Rodney had nodded shakily, off-kilter and flustered. His hands had curled around Sheppard's shoulders of their own accord, as if they knew Rodney's brain had shut down momentarily and were acting by default.
"Y-yeah. I--yes, fine." His hand kept sliding across Sheppard's shoulders, further still until his palm rested at the back of Sheppard's neck, warm and gentle, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of his hair.
Sheppard's eyes had widened, his body tense, making Rodney blink and suddenly come back to the moment. "Um, you? Are you--"
"We need to get the hell out of here." Sheppard had looked away, pushed off the ground and away from him. He didn't look at Rodney again until they were back in the gateroom and everyone was accounted for.
Then the tirade began--"You never listen to me, and I'm damn sick of it"--and suddenly something snapped inside of Rodney.
So okay, he thinks as he makes his way back to his quarters, glaring at anyone who dares glance his way. Maybe it was partly his fault. But only partly, and they'll never get that confession out of him, even on penalty of death.
Rodney doesn't sleep that night at all. He tells himself it's the adrenaline that's taking its sweet time wearing off, and not the ridiculous hope that Sheppard will somehow manage to stop by and apologize for being an ass.
Sheppard never comes.
In the dark, Rodney grits his teeth.
Yep. Done.
Except he's not.
He begs off the next mission, which causes eyebrows to rise all across the room, save for Sheppard, who simply twirls his pen between his fingers and doesn't look up. Zelenka goes in Rodney's place and the team leaves for the new planet a few hours later, with Rodney safely ensconced in his lab with enough mindless data to keep him distracted for days.
He falls asleep at his laptop, only to be awakened by Elizabeth's hand on his shoulder.
"Rodney? Rodney, wake up."
He jerks upright and gasps. "How long was I asleep? I didn't mean--I was simply--"
"It's John. The team just got back, and there's been...an accident."
Rodney's heart is in his throat as he practically bolts from the lab to the gateroom without waiting for Elizabeth to follow. All he can think is I'm sorry, even before he learns all the details.
"Acute amnesia," Carson says, carefully avoiding Rodney's eyes.
"How--"
"A weapon of some sort, I'm not sure. It went off before Zelenka could determine what it was. Sheppard was apparently the closest to the device when it detonated."
Sheppard is curled on the infirmary bed, his skin slightly blackened, his eye bruised. His lips, parted in sleep, are split on one side.
Rodney hates the suddenly clutch in his chest. "Are you sure? I mean--"
"He doesn't even remember his own name, Rodney. I gave him a mild sedative when he started to panic."
Panic. Sheppard never panics--at least, not where others can see.
"Is it reversible?" Rodney asks, not looking at the bed.
Carson shrugs. "Most likely. Only time will tell, and the device was destroyed in the explosion, so there isn't a way for us to study it."
"Of course not." He doesn't mean to be rude; there just isn't anything else Rodney can think to say. He's too busy ignoring the battered figure lying in the bed and the heavy, sickening weight spreading through him.
Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers Rodney.
"You're a scientist, aren't you?" he asks as he sits down tentatively beside Rodney in the cafeteria. Rodney is alone at the table except for Teyla, who watches them with quiet, searching eyes.
"I--well, yes, yes I am. A physicist." Sheppard is pressed close to him, his thigh lined up against Rodney's. It makes Rodney twitch and look nervously about the room. Teyla says nothing, but she sees everything.
"And I'm--?"
"A pilot. Air Force. You're a colonel, actually, recently promoted." Rodney wonders if he should tell him his birthday and shoe size as well, but he'd never admit to knowing those bits of information to the normal Sheppard, so he won't start now.
"Oh, wow. That's crazy." His voice is soft, tinged with awe and a little young-sounding. It makes the damn weight start tugging at Rodney again. "I've flown planes and everything?"
"Yes, quite frequently." And you have this entire city under your thumb.
"Huh." Then Sheppard smiles at Rodney. It's open and honest and big, making the corners of his eyes crease.
Rodney loses his breath for a moment.
"Have I flown with you?" Sheppard asks, tilting his head to one side.
"Yes, in the 'jumpers." Rodney stands up abruptly and adds, "I have a meeting I need to get to. Excuse me." He doesn't look at Teyla, but he can hear her look of displeasure.
Sheppard calls after him, "Rodney, wait!"
He quickens his pace and hides in his lab the rest of the day.
Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers how to touch Rodney.
At least, he somehow remembers the little ways to make Rodney hold his breath and swallow hard around the pounding in his throat, although Rodney really doesn't want to think about the normal Sheppard spending time pondering these things. It...raises too many questions, too many thoughts, and Rodney has enough of those in his brain at the moment, thank you.
At Elizabeth's insistence, Sheppard sits in on staff meetings and team briefings, always sitting at Rodney's right, his elbow brushing against Rodney's. He smiles crookedly at him when Rodney glances over and frowns.
He starts insisting Rodney call him John, which...no.
"I can't, Colonel," Rodney replies, feeling a heat creep into his cheeks that shouldn't be there. "It's--it's not that I don't--that is, protocol and all--"
"Fuck protocol," Sheppard says, laughing. "I don't even remember going through basic training. How am I supposed to know how to be a damn colonel?"
"That's not the point--"
"Rodney, I need to hear people say my name. I need to hear it so I can remember that it's mine, okay?" He reaches out, lays a hand on Rodney's shoulder and squeezes, once, his thumb sweeping up to lightly skim over the skin just above Rodney's shirt collar.
Rodney shivers and backs away. Sheppard drops his hand, looking confused, hurt. This time, Rodney knows without a doubt it's real.
"I can't," Rodney whispers again. He turns and leaves Sheppard standing in the hallway, alone, because he's not about to explain to him the astounding number of reasons why Rodney doesn't have the right to speak his name.
"I have to go down there."
Elizabeth sighs. "Rodney, we've been over this. There's nothing left on the planet for you to research. The device that wiped Sheppard's memory is long gone."
Rodney shakes his head. "There's got to be something, we can't just let him go around being--being--"
"Being a different person?" She folds her arms on her desk and gives Rodney a gentle smile.
"Yes, exactly. It's detrimental to the missions, not to mention this city--I mean, he probably has no memory of the gene or how it affects things, or how to fly a 'jumper, and that right there is just going to lead us into all sorts of--"
"Rodney." Elizabeth's voice is sharp but calm. "He's managing fine, I think. Lorne is filling in when we need someone with John's expertise, and the missions are going fairly smoothly without him. Carson says he's perfectly healthy, and might even get his memory back on his own."
"It's just that--"
"He scares you."
Rodney blinks as the familiar weight seeps into his chest. "I don't know what you mean."
She sighs again. "He trusts you. You should let him; you're the only thing he seems to remember." She says it like he should be thankful, even grateful, for this fact.
Instead, Rodney goes back to the safety of his lab, telling himself it's in Sheppard's best interest that he spend every waking hour figuring out how to retrieve his memories, picking Zelenka's brain for clues about the mystery device.
He doesn't see Sheppard again for days.
Sheppard doesn't remember who he is, but he remembers kissing Rodney.
"I've kissed you," he says to Rodney quietly. They are alone in the briefing room.
Rodney's head snaps up, eyes wide. "Um, what?"
"I remember it. The kiss. It was...summertime, maybe?"
Rodney drops the pile of paper in his hands, pages scattering across the floor. "I, uh, hate to break this to you, Colonel, but we have most definitely never, um--done that." He can't say the word without turning red.
Sheppard takes a step closer, then closer still, until he's much too far into Rodney's comfort zone, close enough to where Rodney can see the wet shine of his lips and smell the faint hints of his aftershave. "But I remember it," he whispers, and suddenly his tone is quiet, slightly pleading. "The feel of your mouth, the way your breath hitches--it's all there, Rodney."
"It's not real, though." Rodney concentrates very hard on breathing. "It didn't happen." He backs away, slowly, but Sheppard follows.
"I..." His eyes are full of--of everything: want, need, confusion, panic, desperation, all jumbled together into a look that's so very open and so very not Sheppard.
Rodney shakes his head. "It didn't happen." He bends down to gather the mess of papers off the floor, a convenient excuse to avoid Sheppard's eyes.
When he looks up again, Sheppard is gone.
"He's remembering things that never happened," Rodney says a little frantically to Carson.
"How can you be so certain?"
"I just know, all right?" He begins to pace the infirmary, running solutions through his mind, treating the situation as critical. Which, if he's being completely honest with himself, it always has been.
Carson frowns thoughtfully at him. "I suppose there are amnesia cases where the patient remembers thoughts and dreams as real occurrences. It could be that Colonel Sheppard is merely remembering a dream as a real life memory."
Rodney swallows. "But I--he--that can't be. I just--" He doesn't deserve the ridiculous flutter that blooms in his stomach. Rodney shakes his head, disgusted with himself and his weakness.
"You just what, Rodney?" Carson asks.
He scrubs both hands over his cheeks and says, roughly, "I need to make this right."
Rodney collects every bit of data he can find on the planet and the people who may have designed the device. He pores over it, sifting through for clues, anything, anything at all.
One night, he wakes up in front of his laptop to a hand cupping his elbow, and Sheppard is standing over him, looking worried.
"Do you always sleep in your lab?" he asks.
Rodney sits up, carefully avoiding Sheppard's eyes. "Most of the time, yes. Beds are overrated." He looks down at Sheppard's hand still curled around his elbow. Sheppard doesn't move away.
"You're avoiding me." Sheppard says the words simply, and Rodney flinches.
"No, I'm--"
"Did I...did I do something to you? Before? Are we no longer friends?" His tone is so earnest, so full of honest confusion, Rodney has a moment of delusional longing, a sharp, sudden desire to pull him close and tell him, no, it's all Rodney's fault.
"It's not what you think, I'm merely trying to--"
"Then stop trying." Sheppard squeezes his arm, licks his lips slowly as if he's trying to kill time in an effort to find the right words. "Stop trying to treat me like a research project and treat me like you did before. When we were close."
Close. Rodney's heart tugs painfully.
"Colonel, I--"
"Fucking stop, Rodney. It's John. John. Please." And then he's closing the distance between himself and Rodney, narrowing the empty space the separates their bodies until there's nothing left. Sheppard splays his hand over Rodney's chest, right above his heart, the tips of his fingers catching in the fabric of Rodney's shirt.
"I can't remember the way you say my name," he whispers, and Rodney can barely breathe. "I need to know."
And Rodney thinks, as his eyes close and he hears himself say John's name with something close to awe just as Sheppard's lips touch his, that the universe really does have a sick sense of humor.
Sheppard isn't careful around him anymore. His hand skims over Rodney's knee in briefings and his smiles are warm and intimate when their eyes meet just before crossing the event horizon onto a new planet, a new adventure. He says Rodney's name like he's learning it anew every day.
Rodney doubles his efforts and research time, sleeping a handful of hours a day. Sometimes Sheppard will bring him coffee and nuzzle his neck from behind and whisper at him to come to bed. Rodney usually says no.
Sheppard wakes up one morning and remembers who he is. He remembers everything.
"Do you know what happened?" Elizabeth asks as Carson checks his vitals.
He shakes his head. "There was an explosion, and then nothing." Rodney stands to his right, and Sheppard has not looked at him since he walked into the staff meeting and named every person by name and title.
"So the past few months are a blank for you?"
Sheppard pauses; his face turns ever so slightly toward Rodney. "Yeah, for the most part," he replies quietly.
Rodney leaves the infirmary without another word.
**
THIS POLL IS NOW CLOSED. ANY FURTHER VOTES WILL NOT BE COUNTED.
Poll Vote for this story