TEAM WAR: Line in the Sand, "Saving Sheppard"

[fluffyllama]

Title: Saving Sheppard
Author: ldyanne ( interview)
Team: War
Prompt: Line in the Sand
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: R for language only, otherwise PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Rodney was eight the first time he met Death.
Notes Spoilers for The Defiant One, including dialogue from the episode, Hot Zone, Sanctuary and Before I Sleep (probably anything from season 1 could be spoiled)
With thanks to my awesome beta, you know who you are. Thank you for your help and encouragement.

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Life is like a game of Chess, changing with each move - Chinese Proverb

Rodney was eight the first time he met Death.

He didn’t know that he was meeting Death. He just saw the man with the kind face who stood at the door of his room in the ER. Rodney had tried eating an orange (again) and been rushed to the ER (again) when his throat swelled up and he’d been unable to breathe.

Rodney knew he wasn’t supposed to eat oranges or anything citrus (he’d memorized the list of citrus fruits and the many things that used it as an ingredient). But he was eight, he had to try it every once in a while to see if anything changed. It hadn’t.

Rodney smiled at the man standing in his door because the man was smiling at him.

Not many people smiled at Rodney. His parents were angry at him for ‘deliberately courting death.’ The doctor was mad at him because he’d ‘seen you way too damn many times.’ Even Jeannie was mad at him although she was pretty young to be mad, but he could tell by the way her chubby baby cheeks didn’t smile at him and by the way she turned her head away whenever he tried to get her attention. That’s what made him saddest of all.

The man at his door seemed kind of surprised when Rodney smiled at him. “You can see me?” he asked. He looked around as if to see if Rodney was looking at someone else.

Rodney nodded solemnly. Even at eight he knew that was an odd thing for a person to say.

The man in his doorway moved to stand beside Rodney’s bed. He wasn’t remarkable in any way that Rodney could tell, but his presence was calming. Rodney was still pretty worked up about the almost dying (again). The man reached down to put a cool hand on Rodney’s forehead. Rodney found himself feeling better immediately, his breathing even came easier, which shouldn’t have happened for awhile yet.

“Are you a doctor?” Rodney asked, always curious, taking in the man’s dark clothes and competent manner.

The man wasn’t annoyed with the question, like most adults got; he just smiled wider, like Rodney’s question had been a joke. “No,” he answered Rodney, “just a friend.”

Rodney began to feel sleepy as the man sat on the bed next to him combing his fingers through his hair.

“That’s good,” Rodney murmured as he shut his eyes. He drowsed as those fingers continued to card through his hair. It felt really good. He hoped the man stayed because not many adults were nice to him. “I don’t have many friends,” he murmured as he slipped into sleep.

The next time Rodney saw the man he carried a carved box (The school cafeteria thought lemon was a necessity for every dish. Normally Rodney brought his lunch, but his mom had been busy that day. She’d sent him off with lunch money and a hurried “I’m busy, Rodney, just go.” He’d felt a moment’s mean satisfaction when his throat began to close up after he had the cafeteria’s chicken for lunch). The box was polished so that it shone and it had intricate designs carved into the sides.

The man sat down on the bed next to Rodney and asked, “Do you like chess?”

Rodney nodded. He did like to play chess, but not many people would play with him. They didn’t like being soundly beaten by an eight-year-old kid.

The man smiled and opened his box. Inside was a board made with black and white marble tiles (Rodney was much older before he realized that the tiles were marble. When he was eight he just thought the board was neat). The pieces were carved figures of animals. They were so well made that Rodney could almost feel the fur under his fingers or ruffle the feathers as he set up the white pieces. The pieces were heavy and substantial in his hand, the wood well worn. He turned the little piece he held, admiring it.

“They’re all endangered species,” the man said gravely, he swept a hand out to encompass all of the pieces. He didn’t have to explain what an endangered species was, Rodney knew, although many children his age might not. It was one of the things Rodney liked best about his new friend. He never talked down to Rodney. He always thought that Rodney knew what he was talking about. He pointed at the piece Rodney held in his hand. “That one’s a panda. It’s not on any lists yet, but if nothing is done to save them, there won’t be any pandas for your children to see except as chess pieces or pictures in a book.”

Solemnly Rodney nodded that he understood. Reverently he set the piece in its place on the board. The man put two pieces behind his back - a black pawn and a white pawn.

“Choose one,” he said. He held out his clenched fists to Rodney.

Rodney tapped on a knuckle. The man opened his fist to reveal the white piece. “You start,” he declared with a smile.

Rodney made his first move, sliding a pawn out onto the board.

The man beat him in half an hour. He didn’t even pretend to let Rodney win like some adults would do at first when they didn’t know how well he played.

Rodney smiled up at the man as he tipped over his king in defeat. He hoped he got to play with him again soon because it was *fun* to play chess with someone who really played him.

~~~~~

At first Rodney thought his friend worked at the hospital because that was where he saw him. Rodney was sick a lot what with testing the growing-out-of-the-citrus-allergy theory and his problems with his blood sugar. His parents were often short with him as if those things were his eight-year-old fault. Often they would leave him alone during his stay in the hospital because, ‘someone had to stay with Jeannie.’

Rodney really didn’t mind much. That was where his friend would visit him.

“How do you feel about a game of chess?” his friend would say as he laid out his beautiful set.

They would play until Rodney was forced to concede the game. It took longer and longer each time. The man would smile at him in encouragement as Rodney would study the board trying to decide what strategy to use. He would explain his own strategy sometimes. Later when Rodney would use the same strategy against him, he would laugh and nod in approval.

As smart as he was, it didn’t take Rodney long to figure out that his friend didn’t work for the hospital, that he was in fact someone extraordinary.

Rodney was in the hospital (again) because his blood sugar had crashed. He just couldn’t always remember to eat when there were so many amazing things to learn. This time had been bad because his parents hadn’t been at home when it happened. They’d returned home to find Rodney wandering the house in a confused haze and Jeannie crying in her crib. The sitter had been frantic, but that was because she couldn’t get Jeannie to stop crying.

So he had to spend the night in the hospital. He was looking forward to his chess game with his friend, but he fell asleep while waiting. He woke in the middle of the night when the alarms went off for the patient in the bed next to his. The nurse pulled the curtains around his bed.

“It’s alright,” she tried to make her voice happy, but Rodney could see that her eyes were sad. “We just need a little privacy to take care of Emma. She’ll be fine in the morning.”

Rodney knew that she was lying. He knew what a heart monitor sounded like when someone coded. Emma’s heart had stopped, and she would be gone by morning. The same nurse would tell him, “Emma’s been moved to another wing.” It had happened before.

He was startled to see his friend appear beside his bed, almost as if out of nowhere. He gave Rodney a sad smile.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Rodney noticed that his friend wasn’t carrying the chess set.

“I’m not here to play chess right now, Rodney. I’m here for Emma tonight.” The man moved away from Rodney’s bed and passed through the curtains.

Rodney was old enough to know that just because something had never happened before; it didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Sure, most people had to go through the opening of a curtain. But he’d known for a long time that his friend was someone special. So, it wasn’t all that surprising to Rodney that the man could walk through the curtain. Mostly Rodney just wanted to know what else he could walk through.

It wasn’t long before his friend was back. Although Emma was clutching his hand, Rodney could still hear the wail of the heart monitor.

“I’ve got to go for now, Rodney,” the man said. “I’ll be back in the morning for our chess game. It’ll probably be a while before they release you. I thought you might like the company.”

Rodney looked curiously from his friend to the little girl. He glanced over at the curtain where he could still hear the medical team working frantically on the other side.

“Don’t be afraid by what happens next,” the man said. “Always know that I’m your friend.”

There wasn’t even any question in Rodney’s mind about that. He nodded immediately.

“Good,” the man smiled. He picked Emma up. “Are you ready to go?” he asked her.

Her smile was so joyful that Rodney wished with a small pain that he could go, too. Even though he didn’t speak aloud, Rodney’s friend must have known what he was thinking.

“It’s not your time yet, Rodney,” he said sternly. “You still have a lot of time on this earth, God willing. Now, get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Then they were gone.

Rodney blinked because he wasn’t quite certain what had just happened. When he opened his eyes back up, they were still gone.

Rodney was really, really smart. He didn’t need an adult to tell him how smart he was. So, when he heard someone on the other side of the curtain announce in a solemn voice, “I’m calling it, time of death, 3:05 a.m.,” Rodney knew that his friend was Death.

~~~~~

Rodney saw Death a record seven times the year he was eight.

Over the years Rodney learned how to take better care of himself, so he encountered Death less often. The year he was 12 he only saw Death twice, although he visited once because he said, “I missed our games.”

The day after that Rodney’s mom died when a drunk driver slammed into her car.

The year Rodney went off to college he saw Death five times. He just kept pushing himself too hard and didn’t pay attention to what he was eating. There was one time Death knocked on the door of his dorm. They played into the early hours of the morning. The next day one of the students on Rodney’s floor committed suicide.

By the time he was an adult and out in the world, Rodney saw less of Death. He insisted that everyone know about his allergies (whether they believed him or not) and he was more careful about eating (even if it was just power bars or whatever was on hand). Still, every once in awhile, usually when Rodney was at the end of his rope with his minions or the bureaucratic nonsense that plagued him no matter what government agency he worked for, Rodney would look up and Death would be standing there. He would lean casually against whatever surface was available, a chessboard tucked under his arm.

“How do you feel about a game?” Death would ask.

Death would set up the board and they would spend the next few hours lost in the game.

Rodney would eventually hear about the guy down in accounting that had a heart attack or the secretary that had an accident on the way to work. Sometimes he didn’t, but he was pretty sure that there had been a death somewhere.

There was always death somewhere.

~~~~~

Death came to visit Rodney after the unfortunate incident with Teal’c.

“There was no way Sam Carter was right,” Rodney insisted hotly. It wasn’t that he wanted Teal’c to be dead. It was more that he didn’t understand how Carter could break all the rules, be wrong and still succeed where he had failed.

Death smiled at him patiently. He’d heard a lot of Rodney’s rants over the years. He seemed to have an infinite amount of patience with them.

“Teal’c was her friend,” Death pointed out. “One day it’ll be someone that you care about who will be in danger. Then you’ll find that you will take any chance, break every rule to save them. It will make sense then.”

Rodney just scowled as he made his next move.

~~~~~

Rodney didn’t think about Death when he stepped through the wormhole into another galaxy. Maybe, just maybe in the back of his mind, he thought that he’d left Death behind.

Then Sheppard told them about the Wraith, a race of beings that sucked the life out of humans with their hands. Too quickly they found out that there was no end of things in the Pegasus Galaxy trying to kill them. If the Wraith weren’t enough, there was the threat posed by the Genii and every other native race they encountered who wanted what Atlantis had and they weren’t afraid to kill the current occupants to get it. They even discovered things in the city itself that threatened them. People around Rodney died, but Death wasn’t advertising his presence.

Until the night Rodney was working late in the lab, bent over his computer. He was deep in a complex problem when a cleared throat startled him.

“What?” he snapped at whoever had dared to interrupt his very important work. He began to shut his computer down carefully. “This is very delicate work I’m doing here. One wrong move and we could all go up sky high.” He turned, preparing to continue his rant.

The words died in his throat, the rant stuttered into nothing when he saw that it was Death standing in his door, chess board tucked under his arm.

“How’s it going, Rodney?” Death sauntered into the lab. He set the board down on an empty corner of Rodney’s workbench.

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Rodney stuttered. He backed away panicked.

He didn’t know what to do. Almost against his will he’d come to care for the people of the expedition. Some of them he’d come to care for a lot. He couldn’t just…

It was one thing to know there was danger around every corner. It was quite another thing to know that someone was going to die.

He drew in a deep breath, dredging up his courage. “I know what you’re up to now. And I won’t have it,” he declared.

“Up to?” Death quirked a curious eyebrow.

“Oh, please,” Rodney sneered. “You only ever show up when someone is going to die.”

Sadness and resignation passed across Death’s face. He sighed. “It’s true, that’s what I do, Rodney. But can’t friends just get together…”

“You’re not my friend,” Rodney cut him off, arms crossed defiantly. “You’ve never been my friend. The only time you show up is when someone is going to die. Someone always dies.” Fear was tearing at him, but Rodney refused to give into it. This was too important. Death was no longer welcome, but Rodney had to find out who he’d come for.

“Rodney,” Death tried to interrupt him, but Rodney wouldn’t have it.

“You’ve just been pretending to be my friend, biding your time until I screwed up badly enough you could take or me or collect me, or whatever it is you do. Well it’s not going to happen, so you can just leave now.” Rodney glared at Death, breathing hard and fast.

Death regarded him sadly, “Death isn’t a bad thing.”

“Never. Going. To. Happen.” Rodney gritted out defiantly. “I’m the smartest man in two galaxies, I’ll figure out how to stop you.”

Death shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“Someone’s going to die, aren’t they? That’s why you’re here.”

Death looked away from him.

“Tell me who it is,” Rodney demanded.

“I can’t do that,” Death said quietly. “It’s against the rules.”

“Rules?” Rodney stared at him in astonishment. They’d been playing chess together for most of Rodney’s life. This was the first time he’d heard about rules. Of course, Rodney really hadn’t had a vested interest before.

“There are rules for Death? Oh, how orderly of you.” Rodney wanted to rage, to throw things. He finally understood why Sheppard would stand for hours shooting holes in paper targets after a mission gone wrong. “You know what? I don’t care. Just tell me or get out,” he growled.

The door behind them chose that moment to open. Sheppard strolled in. Spotting Rodney at his work table, Sheppard made his way through the shadows of the lab to stand right next to Death.

“Hey, Rodney, you taking a break for dinner? It’s mac-and-not-quite-cheese night,” he said in his best wheedling tone. “You know you need to get there first if you want to get any of the crunchy brown stuff on the side.”

Rodney was looking right at Death, otherwise he would have missed the narrowing of his eyes, the fleeting knowledge that passed over his face. And Rodney knew.

“You’re not here for me, you’re here for him,” Rodney felt like a hand was squeezing his heart.

Sheppard swept the lab with an amused lift of his brow. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m here for you.” He regarded Rodney with narrowed eyes. “You alright, buddy?”

Rodney’s gaze shifted from Death who sat watching him with cool detachment to Sheppard’s worried eyes. Sheppard couldn’t see Death. No one but Rodney had ever been able to see Death.

“Rodney? Do I need to call Carson?” Sheppard asked.

“No,” Rodney nearly shouted in his need for Sheppard to not call Carson. Carson would want to take blood and run tests. It would almost certainly mean a night spent in the infirmary. When he got out, Sheppard would be dead.

He straightened. “I’m just… in the middle of something important. I can’t stop now.” He stretched muscles abused from sitting hunched over a computer for hours. “I’ll get dinner later,” he assured Sheppard attempting to derail the expected protest.

Sheppard frowned, his eyes searching Rodney’s. He nodded, albeit reluctantly. “See that you do.” He started to the door, but then turned back to add, “And don’t stay up too late. We have that mission to the Lagrangian point satellite tomorrow. Maybe I’ll let you get in some flying time.”

“Really?” Rodney had been badgering Sheppard for flying lessons. It was just like the man to agree when Gaul and Abrams would be looking over his shoulder the entire 15 hour flight. Infuriating. That’s what he was.

And he was going to die.

“Really,” Sheppard smirked at him. “See you in the morning,” he called over his shoulder as he departed. The door opened and closed without Sheppard touching the controls.

“Good friend,” Death commented. He began to set out the chess pieces.

Rodney rounded on him, “And you can’t have him.”

Swiftly Rodney ran to the door. He pried the cover off the control console. He yanked the crystal out, cutting himself on the sharp edge. A little trickle of blood welled up. He scrubbed his hand on his pants leg, ignoring it.

He turned back to Death, holding the crystal carefully. “I’m not letting you go anywhere until you tell me how to stop whatever’s going to happen to Sheppard.”

“Rodney, you know that’s not going to stop me,” Death met Rodney’s angry gaze without flinching.

“I know it’s not,” he huffed out a frustrated breath. “But I’ve got to do something. I can’t just let you take Sheppard. He’s vital to our mission.”

Death lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

“He’s saved us all countless times,” Rodney insisted hotly.

Death continued to stare at him without saying a word. Rodney could see that he wasn’t buying it.

“Please, I…” Rodney swallowed trying to marshal his thoughts; they were whirling madly, out of control. That just didn’t happen to him. It frustrated him now, when he needed to be at his best.

“He’s my friend,” he said finally, simply, “I can’t lose him.” Words failed him. He stared at Death, his mouth opening and closing but no words would come out.

“Rodney, you need to calm down. Play a game of chess with me and then we’ll talk more.”

Rodney’s head snapped up as an idea began to form. He regarded Death with narrowed eyes. “What about… a wager this time?”

Death regarded him for a moment. “What did you have in mind?”

Rodney swallowed, “If I win, you tell me how to save Sheppard.”

“Rodney, you’ve never been able to beat me,” Death pointed out gravely.

Rodney thrust out his chin and crossed his arms, “There’s a first time for everything.”

Death nodded thoughtfully. “True.” His mouth quirked up in a sardonic smirk, “And if I win?”

Rodney swallowed again, shoving his fear down, “Then you get both of us.”

Death regarded him, sadness in his eyes, “He means that much to you?”

Did he? Rodney had spent his whole life looking out for himself, there wasn’t really anyone else he cared enough about to sacrifice his life for. There was Jeannie, but they hadn’t talked for years, he didn’t think Jeannie cared if he lived or died, but Sheppard…

He’d only known John Sheppard a few months, but there was something about the man. He’d invited Rodney to join his gate team. In doing so, he’d forced Rodney to become a part of something. And Rodney found he liked it (although he’d never tell Sheppard that).

He liked having people depend on him for something besides his brain. Sure, his team depended on him for his brain, of course, but they depended on him for back up and to be there for them if it was needed.

And Sheppard… well, Rodney liked him more than just as a friend. Sheppard demanded that Rodney become a better person just by being John Sheppard. Rodney tried to imagine life in Atlantis without him (pushing, badgering and just generally being annoying) and he just… couldn’t.

“He’s everything,” he said simply, realizing it for the first time as truth.

Death frowned, “This is highly irregular,” he said slowly.

“Will you do it or not?” Rodney demanded, trying for calm assurance, fearing that he failed miserably.

Maybe Death saw the resolve in Rodney’s face; maybe he just liked playing games with people’s lives. Rodney didn’t know, he’d never really known Death at all. Whatever the real answer, Death nodded.

“Let’s do it,” he said. The game was almost set up; Death just had to set out the last few pieces.

It really was a beautiful set. Rodney had always loved it. He liked the weight of the pieces as he held them in his hand, the smoothness of the wood, the intricacy of the carving. Over the years the pieces changed as animals were removed or added to the endangered species list, but each piece was always exquisitely made.

Before Death could take the black and white pawns in his hand so they could decide who would begin the game, Rodney plucked them up, putting them behind his back, one in each hand.

‘Choose,” Rodney said. He did his best to keep the quiver out of his voice.

Death smiled at Rodney. It was different than any other expression he’d ever seen on Death’s face. It was cold and calculating, like Death was looking into his soul, judging how serious Rodney was. A chill settled over the room.

Death chose, “Left.”

Rodney unclenched the fingers of his left hand to reveal the white pawn.

“We’re all just pawns to you, aren’t we?” Rodney stared down at the piece in his hand. It was like he’d never seen it before. He imagined he could see Sheppard’s face etched into it.

Death huffed out a weary sigh, “Rodney, it doesn’t work that way. Death isn’t a game. You can’t win or lose. It just is. I… just am.” Plucking the pawn up from Rodney’s palm he reversed it, offering it back to Rodney, “You can go first if you want.”

No matter how he chose, in the end Death always let Rodney go first. And Rodney almost nodded, it *was* to his advantage to go first.

With his fingers closed around the white pawn, Rodney looked up to find Death regarding him intently. Over the years Rodney and Death had fallen into a routine in the way they played. They knew each other’s moves and tells. If Rodney was going to win, he realized, he was going to have to change the way he played.

“You can go first,” he said decisively.

Death bowed his head, placing his pawn onto the board. He studied the board for a moment, his eyes narrowed. He reached out, moving his first piece with assurance.

It was a classic opening, one that Rodney had seen Death make many times before. Rodney knew how to counter it. Easily.

He reached out to make his own move. He paused, his fingers hovering over a pawn, considering his strategy. He looked ahead, seeing where each potential move would lead him. Every path he saw lead to failure and Sheppard’s death.

The utter futility of what he was trying to do clawed at Rodney. There was no way for him to beat Death. Every move he might make was one he had made before. Every strategy he knew, Death had already defeated.

He pulled his hand back, the pawn untouched.

He chewed on his lip thoughtfully. Rodney McKay, Ph.D., Ph.D., Ph.D., was the smartest man in two galaxies, but Death had had all of eternity to hone his game. Rodney rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants; the cut from the crystal burned.

He didn’t know how he could win, but he had to. Any other outcome - resulting in Sheppard’s death, was unthinkable.

Sheppard was an anomaly in Rodney’s life. He was someone who just seemed to like Rodney, not only that, he liked Rodney as he was. He was at once the hottest man Rodney had ever met and the dorkiest geek Rodney had ever known. He had the Imperial Death March on the play list of his computer along with every song ever recorded by Johnny Cash. He was also the bravest man Rodney had ever known. He risked his life on a daily basis, and he never, ever left anyone behind.

Atlantis needed him. But Rodney was self aware enough to know that his desire to save Sheppard was purely personal. He hadn’t really realized how much Sheppard meant to him, until right this moment when he found out that he was going to lose him.

He would beat Death because he had to.

“Take all the time you want,” Death said. He pulled up a stool from Zelenka’s workstation. He sat back, crossing his ankles casually. “But if you’re thinking that you’ll just detain me here, maybe… keep from happening whatever is supposed to happen? Well I can’t let you do that.” He snapped his fingers.

There was an indefinable… something that rippled through the room.

The pressure against his ears reminded Rodney of flying - stuffed into a cabin with screaming children on either side of him. He swallowed to try to relieve the pressure against his ears and felt them pop.

Anger swept through Rodney. “What did you do?” he demanded.

“I’ve placed us into our own little bubble of time,” Death said calmly, completed untouched by Rodney’s rage. “We can play in here for as long as you want, and no time at all will pass in Atlantis. In fact anywhere.” He smiled at Rodney, as if Rodney should be pleased.

It was a good strategy. Not to keep Death playing, but to keep Sheppard in Atlantis, not let him go on any potential death missions.

Except what if it was something on Atlantis that caused Sheppard’s death? They’d already seen plenty of things in the city itself that could, did, kill. What if not going on the mission killed Sheppard?

Rodney felt trapped, as if Death was playing him like he played chess, weaving a web around Rodney, until he couldn’t see a safe path anywhere until he was forced to concede.

The best plan was to play this final game, to win.

But he couldn’t win. He’d played countless games with Death. He’d never managed to beat him before.

What would Sheppard do? It was a stray idle thought, Rodney almost dismissed it. Bet then he considered it again.

He had played chess with John Sheppard. The man’s hair might say ‘lackadaisical slacker,’ but his mind was sharp. He’d managed to beat Rodney twice. Rodney was a genius with perfect recall. He remembered both of those games clearly. How Sheppard had made it look almost easy.

Rodney was a careful player, he hoarded his pieces, he considered his moves and mapped out his strategy. If he lost a piece it was so that he gained ground or strengthened his position. Sheppard played with a reckless disregard for his pieces. He made wild sallies against Rodney’s king that could only be called suicidal. It wasn’t until Rodney was in check that he saw the trap that Sheppard was laying. Rodney had been so contemptuous of Sheppard’s style that he’d forgotten to watch what Sheppard was doing. It should have been a strategy that only worked once, but Sheppard had beaten him a second time that way, when Rodney was watching for it.

So, the answer was he had to try a new strategy that Death wouldn’t expect, make moves that Death wouldn’t be able to anticipate Rodney’s game.

Rodney gulped and made his first move. He felt almost confident. Or, at least, not as terrified as he could feel.

“Unusual,” was all Death said, giving no clue of what he was thinking. However his long, elegant finger tapped on the edge of the board - a steady tap, tap, tap. Rodney had never told Death that he did that when he wasn’t sure what Rodney was up to. He wasn’t going to tell him now.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Rodney couldn’t contain the small smile that tilted up one side of his mouth.

The thing that Rodney had learned from Atlantis and John Sheppard was that he was at his best when his back was against the wall, when he was reinventing the rules. Conventional rules didn’t apply in a galaxy where the Wraith lived. Death was about to meet his match.

Time seemed to stop for Rodney as he made each move, his heart pounding every time Death would look at him with narrowed eyes trying to figure out what he was doing.

“Did I do that?”

The first time Rodney had seen John Sheppard he’d been sprawled back in the control chair, gazing up in surprised awe at the display over his head.

For just a fraction of a moment Rodney had been seized by the impulse to crawl into his lap, kiss him, and go on kissing him until they were both sated and sticky. He’d quelled the impulse just as quickly. Sheppard was American military and unlikely to respond well to Rodney’s affection. But Sheppard was under Rodney’s skin. It didn’t matter what Rodney did, he was there to stay.

After the third or fourth move, Death grinned at him. “So, how is Teal’c these days?”

Rodney tried not to react, but he just wasn’t that good at poker. He lost *that* game, every damn time.

“You’d know if he was anything but well,” Rodney frowned down at the board, trying to ignore Death’s jibes and concentrate on his game.

Death wasn’t having any of it, “So, now you know how Carter felt back then?” He reached out and made his move, sliding his piece into exactly the place Rodney needed it. He did his best to hide his glee. Even so Death saw the little bounce he gave and frowned.

”In-vun-e-rable,” Rodney had sing songed when Sheppard had arrived in Rodney’s lab in response to Rodney’s request that he ‘ get down here right the hell now.’

Sheppard had scanned him up and down suspiciously, looking for something different, anything to explain Rodney’s euphoric mood.

“Go ahead, Major,” Rodney had taunted, “shoot me, you can’t hurt me.”

With a sardonic lift of his brow, Sheppard had barely hesitated before drawing his weapon and firing on Rodney’s leg. He broke out in a grin when the shot ricocheted off Rodney’s leg bouncing around the lab. There were screams of fear and outrage as Rodney’s minions ducked for cover. Sheppard and Rodney didn’t even notice. They’d been caught up in the high of Rodney’s discovery.

“That’s so cool,” Sheppard drawled. “You’re invulnerable.” His grin matched Rodney’s. He snapped his fingers. “We should test it. I can throw you off a balcony.”

They raced through the halls of the city to the balcony on the control tower to see who would get there first.

Rodney pursed his lips together as he made his next move. “I suppose I do know how Carter felt,” he answered Death’s question. It was the truth. He did know how she’d felt then.

He would do anything to protect his city. He would do anything to protect Sheppard. No matter what it was, even if some ‘expert’ told him that it couldn’t be done, he’d rewrite the laws of physics if he had to in order to keep what was his safe. Sheppard had taught him that.

He made his next move, continuing to develop his trap around Death.

The first time Rodney knew true helplessness was standing, able to do nothing but watch as Sheppard lay dying with a funky alien bug, an Irratus bug, attached to his neck

He would do whatever he had to in order to save Sheppard. The problem was there was nothing he could do. He was the smartest man in two galaxies, he was the foremost expert in Ancient Technology, he had three Ph.D.s and there was nothing he could do, except stand by and watch.

He would give up his own life if he could, but even then he knew that Sheppard wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t leave anyone behind and he was willing to give up his own life if it kept his own people safe.

“Checkmate,” Rodney crowed gleefully, bouncing where he stood.

Death scowled down at the board, studying it intently, looking for some weakness in Rodney’s position, some mistake that Rodney had made.

Rodney knew a moment of absolute joy. He had won!

Death made one final move and Rodney’s world came crashing down around him.

“No!” Rodney roared. There was a hand squeezing his heart, he could barely breathe as he stared at the board.

“Rodney,” Death started.

“No. You’ve cheated,” Rodney snarled. “There is no way that you could win. I won’t let you win.” He grabbed Death, pulling him across the work bench. Chess pieces went crashing to the floor.

“Rodney.”

There was a shimmer and the chessboard was gone.

Death stood before him, dressed in a black robe, a hood pulled low over his face. Rodney stumbled backwards.

“Now this is kind of a cliché.” Rodney rolled his eyes, resorting to bravado to mask his fear.

“Rodney, all these years you’ve seen me as you expected to see me, as a friend. Now that you finally accept me as death, this is how I appear to you.”

“Take me instead,” Rodney begged. He wasn’t above begging, if it was for Sheppard. And he meant it, too. Sheppard had risked his own life to save Rodney and the others so many times since he’d come to Atlantis. He’d shown Rodney true bravery and selflessness. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was the man that Rodney loved. He would give up his own life if it would save John Sheppard.

“Rodney, I can’t do that. I am sorry.”

Death was gone and Rodney had lost.

~~~~~

Rodney’s concentration was shot to hell. There was no way he was going to get any more productive work done. Besides he had something more important than energy consumption models to work on now. He shut everything down and headed for his quarters.

He’d never felt less like eating in his life, but he knew if he let his blood sugar drop, it would be detrimental to his own health and could interfere with his reasoning. He needed to be in top form if he was going to figure out a way to save Sheppard’s life, so he made a stop at the mess hall to grab whatever was left over from dinner to take with him to his quarters.

He was surprised to find the place crowded with diners. Afternoon sunshine spilled through the windows, casting a rainbow of colors across the room.

Death really had been serious when he said that he had stopped time. Rodney glanced down at his watch to see that it was still early. It had only been a matter of minutes since Sheppard had stopped at his lab to encourage him to go to dinner, instead of the hours that had passed for Rodney.

It was as if thinking of Sheppard had conjured him up.

Rodney spotted him as he made his way to a table, his tray only half full with a sandwich and one of their last apples, next to a bottle of water. He broke out in a smile when he saw Rodney standing in the doorway. He tilted his chin towards their usual team table in the corner.

Oh, great, it was just what Rodney needed, to be subjected to Sheppard himself when he should be in his quarters trying to figure out a way to save him.

Grabbing a tray, Rodney pushed and shoved his way through the line. The grumbling from the line was only for form’s sake, everyone knew Rodney by now. They knew what he was like when he was in the middle of solving a problem. Hell, they knew what he was like period.

He responded to the muttered complaints on automatic, not giving it his usual effort to be creative in his insults. He held his tray out and let the server decide what to dish out for him, although he did make a point of sneering, “No citrus.”

He didn’t even notice when the girl spooned up a generous serving of the mac-and-not-quite-cheese, including a good amount of the coveted crispy brown topping.

He moved to join Sheppard with trepidation, not knowing what he was going to say or do. “Oh, by the way, I was just talking to Death and you’re going to die tomorrow.” Yeah, that would go over well. It would also earn him a one-way ticket to a padded room.

Sheppard smiled at him again when he sat.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, “I thought you were too busy for dinner?”

“Well, you know,” Rodney hedged, “Never too busy for you.”

The delight that passed over Sheppard’s face was quickly smoothed over by his usual sardonic mask, but Rodney had seen it. Things clicked into place for him - Sheppard coming to the lab just to hang out and, ‘I thought I’d see if you have anything I need to turn on.’ The midnight visits with coffee and snacks when Rodney was pulling an all-nighter in the lab, movie and team nights that were just John and Rodney most of the time. It all fit.

“You like me,” Rodney blurted, staring down at Sheppard with wide, shocked eyes.

Sheppard cast a hurried glance around the room, but they were in the corner a good distance from the nearest other diners. Besides the room was noisy with laughter and conversation, no one could have overheard them.

He turned back to Rodney, “Of course, I like you buddy,” Sheppard dropped his eyes to his dinner, intent on unwrapping his sandwich. “We’re friends, right?”

That was Sheppard deflecting him.

It was bad timing, Rodney knew that. God, was it bad timing. To finally find out that someone he liked liked him back (and a really hot someone at that). And that guy was going to die. Life really sucked sometimes.

So, he didn’t call Sheppard on it. He smiled wanly. “Sure, sure, friends. Whatever. Listen, I’m not too hungry, I’m going to skip dinner. See you in the morning.” He ducked out, not even waiting to hear Sheppard’s reply.

Once he reached the safety of his room, he locked the door, silently commanding Atlantis not to let anyone in. He dug out one of his supply of hoarded MREs. He sat on his bed to eat furiously trying to figure out a way to save Sheppard.

~~~~

By morning, Rodney had come to the conclusion that it was hopeless. He had spent hours with spreadsheets and powerpoint presentations trying to come up with a workable plan. But every plan he came up with was doomed to failure.

His very best idea - to win the chess game and make Death give him the information he needed, had already failed.

His back up plan - plead illness and get the mission scrubbed only had about a 50% chance of success. Because: 1) Radek knew as much about the Lagrangian Point satellite as Rodney did. Weir could always suggest that Sheppard take Zelenka instead. And that was unacceptable. There was just no way Sheppard was leaving Atlantis without Rodney at his side. AND 2) Even if he could convince Weir and Sheppard to postpone the mission, there was no guarantee that a) the danger wouldn’t still be waiting for them when they did finally go (and they would go, the discovery was too important to just let it float out there untouched), or b) it was something on Atlantis that was going to kill Sheppard. By scrubbing the mission, it would precipitate that eventuality.

The only plan Rodney could come up with that had any chance at all of success was to go through with the mission as planned and just not let Sheppard out of his sight. Rodney was confident of his ability to prevent any harm from coming to Sheppard, just as long as he didn’t go off on his own. Sheppard had an alarming habit of risking his own life to save other people. He really needed Rodney watching his back.

Around 4 a.m. he did hit upon the idea of trying to figure out how to make time stop as Death had done. But he couldn’t figure out the equations quickly enough. He fell asleep at his desk. When he woke the morning, sun was streaming in his window. He had the indention of his keyboard smooshed into his face and 27 pages of random letters typed into his document.

Rodney trudged into the bathroom, feeling like something that Death might come for any moment. (He didn’t really appreciate the irony). The face that looked back at him in the mirror was dull with fatigue and worry. He couldn’t bring himself to care. It was the day that John Sheppard was going to die.

~~~~~~

He was worried about Sheppard and Death, but flying the jumper was cool. Even if Gaul and Abrams were leaning over his shoulder critiquing his technique like the worst back seat drivers in the history of driving.

He’d worried that things would be weird with Sheppard after the revelation the night before in the mess hall, but it was as if nothing had ever happened. Sheppard was his usual snarky self, grinning at Rodney, “Ease up on the controls a little,” he said.

“I’m fine,” and he was. Despite himself Rodney began to relax.

“You're gonna snap the damn things off. Ease up!” Sheppard scolded.

Everything was so normal with the snark and putting the two junior scientists in their place, Rodney began to think that maybe he was wrong. Maybe Death really had just come to play chess with him, like old times.

Then the fucking Wraith showed up.

Rodney hated them so much.

When they found Gaul cocooned and looking as old as Rodney felt, Rodney did his best to convince Sheppard to stay with them. But the damn Wraith threatened his precious puddlejumper and Sheppard just wouldn’t have that.

Rodney insisted, “He won't be able to fly it.”

Sheppard frowned at him, thinking it over, “Do we know that for a fact?”

Rodney wanted to say, “Yes, absolutely we know that,” but he couldn’t. He wasn’t certain. If the Wraith got off the planet and was able to use the Ancient technology? That would be bad. Very, very bad.

He tried prevarication, “I'm sure the Wraith were the main reason the Ancient technology only works if the operator has the specific gene.”

Even Gaul tried to persuade him to stay, “No -- please don't leave us,” he pleaded.

When John left them there to face the Wraith alone, Rodney knew that the time had come. This was the moment that John Sheppard was going to die.

It was the hardest thing Rodney had ever done, staying with Brendan Gall, when he wanted, needed to be out there with Sheppard. But he couldn’t leave Gall either, Brendan was completely defenseless, he needed Rodney as much as Sheppard did. Rodney was caught between them, unable to go, unable to stay.

Gaul saw the problem. Gaul saw a lot of things. “You’ve changed,” he said before the gun went off releasing Rodney to go and save Sheppard.

But he didn’t want that at the cost of Brendan’s life. At first when the gun went off Rodney couldn’t figure out what had happened. Then he’d wasted more precious seconds staring down at Brendan, sadder than he’d ever been in his life. Brendan had given his life so that Rodney McKay could save the day. Rodney just hoped that it was enough.

~~~~~

Rodney sat in the pilot’s seat of the puddlejumper staring out at the emptiness of space. He clutched the controls like they were his lifeline. He knew the rescue jumper was flying along beside him, but he couldn’t see it. He felt very alone.

It was so different than it had been on the journey out to the satellite. Then the jumper had been full of good-natured jibes and laughter. It had been full of life. Now it was deadly quiet. It was just Rodney and the silence of space.

“There was nothing you could have done to save your friends, Rodney.”

Rodney wasn’t surprised when Death spoke. He’d been expecting him. Rodney refused to look at him though; he kept his gaze forward, intent on the darkness of space. “Is this fun for you?” he asked bitterly.

It was silent for so long that he wondered if Death had gone. He refused to look and see if Death was still there.

Rodney gripped the controls so tightly his knuckles were white. He could hear Sheppard chiding him, “ease up on the controls a little bit.” He did his best to comply, relaxing his fingers.

He wished that it was Sheppard sitting there beside him instead of Death. His breath gave a funny little hitch at the thought. He suddenly found his eyes swimming with tears. Furiously he blinked them back, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

At last there was a weary sigh from beside him. “Rodney, I don’t assign the time and place of death.”

“Then who does?” he demanded, sick of the games. He just wanted Death to go.

“You do, Rodney, you do it yourself sometimes. Why do you think I visited you so many times when you were a kid? Each time there was the possibility that you would die, but you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. You fought so hard to live. I admired you for that.”

Rodney did not let himself be pleased that Death admired him.

“Today there was every possibility that all four of you would die, but you changed the outcome by going to Sheppard’s side. Your friend Gaul was right, you have changed Rodney.”

“What does that even mean?” Rodney demanded. Forgetting that he wasn’t looking at Death, he turned to glare at him.

Death chuckled, “It’s not a bad thing to care about people, Rodney.”

Rodney swallowed down the hot denial that he didn’t care. It hurt too much when you cared and you lost the people you cared for, or they disappointed you by not caring back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rodney said stiffly.

“Sure you don’t, Rodney.” There was weary amusement in Death’s voice. “Anyway, I’m not going to be allowed to appear to you again, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Rodney felt relief sweep through him. “You’re not here for him then?” He waved a hand toward the passenger compartment where Sheppard was sleeping.

He’d looked like death when they finally got the jumper repaired and were preparing to leave, they’d nearly had to tie him down to get some sedatives and an IV into him. Ford had insisted, with Teyla backing him up, that one of them fly back in the jumper with Sheppard and Rodney, but Sheppard had a brief whispered conversation with them. In the end, Rodney and Sheppard were flying back to Atlantis by themselves.

Death smiled at Rodney, “Not this time, he’s nearly as stubborn as you.” He stood. “Rodney,” Death paused, then he went on resolutely, “I’m already in trouble where you’re concerned just for playing chess with you, I might as well go all the way. You and Sheppard are strongest together. You should tell him. ”

“Tell him?” Rodney repeated, resolutely refusing to hear what Death was saying.

“How you feel. People sometimes fight harder to get home if they have someone to come home to.” With that Rodney was alone again in the cockpit of the jumper with only his thoughts for company.

~~~~~

They’d been back in Atlantis for almost a month and Rodney still hadn’t talked to Sheppard. But to be fair, Sheppard hadn’t talked to him either. It was like Sheppard knew what was going on in Rodney’s head - he’d meet Rodney’s eyes in a staff meeting and smile slowly, his eyes full of desire, but he was giving Rodney time to figure things out.

The problem was, the more time Rodney had to think, the more confused he became.

He cared for Sheppard a lot, and more than just in the ‘Oh, my god, he’s so hot’ way. He liked Sheppard’s company - he was smart and witty and he didn’t take shit from Rodney, he gave as good as he got. He seemed to like Rodney just like he was, which had to mean that he was as brain damaged as his hair would suggest.

Rodney didn’t seen Death again, but death was waiting around every corner. They hadn’t been back in Atlantis a month; Sheppard had barely recovered from his injuries sustained at the hands of the super-Wraith, when they discovered a virus engineered to kill humans.

Rodney had literally felt Death’s hot breath on his neck, when he was saved by Carson’s ATA gene therapy. Sheppard had saved a third of the expedition that day and nearly killed himself in the process. Oh, he was all breezy about nuclear explosions and shockwaves, but Rodney knew how much danger the pilot had been in. He just wasn’t sure that he could have a relationship with someone who might die at any moment.

But then he remembered what Death had said to him in his parting, People sometimes fight harder to get home if they have someone to come home to.

Rodney had decided he was going to do it; he was going to talk to him, when they met Chaya.

Rodney was so pissed at Sheppard that he was certain he was over him. When he found out that Sheppard had shared the last of the strawberries with Chaya, Rodney was ready to shoot the man himself. It wasn’t the strawberries precisely; it was more that Sheppard was having a moonlit picnic with someone that wasn’t him that pissed him off most.

Then they met the other Elizabeth and found out what had happened to the expedition in the first timeline. Rodney heard that he’d died, of course he heard that, but then Elizabeth Prime told them that Sheppard had died, too. 10,000 years in the past. Rodney didn’t know anything about that first John and Rodney, but he was certain that they died with things unresolved between them. And it wasn’t acceptable to let that happen again.

~~~~~

Rodney was sitting on the pier looking out over the ocean. He didn’t sit and admire the view normally, but this was an exceptional view. He liked to come out here to think sometimes. It wasn’t the view, he refused to think that an amazing view was conducive to helping a person think, it was just that it was far enough away from the city that he wasn’t likely to be disturbed. He had his radio. If someone needed to find him, they could contact him that way.

When he heard footsteps, he glanced up to see Sheppard approaching. Waving at him, Sheppard lifted something aloft displaying it for Rodney. It couldn’t be…

“Beer?” Rodney accepted the can Sheppard held out to him. “Where did this come from? We were out of Earth goods weeks ago. Nobody was allowed to bring beer.”

Sheppard smirked at Rodney as he sat down next to him, legs dangling over the side of the pier. “I have my sources,” he said, the corners of his mouth tilted up in a smug grin.

Rodney popped the top and took a long drink. It was American beer, so it was mostly water, but still - beer.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“To not dying in this timeline,” Sheppard answered. He popped the top on his can and took a drink.

Rodney was just taking another drink, he spluttered at Sheppard’s words and the liquid went down the wrong way. He coughed and the beer snorted out his nose. He flailed and coughed some more as the beer burned his nose and throat. He was aware of Sheppard’s panic, but he was having a hard time just catching his breath.

“McKay? Rodney? Do I need to call the med team?” Rodney caught Sheppard’s panicked words.

He waved a hand, “No, no,” he choked out. “I’ll be fine, just give me… minute.” By the time he got his breathing under control he found Sheppard staring at him with haunted eyes.

“Rodney?” he whispered.

“I’m fine,” Rodney said. “You just surprised me, that’s all.” He picked up the beer, but then put it down again.

“Do you suppose they were friends?” Sheppard asked. “That other John and Rodney.”

Not having any idea where Sheppard was going, Rodney just shrugged. “How could they not. It’s a fact that there are alternate universes out there; SG-1 has proven that. There’s probably a few where you’re a lazy, surfer beach bum and I’m a high school teacher and we’ve never met, but in most of them, yeah, we’re probably… you know, friends.”

John smiled, but it was just a ghost of his usual smirk. “In the ones where I haven’t shot you first,” he agreed.

“Hey,” Rodney protested. “I’m a very likeable person.”

“Oh, sure you are, McKay, that’s why all the natives we meet want to tie you up and sacrifice you to their gods.”

There was an uncomfortable pause as they both remembered that mission. Rodney had ended up with 27 stitches in his side. Sheppard had been kept in the infirmary for three days because of his head wound.

“We’re a pair aren’t we?” Sheppard sighed.

“A pair of what?” Rodney couldn’t help asking.

Sheppard shrugged as he took another drink. “You know. A pair. Two things that go good together. Like chocolate and peanut butter.”

Rodney stared at him, wondering how much beer Sheppard had downed before he came out to the pier. Did he need to worry that Sheppard was going to take a drunken header into the water?

Sheppard met his eyes. He smiled at Rodney, softly, gently.

“Did I ever thank you for coming and saving my ass from that Wraith?” He didn’t even have to say that it was the mission with the uber-Wraith where they had lost Gall and Abrams. It was never far from Rodney’s mind.

They hadn’t talked about it period. Sheppard had slept in a drugged haze the entire 15-hour trip back to Atlantis. He’d spent a couple of days in the infirmary before being put on light duty for two weeks. It was the reason Ford had been with Rodney’s team when they found the nano-virus, Sheppard wasn’t back on duty yet. Things had happened - like the nano-virus and Chaya and Elizabeth Prime. There hadn’t been a chance to just talk. Until now.

“Well, thank you,” John took a drink.

“You’re welcome,” Rodney said. Not sure what else to say, he blurted, “I couldn’t just let you die. How would that look if I came home without the military commander…”

“Rodney,” Sheppard caught his arm, squeezing in reassurance. His fingers were warm and strong. Alive. “I’m so sorry about Gall and Abrams.”

He’d tried to ignore it, to bury himself in work and not think about it. Now it all came welling up: the fear that he was losing Sheppard, the anger that there was nothing he could do. Tears prickled at his eyes, but he refused to shed them.

“You lose people,” Rodney said, clearing his throat, “you move on.”

“Rodney, you don’t just move on. If I lost you..” Sheppard’s words trailed off, but his hand stayed on Rodney’s arm. “I thought I’d lost you,” he went on. Sheppard’s voice sounded a little rough, too. Rodney looked over; he was surprised to see the brightness in Sheppard’s eyes. “When that drone hit. You didn’t answer for a long time, and I thought you were…”

“Dead?” Rodney said it.

“Yeah,” Sheppard nodded. He swallowed and turned to meet Rodney’s gaze. “You were right that day in the mess hall. I do… like you, a lot. And I thought you were dead.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Rodney demanded.

“Before?”

“Before, oh, I don’t know, now?”

Sheppard lifted a brow, “I’m the military commander of Atlantis, Rodney,” he answered simply

“Oh, please,” Rodney snorted. “Do you know how many of your guys are going out with my guys?”

Sheppard lifted his hands, “I’m not asking and you’re not telling.”

“Okay,” Rodney said, “Okay. But why now?”

Sheppard turned his gaze out to the water, to the sun dancing over the waves, and the not-fish sliding just below the surface. “All my life I’ve denied this part of myself. I didn’t want to disappoint my father, I wanted to fly, I wanted to fit in - so I just… got used to not getting what I want. But then I thought you died on that planet. And the other Elizabeth told us about how we died in the first time line.” He paused to take a long drink from his beer. Rodney hardly dared to breathe; afraid he would ruin the moment. Afraid he’d never get to hear what Sheppard was going to say. He turned back to Rodney, “I decided… that it was time that we stopped being afraid of death and we started to live. I want to live Rodney, with you.” He held out his hand.

Rodney was still afraid of death and having to see Sheppard’s broken body someday. But he was more afraid of living life without having loved someone like he loved John Sheppard.

Rodney took Sheppard’s hand, squeezing his fingers. They sat there like that for awhile, just holding hands, sipping their beer, watching the water.

Sheppard turned to him, “So, you wanna go back to my place? We could watch movies or… something?” His smile was shy and sweet.

Affection welled up within Rodney for this man, John Sheppard. He was the bravest man that Rodney knew. He was crossing a line that he’d set for himself, taking a chance in an uncertain world.

He smiled, “Yeah,” he said, “I wanna.” The least Rodney could do was meet him half way.

Poll