The Red Door
Dedicated to Lois, who seems only to have swollen lymph nodes after all, not an ominous abdominal mass, and who's already back to helpfully standing on the keyboard and stomping on my head, the dear little fuzzhead.
The Red Door
(or, a Postmodern Prometheus)
Previous Chapter
Chapter 14
Atlantis' Rinse Cycle
Rodney realized how much worse it was all about to get when Kate Heightmeyer told him he had a meeting scheduled with Carson and Elizabeth first, and afterwards, she would be very happy to talk to him.
Crap.
He fortified himself with extra coffee, and though he didn't quite trust his left hand to carry the brimming mug, he enjoyed a private moment of triumph as he pulled the chair out for himself before setting his coffee down. Then he looked up and saw Carson smiling indulgently. So, not so private after all. Rodney scowled back at him and took the bull by the horns. "I'm strong enough to send back to Earth, now, aren't I?"
Elizabeth and Carson exchanged a look Rodney couldn't read, then both started to talk at the same time. Elizabeth broke off, and waved at Carson to continue. With an apologetic shrug of the shoulders, he said, "I don't think there would be any problems with a return trip on the Daedalus now if you want to go. The most recent MRIs indicate the areas of necrosis have stabilized, even retreated to a not-insignificant degree. I suppose I hadn't realized you were waiting for the opportunity to go home."
Rodney suddenly felt exhilarated and furious. "Well yes, of course I want to walk away from the most important work of my life, as well as my only chance for a complete recovery! What else have I been waiting for?"
"Rodney," Elizabeth chided gently.
"Let me just get this straight. You're not about to ship me off? Then what is this all about? Christ, do you people know you nearly gave me a heart attack?"
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth leaned forward and patted Rodney's hand, which did very little to comfort him. "Actually this is about the garden room."
"Yes?" Rodney said suspiciously, with a sharp glance at Carson. "It must be really bad news if you had to haul Elizabeth in for backup."
"I understand your progress has been extraordinary so far," she continued, unperturbed.
Rodney couldn't help it. He thrummed the fingers of his left hand on the tabletop in a little victory march. Elizabeth smiled, but Carson took up the story. "And now that you've recovered so much range of motion in your shoulder, your gait should improve fairly rapidly as well. We've talked, you know, about the way your left arm compromised your ability to walk almost as much as the direct neural damage."
Rodney got it then. He just didn't believe it yet. "I'm going to make even faster progress in the garden room."
"That's what Elizabeth and I want to talk to you about. We think it might be safer not to use the garden room again."
"Stop now? You're serious." Rodney didn't trust himself to speak, but didn't let that stop him. "You hold out the possibility of a complete cure, and then you take it away because I've been having bad dreams? No. No, you can't be serious."
"Rodney, you're healing now. There may be no need for the garden room, and given the risks, and how little we understand--"
"The risk that the neurons in my hypothalamus haven't permanently called off their death march? That it starts again a few years down the road, say, when I'm not in Atlantis anymore? That makes no sense. We have access to an effective treatment now. Have you talked to Colonel Sheppard about this? To Dr. Zelenka?"
Elizabeth and Carson exchanged a glance. Rodney was quickly deciding he really hated those knowing looks.
"No," Elizabeth said. "We wanted to speak to you first. They're both very -- protective since Silicis. It's possible they're not capable of entirely objective reasoning where you're concerned."
"So you think they would allow me to hurt myself in the garden room? How does that make any sense whatsoever? They want me to get better. I want me to get better." Rodney shook his head mulishly. "Are you telling me you won't allow me to use the garden room again?" Rodney was already marshaling all the reasons they had no right to bar him from treatment, but Carson held out his hand.
"I don't believe either of us have that authority. Forgive me, Elizabeth. I don't mean to speak for you."
"It's all right," she agreed quietly.
Carson continued, "I just wanted you to consider another possibility, and to keep in mind that you're exposing John to the same high energy particles. Rodney, you know the colonel won't say no to you."
"I don't know any such thing," Rodney grumbled. "Seems to me he says no all the time." But the truth was, he completely understood Carson, and he couldn't quite meet his eyes. "The problem last time was my own bad dreams. Dr. Heightmeyer's going to help me wash and drip-dry my brains, and I'll be ready to give it another go."
"Will you agree we won't proceed further until Kate is comfortable with the prospect?" Carson asked, not sounding happy.
Rodney was fairly confident of his ability to steamroller Heightmeyer in a pinch. "Sounds reasonable. Now Elizabeth--" Rodney sat up straighter and finished off his coffee. "Just so this little meeting won't be a complete waste of time: consider this your official notice of my final decision on the Thrope and Mowbry project.
She shook her head as though to clear it. "Your final decision?"
"This is strictly a matter of energy generation and consumption, or are you going to argue that doesn't fall under my purview?"
"No, I don't mean to imply that in the least."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. I've scheduled a meeting this afternoon, where I'll explain to all and sundry that as tempting as the prospect of restoring Atlantis may be -- and I'd like to have the luxury to do that as much as anyone -- as long as we're barely hanging on by our fingernails here, generating energy has to take precedence over expending it."
Elizabeth's shoulders slumped a bit, which annoyed Rodney more than it should have. "It's not like we're destroying anything! If we find a ZPM tomorrow, we'll haul the cyclic heat generator out of the ocean and use the pieces to rebuild the broken towers. Well, Radek's generator isn't actually built yet, but once it is. Anyway, I suspect Thrope and Mowbry will come whining to you immediately after my meeting, so I thought a heads up was the least I could do."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said formally, but for some reason she still looked a little shell-shocked.
Although there was no question Rodney was one hundred percent right, he still went to look up Sheppard before his appointment with Heightmeyer. He found him in the mostly-empty mid-morning mess, nursing a cup of coffee and noodling with the duty roster. He glanced up at Rodney's approach. "Hey there, McKay." Rodney instantly gave into the temptation to preen, swinging his left arm to demonstrate how well his shoulder worked now. Sheppard grinned. "Any reason you're not down in the lab this morning making Dr. Z.'s life miserable?"
Rodney sat down across the table. "Carson and Elizabeth called me in for a meeting."
Sheppard clucked in sympathy. Most of his attention was still on his laptop.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you -- how's your head?"
"Good as far as I know. Any reason it wouldn't be? Oh, you mean the headache I got after the garden room. Is that what Beckett and Weir cornered you over? I'm fine. It was gone before Beckett even let me out of the infirmary yesterday."
Rodney nodded. "Good. I was a little concerned. Well, no, actually I wasn't, not until this morning."
"Rodney, I'm touched."
"--because you wouldn't -- the thing is, they both implied -- actually they didn't imply, they flat out said you would be willing to go on with the garden room treatments even if they were dangerous. To you, I mean. Just as long as the room was helping me."
John shook his head. "I should go have a talk with Elizabeth. McKay, don't worry about it. Honestly. Does that sound like something I would do?"
"Let's see. Reckless disregard for your own safety?" Sudden realization struck hard. "Oh my god, they're right. It is exactly the sort of thing you would do."
"All right, stop. Not one step further with this. I don't want to end up with my brains dribbling out my ears any more than you do. Are you forgetting we're in there together?"
"No, right, of course. Of course. That's not the point. Well it is but--"
Sheppard reached across the table and grasped Rodney's wrist. "I mean it. Knock it off."
Rodney nodded too fast and tried not to say anything.
"There," Sheppard pushed his mug across the table. "Have some coffee. Take a deep breath. Not at the same time."
Rodney scowled, but not very seriously. He drank the cold coffee and took a few deep breaths. Neither helped.
"This is about your bad dreams, right? Because Rodney, it's no surprise you've had some after Silicis. Hell, I've had one or two doozies since then. I know it's no fun that they showed up in the garden room, but the truth is, the only scary thing I saw in there was you starting to freak out."
"Sorry about that," Rodney grumbled, annoyed.
"But come on, it's not your dreams that gave me a mother of a headache. That was just going back to the garden room too fast. Though you know, it probably was your dream that made your heart rate jump up enough to scare Carson the way it did. "
Rodney hadn't thought about it in that light. "So you didn't see -- Did you notice what color the door was?"
"When we were both tripping through the Shire? You mean the door Dr Z. was working on?"
"After that one. Around the corner."
Sheppard frowned, thinking. "There was another door?"
"There were doors all along that tunnel!"
"Yeah, I know. Calm down. I remember them, but I don't remember what color they were. Just door-colored, I guess."
Rodney sat back. "You really didn't notice," he finally said, as much to himself as to Sheppard.
"You obviously did. What color was it?"
It was on the tip of Rodney's tongue to tell him -- because how could anybody have missed that blazingly red, RED door?--but Sheppard hadn't even noticed. Weren't pilots supposed to have good eyes ? The clear implication was, even when they were sharing the same dream, it was still all in Rodney's head. He pushed himself away from the table. "You know something? You're right."
"Really?" Sheppard drawled, one eyebrow climbing towards his hair. "You sure you want to go on the record with that?"
Rodney didn't bother to respond to that crack. "I'm late for an appointment with Heightmeyer. I'll just have her wash out all the clutter still rattling around from Pompsukos' entertaining stint as Dr. Frankenstein, and the next time we use the garden room it'll be fine."
"Right," John said slowly, "because psychiatry is so similar to your basic coin operated laundry."
"What?"
"I don't think you can just feed your quarters into the machine and choose the delicate cycle. "
Rodney was on his feet, ready to get moving "So it's not like a laundromat?"
"I just mean there's no hurry. You don't need to push your recovery now, right? We've got time."
"That's what Carson thinks," Rodney agreed without enthusiasm.
"Hey, Radek said he might stop by after dinner tonight. He expects the labs to be a zoo after your meeting this afternoon. You should come by if you like. Work on relaxing."
"Wait a minute." Rodney was already walking away, but once he'd processed what John had said he turned on his heel. "Wait a minute. Is this like a Masonic handshake?"
John just grinned at him.
~~~
Next Chapter
The Red Door
(or, a Postmodern Prometheus)
Previous Chapter
Chapter 14
Atlantis' Rinse Cycle
Rodney realized how much worse it was all about to get when Kate Heightmeyer told him he had a meeting scheduled with Carson and Elizabeth first, and afterwards, she would be very happy to talk to him.
Crap.
He fortified himself with extra coffee, and though he didn't quite trust his left hand to carry the brimming mug, he enjoyed a private moment of triumph as he pulled the chair out for himself before setting his coffee down. Then he looked up and saw Carson smiling indulgently. So, not so private after all. Rodney scowled back at him and took the bull by the horns. "I'm strong enough to send back to Earth, now, aren't I?"
Elizabeth and Carson exchanged a look Rodney couldn't read, then both started to talk at the same time. Elizabeth broke off, and waved at Carson to continue. With an apologetic shrug of the shoulders, he said, "I don't think there would be any problems with a return trip on the Daedalus now if you want to go. The most recent MRIs indicate the areas of necrosis have stabilized, even retreated to a not-insignificant degree. I suppose I hadn't realized you were waiting for the opportunity to go home."
Rodney suddenly felt exhilarated and furious. "Well yes, of course I want to walk away from the most important work of my life, as well as my only chance for a complete recovery! What else have I been waiting for?"
"Rodney," Elizabeth chided gently.
"Let me just get this straight. You're not about to ship me off? Then what is this all about? Christ, do you people know you nearly gave me a heart attack?"
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth leaned forward and patted Rodney's hand, which did very little to comfort him. "Actually this is about the garden room."
"Yes?" Rodney said suspiciously, with a sharp glance at Carson. "It must be really bad news if you had to haul Elizabeth in for backup."
"I understand your progress has been extraordinary so far," she continued, unperturbed.
Rodney couldn't help it. He thrummed the fingers of his left hand on the tabletop in a little victory march. Elizabeth smiled, but Carson took up the story. "And now that you've recovered so much range of motion in your shoulder, your gait should improve fairly rapidly as well. We've talked, you know, about the way your left arm compromised your ability to walk almost as much as the direct neural damage."
Rodney got it then. He just didn't believe it yet. "I'm going to make even faster progress in the garden room."
"That's what Elizabeth and I want to talk to you about. We think it might be safer not to use the garden room again."
"Stop now? You're serious." Rodney didn't trust himself to speak, but didn't let that stop him. "You hold out the possibility of a complete cure, and then you take it away because I've been having bad dreams? No. No, you can't be serious."
"Rodney, you're healing now. There may be no need for the garden room, and given the risks, and how little we understand--"
"The risk that the neurons in my hypothalamus haven't permanently called off their death march? That it starts again a few years down the road, say, when I'm not in Atlantis anymore? That makes no sense. We have access to an effective treatment now. Have you talked to Colonel Sheppard about this? To Dr. Zelenka?"
Elizabeth and Carson exchanged a glance. Rodney was quickly deciding he really hated those knowing looks.
"No," Elizabeth said. "We wanted to speak to you first. They're both very -- protective since Silicis. It's possible they're not capable of entirely objective reasoning where you're concerned."
"So you think they would allow me to hurt myself in the garden room? How does that make any sense whatsoever? They want me to get better. I want me to get better." Rodney shook his head mulishly. "Are you telling me you won't allow me to use the garden room again?" Rodney was already marshaling all the reasons they had no right to bar him from treatment, but Carson held out his hand.
"I don't believe either of us have that authority. Forgive me, Elizabeth. I don't mean to speak for you."
"It's all right," she agreed quietly.
Carson continued, "I just wanted you to consider another possibility, and to keep in mind that you're exposing John to the same high energy particles. Rodney, you know the colonel won't say no to you."
"I don't know any such thing," Rodney grumbled. "Seems to me he says no all the time." But the truth was, he completely understood Carson, and he couldn't quite meet his eyes. "The problem last time was my own bad dreams. Dr. Heightmeyer's going to help me wash and drip-dry my brains, and I'll be ready to give it another go."
"Will you agree we won't proceed further until Kate is comfortable with the prospect?" Carson asked, not sounding happy.
Rodney was fairly confident of his ability to steamroller Heightmeyer in a pinch. "Sounds reasonable. Now Elizabeth--" Rodney sat up straighter and finished off his coffee. "Just so this little meeting won't be a complete waste of time: consider this your official notice of my final decision on the Thrope and Mowbry project.
She shook her head as though to clear it. "Your final decision?"
"This is strictly a matter of energy generation and consumption, or are you going to argue that doesn't fall under my purview?"
"No, I don't mean to imply that in the least."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. I've scheduled a meeting this afternoon, where I'll explain to all and sundry that as tempting as the prospect of restoring Atlantis may be -- and I'd like to have the luxury to do that as much as anyone -- as long as we're barely hanging on by our fingernails here, generating energy has to take precedence over expending it."
Elizabeth's shoulders slumped a bit, which annoyed Rodney more than it should have. "It's not like we're destroying anything! If we find a ZPM tomorrow, we'll haul the cyclic heat generator out of the ocean and use the pieces to rebuild the broken towers. Well, Radek's generator isn't actually built yet, but once it is. Anyway, I suspect Thrope and Mowbry will come whining to you immediately after my meeting, so I thought a heads up was the least I could do."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said formally, but for some reason she still looked a little shell-shocked.
Although there was no question Rodney was one hundred percent right, he still went to look up Sheppard before his appointment with Heightmeyer. He found him in the mostly-empty mid-morning mess, nursing a cup of coffee and noodling with the duty roster. He glanced up at Rodney's approach. "Hey there, McKay." Rodney instantly gave into the temptation to preen, swinging his left arm to demonstrate how well his shoulder worked now. Sheppard grinned. "Any reason you're not down in the lab this morning making Dr. Z.'s life miserable?"
Rodney sat down across the table. "Carson and Elizabeth called me in for a meeting."
Sheppard clucked in sympathy. Most of his attention was still on his laptop.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you -- how's your head?"
"Good as far as I know. Any reason it wouldn't be? Oh, you mean the headache I got after the garden room. Is that what Beckett and Weir cornered you over? I'm fine. It was gone before Beckett even let me out of the infirmary yesterday."
Rodney nodded. "Good. I was a little concerned. Well, no, actually I wasn't, not until this morning."
"Rodney, I'm touched."
"--because you wouldn't -- the thing is, they both implied -- actually they didn't imply, they flat out said you would be willing to go on with the garden room treatments even if they were dangerous. To you, I mean. Just as long as the room was helping me."
John shook his head. "I should go have a talk with Elizabeth. McKay, don't worry about it. Honestly. Does that sound like something I would do?"
"Let's see. Reckless disregard for your own safety?" Sudden realization struck hard. "Oh my god, they're right. It is exactly the sort of thing you would do."
"All right, stop. Not one step further with this. I don't want to end up with my brains dribbling out my ears any more than you do. Are you forgetting we're in there together?"
"No, right, of course. Of course. That's not the point. Well it is but--"
Sheppard reached across the table and grasped Rodney's wrist. "I mean it. Knock it off."
Rodney nodded too fast and tried not to say anything.
"There," Sheppard pushed his mug across the table. "Have some coffee. Take a deep breath. Not at the same time."
Rodney scowled, but not very seriously. He drank the cold coffee and took a few deep breaths. Neither helped.
"This is about your bad dreams, right? Because Rodney, it's no surprise you've had some after Silicis. Hell, I've had one or two doozies since then. I know it's no fun that they showed up in the garden room, but the truth is, the only scary thing I saw in there was you starting to freak out."
"Sorry about that," Rodney grumbled, annoyed.
"But come on, it's not your dreams that gave me a mother of a headache. That was just going back to the garden room too fast. Though you know, it probably was your dream that made your heart rate jump up enough to scare Carson the way it did. "
Rodney hadn't thought about it in that light. "So you didn't see -- Did you notice what color the door was?"
"When we were both tripping through the Shire? You mean the door Dr Z. was working on?"
"After that one. Around the corner."
Sheppard frowned, thinking. "There was another door?"
"There were doors all along that tunnel!"
"Yeah, I know. Calm down. I remember them, but I don't remember what color they were. Just door-colored, I guess."
Rodney sat back. "You really didn't notice," he finally said, as much to himself as to Sheppard.
"You obviously did. What color was it?"
It was on the tip of Rodney's tongue to tell him -- because how could anybody have missed that blazingly red, RED door?--but Sheppard hadn't even noticed. Weren't pilots supposed to have good eyes ? The clear implication was, even when they were sharing the same dream, it was still all in Rodney's head. He pushed himself away from the table. "You know something? You're right."
"Really?" Sheppard drawled, one eyebrow climbing towards his hair. "You sure you want to go on the record with that?"
Rodney didn't bother to respond to that crack. "I'm late for an appointment with Heightmeyer. I'll just have her wash out all the clutter still rattling around from Pompsukos' entertaining stint as Dr. Frankenstein, and the next time we use the garden room it'll be fine."
"Right," John said slowly, "because psychiatry is so similar to your basic coin operated laundry."
"What?"
"I don't think you can just feed your quarters into the machine and choose the delicate cycle. "
Rodney was on his feet, ready to get moving "So it's not like a laundromat?"
"I just mean there's no hurry. You don't need to push your recovery now, right? We've got time."
"That's what Carson thinks," Rodney agreed without enthusiasm.
"Hey, Radek said he might stop by after dinner tonight. He expects the labs to be a zoo after your meeting this afternoon. You should come by if you like. Work on relaxing."
"Wait a minute." Rodney was already walking away, but once he'd processed what John had said he turned on his heel. "Wait a minute. Is this like a Masonic handshake?"
John just grinned at him.
~~~
Next Chapter