The Fallout
Rodney McKay sat at his desk, shoulders slumped, a certain piece of paper in a certain frame clutched in his hands. He didn't need the PhD to tell him he was smart - he knew very well the boundlessness of his own intelligence - but since That Weekend it had been staring at him from the wall, mockingly. So that morning he took it down and stared back.
He was still trying not to think about That Weekend. Oh, he'd been happy during, but that was no comfort and in fact almost made it worse. He'd spent the entire weekend as a happy, dumb hick who wouldn't have known the difference between a neutron and an electron, and to make matters even more horrifying he'd almost made himself eat lemons. Lemons!
He was back to normal now, but he found himself with less confidence in his own mental faculties than usual. If they could be snatched from him in an instant like that, leaving him ignorant of the change itself, how could he rely on his own mind? How could he rely on anything? His intelligence had been the one, consistent thing that had helped him survive his whole life, and now...it wasn't.
Oh, and there had been that getting married business, too.
Rodney groaned aloud as he remembered. The proposal, asking Sheppard to be best man, Carson, the suit...As if the whole weekend hadn't been traumatizing enough. It had scared the hell out of him. He was fairly certain he was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, if the twitch he'd developed every time he looked at Jill was any indication. Oh, sure, he loved her, but marriage...he'd thought about it with Katie, had even gone so far as to start looking at rings, but he was fairly certain he never would have gone through with it, now.
And what if Jill wanted to get married? She'd been...affected too, but that didn't stop Rodney from wondering, and worrying. He worried so much he went so far as to avoid her when he could, making excuses not to stay the night and vice versa. He started working on the Wraith translations from the databanks again, even though he'd been through most of it more than once. He went for walks. But he knew he couldn't keep it up forever, and now here he was, staring at his diplomas and awards and wondering if they really counted for anything here, in a place where he couldn't even be sure of his own IQ from one day to the next.
Or - and this was almost as bad - his marital status.
He was still trying not to think about That Weekend. Oh, he'd been happy during, but that was no comfort and in fact almost made it worse. He'd spent the entire weekend as a happy, dumb hick who wouldn't have known the difference between a neutron and an electron, and to make matters even more horrifying he'd almost made himself eat lemons. Lemons!
He was back to normal now, but he found himself with less confidence in his own mental faculties than usual. If they could be snatched from him in an instant like that, leaving him ignorant of the change itself, how could he rely on his own mind? How could he rely on anything? His intelligence had been the one, consistent thing that had helped him survive his whole life, and now...it wasn't.
Oh, and there had been that getting married business, too.
Rodney groaned aloud as he remembered. The proposal, asking Sheppard to be best man, Carson, the suit...As if the whole weekend hadn't been traumatizing enough. It had scared the hell out of him. He was fairly certain he was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, if the twitch he'd developed every time he looked at Jill was any indication. Oh, sure, he loved her, but marriage...he'd thought about it with Katie, had even gone so far as to start looking at rings, but he was fairly certain he never would have gone through with it, now.
And what if Jill wanted to get married? She'd been...affected too, but that didn't stop Rodney from wondering, and worrying. He worried so much he went so far as to avoid her when he could, making excuses not to stay the night and vice versa. He started working on the Wraith translations from the databanks again, even though he'd been through most of it more than once. He went for walks. But he knew he couldn't keep it up forever, and now here he was, staring at his diplomas and awards and wondering if they really counted for anything here, in a place where he couldn't even be sure of his own IQ from one day to the next.
Or - and this was almost as bad - his marital status.