SGA Fic: Reclaiming (Sheppard, McKay, pg)
I'm jumping back in after having taken a writing break over the last few months. This story never would've happened without cheerleading and handholding from lcsbanana and perishtwice. docmichelle and isiscolo provided more of the same, with the added bonus of some lovely betas. Any mistakes left in this are so very mine.
Also, this is a post-ep fic for The Long Goodbye, which means that there are much spoilers! Spoilers abound!
It figures Sheppard would’ve come here, Rodney realizes as he huffs his way up yet another flight of stairs. Only three people in Atlantis understand the significance of the pier, and Sheppard probably thinks he’ll be safe and alone.
He’s half-right. Elizabeth is currently pretending that nothing happened and usually a hike like this is the kind of thing Rodney avoids as much as possible. There’ve been many times when he’s tried to talk to Sheppard: after death, after failure, after betrayal. Sheppard just buries himself somewhere deep in Atlantis, far enough away that Rodney won’t follow.
He’s following today.
Knowing he’s out there is one thing, but it’s still a physical punch to see Sheppard sitting scrunched up with his back against the power station, taking up as little space as possible, headset lying on the ground beside him.
Sheppard doesn’t turn his head at the whoosh of the door. “What do you want, McKay?” Even his voice sounds weary. “I’m off duty.”
Rodney lowers himself to the ground so he’s facing Sheppard. “You still have my palm pilot.”
Sheppard blinks. “You didn’t come to talk?” If he really thinks Rodney is serious, it’s a worrisome sign of how far he’s off his game.
“Of course I came to talk to you.” Rodney rolls his eyes. “Do we really have to persist in this charade? If we skip the parts of the conversation where you deny everything and I interrogate and then you deny some more but finally give in and talk, we could be back in time for dinner. I’m starving.
Sheppard snorts a little. “You never pull your punches, do you.” It’s not a question.
“Never. If I did, you wouldn’t like me half as much as you do now.”
“Who says I like you at all?”
Rodney says nothing in return, just watches Sheppard’s face until he colors and turns away.
**
“Last I saw him, he was heading down that corridor,” Lorne told him with an easy smile, but Rodney wasn’t fooled.
“Don’t waste my time, Major,” Rodney said.
Lorne stared at him for long seconds, and then walked Rodney over to the transporter map and pointed. “Here,” he said. “He hasn’t moved in over an hour.”
**
Rodney’s used to his mind being public property. Academia is comprised of letting all and sundry into your brain to poke around as much as they wish. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again.
Although having Cadman in his head had been a singularly unpleasant experience, he knows it’s nothing compared to what happened to Sheppard. Cadman used and controlled Rodney, but he’d always been able to wrest his control back long enough to make it clear how he felt about things, to make it clear he was still himself. Sheppard had no such choice.
It doesn’t take a genius to see why he’s upset. Having your body and brain taken over by somebody who doesn’t have your best interests in mind is scary enough for most people. It must be terrifying to a control-freak like Sheppard, who’s bound and determined to keep himself tightly under wraps.
**
“These kind of things happen all the time,” Elizabeth told him, signing forms with such force she was about to rip the paper. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
**
“They trained us, you know,” Sheppard says suddenly after twenty minutes of quiet. It’s been hard keeping still and silent for that long, but pushing Sheppard has never gotten Rodney much success.
“Hmm,” he says and hopes it’s enough for Sheppard to continue.
It is. “I’ve been captured more times that I can count.” There’s no bragging in his voice, just flatness. “I learned how to resist pain, more pain than you could imagine.”
Rodney nods. “I’m sure you were very good at it.”
Sheppard turns to Rodney and his eyes are bleak. “I am. I learned about rape and drugs and things I hope you never have to know about. I thought I was prepared.”
More silence, and Rodney thinks about the best way to handle this. If it were Heightmeyer or Elizabeth, they’d encourage Sheppard to open up and share his feelings. They don’t know Sheppard at all. All he can do is sit and hope that Sheppard comes to him.
“There’s always a breaking point. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, how much willpower you have, everybody breaks. Eventually you talk. But -“
“But nobody’s ever gotten into your brain before,” Rodney says.
**
“He’s screaming in my head like you wouldn’t believe,” Ronon repeated afterward. "He cares about you more than you know,” Teyla had added, and Rodney (who knew Sheppard better than Sheppard liked to pretend) went cold inside.
**
“They only knew what I wanted them to know. I only told what I wanted to tell.” Sheppard’s voice is low. “But with Thelan -“ the flinch is so small Rodney barely sees it “- I had no choice.”
“He said things for you.” Rodney’s never understood the benefit of swallowing thoughts and feelings. He has enough reasons for his ulcers already; he doesn’t need to run around repressing and hiding all the time.
“He twisted them around, made them sound different than what they were.”
There’s more silence but this time Rodney can’t wait, has to break it because Sheppard never will.
“It’s a violation,” he says, and Sheppard looks startled.
“I don’t know that I’d really put it that way,” he says, and Rodney can hear the attempt at lightness, the need to return to the status quo.
“I would. You were violated and it happened, it sucked. It always sucks.”
“Yeah,” Sheppard says slowly. “It does suck.”
There’s not much more Rodney can do. If and when Sheppard needs to talk more about it, he’ll go to Heightmeyer and he’ll know what to say. For now, all Rodney can do is sit there with Sheppard and listen to the ocean, watch the setting sun.
He doesn’t see Sheppard move, but suddenly Sheppard’s fingers brush against his and then stay, barely touching but never leaving.
Rodney sits and stares at the water, occasionally watching Sheppard out of the corner of his eye. He thinks about hours of crushing pressure and darkness, how it felt to slowly rise back up to the light with Sheppard leading the way - and he moves a little closer.
Also, this is a post-ep fic for The Long Goodbye, which means that there are much spoilers! Spoilers abound!
It figures Sheppard would’ve come here, Rodney realizes as he huffs his way up yet another flight of stairs. Only three people in Atlantis understand the significance of the pier, and Sheppard probably thinks he’ll be safe and alone.
He’s half-right. Elizabeth is currently pretending that nothing happened and usually a hike like this is the kind of thing Rodney avoids as much as possible. There’ve been many times when he’s tried to talk to Sheppard: after death, after failure, after betrayal. Sheppard just buries himself somewhere deep in Atlantis, far enough away that Rodney won’t follow.
He’s following today.
Knowing he’s out there is one thing, but it’s still a physical punch to see Sheppard sitting scrunched up with his back against the power station, taking up as little space as possible, headset lying on the ground beside him.
Sheppard doesn’t turn his head at the whoosh of the door. “What do you want, McKay?” Even his voice sounds weary. “I’m off duty.”
Rodney lowers himself to the ground so he’s facing Sheppard. “You still have my palm pilot.”
Sheppard blinks. “You didn’t come to talk?” If he really thinks Rodney is serious, it’s a worrisome sign of how far he’s off his game.
“Of course I came to talk to you.” Rodney rolls his eyes. “Do we really have to persist in this charade? If we skip the parts of the conversation where you deny everything and I interrogate and then you deny some more but finally give in and talk, we could be back in time for dinner. I’m starving.
Sheppard snorts a little. “You never pull your punches, do you.” It’s not a question.
“Never. If I did, you wouldn’t like me half as much as you do now.”
“Who says I like you at all?”
Rodney says nothing in return, just watches Sheppard’s face until he colors and turns away.
**
“Last I saw him, he was heading down that corridor,” Lorne told him with an easy smile, but Rodney wasn’t fooled.
“Don’t waste my time, Major,” Rodney said.
Lorne stared at him for long seconds, and then walked Rodney over to the transporter map and pointed. “Here,” he said. “He hasn’t moved in over an hour.”
**
Rodney’s used to his mind being public property. Academia is comprised of letting all and sundry into your brain to poke around as much as they wish. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again.
Although having Cadman in his head had been a singularly unpleasant experience, he knows it’s nothing compared to what happened to Sheppard. Cadman used and controlled Rodney, but he’d always been able to wrest his control back long enough to make it clear how he felt about things, to make it clear he was still himself. Sheppard had no such choice.
It doesn’t take a genius to see why he’s upset. Having your body and brain taken over by somebody who doesn’t have your best interests in mind is scary enough for most people. It must be terrifying to a control-freak like Sheppard, who’s bound and determined to keep himself tightly under wraps.
**
“These kind of things happen all the time,” Elizabeth told him, signing forms with such force she was about to rip the paper. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
**
“They trained us, you know,” Sheppard says suddenly after twenty minutes of quiet. It’s been hard keeping still and silent for that long, but pushing Sheppard has never gotten Rodney much success.
“Hmm,” he says and hopes it’s enough for Sheppard to continue.
It is. “I’ve been captured more times that I can count.” There’s no bragging in his voice, just flatness. “I learned how to resist pain, more pain than you could imagine.”
Rodney nods. “I’m sure you were very good at it.”
Sheppard turns to Rodney and his eyes are bleak. “I am. I learned about rape and drugs and things I hope you never have to know about. I thought I was prepared.”
More silence, and Rodney thinks about the best way to handle this. If it were Heightmeyer or Elizabeth, they’d encourage Sheppard to open up and share his feelings. They don’t know Sheppard at all. All he can do is sit and hope that Sheppard comes to him.
“There’s always a breaking point. It doesn’t matter how strong you are, how much willpower you have, everybody breaks. Eventually you talk. But -“
“But nobody’s ever gotten into your brain before,” Rodney says.
**
“He’s screaming in my head like you wouldn’t believe,” Ronon repeated afterward. "He cares about you more than you know,” Teyla had added, and Rodney (who knew Sheppard better than Sheppard liked to pretend) went cold inside.
**
“They only knew what I wanted them to know. I only told what I wanted to tell.” Sheppard’s voice is low. “But with Thelan -“ the flinch is so small Rodney barely sees it “- I had no choice.”
“He said things for you.” Rodney’s never understood the benefit of swallowing thoughts and feelings. He has enough reasons for his ulcers already; he doesn’t need to run around repressing and hiding all the time.
“He twisted them around, made them sound different than what they were.”
There’s more silence but this time Rodney can’t wait, has to break it because Sheppard never will.
“It’s a violation,” he says, and Sheppard looks startled.
“I don’t know that I’d really put it that way,” he says, and Rodney can hear the attempt at lightness, the need to return to the status quo.
“I would. You were violated and it happened, it sucked. It always sucks.”
“Yeah,” Sheppard says slowly. “It does suck.”
There’s not much more Rodney can do. If and when Sheppard needs to talk more about it, he’ll go to Heightmeyer and he’ll know what to say. For now, all Rodney can do is sit there with Sheppard and listen to the ocean, watch the setting sun.
He doesn’t see Sheppard move, but suddenly Sheppard’s fingers brush against his and then stay, barely touching but never leaving.
Rodney sits and stares at the water, occasionally watching Sheppard out of the corner of his eye. He thinks about hours of crushing pressure and darkness, how it felt to slowly rise back up to the light with Sheppard leading the way - and he moves a little closer.