Monday Fic Spam: Trinity's Fall (McShep, R)
Title: Trinity's Fall
Author: lavvyan
Rating: R for language and overall situation
Summary: Rodney thinks he's tried hard enough by now. Tag for Trinity (obviously).
Notes: This is a little older (if someone who's just been writing in this fandom for half a year can call anything "old"). You may have already read it on Wraithbait. I changed a few things, though.
~~~
Trinity's Fall
Feet dangling over several hundred feet of nothing but thin air, Rodney wondered why the Ancients didn't have force fields under their balconies.
It would make sense, wouldn't it? Surely Earth scientists weren't the only ones who ever slipped and fell, barely managing to grab the railing with one hand and completely unable to pull themselves back to safety? You'd think there had been accidents before, right?
Rodney blamed his situation on the combination of wind and slippery floor, but he knew he had been careless. Alright, so the balcony happened to have a small shield generator, which for some unknown reason had started to draw energy they really needed otherwise, and somebody had to fix it, bad weather or no bad weather, But.
Yes, kids, huge But, with a very capital B. Never, ever try to get a hold on your laptop when said piece of equipment gets catapulted towards the balcony's edge by an especially vicious gust of wind, and never, never ever be so stupid as to lean over the railing when doing so. Never.
Too bad he couldn't share the lesson. The laptop had gone the way of things dropping from impressive heights and impacting on the ocean surface, and Rodney had a feeling he wasn't really that far behind. Not that anybody would miss him. Or even notice he was gone.
His arm was really screaming at him now. The wind that kept pulling at him wasn't a big help, either. He could almost hear his own personal clock of life, counting down his last precious seconds. It was almost poetic, adding one last failure to his ever growing list. To survive all of last year's shit just to fall from a balcony. People who blew up solar systems probably didn't deserve meaningful deaths.
Over the wind he barely heard the balcony doors swish open.
Footsteps.
"McKay? You here?"
Oh God.
"Here, Colonel," he managed through gritted teeth, another wave of agony rushing through abused muscles as he tried - and failed - once again to pull himself up at least far enough to grab the railing with his other hand. Seconds. Really mere seconds now.
Sheppard's face appeared over the balcony's edge.
"Dammit, McKay, what have you done now?" he asked, leaning down, hand stretched out.
And suddenly, looking into the Colonel's face, seeing the same mix of impatience and annoyance and a hint of contempt that had been present ever since he had made his most enormous mistake ever on a world called Duranda, Rodney could see his future: That expression wouldn't go away. And neither would the whispers, the averted gazes, the silence. The isolation.
The loneliness.
And he found that while before Atlantis he had been coping just fine with his one friend called solitude, he simply couldn't do it anymore.
"I'm not Superman."
"Was anyone seriously thinking that?"
You all did, he thought, and now I failed and your little house of cards collapsed, and you blame me, because maybe for the first time you feel like perhaps we won't pull trough, that the bad guys might win and we'll all be dead.
"Give me your hand, McKay."
You blame me.
And what was the point in having your work checked and double checked behind your back, in having people you thought were your friends look away when you entered the mess hall, afraid you might sit down at their table, if all your efforts to atone wouldn't change a thing? Why try so hard to earn back the trust you lost when, after all, it was so much easier for them to keep you at arm's length, because who knew when you would fail again?
Why indeed, knowing it was completely useless?
He blinked at his revelation, stared up at the Colonel with surprise and a hint of resentment when the feeling of having been betrayed hit him. You said I could get it back if I really tried, he thought, but you were lying, you were never willing to give me a chance, were you? Well, fuck you, John!
And as his very last second ticked by he could see Sheppard's expression change from impatience to confusion to realization, paired with something he might have called horror, panic even, if the mere thought hadn't been so absurd.
"Rodney, don't!"
He let go.
~~~
Huh.
So there had been force fields, after all. Slowing his fall, then halting it, before setting him to solid ground just above the crashing waves.
Of course that meant that now he was on the city's lowest level, left with whatever tools he hadn't lost before - which weren't many - and no light. Go figure. And his artificial ATA-gene was of no use at all, so he had no other way of making it back to the occupied regions of Atlantis but on foot, passing doorways by opening the panels and fiddling with the insides, left-handed, since his right arm was throbbing mercilessly now.
Rodney cursed as he climbed another flight of stairs. Of course he had lost his radio during his spectacular stunt. While he knew he'd be the laughing stock of the city for weeks to come, it would have been nice if he had been able to tell somebody where he was. They would have helped him. Eventually.
I bet the Major is telling the tale right now, he thought, stopping to work on another in what seemed like an endless row of panels. Colonel, I mean. I bet they're howling with laughter. Rodney McKay, not even getting his own death right. Some genius.
He sighed miserably, and trotted on through opened doors. One dark corridor faded into another, and another, and oh, look, stairs. I bet they'll have assigned a new department head by now. It was just a question of time, after all. I bet they're not coming down here because they're busy cleaning out my lab.
And really, what had he expected? That Sheppard would send in the cavalry, to go find one egoistic, arrogant scientist? They hadn't cared the last few weeks, why would they start now?
Maybe I should just go. Take the ride home next time the Daedalus returns. Rodney McKay had never been a quitter. Not when his parents had told him to study something you could actually make a living by instead of astrophysics, which for them seemed to be as much of a science as astrology. Not when the SGC had exiled him to Russia. But he guessed he had started running away when he had let go of that railing, so he might as well take the next logical step and resign. For the first time in his life, he was truly ready to just let it be.
He'd talk to Elizabeth once he got back. She'd be glad to have him out of her hair, that much was for sure. She and Sheppard both.
Sheppard. He wondered if the friendship he had started to rely on had ever been real. Did you drop your friends like that? He wasn't sure, he'd never been in a situation to ask that question before. Except he was pretty sure that true friendship had something to do with forgiveness. Should have known it was too good to be true.
It would have been nice though, for a change. To have somebody to rely on, to hold on to. He had thought that maybe the Colonel could be that person. Well, another mistake. He really should have known better.
Yet, it would have been nice.
Thirteen hours and his two meagre power bars later, Rodney was more than a little cranky. Sure, his role as a pariah had been made perfectly clear lately, but still. It couldn't be too much to ask for somebody to look for him, could it? He was sure there had to be some kind of procedure for things like this. Go bring back the lost scientist, even if you don't like him. Weren't there rules for that kind of stuff in the military? Rodney was still part of the Atlantis expedition team, after all.
As he made his way through familiar corridors, he noticed that the city was eerily quiet. Of course, it was way after midnight by now, but normally that meant nothing. The usual hustle and bustle of the day might be a bit subdued, yet there was always something going on, people passing by, sounds and snippets of conversations drifting through Atlantis' hallways. Not tonight.
Rodney passed empty science labs, shaking his head in puzzlement, before he reached his own. A lone figure stood in front of one of the lab tables, cursing quietly, gaze fixed on a monitor, fingers dancing across the keyboard.
"Kavanagh," he said tiredly, announcing his presence. And was stunned when the other scientist flinched violently before spinning around, gasping.
"Jesus, McKay!"
"What?" he snapped back defensively. It was his lab, at least until Elizabeth told him otherwise.
They stared at each other. Finally, Kavanagh cleared his throat.
"I see rumours of your death are a bit of an exaggeration."
"My... what?" Rodney asked, blinking.
"You fell from a balcony, or so they say."
So Sheppard hadn't seen his fall slow down and then stop altogether. Huh. Of course in that case nobody would look for him. They thought he was dead.
"Force fields," he said by way of explanation.
"Ah."
They stared at each other once more, until, unexpectedly, Kavanagh started to grin.
"I guess it figures you'd be haunting me."
Rodney couldn't keep himself from grinning back.
"Well, you would be on top of the list."
Both men chuckled. They didn't really like each other, and tomorrow there'd be bitching, whining, and complaining as usual, but right now, they shared a moment of companionship.
Rodney's stomach chose that moment to rumble, and Kavanagh's grin widened. He reached into a pocket and tossed a power bar at McKay, who opened it quickly. His colleague watched as he greedily took the first bite.
"It's a good thing you're not dead," he stated quietly.
Rodney nodded, still chewing.
Yes. Maybe it was.
~~~
Rodney's confusion grew as he stood inside the doorway to the infirmary. The pretty brunet nurse who was the only one that managed not to hurt him like hell when she gave him an allergy shot was sitting on one of the beds, back to him, sniffling. He was starting to wonder what had happened while he was down in the bowels of the city. Quiet hallways, crying nurses? Maybe Sheppard had fallen, too? But no, then his dialogue with Kavanagh would have been quite different. Well, whatever it was, she could tell him while she gave him something for the pain. Cradling his arm, he cleared his throat.
She turned, and for a moment just stared at him. Then she scrambled to her feet, almost falling from the bed in her haste.
"Dr. McKay!"
Her disbelieving exclamation was followed by a crash of something that sounded like glass from Carson's office. Rodney could hear footsteps rushing to the door, which flew open, and revealed a familiar figure.
God. Carson looks like hell, was the first thought that shot through his mind at the sight of the Scottish doctor. Red-rimmed eyes, with dark smudges beneath them, blinked at him from a tired face.
"Rodney." It was nothing more than a breathless sigh.
"Carson?" he asked, perplexed.
And suddenly Rodney found himself in a hug that pressed the air from his lungs and sent new waves of pain through his arm, but he barely noticed. He just stood as his friend held on tightly, feeling the tremors run through the other man's body, and looking at the now openly crying nurse. With an almost audible click the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and it all made sense. They thought I was dead, oh God, they were mourning me. The whole city is mourning me. He struggled to get his mind around the concept, and still had trouble believing he was right, when Carson's words confirmed it.
"Bloody hell, Rodney, we thought you were gone!" The doctor let out a shaky laugh, squeezing him one last time before holding him at arm's length, looking at him from a tear-streaked face that nevertheless wore the brightest smile Rodney had ever seen on the man.
"Force fields," he stupidly repeated his earlier explanation to Kavanagh. "They stopped my fall."
"Why the hell didn't you call someone?"
"I lost my radio. I had to make my way back alone."
Carson shook his head. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear?" he said, before blowing his nose noisily. "Really, I mean it. Next time you pull a stunt like that, I won't guarantee for nothing."
"Sorry," was all that came to his mind.
His friend regarded him with a sober expression. "Nah. I'm sorry. We left you to fight for your own. That was cruel."
"It's okay."
"Nay, it's not!" Carson hissed fiercely, making it clear that he wasn't just talking about the day that had just passed. "I've been a crappy friend, and I'm incredibly sorry about that. Lord knows you've got every right to be pissed."
"Carson, I screwed up," Rodney answered incredulously. "I understand why you all pulled back. You don't need to feel sorry for anything."
"Aye, I do. And I hope you'll let me make it up to you," the doctor said sincerely, and the sheer intensity made Rodney feel uncomfortable.
"Well, you could start with fixing my arm," he allowed, silently accepting Carson's apology. It would shut the good doctor up, and right now, that was pretty much all he wanted. And maybe it was time for all of them to let things go. "I think I pulled something when I was hanging from that damn balcony." Although it was a waste of a perfectly good grudge.
Carson cleared his throat, his smile returning. "Well, let's have a look then, shan't we?"
Rodney started when he felt a hand on his good arm. The nurse smiled at him.
"Welcome back, Dr. McKay."
Huh. On the other hand, maybe grudges were overrated.
It didn't take long for Carson to put his arm in a sling and send him to his quarters with a strip of pain killers.
"I'll call Elizabeth. You just go get some rest, lad."
The physicist didn't argue. He hadn't slept in more than a day, and he was dead on his feet. His bed was calling to him with a siren's voice that grew sweeter by the minute.
Which made it an even bigger shame that his bed was already occupied.
Rodney stood in his barely lit room, disbelief warring with a warm, fuzzy feeling he didn't dare to name. As quietly as he could, he made his way to the bed, looking down on the man curled up on top of the covers.
"Colonel," he called softly, watching as his friend stirred slightly, barely suppressing a smile. He missed me, he realized, the warm feeling growing. He missed me, so he came here. Maybe it was the true thing, after all. Maybe he could dare to believe in friendship. Even if it had taken a fall to the very bottom, literally, to drive that home. To all of them.
"Colonel," he repeated. Sheppard made a small noise, and hazel eyes slowly opened to look sleepily up at him. They widened as recognition was marked by a sharp intake of breath.
"Rodney?" The question was soft, hesitant, as if asking too loudly would make him disappear.
"Yeah, it's me," he answered, vaguely waving his left hand. "I'm not dead."
"Rodney?" again, hope desperately reined in as the man sat up, tentatively reaching out for him. A sigh as a warm hand connected with stubbled cheek and lingered for an endless moment. Rodney had to close his eyes against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Home, he thought stupidly.
"The Ancients had a very good security system," he managed when he dared to look again, forcing himself to keep his tone light.
The Colonel nodded, still not taking his hand away. Drinking in his sight.
"I lost you," he said quietly, in a voice that sounded like he was on the verge of tears, although his eyes were dry.
"I lost myself," Rodney admitted in the same tone. "I'm here now, though," he added.
"Yes. You are." Sheppard's - John's - gaze held a world of wonder. And a promise. Rodney decided to trust that gaze. Do unto others, and all that stuff. Give before you take.
After that, it was amazingly easy to shed most of his clothes and crawl under the covers, always aware of the warm body behind him. Rodney put his left hand over the arm that had sneaked possessively around his waist, and held on tightly, before slowly drifting off to sleep.
I'm here now, was his last thought.
And here he would stay.
~~~
End.
Author: lavvyan
Rating: R for language and overall situation
Summary: Rodney thinks he's tried hard enough by now. Tag for Trinity (obviously).
Notes: This is a little older (if someone who's just been writing in this fandom for half a year can call anything "old"). You may have already read it on Wraithbait. I changed a few things, though.
~~~
Trinity's Fall
Feet dangling over several hundred feet of nothing but thin air, Rodney wondered why the Ancients didn't have force fields under their balconies.
It would make sense, wouldn't it? Surely Earth scientists weren't the only ones who ever slipped and fell, barely managing to grab the railing with one hand and completely unable to pull themselves back to safety? You'd think there had been accidents before, right?
Rodney blamed his situation on the combination of wind and slippery floor, but he knew he had been careless. Alright, so the balcony happened to have a small shield generator, which for some unknown reason had started to draw energy they really needed otherwise, and somebody had to fix it, bad weather or no bad weather, But.
Yes, kids, huge But, with a very capital B. Never, ever try to get a hold on your laptop when said piece of equipment gets catapulted towards the balcony's edge by an especially vicious gust of wind, and never, never ever be so stupid as to lean over the railing when doing so. Never.
Too bad he couldn't share the lesson. The laptop had gone the way of things dropping from impressive heights and impacting on the ocean surface, and Rodney had a feeling he wasn't really that far behind. Not that anybody would miss him. Or even notice he was gone.
His arm was really screaming at him now. The wind that kept pulling at him wasn't a big help, either. He could almost hear his own personal clock of life, counting down his last precious seconds. It was almost poetic, adding one last failure to his ever growing list. To survive all of last year's shit just to fall from a balcony. People who blew up solar systems probably didn't deserve meaningful deaths.
Over the wind he barely heard the balcony doors swish open.
Footsteps.
"McKay? You here?"
Oh God.
"Here, Colonel," he managed through gritted teeth, another wave of agony rushing through abused muscles as he tried - and failed - once again to pull himself up at least far enough to grab the railing with his other hand. Seconds. Really mere seconds now.
Sheppard's face appeared over the balcony's edge.
"Dammit, McKay, what have you done now?" he asked, leaning down, hand stretched out.
And suddenly, looking into the Colonel's face, seeing the same mix of impatience and annoyance and a hint of contempt that had been present ever since he had made his most enormous mistake ever on a world called Duranda, Rodney could see his future: That expression wouldn't go away. And neither would the whispers, the averted gazes, the silence. The isolation.
The loneliness.
And he found that while before Atlantis he had been coping just fine with his one friend called solitude, he simply couldn't do it anymore.
"I'm not Superman."
"Was anyone seriously thinking that?"
You all did, he thought, and now I failed and your little house of cards collapsed, and you blame me, because maybe for the first time you feel like perhaps we won't pull trough, that the bad guys might win and we'll all be dead.
"Give me your hand, McKay."
You blame me.
And what was the point in having your work checked and double checked behind your back, in having people you thought were your friends look away when you entered the mess hall, afraid you might sit down at their table, if all your efforts to atone wouldn't change a thing? Why try so hard to earn back the trust you lost when, after all, it was so much easier for them to keep you at arm's length, because who knew when you would fail again?
Why indeed, knowing it was completely useless?
He blinked at his revelation, stared up at the Colonel with surprise and a hint of resentment when the feeling of having been betrayed hit him. You said I could get it back if I really tried, he thought, but you were lying, you were never willing to give me a chance, were you? Well, fuck you, John!
And as his very last second ticked by he could see Sheppard's expression change from impatience to confusion to realization, paired with something he might have called horror, panic even, if the mere thought hadn't been so absurd.
"Rodney, don't!"
He let go.
~~~
Huh.
So there had been force fields, after all. Slowing his fall, then halting it, before setting him to solid ground just above the crashing waves.
Of course that meant that now he was on the city's lowest level, left with whatever tools he hadn't lost before - which weren't many - and no light. Go figure. And his artificial ATA-gene was of no use at all, so he had no other way of making it back to the occupied regions of Atlantis but on foot, passing doorways by opening the panels and fiddling with the insides, left-handed, since his right arm was throbbing mercilessly now.
Rodney cursed as he climbed another flight of stairs. Of course he had lost his radio during his spectacular stunt. While he knew he'd be the laughing stock of the city for weeks to come, it would have been nice if he had been able to tell somebody where he was. They would have helped him. Eventually.
I bet the Major is telling the tale right now, he thought, stopping to work on another in what seemed like an endless row of panels. Colonel, I mean. I bet they're howling with laughter. Rodney McKay, not even getting his own death right. Some genius.
He sighed miserably, and trotted on through opened doors. One dark corridor faded into another, and another, and oh, look, stairs. I bet they'll have assigned a new department head by now. It was just a question of time, after all. I bet they're not coming down here because they're busy cleaning out my lab.
And really, what had he expected? That Sheppard would send in the cavalry, to go find one egoistic, arrogant scientist? They hadn't cared the last few weeks, why would they start now?
Maybe I should just go. Take the ride home next time the Daedalus returns. Rodney McKay had never been a quitter. Not when his parents had told him to study something you could actually make a living by instead of astrophysics, which for them seemed to be as much of a science as astrology. Not when the SGC had exiled him to Russia. But he guessed he had started running away when he had let go of that railing, so he might as well take the next logical step and resign. For the first time in his life, he was truly ready to just let it be.
He'd talk to Elizabeth once he got back. She'd be glad to have him out of her hair, that much was for sure. She and Sheppard both.
Sheppard. He wondered if the friendship he had started to rely on had ever been real. Did you drop your friends like that? He wasn't sure, he'd never been in a situation to ask that question before. Except he was pretty sure that true friendship had something to do with forgiveness. Should have known it was too good to be true.
It would have been nice though, for a change. To have somebody to rely on, to hold on to. He had thought that maybe the Colonel could be that person. Well, another mistake. He really should have known better.
Yet, it would have been nice.
Thirteen hours and his two meagre power bars later, Rodney was more than a little cranky. Sure, his role as a pariah had been made perfectly clear lately, but still. It couldn't be too much to ask for somebody to look for him, could it? He was sure there had to be some kind of procedure for things like this. Go bring back the lost scientist, even if you don't like him. Weren't there rules for that kind of stuff in the military? Rodney was still part of the Atlantis expedition team, after all.
As he made his way through familiar corridors, he noticed that the city was eerily quiet. Of course, it was way after midnight by now, but normally that meant nothing. The usual hustle and bustle of the day might be a bit subdued, yet there was always something going on, people passing by, sounds and snippets of conversations drifting through Atlantis' hallways. Not tonight.
Rodney passed empty science labs, shaking his head in puzzlement, before he reached his own. A lone figure stood in front of one of the lab tables, cursing quietly, gaze fixed on a monitor, fingers dancing across the keyboard.
"Kavanagh," he said tiredly, announcing his presence. And was stunned when the other scientist flinched violently before spinning around, gasping.
"Jesus, McKay!"
"What?" he snapped back defensively. It was his lab, at least until Elizabeth told him otherwise.
They stared at each other. Finally, Kavanagh cleared his throat.
"I see rumours of your death are a bit of an exaggeration."
"My... what?" Rodney asked, blinking.
"You fell from a balcony, or so they say."
So Sheppard hadn't seen his fall slow down and then stop altogether. Huh. Of course in that case nobody would look for him. They thought he was dead.
"Force fields," he said by way of explanation.
"Ah."
They stared at each other once more, until, unexpectedly, Kavanagh started to grin.
"I guess it figures you'd be haunting me."
Rodney couldn't keep himself from grinning back.
"Well, you would be on top of the list."
Both men chuckled. They didn't really like each other, and tomorrow there'd be bitching, whining, and complaining as usual, but right now, they shared a moment of companionship.
Rodney's stomach chose that moment to rumble, and Kavanagh's grin widened. He reached into a pocket and tossed a power bar at McKay, who opened it quickly. His colleague watched as he greedily took the first bite.
"It's a good thing you're not dead," he stated quietly.
Rodney nodded, still chewing.
Yes. Maybe it was.
~~~
Rodney's confusion grew as he stood inside the doorway to the infirmary. The pretty brunet nurse who was the only one that managed not to hurt him like hell when she gave him an allergy shot was sitting on one of the beds, back to him, sniffling. He was starting to wonder what had happened while he was down in the bowels of the city. Quiet hallways, crying nurses? Maybe Sheppard had fallen, too? But no, then his dialogue with Kavanagh would have been quite different. Well, whatever it was, she could tell him while she gave him something for the pain. Cradling his arm, he cleared his throat.
She turned, and for a moment just stared at him. Then she scrambled to her feet, almost falling from the bed in her haste.
"Dr. McKay!"
Her disbelieving exclamation was followed by a crash of something that sounded like glass from Carson's office. Rodney could hear footsteps rushing to the door, which flew open, and revealed a familiar figure.
God. Carson looks like hell, was the first thought that shot through his mind at the sight of the Scottish doctor. Red-rimmed eyes, with dark smudges beneath them, blinked at him from a tired face.
"Rodney." It was nothing more than a breathless sigh.
"Carson?" he asked, perplexed.
And suddenly Rodney found himself in a hug that pressed the air from his lungs and sent new waves of pain through his arm, but he barely noticed. He just stood as his friend held on tightly, feeling the tremors run through the other man's body, and looking at the now openly crying nurse. With an almost audible click the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and it all made sense. They thought I was dead, oh God, they were mourning me. The whole city is mourning me. He struggled to get his mind around the concept, and still had trouble believing he was right, when Carson's words confirmed it.
"Bloody hell, Rodney, we thought you were gone!" The doctor let out a shaky laugh, squeezing him one last time before holding him at arm's length, looking at him from a tear-streaked face that nevertheless wore the brightest smile Rodney had ever seen on the man.
"Force fields," he stupidly repeated his earlier explanation to Kavanagh. "They stopped my fall."
"Why the hell didn't you call someone?"
"I lost my radio. I had to make my way back alone."
Carson shook his head. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear?" he said, before blowing his nose noisily. "Really, I mean it. Next time you pull a stunt like that, I won't guarantee for nothing."
"Sorry," was all that came to his mind.
His friend regarded him with a sober expression. "Nah. I'm sorry. We left you to fight for your own. That was cruel."
"It's okay."
"Nay, it's not!" Carson hissed fiercely, making it clear that he wasn't just talking about the day that had just passed. "I've been a crappy friend, and I'm incredibly sorry about that. Lord knows you've got every right to be pissed."
"Carson, I screwed up," Rodney answered incredulously. "I understand why you all pulled back. You don't need to feel sorry for anything."
"Aye, I do. And I hope you'll let me make it up to you," the doctor said sincerely, and the sheer intensity made Rodney feel uncomfortable.
"Well, you could start with fixing my arm," he allowed, silently accepting Carson's apology. It would shut the good doctor up, and right now, that was pretty much all he wanted. And maybe it was time for all of them to let things go. "I think I pulled something when I was hanging from that damn balcony." Although it was a waste of a perfectly good grudge.
Carson cleared his throat, his smile returning. "Well, let's have a look then, shan't we?"
Rodney started when he felt a hand on his good arm. The nurse smiled at him.
"Welcome back, Dr. McKay."
Huh. On the other hand, maybe grudges were overrated.
It didn't take long for Carson to put his arm in a sling and send him to his quarters with a strip of pain killers.
"I'll call Elizabeth. You just go get some rest, lad."
The physicist didn't argue. He hadn't slept in more than a day, and he was dead on his feet. His bed was calling to him with a siren's voice that grew sweeter by the minute.
Which made it an even bigger shame that his bed was already occupied.
Rodney stood in his barely lit room, disbelief warring with a warm, fuzzy feeling he didn't dare to name. As quietly as he could, he made his way to the bed, looking down on the man curled up on top of the covers.
"Colonel," he called softly, watching as his friend stirred slightly, barely suppressing a smile. He missed me, he realized, the warm feeling growing. He missed me, so he came here. Maybe it was the true thing, after all. Maybe he could dare to believe in friendship. Even if it had taken a fall to the very bottom, literally, to drive that home. To all of them.
"Colonel," he repeated. Sheppard made a small noise, and hazel eyes slowly opened to look sleepily up at him. They widened as recognition was marked by a sharp intake of breath.
"Rodney?" The question was soft, hesitant, as if asking too loudly would make him disappear.
"Yeah, it's me," he answered, vaguely waving his left hand. "I'm not dead."
"Rodney?" again, hope desperately reined in as the man sat up, tentatively reaching out for him. A sigh as a warm hand connected with stubbled cheek and lingered for an endless moment. Rodney had to close his eyes against the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Home, he thought stupidly.
"The Ancients had a very good security system," he managed when he dared to look again, forcing himself to keep his tone light.
The Colonel nodded, still not taking his hand away. Drinking in his sight.
"I lost you," he said quietly, in a voice that sounded like he was on the verge of tears, although his eyes were dry.
"I lost myself," Rodney admitted in the same tone. "I'm here now, though," he added.
"Yes. You are." Sheppard's - John's - gaze held a world of wonder. And a promise. Rodney decided to trust that gaze. Do unto others, and all that stuff. Give before you take.
After that, it was amazingly easy to shed most of his clothes and crawl under the covers, always aware of the warm body behind him. Rodney put his left hand over the arm that had sneaked possessively around his waist, and held on tightly, before slowly drifting off to sleep.
I'm here now, was his last thought.
And here he would stay.
~~~
End.