14 (12) Valentines 6: With Wings So Bright They Burn
Title: With Wings So Bright They Burn
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence. Spoilers for the X-Men movies (but you don't necessarily need to have seen them to read this) and season one of SGA.
Summary: John didn't want to be special. He just wanted to be left alone.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
The link I'm asking you to click today: 14 Valentines: Women's Health
Notes: I changed the order of episodes for this. Just pretend The Defiant One came before The Storm/The Eye, okay? :)
Beta-read by Denis (whose vast comic knowledge is invaluable at times), broet-chan, and history_gurl. Thank you!
ETA: Comment snippet: The First Time Rodney Died
Download With Wings So Bright They Burn as podfic
~~~
Cover by smuffster
With Wings So Bright They Burn
Every mutant was unique. It was in the very nature of their being, spontaneous mutations of genes that otherwise would have made a perfectly normal human. Oh, some had similar powers, like telekinesis, pyrokinesis, or telepathy; but in the end, every mutant was unique.
Well, almost every mutant.
~~~
When John first heard about the Atlantis mission, not long after a week of war between mutants and 'normal' humans, he was sceptical. Not only did all of the expedition members have mutated genes, no - they didn't even know if they could ever make it back to Earth. It didn't take his heightened senses to smell something fishy. And they wanted him, for yet another set of genes that made him 'special'.
John didn't want to be special. He just wanted to be left alone.
It was Dr. Weir who convinced him to go. A diplomat and powerful telepath, she was heading the Atlantis expedition - a civilian, not military, which was a plus in John's book.
"Think about it, Major," she said. "Another galaxy. Far away from the brass."
Far away from your father, she didn't say, but he could still hear it.
He went.
~~~
Sadly, another galaxy also meant an enemy who wasn't terribly impressed with homo sapiens superior and hunted them down for food. It meant shooting one's commanding officer and suddenly finding oneself responsible for the lives of almost two hundred people.
It meant Dr. Rodney McKay. A man who regarded each and every person around him with a deep distrust that didn't seem quite healthy.
They hadn't liked each other in Antarctica. They liked each other even less in Atlantis.
"So, Major, what's your, ah, superhero name? Wolverine Mark Two? Wolverine Junior? The Wolverine formerly known as not-Wolverine?"
Almost every mutant was unique.
"My name's Sheppard, McKay."
"What, I thought every 'special' human had an alias."
McKay even made the air quotes. John smiled calmly and tried not to grit his teeth. If the mess hall had been empty, he'd be tempted to demonstrate how his claws were actually a little longer than Wolverine's.
"Oh, really?" he asked instead, faking boredom. "What's yours?"
There was a pause when McKay blinked at him, then he raised his chin. It made him look even more annoying.
"Answer Man."
John started to laugh and choked on a fry. His eyes watered and he coughed, trying to get the half-chewed piece of potato out of his airway. By the time he'd caught his breath, McKay had stomped off.
~~~
It took John almost a week to figure out what McKay's problem was. He'd been clicking his way through the personnel files, bored after a long, slow day, when something about the physicist's file caught his eye. He skimmed it again, not sure what it was. The usual vita, check. A long list of references, check. Abilities… none.
He blinked, and looked again. Where every other expedition member had their mutant abilities listed, there was a short, black line in McKay's file.
McKay was human. Entirely human, and maybe John had sensed that somehow, maybe that was the reason for his spontaneous dislike, despite McKay being actually kind of cool underneath his asshole exterior.
It just didn't pay off to get too attached to humans. They were so easily broken.
He'd learned that the hard way.
That was one of the reasons John was anything but delighted when Elizabeth told him that McKay would be on his offworld team.
"He's just a human," he said, hating himself for sounding like his father. "He'll be a liability."
"Humans fought wars centuries before the first recorded mutant, John," Elizabeth told him, clearly amused.
"Not this one. He's a scientist, he'll slow us down," John tried to explain, but she wouldn't have it.
"He is the brightest mind of his generation, and he has worked with mutants for most of his life. If you've read his file, you've seen that there's a letter of recommendation from Professor Xavier himself. He'll adapt."
"Elizabeth-"
"I'm not discussing this, John. Him, or no team."
And that was that.
~~~
To be honest, having McKay on his team wasn't half as bad as John had thought. The man was smart, complaining a lot but ultimately acting professional, and he got along suprisingly well with Lt. Ford and Teyla of Athos. Ford, who could mentally make things explode in a radius of almost half a mile, hadn't tried to blow McKay up yet. Teyla, leader of her people, had agreed to join them in their fight against the Wraith, and her ability to summon her fighting sticks out of thin air made her a definite asset. Possibly it also was what made her so patient with McKay's moods - she could always whack him with a stick if he got on her nerves.
They weren't the greatest people ever to walk through the Stargate, but they were John's team, and he was proud of them.
After McKay had walked into a life-draining energy cloud with only a flimsy, ten thousand year-old force field to protect him and no guarantee it would hold, John himself became more inclined to cut the man a little slack, too. Especially because, for a few seconds, it had seemed like McKay was dead, and John had surprised himself by regretting that. A little.
"You know, if you wanted more attention, you could have always run around naked," he told McKay when he visited him in the infirmary.
"Yes, well, I thought I'd try a more dramatic approach. You know, heroics, make the ladies swoon and all that."
McKay made a complicated gesture with his fingers, and John shook his head.
"Well, try not to exhaust yourself. We have a mission tomorrow."
He ignored the way McKay was gaping at him, and turned to walk away. A few steps from the door, McKay called after him, "Oh, of course, you're very welcome," pout evident in his voice. John grinned, and flicked the chocolate he'd brought over his shoulder without looking back.
He knew McKay would catch it.
~~~
Working together as a team became easier the more time went by. They learned to make fun of each other's quirks and routines, like Rodney's deep-seated conviction that everyone and everything was out to kill him, Ford's tendency to blow things up when he was startled, and Teyla's habit of summoning one of her sticks and polish it when she was bored.
Nobody ever commented on John's reluctance to use his powers for anything but emergencies. Well, except for his healing powers - he couldn't exactly switch those off.
Then Ford wanted to know what it was like, being normal.
"How should I know?" Rodney asked irritably. "I'm a genius."
They were sitting in a small, cold hut, waiting to be called to meet the village council. They'd been waiting for almost an hour, and the Lieutenant was getting bored.
"What Aiden means to ask, Rodney," Teyla tried to explain, "is how it feels to be without the gift of the Ancestors."
"I know what he meant," Rodney bristled, and if they kept this up, John would have to interfere. He was curious, though, so he waited for the answer he knew would come eventually.
He'd almost forgotten what it was like not to have a second option.
"I'm not sure you people understand the concept, so let me try to explain it in easy words. Being normal feels normal. It's not like, like reaching out for something that isn't there, because it's never been there in the first place. No strange absence, no feelings of having a disability, no identity crisis. The question itself is inane. It's like me asking what it's like not to be brilliant."
"Don't worry," John said, and patted Rodney's arm, "we're not holding it against you."
Ford grinned, Rodney spluttered, and Teyla hid her smile pretending to look for something in her backpack. In the middle of all that, a mildly irritated servant asked them to step in front of the council.
They didn't trade much that day, but returned to Atlantis still joking and ribbing each other.
~~~
Things went to hell barely a week later. He should have taken Ford and Teyla along for the ride, John thought as the ten thousand year-old Wraith stood up after stepping on a grenade. Ford could have tried to blow him up, or maybe Teyla would've come up with a plan. Either way, John wouldn't have had to face the Wraith alone, while Rodney protected a dying man with a useless gun.
In John's defence, he hadn't known the gun would be useless when he'd left Rodney with it.
The Wraith was on his feet again, and stomping purposely towards the small dune John was hiding behind.
Damn. He'd have to take him down the hard way.
John was good with his claws. He was fast, and he knew how to concentrate on vital points. But the claws weren't of much use against an enemy who could heal himself as soon as John opened another wound. Well, the same applied to John himself, but he knew when he was losing. Fighting the Wraith straight on had been a last ditch attempt, and it was failing.
The breath was driven from John's lungs as the Wraith slammed him to the ground and pinned him with his body, holding both of John's wrists with one hand while ripping his t-shirt with the other.
And then pain.
John could feel his heart struggle to carry on as the Wraith drained him, could feel his skin trying to close around the long nails and feeding orifice embedded in his chest. He tried to breathe, to fight, but his strength faded along with the slowing rush of blood in his ears.
He could feel his legs twitch, and wondered faintly how many years the Wraith would gain from him before the healing wouldn't be able to keep up anymore. A hundred? Two hundred? More?
The question disappeared into nothingness as his eyes slid shut and his body sagged, fell limp. Then there was a moment when the pain became even worse, before the hand on his chest was pulled away.
"Major!"
McKay. John took a deep breath, then another, and listened to his sluggish heartbeat growing stronger. He could feel wrinkled skin smooth out, slowly. It was the best feeling ever.
Rodney was still worried, though. John could smell it. He opened his eyes, blinking into the glaring light of the desert sun. The Wraith was lying next to him, his face wearing the eternally surprised expression of the newly dead.
"Nice job," he said, accepting Rodney's help to get back on his feet, although he didn't really need it anymore.
"Yes, it's amazing how fast they fall when you perforate their neck and sever their spinal cord," Rodney said conversationally, but his voice sounded wrong. Dull.
John hated asking questions when he knew the answer. "Gaul?"
"Turned himself into glass." Rodney shrugged, and that, too, seemed wrong.
"Come on." John turned him around and gave his arm a little squeeze. "Let's get back to the jumper."
He'd figure this out, somehow. He just needed a little time.
~~~
John stuck a little closer to Rodney after that. He wasn't sure why, just that he needed to make sure Rodney was okay. He told himself he was simply looking out for a team member who was surrounded by his worst nightmare - mutants.
As it turned out, Rodney was more than used to having powerful beings around him, though.
"Jean Grey was your sister?"
John stared, open-mouthed, as Rodney just shrugged and continued to stuff himself with meatloaf and gravy.
"Half sister. Same mother, different fathers. We were never very close, though. It's a bit complicated; see, my mother was together with Jean's father, but had an affair with mine. She became pregnant and married Dad, secretly keeping her old lover. He got her pregnant, and four years after Jean was born, my parents divorced. She married Jean's father, and I didn't see her very often after that."
"Jean Grey was your sister?"
"Half sister. Are you listening?"
"I'm just trying to get my head around the fact that the single-most powerful mutant who ever existed was your sister."
Rodney looked at him, a little bemused.
"Does it matter?" he asked. "I mean, she's dead, and the only special ability I have is cowering people with my IQ."
He sounded strangely shy, and John made a show of shrugging very casually.
"I was just wondering. I heard she was hot, and you are…" he made a vague little wave with his left.
"Oh, ha ha, Major, very funny. Not all of us can be ridiculously attractive, you know."
Rodney scowled, but John just grinned. And stomped down on the thought that Rodney looked perfectly attractive to him.
~~~
It was after the wake for another four soldiers who'd died far too young that Rodney talked about his brief contacts with Professor Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. The two of them were sitting on a balcony, backs to the railing, sharing a bottle of the worst vodka John had ever tried to get drunk on.
"They had this secret underground base, all very cliché. I set up most of the systems, maintained them, whenever I was in the area."
Of course. Because there wasn't much Dr. Rodney McKay couldn't do, was there?
"I got to meet Jean, that was nice." Rodney refilled his glass, took another sip, and snorted. "Her boyfriend was a wimp, though. She should have gone with Wolverine-"
He broke off, and John hated that. Hated that there were things they just didn't talk about.
"My father sold me to them," he said suddenly, not looking at Rodney. Not wanting to see the shock and pity he knew were on his friend's face. "They wanted to create the perfect soldier. My father thought I might make a good subject. Get rid of a few discipline issues."
"But it didn't work," Rodney said softly.
"No. Brainwashing didn't hold." He remembered the disgusted surprise on his father's face when he turned out to be a failure in that, too. "Disappointments all around."
"You're not a disappointment!" Rodney's voice was fierce, and John blinked at him in shock. The physicist glared like John had just said something monumentally stupid. Maybe he had. "They were criminals, conducting illegal experiments on unwilling subjects, and surviving that with your mind intact is a miracle, not a failure."
"Watch out, Rodney. People might think you care."
John hid his smile in his glass, watching Rodney blush.
"What? Uh. No, I mean, well…"
John leaned back, and let Rodney's stuttered words wash over him, watching the stars.
~~~
The thing about friends was that the closer they got, the more afraid you were of losing them.
It wasn't bad enough that there was a Genii madman trying to take over his city. No, said Genii madman held the only person hostage who had no particular way of defending himself.
"You should have cooperated, Major Sheppard. After receiving Dr. Beckett's gene therapy to share your people's powers, we would have left you alone," Kolya's voice sounded tinny through John's earpiece, Rodney's screams a sickening background noise. "Now you'll have to say goodbye to Dr. McKay."
John didn't think he'd ever run like this before. His claws shot out without conscious decision as Rodney fell silent, and he tore through the Ancient gateroom door like it were paper. He froze at the sight that greeted him: Rodney, eyes closed, held up only by Kolya's grasp, his blue shirt torn and bloody.
"McKay!" John yelled, "Rodney!"
Kolya turned, let Rodney's body fall to the ground, where it lay unmoving.
And John lost it.
The Genii were shooting at him, but he barely noticed the bullets that hit him, his focus narrowed down to one man as his claws ripped through bone and muscle left and right. He had the grim satisfaction to see Kolya's expression change from smug to horrified, and then-
Then his knuckles were pressing against Kolya's belly, claws sticking out of the man's back, and he'd never felt so good watching the light fade from someone's eyes.
He let Ford take care of the remaining Genii, not caring if they were shot, taken prisoner, or if their heads exploded. Crouching down next to Rodney, he was surprised to find twin slivers of blue stare up at him.
"Control room." Blood bubbled on Rodney's lips as he spoke, and John shook his head.
"We'll wait for Beckett, he'll heal you."
Rodney grimaced. "No time."
He was right. The storm was directly above them, and while John didn't particularly care what happened to him right now, he had promised to protect his people. That included Elizabeth, who was staring at them with wide, wild eyes, and Ford, who had finished his business and was standing at a light parade rest, his gaze defiant.
There would be no prisoners.
John picked up Rodney's body, listening to halted explanations on how to activate the shield as he carried him up to the control room. Carefully, he lowered his friend to the floor next to the DHD, trying to make him comfortable. It earned him a pained smirk and a whispered reminder.
"Shield."
"Rodney-" John clutched his friend's clammy hand and held on. Don't die, he wanted to say, and even more stupidly, don't leave me alone.
Rodney shook his head and gave him a feeble push.
"Go. You can… tell me later."
His voice trailed off, and John knew there would be no later. He gave Rodney's hand a last squeeze, not even sure what it was he was regretting so much, and stood up, walking over to the main control station without looking back.
Teyla and Beckett came running into the control room, gasping when they spotted Rodney.
"Dear lord, what happened?" John could hear the doctor drop to his knees beside Rodney, the quiet curses, the defeated sigh.
He didn't dare look.
"Activating the shield," he said quietly, and did just that.
~~~
Beckett wanted to get a gurney, but one look from John and he shut up.
It probably would have been easier to pick Rodney up in a fireman's carry, except John wanted his friend to keep some dignity when they… when they walked through Atlantis' corridors one last time. So he crouched down and slipped one arm under Rodney's knees, cradling his torso to his chest with the other, head tucked under John's chin. He swallowed at the way Rodney's skin already felt colder than it should have.
If he had been alive.
The distance between the control room and the infirmary had never seemed greater, and yet John could feel his steps slow down the closer he got to the part of the med bay that had been turned into a makeshift morgue. Rodney was a heavy weight in his arms, and he didn't want to let that go.
He never wanted to let him go.
Behind him, Beckett cleared his throat, softly, and John made himself walk into the cold room and lay Rodney on one of the tables, his hand lingering on the bare skin of Rodney's neck.
Briefly, he closed his eyes, biting his tongue against all the things he'd never wanted to say, and then he straightened. Beckett's hand on his arm stopped him from turning around to leave, though.
"Wait."
"For what?" he asked, not really interested.
"Just… wait a minute. There's always a chance that he-"
Rodney's fingers twitched.
"Ah. Yes," Beckett said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself.
"What the-"
Rodney's eyes flickered open, and John's voice deserted him as their blue gaze slowly focussed on him.
"The morgue?" Rodney rasped, sounding vaguely insulted.
"You said yourself there was no way of knowing if it works every time," Beckett defended himself, then ruined his offended expression with a happy grin.
John watched with growing confusion as Rodney rolled his eyes and carefully sat up, wincing as the movement made his spine crack.
"You were dead," he said stupidly.
"I always thought it was unfair that Jean got to be Phoenix. It should have been my name." Rodney smirked proudly, and John wanted to wipe that expression off his face, not quite ready to deal with Rodney's smugness when moments before, he'd seen his own life stretch bleak and empty ahead of him.
So he kissed him. And fuck Beckett's astonished little gasp, he wouldn't stop until the world felt like it had stopped tilting.
Rodney's arms flailed a little before they settled on his waist, and then Rodney was kissing him back with enthusiasm, making happy little noises that made something inside John break.
"Never letting you out of my sight again," he swore between kisses, "never letting you do anything alone again, ever."
"Possessive much?" Rodney wanted to know, but he didn't sound like he minded.
Not that John cared if he did.
~~~
There might have been a little freak-out, later.
"I'm not gay. I've never been gay."
"You had your cock up my ass. That seems pretty gay to me."
"You sure this isn't another hidden superpower?" John asked suspiciously. "Turning unsuspecting men into your sex slaves?"
"Ah, yes, there you've got me. Congratulations, you've uncovered my secret identity as Rainbow Man. Please, don't tell anyone," Rodney mocked him, and John pouted.
He tried to keep pouting while Rodney kissed him breathless, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause.
He had better things to do with his time, anyway.
~~~
End.
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence. Spoilers for the X-Men movies (but you don't necessarily need to have seen them to read this) and season one of SGA.
Summary: John didn't want to be special. He just wanted to be left alone.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
The link I'm asking you to click today: 14 Valentines: Women's Health
Notes: I changed the order of episodes for this. Just pretend The Defiant One came before The Storm/The Eye, okay? :)
Beta-read by Denis (whose vast comic knowledge is invaluable at times), broet-chan, and history_gurl. Thank you!
ETA: Comment snippet: The First Time Rodney Died
Download With Wings So Bright They Burn as podfic
~~~
Cover by smuffster
With Wings So Bright They Burn
Every mutant was unique. It was in the very nature of their being, spontaneous mutations of genes that otherwise would have made a perfectly normal human. Oh, some had similar powers, like telekinesis, pyrokinesis, or telepathy; but in the end, every mutant was unique.
Well, almost every mutant.
~~~
When John first heard about the Atlantis mission, not long after a week of war between mutants and 'normal' humans, he was sceptical. Not only did all of the expedition members have mutated genes, no - they didn't even know if they could ever make it back to Earth. It didn't take his heightened senses to smell something fishy. And they wanted him, for yet another set of genes that made him 'special'.
John didn't want to be special. He just wanted to be left alone.
It was Dr. Weir who convinced him to go. A diplomat and powerful telepath, she was heading the Atlantis expedition - a civilian, not military, which was a plus in John's book.
"Think about it, Major," she said. "Another galaxy. Far away from the brass."
Far away from your father, she didn't say, but he could still hear it.
He went.
~~~
Sadly, another galaxy also meant an enemy who wasn't terribly impressed with homo sapiens superior and hunted them down for food. It meant shooting one's commanding officer and suddenly finding oneself responsible for the lives of almost two hundred people.
It meant Dr. Rodney McKay. A man who regarded each and every person around him with a deep distrust that didn't seem quite healthy.
They hadn't liked each other in Antarctica. They liked each other even less in Atlantis.
"So, Major, what's your, ah, superhero name? Wolverine Mark Two? Wolverine Junior? The Wolverine formerly known as not-Wolverine?"
Almost every mutant was unique.
"My name's Sheppard, McKay."
"What, I thought every 'special' human had an alias."
McKay even made the air quotes. John smiled calmly and tried not to grit his teeth. If the mess hall had been empty, he'd be tempted to demonstrate how his claws were actually a little longer than Wolverine's.
"Oh, really?" he asked instead, faking boredom. "What's yours?"
There was a pause when McKay blinked at him, then he raised his chin. It made him look even more annoying.
"Answer Man."
John started to laugh and choked on a fry. His eyes watered and he coughed, trying to get the half-chewed piece of potato out of his airway. By the time he'd caught his breath, McKay had stomped off.
~~~
It took John almost a week to figure out what McKay's problem was. He'd been clicking his way through the personnel files, bored after a long, slow day, when something about the physicist's file caught his eye. He skimmed it again, not sure what it was. The usual vita, check. A long list of references, check. Abilities… none.
He blinked, and looked again. Where every other expedition member had their mutant abilities listed, there was a short, black line in McKay's file.
McKay was human. Entirely human, and maybe John had sensed that somehow, maybe that was the reason for his spontaneous dislike, despite McKay being actually kind of cool underneath his asshole exterior.
It just didn't pay off to get too attached to humans. They were so easily broken.
He'd learned that the hard way.
That was one of the reasons John was anything but delighted when Elizabeth told him that McKay would be on his offworld team.
"He's just a human," he said, hating himself for sounding like his father. "He'll be a liability."
"Humans fought wars centuries before the first recorded mutant, John," Elizabeth told him, clearly amused.
"Not this one. He's a scientist, he'll slow us down," John tried to explain, but she wouldn't have it.
"He is the brightest mind of his generation, and he has worked with mutants for most of his life. If you've read his file, you've seen that there's a letter of recommendation from Professor Xavier himself. He'll adapt."
"Elizabeth-"
"I'm not discussing this, John. Him, or no team."
And that was that.
~~~
To be honest, having McKay on his team wasn't half as bad as John had thought. The man was smart, complaining a lot but ultimately acting professional, and he got along suprisingly well with Lt. Ford and Teyla of Athos. Ford, who could mentally make things explode in a radius of almost half a mile, hadn't tried to blow McKay up yet. Teyla, leader of her people, had agreed to join them in their fight against the Wraith, and her ability to summon her fighting sticks out of thin air made her a definite asset. Possibly it also was what made her so patient with McKay's moods - she could always whack him with a stick if he got on her nerves.
They weren't the greatest people ever to walk through the Stargate, but they were John's team, and he was proud of them.
After McKay had walked into a life-draining energy cloud with only a flimsy, ten thousand year-old force field to protect him and no guarantee it would hold, John himself became more inclined to cut the man a little slack, too. Especially because, for a few seconds, it had seemed like McKay was dead, and John had surprised himself by regretting that. A little.
"You know, if you wanted more attention, you could have always run around naked," he told McKay when he visited him in the infirmary.
"Yes, well, I thought I'd try a more dramatic approach. You know, heroics, make the ladies swoon and all that."
McKay made a complicated gesture with his fingers, and John shook his head.
"Well, try not to exhaust yourself. We have a mission tomorrow."
He ignored the way McKay was gaping at him, and turned to walk away. A few steps from the door, McKay called after him, "Oh, of course, you're very welcome," pout evident in his voice. John grinned, and flicked the chocolate he'd brought over his shoulder without looking back.
He knew McKay would catch it.
~~~
Working together as a team became easier the more time went by. They learned to make fun of each other's quirks and routines, like Rodney's deep-seated conviction that everyone and everything was out to kill him, Ford's tendency to blow things up when he was startled, and Teyla's habit of summoning one of her sticks and polish it when she was bored.
Nobody ever commented on John's reluctance to use his powers for anything but emergencies. Well, except for his healing powers - he couldn't exactly switch those off.
Then Ford wanted to know what it was like, being normal.
"How should I know?" Rodney asked irritably. "I'm a genius."
They were sitting in a small, cold hut, waiting to be called to meet the village council. They'd been waiting for almost an hour, and the Lieutenant was getting bored.
"What Aiden means to ask, Rodney," Teyla tried to explain, "is how it feels to be without the gift of the Ancestors."
"I know what he meant," Rodney bristled, and if they kept this up, John would have to interfere. He was curious, though, so he waited for the answer he knew would come eventually.
He'd almost forgotten what it was like not to have a second option.
"I'm not sure you people understand the concept, so let me try to explain it in easy words. Being normal feels normal. It's not like, like reaching out for something that isn't there, because it's never been there in the first place. No strange absence, no feelings of having a disability, no identity crisis. The question itself is inane. It's like me asking what it's like not to be brilliant."
"Don't worry," John said, and patted Rodney's arm, "we're not holding it against you."
Ford grinned, Rodney spluttered, and Teyla hid her smile pretending to look for something in her backpack. In the middle of all that, a mildly irritated servant asked them to step in front of the council.
They didn't trade much that day, but returned to Atlantis still joking and ribbing each other.
~~~
Things went to hell barely a week later. He should have taken Ford and Teyla along for the ride, John thought as the ten thousand year-old Wraith stood up after stepping on a grenade. Ford could have tried to blow him up, or maybe Teyla would've come up with a plan. Either way, John wouldn't have had to face the Wraith alone, while Rodney protected a dying man with a useless gun.
In John's defence, he hadn't known the gun would be useless when he'd left Rodney with it.
The Wraith was on his feet again, and stomping purposely towards the small dune John was hiding behind.
Damn. He'd have to take him down the hard way.
John was good with his claws. He was fast, and he knew how to concentrate on vital points. But the claws weren't of much use against an enemy who could heal himself as soon as John opened another wound. Well, the same applied to John himself, but he knew when he was losing. Fighting the Wraith straight on had been a last ditch attempt, and it was failing.
The breath was driven from John's lungs as the Wraith slammed him to the ground and pinned him with his body, holding both of John's wrists with one hand while ripping his t-shirt with the other.
And then pain.
John could feel his heart struggle to carry on as the Wraith drained him, could feel his skin trying to close around the long nails and feeding orifice embedded in his chest. He tried to breathe, to fight, but his strength faded along with the slowing rush of blood in his ears.
He could feel his legs twitch, and wondered faintly how many years the Wraith would gain from him before the healing wouldn't be able to keep up anymore. A hundred? Two hundred? More?
The question disappeared into nothingness as his eyes slid shut and his body sagged, fell limp. Then there was a moment when the pain became even worse, before the hand on his chest was pulled away.
"Major!"
McKay. John took a deep breath, then another, and listened to his sluggish heartbeat growing stronger. He could feel wrinkled skin smooth out, slowly. It was the best feeling ever.
Rodney was still worried, though. John could smell it. He opened his eyes, blinking into the glaring light of the desert sun. The Wraith was lying next to him, his face wearing the eternally surprised expression of the newly dead.
"Nice job," he said, accepting Rodney's help to get back on his feet, although he didn't really need it anymore.
"Yes, it's amazing how fast they fall when you perforate their neck and sever their spinal cord," Rodney said conversationally, but his voice sounded wrong. Dull.
John hated asking questions when he knew the answer. "Gaul?"
"Turned himself into glass." Rodney shrugged, and that, too, seemed wrong.
"Come on." John turned him around and gave his arm a little squeeze. "Let's get back to the jumper."
He'd figure this out, somehow. He just needed a little time.
~~~
John stuck a little closer to Rodney after that. He wasn't sure why, just that he needed to make sure Rodney was okay. He told himself he was simply looking out for a team member who was surrounded by his worst nightmare - mutants.
As it turned out, Rodney was more than used to having powerful beings around him, though.
"Jean Grey was your sister?"
John stared, open-mouthed, as Rodney just shrugged and continued to stuff himself with meatloaf and gravy.
"Half sister. Same mother, different fathers. We were never very close, though. It's a bit complicated; see, my mother was together with Jean's father, but had an affair with mine. She became pregnant and married Dad, secretly keeping her old lover. He got her pregnant, and four years after Jean was born, my parents divorced. She married Jean's father, and I didn't see her very often after that."
"Jean Grey was your sister?"
"Half sister. Are you listening?"
"I'm just trying to get my head around the fact that the single-most powerful mutant who ever existed was your sister."
Rodney looked at him, a little bemused.
"Does it matter?" he asked. "I mean, she's dead, and the only special ability I have is cowering people with my IQ."
He sounded strangely shy, and John made a show of shrugging very casually.
"I was just wondering. I heard she was hot, and you are…" he made a vague little wave with his left.
"Oh, ha ha, Major, very funny. Not all of us can be ridiculously attractive, you know."
Rodney scowled, but John just grinned. And stomped down on the thought that Rodney looked perfectly attractive to him.
~~~
It was after the wake for another four soldiers who'd died far too young that Rodney talked about his brief contacts with Professor Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. The two of them were sitting on a balcony, backs to the railing, sharing a bottle of the worst vodka John had ever tried to get drunk on.
"They had this secret underground base, all very cliché. I set up most of the systems, maintained them, whenever I was in the area."
Of course. Because there wasn't much Dr. Rodney McKay couldn't do, was there?
"I got to meet Jean, that was nice." Rodney refilled his glass, took another sip, and snorted. "Her boyfriend was a wimp, though. She should have gone with Wolverine-"
He broke off, and John hated that. Hated that there were things they just didn't talk about.
"My father sold me to them," he said suddenly, not looking at Rodney. Not wanting to see the shock and pity he knew were on his friend's face. "They wanted to create the perfect soldier. My father thought I might make a good subject. Get rid of a few discipline issues."
"But it didn't work," Rodney said softly.
"No. Brainwashing didn't hold." He remembered the disgusted surprise on his father's face when he turned out to be a failure in that, too. "Disappointments all around."
"You're not a disappointment!" Rodney's voice was fierce, and John blinked at him in shock. The physicist glared like John had just said something monumentally stupid. Maybe he had. "They were criminals, conducting illegal experiments on unwilling subjects, and surviving that with your mind intact is a miracle, not a failure."
"Watch out, Rodney. People might think you care."
John hid his smile in his glass, watching Rodney blush.
"What? Uh. No, I mean, well…"
John leaned back, and let Rodney's stuttered words wash over him, watching the stars.
~~~
The thing about friends was that the closer they got, the more afraid you were of losing them.
It wasn't bad enough that there was a Genii madman trying to take over his city. No, said Genii madman held the only person hostage who had no particular way of defending himself.
"You should have cooperated, Major Sheppard. After receiving Dr. Beckett's gene therapy to share your people's powers, we would have left you alone," Kolya's voice sounded tinny through John's earpiece, Rodney's screams a sickening background noise. "Now you'll have to say goodbye to Dr. McKay."
John didn't think he'd ever run like this before. His claws shot out without conscious decision as Rodney fell silent, and he tore through the Ancient gateroom door like it were paper. He froze at the sight that greeted him: Rodney, eyes closed, held up only by Kolya's grasp, his blue shirt torn and bloody.
"McKay!" John yelled, "Rodney!"
Kolya turned, let Rodney's body fall to the ground, where it lay unmoving.
And John lost it.
The Genii were shooting at him, but he barely noticed the bullets that hit him, his focus narrowed down to one man as his claws ripped through bone and muscle left and right. He had the grim satisfaction to see Kolya's expression change from smug to horrified, and then-
Then his knuckles were pressing against Kolya's belly, claws sticking out of the man's back, and he'd never felt so good watching the light fade from someone's eyes.
He let Ford take care of the remaining Genii, not caring if they were shot, taken prisoner, or if their heads exploded. Crouching down next to Rodney, he was surprised to find twin slivers of blue stare up at him.
"Control room." Blood bubbled on Rodney's lips as he spoke, and John shook his head.
"We'll wait for Beckett, he'll heal you."
Rodney grimaced. "No time."
He was right. The storm was directly above them, and while John didn't particularly care what happened to him right now, he had promised to protect his people. That included Elizabeth, who was staring at them with wide, wild eyes, and Ford, who had finished his business and was standing at a light parade rest, his gaze defiant.
There would be no prisoners.
John picked up Rodney's body, listening to halted explanations on how to activate the shield as he carried him up to the control room. Carefully, he lowered his friend to the floor next to the DHD, trying to make him comfortable. It earned him a pained smirk and a whispered reminder.
"Shield."
"Rodney-" John clutched his friend's clammy hand and held on. Don't die, he wanted to say, and even more stupidly, don't leave me alone.
Rodney shook his head and gave him a feeble push.
"Go. You can… tell me later."
His voice trailed off, and John knew there would be no later. He gave Rodney's hand a last squeeze, not even sure what it was he was regretting so much, and stood up, walking over to the main control station without looking back.
Teyla and Beckett came running into the control room, gasping when they spotted Rodney.
"Dear lord, what happened?" John could hear the doctor drop to his knees beside Rodney, the quiet curses, the defeated sigh.
He didn't dare look.
"Activating the shield," he said quietly, and did just that.
~~~
Beckett wanted to get a gurney, but one look from John and he shut up.
It probably would have been easier to pick Rodney up in a fireman's carry, except John wanted his friend to keep some dignity when they… when they walked through Atlantis' corridors one last time. So he crouched down and slipped one arm under Rodney's knees, cradling his torso to his chest with the other, head tucked under John's chin. He swallowed at the way Rodney's skin already felt colder than it should have.
If he had been alive.
The distance between the control room and the infirmary had never seemed greater, and yet John could feel his steps slow down the closer he got to the part of the med bay that had been turned into a makeshift morgue. Rodney was a heavy weight in his arms, and he didn't want to let that go.
He never wanted to let him go.
Behind him, Beckett cleared his throat, softly, and John made himself walk into the cold room and lay Rodney on one of the tables, his hand lingering on the bare skin of Rodney's neck.
Briefly, he closed his eyes, biting his tongue against all the things he'd never wanted to say, and then he straightened. Beckett's hand on his arm stopped him from turning around to leave, though.
"Wait."
"For what?" he asked, not really interested.
"Just… wait a minute. There's always a chance that he-"
Rodney's fingers twitched.
"Ah. Yes," Beckett said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself.
"What the-"
Rodney's eyes flickered open, and John's voice deserted him as their blue gaze slowly focussed on him.
"The morgue?" Rodney rasped, sounding vaguely insulted.
"You said yourself there was no way of knowing if it works every time," Beckett defended himself, then ruined his offended expression with a happy grin.
John watched with growing confusion as Rodney rolled his eyes and carefully sat up, wincing as the movement made his spine crack.
"You were dead," he said stupidly.
"I always thought it was unfair that Jean got to be Phoenix. It should have been my name." Rodney smirked proudly, and John wanted to wipe that expression off his face, not quite ready to deal with Rodney's smugness when moments before, he'd seen his own life stretch bleak and empty ahead of him.
So he kissed him. And fuck Beckett's astonished little gasp, he wouldn't stop until the world felt like it had stopped tilting.
Rodney's arms flailed a little before they settled on his waist, and then Rodney was kissing him back with enthusiasm, making happy little noises that made something inside John break.
"Never letting you out of my sight again," he swore between kisses, "never letting you do anything alone again, ever."
"Possessive much?" Rodney wanted to know, but he didn't sound like he minded.
Not that John cared if he did.
~~~
There might have been a little freak-out, later.
"I'm not gay. I've never been gay."
"You had your cock up my ass. That seems pretty gay to me."
"You sure this isn't another hidden superpower?" John asked suspiciously. "Turning unsuspecting men into your sex slaves?"
"Ah, yes, there you've got me. Congratulations, you've uncovered my secret identity as Rainbow Man. Please, don't tell anyone," Rodney mocked him, and John pouted.
He tried to keep pouting while Rodney kissed him breathless, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause.
He had better things to do with his time, anyway.
~~~
End.