Fic: Absolute Corruption 1/2
Title: Absolute Corruption
Author: Cypher
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Main Character(s): Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill
Warnings: Slash, language, minor character death, unbetaed, spoilers for Absolute Power and beyond (SG1 and Atlantis)
Rating: Mature (R)
Summary: “He was well trained, took almost twenty hours to tear all the intel from his mind. He’s not much use to me anymore. So, I give him to you. A gift, a pet. Treat him as you want.”
Word Count: 19,200
Author's Notes: A fic that’s been on hold for a while, sethoz requested something McShep (with Lorne), and low and behold, this is the result! It’s betaed, but neither she nor I use present tense very often, so apologies for any glaring errors on that count. Otherwise, Happy Birthday sethoz, and enjoy!
Absolute Corruption
(Part 1)
The day Samantha Carter was put in jail, Rodney McKay put in twenty calls using every personal favor he had to either get her released, or at least get in to see her and discover for himself if she truly was insane.
The day Moscow vanished from the face of the Earth, Rodney found himself the voice of reason in a sea of chaos. He directed the scientists to their labs, deactivated all major power sources throughout the base, then found a tiny supply closet where he proceeded to ignore his claustrophobia and chant to himself ‘this can’t be real, this can’t be real, oh my god, they destroyed Moscow!’ before throwing up four times.
The day after, he was transported to one Daniel Jackson, and offered a job.
Head of Extraterrestrial Research. It meant he had to remain in the underground bunker for a few months, before the compound was deemed safe, but he didn’t mind. Actually, he didn’t have a choice. Daniel had made it clear he’d put up with Rodney’s attitude, put up with his insults and snide comments and curses, as long as he showed results. And if he didn’t, he’d be tortured. It wasn’t overtly stated, but the threat was implied.
Five years later, he has his own compound, adjacent to Daniel’s, and he runs Area 52. He’s considered one of the most powerful men in the world. “Rodney McKay,” some whisper, “Daniel Jackson’s right-hand man.” Others would shy away from him, saying “that’s McKay, the Devil’s hand.” There are even some who question whether Daniel really is the man in charge, or if McKay is actually pulling the strings.
Rodney knows all of this, because Daniel has spies and cameras everywhere, and shows it to Rodney over breakfast one morning. It’s amusing, with some laughter and jokes, but while Daniel is smiling, his eyes are steel, and Rodney knew that the man who had said, “Naw, it’s really MCKAY who runs things” had not survived the day.
Breakfast at the Jackson’s is a weekly event, and sometimes Daniel’s son is there--a wasp in Rodney’s side because he always bugs Rodney to play a game or check out some asinine drawing. The kid was Daniel’s only vice, though, and after one round with the ribbon device, Rodney knew better than to insult, hurt, or even glare at the little brat. Rodney suspects Daniel knows it’s a front, but tolerates it because he’s so good at what he does.
Technological advancement is at an all-time high, so much so that Rodney had told Daniel last week that starships could be built soon; ones that would rival the strength and speed of the Goa'uld, probably even surpass them. He wasn’t given the go-ahead, of course. Daniel always thought long and hard before granting a project to continue. But Earth was safe, the nations had settled (peace was enforced through sheer obliteration--much of the Middle East was now missing), and the ships would allow for colony worlds, as well as a chance to engage and take down the Goa'uld.
It’s a triumphant moment for humanity, and Rodney plays up its importance, as well as his excitement (which he didn’t have to play up too much). It isn’t real, though. For all of Rodney’s hard work and dedication, he’s seen what Daniel’s power play has cost. He knows Sam didn’t committed suicide, not with how professionally her throat had been cut. He’d lost a good scientific rival and potential second-in-command when Moscow was wiped out, and the loss of Zelenka’s genius has dimmed the overall scientific community in Rodney’s opinion.
So for all the whispers, the looks, the assumption that Rodney McKay is Daniel Jackson’s best commander, a blind follower, he actually isn’t. He has ways of preventing Daniel from seeing him--he helped develop Daniel’s latest surveillance equipment, after all--he knows how everything works, from the defense satellites to the ring transporters now located around the globe.
And he knows that all he needs is a starship, and he can stop this, stop Daniel. He can take down the defense system--even destroy it if necessary--without using the access codes Daniel has provided him with (he didn’t trust them anyways, what lunatic would hand out access codes to the world?). He knows how to disable the brainwashed soldiers thanks to an intentional design flaw in their cranial microchips. He just had to be sure to be off the planet on a ship he could control--and override, if Daniel somehow outsmarted him--in order to do it.
The civilian population would be able to handle the security forces, and as for Daniel…well, there were rogue cells--terrorists, according to the tightly controlled media--that were fighting against the Goa'uld-like oppression. The Resistance still had arms, still evaded capture, and once security and weapons were down, they’d take on the heavily-armed compound (Rodney already had a worm designed to take out its security protocols within hours). It’d be a bloody battle, and he doubted he’d survive, but he couldn’t sit by and do nothing.
At times, he wondered if this was how Tok’ra operatives felt when finally plotting the demise of the Goa'uld they’d served so faithfully. Just a few more years, he just has to make it long enough to get the first starship operational and convince Daniel he has to be on it for the dry run. Then it can finally be finished, and Sam’s death, along with the thousands of others, will finally be avenged.
That was the future, however, and today is once again Breakfast at the Jackson’s. From the signs of it, the brat wouldn’t be in today (Rodney now vaguely recalled a brief paragraph from Daniel about a trip to Greece for a school project). Since there are no servants around to guide him, he simply lets himself into the dining room and takes his usual seat. It isn’t the first time Daniel has been late, and it allows Rodney to compose his arguments (he’s expecting the project to be approved today, but just in case he has a fourteen-week plan that will eventually force Daniel to capitulate without him seeming like a nagging scientist).
After thirty minutes, he’s detailed his fourteen-week plan so finely he has it down to eleven weeks, and his stomach is rumbling. After an hour, he stands up and uses the button by the doorway summoning the help. When no one comes, Rodney wondered if there’s been an attack and they’re all hiding in the bunker (in which case, why hadn’t they thought to warn him?). After a minute of indecision, Rodney heads for the kitchen, to sneak out the back (in case it IS an attack) and beg forgiveness if it’s something else.
He lets out an unmanly yelp when Daniel materializes in front of the doorway. Not literally materializes (they’re still working on understanding the stolen Asgard transporter), but enough so that Rodney is caught off-guard. Daniel is as well, apparently, for confusion blooms on his face, before it settles into the usual easy smile. The eyes even sparkle a bit, and McKay takes an involuntary step back. “Rodney, I’m sorry. I forgot about our breakfast.”
“Nice to know I’m memorable.” Corners of the smile twitch. “So what was it this time? Uprising in Kuwait? International conference?”
“Actually, just gathering some information.” Daniel looks Rodney up and down appraisingly, and Rodney swallows. “I think you can help.” Nodding his head once, Daniel snaps his fingers twice--Rodney flinches back at seeing the ribbon device--before strolling past Rodney and into the dining room. Rodney stands gaping, before he hears the tell-tale signs of rings, and servants begin filing into the house. Tentatively, he makes his way back to the dining room.
Daniel is standing behind his chair, smile still in place. “Have I ever expressed how much I appreciate all you do for me, Rodney?”
The hairs on the back of Rodney’s neck stand up. He’s tempted to bolt, but knows it’s a futile thought. Instead, he leans on the back of his usual chair and frowns. “I have my own mansion, a base of lab rats, and access to the greatest technology in the world. I’d say you express it every time you give my projects approval.” He isn’t some lackey that needs to be patted on the head, and for all of Daniel’s megalomaniac tendencies, Rodney thought Daniel had retained some of his insight into people.
“Ah, the Halo project.” Daniel’s brow furrows for a moment. “All right, but we’ll be taking it slow.” His forehead smoothes out again. “And I know, Rodney. But I think you deserve something more. If I could, I’d put in a good word for Sam, but…”
Rodney clenches the back of his chair so hard it creaks, and he wills himself not to show anything but hurt on his face. “You think I’m lonely.”
For a moment, Daniel’s eyes narrow. “I know you are.”
A reminder that Daniel knows everything Rodney does, a reminder Rodney doesn’t need. And really, it isn’t much of a secret, so there’s little harm in admitting it. He rolls his eyes. “Then it must not have escaped your attention that I’m terribly busy and have no time for a social life, much less solicit a hooker--which I don’t need to do to get laid! I could have any-”
Daniel laughs, waving a hand at Rodney, the jewelry-free hand. It sounds hollow, even forced. “I know, Rodney, I know. I’ve heard how all your little minions are incompetent morons that you have to watch eternally.” The smiling mask slides back into place as he presses buttons on the back of the ribbon device. A minute later the rings in the corner (an emergency escape set, according to Daniel) activate, and deposit three people.
The man on the right, holding a staff weapon is Daniel’s head of prisoner security, Colonel Bates. He’s strict, rude, and likes to shoot first, never ask questions. Rodney also knows those are the only parts of Bates’ personality that survived Daniel’s brainwashing. The other man is young, a new gate guard by the name of Ford. Since the younger generation embraced the peaceful yet seemingly-free world, they only underwent some mental conditioning that prevented them from turning towards the Resistance. Ford is a fun young man, that smiles way too much for an ex-marine in Rodney’s opinion.
Between them, on his knees in a torn, filthy black security uniform, is a man Rodney has never seen before. His hair, though limping, still seems to stick up as if he’d been pressed against a pillow. His right eye is swollen shut, matching the throbbing side of his cheek. There’s a bruise on the left temple, left from the removal of a memory device, along with a gash that had barely crusted over. There are welts, cuts, and bruises all over the rest of him, and Rodney wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few broken bones. The man’s hands are shackled in front of him, and a collar is locked around his neck, a glowing green crystal indicating that the silencing device is working.
Daniel glancses at the prisoner. “This is John Sheppard. Ex-Air Force. He likes ferris wheels, things that go over 200 miles an hour…” Daniel’s smile slips away, leaving the straight-lipped, cold emperor that was so often hidden in front of Rodney. “He infiltrated my bunker quite effectively. Almost disabled the satellites before the nanites took him down.”
Rodney winces, feeling sorry for the man. He’d developed the nanites--based on the Argos virus--to infect and render helpless anyone in the command bunker that was working at a station they weren’t allowed to. One touch was all it’d take to be affected, and though the effect of the nanites was painful, Rodney had engineered them to be as quick as possible.
“He was well trained, took almost twenty hours to tear all the intel from his mind.” Colonel Bates’ face twists into a sick grin, and Rodney feels a his own stomach churn. “He’s not much use to me anymore. So, I give him to you.” Daniel shrugs one shoulder. “A gift, a pet. Treat him as you want.”
Sheppard looks up sharply--or what must have seemed sharply for a man with an obvious concussion--and Rodney sees fear for an instant, than anger, before it is replaced with empty acceptance. Beaten, bloody, but not broken. Rodney isn’t a people person, but he can at least recognize that. Which means that he’d probably at least try to escape, if not simply try and kill him. Still, if Rodney rejects Daniel’s gift (as if he could, this was Daniel after all), he’s willing to bet Bates will execute the man then and there.
He frowns as he takes Sheppard’s bedraggled state, then gives Daniel a tight, crooked smile. “Thanks. I’ll try to prevent him from peeing in your yard.” Daniel smiles brightly back, as if Rodney had made him the happiest man alive. Ignoring the urge to roll he eyes, he looks first at Bates, then Ford. It’s the younger man he snaps his fingers at. “Well? Don’t just stand there. Bring him to, to…” He has to think for a moment. “To the guest room in the east wing.”
Ford grins at him. “You got it, McKay.” Bates shifts his glare to Ford, probably for not affording Doctor McKay the proper respect. Rodney only cared if his peers got it right. Besides, Ford is one of the better guards, so Rodney’s willing to cut him some slack (not trust him, but he’d trust Ford over Bates any day). After a minute, the three of them vanish behind the rings, and Rodney is left alone with Daniel.
They stand there in silence for a minute, then Daniel raises an eyebrow. “So, Rodney. Breakfast?”
Rodney feels rather sick to his stomach, but he’s used to ignoring that, especially after Daniel springs surprises on him. “Finally. I’m hypoglycemic, you know.” He takes his seat as Daniel rolls his eyes and summons the servants to bring in the food.
~*()*~
Since Daniel had already approved Project Halo, Rodney spent most of breakfast discussing the progress of various projects, and his projections for future projects (there were official reports he submitted, but for some reason Daniel preferred to discuss them in person). He doesn’t return to his own compound until almost ten, upon which it’s only seeing Bates leaving his front door that he remembers his new ‘pet’ in the East wing.
Feeling uneasy, he heads towards the guest rooms. It’s easy to figure out which room Sheppard is in, Ford is standing guard outside. Ignoring the grinning Lieutenant, he enters the room and shuts the door behind him. Sheppard is still kneeling, a new bruise on his other cheek, undoubtedly from Bates. His head remains down, until the door closes, then Sheppard looks up, sharp hazel eyes looking Rodney over. Rodney stands there for a minute, then approaches the man cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal (and maybe that isn’t far from the truth, he figures).
The manacles, he sees, glisten a dull green in the light from the window, meaning they’re made from refined naquada. He also sees another chain snake between John’s legs, and leaning a bit to the left Rodney can see Sheppard’s ankles have a matching set of restraints. No wonder the man isn’t moving, the metal weighs a ton. Stopping in front of the man, Rodney hesitates, then reaches down. Sheppard tenses and inhales sharply, eyes now locked on the wall.
Rodney waits a moment, then runs his thumb over the green crystal in the necklace, deactivating it. Then he steps back so Sheppard will feel more comfortable. Sheppard doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, just continues to kneel at attention. Finally, Rodney lets out a huff of air and crosses his arms. “So are you actually mute, or has the cat got your tongue.” He frowns. “Watch out for her, by the way. She likes to claw people she doesn’t know.”
That gets a reaction, minor though it is. Sheppard’s eyes dart around the room, seeking out the cat, before focusing on the wall again. Tapping his foot, Rodney debates what to do, then rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m not exactly thrilled with getting you as a pet,” he knows Daniel will hear this, but he’s said less flattering things about Daniel’s ‘gifts’ before and has only been punished by spending time with Shifu. “But you can either relax and get used to the idea, or I can call Colonel Bates and let him do to you what he wants.”
Sheppard frowns at that, but his chest puffs up. Obviously, he’s one of those ‘death before dishonor’ idiots. “And despite what you might’ve heard, I’m not exactly enamored with sending people to their deaths.” He kneels on the ground and reaches for the manacles. “So why don’t we both just make the best of a bad situation and you get with the program.”
Sheppard finally looks at Rodney, and after a small staring contest, he smiles slowly (sultry, Rodney thinks), and leans forward so their cheeks are almost touching. “If you let me go, McKay,” the voice is low, rumbling, and sends a cold shiver down Rodney’s spine. “I’ll snap your neck before you can blink.”
Rodney jerks back, losing his balance and falling back on his ass. His eyes are wide as he takes in Sheppard’s smug look. He’s smirking, but his eyes are cold and sharp, and Rodney knows it’s no idle threat. Scowling, he gets back to his feet. “Well, fine. Not like I wanted a pet anyways. I owe Sumner, he can have you.”
Real fear flashes across Sheppard’s face, and Rodney almost--almost--feels sorry for the man. Sumner is an ex-marine that Daniel charged with hunting out all Resistance groups. Bates may have been an asshole, but Sumner took real delight in breaking people. He’d seen some of the videos (and subsequently lost his breakfast--he was able to blame food poisoning, but Daniel knew he’d gotten his point across), and turning over Sheppard to Sumner is, in many respects, worse than a death sentence.
But he has plans, long-term plans, to free the Earth. He can’t deal with a ‘pet’ that’s trying to kill him. He can only devote so much energy to watch his own back; all of which has to be directed to protect himself from Daniel’s eyes and ears. He just can’t deal with Sheppard, not now, not when he finally has the ball rolling.
Of course, it’s a bluff; he’d rather let Bates shoot Sheppard than hand him over to Sumner; but with luck, Sheppard won’t know that. Or at least won’t call his bluff.
After five minutes, Sheppard’s shoulders straighten again and his eyes take on the hardness from before. “Then do what you have to do.” His voice is resigned, even pained.
“Oh come on!” Rodney stomps on the floor. “You can’t be that much of an idiot!” Sheppard jerks back in surprise at Rodney’s outburst. “You can’t be that eager to be a martyr! Sumner will torture you! You can’t really want to be turned into a mindless shell of your former self!” His scowl deepens. “I hate self-sacrificing idiots! You have a choice here, and you’re making the wrong one!”
“Hmm…shot on sight, tortured, or raped by the second-biggest monster on the planet. Decisions, decisions.” The note of resignation is still there, but there is also a hint of a sarcastic drawl.
“Raped--what kind of twisted bastard do you think I am?!”
“You’re Daniel’s right hand man-”
“And that means I take beat-up resistance prisoners and fuck them for pleasure?! Is that the propaganda going around?! Christ! No wonder you Resistance freaks are failing! You’re all a bunch of morons!”
Sheppard’s eyes narrow, and a bit of the unbroken spirit rears its head. “This Resistance ‘freak’ nearly shut down the defense system. It was only because you programmed those nanites-”
“Because idiots who don’t have a clue how the technology works shouldn’t touch it! If you just shut the system down, there’s a good chance they’d overload, or worse, start firing randomly!” It was a failsafe Daniel had insisted on installing, after the US President attempted to shut the system down a second time. The world leaders know what would happen, but the information is deliberately kept from the public.
Apparently they had done such a good job of keeping it a secret that even the Resistance didn’t know, if Sheppard’s widening eyes are anything to go by. “He wouldn’t…Jackson wants to protect-”
“And he knew he needed some sort of failsafe incase some moron figured out a remote system. They’d see the additional programming and be forced to stop because only Sam or Daniel could find a way around my codes.” He isn’t worried about giving away state secrets. The compounds are designed to keep people in as much as to keep strangers out. And Sheppard…he’d most likely be shot if he even attempted to leave.
“Sam?”
Rodney flinches slightly, sticking his chin out. “Sam Carter. The second most brilliant mind on this planet. At least, before she committed…suicide.”
And Sheppard’s suspicious look is now back. “She was murdered.”
Rodney finds it rather ironic that Sheppard will never know how much Rodney wants to confirm his statement. “Whatever.” He waves the topic away. “Now can you just…put away all the macho martyr crap and, and…” He searches for an appropriate phrase.
“Lay back and take it?” Sheppard winces as he shifts his arms. “I’d rather die-”
“I’m not going to fuck you! I don’t care if live in this room until you die!” Rodney crosses his arms again and fumes. The man is being impossible.
“Then what do you care what happens?” Emotion creeps into Sheppard’s voice, disgust (at Rodney or himself, Rodney can’t tell), anger, and just the barest sliver of hope. “If you don’t care what happens to me, then why don’t you have the Colonel execute me?!”
Rodney stews over that for a minute. He certainly can’t answer honestly, not without signing his own death sentence. “Daniel gave you to me as a pet.”
“He gave me to you as a fuck toy,” John says bitterly.
Rodney snorts. "Yes, well, Daniel and I actually have some differing opinions in that area. If he wanted to get me a present, I think I'd have just preferred another cat." John's head actually snaps up and his eyes went comically wide. Rodney frowns slightly, until the way his words might have sounded actually register. "Not like THAT!" he protests indignantly. "Is that all you Resistance-people think about? Never mind, don't answer that. Look, whatever you think I'm going to do to you, I can assure you I have no interest in doing."
Rodney's mouth narrows into a thin slit and he scowls at the other man. "Your virtue is perfectly safe with me." John doesn’t answer, and for what felt like the hundredth time, Rodney rolls his eyes heavenward, wondering why he’s even bothering. "I swear on your intact virtue that I have never abused Hathor." Hathor had come to him named, and had simply refused to acknowledge anything else. Plus, while Daniel loved the animal, the name always seemed to discomfort him. Rodney was all for throwing Daniel off, even if it was over a stupid name.
“So, what? I’m your new cat?” The sarcasm was back.
“As long as you don’t pee on the curtains and try to lick yourself in front of company, sure.” Rodney pauses, then approaches Sheppard again. This time, Sheppard doesn’t tense, but he watches Rodney, eyes narrow. Rodney kneels beside Sheppard, moving slowly. He finds the latch on one of the ankle manacles, and releases it. Sheppard remains still as Rodney then reaches over and unlatches the second one. He backs up again, this time sitting on the edge of the (way too flowery, but the interior designer had insisted) bed.
Sheppard keeps up the eye contact, but he shifts first one ankle, then the second, and after another few minutes of scrutiny, closes his eyes before falling to the side and rolling out of the restraints. The chain attached to his hands keeps him from moving far, but when he rights himself, he’s able to sit properly, with his back almost (but not touching, Rodney notices) the wall. Finally, the eyes open again. His mouth is partially open, but nothing comes out.
Rodney lets some of his usual irritation leave his voice. “I’m a very busy man, Sheppard. I don’t have time to deal with you trying to kill me, or any little rebellions or sabotage attempts or any other Resistance ideas you have. If you can’t just…deal with this, I will send you to Bates.” He isn’t even going to bluff with Sumner now, he doubts Sheppard would believe him at this point anyways. “I’m not going to fuck you, literally or in the head.”
Sheppard’s voice is quiet. “I can’t trust you. You helped him make this base, helped him take over the planet.” He isn’t looking at Rodney, he’s focusing on the chain hanging from between his hands. “For all I know, I’m your next practice dummy for your latest ray gun.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Carson’s the only one who uses dummies for anything.” The geneticist had been brought in shortly after finding the Ancient gene data from the Asgard computer. “I’m not saying you have to like me, or that I want you to be my best friend, or anything like that. But this,” he waves his arm around the room, “this has to be better than the alternative.”
Sheppard closes his eyes again, letting out a sigh. “I was ready to die on this mission. If anyone found out I was alive…”
“Please. Do you really think there’s Resistance in here that Daniel hasn’t found? It’s kind of hard to fight the Tok’ra memory device.”
Sheppard’s shoulders hunch at that. “I don’t want to live a…a prisoner of war.”
“Well, maybe when you get over this whole need to kill me, you can help me in the lab. Or help clean.” Sheppard opens one questioning eye at him. In response, Rodney throws up his arms. “I don’t know! I’m terrible at this! You think I’ve had a lot of experience in talking stupid people out of committing suicide?! At least I’m trying!”
A corner of Sheppard’s mouth twitches upwards. “You don’t get a lot of visitors, do you.”
“What part of ‘very busy man’ did you not get?”
Sheppard rolls his eyes, then looks back at his manacles. Silence reigned again, but not as long this time. “You’re not like the lectures.”
“Oh? What does your propaganda say about me? That I blow up busloads of nuns? Eat children? Kick puppies every chance I get?”
“No. Well, yes to the puppies.”
“I do not-”
Sheppard ignores his outrage. “But they paint you similar to Sumner. Only you execute lab interns and scientists who disagree with you. That you test all your inventions on innocents, or prisoners.” Sheppard pauses, and Rodney really doesn’t know what to say. This was the first time he’s heard real Resistance propaganda. “Very competent, with no cares about the world, only obsessed with science and pleasing Daniel. They say,” and he seems to hesitate for a beat, “they say you’re the second-in-command, the one who runs the world when Daniel’s busy. And that you wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a continent to get a point across.”
“I’m worse than Daniel? I blow up continents?”
“Yup.”
Rodney snorts. “Let me put your mind at ease, Sheppard. The only interns that died have done so due to their own stupidity in handling very dangerous objects. I have never executed anyone, nor do I really want to. I run my tests on soldiers who, you know will USE the equipment I design. Yes, I’m obsessed with my work, but I also spend three hours with Hathor each day, and work with universities once a month to make sure they’re not breeding another generation of idiot physicists.”
Sheppard doesn’t relax. “Are you his second-in-command? Do you run the world?”
“Please. If I ran the world-” Rodney stops there, frowning for a moment, then shrugs. “Actually, Daniel can have the world. I hate politics.” Sheppard glances at him from under his eyelashes. “And I’m Daniel’s…well…advisor. He wouldn’t put me in command. Do you really think I’d handle well under the pressure?”
Another tug at the lips. “No, I guess not.” He sighs. “But you’re still going to design technology to help Daniel, to help kill my friends.”
“Daniel pulled all the information from your mind. Your friends are probably dead.” He’s seen it happen before, happen in less than a day. Bates is very efficient with information. “And yes, I am. Because it’s my job. And I do actually enjoy it on some level.” It was advanced alien technology, how could he not?
Sheppard clenches his fists. “I won’t help you.”
“I’m not asking you to. You’re ex-military. The most I’d expect from you is to fetch my coffee. Or entertain Hathor.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “And make my bed. The maid never gets it quite right.”
Once again Sheppard goes silent. This time, it lasts more than just a few minutes. It lasts long enough that Rodney thinks Sheppard has passed out sitting up. But, finally, the fists unclench, and Sheppard lets out a long breath. “If you think I’m going to be another slave, that I won’t take him out the first chance I get-”
“I’m fully aware of the Resistance’s goals, and if you want to commit suicide after our little talk, fine. I’m just asking you to--as corny as it sounds--live. For a prison, it’s not bad.” He glances around. “And I could, um, you know…bring a book…or talk about hockey or something.”
“I won’t be your friend, either,” Sheppard whispers.
Rodney freezes for a moment, but lets it go. “So, if you’re going to be my pet,” Sheppard flinches at that, “we need to get you taken care of. If I go get Carson, will you kill him?”
“Carson?”
“Well, I could get Doctor Sanji, but I thought you’d prefer a doctor over a veterinarian.”
“He won’t…”
Half of Rodney’s mouth turns upward, eyes twinkling slightly. “I wouldn’t worry. He cries every time he injects his mice for benign experiments.”
Sheppard looks up at him again, exploring his face. Finally, a small, worried smile appears. “Well, if you think I need a band-aid or two…”
“I keep my pets well, Sheppard.” Standing up, he heads for the door. “And if you promise to try not to kill him, I’ll even get Ford to leave the manacles off.”
Sheppard glances down at his hands, and, after an obviously conflicted moment, nods. “Okay.” He lets out another deep breath. “Okay.”
~*()*~
Rodney doesn’t get back to Sheppard for almost four days. In that time, he’s begun issuing orders for the Halo project, looking for proper resources from universities (manpower was all well and good, but he needed brains for this project), and has one talk with Daniel (where the man indicated he was…displeased by Rodney’s handling of the Sheppard situation, but let it slide--Bates was only a ring trip away, after all).
When his attention is finally pulled towards Sheppard again, it’s because Ford (who has been promoted to Sheppard’s personal guard) sought him out saying Sheppard was acting stir crazy. So, scooping up Hathor and grabbing a few of his favorite novels, he heads for the east wing to entertain his other ‘pet.’ As soon as he opens the door, Sheppard visibly perked up. Dead eyes flash with emotion, he began straightening up (and tried to subtly hide the bandages Carson had applied by pulling his sleeves down), and his hair seemed to defy gravity more than it had a moment ago.
“McKay.” Sheppard’s tone is cautious, and definitely strained. “Good to see you.”
Ford stops outside the door, but doesn’t enter. Rodney isn’t foolish enough to close the door for privacy. Sheppard may have agreed to try behaving, but he still remembered the cold fury, the training Sheppard has that could end Rodney’s life in a literal heartbeat. So, he steps in the room and sets Hathor down. She immediately begins investigating the room. Sheppard watches as she moves around, and if Rodney hadn’t known how good at deception Sheppard is, he’d say the man’s full attention was on the cat.
Rodney ignores Hathor and sets the books down on the antique (and he’d nearly bludgeoned the decorator for bringing in a wood desk when he’d specifically stated he hated antiques) desk facing the window that John had been pacing in front of moments ago. “I hear you’re wearing a hole in my very nice floor.”
“You have ugly rugs, McKay.” Sheppard was already turning his attention away from Hathor and approaching the desk, reaching for the top book. “Dune?”
Rodney sniffs. “It’s a classic.”
“I know. I’ve read it.”
“I can take it back.” Sheppard has already put it out of Rodney’s reach, fingers exploring the cover of the next book as if it were a long-lost lover. His eyes caught a bit of white under the edge of the sleeve of the black turtleneck. “Is someone changing your bandages?” And just like that, Sheppard’s walls went back up.
“Yeah. Doc Beckett’s taking care of me.” He tugs the sleeves down again.
Rodney doesn’t need to see Sheppard’s wounds to believe it. Carson’s good. He simply nods, standing there shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “So, uh, you settling in?”
“I’m a prisoner, McKay.” Sheppard’s eyes stray to the books again, then to the window. “I don’t like being confined.”
“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you joined the Resistance.”
Sheppard shoots him an annoyed look. “Yes, because living under the threat of obliteration is so much better.”
“There’s something to be said for world peace.”
“I’m sure the victims of Moscow would disagree.” John looks out the window.
“The good of the few and all that. As a soldier, I’d think you’d know that.” Rodney doesn’t really believe what he’s was saying. Some incidents, like Iran, had been necessary to stop a nuclear holocaust. But Moscow…that had simply been cruel. For all his plans, though, Rodney can’t vocally renounce Daniel’s actions.
“There’s the good of the many, McKay, and mass murder.” Sheppard’s tone is darker, eyes shadowed in the reflection from the window. “He was ruthless.”
Rodney shrugs. “I didn’t know Daniel then. And when it happened, I was busy organizing the chaos afterward.” He still has nightmares of that day at Area 52. He bites his lip. “What were you doing that day?”
John’s shoulders bunch up, and he stuffs his hands in the pockets of the new BDUs. “What do you care?”
“I was at Area 52,” Rodney says, moving over to the bed to pet Hathor, who had curled up on the bedspread. “We were monitoring the satellite launch, and when they turned on Moscow…people lost it. The military tried to lock everything down, but have you ever seen panicked scientists? There was almost a shoot out.” Rodney looks down to his pet. “You want to know why Daniel chose me? Other than my brilliance, of course. Greatest natural genius on the planet.”
He can see Sheppard’s jaw clench from the corner of his eye, but no sound is forthcoming. “Daniel chose me,” Rodney continues, “because I stood on a lab table and threw a very heavy piece of equipment across the room.” He glances up in time to see Sheppard’s eyes focus on him. “Yeah. It was the only way I could think of to get everyone’s attention. Two years of research, destroyed. But it got the job done. From there, I sent the military out to lock down the base, told the scientists what to do, prepared for war, prepared to survive a siege.
“I took people’s mind off of the disaster, gave them something to focus on, made them productive. We were all thinking of Moscow’s obliteration, it haunted us, but it didn’t stop us. I may not handle well under the pressure of, say, a world. But a lab? A military base? Yeah, I can handle it. But I saved a potentially volatile situation from erupting. And considering the weapons and technology we were handling? That’s a big deal. Without me, the entire state of Nevada could be gone today.”
Finished, Rodney looks back to Hathor. The feline has rolled onto its side, and Rodney obligingly rubs her stomach. He doesn’t know if Sheppard will share as well, but with luck it will show the man that Rodney is just as human as he is. Sure, he’d left out the whole freaking out and losing control of his stomach thing, but Sheppard really doesn’t need to hear about that.
“I was in the air.”
Rodney’s head snaps up. John is still staring out the window, but his hands are out of his pockets, gripping the edge of the desk. “In the air?”
“I entered the air force to fly. We were on alert because of the satellites. After Moscow, the President…” Sheppard’s hands tighten on the wood. “We were grounded.” He looks at Rodney’s reflection. “I lived to fly, McKay. Jackson took that away from me when he disbanded the armies of the world. The Resistance was my only hope of flying again without being brainwashed.”
And in the years since Rodney had been working with Daniel, commercial flights had basically been replaced. Why risk the dangers of air travel when you could simply ring to the other side of the planet in a minute. Only Daniel’s personal soldiers got to fly now, modified X-302s (and Rodney still thought the military name was stupid) used to patrol the world, scouring out unrest and Resistance.
Sheppard’s shoulders drop. “I had friends stationed in Russia. Most of them died, some…the horror stories, the aftermath.” John looks over his shoulder. “Have you seen the pictures of ground zero? Of the area around it? Some people died when half of their bodies vaporized. Just…vaporized! And all they were guilty of was going out for a stroll that morning!” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t live under that. I can’t-” He turns around abruptly. “You can’t get it, McKay. This life, living under a tyrant, indiscriminate incarceration and execution…”
“It hasn’t been all bad,” Rodney keeps his voice firm, even if in his head it’s trembling slightly.
“Oh come on! You can’t seriously tell me Carter’s death wasn’t bad! That the geniuses lost in Moscow, or Iran, or Germany weren’t bad! We fought for freedom, we DIED for freedom! And now…now…” Sheppard lets out a frustrated grunt and sits against the edge of the desk. “No one has any civil liberties,” he finally says, energy seeming to drain out of him. “Even you, McKay.”
Preaching to the choir, is all Rodney could think of. He says, “If you’re trying to recruit me, or change my mind about what I’m doing? Don’t bother. Alien technology outweighs civil liberties any day. And hello, ring technology? Healing devices? You think I’m going to give up the comforts of living under Daniel for scrounging and scraping and living a life on the run underground?”
A weak smile spreads across Sheppard’s face. “I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Yes, well, save the American patriot speech for someone who isn’t Canadian.”
Sheppard nods, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “I suppose the whole ‘being a revolutionary is sexy’ speech won’t work, either.”
“Do I look like someone who’s desperate for sex?” At that, Sheppard raises his eyebrows, and Rodney can swear he hears Ford cough. “You know what, don’t answer that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, McKay.”
“I have a first name, you know.”
Sheppard blinks at him, looking slightly confused. “Uh, all I really remember is McKay. That’s the name they hammered in us to remember on ‘list of people to kill on sight.’”
Rodney rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. The whole Resistance ‘off with his head’ mentality. We’ve been over it.” He lets out a huff of breath. “Rodney. You can call me Rodney.”
“I dunno. I’m kinda partial to McKay.”
“Well, considering Daniel is already referring to you as my new John,” this time Sheppard coughs, harshly, “then you can at least call me Rodney.”
“He calls me your new John?” Amusement creeps into Sheppard--John’s tone.
“Yes. He’s a subtle man.”
“As a brick.” John’s sad smile is a little brighter. “So he thinks-”
“It’s what he wants. I’ve made it clear I’m not about to do that. Just ask Hathor. I don’t involve my pets with my sexual practices for at least a year.”
“Poor Hathor.”
“She got off easy. The intern she jumped on needed four stitches.” That gets a little chuckle out of the man. It’s a good sound, and it makes him look, well, charming. A little bit. His face is still bruised (obviously Carson hadn’t been able to get the healing device to work well…again). But still, it’s a nice look. He glances out the window, at the blue sky. “You know, I haven’t been outside since, well, since I got you.”
“You haven’t?” Surprise is evident in his tone.
“I mean what with the radiation from the sun and the bees that could kill me and all my allergies I try to avoid the outside as much as possible, but it’d be a waste to use the rings to go from here to Daniel’s, so I walk--but even so I power walk because I keep a record of my radiation exposure to-”
“Rodney.”
The way John drawls the name, almost exasperated, catches Rodney’s attention. He crosses his arms tensely. “I’m just saying--look, do you want to join me for a walk?”
John blinks slowly. “A walk.”
“Yes. Outside.” He waves his hand towards the window, to the very large yard. “Unless you’d rather stay in here and start on the book-”
John steps past him and stands at the door’s threshold, practically bouncing on his feet. “Let’s go, McKay. Solar radiation waits for no man.”
“Ha ha. Just for that, I’m not sharing my sun block. I made it myself, SPF 90.” He notices Ford fall into step next to him, still grinning but one hand resting on the zat, ready and willing to shoot Sheppard at the first sign of trouble. Rodney doesn’t like the situation, but as John’s face lights up, spreading his arms to breathe the fresh air in deeply, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can change it.
~*()*~
Rodney decides to change his habits as the months go on. While his behavior at the labs doesn’t change in the slightest, he now takes weekends off to spend time with John (granted, ‘weekends’ is an approximation of 48 hours that he takes off during the week, not the traditional Saturday-Sunday model). He takes John out every day (after the first week, John drops the ‘here to walk the dog, McKay’ routine and just goes with it). Sheppard even joins him for dinner twice a week.
They’re building something, a bridge, a relationship...maybe even trust. They still argue; from serious things like Daniel being in charge or the Resistance, to the inane--is Harrison Ford better as Indiana Jones (Rodney) or as Han Solo (Sheppard). Rodney is keeping a careful mental record of their progress, and when he comes to see John in the middle of the fourth month, he knows he’s won a major victor. For the first time, John isn’t wary or guarded, doesn’t flinch when Rodney approaches. He can see that John is finally accepting that Rodney will do nothing to overtly harm him.
Rodney surprises himself by throwing John a surprise party, complete with cake and presents and, for the first time ever, no Ford. Granted, there’s a bracelet on Rodney’s wrist that’s also on some innocent young girl’s so that if John does anything to harm him, the girl will be harmed as well. That had been Daniel’s stipulation (through Bates). John knew Rodney didn’t want that, wanted to trust him; Rodney could see it in the sympathetic face he made--and there wasn’t a hint of hurt.
Eight months after his arrival, John has the freedom to move about the house part of the compound. Ford still hangs around, but Rodney has seen him and John smiling together, watching movies, enjoying each other’s company. He can see John loosening up, becoming accustomed to his lifestyle, adapting. Every now and then, though, he sees John staring out the window, a shroud of sadness enveloping his posture. Rodney would bet that if he could see into John’s skull, he’d be thinking of the other Resistance members, of his betrayal, and maybe guilt for enjoying the life he now leads.
Daniel seems more content with the situation, still having Rodney over for Friday breakfasts. In the tenth month, Daniel also invites John (and the look on Bates’ face when they both arrive sans Ford is worth the knot in his stomach, as far as Rodney’s concerned). Things are tense, walls that had been all but stripped were suddenly rebuilt, and Rodney could see John transform from laidback pseudo-friend to Resistance prisoner. Until Shifu came in.
John remained guarded, but he and Shifu hit it off (to the annoyance of Daniel and irritation of Rodney). They talked about school, skateboarding, and other ‘cool kid’ stuff. Rodney split his attention between John and Daniel. For once, Daniel didn’t bring up the current status of projects (again, he had all the paperwork, so he was still up-to-date), but Daniel doesn’t invite John back. John doesn’t take it personally (though Shifu comes over from time to time afterwards, Bates always less than a foot behind him).
The Halo project (and Rodney’s personal one) are almost halfway complete when the one year anniversary of John’s new life occurs. To celebrate, Rodney takes two days off and brings Sheppard to one of the empty fields almost a kilometer away from the house (and farther than John has ever ventured since becoming Rodney’s pet).
“Bit of a long stroll, McKay.” John has his hands behind his head, eyes on the sky, but one keeps darting down to glance at Rodney as they walk. “Not taking me to some place where you can hide the body, are you?”
It’s a joke, and they both know it. Rodney wouldn’t hurt John, and while Rodney wants to believe the reverse is true, the bracelet is still a part of his wardrobe. “I just thought you’d like something special for our anniversary.”
Sheppard grinned. “Did you build me a really big sundial?”
Rodney snorted. “Yes, because I’m just that much of a traditionalist.”
“I thought traditionally the first anniversary was paper. Did you plant me a tree?”
They’re rising over the final hill, and Rodney stops at the peak and turns around. “Look, just…close your eyes.” John rolls them first, but then he does, still walking forward until Rodney grabs his arm and stops him, angling him so he has the perfect view. It took almost two weeks to convince Daniel, and a million reassurances that he could handle this. He just hopes he’s right, and John won’t screw them both over. “Okay.”
John sucks in a sharp breath as soon as he opens his eyes. “Is that…?” His voice is shocked, and a little strangled.
“Yeah. An X-302. It’s an earlier model, and they made me remove all the weapons, but…uh…” Rodney crossed his arms, thrusting his chin out. “I thought you’d like to fly. For an hour or two.”
“Rodney…” There’s no drawl this time. There’s pain, and elation, and other emotions Rodney can’t even identify. There’s also a spark that’s been missing in John’s eyes, a brightness that Rodney has never seen before. Then, without preamble, John runs down the hill. Rodney watches, happy and apprehensive, and turns to look at the clouds. It really is a nice day, sunny and warm, but overcast enough that he can’t spot the other 302s in the air, waiting to shoot John down if he tries to escape.
He’s pulled from his musings when John is suddenly beside him, panting and grinning and grabbing his arm. “Come with me.”
“What?” It came out as a squawk.
“Flying. Come with me.” Without waiting for an answer, John is running back down the hill, dragging Rodney behind him.
“Wait! Wait, I don’t--I get airsick!” He nearly trips over a stray rock. “Sheppard! You almost broke my ankle! And there’s no way! I don’t fly. I hate flying! I hated flying when-” And then there were next to the vehicle, and John was still grinning, both arms on Rodney’s shoulders. “This is for you, I really don’t-”
“Trust me.” John squeezes his shoulders. “Please.”
Somehow, between the earnest tone and the joy sparking across the eyes, Rodney finds himself in the copilot seat, strapped in and watching John’s reflection as he starts up the preflight, and then they‘re soaring. Dipping and weaving and Rodney is gripping tightly to the straps across his chest because he’s NEVER flown like this (and never wants to) and he can see the two guards they have just itching to pull the trigger.
But John notices none of it, or if he does, he ignores it. He’s yelling out “hang on” and “woohoo!” and “hey, wanna do a barrel roll” and ignoring Rodney’s panicked responses while laughing. And then, then they’re up in orbit, facing the Earth. The two 302s are hovering in front of them, waiting, watching. John isn’t looking at them. Rodney can see, in the reflection, that they’re locked on the glowing blue orb spinning beneath their craft. And for an entire second, Rodney can swear he sees tears in John’s eyes.
Then they’re dive bombing the planet and Rodney’s screaming and telling John’s he’s insane and trying to find the fucking eject button and does just as John pulls them out of the dive and lands them closer to the estate, giving Rodney a superior smirk over his shoulder. Rodney has the cockpit open and is stumbling to the ground within seconds, and he sees John’s feet land beside him after a minute. “Enjoyed the ride, McKay?”
“You…you maniac! It’s a good thing you were grounded! That was INSANE!”
John laughs and helps Rodney to his feet. “I know. Cool, huh?”
“I nearly passed out! You aren’t supposed to pull Gees like that!”
“You’d faint from only two Gees?”
“Pass out!” Rodney corrects, still glaring, but there’s no real anger (well, some, because John is an insane pilot). He can see how good this has been for John, how much this gift meant. “I am never flying with you again!”
And then John kisses him.
It takes Rodney by such surprise that at first he isn’t really sure what was going on. Then John really gets into it, and Rodney finds a tongue in his mouth and god, suction, and it’s been so long, since before Daniel took over. And it’s good, really good. And he hates to break it, but he has to. With reluctance, he pushes John away, gasping a little as he tries to get enough air again.
John speaks before he can. “Thanks, Rodney.” The tone is whispered, reserved, and Rodney just knew this would be the perfect gift for John.
“That wasn’t…you don’t have to-”
“You let me see the world, McKay.” John moves closer, rubbing his hands up and down Rodney’s arms. “You let me fly again…god, Rodney. This…you have no idea how much this means-”
“I have some,” is all Rodney can whisper, because he does. If anyone took away his science, the technology he gets to play with… “But this,” he glances at the 302, “it wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to-”
“I want to.” John leans forward, kissing him briefly on his cheek. “I want…Rodney, please. Let me…”
And if Rodney were a bigger man, he could refuse this, could see that maybe this was just the endorphins from the flight. But Rodney, while practical (and secretive) is also only human. John is gorgeous, and the temptation is too much. “Okay,” he agrees as he pushes John against the hull of the craft. “Okay.”
~*( Part 2)*~
Author: Cypher
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Main Character(s): Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill
Warnings: Slash, language, minor character death, unbetaed, spoilers for Absolute Power and beyond (SG1 and Atlantis)
Rating: Mature (R)
Summary: “He was well trained, took almost twenty hours to tear all the intel from his mind. He’s not much use to me anymore. So, I give him to you. A gift, a pet. Treat him as you want.”
Word Count: 19,200
Author's Notes: A fic that’s been on hold for a while, sethoz requested something McShep (with Lorne), and low and behold, this is the result! It’s betaed, but neither she nor I use present tense very often, so apologies for any glaring errors on that count. Otherwise, Happy Birthday sethoz, and enjoy!
Absolute Corruption
(Part 1)
The day Samantha Carter was put in jail, Rodney McKay put in twenty calls using every personal favor he had to either get her released, or at least get in to see her and discover for himself if she truly was insane.
The day Moscow vanished from the face of the Earth, Rodney found himself the voice of reason in a sea of chaos. He directed the scientists to their labs, deactivated all major power sources throughout the base, then found a tiny supply closet where he proceeded to ignore his claustrophobia and chant to himself ‘this can’t be real, this can’t be real, oh my god, they destroyed Moscow!’ before throwing up four times.
The day after, he was transported to one Daniel Jackson, and offered a job.
Head of Extraterrestrial Research. It meant he had to remain in the underground bunker for a few months, before the compound was deemed safe, but he didn’t mind. Actually, he didn’t have a choice. Daniel had made it clear he’d put up with Rodney’s attitude, put up with his insults and snide comments and curses, as long as he showed results. And if he didn’t, he’d be tortured. It wasn’t overtly stated, but the threat was implied.
Five years later, he has his own compound, adjacent to Daniel’s, and he runs Area 52. He’s considered one of the most powerful men in the world. “Rodney McKay,” some whisper, “Daniel Jackson’s right-hand man.” Others would shy away from him, saying “that’s McKay, the Devil’s hand.” There are even some who question whether Daniel really is the man in charge, or if McKay is actually pulling the strings.
Rodney knows all of this, because Daniel has spies and cameras everywhere, and shows it to Rodney over breakfast one morning. It’s amusing, with some laughter and jokes, but while Daniel is smiling, his eyes are steel, and Rodney knew that the man who had said, “Naw, it’s really MCKAY who runs things” had not survived the day.
Breakfast at the Jackson’s is a weekly event, and sometimes Daniel’s son is there--a wasp in Rodney’s side because he always bugs Rodney to play a game or check out some asinine drawing. The kid was Daniel’s only vice, though, and after one round with the ribbon device, Rodney knew better than to insult, hurt, or even glare at the little brat. Rodney suspects Daniel knows it’s a front, but tolerates it because he’s so good at what he does.
Technological advancement is at an all-time high, so much so that Rodney had told Daniel last week that starships could be built soon; ones that would rival the strength and speed of the Goa'uld, probably even surpass them. He wasn’t given the go-ahead, of course. Daniel always thought long and hard before granting a project to continue. But Earth was safe, the nations had settled (peace was enforced through sheer obliteration--much of the Middle East was now missing), and the ships would allow for colony worlds, as well as a chance to engage and take down the Goa'uld.
It’s a triumphant moment for humanity, and Rodney plays up its importance, as well as his excitement (which he didn’t have to play up too much). It isn’t real, though. For all of Rodney’s hard work and dedication, he’s seen what Daniel’s power play has cost. He knows Sam didn’t committed suicide, not with how professionally her throat had been cut. He’d lost a good scientific rival and potential second-in-command when Moscow was wiped out, and the loss of Zelenka’s genius has dimmed the overall scientific community in Rodney’s opinion.
So for all the whispers, the looks, the assumption that Rodney McKay is Daniel Jackson’s best commander, a blind follower, he actually isn’t. He has ways of preventing Daniel from seeing him--he helped develop Daniel’s latest surveillance equipment, after all--he knows how everything works, from the defense satellites to the ring transporters now located around the globe.
And he knows that all he needs is a starship, and he can stop this, stop Daniel. He can take down the defense system--even destroy it if necessary--without using the access codes Daniel has provided him with (he didn’t trust them anyways, what lunatic would hand out access codes to the world?). He knows how to disable the brainwashed soldiers thanks to an intentional design flaw in their cranial microchips. He just had to be sure to be off the planet on a ship he could control--and override, if Daniel somehow outsmarted him--in order to do it.
The civilian population would be able to handle the security forces, and as for Daniel…well, there were rogue cells--terrorists, according to the tightly controlled media--that were fighting against the Goa'uld-like oppression. The Resistance still had arms, still evaded capture, and once security and weapons were down, they’d take on the heavily-armed compound (Rodney already had a worm designed to take out its security protocols within hours). It’d be a bloody battle, and he doubted he’d survive, but he couldn’t sit by and do nothing.
At times, he wondered if this was how Tok’ra operatives felt when finally plotting the demise of the Goa'uld they’d served so faithfully. Just a few more years, he just has to make it long enough to get the first starship operational and convince Daniel he has to be on it for the dry run. Then it can finally be finished, and Sam’s death, along with the thousands of others, will finally be avenged.
That was the future, however, and today is once again Breakfast at the Jackson’s. From the signs of it, the brat wouldn’t be in today (Rodney now vaguely recalled a brief paragraph from Daniel about a trip to Greece for a school project). Since there are no servants around to guide him, he simply lets himself into the dining room and takes his usual seat. It isn’t the first time Daniel has been late, and it allows Rodney to compose his arguments (he’s expecting the project to be approved today, but just in case he has a fourteen-week plan that will eventually force Daniel to capitulate without him seeming like a nagging scientist).
After thirty minutes, he’s detailed his fourteen-week plan so finely he has it down to eleven weeks, and his stomach is rumbling. After an hour, he stands up and uses the button by the doorway summoning the help. When no one comes, Rodney wondered if there’s been an attack and they’re all hiding in the bunker (in which case, why hadn’t they thought to warn him?). After a minute of indecision, Rodney heads for the kitchen, to sneak out the back (in case it IS an attack) and beg forgiveness if it’s something else.
He lets out an unmanly yelp when Daniel materializes in front of the doorway. Not literally materializes (they’re still working on understanding the stolen Asgard transporter), but enough so that Rodney is caught off-guard. Daniel is as well, apparently, for confusion blooms on his face, before it settles into the usual easy smile. The eyes even sparkle a bit, and McKay takes an involuntary step back. “Rodney, I’m sorry. I forgot about our breakfast.”
“Nice to know I’m memorable.” Corners of the smile twitch. “So what was it this time? Uprising in Kuwait? International conference?”
“Actually, just gathering some information.” Daniel looks Rodney up and down appraisingly, and Rodney swallows. “I think you can help.” Nodding his head once, Daniel snaps his fingers twice--Rodney flinches back at seeing the ribbon device--before strolling past Rodney and into the dining room. Rodney stands gaping, before he hears the tell-tale signs of rings, and servants begin filing into the house. Tentatively, he makes his way back to the dining room.
Daniel is standing behind his chair, smile still in place. “Have I ever expressed how much I appreciate all you do for me, Rodney?”
The hairs on the back of Rodney’s neck stand up. He’s tempted to bolt, but knows it’s a futile thought. Instead, he leans on the back of his usual chair and frowns. “I have my own mansion, a base of lab rats, and access to the greatest technology in the world. I’d say you express it every time you give my projects approval.” He isn’t some lackey that needs to be patted on the head, and for all of Daniel’s megalomaniac tendencies, Rodney thought Daniel had retained some of his insight into people.
“Ah, the Halo project.” Daniel’s brow furrows for a moment. “All right, but we’ll be taking it slow.” His forehead smoothes out again. “And I know, Rodney. But I think you deserve something more. If I could, I’d put in a good word for Sam, but…”
Rodney clenches the back of his chair so hard it creaks, and he wills himself not to show anything but hurt on his face. “You think I’m lonely.”
For a moment, Daniel’s eyes narrow. “I know you are.”
A reminder that Daniel knows everything Rodney does, a reminder Rodney doesn’t need. And really, it isn’t much of a secret, so there’s little harm in admitting it. He rolls his eyes. “Then it must not have escaped your attention that I’m terribly busy and have no time for a social life, much less solicit a hooker--which I don’t need to do to get laid! I could have any-”
Daniel laughs, waving a hand at Rodney, the jewelry-free hand. It sounds hollow, even forced. “I know, Rodney, I know. I’ve heard how all your little minions are incompetent morons that you have to watch eternally.” The smiling mask slides back into place as he presses buttons on the back of the ribbon device. A minute later the rings in the corner (an emergency escape set, according to Daniel) activate, and deposit three people.
The man on the right, holding a staff weapon is Daniel’s head of prisoner security, Colonel Bates. He’s strict, rude, and likes to shoot first, never ask questions. Rodney also knows those are the only parts of Bates’ personality that survived Daniel’s brainwashing. The other man is young, a new gate guard by the name of Ford. Since the younger generation embraced the peaceful yet seemingly-free world, they only underwent some mental conditioning that prevented them from turning towards the Resistance. Ford is a fun young man, that smiles way too much for an ex-marine in Rodney’s opinion.
Between them, on his knees in a torn, filthy black security uniform, is a man Rodney has never seen before. His hair, though limping, still seems to stick up as if he’d been pressed against a pillow. His right eye is swollen shut, matching the throbbing side of his cheek. There’s a bruise on the left temple, left from the removal of a memory device, along with a gash that had barely crusted over. There are welts, cuts, and bruises all over the rest of him, and Rodney wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few broken bones. The man’s hands are shackled in front of him, and a collar is locked around his neck, a glowing green crystal indicating that the silencing device is working.
Daniel glancses at the prisoner. “This is John Sheppard. Ex-Air Force. He likes ferris wheels, things that go over 200 miles an hour…” Daniel’s smile slips away, leaving the straight-lipped, cold emperor that was so often hidden in front of Rodney. “He infiltrated my bunker quite effectively. Almost disabled the satellites before the nanites took him down.”
Rodney winces, feeling sorry for the man. He’d developed the nanites--based on the Argos virus--to infect and render helpless anyone in the command bunker that was working at a station they weren’t allowed to. One touch was all it’d take to be affected, and though the effect of the nanites was painful, Rodney had engineered them to be as quick as possible.
“He was well trained, took almost twenty hours to tear all the intel from his mind.” Colonel Bates’ face twists into a sick grin, and Rodney feels a his own stomach churn. “He’s not much use to me anymore. So, I give him to you.” Daniel shrugs one shoulder. “A gift, a pet. Treat him as you want.”
Sheppard looks up sharply--or what must have seemed sharply for a man with an obvious concussion--and Rodney sees fear for an instant, than anger, before it is replaced with empty acceptance. Beaten, bloody, but not broken. Rodney isn’t a people person, but he can at least recognize that. Which means that he’d probably at least try to escape, if not simply try and kill him. Still, if Rodney rejects Daniel’s gift (as if he could, this was Daniel after all), he’s willing to bet Bates will execute the man then and there.
He frowns as he takes Sheppard’s bedraggled state, then gives Daniel a tight, crooked smile. “Thanks. I’ll try to prevent him from peeing in your yard.” Daniel smiles brightly back, as if Rodney had made him the happiest man alive. Ignoring the urge to roll he eyes, he looks first at Bates, then Ford. It’s the younger man he snaps his fingers at. “Well? Don’t just stand there. Bring him to, to…” He has to think for a moment. “To the guest room in the east wing.”
Ford grins at him. “You got it, McKay.” Bates shifts his glare to Ford, probably for not affording Doctor McKay the proper respect. Rodney only cared if his peers got it right. Besides, Ford is one of the better guards, so Rodney’s willing to cut him some slack (not trust him, but he’d trust Ford over Bates any day). After a minute, the three of them vanish behind the rings, and Rodney is left alone with Daniel.
They stand there in silence for a minute, then Daniel raises an eyebrow. “So, Rodney. Breakfast?”
Rodney feels rather sick to his stomach, but he’s used to ignoring that, especially after Daniel springs surprises on him. “Finally. I’m hypoglycemic, you know.” He takes his seat as Daniel rolls his eyes and summons the servants to bring in the food.
~*()*~
Since Daniel had already approved Project Halo, Rodney spent most of breakfast discussing the progress of various projects, and his projections for future projects (there were official reports he submitted, but for some reason Daniel preferred to discuss them in person). He doesn’t return to his own compound until almost ten, upon which it’s only seeing Bates leaving his front door that he remembers his new ‘pet’ in the East wing.
Feeling uneasy, he heads towards the guest rooms. It’s easy to figure out which room Sheppard is in, Ford is standing guard outside. Ignoring the grinning Lieutenant, he enters the room and shuts the door behind him. Sheppard is still kneeling, a new bruise on his other cheek, undoubtedly from Bates. His head remains down, until the door closes, then Sheppard looks up, sharp hazel eyes looking Rodney over. Rodney stands there for a minute, then approaches the man cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal (and maybe that isn’t far from the truth, he figures).
The manacles, he sees, glisten a dull green in the light from the window, meaning they’re made from refined naquada. He also sees another chain snake between John’s legs, and leaning a bit to the left Rodney can see Sheppard’s ankles have a matching set of restraints. No wonder the man isn’t moving, the metal weighs a ton. Stopping in front of the man, Rodney hesitates, then reaches down. Sheppard tenses and inhales sharply, eyes now locked on the wall.
Rodney waits a moment, then runs his thumb over the green crystal in the necklace, deactivating it. Then he steps back so Sheppard will feel more comfortable. Sheppard doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, just continues to kneel at attention. Finally, Rodney lets out a huff of air and crosses his arms. “So are you actually mute, or has the cat got your tongue.” He frowns. “Watch out for her, by the way. She likes to claw people she doesn’t know.”
That gets a reaction, minor though it is. Sheppard’s eyes dart around the room, seeking out the cat, before focusing on the wall again. Tapping his foot, Rodney debates what to do, then rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m not exactly thrilled with getting you as a pet,” he knows Daniel will hear this, but he’s said less flattering things about Daniel’s ‘gifts’ before and has only been punished by spending time with Shifu. “But you can either relax and get used to the idea, or I can call Colonel Bates and let him do to you what he wants.”
Sheppard frowns at that, but his chest puffs up. Obviously, he’s one of those ‘death before dishonor’ idiots. “And despite what you might’ve heard, I’m not exactly enamored with sending people to their deaths.” He kneels on the ground and reaches for the manacles. “So why don’t we both just make the best of a bad situation and you get with the program.”
Sheppard finally looks at Rodney, and after a small staring contest, he smiles slowly (sultry, Rodney thinks), and leans forward so their cheeks are almost touching. “If you let me go, McKay,” the voice is low, rumbling, and sends a cold shiver down Rodney’s spine. “I’ll snap your neck before you can blink.”
Rodney jerks back, losing his balance and falling back on his ass. His eyes are wide as he takes in Sheppard’s smug look. He’s smirking, but his eyes are cold and sharp, and Rodney knows it’s no idle threat. Scowling, he gets back to his feet. “Well, fine. Not like I wanted a pet anyways. I owe Sumner, he can have you.”
Real fear flashes across Sheppard’s face, and Rodney almost--almost--feels sorry for the man. Sumner is an ex-marine that Daniel charged with hunting out all Resistance groups. Bates may have been an asshole, but Sumner took real delight in breaking people. He’d seen some of the videos (and subsequently lost his breakfast--he was able to blame food poisoning, but Daniel knew he’d gotten his point across), and turning over Sheppard to Sumner is, in many respects, worse than a death sentence.
But he has plans, long-term plans, to free the Earth. He can’t deal with a ‘pet’ that’s trying to kill him. He can only devote so much energy to watch his own back; all of which has to be directed to protect himself from Daniel’s eyes and ears. He just can’t deal with Sheppard, not now, not when he finally has the ball rolling.
Of course, it’s a bluff; he’d rather let Bates shoot Sheppard than hand him over to Sumner; but with luck, Sheppard won’t know that. Or at least won’t call his bluff.
After five minutes, Sheppard’s shoulders straighten again and his eyes take on the hardness from before. “Then do what you have to do.” His voice is resigned, even pained.
“Oh come on!” Rodney stomps on the floor. “You can’t be that much of an idiot!” Sheppard jerks back in surprise at Rodney’s outburst. “You can’t be that eager to be a martyr! Sumner will torture you! You can’t really want to be turned into a mindless shell of your former self!” His scowl deepens. “I hate self-sacrificing idiots! You have a choice here, and you’re making the wrong one!”
“Hmm…shot on sight, tortured, or raped by the second-biggest monster on the planet. Decisions, decisions.” The note of resignation is still there, but there is also a hint of a sarcastic drawl.
“Raped--what kind of twisted bastard do you think I am?!”
“You’re Daniel’s right hand man-”
“And that means I take beat-up resistance prisoners and fuck them for pleasure?! Is that the propaganda going around?! Christ! No wonder you Resistance freaks are failing! You’re all a bunch of morons!”
Sheppard’s eyes narrow, and a bit of the unbroken spirit rears its head. “This Resistance ‘freak’ nearly shut down the defense system. It was only because you programmed those nanites-”
“Because idiots who don’t have a clue how the technology works shouldn’t touch it! If you just shut the system down, there’s a good chance they’d overload, or worse, start firing randomly!” It was a failsafe Daniel had insisted on installing, after the US President attempted to shut the system down a second time. The world leaders know what would happen, but the information is deliberately kept from the public.
Apparently they had done such a good job of keeping it a secret that even the Resistance didn’t know, if Sheppard’s widening eyes are anything to go by. “He wouldn’t…Jackson wants to protect-”
“And he knew he needed some sort of failsafe incase some moron figured out a remote system. They’d see the additional programming and be forced to stop because only Sam or Daniel could find a way around my codes.” He isn’t worried about giving away state secrets. The compounds are designed to keep people in as much as to keep strangers out. And Sheppard…he’d most likely be shot if he even attempted to leave.
“Sam?”
Rodney flinches slightly, sticking his chin out. “Sam Carter. The second most brilliant mind on this planet. At least, before she committed…suicide.”
And Sheppard’s suspicious look is now back. “She was murdered.”
Rodney finds it rather ironic that Sheppard will never know how much Rodney wants to confirm his statement. “Whatever.” He waves the topic away. “Now can you just…put away all the macho martyr crap and, and…” He searches for an appropriate phrase.
“Lay back and take it?” Sheppard winces as he shifts his arms. “I’d rather die-”
“I’m not going to fuck you! I don’t care if live in this room until you die!” Rodney crosses his arms again and fumes. The man is being impossible.
“Then what do you care what happens?” Emotion creeps into Sheppard’s voice, disgust (at Rodney or himself, Rodney can’t tell), anger, and just the barest sliver of hope. “If you don’t care what happens to me, then why don’t you have the Colonel execute me?!”
Rodney stews over that for a minute. He certainly can’t answer honestly, not without signing his own death sentence. “Daniel gave you to me as a pet.”
“He gave me to you as a fuck toy,” John says bitterly.
Rodney snorts. "Yes, well, Daniel and I actually have some differing opinions in that area. If he wanted to get me a present, I think I'd have just preferred another cat." John's head actually snaps up and his eyes went comically wide. Rodney frowns slightly, until the way his words might have sounded actually register. "Not like THAT!" he protests indignantly. "Is that all you Resistance-people think about? Never mind, don't answer that. Look, whatever you think I'm going to do to you, I can assure you I have no interest in doing."
Rodney's mouth narrows into a thin slit and he scowls at the other man. "Your virtue is perfectly safe with me." John doesn’t answer, and for what felt like the hundredth time, Rodney rolls his eyes heavenward, wondering why he’s even bothering. "I swear on your intact virtue that I have never abused Hathor." Hathor had come to him named, and had simply refused to acknowledge anything else. Plus, while Daniel loved the animal, the name always seemed to discomfort him. Rodney was all for throwing Daniel off, even if it was over a stupid name.
“So, what? I’m your new cat?” The sarcasm was back.
“As long as you don’t pee on the curtains and try to lick yourself in front of company, sure.” Rodney pauses, then approaches Sheppard again. This time, Sheppard doesn’t tense, but he watches Rodney, eyes narrow. Rodney kneels beside Sheppard, moving slowly. He finds the latch on one of the ankle manacles, and releases it. Sheppard remains still as Rodney then reaches over and unlatches the second one. He backs up again, this time sitting on the edge of the (way too flowery, but the interior designer had insisted) bed.
Sheppard keeps up the eye contact, but he shifts first one ankle, then the second, and after another few minutes of scrutiny, closes his eyes before falling to the side and rolling out of the restraints. The chain attached to his hands keeps him from moving far, but when he rights himself, he’s able to sit properly, with his back almost (but not touching, Rodney notices) the wall. Finally, the eyes open again. His mouth is partially open, but nothing comes out.
Rodney lets some of his usual irritation leave his voice. “I’m a very busy man, Sheppard. I don’t have time to deal with you trying to kill me, or any little rebellions or sabotage attempts or any other Resistance ideas you have. If you can’t just…deal with this, I will send you to Bates.” He isn’t even going to bluff with Sumner now, he doubts Sheppard would believe him at this point anyways. “I’m not going to fuck you, literally or in the head.”
Sheppard’s voice is quiet. “I can’t trust you. You helped him make this base, helped him take over the planet.” He isn’t looking at Rodney, he’s focusing on the chain hanging from between his hands. “For all I know, I’m your next practice dummy for your latest ray gun.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Carson’s the only one who uses dummies for anything.” The geneticist had been brought in shortly after finding the Ancient gene data from the Asgard computer. “I’m not saying you have to like me, or that I want you to be my best friend, or anything like that. But this,” he waves his arm around the room, “this has to be better than the alternative.”
Sheppard closes his eyes again, letting out a sigh. “I was ready to die on this mission. If anyone found out I was alive…”
“Please. Do you really think there’s Resistance in here that Daniel hasn’t found? It’s kind of hard to fight the Tok’ra memory device.”
Sheppard’s shoulders hunch at that. “I don’t want to live a…a prisoner of war.”
“Well, maybe when you get over this whole need to kill me, you can help me in the lab. Or help clean.” Sheppard opens one questioning eye at him. In response, Rodney throws up his arms. “I don’t know! I’m terrible at this! You think I’ve had a lot of experience in talking stupid people out of committing suicide?! At least I’m trying!”
A corner of Sheppard’s mouth twitches upwards. “You don’t get a lot of visitors, do you.”
“What part of ‘very busy man’ did you not get?”
Sheppard rolls his eyes, then looks back at his manacles. Silence reigned again, but not as long this time. “You’re not like the lectures.”
“Oh? What does your propaganda say about me? That I blow up busloads of nuns? Eat children? Kick puppies every chance I get?”
“No. Well, yes to the puppies.”
“I do not-”
Sheppard ignores his outrage. “But they paint you similar to Sumner. Only you execute lab interns and scientists who disagree with you. That you test all your inventions on innocents, or prisoners.” Sheppard pauses, and Rodney really doesn’t know what to say. This was the first time he’s heard real Resistance propaganda. “Very competent, with no cares about the world, only obsessed with science and pleasing Daniel. They say,” and he seems to hesitate for a beat, “they say you’re the second-in-command, the one who runs the world when Daniel’s busy. And that you wouldn’t hesitate to destroy a continent to get a point across.”
“I’m worse than Daniel? I blow up continents?”
“Yup.”
Rodney snorts. “Let me put your mind at ease, Sheppard. The only interns that died have done so due to their own stupidity in handling very dangerous objects. I have never executed anyone, nor do I really want to. I run my tests on soldiers who, you know will USE the equipment I design. Yes, I’m obsessed with my work, but I also spend three hours with Hathor each day, and work with universities once a month to make sure they’re not breeding another generation of idiot physicists.”
Sheppard doesn’t relax. “Are you his second-in-command? Do you run the world?”
“Please. If I ran the world-” Rodney stops there, frowning for a moment, then shrugs. “Actually, Daniel can have the world. I hate politics.” Sheppard glances at him from under his eyelashes. “And I’m Daniel’s…well…advisor. He wouldn’t put me in command. Do you really think I’d handle well under the pressure?”
Another tug at the lips. “No, I guess not.” He sighs. “But you’re still going to design technology to help Daniel, to help kill my friends.”
“Daniel pulled all the information from your mind. Your friends are probably dead.” He’s seen it happen before, happen in less than a day. Bates is very efficient with information. “And yes, I am. Because it’s my job. And I do actually enjoy it on some level.” It was advanced alien technology, how could he not?
Sheppard clenches his fists. “I won’t help you.”
“I’m not asking you to. You’re ex-military. The most I’d expect from you is to fetch my coffee. Or entertain Hathor.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “And make my bed. The maid never gets it quite right.”
Once again Sheppard goes silent. This time, it lasts more than just a few minutes. It lasts long enough that Rodney thinks Sheppard has passed out sitting up. But, finally, the fists unclench, and Sheppard lets out a long breath. “If you think I’m going to be another slave, that I won’t take him out the first chance I get-”
“I’m fully aware of the Resistance’s goals, and if you want to commit suicide after our little talk, fine. I’m just asking you to--as corny as it sounds--live. For a prison, it’s not bad.” He glances around. “And I could, um, you know…bring a book…or talk about hockey or something.”
“I won’t be your friend, either,” Sheppard whispers.
Rodney freezes for a moment, but lets it go. “So, if you’re going to be my pet,” Sheppard flinches at that, “we need to get you taken care of. If I go get Carson, will you kill him?”
“Carson?”
“Well, I could get Doctor Sanji, but I thought you’d prefer a doctor over a veterinarian.”
“He won’t…”
Half of Rodney’s mouth turns upward, eyes twinkling slightly. “I wouldn’t worry. He cries every time he injects his mice for benign experiments.”
Sheppard looks up at him again, exploring his face. Finally, a small, worried smile appears. “Well, if you think I need a band-aid or two…”
“I keep my pets well, Sheppard.” Standing up, he heads for the door. “And if you promise to try not to kill him, I’ll even get Ford to leave the manacles off.”
Sheppard glances down at his hands, and, after an obviously conflicted moment, nods. “Okay.” He lets out another deep breath. “Okay.”
~*()*~
Rodney doesn’t get back to Sheppard for almost four days. In that time, he’s begun issuing orders for the Halo project, looking for proper resources from universities (manpower was all well and good, but he needed brains for this project), and has one talk with Daniel (where the man indicated he was…displeased by Rodney’s handling of the Sheppard situation, but let it slide--Bates was only a ring trip away, after all).
When his attention is finally pulled towards Sheppard again, it’s because Ford (who has been promoted to Sheppard’s personal guard) sought him out saying Sheppard was acting stir crazy. So, scooping up Hathor and grabbing a few of his favorite novels, he heads for the east wing to entertain his other ‘pet.’ As soon as he opens the door, Sheppard visibly perked up. Dead eyes flash with emotion, he began straightening up (and tried to subtly hide the bandages Carson had applied by pulling his sleeves down), and his hair seemed to defy gravity more than it had a moment ago.
“McKay.” Sheppard’s tone is cautious, and definitely strained. “Good to see you.”
Ford stops outside the door, but doesn’t enter. Rodney isn’t foolish enough to close the door for privacy. Sheppard may have agreed to try behaving, but he still remembered the cold fury, the training Sheppard has that could end Rodney’s life in a literal heartbeat. So, he steps in the room and sets Hathor down. She immediately begins investigating the room. Sheppard watches as she moves around, and if Rodney hadn’t known how good at deception Sheppard is, he’d say the man’s full attention was on the cat.
Rodney ignores Hathor and sets the books down on the antique (and he’d nearly bludgeoned the decorator for bringing in a wood desk when he’d specifically stated he hated antiques) desk facing the window that John had been pacing in front of moments ago. “I hear you’re wearing a hole in my very nice floor.”
“You have ugly rugs, McKay.” Sheppard was already turning his attention away from Hathor and approaching the desk, reaching for the top book. “Dune?”
Rodney sniffs. “It’s a classic.”
“I know. I’ve read it.”
“I can take it back.” Sheppard has already put it out of Rodney’s reach, fingers exploring the cover of the next book as if it were a long-lost lover. His eyes caught a bit of white under the edge of the sleeve of the black turtleneck. “Is someone changing your bandages?” And just like that, Sheppard’s walls went back up.
“Yeah. Doc Beckett’s taking care of me.” He tugs the sleeves down again.
Rodney doesn’t need to see Sheppard’s wounds to believe it. Carson’s good. He simply nods, standing there shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “So, uh, you settling in?”
“I’m a prisoner, McKay.” Sheppard’s eyes stray to the books again, then to the window. “I don’t like being confined.”
“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you joined the Resistance.”
Sheppard shoots him an annoyed look. “Yes, because living under the threat of obliteration is so much better.”
“There’s something to be said for world peace.”
“I’m sure the victims of Moscow would disagree.” John looks out the window.
“The good of the few and all that. As a soldier, I’d think you’d know that.” Rodney doesn’t really believe what he’s was saying. Some incidents, like Iran, had been necessary to stop a nuclear holocaust. But Moscow…that had simply been cruel. For all his plans, though, Rodney can’t vocally renounce Daniel’s actions.
“There’s the good of the many, McKay, and mass murder.” Sheppard’s tone is darker, eyes shadowed in the reflection from the window. “He was ruthless.”
Rodney shrugs. “I didn’t know Daniel then. And when it happened, I was busy organizing the chaos afterward.” He still has nightmares of that day at Area 52. He bites his lip. “What were you doing that day?”
John’s shoulders bunch up, and he stuffs his hands in the pockets of the new BDUs. “What do you care?”
“I was at Area 52,” Rodney says, moving over to the bed to pet Hathor, who had curled up on the bedspread. “We were monitoring the satellite launch, and when they turned on Moscow…people lost it. The military tried to lock everything down, but have you ever seen panicked scientists? There was almost a shoot out.” Rodney looks down to his pet. “You want to know why Daniel chose me? Other than my brilliance, of course. Greatest natural genius on the planet.”
He can see Sheppard’s jaw clench from the corner of his eye, but no sound is forthcoming. “Daniel chose me,” Rodney continues, “because I stood on a lab table and threw a very heavy piece of equipment across the room.” He glances up in time to see Sheppard’s eyes focus on him. “Yeah. It was the only way I could think of to get everyone’s attention. Two years of research, destroyed. But it got the job done. From there, I sent the military out to lock down the base, told the scientists what to do, prepared for war, prepared to survive a siege.
“I took people’s mind off of the disaster, gave them something to focus on, made them productive. We were all thinking of Moscow’s obliteration, it haunted us, but it didn’t stop us. I may not handle well under the pressure of, say, a world. But a lab? A military base? Yeah, I can handle it. But I saved a potentially volatile situation from erupting. And considering the weapons and technology we were handling? That’s a big deal. Without me, the entire state of Nevada could be gone today.”
Finished, Rodney looks back to Hathor. The feline has rolled onto its side, and Rodney obligingly rubs her stomach. He doesn’t know if Sheppard will share as well, but with luck it will show the man that Rodney is just as human as he is. Sure, he’d left out the whole freaking out and losing control of his stomach thing, but Sheppard really doesn’t need to hear about that.
“I was in the air.”
Rodney’s head snaps up. John is still staring out the window, but his hands are out of his pockets, gripping the edge of the desk. “In the air?”
“I entered the air force to fly. We were on alert because of the satellites. After Moscow, the President…” Sheppard’s hands tighten on the wood. “We were grounded.” He looks at Rodney’s reflection. “I lived to fly, McKay. Jackson took that away from me when he disbanded the armies of the world. The Resistance was my only hope of flying again without being brainwashed.”
And in the years since Rodney had been working with Daniel, commercial flights had basically been replaced. Why risk the dangers of air travel when you could simply ring to the other side of the planet in a minute. Only Daniel’s personal soldiers got to fly now, modified X-302s (and Rodney still thought the military name was stupid) used to patrol the world, scouring out unrest and Resistance.
Sheppard’s shoulders drop. “I had friends stationed in Russia. Most of them died, some…the horror stories, the aftermath.” John looks over his shoulder. “Have you seen the pictures of ground zero? Of the area around it? Some people died when half of their bodies vaporized. Just…vaporized! And all they were guilty of was going out for a stroll that morning!” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t live under that. I can’t-” He turns around abruptly. “You can’t get it, McKay. This life, living under a tyrant, indiscriminate incarceration and execution…”
“It hasn’t been all bad,” Rodney keeps his voice firm, even if in his head it’s trembling slightly.
“Oh come on! You can’t seriously tell me Carter’s death wasn’t bad! That the geniuses lost in Moscow, or Iran, or Germany weren’t bad! We fought for freedom, we DIED for freedom! And now…now…” Sheppard lets out a frustrated grunt and sits against the edge of the desk. “No one has any civil liberties,” he finally says, energy seeming to drain out of him. “Even you, McKay.”
Preaching to the choir, is all Rodney could think of. He says, “If you’re trying to recruit me, or change my mind about what I’m doing? Don’t bother. Alien technology outweighs civil liberties any day. And hello, ring technology? Healing devices? You think I’m going to give up the comforts of living under Daniel for scrounging and scraping and living a life on the run underground?”
A weak smile spreads across Sheppard’s face. “I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Yes, well, save the American patriot speech for someone who isn’t Canadian.”
Sheppard nods, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “I suppose the whole ‘being a revolutionary is sexy’ speech won’t work, either.”
“Do I look like someone who’s desperate for sex?” At that, Sheppard raises his eyebrows, and Rodney can swear he hears Ford cough. “You know what, don’t answer that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, McKay.”
“I have a first name, you know.”
Sheppard blinks at him, looking slightly confused. “Uh, all I really remember is McKay. That’s the name they hammered in us to remember on ‘list of people to kill on sight.’”
Rodney rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. The whole Resistance ‘off with his head’ mentality. We’ve been over it.” He lets out a huff of breath. “Rodney. You can call me Rodney.”
“I dunno. I’m kinda partial to McKay.”
“Well, considering Daniel is already referring to you as my new John,” this time Sheppard coughs, harshly, “then you can at least call me Rodney.”
“He calls me your new John?” Amusement creeps into Sheppard--John’s tone.
“Yes. He’s a subtle man.”
“As a brick.” John’s sad smile is a little brighter. “So he thinks-”
“It’s what he wants. I’ve made it clear I’m not about to do that. Just ask Hathor. I don’t involve my pets with my sexual practices for at least a year.”
“Poor Hathor.”
“She got off easy. The intern she jumped on needed four stitches.” That gets a little chuckle out of the man. It’s a good sound, and it makes him look, well, charming. A little bit. His face is still bruised (obviously Carson hadn’t been able to get the healing device to work well…again). But still, it’s a nice look. He glances out the window, at the blue sky. “You know, I haven’t been outside since, well, since I got you.”
“You haven’t?” Surprise is evident in his tone.
“I mean what with the radiation from the sun and the bees that could kill me and all my allergies I try to avoid the outside as much as possible, but it’d be a waste to use the rings to go from here to Daniel’s, so I walk--but even so I power walk because I keep a record of my radiation exposure to-”
“Rodney.”
The way John drawls the name, almost exasperated, catches Rodney’s attention. He crosses his arms tensely. “I’m just saying--look, do you want to join me for a walk?”
John blinks slowly. “A walk.”
“Yes. Outside.” He waves his hand towards the window, to the very large yard. “Unless you’d rather stay in here and start on the book-”
John steps past him and stands at the door’s threshold, practically bouncing on his feet. “Let’s go, McKay. Solar radiation waits for no man.”
“Ha ha. Just for that, I’m not sharing my sun block. I made it myself, SPF 90.” He notices Ford fall into step next to him, still grinning but one hand resting on the zat, ready and willing to shoot Sheppard at the first sign of trouble. Rodney doesn’t like the situation, but as John’s face lights up, spreading his arms to breathe the fresh air in deeply, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can change it.
~*()*~
Rodney decides to change his habits as the months go on. While his behavior at the labs doesn’t change in the slightest, he now takes weekends off to spend time with John (granted, ‘weekends’ is an approximation of 48 hours that he takes off during the week, not the traditional Saturday-Sunday model). He takes John out every day (after the first week, John drops the ‘here to walk the dog, McKay’ routine and just goes with it). Sheppard even joins him for dinner twice a week.
They’re building something, a bridge, a relationship...maybe even trust. They still argue; from serious things like Daniel being in charge or the Resistance, to the inane--is Harrison Ford better as Indiana Jones (Rodney) or as Han Solo (Sheppard). Rodney is keeping a careful mental record of their progress, and when he comes to see John in the middle of the fourth month, he knows he’s won a major victor. For the first time, John isn’t wary or guarded, doesn’t flinch when Rodney approaches. He can see that John is finally accepting that Rodney will do nothing to overtly harm him.
Rodney surprises himself by throwing John a surprise party, complete with cake and presents and, for the first time ever, no Ford. Granted, there’s a bracelet on Rodney’s wrist that’s also on some innocent young girl’s so that if John does anything to harm him, the girl will be harmed as well. That had been Daniel’s stipulation (through Bates). John knew Rodney didn’t want that, wanted to trust him; Rodney could see it in the sympathetic face he made--and there wasn’t a hint of hurt.
Eight months after his arrival, John has the freedom to move about the house part of the compound. Ford still hangs around, but Rodney has seen him and John smiling together, watching movies, enjoying each other’s company. He can see John loosening up, becoming accustomed to his lifestyle, adapting. Every now and then, though, he sees John staring out the window, a shroud of sadness enveloping his posture. Rodney would bet that if he could see into John’s skull, he’d be thinking of the other Resistance members, of his betrayal, and maybe guilt for enjoying the life he now leads.
Daniel seems more content with the situation, still having Rodney over for Friday breakfasts. In the tenth month, Daniel also invites John (and the look on Bates’ face when they both arrive sans Ford is worth the knot in his stomach, as far as Rodney’s concerned). Things are tense, walls that had been all but stripped were suddenly rebuilt, and Rodney could see John transform from laidback pseudo-friend to Resistance prisoner. Until Shifu came in.
John remained guarded, but he and Shifu hit it off (to the annoyance of Daniel and irritation of Rodney). They talked about school, skateboarding, and other ‘cool kid’ stuff. Rodney split his attention between John and Daniel. For once, Daniel didn’t bring up the current status of projects (again, he had all the paperwork, so he was still up-to-date), but Daniel doesn’t invite John back. John doesn’t take it personally (though Shifu comes over from time to time afterwards, Bates always less than a foot behind him).
The Halo project (and Rodney’s personal one) are almost halfway complete when the one year anniversary of John’s new life occurs. To celebrate, Rodney takes two days off and brings Sheppard to one of the empty fields almost a kilometer away from the house (and farther than John has ever ventured since becoming Rodney’s pet).
“Bit of a long stroll, McKay.” John has his hands behind his head, eyes on the sky, but one keeps darting down to glance at Rodney as they walk. “Not taking me to some place where you can hide the body, are you?”
It’s a joke, and they both know it. Rodney wouldn’t hurt John, and while Rodney wants to believe the reverse is true, the bracelet is still a part of his wardrobe. “I just thought you’d like something special for our anniversary.”
Sheppard grinned. “Did you build me a really big sundial?”
Rodney snorted. “Yes, because I’m just that much of a traditionalist.”
“I thought traditionally the first anniversary was paper. Did you plant me a tree?”
They’re rising over the final hill, and Rodney stops at the peak and turns around. “Look, just…close your eyes.” John rolls them first, but then he does, still walking forward until Rodney grabs his arm and stops him, angling him so he has the perfect view. It took almost two weeks to convince Daniel, and a million reassurances that he could handle this. He just hopes he’s right, and John won’t screw them both over. “Okay.”
John sucks in a sharp breath as soon as he opens his eyes. “Is that…?” His voice is shocked, and a little strangled.
“Yeah. An X-302. It’s an earlier model, and they made me remove all the weapons, but…uh…” Rodney crossed his arms, thrusting his chin out. “I thought you’d like to fly. For an hour or two.”
“Rodney…” There’s no drawl this time. There’s pain, and elation, and other emotions Rodney can’t even identify. There’s also a spark that’s been missing in John’s eyes, a brightness that Rodney has never seen before. Then, without preamble, John runs down the hill. Rodney watches, happy and apprehensive, and turns to look at the clouds. It really is a nice day, sunny and warm, but overcast enough that he can’t spot the other 302s in the air, waiting to shoot John down if he tries to escape.
He’s pulled from his musings when John is suddenly beside him, panting and grinning and grabbing his arm. “Come with me.”
“What?” It came out as a squawk.
“Flying. Come with me.” Without waiting for an answer, John is running back down the hill, dragging Rodney behind him.
“Wait! Wait, I don’t--I get airsick!” He nearly trips over a stray rock. “Sheppard! You almost broke my ankle! And there’s no way! I don’t fly. I hate flying! I hated flying when-” And then there were next to the vehicle, and John was still grinning, both arms on Rodney’s shoulders. “This is for you, I really don’t-”
“Trust me.” John squeezes his shoulders. “Please.”
Somehow, between the earnest tone and the joy sparking across the eyes, Rodney finds himself in the copilot seat, strapped in and watching John’s reflection as he starts up the preflight, and then they‘re soaring. Dipping and weaving and Rodney is gripping tightly to the straps across his chest because he’s NEVER flown like this (and never wants to) and he can see the two guards they have just itching to pull the trigger.
But John notices none of it, or if he does, he ignores it. He’s yelling out “hang on” and “woohoo!” and “hey, wanna do a barrel roll” and ignoring Rodney’s panicked responses while laughing. And then, then they’re up in orbit, facing the Earth. The two 302s are hovering in front of them, waiting, watching. John isn’t looking at them. Rodney can see, in the reflection, that they’re locked on the glowing blue orb spinning beneath their craft. And for an entire second, Rodney can swear he sees tears in John’s eyes.
Then they’re dive bombing the planet and Rodney’s screaming and telling John’s he’s insane and trying to find the fucking eject button and does just as John pulls them out of the dive and lands them closer to the estate, giving Rodney a superior smirk over his shoulder. Rodney has the cockpit open and is stumbling to the ground within seconds, and he sees John’s feet land beside him after a minute. “Enjoyed the ride, McKay?”
“You…you maniac! It’s a good thing you were grounded! That was INSANE!”
John laughs and helps Rodney to his feet. “I know. Cool, huh?”
“I nearly passed out! You aren’t supposed to pull Gees like that!”
“You’d faint from only two Gees?”
“Pass out!” Rodney corrects, still glaring, but there’s no real anger (well, some, because John is an insane pilot). He can see how good this has been for John, how much this gift meant. “I am never flying with you again!”
And then John kisses him.
It takes Rodney by such surprise that at first he isn’t really sure what was going on. Then John really gets into it, and Rodney finds a tongue in his mouth and god, suction, and it’s been so long, since before Daniel took over. And it’s good, really good. And he hates to break it, but he has to. With reluctance, he pushes John away, gasping a little as he tries to get enough air again.
John speaks before he can. “Thanks, Rodney.” The tone is whispered, reserved, and Rodney just knew this would be the perfect gift for John.
“That wasn’t…you don’t have to-”
“You let me see the world, McKay.” John moves closer, rubbing his hands up and down Rodney’s arms. “You let me fly again…god, Rodney. This…you have no idea how much this means-”
“I have some,” is all Rodney can whisper, because he does. If anyone took away his science, the technology he gets to play with… “But this,” he glances at the 302, “it wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to-”
“I want to.” John leans forward, kissing him briefly on his cheek. “I want…Rodney, please. Let me…”
And if Rodney were a bigger man, he could refuse this, could see that maybe this was just the endorphins from the flight. But Rodney, while practical (and secretive) is also only human. John is gorgeous, and the temptation is too much. “Okay,” he agrees as he pushes John against the hull of the craft. “Okay.”
~*( Part 2)*~