Humor, Week 2: Paranoia
Title: Paranoia
Author: x_varda_x
Genre: Humour
Prompt Revenge is a dish best served cold
Word Count: 2500
Rating: PG
Warnings: Minor swearing
Summary: Rodney now knows for certain that someone’s trying to kill him.
A/N: Set in Season 3.
Rodney’s first knowledge that someone was trying to kill him came from a snatch of conversation he overheard while passing what he thought was an abandoned lab one morning.
"We're doing it in two days," a man said. "He’ll never know it’s coming, but we have to be ready."
A female voice replied, "The arrogant asshole won’t know what hit him!"
Rodney quickly turned about and dashed back along the corridor silently. They couldn’t have been talking about him, right? Half the scientists on Atlantis were arrogant assholes - that’s why McKay was in charge. Only the most arrogant and asshole-ish of them all could keep the others in line.
He dismissed the incident and went back to the main labs a different way.
----------
Later that day, Rodney was going through the shared drives trying to purge the old, useless files, when he accidentally hacked into one of his colleague’s email accounts. He closed his eyes and was just about to click away when his own name caught his eye. It was the title of an email marked as urgent and he frowned as he clicked on it. If it was about him, then surely he had a right to know?
The messages were between a botanist to an engineer and read:-
I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time he gets what he deserves.
Rodney’s eyes widened as he read the reply:-
We’ll show him exactly how we feel about him.
Most chilling of all were the last words at the end of the short exchange:-
Two days.
Rodney closed the window on the screen and glanced around the lab, expecting a knife to plunge into his back at any moment. He took a few shaky breaths, but nothing horrible happened and his co-workers carried on like nothing was wrong - like none of them were plotting behind his back to kill Rodney him.
He went back to staring at the archives, but his heart wasn't in it any more.
Was he brave enough to tell John about this? He tried to imagine what he’d say: "Oh, hi, Sheppard. I was just reading through my co-worker’s private emails when I discovered that they want to kill me. How are you today?"
That’d go down well.
He’d had a few death threats in the past, harmless stuff. Rodney knew he had a knack of rubbing at least one person up the wrong way wherever he went, but not usually four or more people. Then again, he’d been on Atlantis for three years, they probably had a ‘Let’s Get Together and Kill McKay’ club with a thriving membership by now.
He struggled to put it to the back of his mind as the paranoia made his thoughts turn darker. He made a mental note to locate the spare tac vest he kept in his quarters - the one he had in case he was ever late for a mission.
----------
Rodney was startled awake, facedown on a desk in the science lab at 6am the next day. He could hear shouting and stamping out in the corridor and peeled the sticky notes and pieces of paper off his face, stood up with a wince and cautiously approached the door to find out what the ruckus was.
His pulse sped up in fright and he rubbed his eyes tiredly as a large group of jogging men met his sight and he stood back and hid in the lab until they’d passed. But their shouted words were loud and clear and curiosity made him jog a way back and listen.
"We are friendly, we are mean.
We are the Lantean marines.
"Big bugs, arrows, guns and Wraith
Keep the scientists nice and safe.
"With an oh ah, Puddle Jumper Bay
And a one two three, chase after McKay..."
"Meep!" Rodney squeaked manfully. He’d heard more than enough and the crowd of testosterone and muscle soon outran him until their chanting echoed so much he could no longer hear it.
He leant forwards and got his breath back as the cold sweat mingled with the exertion. "Is there anyone not trying to kill me?" he gasped.
----------
Rodney returned to his quarters and showered. He found the tac vest and set about it with a pair of sharp scissors and an thread unpicker from his sewing kit. His nimble fingers could darn a mean sock-hole, but today he used the items to remove the bulky pockets until he had just the Kevlar stab-proof part.
He wrapped the fashionable garment around his bare torso and did it up as tightly as he could. There were strategic gaps in it, and he knew a well placed or a heavy strike could still get through it. But he doubted his many murderous underlings would be expecting him to be kitted out like so.
He selected a baggy t-shirt, pulled it over his head and studied himself in the mirror. There were unusual shapes showing through the material, but when he slipped the jacket over the top, he looked almost normal.
He walked stiffly and had trouble catching his breath with the ultra-tight protective corset on, but it was better than a knifing.
----------
"You putting on weight, McKay?" John asked when they crossed paths in a corridor and he backpedalled to do a double-take.
Rodney put his head down and mumbled, "No."
John was insistent though and came over and prodded Rodney’s chest with a frown. He poked harder and Rodney patted his hands away.
John narrowed his eyes and asked, "What have you got under there, another experiment?"
Rodney sighed in relief and took the proffered excuse, "Yes. It’s a device that wraps around a person and protects them. I can hardly feel it."
John raised his eyebrows, "Cool. Well, let me know how that goes. I’ll see you later."
Rodney inhaled as deep a breath as he could and went back to the labs to keep working at the desk he’d set up facing outwards. There was nothing behind him and he felt a little bit safer in that no one could sneak up and attack without his knowledge.
----------
Rodney’s midnight plan to secure himself a sidearm or ten for protection from everyone was quickly scuppered by the man standing outside the armoury. The mountainous standing slab of muscle looked like he’d never seen the outside of the gym other than to stop Rodney’s access to the armoury that night.
Most unnerving of all was that he was not only twice the size of Rodney but he winked at Rodney knowingly before he left.
Rodney ran the rest of the way back to his quarters and sealed himself in. He pulled the power cords from the walls so that no-one could open the door without a blowtorch. He clutched his chest where his heart was pounding, partly from the run, but mostly in overwhelming terror.
He shoved a few chairs and the table in front of the door for good measure and barricaded himself inside before collapsing down on the bed.
He hardly slept a wink.
-----------
John caught up with Rodney in the mess hall the next day when he’d finally ventured out of his protective fortress.
"Hey, McKay," John said as he slid his tray down next to Rodney’s.
Rodney glanced up briefly and then carried on hacking into emails on his tablet. "Hmm." They were tricky to get into, as most of his staff were adept programmers, not far shy of Rodney’s considerable skills. It took time, but it wasn’t impossible.
"What you up to?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Really?" John shoved a mouthful of cereal into his mouth. "Because a little bird told me you tried to get into the armoury last night."
Rodney snorted and stopped typing, "I’d hardly call that beefcake ‘little.’"
"His name’s Sergeant Rogers. And," John leant in and lowered his voice, "I heard that he still sleeps with his teddy bear."
Rodney’s blinked and trembled. He was so dead if the scariest marine on Atlantis was already a basket case.
"What were you doing, Rodney?"
"Nothing at all, just trying to return a gun I forgot to after a mission." The lie slipped out easily.
John raised his eyebrows for a moment and then shook his head and went back to eating.
Whether he’d bought the lie or not, Rodney wasn’t sure, and certainly wasn’t going to push it. Rodney stood up and grabbed his tablet, "Well, I’ve got lots of work to do. See you later."
John caught Rodney’s wrist in a bruising grip before he stepped out of range and Rodney held his breath. John asked, "Are you around tonight?"
Rodney frowned, "Yes." Although he’d intended on doing the barricade trick again to hide from the killers around him who intended to strike at some point today to end his life. No doubt, when his end came, it would be in the most horrific and painful way possible.
"Good. I’ll be waiting for you."
Rodney wrenched his hand away and nodded numbly.
Not John as well!
He was never going to survive the end of the day.
----------
Rodney had no choice but to return to the lab after many many radio calls. Even Carson called him to make sure he was alright, because if he was ill, the loyal, but oft times prying doctor said he’d need to be checked out.
Rodney couldn’t help but read more into Carson’s words. He seemed pushier than usual, like it wasn’t just Rodney’s health that was concerning, but rather Rodney’s being available and accessible to be ended by them all at some point during that day.
Rodney left the tac vest behind today. He’d only just got the circulation back in his arms, and if he was going to get murdered, he wasn’t going to be a coward about it. Hiding in his room was just as good as being a scared wimp, so he held his head up high as he stepped into the lab.
The moment he entered the room, there was a heavy blow between his shoulder blades, making Rodney all but jump out of his skin. He gritted his teeth waiting for the pain of the knife sticking out of his back to reach his brain.
When nothing happened, he turned around and found Ronon glaring at him. "Thanks for fixing the lights in the gym, McKay."
Rodney swallowed nervously and could only see insincerity and lies in Ronon’s smile and eyes. "Sure, uh, anytime."
Rodney settled down in his chair and began a day of surreptitious glances, paranoia and lonely despair while he waited for his time to come.
He saw more emails and overheard quickly hushed excited conversations.
"That’s right," he thought. "Laugh it up. One of you will soon be in charge instead of me. Let’s see how you like it when I’m gone."
----------
Rodney was slightly confused when his laptop clock hit 7pm and he was still alive. Most of the scientists had gone, and Zelenka bade him good evening and left him alone.
Rodney hummed and sighed. He had less than five hours left to live.
His radio suddenly buzzed, making his nearly fall out of his chair. "Sheppard to McKay."
"Uh, what?"
"I thought I arranged to meet you in the mess for dinner?"
"I don’t remember that."
"Well, I did. So get up here on the double or I’ll send Teyla to drag your sorry ass up here."
Rodney swallowed and replied shakily, "I’ll be right there."
The mess hall was the one place where he was the most vulnerable and exposed - surrounded on all sides by killers and madmen who’d been none too subtly plotting his demise for days now.
But if he was to meet his death this day, he’d do it like a man. He stood up and smoothed down his crumpled uniform and headed to the nearest transporter.
----------
Rodney was trying to control his trembling hands when he reached the mess hall corridor and was greeted by a darkened doorway. The room beyond was completely black too, and totally silent. Although he thought he heard the whisper of a breeze, he quickly dismissed it as his unsound mind playing tricks on him.
Rodney didn't want to get too close in case something was lurking on the threshold, so stayed part way down the corridor.
He tapped his radio, "McKay to Zelenka?"
A quiet voice answered, "Yes, Rodney?"
"Is there a power problem in the mess hall?"
"No. But if you like I can check it for you."
"No no. That’s okay. I’ll do it."
Rodney pulled a panel off the wall opposite the door and felt the back of his neck prickling. He spun around with a quick intake of breath in panic.
There was no-one there. But he couldn’t help the feeling that someone was watching him. No doubt whoever it was was about to shoot him or perhaps use a knife to gut him like a fish.
He prodded at the control panel, but couldn’t find anything wrong with it.
He went over to the dark doorway leading into the mess hall and pulled a penlight from his pocket, steeling himself to enter the void-like darkness and activate the lights himself.
He stepped through the door and the lights shot up to maximum, not only blinding him, but giving him a flash of many faces peering back at him.
They shouted, "Surprise!"
And Rodney collapsed in mortal terror.
----------
Voices floated down to Rodney while he drifted.
"Is he okay, doc?"
"Aye, heart rate and blood pressure are a bit high. Has he been under a lot of stress lately?"
"Not as far as I know."
A small hand grasped his and squeezed and he returned the gesture. A female voice he recognised as Teyla’s entered his ears, "Rodney? Are you alright?"
He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on his side in the recovery position. A short distance away there were many pairs of feet and the sound of nervous chatter like buzzing insects. "I’m still alive?" he asked sheepishly.
John and Carson helped him sit up.
"I am?"
Rodney glanced around the room as he was slowly pulled to his feet, Carson all the while saying, "Easy, easy, not too fast."
Rodney blinked and looked around the mess hall. It was brightly decorated with streamers across the ceiling and party hats on the tables. Balloons were tied up on the walls and glitter trails hung down from the ceiling. Savoury snacks were lined up on a table, along with trifle and muffins and many and varied Pegasus Galaxy delights Rodney had yet to sample.
Rodney blinked and frowned. "I, uh, what’s going on?"
John smiled, "Are you saying we need to have an excuse to celebrate?"
"To this extent, definitely."
"Well we have one." John stood back and the gathered crowd parted to reveal the banner strung up.
It read: Happy Birthday Rodney!
Rodney nearly collapsed again. He said quietly, "You know, I’d got so wrapped up in work and well adjusted to Lantean time, I hadn’t even noticed."
Teyla smiled at him, "We would not forget, and we have been planning this event for many days."
Rodney coughed and said, "I know. But I thought you were trying to kill me!"
Several people laughed nervously and John quickly guided Rodney into the crowd and let the party get started.
Author: x_varda_x
Genre: Humour
Prompt Revenge is a dish best served cold
Word Count: 2500
Rating: PG
Warnings: Minor swearing
Summary: Rodney now knows for certain that someone’s trying to kill him.
A/N: Set in Season 3.
Rodney’s first knowledge that someone was trying to kill him came from a snatch of conversation he overheard while passing what he thought was an abandoned lab one morning.
"We're doing it in two days," a man said. "He’ll never know it’s coming, but we have to be ready."
A female voice replied, "The arrogant asshole won’t know what hit him!"
Rodney quickly turned about and dashed back along the corridor silently. They couldn’t have been talking about him, right? Half the scientists on Atlantis were arrogant assholes - that’s why McKay was in charge. Only the most arrogant and asshole-ish of them all could keep the others in line.
He dismissed the incident and went back to the main labs a different way.
----------
Later that day, Rodney was going through the shared drives trying to purge the old, useless files, when he accidentally hacked into one of his colleague’s email accounts. He closed his eyes and was just about to click away when his own name caught his eye. It was the title of an email marked as urgent and he frowned as he clicked on it. If it was about him, then surely he had a right to know?
The messages were between a botanist to an engineer and read:-
I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time he gets what he deserves.
Rodney’s eyes widened as he read the reply:-
We’ll show him exactly how we feel about him.
Most chilling of all were the last words at the end of the short exchange:-
Two days.
Rodney closed the window on the screen and glanced around the lab, expecting a knife to plunge into his back at any moment. He took a few shaky breaths, but nothing horrible happened and his co-workers carried on like nothing was wrong - like none of them were plotting behind his back to kill Rodney him.
He went back to staring at the archives, but his heart wasn't in it any more.
Was he brave enough to tell John about this? He tried to imagine what he’d say: "Oh, hi, Sheppard. I was just reading through my co-worker’s private emails when I discovered that they want to kill me. How are you today?"
That’d go down well.
He’d had a few death threats in the past, harmless stuff. Rodney knew he had a knack of rubbing at least one person up the wrong way wherever he went, but not usually four or more people. Then again, he’d been on Atlantis for three years, they probably had a ‘Let’s Get Together and Kill McKay’ club with a thriving membership by now.
He struggled to put it to the back of his mind as the paranoia made his thoughts turn darker. He made a mental note to locate the spare tac vest he kept in his quarters - the one he had in case he was ever late for a mission.
----------
Rodney was startled awake, facedown on a desk in the science lab at 6am the next day. He could hear shouting and stamping out in the corridor and peeled the sticky notes and pieces of paper off his face, stood up with a wince and cautiously approached the door to find out what the ruckus was.
His pulse sped up in fright and he rubbed his eyes tiredly as a large group of jogging men met his sight and he stood back and hid in the lab until they’d passed. But their shouted words were loud and clear and curiosity made him jog a way back and listen.
"We are friendly, we are mean.
We are the Lantean marines.
"Big bugs, arrows, guns and Wraith
Keep the scientists nice and safe.
"With an oh ah, Puddle Jumper Bay
And a one two three, chase after McKay..."
"Meep!" Rodney squeaked manfully. He’d heard more than enough and the crowd of testosterone and muscle soon outran him until their chanting echoed so much he could no longer hear it.
He leant forwards and got his breath back as the cold sweat mingled with the exertion. "Is there anyone not trying to kill me?" he gasped.
----------
Rodney returned to his quarters and showered. He found the tac vest and set about it with a pair of sharp scissors and an thread unpicker from his sewing kit. His nimble fingers could darn a mean sock-hole, but today he used the items to remove the bulky pockets until he had just the Kevlar stab-proof part.
He wrapped the fashionable garment around his bare torso and did it up as tightly as he could. There were strategic gaps in it, and he knew a well placed or a heavy strike could still get through it. But he doubted his many murderous underlings would be expecting him to be kitted out like so.
He selected a baggy t-shirt, pulled it over his head and studied himself in the mirror. There were unusual shapes showing through the material, but when he slipped the jacket over the top, he looked almost normal.
He walked stiffly and had trouble catching his breath with the ultra-tight protective corset on, but it was better than a knifing.
----------
"You putting on weight, McKay?" John asked when they crossed paths in a corridor and he backpedalled to do a double-take.
Rodney put his head down and mumbled, "No."
John was insistent though and came over and prodded Rodney’s chest with a frown. He poked harder and Rodney patted his hands away.
John narrowed his eyes and asked, "What have you got under there, another experiment?"
Rodney sighed in relief and took the proffered excuse, "Yes. It’s a device that wraps around a person and protects them. I can hardly feel it."
John raised his eyebrows, "Cool. Well, let me know how that goes. I’ll see you later."
Rodney inhaled as deep a breath as he could and went back to the labs to keep working at the desk he’d set up facing outwards. There was nothing behind him and he felt a little bit safer in that no one could sneak up and attack without his knowledge.
----------
Rodney’s midnight plan to secure himself a sidearm or ten for protection from everyone was quickly scuppered by the man standing outside the armoury. The mountainous standing slab of muscle looked like he’d never seen the outside of the gym other than to stop Rodney’s access to the armoury that night.
Most unnerving of all was that he was not only twice the size of Rodney but he winked at Rodney knowingly before he left.
Rodney ran the rest of the way back to his quarters and sealed himself in. He pulled the power cords from the walls so that no-one could open the door without a blowtorch. He clutched his chest where his heart was pounding, partly from the run, but mostly in overwhelming terror.
He shoved a few chairs and the table in front of the door for good measure and barricaded himself inside before collapsing down on the bed.
He hardly slept a wink.
-----------
John caught up with Rodney in the mess hall the next day when he’d finally ventured out of his protective fortress.
"Hey, McKay," John said as he slid his tray down next to Rodney’s.
Rodney glanced up briefly and then carried on hacking into emails on his tablet. "Hmm." They were tricky to get into, as most of his staff were adept programmers, not far shy of Rodney’s considerable skills. It took time, but it wasn’t impossible.
"What you up to?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Really?" John shoved a mouthful of cereal into his mouth. "Because a little bird told me you tried to get into the armoury last night."
Rodney snorted and stopped typing, "I’d hardly call that beefcake ‘little.’"
"His name’s Sergeant Rogers. And," John leant in and lowered his voice, "I heard that he still sleeps with his teddy bear."
Rodney’s blinked and trembled. He was so dead if the scariest marine on Atlantis was already a basket case.
"What were you doing, Rodney?"
"Nothing at all, just trying to return a gun I forgot to after a mission." The lie slipped out easily.
John raised his eyebrows for a moment and then shook his head and went back to eating.
Whether he’d bought the lie or not, Rodney wasn’t sure, and certainly wasn’t going to push it. Rodney stood up and grabbed his tablet, "Well, I’ve got lots of work to do. See you later."
John caught Rodney’s wrist in a bruising grip before he stepped out of range and Rodney held his breath. John asked, "Are you around tonight?"
Rodney frowned, "Yes." Although he’d intended on doing the barricade trick again to hide from the killers around him who intended to strike at some point today to end his life. No doubt, when his end came, it would be in the most horrific and painful way possible.
"Good. I’ll be waiting for you."
Rodney wrenched his hand away and nodded numbly.
Not John as well!
He was never going to survive the end of the day.
----------
Rodney had no choice but to return to the lab after many many radio calls. Even Carson called him to make sure he was alright, because if he was ill, the loyal, but oft times prying doctor said he’d need to be checked out.
Rodney couldn’t help but read more into Carson’s words. He seemed pushier than usual, like it wasn’t just Rodney’s health that was concerning, but rather Rodney’s being available and accessible to be ended by them all at some point during that day.
Rodney left the tac vest behind today. He’d only just got the circulation back in his arms, and if he was going to get murdered, he wasn’t going to be a coward about it. Hiding in his room was just as good as being a scared wimp, so he held his head up high as he stepped into the lab.
The moment he entered the room, there was a heavy blow between his shoulder blades, making Rodney all but jump out of his skin. He gritted his teeth waiting for the pain of the knife sticking out of his back to reach his brain.
When nothing happened, he turned around and found Ronon glaring at him. "Thanks for fixing the lights in the gym, McKay."
Rodney swallowed nervously and could only see insincerity and lies in Ronon’s smile and eyes. "Sure, uh, anytime."
Rodney settled down in his chair and began a day of surreptitious glances, paranoia and lonely despair while he waited for his time to come.
He saw more emails and overheard quickly hushed excited conversations.
"That’s right," he thought. "Laugh it up. One of you will soon be in charge instead of me. Let’s see how you like it when I’m gone."
----------
Rodney was slightly confused when his laptop clock hit 7pm and he was still alive. Most of the scientists had gone, and Zelenka bade him good evening and left him alone.
Rodney hummed and sighed. He had less than five hours left to live.
His radio suddenly buzzed, making his nearly fall out of his chair. "Sheppard to McKay."
"Uh, what?"
"I thought I arranged to meet you in the mess for dinner?"
"I don’t remember that."
"Well, I did. So get up here on the double or I’ll send Teyla to drag your sorry ass up here."
Rodney swallowed and replied shakily, "I’ll be right there."
The mess hall was the one place where he was the most vulnerable and exposed - surrounded on all sides by killers and madmen who’d been none too subtly plotting his demise for days now.
But if he was to meet his death this day, he’d do it like a man. He stood up and smoothed down his crumpled uniform and headed to the nearest transporter.
----------
Rodney was trying to control his trembling hands when he reached the mess hall corridor and was greeted by a darkened doorway. The room beyond was completely black too, and totally silent. Although he thought he heard the whisper of a breeze, he quickly dismissed it as his unsound mind playing tricks on him.
Rodney didn't want to get too close in case something was lurking on the threshold, so stayed part way down the corridor.
He tapped his radio, "McKay to Zelenka?"
A quiet voice answered, "Yes, Rodney?"
"Is there a power problem in the mess hall?"
"No. But if you like I can check it for you."
"No no. That’s okay. I’ll do it."
Rodney pulled a panel off the wall opposite the door and felt the back of his neck prickling. He spun around with a quick intake of breath in panic.
There was no-one there. But he couldn’t help the feeling that someone was watching him. No doubt whoever it was was about to shoot him or perhaps use a knife to gut him like a fish.
He prodded at the control panel, but couldn’t find anything wrong with it.
He went over to the dark doorway leading into the mess hall and pulled a penlight from his pocket, steeling himself to enter the void-like darkness and activate the lights himself.
He stepped through the door and the lights shot up to maximum, not only blinding him, but giving him a flash of many faces peering back at him.
They shouted, "Surprise!"
And Rodney collapsed in mortal terror.
----------
Voices floated down to Rodney while he drifted.
"Is he okay, doc?"
"Aye, heart rate and blood pressure are a bit high. Has he been under a lot of stress lately?"
"Not as far as I know."
A small hand grasped his and squeezed and he returned the gesture. A female voice he recognised as Teyla’s entered his ears, "Rodney? Are you alright?"
He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on his side in the recovery position. A short distance away there were many pairs of feet and the sound of nervous chatter like buzzing insects. "I’m still alive?" he asked sheepishly.
John and Carson helped him sit up.
"I am?"
Rodney glanced around the room as he was slowly pulled to his feet, Carson all the while saying, "Easy, easy, not too fast."
Rodney blinked and looked around the mess hall. It was brightly decorated with streamers across the ceiling and party hats on the tables. Balloons were tied up on the walls and glitter trails hung down from the ceiling. Savoury snacks were lined up on a table, along with trifle and muffins and many and varied Pegasus Galaxy delights Rodney had yet to sample.
Rodney blinked and frowned. "I, uh, what’s going on?"
John smiled, "Are you saying we need to have an excuse to celebrate?"
"To this extent, definitely."
"Well we have one." John stood back and the gathered crowd parted to reveal the banner strung up.
It read: Happy Birthday Rodney!
Rodney nearly collapsed again. He said quietly, "You know, I’d got so wrapped up in work and well adjusted to Lantean time, I hadn’t even noticed."
Teyla smiled at him, "We would not forget, and we have been planning this event for many days."
Rodney coughed and said, "I know. But I thought you were trying to kill me!"
Several people laughed nervously and John quickly guided Rodney into the crowd and let the party get started.