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piploverI have my Anthropology final tomorrow. MEEP! So what am I doing instead of studying? That's right, finishing up a story that has languished for...well, a very long time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.
When Cats Purr
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Pairing: Very mild McShep
Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue.
Summary: Sometimes in life, the only things we can hold onto are the things we've already lost.
Rodney McKay had always been a cat person. From the time he had been
introduced to his first kitten at the age of three, he had found a
unique bond with the animals that he had rarely encountered with any
other living being.
They were independent creatures not needing to coddle, yet were always
there when he did. He could hold them when his world seemed too big,
and know that at least something in his life loved him.
Even in Siberia, he had managed to find himself the dubious owner of a
squat-faced monster the other members of his team had nicknamed Catsquach.
He had loved that feline with a single minded devotion unmatched by
anything in his life save for his passion for physics.
Only once had he heard snickers behind his back after calling her his
little snuggle-wuggle. A day without warm water later and the other
scientists quickly found themselves lavishing the fur-snarled wretch
with tidbits from their dinners.
He had hoped to bring her back with him when he left, but she had
fallen ill and died shortly before he was transferred. That night he
had found a picture of himself, sound asleep, with her curled around
his shoulders on his pillow. He still carried it with him in his
inner coat pocket.
Now, sitting on his bed years later in a different galaxy, he found
himself staring fondly at the wrinkled photo, gently caressing the
square, boxish face.
Chewchew had been next, a small tabby with brown and black splotches
that had nipped at his toes and left mice on his bed. He kept her
picture by his bedside.
Then had come Simone, his last cat in the Milky Way, currently
residing with his model neighbor. Her picture was under his keyboard
in his lab.
Sighing deeply, he found himself curled up on his bed, knees tucked up
to his chest as he gazed for a moment longer at the picture clutched
tightly in his grip.
Perhaps the one thing Rodney McKay loved about his cats the most was
the fact that they had all purred when they were in pain.
Something he could understand only too well.
***
He awoke to the steady pounding on his door, drawing him out of the first sound sleep he had experienced in almost a week. Groggily he stood, realizing distantly that he was still wearing his uniform from yesterday.
“I’m coming!” he bellowed, growling as he stumbled over one of his boots he vaguely remembered kicking off last night.
When he opened the door he was unsurprised to see Sheppard standing on the other side, looking rested and disgustingly put together.
“What?” Rodney demanded, not bothering to hide his irritation.
“My, aren’t you the cheerful one this morning,” Sheppard grinned, his mouth quirked in the smug smile he seemed to reserve for McKay alone. “Since you weren’t answering your radio, Dr. Weir sent me to find you.”
“Did she say why?” Rodney asked, suddenly much more awake then he had been. He scrambled around his room in the hopeful search for a clean shirt, glowering when Sheppard walked in without asking.
“Nope. But Dr. Z was talking a mile a minute and waving his hands around like a madman, which, with that hair, really highlights the Dr. Frankenstein look. Anyway, they want you in the control room ASAP.”
“Fine, fine, give me a few minutes,” Rodney ordered, disappearing into the bathroom with his clean clothes to take care of business and attempt to freshen up. When he came back out five minutes later, he was shaved, his mouth tasting faintly of toothpaste, and his clothes no longer smelling like he had wrestled a Wraith in them.
Sheppard raised his eyebrow without a word, opened the door and gestured for the scientist to precede him.
“Do you have any idea what it is they found?” McKay asked, his long strides taking him to the nearest transporter.
“I thought I already told you no,” Sheppard sighed, giving Rodney his raised eyebrow once more.
“Well, since you seemed so full of inane questions yesterday I thought I would level the playing field,” Rodney snapped, running a hand over his face to erase the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes.
“Inane questions?” Sheppard repeated.
“Yes, I know, it’s rather pointless of me to try and catch up since you’re so far ahead,” Rodney muttered, leaving the transporter and a frowning Sheppard as he made his way to Weir’s office.
He had barely made it up the steps before Zelenka ran up to him, smelling of sweat and coffee and with dark circles under his eyes.
“Good, good you are here!” he greeted, grabbing Rodney’s arm and dragging him into the office where an amused Weir watched from behind her desk. “While you get your beauty sleep, I was going over information you picked up from the pods. I found this!”
A data pad was thrust under Rodney’s nose, Zelenka still talking as he walked over to the coffee machine and poured two cups.
“This is amazing! Do you realize what this could mean? If we can modify the stasis chamber, now that we have the new ZedPM we can see if we can –“
“Yes, yes!” Rodney exclaimed, his eyes scanning the information before him even as he absently took the cup offered. “If we can program the interface to the data from the ship –“
“We may be able to do this!” Zelenka finished, bouncing on his toes and grinning.
“Would someone like to clue me in on the big find?” Sheppard asked, raising his hand to get the scientists’ attention.
“To put it simply, Major, we may be able to download the virtual setting from the ship into the stasis chamber on Atlantis. There may be residual information there we can access!” Rodney explained, not raising his eyes from the pad.
“Colonel,” Sheppard hissed, then frowned. “Wait a minute. Are you saying we could recreate the Aurora?”
“In limited conditions, possibly!” Zelenka agreed, nodding until he looked like a mad scientist bobble head.
“Elizabeth?” McKay asked, looking up just long enough to see Weir’s nod before grabbing Zelenka’s arm and sidestepping Sheppard, his attention already focused on the schematics in his head.
“Think they’ll manage it?” Sheppard asked, watching the two men stumble on the last step and nearly collide with a distracted tech.
“If anyone can, it will be them,” Weir sighed.
***
“Yes, yes, yes!” Rodney yelled, his eyes riveted to the screen before him. “Do that again, whatever you just did!”
A moment later the stasis chamber before them began to hum, green and blue lights twinkling in synchronized patterns.
“Yes!” Zelenka crowed, adjusting the power output until the humming was joined by a deep vibration. “Outputs are at maximum, and all systems are green!” he reported. “According to simulation, it is ready.”
“Right,” Rodney sighed, rubbing his hands together as he gazed at the pod before him with the slightest trace of worry tingeing his excitement.
He toggled the radio in his ear. “Elizabeth? We’re ready to try this.”
“Hold on, Rodney,” Weir’s voice cautioned, tiny in his ear yet firm. “I want Colonel Sheppard and Becket there in case anything happens.”
“Nothing is going to happen!” Rodney protested, glaring at the wall as his temper flared. “We have run three simulations, and each of them shows an increase in the output generated by the pod. Basically, the signal becomes more stable each time we run it,” he added, knowing Sheppard was listening.
“I still want to be there when you try this, Rodney,” Weir replied. “We’ll be there in three minutes.”
Rodney looked over to Zelenka, pleased to see a scowl on the other man’s face.
“They still don’t trust me,” Rodney muttered, more to himself than to the other as he started to pace.
Zelenka heard him and sighed, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what to tell his friend. He had forgiven McKay almost immediately after the man had apologized, knowing full well the passion that had driven his friend, and the blindness that all too often infected even the most reserved scientists.
Weir and Sheppard, on the other hand, still seemed to be coming to terms with the fact that their chief scientist was not infallible, and Zelenka knew that bothered his friend more than McKay would ever admit.
A moment later and the doors opened, admitting Sheppard, Beckett and Weir, the three of them eyeing the pod with more trepidation than Rodney thought was warranted.
“Good, you’re all here, can we please get started before the next millennium? Please?” Rodney snapped, moving over to the pod and triggering the hatch open.
“Wait a minute, McKay,” Sheppard said, moving to stand in front of the pod. “How certain are you this thing is safe?”
“Is fine, Colonel!” Zelenka snapped, earning surprised looks from the three newcomers. A flush redden his cheeks, but he continued. “Is the same technology as was used on ship, we have run simulations, and even added a failsafe. It will be almost the same as when you were on the Aurora.”
“Yes, yes, what he said!” Rodney agreed. “So, if you don’t mind…”
“You’ll be able to pull yourself out at any time?” Weir asked, her gaze fixed on the pod with a kind of horrified fascination which no one could blame her for.
“Yes,” Rodney groaned, stomping his foot as he continued. “And if anything happens Zelenka will be monitoring me from out here and be able to pull me out if he thinks there is anything wrong. But nothing is going to happen, so can we please get on with this?”
“Why don’t you let me go first, McKay?” Sheppard asked, turning a skeptical glance to the other. “That way if anything goes wrong, both of you will be out here.”
For a moment McKay stared at Sheppard, his cheeks flushing.
“You still don’t trust me,” he murmured, and the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. “But this isn’t some unknown ship, Colonel. I assure you, Atlantis is perfectly safe, and so am I.”
Without waiting for further comments, knowing the other man was about to protest, Rodney stepped into the pod, nodding to Zelenka.
“Do it,” he ordered, ignoring Weir and Beckett’s protests and the corner of his mouth turning up as Sheppard’s reaching arm was prevented from grabbing him by the pod closing.
Then everything went dark.
***
He was surrounded by warmth, a feeling very much like being wrapped in a towel just pulled from the dryer. For a long moment he reveled in the sensation, keeping his eyes closed and allowing his body to soak up the wonderful heat.
Then a tongue rasped against his cheek, and McKay found himself jerking upright, staring at the creature looking up at him in fearful wonder, unable to take in his surroundings as his brain processed what it was seeing.
“C-Catsquach?” he whispered, staring at the boxish face and matted fur in wonder.
The cat staring up at him mewled, butting her head against his hand in a gesture so familiar Rodney felt his heart break.
“Chyoodny,” he whispered, burying his face into the warm fur, inhaling the scent of stale cat food and dirt.
He had never understood why the other scientists had nicknamed her Catsquach. She may have been worn around the edges, and certainly she hissed if anyone tried to take her food or pet her when she wasn’t in the mood to be petted, but to him, she was always Chyoodny – Lovely.
For a long moment he simply enjoyed the feel of her unique fur against his fingers, her gentle purr easing a tension in his shoulders he had not even been aware of.
“How – how did you get here?” he whispered, staring lovingly into giant yellow eyes that blinked contently, rubbing the ridge above her nose absently as he finally took in the room.
He was in a bedroom, similar to the ones in Atlantis if a bit smaller. The bed he lay on was softer even than his own, and the blankets that bunched around his waist felt like a cross between a down comforter and a silk throw.
There were no pictures on the walls, no furniture besides an empty desk and a chair that looked well used. A panel on the wall glowed a faint blue, the only light in the room.
“Where am I?” he whispered, cradling the purring feline close to his chest as he stood, realizing that once more he was wearing the uniform from the Aurora, sans shoes.
He padded over to the panel on the wall, hesitating only a moment when the glow became brighter at his approach. When he was only a foot away, the panel opened with a hiss, revealing a screen similar to the ones that generated projections in the lab.
Chyoodny mewled softly, her eyes fixed on the screen, and a moment later a figure appeared in the center of his room, glowing softly.
She had golden hair that hung about her form like a halo, wisps floating in a breeze that did not touch Rodney. Her gown was dark blue, reaching to her feet in folds of cloth that whispered as she turned brilliant green eyes on the scientist. The gown only had one shoulder, toga style, gauzy material flowing about her arm in veil-like strips.
Her skin was creamy and smooth, perfect in the dim light, and she reminded Rodney of a Roman Goddess.
“Who – who are you? Where am I?” he demanded, though his tone came out breathy and shaking. “This isn’t the Aurora.”
“Not exactly, no. This is a virtual environment, created to help crewmembers maintain brain function while in stasis.”
Her voice was soft, with a slight accent that reminded him of Miko’s.
“I am a guide, to help you in whatever function you would like.” She smiled gently at him, a promise of things she could do for him…and to him. “A companion, to answer any questions and provide guidance.”
A movement from the doorway caught his attention, his breath stuttering in his chest as Chewchew meandered into the room, weaving about his legs in her typical greeting.
It was too much, and Rodney found himself gasping for breath, stumbling out of the pod to land on his knees, his arms trembling as he fought to keep from collapsing.
“Rodney?”
“What happened?”
“Is he all right?”
The voices merged together into so much noise, and with a shuddering gasp he found himself lurching to his feet, stumbling away from arms that sought to steady him, shaking his head in denial, eyes squinted tightly shut.
“Rodney!” Beckett said firmly, his hands gripping Rodney’s shoulders and forcing the other to stand still. “What happened, lad? What went wrong?”
McKay shook his head, realizing his cheeks were wet with tears and a small, whimpering sound was coming from the back of his throat.
“Rodney?” Sheppard asked, moving cautiously to his friend’s side.
Sinking to his knees despite Beckett’s firm grasp, he found himself shaking uncontrollably, a phantom scent of fur lingering on his shirt. He knew he was worrying the others, but as Carson injected something into his arm and darkness slowly faded his vision, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
***
Chyoodny had been found in one of the recently vacated resident huts, abandoned when her previous owner had been shipped back to civilization. The woman had left everything from her toothbrush to her closet full of clothes, leaving Siberia without a backward glance or care for the life she had taken responsibility for.
The guard who found her, following up on a report of strange sounds coming from the hut, had received eighteen stitches for his troubles. No one else attempted to get near her as she crouched in the corner of the infirmary, eyeing all those around her warily with sharp, steady eyes.
On a post so small and enclosed word traveled fast, and fifteen minutes after the guard had been stitched up, nearly all the scientist and a good portion of the soldiers had wandered into the confined space to catch a look of the “demon cat.”
Anyone who attempted to stray too near received a hissed warning and a low growl for their trouble. Offers of raw meat were refused, and the one person who dared brute force had received a concussion after backpedaling so fast he rammed his head against a table.
Then Rodney had stormed in, furious to find the labs empty and the work seemingly paused for no apparent reason.
“Is there some plague running rampant I was unaware of?” he demanded, earning startled glances similar to the ones previously aimed at the cat. “Or have all of you suddenly dropped IQ points and decided that standing around like so many lemmings will improve your thought processes?”
The scientists fled, scattering like sheep set upon by a wolf, and the guards found themselves huddling close to their wounded member, unwilling to leave in the face of possibly seeing the most feared person in Siberia brought down by a cat.
Movement caught all their attention, and more than one set of eyes had widened in astonished horror as the matted and disreputable creature had made its slow way from under the table it had been hiding under.
“What have we here?” Rodney murmured, his tone suddenly much more subdued, body language shifting until even the doctors hovering about stared in wonder at the transformation from raging dictator to curious scientist.
Slowly lowering himself to the ground, legs stretched out to either side, Rodney had found himself crooning softly, ignoring the disbelieving stares he was receiving.
“Come here, kitty,” he murmured, patting his thigh gently. “Come here, I won’t hurt you.”
And she had come to him, hesitant and unwillingly trusting. He had made no move to touch her, allowing her to run the introduction, bumping him with her cold nose and then, more confidently, butting his hand with her head.
After that, she had been all his, following him around the living quarters, daintily eating the tidbits he offered from his fingers, and curling around him tightly in the odd hours he slept.
Never once did she scratch, bite, or hiss at him, saving those attentions for everyone else. After a month, everyone from the guards to the scientists were in complete agreement: the two were meant for each other.
***
He woke slowly, lazily, his brain hazy and his body feeling too heavy. Carson must have given him some of the good stuff.
“Rodney?”
“Gmmph,” he muttered, trying to shield his eyes from the penlight Beckett was shining in them, scowling up at his friend.
“Is Sleeping Beauty finally awake?” Sheppard’s voice asked a moment before the Colonel came into sight, face anxious behind the charming smile. “About time, McKay.”
“What happened? How long was I out?” Rodney asked thickly, his mouth feeling as though he had been sucking on cotton balls all night.
“What do you remember?” Beckett asked softly, shooting a sharp glance to Sheppard before turning his full attention back to the scientist.
“The pod,” Rodney murmured, the memories suddenly bright and clear as he sat up, grimacing as a wave of dizziness hit him.
“Easy, Rodney,” Beckett soothed, pushing him back down with an ease that was pathetic.
“What happened, McKay?” Sheppard demanded, moving so he was perched on the foot of the bed, hair sticking up at even odder angles than usual, his uniform rumpled as though he had been sleeping in it. “You shot out of that thing like a demon was chasing you.”
He could feel the flush make its way up his cheeks, couldn’t look the others in the face as embarrassment hit him full force.
“There was an - unexpected – situation,” he mumbled, turning his head away so he could avoid the confused glances. “I hadn’t – I wasn’t expecting certain things to be there. It startled me, that’s all.”
He hated how his voice trembled slightly, how his hand shook when he ran it through his hair.
“Rodney?” Sheppard asked, his tone making it clear that there was no way in hell the scientist was getting off without a complete explanation. “You scared the shit out of Dr. Z, and it wasn’t exactly a picnic for the rest of us, either. What kind of situation?” He paused, waiting for a response, and when none came, prompted, “Was it a Wraith?”
The fact that the situation had been so far removed from that suggestion earned a strangled laugh.
“No,” Rodney whispered, feeling his eyes prickle and hating himself for it. Hating the fact that the memory of Chyoodny’s fur against his hands, of Chewchew’s mewled greeting could bring him down so low when not even a sappy Christmas card from his sister had brought up a tenth of the emotions he was feeling now. “No, it wasn’t the Wraith. Just some – old friends – I never thought to see again.”
Friends that had seen him through his worst days, who had been there when no other living soul, including his sister, had cared about him. Friends who loved him unconditionally, without reserve, without judgment. Not because he was the smartest man they had met, or wanted something from him, but because he fed them, brushed them…and loved them unconditionally in return.
There was a long moment when the only sound was his harsh breathing and Sheppard’s suppressed sigh.
“Doc, could you leave us for a few minutes?”
The sound of the curtain moving, footsteps fading, and then John’s hand, warm and calloused and firm on his chin, turning his face so he was forced to look into hazel eyes that had seen too much.
“Talk to me, Rodney,” John prompted, sitting on the bed next to Rodney’s shoulder, his gaze unwavering. “What rattled you so much Carson had to sedate you? Zelenka picked up a few odd readings, but he said it was nothing unusual, nothing we should worry about. So what did we not worry about, Rodney, that we should have?”
Rodney took a deep breath, feeling it stutter in his chest.
“There was a woman,” he began, thinking back to the guide and her gentle, soft words. “She was a construct designed to help people put in stasis, to keep their brains active and stop them from freaking out when they realized what was happening.” He felt a gentle smile turn his lips. “She was beautiful.”
“You said you met up with some friends. Did she bring them to you?” Sheppard asked, his tone carefully neutral.
“No,” Rodney whispered, closing his eyes, almost able to feel once more the matted fur beneath his fingers, to smell the cat food. “They found me.”
“Who was it?” John prompted after the silence began to stretch. “Old girl friend?” Rodney snorted, casting an annoyed look to his friend. “An old boyfriend?” John tried again, this time his grin mischievous.
Rodney scowled, flicking the other man’s hand with his fingers.
“Please, Colonel,” he sighed, feeling suddenly very pathetic. “I haven’t had either for so long it’s not even worth mentioning.”
It could have been his imagination, but John seemed to relax slightly at that. “Then who was it? Come on, McKay, talk to me!” he prompted. “I had a houseful of dead friends on Fog World, I think I can understand.”
“Mcts,” Rodney mumbled, feeling his face heat even as he said the words, wondering how the other would react to finding out Rodney had freaked out over seeing his lost pets.
“What was that?” John asked, confused.
“My. Cats,” Rodney enunciated. “I saw my cats, all right? I just – I hadn’t been prepared for it and I freaked.”
He waited, expecting laughter or a snide remark. What he received was a gentle hand to his shoulder, and understanding hazel eyes that refused to let him turn away.
“It must have really shocked the shit out of you to get that reaction,” Sheppard murmured softly.
McKay nodded, his throat suddenly feeling thick. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he agreed.
The silence lengthened until his eyes began to droop, the steady rhythm of John’s breath as peaceful as Chyoodny’s purr had been.
“Get some more sleep, we’ll talk about this later,” Sheppard finally murmured.
Something brushed his forehead, there and then gone before he could register what it was, and then he was alone again. Blinking dazedly at Sheppard’s retreating back, he wondered what had just happened.
***
“Elizabeth, I’m telling you, it was perfectly safe! I freaked out, my fault, not the pods! There is nothing dangerous about this!” Rodney yelled, his voice having risen over the course of the past hour.
“Rodney!” Weir shouted, her tone cutting off further argument as she gazed firmly at the red faced scientist. She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she began to pace. “I don’t feel comfortable sending you back in there. Carson had to sedate you, for goodness sake, and I don’t care what you say, anything that rattles you that much just isn’t safe!”
“See, that’s the problem!” Rodney snapped, gesturing wildly with his hands. “We both know I have certain – neurotic – tendencies. This just happened to set one off, but I’m much better now, and when I go back in I’ll know what to expect! Elizabeth,” he added, softly, his eyes pleading now. “Think of all that we can gain from this! If I can get into one of the labs, the information that is saved there could be –be –“
“Rodney.” Her voice was soft, regretful, and it stopped him from finishing his sentence. “I’m sorry. But until you and Dr. Zelenka run some more tests, I’m not letting anyone go back in there. That’s my final decision.”
He stared at her for a long moment, emotions flashing across his face too quickly to read.
“You still don’t trust me,” he finally whispered, voice hoarse and broken.
He was heading out the door before she could find her voice again, momentarily stunned.
“Rodney!” she yelled, exasperation and fondness warring for dominance in her tone, stopping him before he could vanish. For a moment neither moved, the heavy tension in the air so thick she was surprised those outside her office couldn’t see it hanging above their heads, a thick cloud of miscommunications and understandings.
“Rodney,” she murmured again, only this time her voice was as gentle as she had ever made it. It caught the scientist’s attention and turned him around, stepping back into the room so the door closed once more behind him. His eyes were broken, face flushed with embarrassment.
Something inside her melted at that look, something that had been frozen since Arcturus and she hadn’t realized it until that moment. Without thinking she moved, arms folding around her friend almost desperately.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered, and now her voice was harsh, thick with emotion she wouldn’t allow to prick her eyes. “You scared the hell out of us! I can’t – we can’t risk your life, not for a possibility that we’ve managed to live without for this long.”
His breath hitched at her words, a painful sound that made her own throat tighten.
“This isn’t about not trusting you, Rodney,” she whispered, her forehead resting on his hair, the fine strands tickling her nose. “It’s about not wanting to hurt our friend. Do you understand?”
He nodded beneath her, his shoulders tensing a moment before he pulled away, his eyes dry and his mouth set in a determined frown.
“I understand, Elizabeth. But this isn’t about me. It never was.”
He turned away from her confused eyes, and this time she did not try to stop him when he left, watching as he made his slow way down the steps to the nearest transporter. His shoulders were squared, as though preparing to carry a weight far too heavy for him, and when he disappeared, Elizabeth knew that neither one of them had truly understood the other.
***
Rodney McKay did not run. Not unless his life depended on it. This was a well known fact, so much so that when he was spotted running down the barren corridor that headed out to the West Pier by two marines doing standard patrol, they radioed Colonel Sheppard.
“What do you mean, what’s about to blow up?” Sheppard growled into his headset as he entered Rodney’s domain, casting a suspicious glance towards Zelenka who was singing off key as he typed, oblivious to the world around him. “I’m in Dr. McKay’s lab right now and no one is panicking.”
“Sir, if nothing is about to blow up or suddenly sink the city, why is Dr. McKay running?” Even through the distortion of the headset, Sheppard could hear the uncertainty in the Marine’s voice.
“I don’t know, Tochi. Don’t bother him, though. I’ll head down and see what I can find out. Sheppard out,” he sighed.
Turning, he found Zelenka no longer singing or typing, but staring at him with wide, confused eyes.
“Is something wrong?” the scientist asked, his voice quiet in the chaos of the lab.
“I don’t know. There isn’t about to be an explosion or anything, is there? Something you forgot to mention?” Sheppard asked hopefully.
Zelenka blinked at him, opened his mouth, closed it, then glanced around the lab as though seeing if for the first time.
“Who is about to blow up city and didn’t tell anyone?” he shouted, silencing the room and earning wide eyed stares. “Rodney was seen running to West Pier, so whoever is in charge of maintaining that area is about to get ass kicked unless they confess up right now! What is about to go boom?”
Silence met his question, along with several confused and wary expressions.
“Dr. McKay checked my reports this morning,” a small voice finally murmured.
The crowd of scientists parted like the Red Sea, revealing a petit, brown haired woman who probably would have been flattened by a harsh word. Sheppard had to wonder how she had managed to stay alive so long working for McKay.
“He said everything was all right!” she added, shrinking under the combined stares. “He did!”
“Oh-kay,” Sheppard muttered, catching Zelenka’s eye as the group slowly returned to their tasks. “I’ll head down and find out what the problem is. Just –“ He paused, running a hand through his already mussed hair. “Let me know ahead of time if something really is about to explode, ok?”
Zelenka nodded, watching with worried eyes as Sheppard darted out of the room, turning back to his computer and pulling up schematics of the West Pier. Just to be on the safe side.
***
Rodney ran. Not because his life depended on it, or there was a crisis going on in the city. Not even because he enjoyed it. He ran because it was the only way to shut his mind down and regain some of his composure.
The two marines he passed on his way to the West Pier stared at him incredulously, and he had to fight the urge to turn around and ask them what was so damn amusing.
Granted, he had never been one for physical exercise. He had hated gym class, had hated his annual physicals, and still hated the way he felt when sweat dripped down his back and under his arms when he was running for his life or from one crisis to the next.
Then Ronon had dragged him out of his lab one night while the rest of Atlantis lay sleeping, stood looming over him until he changed into appropriate clothes, and then took him on a three mile run through an abandoned part of the city.
“Why – why are you – doing this!” Rodney had panted after the first mile, when his side was burning and his breath was stuttering in his chest. “If I – pissed you off – get used to it! That’s – that’s just the way – the way I am!”
Ronon had stopped, nearly forcing the scientist to run into him, not even out of breath as his eyes took in Rodney’s red face and harsh breathing.
“I like you,” he had finally rumbled, frowning slightly as Rodney started coughing, bent nearly double as he struggled for breath.
“Then why –“ Rodney had demanded with a wave of his hands, unable to finish as another cough took his breath away.
“Sheppard told me you get sick if you don’t eat regularly, and that your body doesn’t convert energy like most people,” Ronon said softly.
Rodney had gapped at him, speechless.
“But he said that exercise would help.” Ronon’s large hand on Rodney’s shoulder had been oddly comforting. Even if it did remind the scientist of the sweat dripping down his back. “He worries about you, and so do I. Besides, you make me laugh,” he had added, earning an incredulous stare from Rodney before he continued. “No one ever trained you to run, did they?”
“I’m a scientist!” Rodney had grumbled, his cheeks flushed from more than physical exertion. He knew he wasn’t in great shape, but honestly, where in his job description did it say run away from scary life sucking aliens on a regular basis?
Ronon had simply nodded thoughtfully. “When you run, concentrate on breathing out. Your body will breath in on its own, it wants to get air to your lungs. We’ll go slowly.”
For a moment Rodney had stared at him, sweat sliding down his back, and his neck clammy and cool. Then he had nodded, trying to hide his resignation behind a grimace.
“Your pace,” Ronon had prompted after a long pause in which they both stood staring at each other, motioning Rodney to precede him before falling easily into step beside him.
To Rodney’s amazement, it had worked. They had run three miles that night, Ronon keeping up a steady, calming cadence of numbers, his pace keeping him right next to Rodney, never allowing him to flag. And when the run was over and they were standing outside Rodney’s door, Ronon had patted him on the back, grinning proudly at him.
“You did well, Doc. We’ll do this again in a few days.”
And so it had become routine, a means to escape, especially in the days following Arcturus. With or without Ronon he had taken to running in empty sections of the city late at night, his mind quieting down as he was forced to concentrate on breathing out, the pump of his legs and the burning in his side.
Now he found himself running away from Elizabeth, from the chaos of the lab that he usually found so comforting, and the dangerous thoughts of Sheppard that were never far from his mind. He had found refuge in the one place he had never found safety before: in his own body.
When he finally reached the pier he leaned against the rail, gathering his breath, debating if he was masochistic enough to attempt running back.
“McKay?”
He startled, turning to see Sheppard approach, gazing warily about as though expecting to find a disaster.
“What’s wrong?” McKay demanded, his embarrassment forgotten by the possibility of a crisis.
“I was about to ask you the same,” Sheppard replied, stopping by McKay’s side and leaning against the railing.
“What?” Rodney asked, startled.
“Rodney, when two of my marines radio me and ask why they haven’t been informed of an impending explosion, it kind of gets me a little worried.” At the scientist’s blank stare, Sheppard sighed and elaborated. “They saw you running and panicked.”
“Oh, for the love of –“ Rodney sighed, deflating as he sat down on the smooth metal floor, legs stretched out before him, railing pressing against his back. “Can’t a person run without raising a city wide alert?” he demanded, staring up at his friend angrily.
“No offense, Rodney, but pretty much everyone knows you don’t run. Not unless something is about to go boom, or there are arrows going over your head. So,” he prodded, sitting down beside the other man and crossing his legs. “What’s going on?”
Rodney sighed, dropping his head to his chest. How on Earth – or rather, Atlantis – could he tell his best friend that the one thing he was running from…was him?
“So?” The colonel prompted, nudging the scientist with his shoulder when no response was forthcoming. “What’s going on, McKay? You know you can trust me.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Sheppard knew it the moment the words left his mouth, when Rodney stiffened beside him and shifted so they were no longer touching.
“Jesus Christ!” McKay snapped, surging to his feet with more energy than Sheppard would have given him credit for. “Yes, yes, you are the all wonderful Colonel John Sheppard, infallible in everything. Everyone knows they can trust you with whatever the hell you want. Well why the fuck don’t you get the hell away from me, all right?”
John stared up at the enraged man, shocked, unable to find words to try and calm him down. Without giving him a chance, Rodney turned and started running, knowing that there was no way to outrun the other, but willing his body to speeds he had never attempted before.
He ignored the burning in his side, the stabbing pain that seemed to fill his chest with each labored breath. His arms pumped the air steadily, his legs moving with a rhythm no longer under his control. Dimly he could hear Sheppard calling after him, anger and frustration clear even through the distance.
Rodney continued to run, unaware of where he was going until he found himself in the stasis chamber, staggering to a stop when he realized where his subconscious had taken him.
For a long moment he stood, leaning heavily against the wall as his breath continued to stutter in his chest with labored gasps, his arm held tightly to his side. His vision wavered slightly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten for some time and his blood sugar was dropping dangerously low.
The sound of running feet somewhere behind him goaded him into action before he was fully aware of what he was doing. Irritably wiping sweat from his eyes, he moved over to the stasis pod, fingers trembling slightly as he pulled the panel off the control pad.
It only took a few moments, but when he was finished he felt a vague sense of satisfaction that almost overcame the dizziness that swept over him in waves.
“Rodney!”
The shout was too close for comfort, and without another thought he found himself inside the chamber, legs shaking as he prepared to close the hatch.
“McKay!” Sheppard shouted as he skid through the doorway, stumbling as he brought himself to a stop, staring in horror at the sight before him.
Closing his eyes, Rodney triggered the hatch, an odd sense of déjà vu filling him as John reached out to try and prevent the inevitable, his shouts abruptly cut off by the small snick of the chamber closing.
Darkness washed over McKay in a soothing breath of coolness, his world fading into an oblivion that he welcomed with open arms.
***
A soft vibration against his side brought his eyes open, his hand absently seeking the soft fur pressed against his warm skin.
“You are back.”
The voice was as lovely as he remembered, as soothing as a cool drink on a hot day. Turning his head slowly he saw her, standing in the center of the room, her gown once more blowing in a breeze that did not touch him.
“I am,” he rasped out, his throat thick with emotions he could not name.
“I am glad,” the woman answered, eyes downcast for a moment. Then she moved, her footsteps making no sound. Only the soft hiss of fabric gave any indication she was more than a ghost. “It has been…lonely.”
He snorted a laugh, his hand tightening unconsciously on Chyoodny’s fur. “Yeah, I expect ten thousand years is a long time to be alone.”
Her fingers settled over his, slender and fragile, like spun glass. The skin was warmer than his own, burning almost, and her eyes were filled with something he could not name when she met his gaze.
“A very long time,” she agreed, voice barely above a whisper. “But even a few days without those we love around us is too long…isn’t it?” Then the contact was gone as she moved back to the center of the room, her eyes never leaving his. “I will leave you. If you desire anything, just speak. I shall hear.”
He stared in fascination as her figure faded, leaving no trace she had ever existed. A reproachful mewl brought him back to himself and he forced his grip on Chyoodny to relax.
“Sorry,” he murmured, sitting up slowly so as not to disturb the still purring cat.
She blinked up at him with large eyes, shifting so her head was butting against his hand. He stroked her absently as he gazed about the room. It was the same as the last time he was here, as though he had never left.
“What the hell am I going to do now?” he asked, swallowing thickly.
Beneath his hands, the steady thrum of a soothing purr was his only answer…as it had been so many nights before.
***
It only took him an hour to download everything he could from the simulation’s computer banks. Though nothing large or life changing, the information would prove to be useful towards some of the more mysterious items that had stumped his science team.
Disheartened, he found himself back in the room he had arrived in, cocooned once more in the thick, warm blanket with Chyoodny and ChewChew curled around him. His fingers carded through their fur absently as he thought over the events of the past several weeks.
First blowing up five sixths of a solar system, followed by John going buggy, then a ten thousand year old ship filled with the collective conscious of a group of people who did not realize they were already dead.
What had it been like, in those last moments for them? To realize that everything they had known was no more, and everyone they cared for was gone? That all they had fought for and struggled with had been in vain? Had it made their passing easier, knowing they were the last remnants of a people who had faded to mythology and half formed stories? Had they embraced their deaths with fear…or hope?
A rough tongue on his cheek startled his eyes open, unaware that he had even closed them. ChewChew continued to lick the tears from his face, a soft purr vibrating his chest. Chyoodny, curled around his head like a giant, misshapen hat, licked at his temple, sticking her tongue into his ear with a single mindedness he had never thought he would miss.
His breath caught on a sob, eyes closing once more as he took comfort in the soothing ministrations. Sleep settled over him gently, a release from fear and thoughts of death and betrayal. He did not feel the slender fingers which pulled the blanket close around his chin, or hear the softly whispered words in a language long dead.
“What the heart needs, so shall I provide.”
***
On to part two http://piplover.livejournal.com/99504.html#cutid1
When Cats Purr
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Pairing: Very mild McShep
Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue.
Summary: Sometimes in life, the only things we can hold onto are the things we've already lost.
Rodney McKay had always been a cat person. From the time he had been
introduced to his first kitten at the age of three, he had found a
unique bond with the animals that he had rarely encountered with any
other living being.
They were independent creatures not needing to coddle, yet were always
there when he did. He could hold them when his world seemed too big,
and know that at least something in his life loved him.
Even in Siberia, he had managed to find himself the dubious owner of a
squat-faced monster the other members of his team had nicknamed Catsquach.
He had loved that feline with a single minded devotion unmatched by
anything in his life save for his passion for physics.
Only once had he heard snickers behind his back after calling her his
little snuggle-wuggle. A day without warm water later and the other
scientists quickly found themselves lavishing the fur-snarled wretch
with tidbits from their dinners.
He had hoped to bring her back with him when he left, but she had
fallen ill and died shortly before he was transferred. That night he
had found a picture of himself, sound asleep, with her curled around
his shoulders on his pillow. He still carried it with him in his
inner coat pocket.
Now, sitting on his bed years later in a different galaxy, he found
himself staring fondly at the wrinkled photo, gently caressing the
square, boxish face.
Chewchew had been next, a small tabby with brown and black splotches
that had nipped at his toes and left mice on his bed. He kept her
picture by his bedside.
Then had come Simone, his last cat in the Milky Way, currently
residing with his model neighbor. Her picture was under his keyboard
in his lab.
Sighing deeply, he found himself curled up on his bed, knees tucked up
to his chest as he gazed for a moment longer at the picture clutched
tightly in his grip.
Perhaps the one thing Rodney McKay loved about his cats the most was
the fact that they had all purred when they were in pain.
Something he could understand only too well.
***
He awoke to the steady pounding on his door, drawing him out of the first sound sleep he had experienced in almost a week. Groggily he stood, realizing distantly that he was still wearing his uniform from yesterday.
“I’m coming!” he bellowed, growling as he stumbled over one of his boots he vaguely remembered kicking off last night.
When he opened the door he was unsurprised to see Sheppard standing on the other side, looking rested and disgustingly put together.
“What?” Rodney demanded, not bothering to hide his irritation.
“My, aren’t you the cheerful one this morning,” Sheppard grinned, his mouth quirked in the smug smile he seemed to reserve for McKay alone. “Since you weren’t answering your radio, Dr. Weir sent me to find you.”
“Did she say why?” Rodney asked, suddenly much more awake then he had been. He scrambled around his room in the hopeful search for a clean shirt, glowering when Sheppard walked in without asking.
“Nope. But Dr. Z was talking a mile a minute and waving his hands around like a madman, which, with that hair, really highlights the Dr. Frankenstein look. Anyway, they want you in the control room ASAP.”
“Fine, fine, give me a few minutes,” Rodney ordered, disappearing into the bathroom with his clean clothes to take care of business and attempt to freshen up. When he came back out five minutes later, he was shaved, his mouth tasting faintly of toothpaste, and his clothes no longer smelling like he had wrestled a Wraith in them.
Sheppard raised his eyebrow without a word, opened the door and gestured for the scientist to precede him.
“Do you have any idea what it is they found?” McKay asked, his long strides taking him to the nearest transporter.
“I thought I already told you no,” Sheppard sighed, giving Rodney his raised eyebrow once more.
“Well, since you seemed so full of inane questions yesterday I thought I would level the playing field,” Rodney snapped, running a hand over his face to erase the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes.
“Inane questions?” Sheppard repeated.
“Yes, I know, it’s rather pointless of me to try and catch up since you’re so far ahead,” Rodney muttered, leaving the transporter and a frowning Sheppard as he made his way to Weir’s office.
He had barely made it up the steps before Zelenka ran up to him, smelling of sweat and coffee and with dark circles under his eyes.
“Good, good you are here!” he greeted, grabbing Rodney’s arm and dragging him into the office where an amused Weir watched from behind her desk. “While you get your beauty sleep, I was going over information you picked up from the pods. I found this!”
A data pad was thrust under Rodney’s nose, Zelenka still talking as he walked over to the coffee machine and poured two cups.
“This is amazing! Do you realize what this could mean? If we can modify the stasis chamber, now that we have the new ZedPM we can see if we can –“
“Yes, yes!” Rodney exclaimed, his eyes scanning the information before him even as he absently took the cup offered. “If we can program the interface to the data from the ship –“
“We may be able to do this!” Zelenka finished, bouncing on his toes and grinning.
“Would someone like to clue me in on the big find?” Sheppard asked, raising his hand to get the scientists’ attention.
“To put it simply, Major, we may be able to download the virtual setting from the ship into the stasis chamber on Atlantis. There may be residual information there we can access!” Rodney explained, not raising his eyes from the pad.
“Colonel,” Sheppard hissed, then frowned. “Wait a minute. Are you saying we could recreate the Aurora?”
“In limited conditions, possibly!” Zelenka agreed, nodding until he looked like a mad scientist bobble head.
“Elizabeth?” McKay asked, looking up just long enough to see Weir’s nod before grabbing Zelenka’s arm and sidestepping Sheppard, his attention already focused on the schematics in his head.
“Think they’ll manage it?” Sheppard asked, watching the two men stumble on the last step and nearly collide with a distracted tech.
“If anyone can, it will be them,” Weir sighed.
***
“Yes, yes, yes!” Rodney yelled, his eyes riveted to the screen before him. “Do that again, whatever you just did!”
A moment later the stasis chamber before them began to hum, green and blue lights twinkling in synchronized patterns.
“Yes!” Zelenka crowed, adjusting the power output until the humming was joined by a deep vibration. “Outputs are at maximum, and all systems are green!” he reported. “According to simulation, it is ready.”
“Right,” Rodney sighed, rubbing his hands together as he gazed at the pod before him with the slightest trace of worry tingeing his excitement.
He toggled the radio in his ear. “Elizabeth? We’re ready to try this.”
“Hold on, Rodney,” Weir’s voice cautioned, tiny in his ear yet firm. “I want Colonel Sheppard and Becket there in case anything happens.”
“Nothing is going to happen!” Rodney protested, glaring at the wall as his temper flared. “We have run three simulations, and each of them shows an increase in the output generated by the pod. Basically, the signal becomes more stable each time we run it,” he added, knowing Sheppard was listening.
“I still want to be there when you try this, Rodney,” Weir replied. “We’ll be there in three minutes.”
Rodney looked over to Zelenka, pleased to see a scowl on the other man’s face.
“They still don’t trust me,” Rodney muttered, more to himself than to the other as he started to pace.
Zelenka heard him and sighed, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what to tell his friend. He had forgiven McKay almost immediately after the man had apologized, knowing full well the passion that had driven his friend, and the blindness that all too often infected even the most reserved scientists.
Weir and Sheppard, on the other hand, still seemed to be coming to terms with the fact that their chief scientist was not infallible, and Zelenka knew that bothered his friend more than McKay would ever admit.
A moment later and the doors opened, admitting Sheppard, Beckett and Weir, the three of them eyeing the pod with more trepidation than Rodney thought was warranted.
“Good, you’re all here, can we please get started before the next millennium? Please?” Rodney snapped, moving over to the pod and triggering the hatch open.
“Wait a minute, McKay,” Sheppard said, moving to stand in front of the pod. “How certain are you this thing is safe?”
“Is fine, Colonel!” Zelenka snapped, earning surprised looks from the three newcomers. A flush redden his cheeks, but he continued. “Is the same technology as was used on ship, we have run simulations, and even added a failsafe. It will be almost the same as when you were on the Aurora.”
“Yes, yes, what he said!” Rodney agreed. “So, if you don’t mind…”
“You’ll be able to pull yourself out at any time?” Weir asked, her gaze fixed on the pod with a kind of horrified fascination which no one could blame her for.
“Yes,” Rodney groaned, stomping his foot as he continued. “And if anything happens Zelenka will be monitoring me from out here and be able to pull me out if he thinks there is anything wrong. But nothing is going to happen, so can we please get on with this?”
“Why don’t you let me go first, McKay?” Sheppard asked, turning a skeptical glance to the other. “That way if anything goes wrong, both of you will be out here.”
For a moment McKay stared at Sheppard, his cheeks flushing.
“You still don’t trust me,” he murmured, and the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. “But this isn’t some unknown ship, Colonel. I assure you, Atlantis is perfectly safe, and so am I.”
Without waiting for further comments, knowing the other man was about to protest, Rodney stepped into the pod, nodding to Zelenka.
“Do it,” he ordered, ignoring Weir and Beckett’s protests and the corner of his mouth turning up as Sheppard’s reaching arm was prevented from grabbing him by the pod closing.
Then everything went dark.
***
He was surrounded by warmth, a feeling very much like being wrapped in a towel just pulled from the dryer. For a long moment he reveled in the sensation, keeping his eyes closed and allowing his body to soak up the wonderful heat.
Then a tongue rasped against his cheek, and McKay found himself jerking upright, staring at the creature looking up at him in fearful wonder, unable to take in his surroundings as his brain processed what it was seeing.
“C-Catsquach?” he whispered, staring at the boxish face and matted fur in wonder.
The cat staring up at him mewled, butting her head against his hand in a gesture so familiar Rodney felt his heart break.
“Chyoodny,” he whispered, burying his face into the warm fur, inhaling the scent of stale cat food and dirt.
He had never understood why the other scientists had nicknamed her Catsquach. She may have been worn around the edges, and certainly she hissed if anyone tried to take her food or pet her when she wasn’t in the mood to be petted, but to him, she was always Chyoodny – Lovely.
For a long moment he simply enjoyed the feel of her unique fur against his fingers, her gentle purr easing a tension in his shoulders he had not even been aware of.
“How – how did you get here?” he whispered, staring lovingly into giant yellow eyes that blinked contently, rubbing the ridge above her nose absently as he finally took in the room.
He was in a bedroom, similar to the ones in Atlantis if a bit smaller. The bed he lay on was softer even than his own, and the blankets that bunched around his waist felt like a cross between a down comforter and a silk throw.
There were no pictures on the walls, no furniture besides an empty desk and a chair that looked well used. A panel on the wall glowed a faint blue, the only light in the room.
“Where am I?” he whispered, cradling the purring feline close to his chest as he stood, realizing that once more he was wearing the uniform from the Aurora, sans shoes.
He padded over to the panel on the wall, hesitating only a moment when the glow became brighter at his approach. When he was only a foot away, the panel opened with a hiss, revealing a screen similar to the ones that generated projections in the lab.
Chyoodny mewled softly, her eyes fixed on the screen, and a moment later a figure appeared in the center of his room, glowing softly.
She had golden hair that hung about her form like a halo, wisps floating in a breeze that did not touch Rodney. Her gown was dark blue, reaching to her feet in folds of cloth that whispered as she turned brilliant green eyes on the scientist. The gown only had one shoulder, toga style, gauzy material flowing about her arm in veil-like strips.
Her skin was creamy and smooth, perfect in the dim light, and she reminded Rodney of a Roman Goddess.
“Who – who are you? Where am I?” he demanded, though his tone came out breathy and shaking. “This isn’t the Aurora.”
“Not exactly, no. This is a virtual environment, created to help crewmembers maintain brain function while in stasis.”
Her voice was soft, with a slight accent that reminded him of Miko’s.
“I am a guide, to help you in whatever function you would like.” She smiled gently at him, a promise of things she could do for him…and to him. “A companion, to answer any questions and provide guidance.”
A movement from the doorway caught his attention, his breath stuttering in his chest as Chewchew meandered into the room, weaving about his legs in her typical greeting.
It was too much, and Rodney found himself gasping for breath, stumbling out of the pod to land on his knees, his arms trembling as he fought to keep from collapsing.
“Rodney?”
“What happened?”
“Is he all right?”
The voices merged together into so much noise, and with a shuddering gasp he found himself lurching to his feet, stumbling away from arms that sought to steady him, shaking his head in denial, eyes squinted tightly shut.
“Rodney!” Beckett said firmly, his hands gripping Rodney’s shoulders and forcing the other to stand still. “What happened, lad? What went wrong?”
McKay shook his head, realizing his cheeks were wet with tears and a small, whimpering sound was coming from the back of his throat.
“Rodney?” Sheppard asked, moving cautiously to his friend’s side.
Sinking to his knees despite Beckett’s firm grasp, he found himself shaking uncontrollably, a phantom scent of fur lingering on his shirt. He knew he was worrying the others, but as Carson injected something into his arm and darkness slowly faded his vision, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
***
Chyoodny had been found in one of the recently vacated resident huts, abandoned when her previous owner had been shipped back to civilization. The woman had left everything from her toothbrush to her closet full of clothes, leaving Siberia without a backward glance or care for the life she had taken responsibility for.
The guard who found her, following up on a report of strange sounds coming from the hut, had received eighteen stitches for his troubles. No one else attempted to get near her as she crouched in the corner of the infirmary, eyeing all those around her warily with sharp, steady eyes.
On a post so small and enclosed word traveled fast, and fifteen minutes after the guard had been stitched up, nearly all the scientist and a good portion of the soldiers had wandered into the confined space to catch a look of the “demon cat.”
Anyone who attempted to stray too near received a hissed warning and a low growl for their trouble. Offers of raw meat were refused, and the one person who dared brute force had received a concussion after backpedaling so fast he rammed his head against a table.
Then Rodney had stormed in, furious to find the labs empty and the work seemingly paused for no apparent reason.
“Is there some plague running rampant I was unaware of?” he demanded, earning startled glances similar to the ones previously aimed at the cat. “Or have all of you suddenly dropped IQ points and decided that standing around like so many lemmings will improve your thought processes?”
The scientists fled, scattering like sheep set upon by a wolf, and the guards found themselves huddling close to their wounded member, unwilling to leave in the face of possibly seeing the most feared person in Siberia brought down by a cat.
Movement caught all their attention, and more than one set of eyes had widened in astonished horror as the matted and disreputable creature had made its slow way from under the table it had been hiding under.
“What have we here?” Rodney murmured, his tone suddenly much more subdued, body language shifting until even the doctors hovering about stared in wonder at the transformation from raging dictator to curious scientist.
Slowly lowering himself to the ground, legs stretched out to either side, Rodney had found himself crooning softly, ignoring the disbelieving stares he was receiving.
“Come here, kitty,” he murmured, patting his thigh gently. “Come here, I won’t hurt you.”
And she had come to him, hesitant and unwillingly trusting. He had made no move to touch her, allowing her to run the introduction, bumping him with her cold nose and then, more confidently, butting his hand with her head.
After that, she had been all his, following him around the living quarters, daintily eating the tidbits he offered from his fingers, and curling around him tightly in the odd hours he slept.
Never once did she scratch, bite, or hiss at him, saving those attentions for everyone else. After a month, everyone from the guards to the scientists were in complete agreement: the two were meant for each other.
***
He woke slowly, lazily, his brain hazy and his body feeling too heavy. Carson must have given him some of the good stuff.
“Rodney?”
“Gmmph,” he muttered, trying to shield his eyes from the penlight Beckett was shining in them, scowling up at his friend.
“Is Sleeping Beauty finally awake?” Sheppard’s voice asked a moment before the Colonel came into sight, face anxious behind the charming smile. “About time, McKay.”
“What happened? How long was I out?” Rodney asked thickly, his mouth feeling as though he had been sucking on cotton balls all night.
“What do you remember?” Beckett asked softly, shooting a sharp glance to Sheppard before turning his full attention back to the scientist.
“The pod,” Rodney murmured, the memories suddenly bright and clear as he sat up, grimacing as a wave of dizziness hit him.
“Easy, Rodney,” Beckett soothed, pushing him back down with an ease that was pathetic.
“What happened, McKay?” Sheppard demanded, moving so he was perched on the foot of the bed, hair sticking up at even odder angles than usual, his uniform rumpled as though he had been sleeping in it. “You shot out of that thing like a demon was chasing you.”
He could feel the flush make its way up his cheeks, couldn’t look the others in the face as embarrassment hit him full force.
“There was an - unexpected – situation,” he mumbled, turning his head away so he could avoid the confused glances. “I hadn’t – I wasn’t expecting certain things to be there. It startled me, that’s all.”
He hated how his voice trembled slightly, how his hand shook when he ran it through his hair.
“Rodney?” Sheppard asked, his tone making it clear that there was no way in hell the scientist was getting off without a complete explanation. “You scared the shit out of Dr. Z, and it wasn’t exactly a picnic for the rest of us, either. What kind of situation?” He paused, waiting for a response, and when none came, prompted, “Was it a Wraith?”
The fact that the situation had been so far removed from that suggestion earned a strangled laugh.
“No,” Rodney whispered, feeling his eyes prickle and hating himself for it. Hating the fact that the memory of Chyoodny’s fur against his hands, of Chewchew’s mewled greeting could bring him down so low when not even a sappy Christmas card from his sister had brought up a tenth of the emotions he was feeling now. “No, it wasn’t the Wraith. Just some – old friends – I never thought to see again.”
Friends that had seen him through his worst days, who had been there when no other living soul, including his sister, had cared about him. Friends who loved him unconditionally, without reserve, without judgment. Not because he was the smartest man they had met, or wanted something from him, but because he fed them, brushed them…and loved them unconditionally in return.
There was a long moment when the only sound was his harsh breathing and Sheppard’s suppressed sigh.
“Doc, could you leave us for a few minutes?”
The sound of the curtain moving, footsteps fading, and then John’s hand, warm and calloused and firm on his chin, turning his face so he was forced to look into hazel eyes that had seen too much.
“Talk to me, Rodney,” John prompted, sitting on the bed next to Rodney’s shoulder, his gaze unwavering. “What rattled you so much Carson had to sedate you? Zelenka picked up a few odd readings, but he said it was nothing unusual, nothing we should worry about. So what did we not worry about, Rodney, that we should have?”
Rodney took a deep breath, feeling it stutter in his chest.
“There was a woman,” he began, thinking back to the guide and her gentle, soft words. “She was a construct designed to help people put in stasis, to keep their brains active and stop them from freaking out when they realized what was happening.” He felt a gentle smile turn his lips. “She was beautiful.”
“You said you met up with some friends. Did she bring them to you?” Sheppard asked, his tone carefully neutral.
“No,” Rodney whispered, closing his eyes, almost able to feel once more the matted fur beneath his fingers, to smell the cat food. “They found me.”
“Who was it?” John prompted after the silence began to stretch. “Old girl friend?” Rodney snorted, casting an annoyed look to his friend. “An old boyfriend?” John tried again, this time his grin mischievous.
Rodney scowled, flicking the other man’s hand with his fingers.
“Please, Colonel,” he sighed, feeling suddenly very pathetic. “I haven’t had either for so long it’s not even worth mentioning.”
It could have been his imagination, but John seemed to relax slightly at that. “Then who was it? Come on, McKay, talk to me!” he prompted. “I had a houseful of dead friends on Fog World, I think I can understand.”
“Mcts,” Rodney mumbled, feeling his face heat even as he said the words, wondering how the other would react to finding out Rodney had freaked out over seeing his lost pets.
“What was that?” John asked, confused.
“My. Cats,” Rodney enunciated. “I saw my cats, all right? I just – I hadn’t been prepared for it and I freaked.”
He waited, expecting laughter or a snide remark. What he received was a gentle hand to his shoulder, and understanding hazel eyes that refused to let him turn away.
“It must have really shocked the shit out of you to get that reaction,” Sheppard murmured softly.
McKay nodded, his throat suddenly feeling thick. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he agreed.
The silence lengthened until his eyes began to droop, the steady rhythm of John’s breath as peaceful as Chyoodny’s purr had been.
“Get some more sleep, we’ll talk about this later,” Sheppard finally murmured.
Something brushed his forehead, there and then gone before he could register what it was, and then he was alone again. Blinking dazedly at Sheppard’s retreating back, he wondered what had just happened.
***
“Elizabeth, I’m telling you, it was perfectly safe! I freaked out, my fault, not the pods! There is nothing dangerous about this!” Rodney yelled, his voice having risen over the course of the past hour.
“Rodney!” Weir shouted, her tone cutting off further argument as she gazed firmly at the red faced scientist. She sighed, running a hand through her hair as she began to pace. “I don’t feel comfortable sending you back in there. Carson had to sedate you, for goodness sake, and I don’t care what you say, anything that rattles you that much just isn’t safe!”
“See, that’s the problem!” Rodney snapped, gesturing wildly with his hands. “We both know I have certain – neurotic – tendencies. This just happened to set one off, but I’m much better now, and when I go back in I’ll know what to expect! Elizabeth,” he added, softly, his eyes pleading now. “Think of all that we can gain from this! If I can get into one of the labs, the information that is saved there could be –be –“
“Rodney.” Her voice was soft, regretful, and it stopped him from finishing his sentence. “I’m sorry. But until you and Dr. Zelenka run some more tests, I’m not letting anyone go back in there. That’s my final decision.”
He stared at her for a long moment, emotions flashing across his face too quickly to read.
“You still don’t trust me,” he finally whispered, voice hoarse and broken.
He was heading out the door before she could find her voice again, momentarily stunned.
“Rodney!” she yelled, exasperation and fondness warring for dominance in her tone, stopping him before he could vanish. For a moment neither moved, the heavy tension in the air so thick she was surprised those outside her office couldn’t see it hanging above their heads, a thick cloud of miscommunications and understandings.
“Rodney,” she murmured again, only this time her voice was as gentle as she had ever made it. It caught the scientist’s attention and turned him around, stepping back into the room so the door closed once more behind him. His eyes were broken, face flushed with embarrassment.
Something inside her melted at that look, something that had been frozen since Arcturus and she hadn’t realized it until that moment. Without thinking she moved, arms folding around her friend almost desperately.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered, and now her voice was harsh, thick with emotion she wouldn’t allow to prick her eyes. “You scared the hell out of us! I can’t – we can’t risk your life, not for a possibility that we’ve managed to live without for this long.”
His breath hitched at her words, a painful sound that made her own throat tighten.
“This isn’t about not trusting you, Rodney,” she whispered, her forehead resting on his hair, the fine strands tickling her nose. “It’s about not wanting to hurt our friend. Do you understand?”
He nodded beneath her, his shoulders tensing a moment before he pulled away, his eyes dry and his mouth set in a determined frown.
“I understand, Elizabeth. But this isn’t about me. It never was.”
He turned away from her confused eyes, and this time she did not try to stop him when he left, watching as he made his slow way down the steps to the nearest transporter. His shoulders were squared, as though preparing to carry a weight far too heavy for him, and when he disappeared, Elizabeth knew that neither one of them had truly understood the other.
***
Rodney McKay did not run. Not unless his life depended on it. This was a well known fact, so much so that when he was spotted running down the barren corridor that headed out to the West Pier by two marines doing standard patrol, they radioed Colonel Sheppard.
“What do you mean, what’s about to blow up?” Sheppard growled into his headset as he entered Rodney’s domain, casting a suspicious glance towards Zelenka who was singing off key as he typed, oblivious to the world around him. “I’m in Dr. McKay’s lab right now and no one is panicking.”
“Sir, if nothing is about to blow up or suddenly sink the city, why is Dr. McKay running?” Even through the distortion of the headset, Sheppard could hear the uncertainty in the Marine’s voice.
“I don’t know, Tochi. Don’t bother him, though. I’ll head down and see what I can find out. Sheppard out,” he sighed.
Turning, he found Zelenka no longer singing or typing, but staring at him with wide, confused eyes.
“Is something wrong?” the scientist asked, his voice quiet in the chaos of the lab.
“I don’t know. There isn’t about to be an explosion or anything, is there? Something you forgot to mention?” Sheppard asked hopefully.
Zelenka blinked at him, opened his mouth, closed it, then glanced around the lab as though seeing if for the first time.
“Who is about to blow up city and didn’t tell anyone?” he shouted, silencing the room and earning wide eyed stares. “Rodney was seen running to West Pier, so whoever is in charge of maintaining that area is about to get ass kicked unless they confess up right now! What is about to go boom?”
Silence met his question, along with several confused and wary expressions.
“Dr. McKay checked my reports this morning,” a small voice finally murmured.
The crowd of scientists parted like the Red Sea, revealing a petit, brown haired woman who probably would have been flattened by a harsh word. Sheppard had to wonder how she had managed to stay alive so long working for McKay.
“He said everything was all right!” she added, shrinking under the combined stares. “He did!”
“Oh-kay,” Sheppard muttered, catching Zelenka’s eye as the group slowly returned to their tasks. “I’ll head down and find out what the problem is. Just –“ He paused, running a hand through his already mussed hair. “Let me know ahead of time if something really is about to explode, ok?”
Zelenka nodded, watching with worried eyes as Sheppard darted out of the room, turning back to his computer and pulling up schematics of the West Pier. Just to be on the safe side.
***
Rodney ran. Not because his life depended on it, or there was a crisis going on in the city. Not even because he enjoyed it. He ran because it was the only way to shut his mind down and regain some of his composure.
The two marines he passed on his way to the West Pier stared at him incredulously, and he had to fight the urge to turn around and ask them what was so damn amusing.
Granted, he had never been one for physical exercise. He had hated gym class, had hated his annual physicals, and still hated the way he felt when sweat dripped down his back and under his arms when he was running for his life or from one crisis to the next.
Then Ronon had dragged him out of his lab one night while the rest of Atlantis lay sleeping, stood looming over him until he changed into appropriate clothes, and then took him on a three mile run through an abandoned part of the city.
“Why – why are you – doing this!” Rodney had panted after the first mile, when his side was burning and his breath was stuttering in his chest. “If I – pissed you off – get used to it! That’s – that’s just the way – the way I am!”
Ronon had stopped, nearly forcing the scientist to run into him, not even out of breath as his eyes took in Rodney’s red face and harsh breathing.
“I like you,” he had finally rumbled, frowning slightly as Rodney started coughing, bent nearly double as he struggled for breath.
“Then why –“ Rodney had demanded with a wave of his hands, unable to finish as another cough took his breath away.
“Sheppard told me you get sick if you don’t eat regularly, and that your body doesn’t convert energy like most people,” Ronon said softly.
Rodney had gapped at him, speechless.
“But he said that exercise would help.” Ronon’s large hand on Rodney’s shoulder had been oddly comforting. Even if it did remind the scientist of the sweat dripping down his back. “He worries about you, and so do I. Besides, you make me laugh,” he had added, earning an incredulous stare from Rodney before he continued. “No one ever trained you to run, did they?”
“I’m a scientist!” Rodney had grumbled, his cheeks flushed from more than physical exertion. He knew he wasn’t in great shape, but honestly, where in his job description did it say run away from scary life sucking aliens on a regular basis?
Ronon had simply nodded thoughtfully. “When you run, concentrate on breathing out. Your body will breath in on its own, it wants to get air to your lungs. We’ll go slowly.”
For a moment Rodney had stared at him, sweat sliding down his back, and his neck clammy and cool. Then he had nodded, trying to hide his resignation behind a grimace.
“Your pace,” Ronon had prompted after a long pause in which they both stood staring at each other, motioning Rodney to precede him before falling easily into step beside him.
To Rodney’s amazement, it had worked. They had run three miles that night, Ronon keeping up a steady, calming cadence of numbers, his pace keeping him right next to Rodney, never allowing him to flag. And when the run was over and they were standing outside Rodney’s door, Ronon had patted him on the back, grinning proudly at him.
“You did well, Doc. We’ll do this again in a few days.”
And so it had become routine, a means to escape, especially in the days following Arcturus. With or without Ronon he had taken to running in empty sections of the city late at night, his mind quieting down as he was forced to concentrate on breathing out, the pump of his legs and the burning in his side.
Now he found himself running away from Elizabeth, from the chaos of the lab that he usually found so comforting, and the dangerous thoughts of Sheppard that were never far from his mind. He had found refuge in the one place he had never found safety before: in his own body.
When he finally reached the pier he leaned against the rail, gathering his breath, debating if he was masochistic enough to attempt running back.
“McKay?”
He startled, turning to see Sheppard approach, gazing warily about as though expecting to find a disaster.
“What’s wrong?” McKay demanded, his embarrassment forgotten by the possibility of a crisis.
“I was about to ask you the same,” Sheppard replied, stopping by McKay’s side and leaning against the railing.
“What?” Rodney asked, startled.
“Rodney, when two of my marines radio me and ask why they haven’t been informed of an impending explosion, it kind of gets me a little worried.” At the scientist’s blank stare, Sheppard sighed and elaborated. “They saw you running and panicked.”
“Oh, for the love of –“ Rodney sighed, deflating as he sat down on the smooth metal floor, legs stretched out before him, railing pressing against his back. “Can’t a person run without raising a city wide alert?” he demanded, staring up at his friend angrily.
“No offense, Rodney, but pretty much everyone knows you don’t run. Not unless something is about to go boom, or there are arrows going over your head. So,” he prodded, sitting down beside the other man and crossing his legs. “What’s going on?”
Rodney sighed, dropping his head to his chest. How on Earth – or rather, Atlantis – could he tell his best friend that the one thing he was running from…was him?
“So?” The colonel prompted, nudging the scientist with his shoulder when no response was forthcoming. “What’s going on, McKay? You know you can trust me.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Sheppard knew it the moment the words left his mouth, when Rodney stiffened beside him and shifted so they were no longer touching.
“Jesus Christ!” McKay snapped, surging to his feet with more energy than Sheppard would have given him credit for. “Yes, yes, you are the all wonderful Colonel John Sheppard, infallible in everything. Everyone knows they can trust you with whatever the hell you want. Well why the fuck don’t you get the hell away from me, all right?”
John stared up at the enraged man, shocked, unable to find words to try and calm him down. Without giving him a chance, Rodney turned and started running, knowing that there was no way to outrun the other, but willing his body to speeds he had never attempted before.
He ignored the burning in his side, the stabbing pain that seemed to fill his chest with each labored breath. His arms pumped the air steadily, his legs moving with a rhythm no longer under his control. Dimly he could hear Sheppard calling after him, anger and frustration clear even through the distance.
Rodney continued to run, unaware of where he was going until he found himself in the stasis chamber, staggering to a stop when he realized where his subconscious had taken him.
For a long moment he stood, leaning heavily against the wall as his breath continued to stutter in his chest with labored gasps, his arm held tightly to his side. His vision wavered slightly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten for some time and his blood sugar was dropping dangerously low.
The sound of running feet somewhere behind him goaded him into action before he was fully aware of what he was doing. Irritably wiping sweat from his eyes, he moved over to the stasis pod, fingers trembling slightly as he pulled the panel off the control pad.
It only took a few moments, but when he was finished he felt a vague sense of satisfaction that almost overcame the dizziness that swept over him in waves.
“Rodney!”
The shout was too close for comfort, and without another thought he found himself inside the chamber, legs shaking as he prepared to close the hatch.
“McKay!” Sheppard shouted as he skid through the doorway, stumbling as he brought himself to a stop, staring in horror at the sight before him.
Closing his eyes, Rodney triggered the hatch, an odd sense of déjà vu filling him as John reached out to try and prevent the inevitable, his shouts abruptly cut off by the small snick of the chamber closing.
Darkness washed over McKay in a soothing breath of coolness, his world fading into an oblivion that he welcomed with open arms.
***
A soft vibration against his side brought his eyes open, his hand absently seeking the soft fur pressed against his warm skin.
“You are back.”
The voice was as lovely as he remembered, as soothing as a cool drink on a hot day. Turning his head slowly he saw her, standing in the center of the room, her gown once more blowing in a breeze that did not touch him.
“I am,” he rasped out, his throat thick with emotions he could not name.
“I am glad,” the woman answered, eyes downcast for a moment. Then she moved, her footsteps making no sound. Only the soft hiss of fabric gave any indication she was more than a ghost. “It has been…lonely.”
He snorted a laugh, his hand tightening unconsciously on Chyoodny’s fur. “Yeah, I expect ten thousand years is a long time to be alone.”
Her fingers settled over his, slender and fragile, like spun glass. The skin was warmer than his own, burning almost, and her eyes were filled with something he could not name when she met his gaze.
“A very long time,” she agreed, voice barely above a whisper. “But even a few days without those we love around us is too long…isn’t it?” Then the contact was gone as she moved back to the center of the room, her eyes never leaving his. “I will leave you. If you desire anything, just speak. I shall hear.”
He stared in fascination as her figure faded, leaving no trace she had ever existed. A reproachful mewl brought him back to himself and he forced his grip on Chyoodny to relax.
“Sorry,” he murmured, sitting up slowly so as not to disturb the still purring cat.
She blinked up at him with large eyes, shifting so her head was butting against his hand. He stroked her absently as he gazed about the room. It was the same as the last time he was here, as though he had never left.
“What the hell am I going to do now?” he asked, swallowing thickly.
Beneath his hands, the steady thrum of a soothing purr was his only answer…as it had been so many nights before.
***
It only took him an hour to download everything he could from the simulation’s computer banks. Though nothing large or life changing, the information would prove to be useful towards some of the more mysterious items that had stumped his science team.
Disheartened, he found himself back in the room he had arrived in, cocooned once more in the thick, warm blanket with Chyoodny and ChewChew curled around him. His fingers carded through their fur absently as he thought over the events of the past several weeks.
First blowing up five sixths of a solar system, followed by John going buggy, then a ten thousand year old ship filled with the collective conscious of a group of people who did not realize they were already dead.
What had it been like, in those last moments for them? To realize that everything they had known was no more, and everyone they cared for was gone? That all they had fought for and struggled with had been in vain? Had it made their passing easier, knowing they were the last remnants of a people who had faded to mythology and half formed stories? Had they embraced their deaths with fear…or hope?
A rough tongue on his cheek startled his eyes open, unaware that he had even closed them. ChewChew continued to lick the tears from his face, a soft purr vibrating his chest. Chyoodny, curled around his head like a giant, misshapen hat, licked at his temple, sticking her tongue into his ear with a single mindedness he had never thought he would miss.
His breath caught on a sob, eyes closing once more as he took comfort in the soothing ministrations. Sleep settled over him gently, a release from fear and thoughts of death and betrayal. He did not feel the slender fingers which pulled the blanket close around his chin, or hear the softly whispered words in a language long dead.
“What the heart needs, so shall I provide.”
***
On to part two http://piplover.livejournal.com/99504.html#cutid1
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Date: 2006-11-06 05:42 am (UTC)And to him, she really was beautiful.