Fic: Filling in all the Empty Places.
Feb. 16th, 2015 06:37 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
melagan.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
romancingmcshepTitle: Filling in all the Empty Places
Rating: PG
WC: 4100
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mezzo_cammin
AO3 Link
This fic was born out of these two prompts from last year.
28.The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.
-- Rumi, The Essential Rumi
29.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
-- Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Love Sonnets: XV
A blast of sound and light overwhelmed John's senses. He made a grab for something, anything to break his imminent fall, but only clutched at empty air. God damn it. If he couldn't save himself, he couldn't save Rodney. They'd walked through the gate together, just seconds ago. He had to be nearby and hurting as badly as he was.
John tried to make sense of his surroundings but his screwy perceptions threw everything off. Light became a roaring sound so bright he had to keep his eyes tightly shut. He couldn't hear a damn thing over the noise.
He couldn't see, couldn't hear, and his spatial sense was completely screwed. Only the awareness that the blood wasn't rushing to his head assured him that he wasn't hanging upside down. He had no idea what side of the gate they were on and, oh yeah, couldn't find McKay. John forced himself to concentrate on what he did know.
They were checking out a planet as a possible alpha site. Bored and expecting it to be a cakewalk, he’d volunteered himself and McKay. The side plan was to get Rodney away from the city for some target practice and, for once, he hadn't argued.
Likely, their new Satedan teammate had something to do with that. Ronon's gruff threat to train him if John didn't certainly seemed to have an effect. Either way, he and Rodney were the only ones who had gone through the gate and gotten caught in the blowback.
Feeling began coming back to his hands and John’s knuckles brushed against what had to be Rodney's tack vest. He grabbed onto it, shaky with relief. "McKay – Rodney?" Keeping a tight grip on the only anchor he had in this mess, John leaned in and caught a strong whiff of coconut. Relief washed through him. "No more teasing you about your homemade sunscreen, buddy. Promise."
John gave the tack vest an awkward pat. "Are you okay? Do you know what happened? Oh fuck, I can't hear a thing and you probably can't, either." Carefully, he reached up and pressed his fingers against Rodney's throat, feeling for his pulse.
It felt strong and steady but slower than he expected for someone with Rodney's tendency to panic. Alive then, but likely unconscious; which was going to throw a monkey wrench in John's plans to tap out Morse code to communicate. "Always got to make things difficult, don't you? Your ego is letting me down here, McKay, and I don't intend to let you forget it. Of course, I might be able to figure it out on my own if I had two minutes of quiet."
The roaring light around him faded. Sense-blind and reeling, John fell. Off balance, and grappling for his footing, he held onto McKay with a death-grip as again, his surroundings shifted.
This time he could see, and yeah, he recognized this place. He should. He'd stumbled into his own psyche. Well, fuck. At least now he had a clue about what happened, because this situation had Ancient, ascended-wannabe screw-up written all over it.
He stood beside a deep well surrounded by – John was loathe to use the word junkyard so he was going with collector's items. Oh yeah, he recognized it all right; from the burned helicopter husk to the dusty wedding ring. If he turned, he was certain he'd see a pegboard with a row of blood-stained dog tags hanging in a tidy row.
He didn't turn around. He didn't particularly care to explore his own psyche, thank you very much. Nevertheless, something felt different, almost comfortable.
Always before, his personal landscape contained a minefield of harsh, brittle edges and gaping hollows. They weren't gone, not exactly, but it did look like someone had stepped in and smoothed out the broken cracks – taking the shattered parts and making them whole.
Probing further, he could feel the ache of old memories, a dull and colorless thing compared to the pain he expected. Even the spaces he normally shied away felt settled. Settled, complete, and embraced in understanding. It would freak him out if it didn't feel so damn good.
It took time to recognize where this healing came from and, when he did, it gave him another shock to add to his growing list. It came from Rodney. Fucking Dr. Rodney McKay had somehow messed around in his head. Hell, couldn't that man leave anything alone? Oh god, Rodney. Refusing to panic, John pulled himself back to the physical plane.
Blinded again by white noise and vertigo, he reached out for what he could feel and gently slapped Rodney's cheek. "I need you to wake up, buddy. Not that I don't appreciate the total acceptance thing, but I’m getting desperate for some answers here."
When he got no response, he started to worry in earnest. He had to do something.
Looking into Rodney's mental psyche was something he'd just as soon stay away from. John knew the man was a veritable warehouse of neuroses. Still, it might be the only way to wake him up. Clearly, Rodney had found a pathway to John's mind, so how hard could it be to traverse it in reverse? "Damn it, McKay, I wish I could look inside that big brain of yours and see how to get out of this mess."
Suddenly he was there, with Rodney's psyche spread out in front of him. It was a calmer place than he ever would have guessed and John got lost for a while, fascinated by what he was seeing.
One corner had an aquarium with miniature whales and a list of feeding times taped to the side. He saw rows of drawers, each neatly labeled. Sitting on top was a basket of lemons and oranges; each piece of fruit carefully vacuumed sealed. John shook his head. Leave it to Rodney to organize his neuroses. Whales and lemons he could understand but he had no idea why Rodney had a baby grand piano in pristine condition, reflecting back a light so bright it hurt to look at.
There were none of the fractures John expected to see – only on closer inspection, clearly, they'd existed once. Like his own psyche, all the rough edges had been smoothed out and filled with something that felt like acceptance. John's acceptance. He could read his past presence here as clearly as grease on a windshield.
As if it weren't already weird enough, the fixed pieces here were a mirror image of his own, as though they were designed to fit together. Oh yeah, there was definitely some ascended shit at work here.
He walked over to the one messy spot in the room. Pieces of metal and gears sat around a table that had blueprints spread over it. Rodney was building a Ferris wheel - for John. Not ready to think about what that might mean, he backed off.
Before he could think, he heard Rodney groan, a purely physical sound that pulled John back to the real world. The interference was gone and he could hear people talking above his head. John couldn't make out the words at first but could hear the timbre of shock and concern in their voices. He tightened his grip on Rodney. McKay made a hell of an anchor.
"Infirmary, now!"
That sounded like Carson. John opened his eyes. They were in the gate room and he was on the floor lying halfway across Rodney's chest. Oh, well that would explain why he heard the voices coming from above him. Rodney must have broken John's fall when they'd been blown back through the gate.
"I can't get them separated, Dr. Beckett. Not without the risk of breaking Colonel Sheppard's fingers."
"Oh for the love of…I'll handle it, Corporal. Run on ahead and make sure the infirmary is ready for us. Set up the quarantine room and be prepared to shove two cots together, just in case."
Carson spoke firmly in John's ear. "You have to let go, Colonel. Can you hear me? Do you know what's happening to you and Rodney? Colonel?"
"Nnghh." John figured that was a pretty good answer under the circumstances. Why couldn't he let go? He understood the words. Sent the right signals to his brain for his hand to unclench, but his body rebelled, refusing to go back to being alone.
"Do your best to get them on the gurney together," Carson directed. "Aye, Rodney's back won't be grateful for it, but hopefully he won't have to put up with it long."
John could bless Carson's Scottish heart for taking in the scope of the situation and not forcing a separation here.
"Chuck," Elizabeth commanded, "raise the shield and shut down power to the gate. And get Dr. Zelenka up here. I want to know exactly what happened. Sargent Bates! Double security until we can be certain we're not under some kind of attack."
John overheard Elizabeth's commands as Carson wheeled them from the gate room. Silently, he approved. While he had his doubts about it being an attack, anything that took out the military's commanding officer and the head scientist in one blow needed to be taken damned seriously.
~*~
John cracked his eyes open, head groggy but pain-free. Elizabeth's face swam into view.
"It's good to see you awake, John. Can you tell us what happened?" she asked.
He couldn't do this now – here, with so many voices clamoring around him. Someone had pulled them apart with a painful wrench that he still felt in his bones. Remembering Rodney's moan of pain, he hadn't liked it much either. It took long seconds for John to recognize the empty hand he felt was his own.
"Where's Rodney?" John stared down at his hands. He flexed his hands, but they still felt wrong. "Elizabeth?"
"Rodney is fine. Carson released him an hour ago. You used your body to shield Rodney from the worst of it, but I'm afraid that meant you took the brunt of the explosion."
"I did?"
"You did." She looked about to pat his hand and John shoved his hands under the blanket.
"Oh." She covered her fluster well, and continued. "Zelenka mentioned some strange readings coming from the gate. He and Rodney are going over the data now. They're not actually calling it an explosion. They don't seem to have determined exactly what it was. Can you remember anything?"
"Yeah. It had something to do with ascension." John force himself to sit up. "Where are my pants? I need to go talk to McKay."
"John, I don't think that's a good idea…"
"I'm getting out of this bed, pants or no pants, Elizabeth. Stay for the peep show or not. Your choice."
That got things moving and she stopped arguing. She tossed him his pants. "Carson was about to release you, anyway, John." A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Sorry, no peep show this time around. But I still need that report."
"You'll have it. But I need McKay in on this, too. He's not going to like it, though, and I need time to explain it to him first."
"At least give me a hint," Elizabeth said.
"I remember stepping onto the planet. Blue sky, rocky terrain with greenery in the distance. All I got was a glimpse before we were caught in some kind of vortex." John paused. Schooling every hint of expression from his face, he added, "The vortex was a lot like the one Chaya used when she 'shared' with me, only this one had a lot more power behind it.
"One more thing, Elizabeth,” John continued. "After the Chaya incident, Rodney told me in excruciating detail about another ascended Ancient. Let's just say it wouldn't hurt to bone up on Dr. Jackson's reports concerning Oma Desala."
"John!" She sounded exasperated. "What exactly do you think is going on?"
He held up his hands in a peace offering. "I'll give you a full report, Elizabeth, as soon as I talk to Rodney. Or do you want to be the one to bring up Chaya's name?"
"God, no." She waved him out the door. "Go. I think he's in the main lab." With a hint of steel, she added, "Debrief in one hour. And John, good luck."
~*~
The walk to the lab seemed interminable. At least he didn't have to stop and lean against the wall, no matter how badly he wanted to. The hollow feeling of loss persisted, and he wondered how Rodney was taking their separation.
Well, not bad, apparently. Rodney and Zelenka had taken command of the lab and a half- dozen laptops. The two men were doing that thing they did – finishing each other's sentences – hand waving and finger pointing as ideas and spittle flew through the air. Ford had called it the geek rumba.
The hairs bristled on the back of John's neck and he took a step forward. Zelenka was standing awfully close to Rodney. Too close. And his eyes, his eyes were looking at Rodney in adoration. Any minute he was going to reach out and touch him, touch Rodney – John fought back a growl.
He rubbed his eyes, and normalcy resumed. What the hell was wrong with him? The only expression on Zelenka's face was a frown as he crossed out an equation on the whiteboard. He barely looked in Rodney's direction, and it sure as hell wasn't with a look of adoration.
Maybe it was time to find someone to date if he was going to start being jealous of Rodney fucking McKay. Yeah, that was probably it. Now that he thought about it, John realized he hadn't cozied up with a woman since Chaya, and that brought him back to the immediate problem.
"Hey, McKay, got a minute?"
"Sheppard!" Rodney beamed at him and took a step forward. "We've almost got it. We should be able to resume gate travel in a few…what is it?"
"Dr. Zelenka, maybe it's time for your break?" John asked. The look on his face must have been persuasive because Zelenka high-tailed it out of there so fast he tripped over a stool.
"Finally out of the infirmary, I see," Rodney said. "I imagine you're glad to know we're not going to die, not that you don't have the nine lives of a cat, but at least you're not using one up this time. I've made Carson run all the tests. No radiation, nanites, naquadah poisoning, or vacuum narcosis. And while my back will never be the same, well, I suppose I should thank you for putting yourself in the way and saving me from worse injuries."
"Vacuum narcosis. Is that even a thing?" John asked.
"It could be." The twinkle died out of Rodney's eyes. "Or maybe the Ancients were just messing with us, again."
"I'd call that assumption on the money. Ah, – shit, there's no good way to say this, but I told Elizabeth I'd get this cleared up before the briefing." John shoved his hands in his pockets, ducked his head and looked up at Rodney through the fringe of his hair.
"Do not give me that – that – look! I'm not Elizabeth and your – Trouble? I don't know what you mean by trouble? look will not work on me, Sheppard."
"Fine. I'll get to the point. Do you remember the tentacle-like energy streams Chaya used on the Wraith?" John was not about to mention the glowy sharing between himself and Chaya.
"You mean like the glowy, alien, tentacle sex you had with that ascended hussy? Jesus, Sheppard, this had something to do with that?"
"Calm down. How did you even know about – fuck, never mind. Look, I'm saying it was kind of like that, but I don't think Chaya had anything to do with it."
"Oh, joy. You've got another horny Ancient trying to cop a feel. Just what we needed."
"Rodney!"
"Right. You were saying, glowy, ascended power – lots of power. It would have to be to engage the gate and throw us back through it with that kind of force. Hmm. I presume you think it had something to do with ascension because of the mental walk-through?"
"Yeah." John waited to see if Rodney had more to say, but he remained suspiciously quiet. On one hand, he was grateful Rodney wasn't ranting about Chaya, but Rodney was acting like it was no big deal that they'd been roaming around inside each other's heads. That was all kinds of wrong.
It left John feeling like he'd imagined the whole thing, only he knew better. Even now, his body felt out of control. He had to keep his hands tucked under his arms just to keep from reaching out to touch Rodney. He grit his teeth. Fine, let McKay play it that way.
~*~
The next few days John spent trying to get back to a normal routine. A normal feeling of anything would have been a relief. It wasn't like he was drifting along, he was fucking trying to get past this.
Gut-aching lonely for one grumpy, mouthy astrophysicist too busy to give him the time of day, John pulled up the Atlantis equivalent of the little black book; a compatibly /eligibility program written by one of the scientists.
Example one: Teyla. Compatible with everyone but only eligible with Peter Grodin and Elizabeth Weir. Huh. Well hell, he hadn't seen that one coming. Determined to see this through, he started scrolling down to the letterS. Heck, maybe he'd luck out and pair up with the cute brunette nurse with the big… well, anyway, it didn't hurt to check.
~*~
Operation: Date Night never got off the ground. Oh, they'd been plenty of names on the list. Enough to keep him busy. Sadly, when it came right down to it, even the women that were totally his type had lost their appeal. Even the nurse with the perky – dimples looked insipid and irritating to be around next to Rodney.
John refrained from pounding his head against the desk. This was getting ridiculous. There had to be some way to fix it. As it was, he'd date Rodney in a heartbeat if he were a girl. But he was a guy and…did it matter?
Now, that was a new thought. Going from friends to lovers with another man, did he want that? He rolled the idea around in his brain. Huh, seems he did. John didn't waste time arguing with himself. He wanted Rodney, plain and simple, with a soul-deep ache that wouldn't let him rest.
So, why wasn't Rodney as affected? Suddenly he knew. That lying son-of-a-bitch. John was tempted to give himself a thwap in the head for missing the obvious. Of course Rodney was affected, but for some reason he was hiding it.
Why? Was it the guy-on-guy thing? Hm, unlikely. It might have thrown John for a loop – briefly – but he knew for a fact, after his little jaunt through Rodney's psyche, that gender preference wasn't one of the man's issues.
Now then, what did he do about it?
~*~
He stepped out of the shower, rubbed the towel over his wet hair and decided he'd waited to talk to Rodney long enough. Having a mandatory rest day didn't mean much to the scientists, Rodney in particular, especially with the Stargate still down for repairs. John knew exactly where he'd find him this morning – running tests in the gate room.
He wasn't keen on having this particular conversation in front of a gaggle of scientists or anyone else, but if he hurried, he might be able to catch Rodney in his quarters before breakfast. John paused, t-shirt in hand, and debated the merit of trying to have any kind of conversation with a pre-caffeinated McKay.
New plan. Stop by the mess first and pick up coffee to bring with him. A lot of it. He'd just finishing dressing when there was a ping at his door.
"Sheppard, it's me. Can I come in?"
"Rodney?" John opened the door to see Rodney standing there, looking like he hadn't slept for a week. "Come in. Oh cool, you brought coffee!"
"Yes, well, ah…we need to talk."
Rodney sat the carafe of coffee down on John's bed stand while John pulled down a couple of mugs from the shelf.
Pulling up a chair, Rodney angled it to sit within inches of the bed stand. "What? You haven't got a decent table in here."
"No, no, Make yourself at home. While you're at it, maybe you could call me John?"
"John. Yes. Fine. Uh, look, you're probably not going to believe this –. "
"Oh, I think I might, Rodney. In fact, I was just on my way to talk to you." John handed him the mug and waited until Rodney had his first swallow of coffee. One of the fun parts of having early morning coffee with Rodney was watching the caffeine bliss spread over his face.
"I see you brought the good stuff," John said, giving him a cheery salute with his mug.
"God, of course you'd be chipper at this hour." Rodney glared at him over the rim of his coffee mug.
"So, talk."
Rodney rubbed his eyes. "I can't get any work done. Yesterday I tried to access the gate schematics from the chair. I couldn't get it to respond at all. Something about a malfunction-incomplete connection. Radek has no idea what caused it either. My concentration is shot and I'm pretty sure all of this is your fault. You and your interfering ascended girlfriend."
John poured his own coffee and sat on the edge of the bed, "Nope. That's not why." He didn't even try to keep the smirk off his face when he added, "And if there is an ascended Ancient that's responsible, you can bet my ass she is not my girlfriend."
Rodney stared at him, mouth open.
"You want the perks, so do I. Stop denying it."
"The perks? I don't know what you mean by…." Rodney's denial dropped off mid-sentence. John watched, as his face just seemed to crumple in defeat.
"Why have you been avoiding me? Don't think it's – we're worth it?" John asked, gently.
"We still don't know what it is."
"I think we know enough."
"Enough, what, Sheppard? That something in that energy beam changed us, that we're some kind of soul mates now?"
"I'm not sure I'd call it soul mates." John paused. "We can name it later."
"It hurt me," Rodney quietly admitted, "when we were ripped apart. That's what it felt like – being ripped in two. And then, the first time you're out of the infirmary and we actually have a chance to talk, it's all about your jollies with ascended women."
"I wouldn't call it jollies….”
Rodney stiffened his chin and actually put his coffee mug down long enough to cross his arms over his chest.
John shook his head over the self-protective stance. "Jesus, Rodney, do you even pay attention to what your own brain is telling you? How can you think I'd want anyone else?"
"Even knowing we were manipulated? Possibly reengineered on a genetic level. . . to bond? Doesn't that bother you?" Rodney asked.
"Did Carson suggest that? Because from what I can tell, the experience only enhanced something that was already there. We both ignored it until now. Rodney? I'm right, aren't I?" John motioned between them as if he could will Rodney to come closer. "There's been something between us since the day we met and you know it. I can see it on your face."
"Admit that I've never met or will meet again anyone that fits me so perfectly?" Rodney's expression lightened and he looked at John with the hint of a smile in his eyes. "Doesn't that seem the least little bit crazy to you?"
"Yeah." John moved over to Rodney and pulled him up from the chair. Even that casual touch had his senses reeling. "As crazy as everything thing else in this galaxy. Doesn't make it any less true."
"You mentioned perks?" Rodney asked, sounding too uncertain for John's liking.
"Perks. Lots of them. A variety of perks." He ran his hands up Rodney's arms and drew him in closer, kiss-close, and shuddered at the feel of Rodney's warm breath against his cheek.
Rodney put his arms around John. "This good?"
"Very." John swallowed thickly. Rodney was touching him, holding him like something precious. When Rodney started nuzzling his ear with his warm, mobile mouth, John leaned his head back and went with it. Well damn, figuring out how this soul bond thing worked might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.
For the first time he could admit, just maybe, that the Ancients were onto something, after all.
~*~
Rating: PG
WC: 4100
Beta:
mezzo_cammin AO3 Link
This fic was born out of these two prompts from last year.
28.The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.
-- Rumi, The Essential Rumi
29.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
-- Pablo Neruda, One Hundred Love Sonnets: XV
A blast of sound and light overwhelmed John's senses. He made a grab for something, anything to break his imminent fall, but only clutched at empty air. God damn it. If he couldn't save himself, he couldn't save Rodney. They'd walked through the gate together, just seconds ago. He had to be nearby and hurting as badly as he was.
John tried to make sense of his surroundings but his screwy perceptions threw everything off. Light became a roaring sound so bright he had to keep his eyes tightly shut. He couldn't hear a damn thing over the noise.
He couldn't see, couldn't hear, and his spatial sense was completely screwed. Only the awareness that the blood wasn't rushing to his head assured him that he wasn't hanging upside down. He had no idea what side of the gate they were on and, oh yeah, couldn't find McKay. John forced himself to concentrate on what he did know.
They were checking out a planet as a possible alpha site. Bored and expecting it to be a cakewalk, he’d volunteered himself and McKay. The side plan was to get Rodney away from the city for some target practice and, for once, he hadn't argued.
Likely, their new Satedan teammate had something to do with that. Ronon's gruff threat to train him if John didn't certainly seemed to have an effect. Either way, he and Rodney were the only ones who had gone through the gate and gotten caught in the blowback.
Feeling began coming back to his hands and John’s knuckles brushed against what had to be Rodney's tack vest. He grabbed onto it, shaky with relief. "McKay – Rodney?" Keeping a tight grip on the only anchor he had in this mess, John leaned in and caught a strong whiff of coconut. Relief washed through him. "No more teasing you about your homemade sunscreen, buddy. Promise."
John gave the tack vest an awkward pat. "Are you okay? Do you know what happened? Oh fuck, I can't hear a thing and you probably can't, either." Carefully, he reached up and pressed his fingers against Rodney's throat, feeling for his pulse.
It felt strong and steady but slower than he expected for someone with Rodney's tendency to panic. Alive then, but likely unconscious; which was going to throw a monkey wrench in John's plans to tap out Morse code to communicate. "Always got to make things difficult, don't you? Your ego is letting me down here, McKay, and I don't intend to let you forget it. Of course, I might be able to figure it out on my own if I had two minutes of quiet."
The roaring light around him faded. Sense-blind and reeling, John fell. Off balance, and grappling for his footing, he held onto McKay with a death-grip as again, his surroundings shifted.
This time he could see, and yeah, he recognized this place. He should. He'd stumbled into his own psyche. Well, fuck. At least now he had a clue about what happened, because this situation had Ancient, ascended-wannabe screw-up written all over it.
He stood beside a deep well surrounded by – John was loathe to use the word junkyard so he was going with collector's items. Oh yeah, he recognized it all right; from the burned helicopter husk to the dusty wedding ring. If he turned, he was certain he'd see a pegboard with a row of blood-stained dog tags hanging in a tidy row.
He didn't turn around. He didn't particularly care to explore his own psyche, thank you very much. Nevertheless, something felt different, almost comfortable.
Always before, his personal landscape contained a minefield of harsh, brittle edges and gaping hollows. They weren't gone, not exactly, but it did look like someone had stepped in and smoothed out the broken cracks – taking the shattered parts and making them whole.
Probing further, he could feel the ache of old memories, a dull and colorless thing compared to the pain he expected. Even the spaces he normally shied away felt settled. Settled, complete, and embraced in understanding. It would freak him out if it didn't feel so damn good.
It took time to recognize where this healing came from and, when he did, it gave him another shock to add to his growing list. It came from Rodney. Fucking Dr. Rodney McKay had somehow messed around in his head. Hell, couldn't that man leave anything alone? Oh god, Rodney. Refusing to panic, John pulled himself back to the physical plane.
Blinded again by white noise and vertigo, he reached out for what he could feel and gently slapped Rodney's cheek. "I need you to wake up, buddy. Not that I don't appreciate the total acceptance thing, but I’m getting desperate for some answers here."
When he got no response, he started to worry in earnest. He had to do something.
Looking into Rodney's mental psyche was something he'd just as soon stay away from. John knew the man was a veritable warehouse of neuroses. Still, it might be the only way to wake him up. Clearly, Rodney had found a pathway to John's mind, so how hard could it be to traverse it in reverse? "Damn it, McKay, I wish I could look inside that big brain of yours and see how to get out of this mess."
Suddenly he was there, with Rodney's psyche spread out in front of him. It was a calmer place than he ever would have guessed and John got lost for a while, fascinated by what he was seeing.
One corner had an aquarium with miniature whales and a list of feeding times taped to the side. He saw rows of drawers, each neatly labeled. Sitting on top was a basket of lemons and oranges; each piece of fruit carefully vacuumed sealed. John shook his head. Leave it to Rodney to organize his neuroses. Whales and lemons he could understand but he had no idea why Rodney had a baby grand piano in pristine condition, reflecting back a light so bright it hurt to look at.
There were none of the fractures John expected to see – only on closer inspection, clearly, they'd existed once. Like his own psyche, all the rough edges had been smoothed out and filled with something that felt like acceptance. John's acceptance. He could read his past presence here as clearly as grease on a windshield.
As if it weren't already weird enough, the fixed pieces here were a mirror image of his own, as though they were designed to fit together. Oh yeah, there was definitely some ascended shit at work here.
He walked over to the one messy spot in the room. Pieces of metal and gears sat around a table that had blueprints spread over it. Rodney was building a Ferris wheel - for John. Not ready to think about what that might mean, he backed off.
Before he could think, he heard Rodney groan, a purely physical sound that pulled John back to the real world. The interference was gone and he could hear people talking above his head. John couldn't make out the words at first but could hear the timbre of shock and concern in their voices. He tightened his grip on Rodney. McKay made a hell of an anchor.
"Infirmary, now!"
That sounded like Carson. John opened his eyes. They were in the gate room and he was on the floor lying halfway across Rodney's chest. Oh, well that would explain why he heard the voices coming from above him. Rodney must have broken John's fall when they'd been blown back through the gate.
"I can't get them separated, Dr. Beckett. Not without the risk of breaking Colonel Sheppard's fingers."
"Oh for the love of…I'll handle it, Corporal. Run on ahead and make sure the infirmary is ready for us. Set up the quarantine room and be prepared to shove two cots together, just in case."
Carson spoke firmly in John's ear. "You have to let go, Colonel. Can you hear me? Do you know what's happening to you and Rodney? Colonel?"
"Nnghh." John figured that was a pretty good answer under the circumstances. Why couldn't he let go? He understood the words. Sent the right signals to his brain for his hand to unclench, but his body rebelled, refusing to go back to being alone.
"Do your best to get them on the gurney together," Carson directed. "Aye, Rodney's back won't be grateful for it, but hopefully he won't have to put up with it long."
John could bless Carson's Scottish heart for taking in the scope of the situation and not forcing a separation here.
"Chuck," Elizabeth commanded, "raise the shield and shut down power to the gate. And get Dr. Zelenka up here. I want to know exactly what happened. Sargent Bates! Double security until we can be certain we're not under some kind of attack."
John overheard Elizabeth's commands as Carson wheeled them from the gate room. Silently, he approved. While he had his doubts about it being an attack, anything that took out the military's commanding officer and the head scientist in one blow needed to be taken damned seriously.
John cracked his eyes open, head groggy but pain-free. Elizabeth's face swam into view.
"It's good to see you awake, John. Can you tell us what happened?" she asked.
He couldn't do this now – here, with so many voices clamoring around him. Someone had pulled them apart with a painful wrench that he still felt in his bones. Remembering Rodney's moan of pain, he hadn't liked it much either. It took long seconds for John to recognize the empty hand he felt was his own.
"Where's Rodney?" John stared down at his hands. He flexed his hands, but they still felt wrong. "Elizabeth?"
"Rodney is fine. Carson released him an hour ago. You used your body to shield Rodney from the worst of it, but I'm afraid that meant you took the brunt of the explosion."
"I did?"
"You did." She looked about to pat his hand and John shoved his hands under the blanket.
"Oh." She covered her fluster well, and continued. "Zelenka mentioned some strange readings coming from the gate. He and Rodney are going over the data now. They're not actually calling it an explosion. They don't seem to have determined exactly what it was. Can you remember anything?"
"Yeah. It had something to do with ascension." John force himself to sit up. "Where are my pants? I need to go talk to McKay."
"John, I don't think that's a good idea…"
"I'm getting out of this bed, pants or no pants, Elizabeth. Stay for the peep show or not. Your choice."
That got things moving and she stopped arguing. She tossed him his pants. "Carson was about to release you, anyway, John." A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Sorry, no peep show this time around. But I still need that report."
"You'll have it. But I need McKay in on this, too. He's not going to like it, though, and I need time to explain it to him first."
"At least give me a hint," Elizabeth said.
"I remember stepping onto the planet. Blue sky, rocky terrain with greenery in the distance. All I got was a glimpse before we were caught in some kind of vortex." John paused. Schooling every hint of expression from his face, he added, "The vortex was a lot like the one Chaya used when she 'shared' with me, only this one had a lot more power behind it.
"One more thing, Elizabeth,” John continued. "After the Chaya incident, Rodney told me in excruciating detail about another ascended Ancient. Let's just say it wouldn't hurt to bone up on Dr. Jackson's reports concerning Oma Desala."
"John!" She sounded exasperated. "What exactly do you think is going on?"
He held up his hands in a peace offering. "I'll give you a full report, Elizabeth, as soon as I talk to Rodney. Or do you want to be the one to bring up Chaya's name?"
"God, no." She waved him out the door. "Go. I think he's in the main lab." With a hint of steel, she added, "Debrief in one hour. And John, good luck."
The walk to the lab seemed interminable. At least he didn't have to stop and lean against the wall, no matter how badly he wanted to. The hollow feeling of loss persisted, and he wondered how Rodney was taking their separation.
Well, not bad, apparently. Rodney and Zelenka had taken command of the lab and a half- dozen laptops. The two men were doing that thing they did – finishing each other's sentences – hand waving and finger pointing as ideas and spittle flew through the air. Ford had called it the geek rumba.
The hairs bristled on the back of John's neck and he took a step forward. Zelenka was standing awfully close to Rodney. Too close. And his eyes, his eyes were looking at Rodney in adoration. Any minute he was going to reach out and touch him, touch Rodney – John fought back a growl.
He rubbed his eyes, and normalcy resumed. What the hell was wrong with him? The only expression on Zelenka's face was a frown as he crossed out an equation on the whiteboard. He barely looked in Rodney's direction, and it sure as hell wasn't with a look of adoration.
Maybe it was time to find someone to date if he was going to start being jealous of Rodney fucking McKay. Yeah, that was probably it. Now that he thought about it, John realized he hadn't cozied up with a woman since Chaya, and that brought him back to the immediate problem.
"Hey, McKay, got a minute?"
"Sheppard!" Rodney beamed at him and took a step forward. "We've almost got it. We should be able to resume gate travel in a few…what is it?"
"Dr. Zelenka, maybe it's time for your break?" John asked. The look on his face must have been persuasive because Zelenka high-tailed it out of there so fast he tripped over a stool.
"Finally out of the infirmary, I see," Rodney said. "I imagine you're glad to know we're not going to die, not that you don't have the nine lives of a cat, but at least you're not using one up this time. I've made Carson run all the tests. No radiation, nanites, naquadah poisoning, or vacuum narcosis. And while my back will never be the same, well, I suppose I should thank you for putting yourself in the way and saving me from worse injuries."
"Vacuum narcosis. Is that even a thing?" John asked.
"It could be." The twinkle died out of Rodney's eyes. "Or maybe the Ancients were just messing with us, again."
"I'd call that assumption on the money. Ah, – shit, there's no good way to say this, but I told Elizabeth I'd get this cleared up before the briefing." John shoved his hands in his pockets, ducked his head and looked up at Rodney through the fringe of his hair.
"Do not give me that – that – look! I'm not Elizabeth and your – Trouble? I don't know what you mean by trouble? look will not work on me, Sheppard."
"Fine. I'll get to the point. Do you remember the tentacle-like energy streams Chaya used on the Wraith?" John was not about to mention the glowy sharing between himself and Chaya.
"You mean like the glowy, alien, tentacle sex you had with that ascended hussy? Jesus, Sheppard, this had something to do with that?"
"Calm down. How did you even know about – fuck, never mind. Look, I'm saying it was kind of like that, but I don't think Chaya had anything to do with it."
"Oh, joy. You've got another horny Ancient trying to cop a feel. Just what we needed."
"Rodney!"
"Right. You were saying, glowy, ascended power – lots of power. It would have to be to engage the gate and throw us back through it with that kind of force. Hmm. I presume you think it had something to do with ascension because of the mental walk-through?"
"Yeah." John waited to see if Rodney had more to say, but he remained suspiciously quiet. On one hand, he was grateful Rodney wasn't ranting about Chaya, but Rodney was acting like it was no big deal that they'd been roaming around inside each other's heads. That was all kinds of wrong.
It left John feeling like he'd imagined the whole thing, only he knew better. Even now, his body felt out of control. He had to keep his hands tucked under his arms just to keep from reaching out to touch Rodney. He grit his teeth. Fine, let McKay play it that way.
The next few days John spent trying to get back to a normal routine. A normal feeling of anything would have been a relief. It wasn't like he was drifting along, he was fucking trying to get past this.
Gut-aching lonely for one grumpy, mouthy astrophysicist too busy to give him the time of day, John pulled up the Atlantis equivalent of the little black book; a compatibly /eligibility program written by one of the scientists.
Example one: Teyla. Compatible with everyone but only eligible with
Operation: Date Night never got off the ground. Oh, they'd been plenty of names on the list. Enough to keep him busy. Sadly, when it came right down to it, even the women that were totally his type had lost their appeal. Even the nurse with the perky – dimples looked insipid and irritating to be around next to Rodney.
John refrained from pounding his head against the desk. This was getting ridiculous. There had to be some way to fix it. As it was, he'd date Rodney in a heartbeat if he were a girl. But he was a guy and…did it matter?
Now, that was a new thought. Going from friends to lovers with another man, did he want that? He rolled the idea around in his brain. Huh, seems he did. John didn't waste time arguing with himself. He wanted Rodney, plain and simple, with a soul-deep ache that wouldn't let him rest.
So, why wasn't Rodney as affected? Suddenly he knew. That lying son-of-a-bitch. John was tempted to give himself a thwap in the head for missing the obvious. Of course Rodney was affected, but for some reason he was hiding it.
Why? Was it the guy-on-guy thing? Hm, unlikely. It might have thrown John for a loop – briefly – but he knew for a fact, after his little jaunt through Rodney's psyche, that gender preference wasn't one of the man's issues.
Now then, what did he do about it?
He stepped out of the shower, rubbed the towel over his wet hair and decided he'd waited to talk to Rodney long enough. Having a mandatory rest day didn't mean much to the scientists, Rodney in particular, especially with the Stargate still down for repairs. John knew exactly where he'd find him this morning – running tests in the gate room.
He wasn't keen on having this particular conversation in front of a gaggle of scientists or anyone else, but if he hurried, he might be able to catch Rodney in his quarters before breakfast. John paused, t-shirt in hand, and debated the merit of trying to have any kind of conversation with a pre-caffeinated McKay.
New plan. Stop by the mess first and pick up coffee to bring with him. A lot of it. He'd just finishing dressing when there was a ping at his door.
"Sheppard, it's me. Can I come in?"
"Rodney?" John opened the door to see Rodney standing there, looking like he hadn't slept for a week. "Come in. Oh cool, you brought coffee!"
"Yes, well, ah…we need to talk."
Rodney sat the carafe of coffee down on John's bed stand while John pulled down a couple of mugs from the shelf.
Pulling up a chair, Rodney angled it to sit within inches of the bed stand. "What? You haven't got a decent table in here."
"No, no, Make yourself at home. While you're at it, maybe you could call me John?"
"John. Yes. Fine. Uh, look, you're probably not going to believe this –. "
"Oh, I think I might, Rodney. In fact, I was just on my way to talk to you." John handed him the mug and waited until Rodney had his first swallow of coffee. One of the fun parts of having early morning coffee with Rodney was watching the caffeine bliss spread over his face.
"I see you brought the good stuff," John said, giving him a cheery salute with his mug.
"God, of course you'd be chipper at this hour." Rodney glared at him over the rim of his coffee mug.
"So, talk."
Rodney rubbed his eyes. "I can't get any work done. Yesterday I tried to access the gate schematics from the chair. I couldn't get it to respond at all. Something about a malfunction-incomplete connection. Radek has no idea what caused it either. My concentration is shot and I'm pretty sure all of this is your fault. You and your interfering ascended girlfriend."
John poured his own coffee and sat on the edge of the bed, "Nope. That's not why." He didn't even try to keep the smirk off his face when he added, "And if there is an ascended Ancient that's responsible, you can bet my ass she is not my girlfriend."
Rodney stared at him, mouth open.
"You want the perks, so do I. Stop denying it."
"The perks? I don't know what you mean by…." Rodney's denial dropped off mid-sentence. John watched, as his face just seemed to crumple in defeat.
"Why have you been avoiding me? Don't think it's – we're worth it?" John asked, gently.
"We still don't know what it is."
"I think we know enough."
"Enough, what, Sheppard? That something in that energy beam changed us, that we're some kind of soul mates now?"
"I'm not sure I'd call it soul mates." John paused. "We can name it later."
"It hurt me," Rodney quietly admitted, "when we were ripped apart. That's what it felt like – being ripped in two. And then, the first time you're out of the infirmary and we actually have a chance to talk, it's all about your jollies with ascended women."
"I wouldn't call it jollies….”
Rodney stiffened his chin and actually put his coffee mug down long enough to cross his arms over his chest.
John shook his head over the self-protective stance. "Jesus, Rodney, do you even pay attention to what your own brain is telling you? How can you think I'd want anyone else?"
"Even knowing we were manipulated? Possibly reengineered on a genetic level. . . to bond? Doesn't that bother you?" Rodney asked.
"Did Carson suggest that? Because from what I can tell, the experience only enhanced something that was already there. We both ignored it until now. Rodney? I'm right, aren't I?" John motioned between them as if he could will Rodney to come closer. "There's been something between us since the day we met and you know it. I can see it on your face."
"Admit that I've never met or will meet again anyone that fits me so perfectly?" Rodney's expression lightened and he looked at John with the hint of a smile in his eyes. "Doesn't that seem the least little bit crazy to you?"
"Yeah." John moved over to Rodney and pulled him up from the chair. Even that casual touch had his senses reeling. "As crazy as everything thing else in this galaxy. Doesn't make it any less true."
"You mentioned perks?" Rodney asked, sounding too uncertain for John's liking.
"Perks. Lots of them. A variety of perks." He ran his hands up Rodney's arms and drew him in closer, kiss-close, and shuddered at the feel of Rodney's warm breath against his cheek.
Rodney put his arms around John. "This good?"
"Very." John swallowed thickly. Rodney was touching him, holding him like something precious. When Rodney started nuzzling his ear with his warm, mobile mouth, John leaned his head back and went with it. Well damn, figuring out how this soul bond thing worked might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.
For the first time he could admit, just maybe, that the Ancients were onto something, after all.
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