When the past haunts
Chapter 1 The blood on my hands
A day after the events of Trinity. Rodney McKay Pov.
'It isn't fair, how every time I earn something, in the end I always lose it' I thought, Thinking of a past that I usually avoided thinking about. It was my mother's and father's anniversary and it just seemed wrong to avoid thinking about them.
I had always loved my mother. My mom had died from a car crash on the way to the store. She had been about to buy me my school supplies, when a drunk driver hit her car. She died. Sometimes I would catch myself thinking about her, every time I saw the ocean outside Atlantis it reminded me of her, the dark blue ripping water matched her eyes and her intellect.
Together my parents were strong and brave and loyal and Kind, but without his wife my dad fell apart. Eventually my father died of a heart attack, The doctors said it was from his drinking. But I had thought that it wasn't true at the time. His drinking only seemed to make him stronger; he hit me harder when he was drunk, at least.
He had always blamed me for mother's death, even more so when I let my unreadable mask slip to reveal complete outrage when he had started dating her.
Her, as in my step-mother. She was horrible. She would lock me in the dark closet for days, even weeks. No food. No water or barely any water. Then afterword she would give me lemon water, all aware of the effects it had on me. She liked to see my face grow puffy and my eyes to grow wide as I gasped for breath. I had almost died many times, once though I had lost my edge completely.
Jay had to save me.
Jay was my step-sister. Her and father's daughter. She was beautiful, with her mother's long glossy black hair and father's sharp blue eyes. She had nicknamed me "Robin". No matter how hard I tried to shake of the name, it stuck. My Step-Mother had locked her in the closet with me before, though most of the time it was either me or her. We learned to depend on each other, when we were hurt badly the other patched us up. We shared any food or water received and huddled together for warmth when the temperature got to low.
Once my step-mother went too far, no food and no water for three weeks in the dark closet alone. When my mother had opened the door and seen me unconscious she had shrugged and kicked me until I awoke, she had poured the citrus water down my throat and my shriveled up throat had given up and I had stopped breathing.
That was Jay had to save me. She had tried saving me herself before managing to steal mother's phone and call an ambulance, when I returned from my near death experience Jay was gone. I had screamed for months for her and when I finally found out what happened, I was very relived.
Child services had taken her and she was brought to a nice home with a nice family. The nurses had told me this as they shone lights in my eyes that seemed way too bright. They had said this as my dad and Step-parents were handcuffed and pulled away, into jail.
At first I had been confused when lots of leather clad people with guns had come inside to search for me and apparently others that I hadn't known existed, but apparently did, locked away in closets and dehydrated and starving.
Just like me.
Though unlike me they didn't have the need for a purpose, they had thought survive and that was it. Their mother's hadn't taught them to play the piano elegantly, or father's that taught them wonders of engineering.
That was before mother died and father betrayed me, when I had smiled at knowing jokes and laughed with friends. When looking at the stars was as natural as me playing the piano.
After the betrayal of my father, and then his death, and the death of my mother, after nearly dying and forcing to live without Jay. I only opened myself up to one person, my piano teacher.
With her warm eyes and bright smile. With the waves of blonde hair that so reminded me of my mother. She had loved my playing and loved how I would design small little doo-dads for her. I would also fix things easily. I fixed her cracked and soaked cell phone and she had seemed impressed. After all at the time I was only seven.
Then she was gone.
Gone, without a trace, disappeared. I had stopped playing the piano then. I stopped letting people in. I stopped being quiet and kind.
Instead I closed myself off from everyone, retreating into a world of science. For science became my solace. Science didn't leave you. Science didn't hurt you. Science didn't betray you. Science didn't die.
People did.
For that was the only reason that my piano teacher had left so abruptly why everyone else I had seen avoided me or looked upset and close to tears. I was smart, I knew what had happened, even if no one told me. She had died. She was dead.
Her death had been the breaking point. I let science control my life and hid all sensitive feelings behind walls, Built up all my walls piece by piece, with every vicious word and ignorant ramble.
And then I went to Atlantis.
The people there were so determined and kind, trying to break down my walls and get me to open up. They succeeded. I wasn't strong enough to resist. I began to trust them and care about what they thought of me.
Surprisingly they trusted me in return. Put their lives in my hands more than once. It was so unusual to have friends. Real friends. Not people-that-hung-out-with-you-because-you-more-interesting-then-blank-air, but someone who had liked to be around you.
Then Arcturus.
That stupid stupid project that had killed Collins. It felt like a rock dropped in my stomach. The guilt that was eating me alive returned and I bit my lip. In the heat of the moment I had forgotten the most important rule of his. No one else knew of it, in fact my mother had told me it and only me.
"The death of one may seem little if it will save many, but it causes destruction, guilt and pain that will forever reside in your conscience. You can feel the blood on your hands, Meredith, the blood never washes off"
Her words had been soft and by calling me Meredith, instead of Rodney, was her way of telling me it was important. I hadn't understood at the time why this was so important but had seen the sadness lurking in those beautiful blue eyes and, as her son, had felt the urge to make it disappear. I had replied in a soft and sure voice mumbling an agreement and asking for another piano lesson which had caused a little light to fill her eyes.
That was what was going through my mind as I stared at the waves crashing against the side of Atlantis. I was sitting on the edge of a unused balcony, my legs dangling over the edge. Unconsciously I glanced at my hands as if searching for the blood that surely coated my hands. Collins blood.
Collins who had been so alive before today, who had been whistling a quiet tune that I could vaguely remember learning to play the piano to many years ago. It had felt odd hearing it come from one's mouth in a piercing tone instead of a deep piano beat. Oh god he was whistling to deaths door.
Sudden icy cold shook me and I shivered wrapping my bare arms around my chest. I was wearing only a blue t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. I hadn't even noticed that I had accidently grabbed jeans instead of my usual pants, until now.
The sun had begun to set and an airy quiet had settled over the city, that reminded me all too well of being locked in the closet, feeling the darkness suffocate me, or was that the dehydration that was choking me, or was that citrus closing up my throat.
It took me a moment to ordinate myself- barely stopping myself from slipping off the edge as my hands reached for my throat as if to pry away invisible hands that were slowly choking me. A burning filled my eyes and for a moment I was back in that dreaded closet with the door slightly ajar, staring at the innocent looking water, it tainting at my dry cracked lips. I had known it was laced with poison though, just as well as I had known that the sneering face in front of me was daring me to drink.
But citrus water was better than no water, I had learned that once I had started to not drink the citrus-water they gave me.
'If I died of dehydration who would be the wiser' I had thought darkly considering not drinking it. But still I found myself drinking it.
I would usually grip in a white knuckled grip, a couple times the glass had shattered and glass had hit my step-mother's face. She had locked me in the closet with the glass shards still imbedded in my flesh. I had been holding it in my left hand slightly twisting it towards me, causing the most of the damage to assort my left wrist.
I was staring at the scars now. I usually put on complexion to hide the scars, people would want to know where I got them. That was just too personal to share, But now they are there in plain sight, The traces of white and light pink lacing my left wrist in jagged and ragged lines. There was also longer shining pink scar from my wrist to my elbow, where Kolya had decided to tear apart my wrist. I flexed my arm and watched as the scars shifted.
I imagined the scars being scarlet as if they'd show the blood that had been spilled that fateful day, or the blood that had been placed on my hands today. The scars on my wrist would never heal; as the invisible blood would never wash of my hands.
To my surprise I realized in shock, that my hands were actually bloody, Coated in blood that had resulted from me digging my nails into my palms. I uncurled my fists and watched as blood pooled in the palm of my hand, and then onto the floor, and then onto my wrists, and then into the water.
It was an awful lot of blood for just digging my nails into my palms, but then those fingers typed restlessly at keyboards constantly. I couldn't seem to force myself to even clench my hands to slow the bleeding and help it clot, much less stand and make sure it stays uninfected.
Then I found myself humming the same tune that Collins had, watching as the sun rose and my blood slowly clotted and dried.
It took me a while to realize that I had work to do and Zelinka was probably waiting for me in the lab, With a jolt I stood and used my arm to wipe of the blood staining the floor, Realizing that I couldn't feel my fingers in the process.
I walked straight to my barely used quarters and went straight to the sink washing the blood off my hands and arms, before changing my clothes and rubbing the complexion on my left wrist.
When I looked in the mirror I noted the lifeless and numb look in my eyes, a look that Jay had often had after being locked in the closet for too long. I glanced down at my right hand and saw that the palm of my hand was marred by four deep and wide indentions. The left hand not much better. I smoothed down my brown hair and wolfed down a power-bar before leaving.
My vision was slightly blurred as I walked towards the lab. I tried to blink away the fuzziness but no luck. I blamed it on how I hadn't slept last night, Or the night before that, Or the night before that. Plus I had lived off Coffee and Power Bars for the last three days.
Now that I think about it, it makes sense.
When I finally arrived at my messy desk I stared at it blankly. Usually it was clean, but when I had a big project my mind is to full off writing down ideas and working, instead of organization.
It takes me a while to realize that I am still standing at my desk and staring at it blankly, while Zelinka watches me. "Uh… Rodney?" he says and I blink a few times, keeping my eyes closed for to long for it to really be considered blinking.
I have my own lab so I vaguely wondered why he was here but, unlike I normally would, I didn't voice the words. It felt like I was back with my father where every word had to be spoken quietly and only as a necessity. Too many words or to loud words would cause for either a beating or being locked in a closet. Of course this was Atlantis so I tried to shake off the feeling.
It took me a moment to realize that Zelinka was speaking and that he must have been for a while because he was waiting impatiently for an answer. I blinked another couple times, only this time rapidly and with the thoughts, 'I'm really slow today…'
I spotted the coffee maker on the other side of the room and barely stopped the words 'I feel like a zombie' from passing my lips as I walked over to it.
When I had a steaming cup of coffee and was more alert I relised that Zelinka looked furious. "I missed the last five minutes of this conversation" I said and that did wonders for his mood.
"That's just it, you never pay attention to anything anyone else is saying." Zelinka said and I blinked at his blurry face with the thoughts 'I'm blinking a lot today'
"Anyway, as I was saying before, Elizabeth wants to see you in her office. Immediately, I'm not sure why…" he said and a slick feeling of dread filled me.
'Is she firing me? I did destroy 5/6 of a solar system and cause a death…' I choked on my coffee at this point of thought, causing me to burn my hand.
I hissed in pain and knew that it would be, as Ford had once put it, 'One of those days.' Oh god… I hadn't thought of Ford in forever. I had fallen into the habit of trying to avoid thoughts that would cause pain. However, lately I had found myself thinking about every bad thing I ever did.
I realized that Zelinka was wondering why I was just standing around when he had just said that the commander of the base wanted to see me immediately. When he spoke in a voice laced with concern I jumped in surprise. "Rodney? Are you alright?"
"Fine" I said through gritted teeth as I walked towards Elizabeth's office.
On the way the blurry world began to spin uncontrollably. Nausea filled me and black spots swam in my vision. I stumbled and leaned against the wall.
My throat went dry and my eyes burned. My breath was coming in ragged gasps and darkness scummed the edges of my vision. I slid down the wall, my head falling into my hands when my feet touched the floor.
I had felt like this before. I knew it was a reaction to the combination of, lack of food, lack of water, and lack of sleep. Since the project I had either been too busy or too lost in thought to eat more than a couple of power bars and I couldn't remember the last time I had a bottle of water. You know my horrible sleeping habits and the fact that I haven't slept at all in days made it even worse.
So here I was struggling to stay awake. Hell, struggling to breathe.
This is my first SGA Fanfic, So what do you think? Nothing happened much in this chapter but it explained some of Rodney's past, which I made up it has almost nothing to do with the show. Anyway if you all like it I will continue, if you don't... i'll probably continue anyway it depends on my mood. Please Review or favorite or follow -Leopardfang
DISCLAMIER: I don't own what I used from the show... obviously