Title: Four
Pairing: None
Characters: John, Rodney, mention of Ronon
Rating: T
Word Count: 240
Warning: Implied character death
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: This story is dedicated to two of my friends who recently passed away. One as a bystander in a gang shooting, and the other just last night by his own hand. While trying to rekindle my love for SGA to recover from this I stumbled upon this in my WIP folder. I'll miss you both, and I'm sorry.
Summary: This is what happens when you back a brilliant scientist into a corner.
Four
"Put the gun down Rodney!"
A glimpse of a military-regulation haircut pops up from behind a console in the control room. Sheppard knows there's at least three more he didn't see around somewhere.
Rodney shakes his head.
"C'mon Rodney, don't be stupid. Just put the goddamn gun down!"
A dreadlock or two swing out of the corridor just behind and to the right of Rodney. Sheppard has a sickening memory of Rodney's offer to 'upgrade' the Satedan's blaster a few hours ago. He wonders about the chance that Ronon had the foresight to grab the gun from Rodney's room.
"I know you don't wanna do this, Rodney."
"Of course not, you imbecile! You think I want this? This is the most dim-witted, ridiculous, and myopic plan I've ever thought of, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say you came up with it!"
The gun makes Sheppard too nervous to laugh.
"Rodney, just put the gun down, and we can figure this out. You don't need to do this, there's still time, we can still figure this out."
Again, Rodney shakes his head.
"This is the only way; trust me, I've definitely thought this one through, Colonel. This is the only way to save Atlantis."
His clear, blue eyes are so sad. Sheppard never wants to think of those eyes, or the way he says 'colonel' ever again.
He already knows he'll remember it for the rest of his life.
"Rodney, no."
"Sorry, John."