Author: Lilas
Title: Skepticism
Summary: Rodney reflects back on how skeptic he'd always been throughout his life.
Warning: Spoilers for 48 Hours, Redemption, The Rising, and Thirty-Eight Minutes
Type: McShep pre-slash/friendship, Character Analysis
Author's note: My first SGA fic ever! Well, complete SGA fic. I've been meaning to write a fic like this for a while, but never had the inspiration to do it. And then lj user"nethdugan" started writing, and then the plot bunnies kept biting, and I just really wanted to try my hands on writing SGA. And of all the characters, it had to be McKay. sighs Please let me know what you think! This is an experimental format, so I don't know how well it worked.

Big thanks to Neth who beta-ed this for me! You caught some good things

He'd always been a skeptic. How could he not? Since he could remember, he'd had to prove himself: to his parents, to his teachers, to his colleagues, to her. No one had ever paid him any mind until he'd pulled the answer to the problem out of thin air and proven to those around him that he was right, that he hadn't just been talking for nothing, and that maybe listening to him might be a good idea. But no one ever listened. If he talked too much – something he was naturally prone to do – people sent him away; sent him as far away from them as possible.

That's how he had ended up in Siberia to begin with. He'd talked too much, been too much of a skeptic, been too much of a natural pessimist. But how could he not have been? The Jaffa had been stuck within the Stargate, and Earth's dialing device had been filled with so many flaws, so many loopholes; how could they have ever hoped to rescue the man without blowing themselves up in the process? Funny how things changed, funny how one person could change everything.

Samantha Carter had brought out the worst in him as he'd tried to prove her wrong in every way possible, tried to diminish her, tried to make her see she was still human and no smarter than him. People like her always did this to him. She'd reminded him of his mother, always contradicting him, never listening. She had always been thinking she knew what was best for everyone without taking into account the lives of those she was affecting, but of whom she didn't care. So he'd taken out the big guns and tried to flirt with her, finding her attractive enough despite her flaws; flaws he acknowledged she possessed, but of which she seemed dumb about. In the end, all he'd managed to achieve was one pissed off Major and one angry General.

So he'd been shipped to Siberia as punishment. To this day he was still trying to figure out if he'd been sent there because he didn't give the Jaffa a chance to live, or because he'd pissed off one of the General's protectorates. Either way, he'd been stuck in that hell hole for a few months before confronting the beauty once more, and this time, he wasn't so mad. Well, no, he was, but he managed to somehow control himself. In the end, despite his shouting, and his insults and his panic attacks, he'd kind of earned her respect. He'd gone back to Siberia a little less mad with life, a little happier, and a little snarkier. How could he not when he was going back to deal with people who drank 200 over proof alcoholic beverages for their 4 o'clock tea?

And then, a few months later, he'd gotten his first phone call by a girl in years. She'd asked him if he wanted out of his ice hell, if he wanted some adventure, if he wanted to come back to work for Stargate Command. She'd asked him if he wanted to have the opportunity to travel through the Stargate. She's asked him if he wanted to be in charge of the Atlantis science team. She'd told him he was the only logical choice; the only choice she thought was capable of doing it since she was too busy to handle the team herself. He'd told her to deflate her ego and that he was much better qualified than her for the post, and that of course he was the only logical choice–no one else on the planet had enough neurons to make the necessary ingenious leaps.

She'd laughed then, called him an arrogant, stuck up prick, and told him his plane would be there to pick him up the next day.

That's how he'd come to know Elizabeth Weir. She had been there to greet him as he'd stepped off his plane and onto Antarctica. He'd cursed, closed his jacket a little tighter around himself, and asked her why the hell they'd picked Antarctica as a research area. Wasn't it bad enough he'd spent almost two years in Siberia? He was almost starting to miss greenery. She's looked at him, rolled her eyes, and walked on ahead, leaving him to pick up his own luggage and make his way around the scientists and military personnel littering the place. She'd pointed his quarters to him, told him to get comfortable because chances were they weren't going to be going anywhere any time soon, and promptly left him alone.

So he'd gotten himself comfortable. He'd met Carson Beckett and harassed him to no end about the gene, forcing him to use it and show him how it worked. He'd met Peter Grodin and yelled with him about how Ancient technology worked, and why it was that the Ancients couldn't have had the decency to leave some sort of manual to the crap they'd left lying around. He'd worked with Radek Zelenka briefly, never actually saying the man's name because he could never remember it, but thoroughly enjoying his company. And then Daniel Jackson had told them he'd solved the mystery and that they were going to Atlantis. That was also the day John Sheppard had sat down on the Ancient's chair and with no effort at all had proceeded to light up the galaxy.

It was the day is life had changed. The Major had been recruited to the expedition, and a week later they'd stepped foot on Atlantis. That same day they discovered the city's lack of power, faced the possibility of drowning, and been introduced to the Wraith. Sheppard was promoted to senior military officer after the death of Colonel Sumner by the hands of the life-sucking bastards, and the Athosians had come to live with them. And a few days later, he had been forced into Samantha Carter's thought process as he'd worked to retract the engine pods, the Stargate's event horizon mocking him and his mortality as it threatened to steal everything that he had worked so hard to achieve.

In thirty-eight minutes, he'd felt as if he'd experienced everything Samantha Carter had gone through in eight years. He'd been shot at, he'd dealt with unknown technology, he'd seen as an alien bug slowly killed his friend, he'd been forced to deal with an uncooperative scientist who was more worried in making himself seem smarter than everyone else than saving their asses, he'd seen his friend die, and he'd tried a crazy idea which he had no way of knowing if it was going to work, but which, for his friend's sake, he had hoped would.

After the fiasco, he'd had a word with Kavanaugh, nearly punched him, and then told him that if he could, he would have sent the man to Siberia. No wonder General Hammond had shipped his arrogant ass all the way to the boondocks of the world. That same day he'd gone in to see Sheppard and he'd been asked to join the man's team.

He'd proceeded to bitch about how he was invaluable to the city and that his place wasn't to run around with the military and kill the Wraith. He was a scientist, not a trigger happy buffoon. He'd leave that to the crazy shit heads. Then the Major had argued that he was a crazy shit head if what he'd done in the Jumper proved anything, and that he wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd said that he wanted the scientist in his team; that he needed an expert in case they found technology they could bring back to use for the city. Then he'd said that the bitching and snarking would give them both something to do while on the missions and that it would give the inhabitants of Atlantis a break from McKay's insufferable personality. To which he countered to the man in the infirmary bed that he also had a personality as wild as his own hair.

It'd made the Major laugh, and cough, and groan as the stitches in his neck pulled. McKay had been frantic for a few seconds, afraid his new team leader would bite the dust because if him, but a hand was waved in his direction and he stopped fidgeting and fretting. After a few silent minutes, the Major had waved his hand and told McKay to get some sleep, told him he'd be needing it 'cause as soon as he could walk, they were going back out there. Rodney had snorted, pulled a chair closer, and sat himself down, crossing his arms across his chest. He'd grunted and told the Major he was demented, and proceeded to keep watch over the other man as his eyes closed without his accord and he fell back asleep.

At that moment, he understood Samantha Carter more than he ever thought he could. Everything he'd been taught by his family, by his peers, seemed insignificant in comparison to what the sleeping man had taught him in a few seconds. Everything he'd done in the past in order to prove himself, this man had shown wasn't necessary to make him heard now. He'd shown him that people in Atlantis were always listening, were always paying attention, were always following. It was a feeling he wasn't used to; it was a feeling he was having a hard time accepting without a bit a skepticism.

He'd always been a skeptic, but as he took John's hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze, trying to reassure the sleeping man he was no longer alone with the bug, he figured that maybe now, he could make an exception.