Discalimer: Stargate Atlantis belongs to Metro-Goldywn-Mayer Studios Ink. This story is a work of fiction based on the characters of the show and that is all.

Rating: PG13 for adult situations

Spoilers: Irrisistable, Sateda

WARNING: non-consensual, though it is not graphic

Authors notes: this is my first foray into the darker world of fanfiction, and though it only touches the surface of the situation presented it is still a very serious subject and should never be taken lightly.

Also thanks to the lovely Laryn for polishing this up nicely!

Summary: After Lucius's removal from Atlantis everyone breathes a relieved sigh and normality return. Except one individual was damaged more then anyone knows and is left to suffer the consequences in silence. McKay centric. Heed Warning!

Not Resistible

He stood still inside the door to his room, eyes drifting over the pile of dirty clothes stashed in the corner. His bed was half made, the sheets tucked in with precision but the blanket still lying on the floor beside, waiting to be settled in its place. He'd stopped John from cleaning only moments before, taking care to send him directly to Carson. He hadn't been able to meet his friend's eyes after he'd walked into the room to see him cleaning so happily. Eager to please. Now Rodney was truly alone for the first time since John had left him to go to Lucius's home world.

He didn't know what to do with himself.

He was feeling…he didn't know quite what he was feeling. Numb maybe? He stared at his bed, wanting to curl up on it and sleep forever, the blankets pulled securely over his head. He hadn't slept like that since he was a child and his parents…well, it didn't really matter anymore. There was work waiting for him in the labs though. Scans to run to make sure the man hadn't messed with any systems when they hadn't been paying attention to him the way they should have.

He didn't think he'd be able to sleep anyway.

He went to shower instead. At least he tried to, but as he stepped into the washroom he found himself hurriedly falling towards the toilet and gifting it with everything he had eaten that day. He didn't leave the floor for a while, choosing to remain as he was, taking shallow breaths and keeping his eyes closed as he tried to regain some self control. The Atlantian metal/ceramic was cool to his touch but warmed quickly beneath his knees and feet. He shifted around to seek the coolness, but it disappeared too quickly to be worth the effort. When he felt better he showered until he had barely any soap left, his skin felt like it might boil off, and his lungs were heavy from the steam.

He felt better. A bit. Not at all.

Sheppard was going to be pissed. More so than Carson and Elizabeth had been after they discovered that Rodney had taken the potion and had Sheppard eating out of his hand. Rodney dreaded the conversation that he knew was coming, the strong words he knew he deserved. He would have to prepare himself for the look of disgust in his friend's eyes, perhaps hatred even. Rodney hadn't been thinking about how the actions he had taken could be deemed in a poor light. Not truly. He'd just been thinking about how much Sheppard had been shoving their, their…their wanton slavery in their faces. The man had had no idea what it felt like, couldn't have possibly understood what his snide remarks could mean and Rodney had just wanted to show him how easily your self will could be stripped away. How easy it was to lose control without knowing it. He regretted his actions more than he could say and the longer he thought on it the more tense he became.

He walked past his bed on the way out of his room and went back to work.

By the time the next morning came about he hadn't gotten much sleep. Maybe two hours, because he understood his importance to Atlantis and how prudent it was that he had a clear, sharp mind. He hadn't seen anyone since the day before, nobody important at least. It hadn't been intentional, he'd just lost track of time.

He met up with his team at breakfast, a purely incidental meeting, and he froze as he found himself face to face with them. John was standing at the forefront of the trio, his pale green eyes glittering in the fake interior lights. Rodney took a quick breath and waited for John to rip into him, to lay out his hatred as he deserved. For a moment it looked like the soldier was going to do just that, but then he paused and looked Rodney over, a frown appearing and then quickly hidden.

"You look like shit, McKay." Rodney scowled at him, not expecting that comment in place of curses and statements of lines that had been crossed too far this time. He needed to rally around his surprise though, and being the genius he was he came up with the best response he could. The one he needed but somehow knew would never be enough.

"Sorry," he muttered, making quick eye contact and then looking away at the food line, as though what was there actually interested him. He hoped Sheppard heard the apology for what it was. There was a bubble of silence around their group for a moment and Rodney couldn't really hear them above his own breaths. Then Sheppard clapped him on the shoulder and he flinched, slightly, and scowled to cover it up.

"I bruise easily you know," he snapped.

"I know. Grab some food and come sit with us. We don't have that briefing for half an hour yet," John invited/ordered. Rodney wasn't hungry, not really. He hadn't been able to keep much down, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly agreed to join the people who still seemed to be his team. The fruit salad didn't look too bad. No citrus. He took care to pour two cups of coffee and he ignored the grins from his team-mates as he sat down without spilling a drop.

"Couldn't sleep, McKay?" Sheppard smiled at him, eyes assessing behind the humour as he toasted him with his own coffee mug.

"You try sleeping when you need to run diagnostics on every conceivable function of the city. Who knows what that maniac was doing while our backs were turned. He might have the intelligence level of a gnat, but it doesn't take much to accidentally hit buttons and set a timer for a system overload." He dug into the fruit and the melon juice burned down his throat. He swallowed thickly.

"We appreciate the effort you take to keep us safe, Rodney," Teyla nodded at him, then drank from her own mug of tea. He looked at her sharply, feeling the melon sit heavily in his stomach, like a juicy rock, and wondered if she was making a subtle dig at him. She had done so plenty of times in the past, making remarks in a joking or sarcastic manner that were completely serious. And vice versa. But it had been a long time since she had mocked him like that, and he truly liked to think that she respected him as a person now, so he decided to take her comment at face value. Yes, he liked to think he would always make an effort to keep them safe.

"Yes, well, good." He ignores them for the rest of the conversation, pretending to read important information from the computer tablet he has on him almost constantly. The words and diagrams began to blur after only a few moments and he found himself blinking often to remain focused.

He took a fresh cup of coffee to the meeting and sat down slightly further away from Sheppard than he normally might. Away from them all actually, feeling the need for some more elbow room today. He spread his few things wide around him and ignored the raised eyebrow the colonel shot at him, and how Heightmeyer had to sit a little closer to Carson around the curve of table than she was used to. She didn't seem to notice though, too intent on whatever she was reading.

He told them everything in the city was fine, deciding that they really didn't need to have a play by play of his efforts thus far. Weir had bags under her eyes and Carson's hair was sticking out more along the sides than straight up, which said enough about his energy levels. They discussed taking a few days to regain their composure, because it was embarrassing to turn into a bunch of starry-eyed followers on their own turf and some people felt time to adjust was necessary.

Therefore no missions for the foreseeable future, which would give him plenty of time to finish those projects he had running. Catch up on his paper work. Carson sat back and sighed, rubbing a hand across his face and digging into his eyes with more pressure than Rodney thought was healthy.

"We're bloody lucky that ended as well as it did," he said, looking around the room imploringly.

"Whole thing sucked if you ask me," Ronon supplied. And why was the big oaf even here? He and Teyla weren't apart of senior staff, it made no sense that they show up at this meeting. Then again, they were always around so he supposed this was par for the course.

"Aye, it did at that. But it could have been so much worse."

"It almost was, unless you're forgetting about the time you three almost got killed by Wraith while harvesting Lucius's happy weed." Rodney felt a cold shiver at the thought. Sheppard glared at the three culprits as though they had any say in the matter but Elizabeth neatly stepped in, nipping a possible argument that would have done nothing but emphasize how they worry about each other in the bud.

"I'm just thankful he didn't do anything more than have us fawn over him. As embarrassing as it is to say, I was truly ready to marry him. I would have done anything he asked of me." She looked a bit pale as she said this. Rodney froze in mid-grab for his mug. His hand started to shake and he pulled it back quickly.

"Yes, thank god. That would have been horrible. We can be grateful the man wasn't that much of a monster," Carson declared. Rodney stared at the table top hard, willing his hands to stop shaking. When they left the meeting there were relieved smiles on everyone's face as another potentially disastrous situation came to a final close. They agreed to not bother talking about it again…unless it was truly necessary. There were a few disgruntled looks tossed Rodney's way at the conclusion that all the plant had been destroyed and he glared at them.

"Who knows what kind of asset a plant like that could be," he put his best effort into looking like he actually meant what he said, knowing the argument was expected. He felt hollowed out as they all barked out unhappy answers at the remark and he quickly grumbled the agreement that it was over. Finite. Never to be used or thought of again. If only it were that simple.

Rodney showered again, and went to his mandatory meeting with Heightmeyer. It was mandatory that the senior staff have the first sessions with the doctor after any traumatic incident to make sure they were still fit to lead. At times like these he wished he were just a regular scientist, a simpleton who was granted access to doctors only after all the immediately important people were fixed. There was a time he had trusted her with his problems, at least to a certain extent. A time when he had actually sought her out to talk through the stress of Atlantis. Over the years he'd somehow lost his faith; through no fault of her own, because he knew she did her very best and had only the best intentions. Its just that there were some things that were his problem, and his alone.

"How are you, Rodney?" Kind, gentle words helped along by kind gentle eyes that pretended to care about what he had to say. She had listened to him babble on about so many things he doubted she heard anything true he had to tell her. Baffle them with bull shit, and when he got going he could spew out so much shit she'd be seeing brown for weeks.

"How am I? Are you serious? That man was a menace! I've been run off my feet trying to make sure this place will hold together. We're going to run out of duct tape soon if we keep going like this and then what's going hold everything together!" Question Answer Question Answer Question…

"Why did you drink the potion?" He cringed at the word potion. It was too simple of a description.

I needed control, only for a bit. I would never have done anything to hurt. Never.

"It was a joke. Sheppard was being an ass, so I thought it would be funny."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

…

"Fine. No, it wasn't. We've talked, its okay." Sheppard said it was okay, hadn't seemed too upset and was so far willing to ignore the whole betrayal in trust. How could he just do that?

"I see. How are you sleeping?"

"Like a log."

"No more nightmares?" She looked hopeful for a moment, encouraging.

"That was sarcasm," he informed her, because sometimes she was a bit too quick to believe what people told her. He supposed it was in the delivery. "The nightmares are still there and remain your typical run of the mill. I kept waking up last night thinking that the chefs were putting lemon in all the food because Lucius wanted something to entertain himself with. Can you believe that? As if they'd need that man's instruction to spike my food with citrus, because they've been looking at me strangely the last two weeks and I think they're planning something." He baffled her with bullshit and hoped she didn't notice that he'd momentarily brought that man into the conversation.

That night, long after everyone who wasn't working had gone to bed, even the diehard insomniacs, Rodney strolled into the infirmary as though he was meant to be there. The nurse on duty looked up, ready for action, as he moved through the door. She stood quickly.

"Dr. McKay? Is something wrong?" She looked like she was waiting for him to declare the apocalypse.

"No, nothings wrong," he waved her off. She looked relieved. "I've been meaning to come in and check some equipment Carson's been nagging at me to look at, and now is as good a time as any." He lifted his tool box and wiggled it in the air. She nodded and sat back down to her research, knowing full well that he often worked right through the night. He walked to the other end of the room and began to randomly check equipment, making sure they were functioning properly though he knew they were better than 100. When he came to the full body scanner he did a full diagnostic before lying down on it and scanned himself. When he stood he saw the nurse look away from him, a slight grin on her lips.

"What? I need to make sure it works," he declared. She agreed that it was important. He examined the data on his scan rigorously and then deleted all evidence of the scan. Packing up his tools a small knot unfurled in his stomach and he let his shoulders sag slightly in relief.

If there had been any evidence of any disease in his system it would have told him, along with the negative blood result Carson had taken earlier he now knew that he had a clean bill of health. For the first time in a while he actually felt hungry. He wondered if the Chef's had started preparing breakfast yet.

oooOOOooo

"Rodney? A moment of your time if you will." Rodney tore his gaze away from his work and looked adoringly at Lucius, standing so casually by the door and scanning Rodney's domain. Oh god he hoped it met up with the man's standards!

"Of course! Anything you need and I am your man," he stood quickly, forgetting his work, and followed Lucius out into the hallway. He wasn't oblivious to the looks of jealousy everyone gave him as they left and his step bounced even more. He walked along happily, listening intently as Lucius informed him of what a wonderful job he was doing in Atlantis. It was such an honour to be appreciated by such a kind and generous man! They stepped into Lucius's quarters and the door slid shut behind them.

"Be a help and lock that, will you?" Rodney hastened to the task and beamed at the smile he got in return.

"Wow, it really is great to be here. Is there something you needed? Anything I can help you with?" He bubbled at Lucius and couldn't help smiling at the openly happy look the man gave him at the offer.

"Actually Rodney, there was something I wanted to try and I thought that you were the perfect man for the job."

"Of course I am! Anything you need, anything at all and I am your guy."

"You sure are."

oooOOOooo

Freshly showered Sheppard wandered into the mess hall, still feeling the burn in his limbs from the extra long run he'd just finished. He needed protein and carbs and coffee and not necessarily in that order before he would even think about stepping foot in his office and tackling the mountain of paperwork he had.

Okay, that was a lie.

He needed those three things simply because they were tantamount to his survival, he actually didn't have any paper work to do. 'Git 'er done' was the way he liked to play things, especially when people like Caldwell were breathing down his neck at every opportunity. He found having all his work done at the earlier convenience left time for other more important things, like flying puddle jumpers. Never let it be said that he didn't have his priorities straight. He saw Ronon in the middle of the room, a table to himself. He nodded at the man who'd looked in his direction as soon as he's stepped into the place and was promptly ignored. That was as good of an invitation to join him as John needed and he headed to get his food.

When he came to the eggs Jeff, the omelette man, looked at him as he piled his plate high. John knew that look. John didn't always like that look, unless the man was apologizing for putting too many onions in with the egg. John raised an eyebrow in query.

"McKay was in early today," Jeff informed him, slapping more eggs on.

"Yeah? How early?" A few months before Jeff had begun taking an interest in McKay's sleeping and eating habits. It had been right after Rodney had shoved him out of the way of a falling pot of boiling water (the reflexes had surprised everyone) and saved him from what could have been some nasty burns. Now and then, when the man thought it was important, he informed John of these little habits the Canadian had. What he expected John to do about it he was still trying to figure out, but it was nice to have an inside informant.

"About five. Helped himself to some toast then left. Looked tired."

"Huh. Thanks."

"Enjoy the eggs." By that point he could barely see his plate from the yellow mass. Ronon wouldn't have to go up for seconds. He sat across from the man with a frown.

"What?" Ronon asked, almost sounding interested, eyeing his plate.

"You seen Rodney lately?"

"Not since the briefing yesterday."

"He seem okay to you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." John tried to find his toast under the mass. McKay being up at all hours wasn't unusual, but if Jeff was telling him about it then his friend probably didn't look too good. John had no idea what was keeping his friend up this time.

"I think he's feeling guilty," Ronon announced, startling John.

"Guilty? For making me clean his room?" Ronon shrugged, then drained one of his glasses of juice in a single breath.

"Being under someone's control like we were…it's not nice. He feels bad for breaking your trust."

"But we talked about that, I forgave him." Because McKay had looked so terrified of being beaten, probably both verbally and physically, by John the morning before that he had instantly taken pity on the guy. It was obvious he'd gotten no sleep and John hated kicking people when they were down. Even if they deserved it. Ronon just looked at him like the answer was obvious, and then picked up John's plate and took half his eggs.

John didn't see Rodney at all until well after dinner, when he randomly walked into him on the way to his quarters. McKay looked like he'd just gotten out of the shower, but the bags under his eyes clearly said he wasn't getting enough sleep again.

"What's up, Rodney," he drawled his friend's name, knowing the man hated that.

"Do you want the long or short version, because if you want the long you'd better follow me to the mess because I'm going to drop into a coma any minute now." Well, he sounded fine, just like he had yesterday.

"No version actually because they'll both take too long." Rodney glared at him.

"Do you practice being an ass or is it as naturally ingrained as your hair's gravitational field?" Rodney took half a step back, creating a bit more space between them. John grinned.

"I work at it as much as you do your hair jokes."

"Is there something you want? Hypoglycaemia is no joke, you know." He scowled, shifting on his feet and looking around John. He was beginning to avoid eye contact, which had John's own eyes narrowing in response. It looked like he needed to take the bull by the horns.

"You still upset about the whole drugging me thing?" He could have been smoother, gentler, but that wasn't how they flew. Rodney's eyes jerked to his.

"What? No!" He looked away again.

"Look, it's no big deal. I was being a bit of an ass about it, so I understand why you might have done it. Just don't do it again and we're cool."

"Is it really that easy? What I did…" Rodney trailed off looking absolutely disgusted. "I willingly took away your right to say no!"

"My right to say no? Where's this coming from McKay? You played a harmless prank, which I will get you back for one day by the way. There's nothing else to it." McKay looked a bit staggered and worried and angry all in one. It was how he looked a lot of the time around John.

"Seriously, that's it?"

"That's it. But if you really feel the need to make it up to me you'll join Ronon for a sparring session some time."

"I thought you said I was forgiven," he looked a bit horrified and John smacked his arm and grinned, not noticing the flinch.

"Oh, you are." He left Rodney in the hall and went to meet with Lorne. That should have cleared up any misunderstandings. Hopefully Rodney would get some decent sleep tonight.

oooOOOooo

"I wanted to try something new, something I've never done before."

"Really? I'm sure you'll be great at it! You're so good at everything."

"It's true, I can't deny it." Lucius looked really pleased with himself and Rodney was glad he was here, now, helping the man. "Rodney, have you ever been with a man before?" He stepped closer to Rodney and Rodney frowned at the odd question.

"You mean intimately? No, no I haven't. Not my thing really, though I have absolutely nothing against it," he hastened to add, lest Lucius take offence.

"And there is absolutely nothing wrong with women," Lucius smiled as though they were sharing a private joke, "I've had more then my fair share let me tell you." He winked.

"Oh, you sly dog! I bet you have them lining up around the corner."

"Yeah. Let me tell you though, it gets a little boring after a while. That's why I thought it would be neat to do something neither one of us has done before."

oooOOOooo

He'd been shot in the ass. Actually and truly shot in the ass, which was just so unfair. He was pretty sure he'd put up a big fuss about Carson or anybody else coming close to touching his ass when he'd arrived in the infirmary, but he can't really remember it through his morphine induced haze. He supposes the fuss was why he'd had so much of the drug pumped into him in the first place. Carson wasn't treating him any differently from usual though, which meant he hadn't said anything important. Thank god.

He hated not being able to sit down comfortably, and continuously reminded himself it's because he got shot. There is absolutely no other reason why his ass should hurt. There hadn't been for a few weeks. It was comforting to know that with the ancient technology they had Rodney's wound would be nothing more than a scar in a matter of days.

He could go back to being his self. His normal, cheery, unmarred self.

He worked long hours, until he began too feel faint and feared that he was getting sick. He couldn't get sick, he had no time to get sick! He had too much to do. He insisted that his blood be tested by Carson and was ordered, not so kindly, to eat more when the results had come back. Ronon had showed up at the infirmary and stood watch by the door. Rodney snapped at him, ignoring the puzzled look that Carson gave him. He realized that he might have been overly irritable, even for him, but it had been a long day.

It had been a long month and he just couldn't…he wasn't…he was having difficulty dealing with things. By himself. He didn't know what to do, but it was too late to ask for help now. He was past the point of aid, people would just look at him oddly and wonder why he hadn't come forth sooner. They would probably think less of him, accuse him of asking for it. Which, in the end he had. This was his problem all the way, and he thought he was dealing. But then he would realize that he really wasn't, and you can't always ignore the things you wished had never happened.

So he became irritable. Which he thought was a pretty minor response.

Ronon made him eat and then let him go back to work, which Rodney had called 'generous' with a sneer. Ronon rolled his eyes and wandered off. Two hours later he showed up at the labs and, without any violence or even touching, managed to have Rodney suited up in sweat pants and a baggy shirt, and at the gym. Nobody else was there.

Ronon looked at him and it made Rodney feel…visible. Did he know? Did he suspect what had happened? No, he couldn't, because if he did he would be disgusted with him. Not because of what happened (maybe because of what happened), but because of what he had done to John after. Taking away John's right to think for himself when he knew how far John would go to please him. It just wasn't right. He shifted on his feet and scowled insults. Ronon actually let him hit him a few times as they spared. Then he held the punching bag steady for him and Rodney, for the first time, felt a part of his barriers fall and let loose.

One of his knuckles bled. Ronon handed him a bandage and didn't touch him. Rodney avoided eye contact.

"How long are you going to force me to do this? Because as much fun as getting beat up and maimed is, I have important things to do."

"We'll do this as long as you need to," was the huge man's simple response.

That night he managed four hours of broken sleep. The next day he insulted half his department's lineage, made a marine blush, and ate lunch with his team. He looked Sheppard in the face and realized the man never looked at him with a hint of betrayal. He realized that he never had. That night, when Atlantis was closing down and only a skeleton crew remained Ronon showed up at the lab.

Rodney went with minimal complaint, hoping that tonight he wouldn't dream. He knew Ronon didn't know why Rodney needed help, only offered. He didn't pry.

It was all the help he needed. All the help he could afford.

oooOOOooo

"I don't think I feel comfortable doing this Lucius…" Rodney's heart broke a little at the disappointment in the man's eyes.

"Okay Rodney. I respect your decision. I suppose I could just go and ask someone else. Maybe Teyla or Elizabeth would be interested. Or Dr. Zelenka. He might want to help me out…" he didn't know why, but that was just wrong. Lucius shouldn't have to look for this somewhere else, not while Rodney was right here. He had come to him first after all.

"You know, actually, I don't think there will be anything wrong with this. Why not give it a try, eh? Doing anything with you is bound to be a treat."

"I don't know…"

"Please? I'm sorry I hesitated, I just wasn't expecting the suggestion. We'll be great together."

"Oh yes, we will."

oooOOOooo

End.