Title – Searching for Emptiness
Word Count – 18-20k in seven chapters
Genre – Hurt/comfort/angst. Rodney centric, gen. Set towards the end of Season 4.
Summary - After Rodney is brutally tortured, can he get back what he lost?
Author's Note – The sequel to my other fics Reavengeance and Reavengeance II. After a prod from crashbarrier to not leave Rodney still suffering like that! Although it's not necessary to have read either of them as what happened to him is explained within the fic. The second one ended with Rodney being terribly damaged, both physically and emotionally, after being captured, tortured and left to die by Michael.
He had some level of recovery at the end of Reavengeance II, but he was in a catatonic state for a couple of weeks, before he broke down and snapped out of it after Sheppard spoke with him on the pier. This is a continuation from there and follows the aftermath in more depth. Rodney may seem to be OOC in some scenes, but I went for anger (with bouts of depression) rather than woobie this time.
Cross posted on LiveJournal and FF Net
Chapter 1
Rodney walked along behind his team. The grass poked through the material covering his lower legs and he sighed in annoyance as he yet again resisted the urge to scratch.
They were heading back to the gate after a completely fruitless mission. No lifesigns, no buildings. Nothing. Rodney absently fiddled with his scanner as the sun beat down on him. But it wasn't too hot or too cold. He reached up and pushed a finger through the gap in his tac vest to scratch an itch on his stomach. But it wouldn't go away and he had to desist when he felt a bruise forming.
His legs were really irritating him now. "Are we nearly there yet?" he called. "I think I'm allergic to this grass."
John, Ronon and Teyla glanced at him, but their expressions were blank and they quickly turned their backs on him once more and carried on walking.
Rodney shook his head dejectedly and pressed a few more buttons on the tiny device he held. His hand suddenly spasmed and the shudder made him drop the scanner into the long grass. He lost sight of it and shouted, "Hey, guys. Wait up!"
They carried on walking as though Rodney didn't exist. What if there were animals or the natives had managed to hide themselves from his constant paranoid lifesign scans? Rodney pushed the grass aside and cursed as his arms got grass poked into them and started to itch and smart as badly as his legs and belly. "This is ridiculous."
He eventually found the scanner with a triumphant, "Hah!" But the rest of his team were distant now. As he straightened up and could look above the grass, he saw that the gate was near.
Rodney ran towards them and tried not to snag his feet in the grass and trip, clouds swiftly rolled in and soon veiled the sun and blanketed the world in dull, menacing grey.
Sheppard paused by the DHD and began to dial. "Hey! Wait for me!" Rodney cried.
Rodney ran faster, but his right foot fell into a pothole big enough for him to be sent flying. He landed in the thick grass which cushioned his fall, but he was winded, not only from the running, but from the way his back had just hit something hard and painful.
He pushed himself to his knees and was startled to find the rest of his team standing right in front of him, looking on impassively.
"What the hell's wrong with you! Leaving me behind like that. Isn't the whole purpose of having you soldier types on these missions to protect and look after me?"
John came over and placed his hand in the centre of Rodney's chest and gave him a hard shove. Rodney fell backwards with a yelp. When he could finally open his eyes again, his team were no longer there with him.
He stood up and watched as the gate shut down. His team were gone! They'd left him behind! Rodney walked towards the DHD, but just before he got there, it exploded in a shower of debris, sending him sprawling on his back for the third time.
Rodney huffed and shouted, "Well, that's just great. Absolutely top class teamwork right there."
He stood up and made his way over to the broken remains of the DHD. He might be able to salvage something, or at least wait for them to realise they'd abandoned him to die alone on a desolate unpopulated grass world with little food and water.
He felt panic creeping up on him when he realised there was no way the DHD would ever work again. Unless Atlantis sent a Jumper through, he was going to die.
He turned around and was met by a figure with short white hair and sharp teeth. The humanoid sneered and glared at him through yellow eyes. He said, "Well, it looks like it's just you and me, Dr McKay."
Rodney's heart constricted in terror and his eyes widened in horror. "Michael!" He reached for his gun, but Michael ran at him too quickly and pulled out a long, thin knife. He stabbed it into Rodney's abdomen, running it all the way through him.
Rodney screamed and fell.
Michael looked down at him nastily with another thin knife already in his hand.
Rodney carried on screaming.
"Rodney! Rodney? It's okay, it's okay. Calm down. We're here, you're safe."
Rodney opened his bleary eyes and was met by a woman with blonde hair drawn back into a practical ponytail. He blinked and stopped thrashing. "Jennifer?"
She let go of his shoulders and John let go of Rodney's ankles. She sighed and drew a strand of hair that had become unsettled during Rodney's struggle back away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "That's right. Another nightmare?"
Rodney nodded meekly. He suddenly realised that his hand hurt, along with his abdomen, back, legs and arms. He gasped, "Wh-what happened to me?"
John shared a meaningful look with Jennifer and pulled up the hastily moved chair and sat down. Jennifer refitted the cannula under his nose and behind his ears, and then reinserted the IV line Rodney had torn free.
John asked, "What do you remember?"
Rodney shook his head and then looked at John. "Y-you abandoned me!" He then redirected his confusion towards Jennifer, "Why are you stabbing me with needles?" He lowered his voice and growled angrily, "Haven't you poked me full of enough holes?!"
Rodney grimaced and suddenly he was assaulted by a vision of the interior of a Wraith Hive, so vivid he could smell the decay of flesh and blood all around him. There was fear and loneliness associated with it, but he didn't know why, and almost as soon as the image was there, it faded and he was back to the infirmary with John and Jennifer's worried faces peering back at him.
John sighed and looked away. "I know. I'm sorry, but you have to get better. You just have to."
Rodney merely blinked and felt himself slipping under from the drugs and exhaustion.
Jennifer taped down the new IV line and held his hand for a moment as she asked, "What were you dreaming about?"
Rodney furrowed his brow and turned his face away, shutting his eyes to avoid the questioning and pitying gazes of the people watching over him. For some reason he hated it, but he didn't have the strength to understand why, or to get away from them. Yet.
Dr Kate Heightmeyer sat in the chair and watched as Rodney slept and twitched. Restraints were attached to the bed, but were at present not holding him down. Reports were that he could become violent and aggressive during and immediately after his nightmares and the infirmary staff, any visitors and Rodney himself had to be protected.
Kate knew that no restraints would ever help Rodney to recover, so she had to find some other way to break through to him and make this new and altered, damaged Rodney McKay come back to himself despite what had happened to him.
His unsound sleep ended in a gasp and small whimper. He cried, "Don't… no… please…"
"Rodney?" Kate leant forwards and when he didn't respond, she asked again more insistently, "Rodney?"
His eyes opened and he coughed with a wince. She held the glass of water near him and he sipped some using the straw. He frowned angrily after he realised what was happening and turned his face away in disgust at the attention caused by his vulnerability.
He then stared back at her blankly before he tried to move with a pained huff. His forearms above the sheet were well bandaged, and Heightmeyer knew that his lower legs and torso were too. The restraints Michael had used to hold him to the table pushed through his arms and legs, while Michael stabbed him and left tens of thin skewers in Rodney's gut to torture him for hours. One of his kidneys and his spleen had suffered too much damage to be saved. He was still on dialysis while he slowly healed.
Kate folded her hands in her lap and asked, "How are you feeling today?"
Rodney blinked, but his pale face remained otherwise unreadable as he regarded her.
She pressed him for a response. And based on how soon it was after Rodney had been brought back and woken up after his surgery, even just an acknowledgement of her presence would at least have been a start at this stage of his recovery. "I understand you spoke with John out on the pier yesterday. What did you talk about, Rodney?"
He looked back at her, but he might as well have been asleep, as he didn't respond or alter his unreadable expression. Kate tried for another twenty minutes to get some words from him, or any kind of reaction. But he stubbornly refused to give her anything to work with.
She would have go and have a word with John. If he could get Rodney to speak, then maybe he was the key to Rodney's recovery. She leant forwards and looked into Rodney's eyes as she said, "Well, thanks for your help today, Rodney. I hope you feel better soon, and I'll see you tomorrow."
As she left the room, Rodney muttered in annoyance, "I'm not talking to you, even if I'm stuck here until I can move again. Nope, not even if they tie me down like before."
John came by the infirmary later. Rodney was fast asleep from the drugs and his injuries, but soon woke up when John pulled the chair over.
"Heightmeyer says you're being a bit of a trial, McKay."
Rodney snorted and winced.
"Look, if you don't want her to help, maybe I can? We've got to find some way to get your stubborn ass out of here and back to normal."
Rodney blinked and grimaced. He ground out, "Not talking to an under qualified quack about my childhood." He scoffed, "Or my feelings."
"Ah, so you can talk. I knew it was in you. I know you don't appreciate anyone in the medical profession, but cut her some slack this time, alright?"
Rodney closed his eyes and turned his face away. "No, she can't help me and I don't want her too."
"Why the hell not, McKay?! Do you ever want to go back to work? You know: analysing new artefacts, on the edge of scientific breakthroughs all day, every day. Running around offworld, playing with spaceships and Ancient devices?"
"Blown up by Wraith… shot at… held... hostage…"
Rodney's eyes suddenly glazed over and he started to thrash and fight, like he was hitting out at an invisible foe. He smacked his hands against the bed, the wall behind, the table, and then upset the IV pole and tore the line out of his hand, spotting the white sheets with bright red blood. Like so many other things hidden below his surface, when Rodney McKay wanted to do something involving fighting, he was stronger than he seemed.
John stood up and held onto Rodney's shoulders, getting socked in the face and chest by hard and desperate fists for the trouble. He called out, "Keller!"
She came rushing over with a needle, but placed it on Rodney's bedside table and spoke soft words of reassurance and comfort to him while gently running her hand over his forehead and through his hair. Rodney gradually calmed down and came out of his involuntary violent state. He slowly stopped struggling. His eyes suddenly shifted from whatever he had been seeing, to focus on John and then Jennifer.
"Oh." He sighed in anger at his uncontrolled outburst and went limp and pliable in John's hands.
John helped Rodney to lie back, then let go and asked, "What happened there? Was it another nightmare? A flashback?"
Rodney ground his teeth and glared, but the pallor of his face quickly went an unhealthy shade of green just before he mumbled, "Sick..."
Jennifer grabbed a bowl, and with John's help, they sat Rodney up just in time for him to vomit into the proffered receptacle. He didn't lose much, because he had yet to eat any solid food. Mostly bile and water were expelled in the small amount he threw up, until he was dry retching and gasping for breath, the heart monitor beside the bed bleeping rapidly.
Once it had passed, Rodney sunk back down onto the bed again, shaking and weak. His sweaty face, neck and visible skin were so pale they were almost blindingly white. John gave him some more water which he sipped and then collapsed into the bed again.
John asked, "What happened?"
Rodney blinked at him tiredly. "Nothing you'd want to know and nothing I want to share. Ever. Now if you'll excuse me from your analysis of my many psychoses, I need to spend the next few minutes trying not to throw up again from the fun times that little bout caused."
He exhaled, moved his hands up to rest on the sheets covering his lower torso and shut his eyes, but John knew he was still awake.
"Rodney…" John sighed and looked away. "It's just… the bottom line is, if you don't get better, or even let people try to help you get better no matter how much you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge how much it hurts, you'll be sent back to Earth. I don't want that to happen, and I know for a fact that you'd hate it."
Rodney's face remained smooth, but John knew he could hear everything and he was listening. "We can't bear to lose you here. Not just for your brain, but for you as a person. I don't want you to go. Who else am I supposed to argue with? Teyla takes everything literally. Ronon would just hit me harder at the next sparring session."
Rodney opened his eyes and frowned at John curiously. He tried to smile, but wasn't very successful because he was so fed up with being stuck there. His eyes were burning like embers, even in the midst of how pale and ill his face looked. "Do what you want. You left me alone before, to die, I might add, in some excuse for an extinct civilisation's industrial estate. I want you to leave now. Shouldn't be too hard for you."
John stared at him intensely, "You know I can't do that, McKay. And I didn't abandon you. You were taken."
"Making excuses now?"
"No. But you know what happened. Think about it. I've got a feeling Keller's going to keep you in here for quite some time for you to do just that."
Not if I can help it, Rodney thought. Maybe if he annoyed them enough they'd have no other option than to release him, although it was pretty hard to get rid of anyone these days, John's stubborn refusal to go away a clear indicator. But he was damned if he going to allow everyone to fuss over him for hours and hours every day. He couldn't stand it. He could do everything on his own.
Rodney glared at John, but he didn't leave and he knew Rodney was too physically weak to make him. At least Rodney was angry and speaking now. As long as the anger kept on coming out and didn't turn inwards, John figured that he'd be okay in time.
He stayed there until Rodney's glaring eyes gradually lost the fire and his eyelids drooped and he fell asleep.
Once he was sure Rodney was unconscious, made obvious by the grunting snores and lopsided open mouth, John patted Rodney's shoulder lightly before taking up his sentry duty by his friend's side so that if ever needed anything else, he wasn't left to be alone when he woke. He vowed that no amount of McKay's misdirected wrath could ever shift him.
Michael was the one Rodney needed to rail against, but he was long gone. Probably manipulating more DNA as John sat there keeping Rodney company against his wishes.
