Author's Note: I watched Kindred the other day, and thought up this little tag. It's short... a little angsty, and a bit of cracky humor tossed together. It's Rodney and Jen (friendship) dealing with Carson's internment in the staisis chamber, from John's POV.
Rodney sat alone in his darkened lab, staring at the same screen of calculations he'd been looking at for the past hour. The numbers blurred back at him while he rested on his elbows, feeling tired and alone.
He'd lost his best friend.
Found him.
Then lost him again.
It hurt almost as much the second time around.
Even though he wasn't actually dead this time.
And technically it wasn't even the real Carson.
But he looked like Carson, acted like Carson, had all the memories and speech and mannerisms and nuances that made up the real Carson.
And Rodney missed him just as much.
His chest tightened.
The door to the lab swished open and he looked up, preparing to verbally berate whoever dared bother him at this late hour… but his mouth clamped shut when Jennifer walked in, letting the door close behind her.
"Hey." She said softly. "You busy?"
He thought about telling her he was insanely busy and couldn't be bothered, but he could see the faint traces of red around her eyes and the sadness reflected there. So instead he shook his head.
She stepped forward, setting a large bottle onto the desk next to his computer along with two short glasses.
He looked at the bottle, then up at her.
"Carson…" she cleared her throat. "Carson gave this to me before… before… Well he made me swear we wouldn't let it go to waste. He said it was a sin to abandon a perfectly good bottle of single malt." Then she smiled sadly. "But we're supposed to sip, not gulp."
Rodney snorted. Sounded exactly like a Carson Beckett warning. Ack! Ye don't slug it, Rodney! It's an insult to the maker. Ye sip. And savor the proper taste!
Jen opened the bottle and poured a healthy dose into each glass. She slid one glass to Rodney, and raised the second. "May the best you've ever seen, be the worst you'll ever see." She said softly, then clinked her glass against Rodney's.
Rodney was grimacing at the taste even before the glass met his lips.
"Hey." Sheppard nodded as he met Ronon at a hallway intersection.
Ronon grunted and fell into step beside him.
It was well after midnight and John had already resigned himself to a sleepless night. It had been a hell of a week. They'd found Carson. Found Teyla. Lost Teyla. Lost Carson. His heart didn't know whether to feel relief that they were both technically still alive, or pain that they were both gone again. It was like reopening a gaping wound and filling it full of acid before trying to sew it closed.
He'd decided to concentrate on the fact that Teyla was alive and he'd do everything in his power to save her. And technically, he wasn't mourning Carson so much as himself for his inability to do anything to help the man.
John hated waiting. Hated not knowing. Hated the feeling that he should be doing something – anything - besides wandering around the darkened hallways of the city feeling sorry for himself.
"Where we going?" Ronon asked, breaking John out of his self-pity.
John looked up, noting that he'd managed to propel himself in the section of the tower containing Rodney's lab. He shrugged. "Thought maybe I'd check on McKay. See how he's holding up."
When they reached the lab, the room was empty and dark, save for the small desk light next to Rodney's computer. The screen was still on, calculations running in some self-sustaining program, but the scientist was nowhere to be found.
Ronon picked up an empty glass from beside the keyboard and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose.
John reached for the second glass and swiped it under his nose. "Ah, the MaCallan. One of Carson's favorites."
"Smells disgusting." Ronon set the glass back down.
"It's an acquired taste." John returned his glass to the desk and looked around the room, half expecting to see McKay curled up in a corner somewhere, strangling the missing bottle. But the room was still empty, and John was still feeling restless. Although now he at least had something to do. Find McKay and make sure he was okay - because Rodney hated the MaCallan almost as vehemently as Carson loved it.
He walked out of the lab with Ronon at his heels.