Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard could think of few things he'd rather talk less about. Holland and the failed rescue were his own personal guilt and should never have had anything to do with his team in the Pegasus Galaxy. He'd tried, hard and purposefully, to keep that his own private pain. But he owed Teyla the simple courtesy of conversation after what the two had just been through. After what they had all gone through.
Goddamned Wraith and goddamned Genii.
They had all been through hell this time out. Beckett was back, and dealing with his own guilt about whether his hallucinations had blinded him to the needs of a dying man. That was something that Carson would have to work through. Later. Right now, Rodney needed him. Rodney's plaintive and annoyingly repetitive, 'You shot me' was grating on the Air Force officer; he could only imagine how Beckett had endured the whining considering his own hurt.
And John knew his role in what happened; he certainly didn't need Rodney rubbing it in.
John knew that wasn't really McKay's intent. Atlantis' chief of science didn't understand how to deal with what had gone on, certainly not in his current state. They were all feeling a world of guilt right now, and Rodney's own culpability in the goings on were best hidden in the litany of 'You shot me'. If he'd managed to shut the thing down sooner, there was no way to know how many of the terrible events they had suffered these last hours might not have happened. John knew it wasn't McKay's fault: they had all been changed by the Wraith power generator and the Genii's mangling of it. Rodney, being the only one who could do anything about it, was just one more thing for him to feel guilty about.
John Sheppard was concerned about the reactions of his team after these events. Watching Ronon as he sat alone and laughed at Rodney's complaints; John knew that Ronon was laughing only because he would never cry. Well, at least not with these results. But if things had turned out differently…John didn't want to go there.
An arm on his shoulder interrupted his pain-filled musings. "Dr. Beckett is calling for you," Teyla said, worry and kindness together evident on her face.
John looked over toward Beckett and McKay and saw what appeared to be a slight struggle between the two men. He eased up, tiredly but quickly, and offered a short, "Thanks," to his Athosian team member before heading over to his two friends.
As he approached, he saw no accusation or contempt coming from McKay's face. He didn't need to see it…he felt it plenty without having it reflected back at him. He did, however, see pain. Lots and lots of pain. He knelt down and grabbed hold of McKay's left hand, gripping it firmly.
"Hey, I'm not thinking that fighting with the doc is the best strategy right now," he said lightly, though his heart felt anything but light at that moment.
"I'm afraid he's just bein' Rodney, Colonel. I thought maybe you could sit with him for a bit?" Carson Beckett asked, his eyes still full of grief. The man was clearly exhausted, and could no doubt use the break from Rodney McKay.
"You shot me," Rodney said as he looked John in the eyes for the first time since the shooting. John shuddered to think about how close that bullet had been to killing the scientist. He knew in his head that this wasn't his fault, but his heart ached at what might have been.
"I know. I'm sorry about that. I'm really, really sorry."
Rodney squeezed John's hand hard and said, "I know. It's just…I don't want to think…ow…um, I hope that this didn't mean…"
Shit. This was exactly what John didn't need. They had come through a lot, he and McKay. And Rodney finally seemed to understand that he had been forgiven and was important and cared for. His sister's visit, no matter how painful or embarrassing some of that time might have been for Rodney, had been the best thing to help move their friendship back to where it had been, pre-Doranda. Rod's presence helped, for sure. But Rodney's place on the team, and his position in John's life, was secure. And sound. The insanity of what had transpired on this planet would not mess that up, John Sheppard would make damned sure about that.
"McKay," John started, the force of his name being said making Rodney jump slightly. The physicist grimaced. John winced in sympathy and said, "Sorry. Didn't mean to hurt you." Sheppard paused, running his hand through his hair as he looked around their campsite. What a fucking mess this mission had turned into. "Look, Rodney, this," he waved his hand around, encompassing all of the terrible happenings of their time on the planet in the one simple movement, "none of this meant anything. It was a horrible, terrible, freaking mess. It sucked big time. I hate that I shot you. But you know that I didn't shoot you." He made sure Rodney was watching when he finished. "I would never shoot you." He squeezed Rodney's hand firmly to emphasize what was important now; how showing Rodney that he cared about him and that he regretted pulling the trigger was what mattered.
Rodney blinked, the pain and the pain medicine and the stress combining to weaken his planned argument. John's passionate speech was doing more for him at that moment than any counter-argument could. And he could have given John one hell of an argument, if he could just think clearly.
McKay blinked some more, a tear falling down his cheek and tickling as it landed in his ear. He grinned that grin that John loved to see, knowing that he'd been forgiven by a man who had been through so much yet still found it so easy to forgive.
"You look tired," Rodney said as he smothered a yawn, trying to hide from John how very tired he truly was. Goading Sheppard with 'You shot me' had lost all of the fun of the last two or three times. He'd pick that back up when they were both feeling better. And feeling less guilty.
John laughed lightly. "Truer words were never spoken."
Rodney's grin changed to a frown as he watched Sheppard. He didn't know any of the details of what John had experienced or of what had driven his friend to pull that trigger. What he did know, though, was that John was right on two counts: One: he knew that John Sheppard would not shoot him, and Two: they both could use some sleep.
"Make you a deal," Rodney began. John's eyes squinted in suspicion. "No, no, I think you'll like this."
"Okay," John said, tentatively.
"I'll sleep if you'll sleep."
John nodded his head and smiled. He unclasped his hand from McKay's and patted the injured man gently on the shoulder. He reached for a backpack, turned back to Rodney and asked, "Is this spot taken?" He placed the pack under his head and laid down next to his friend without waiting for a reply.
The End.