Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or places used. They belong to someone else. Also noted, this story needed a beta like a starving man needs nourishment, but I'm not cool enough to have a beta.

On a final note, the last words of this one-shot were a salute to a book – I'll write a story for the first person who identifies it. )

Summary: Episode tag for the Siege. Radek offers to die in Rodney's place.

Spoilers: Season One, Siege I, Siege II, Siege III.

Characters: Zelenka, McKay, Sheppard.

Author's Note: Just some snap-shots of the Siege, twisted for my own diabolical purposes. This is just a one-shot, written mostly for me because I know what it feels like to come undone, to hold the tattered pieces of yourself together with failing strength, to teeter at the top of that fathomless abyss with the knowledge that it will take just one last, simple push for you to fall over the edge, and the salvation of the end will come far too late, far too late...

If there's a way to a remedy, then lead me straight to it
If there's a path or a door I missed, then show me now, show me this
-Shinedown

Stranger Inside

By Bremm

Radek turned back to loading supplies in the case, still talking, but not facing Rodney. "The city still needs to be prepared. There are things that must be handled, things that you can do best. The self-destruct still needs modification,; I fear that the damage to the city will be insufficient and now that Grodin is leaving I have nobody to address the issue of the Ancient database, portions of which will no doubt remain intact after the self-destruct... It should be me, not you, that goes. It is, after all, fifteen hours to the satellite. That is ample opportunity for you to go over anything else I would need to know..." Radek continued to bustle about, throwing things in the box with jerky movements, and after a few not so subtle glances, Radek finally asked almost angrily, "Rodney?"

It should be me, not you.

The truth is not emotionless. Rodney hadn't accounted for that back on Earth. On Earth, truth was particles and physics. It was math and science and quantum mechanics, easily written out on paper and justified, whether by cold hard fact or informed theory. The truth was something Rodney thrived on – hell, something he was gifted with. His whole life he'd been able to look at anything and know some measure of the truth of it. How it was made, how it worked, how to take it apart or make it better. Emotion played no all-important role in the process. It wasn't necessary or essential. There was just the thrill of discovery, the exultation of a problem dissected and solved, and nothing more.

His first thought was that it was a ridiculous thing to say. What difference did it make, who went? Rodney was the obvious choice if they were going to have the best chance of succeeding. If Radek was implying that he had more knowledge of the satellite than Rodney, which was just ridiculous... but the Czech was nervous, his movements stiff and forced. His eyes darting everywhere but Rodney, like he was afraid. To volunteer to go in Rodney's place, almost like Radek was saying that he should go because he knew less, which didn't make sense -

Radek might as well have punched him in the gut, for his words had the same effect once the realization sank in. It felt as if all the air had left his lungs and he could only gap helplessly like a fish out of water. He felt the icy tendrils of despair grip him. No. No, not now, not in the heat of it all, the endless weary hours of one crisis after another when Rodney felt like he was coming apart at the seems. Radek's words sank in, digested slowly by his sluggish, overworked brain. The truth hit him full force, because there was only one way that sentence worked and he really couldn't handle it. Rodney could spend a lifetime dissecting that sentence and still arrive at the same conclusion. All his gifts for knowing and understanding came to the same irrefutable conclusion.

Like the almighty hand of god, this final statement came with no mercy or understanding. It should be Radek, and Rodney didn't have the strength for that.

Approached emotionless, the truth of it was simple. Rodney had his hands in too much of the city, a level above and beyond Radek. In a choice between the two, Radek would be logically expendable. The favored choice to leave and possibly never come back. It was Rodney who was irreplaceable. That's what Radek meant, on the chance that it was a one-way trip. Whoever went might not come back and Radek thought he should be the one.

After everything, after all the fighting, all the pain and suffering, he still came to this hopeless fork in the road. Choose a path, left or right, death at both ends.

"McKay?" Radek repeated again, and this time it sounded concerned. Rodney stood there, rigid, and he expected that the expression on his face must have been alarming. At any rate, that was the catalyst. Now he was concerned? Rodney felt a hollow desperation, please, this can't be happening – but it was. He was really going to have this argument with Radek. They really were going to play this hellish game of deciding who possibly lived or died. Damned if that didn't kill him on the inside. Damned if that cold thing in his chest that might have, at one point during this siege, been his heart didn't just wrap more layers of ice over itself.

No. He wasn't going to choose, he wasn't going to let Radek do this to him. He'd already decided his course of action and he refused to be second guessed. He glared at Radek and he must have had the fires of hell in his eyes because Radek's expression changed to alarm and he took a tentative step back. Rodney's chest was burning and he felt like he was suffocating, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Radek's face. He couldn't turn away.

"Radek..." he began, and as soon as he started to speak he felt the beginnings of anger, and a bark of laughter escaped his lips, "Did you honestly just offer to," another hard laugh, " die in my place?" God, it sounded stupid to say out loud, but there it was and there was no taking it back.

Radek blinked, surprised. "Die? No, not- Rodney, it would just make more sense for me to go-"

"Why, because you're more expendable than I am?"

Radek's own expression grew somewhat cross, and he replied, "That's not what I'm saying, if you'd listen. This isn't a suicide mission, Rodney, not for certain. However, it is a long mission, during a time-critical situation and it would not be wise to send you when there is so much for you to do here. I am perfectly capable-"

Rodney grabbed Radek by the front of his shirt and shoved him brutally against the wall with such force that his glasses jerked off his face and clattered to the floor.

The man looked petrified. Radek gasped something in Czech, but Rodney would never know what it was. He struggled against Rodney's grip, but it was useless. Rodney shoved his forearm against Radek's chest and unless Radek had a gun, he wasn't going anywhere. A year of offworld travel had hardened the muscles in Rodney's arms to the point where the scrawny man under him wouldn't be able to do much about anything at the moment.

Rage. Deep and black it coursed through him, consuming him, its path pre-paved through long sleepless hours and stimulants. The frayed tethers of his self-control were wisps in the wind.

"No, I think that's exactly what you were saying." The words emerged out of his mouth as a deep snarl, and he didn't even recognize the voice. This was a whole new level of being for him. A part of him was just as surprised as Radek, but most of him was just lost under it.

"N-no-" Radek stammered.

The rage was overpowering. Every soul-straining thing that had taken place since he'd stepped into this galaxy resurfaced, every individual agony, every ounce of pain and frustration. All that difficulty and strife, and now he had to do this. How dare Radek, how dare he...

Radek squirmed under Rodney's grasp and Rodney shoved. Radek exhaled sharply, his face grew pained.

He didn't loosen his grip on Radek's shirt. Rodney could feel his fingers growing numb and stiff, but he couldn't let go. What did he want to say? He could feel what he wanted to say, but how did he put his anger and hurt into words? How did he make Radek understand how close he was to whatever edge he was approaching and if Radek left and never came back, he didn't know what he'd do.

"I can't do this anymore."

That hadn't been what he wanted to say. The thought hadn't even formed in his mind before the words were sliding past his lips. And suddenly he couldn't stop anything. "I can't, I really can't. I thought I could at first, but apparently I can't do this."

"Rodney--"

"Shut up!" Rodney roared at him, and he drew his other fist back. He saw the first look of real fear in Radek's eyes, lightning quick, and they both froze. Rodney's fist hovered in the air, and it was the fear that really got to him. There were hundreds of life-sucking aliens on the way and Radek was afraid of him.

The fist fell to his side lifelessly. His eyes were hot and his words shook, "I don't care anymore. I don't care how much I know about the city, or the satellite. It doesn't matter who knows what, who's willing to walk which road, who's hell bent on choosing on a path that ends six feet down. Radek, I wouldn't care even if I was on the verge of the Grand Unification theory. "

Radek shifted under Rodney's arm, grimacing, but Rodney didn't relent his pressure. Rodney had to make him understand and if a year of offworld experience had taught him anything, it was that a little pain and pressure threw the world into stark clarity.

"What I do care about, however, is you. Your scrawny little Czech mind, on the monumental occasion it follows what I'm saying."

That stopped the squirming. Radek favored Rodney with an incredulous look, like he'd just sprouted a second head. Rodney felt a surge of that hollow despair - what kind of man did people think he was, that he'd admit he had feelings and they thought he was insane? The rage was ugly and churning in his gut. There was a burning in the back of his throat, and his voice was hoarse as he continued.

"Yes," he snarled, "the great Rodney McKay finally parts his veil of egotism to admit that he cares. He cares when he watches his colleague scream and writhe in pain as their heads implode. He cares when they pump hot lead into their skulls, and I sure as hell cared when I saw Gall's brain sliding down the wall of a Wraith ship. The caring will probably be the death of me if you leave and never come back, Radek."

Rodney broke off, because the words coming out were things he'd kept bottled up for so long they'd almost become jealously guarded secrets, things no one was meant to know. Now, though, they came pouring out, and he was as angry at the situation as he was at his own lack of self control. He bit his lip, trying to hold it in, and consequently gave Radek a moment of silence to fill. Radek wasted a good portion of it gaping at him, his eyes wide and filled with surprise. Radek eventually shifted, slightly, and his lips parted. His chest expanded and he held his breath, searching for words. Rodney tried to read his face through the haze, but he was trembling, trying to hold himself back, and he just didn't have the energy to think.

"I never…" Radek began, and fumbled with the words. For one wild moment Rodney wished he could speak Czech, if only so Radek could speak from his heart and Rodney could understand. That was his greatest desire - Rodney was sick of fact and truth, he wanted understanding, was desperate for it. He wanted whatever he wasn't getting from numbers and particles.

"I never knew that you… felt this way." Radek said, haltingly, and when Rodney made no violent moves he continued warily. "I didn't think that you felt so…" he searched for the word, "hluboký… It was not your fault. We do not blame you, Rodney. We understand--"

"NO!" Rodney shouted at him. Radek blinked in surprise and tried to shrink back against the wall. "No." Rodney repeated vehemently. "You don't understand. If you understood, you wouldn't have--"

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to contain it. God, he was coming apart, he could feel it – his tattered hold on his emotions was coming loose, he could feel the makings of a scream or maybe a sob worming its way up his throat. He gritted his teeth and prayed that he had the strength to hold it together.

"Rodney…" Radek whispered, "What have I done to cause you such anger?"

"God, don't you get it?" Rodney shook his head helplessly, desperately. "Is it really so hard for you to understand? I've tried Radek, god knows I've tried. I slave away at the impossible only to have it hover just outside my reach. I have to change everything about myself just to survive. I have to be someone I'm not just to save the day, and I'm so tired of it... I have to be brave when I'm terrified out of my mind and it's killing me. I have to be the Answer Man or people die... where does it end? With Gall? Abrams? Dumais? With you, Radek?" despite his best efforts to stop it, Rodney could feel his eyes burning, hot tears ready to slide down angry, red cheeks. "When am I finally going to be able to stop all this? When is it finally going to end? And how in god's name is you dying in my place going to help me?"

That was the root of it all, Rodney supposed. Everyone was so concerned only with what Rodney could provide to the expedition. All the vast knowledge and understanding of the city was all that was being weighed on this mortal scale. Nothing for his feelings on the matter, nothing for his mental state. Just his hold on so many truths, compared to his colleagues, and nothing else.

Radek frowned, his expression conflicted. "This... this isn't about you, Rodney, this is about what needs to be done-"

Rodney's form was perfect. Had Teyla been standing there, her hands would no doubt have been sounding slow, respectful applause. It was a beautiful right hook, catching Radek in the jawline and sending him into a boneless heap on the floor, his arm flailing and catching the box he had been loading and scattering it with an angry metallic crash. Furious Czech filled the room, "Tebe uhodit mne, tebe osel! Aby do prdele zranit! Dovedu ne--" he was yelling, but Rodney took a step towards him and the words died, the room falling into startled silence.

Rodney opened his mouth to speak but his throat had closed. His meager hold had fallen loose and he could feel it all bubbling in his chest, pressure he was unable to contain. Black anger was surfacing and Rodney was enough himself to realize that the outlet he wanted to take he would dearly regret later. Instead, he slammed his fist onto the table among the scattered electronics, feeling the glorious exultation of emotional pain made physical manifest. The thundering boom caused by his connecting fist echoed around the room and the silence continued to reign, broken only by the sounds of a city under siege and their heavy breathing.

"Rodney..." Radek said softly, but Rodney couldn't speak. Gripped with horrible despair, he spun on his heel and fled, leaving Radek on the floor with one hand pressed to the side of his face, the taste of blood in his mouth.

"Rodney."

"Go away, Sheppard. I'm not kidding, just turn your scrawny ass around and get away from me-"

Where Radek was somewhat of a push-over, Sheppard was lithe military muscle and had no problems whatsoever using force where Rodney was concerned. Sheppard grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and spun him around so they were face to face.

"What the hell is wrong with you, McKay? I come to check on you guys and find Zelenka on the floor with a bloody lip and you running out like the fires of hell were at your heels. What happened? This really isn't the time for petty fights-"

Maybe it was the stimulants and cumulative lack of sleep. Maybe Rodney was simply at his wits end with the world in general and Sheppard was just the unfortunate continuation in an exhausting line of nasty situations. Whatever the reason, Rodney acted with a speed and accuracy that Sheppard was not expecting. Rodney's fist caught him in the jaw, sending Sheppard reeling a few steps back and swearing angrily.

"I imagine it was something like that." Rodney said blandly.

Sheppard's choice of words were colorful in response, with anger flickering in Sheppard's eyes and he ran a tongue over his bottom lip, tasting copper. He turned to the side and spat a small glob of red saliva. "The hell was that for, McKay?" he eventually demanded, pressing the back of his hand to the side of his mouth.

"That's for whatever stupid, careless thing you're going to do that's going to get you killed before this is all over." Rodney replied. "I don't know what it's going to be – can't fathom, really, only that idiotic military mentality will probably be the root cause of it – but I know it's going to happen and there's nothing I can do to stop it. You all just seem hellbent on making me -" Rodney paused, and after a moment shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Just get away from me, I have work to do."

"I thought you were getting ready to fly to the satellite." Sheppard remarked somewhat stiffly.

Rodney spared him the barest of glances before he turned and walked away. He didn't deign respond.

Sheppard watched him retreat down the hallway. He pulled his hand away from his mouth and stared down at the small smear of blood. "Rodney, wait!" he called angrily and jogged to catch up with the scientist.

Rodney's glare could implode suns. "If I haven't made my feelings abundantly clear, Major..."

"What makes you think I'm going to do something stupid, McKay?" Sheppard demanded, almost defensively.

Rodney's eyes rolled heavenward. "Oh please, history is nothing if not repetitive. Doing stupid, noble things has become something of an epidemic around here lately and you're certainly not the exception to the rule. I know you, Sheppard. I know how you think. You're too hesitant to ask others to do things in your place, especially if there's a 'caution: certain death' addendum attached, and god only knows I'm that unfortunate. Go ahead, Sheppard, prove me right. Go do something noble and fatal because you can't see beyond your idiotic ideals and into the bigger picture."

"I'm not-" Sheppard began indignantly, but Rodney sneered and cut him off.

"Spare me. I have a good idea where the relationship between me and you is going, Sheppard, and I have no desire to experience it. Just do us both a favor and leave me the hell alone, and we'll both save ourselves a lot of anguish, okay?"

Rodney's voice had been shaking and he hoped valiantly that Sheppard hadn't caught on. It had been too much to hope for, obviously, because Sheppard tilted his head to the side like a loyal dog and peered at him through concerned eyes. "Rodney?" he asked, and it was too much the same thing. Too similar to a certain Czech looking at him through hooded, concerned eyes that should have been full of anger. Should have been, but weren't.

He felt like laughing. He could even feel uncontrollable laughter bubbling up in his chest, like the black anger, just beneath the surface. He tried valiantly to block it out, but a short burst of deprecating laughter emerged, and Sheppard recoiled just a bit and blinked.

Rodney shook his head in answer to Sheppard's silent question. The Major's gaze asked are you okay? but Rodney wasn't sure. There was so much to do, so much more fighting that needed to be done, and suddenly, it overwhelmed him. He had a perfect, crystal clear picture of the road ahead, the clarity that comes with letting down one's walls. It was almost amazing, the knowledge that came flooding forth. He was used to a vast understanding, but this came in a different manner. This was just gazing down a road, long and winding, full of fighting and steep cliffs, loss and bitter, despairing triumph... this was hopeless.

He couldn't do it alone.

Rodney reached forward and grabbed Sheppard's shoulders in an iron grip, his words fierce and desperate. "Just... just remember this, John. Please, even if you forget everything I ever say to you, just do me this one favor and remember-" Rodney licked his lips, and Sheppard was staring at him with a look so bewildered that Rodney almost started laughing, "Just remember that we need you. John, I need you-"

Their gazes were locked, but it was too much. Rodney felt his eyes become hot and realized with growing horror that he really had no control over his mouth. Without another word, he turned and fled.

"Don't you dare, don't you god-damn dare, Major!" Rodney roared and slammed his hand uselessly down onto the console. This was so outside his boundary to mentally comprehend that he couldn't begin to fathom everything that was this bitter betrayal. What was the point, he wondered desperately, what was the point of winning if it cost this much? He didn't know what he believed; that everything would right itself in the end, that the day would somehow be saved without this high a price. He just knew that this wasn't worth it. He just knew that this couldn't, shouldn't happen.

"McKay, I have to do this-"

"The only thing you're doing is proving me right, Major, while simultaneously spitting in my face. I told you, John, I told you to remember-" There was no need to repeat what had already been said and Rodney found himself unable to, his words choking off.

There was a static-filled pause on the other end, then John's soft voice, "I'm sorry, Rodney..."

"You're not sorry," Rodney hissed, "You're a god damn coward. Go ahead Sheppard, take the easy way out, and leave us to fight the long road ahead by ourselves-"

The anger was back full force and with sudden clarity, terrified that he'd destroy in it's last moments of life a connection he'd come to treasure, his hand came down on the console and with a single keystroke the connection between John and Rodeny was shut down. He stood there breathing heavily, his roiling emotions a painful clot in his chest – it was anger, it was all anger, it was all he could feel. Rodney turned to the personnel in the Gate Room and stared at them with eyes cold and hard. They almost weren't people, just blank slates, until he got a tight grip back on himself and narrowed his vision, focused only on the problems of the here and now. John could come later, if there was a later, and Rodney fleetingly wished that there wouldn't be a later. Any later that came would be mind-numbingly difficult, and Rodney wasn't sure if he had the strength to put back together everything that had broken this time around.

The next time Rodney saw Radek, Peter Grodin had left this world and Rodney had already stumbled to the edge of the cliff. Sheppard numbing betrayal was still forefront in his mind and Radek Zelenka could have pushed him over with ease. One harsh recrimination and Rodney would have crumbled into a thousand pieces, unable to hold together all the things that had come undone this long, unbearable week.

It was like a Mexican stand-off. Rodney stumbled down a hallway without any real direction in mind, just following his feet, which were still under his body's autopilot directive of 'never stop moving'. He wasn't too far gone to notice Radek lumbering down the hallway towards him. It was almost too much, seeing Radek. Like his brain locked up and couldn't process. It had somehow slipped his mind that they were all still alive – that there were actually pieces that needed to be picked up and put back together. Rodney halted upon seeing Radek, and Radek halted upon seeing Rodney. They stared at each other, each face tired and pained, and neither moved.

Radek was the first one to break free. He carefully closed the distance between them, and paused before Rodney, like he was unsure of what to do. Well, that made two of them. Eventually, Radek hesitantly reached up and grasped Rodney on the forearm. Rodney flinched without meaning to and Radek winced. Still, he kept his grip and gently tugged, propelling Rodney to follow. Radek led them, Rodney numbly following and too out of it to really understand what was going on, to a deserted room. Radek's room, Rodney dimly realized once they had arrived. It had his stuff in it, clothes strewn across the floor, papers and equipment in messy piles.

Rodney should have been confused, but that would have been an emotion, and he was too drained for emotion.

"Rodney." Radek began.

Rodney let him speak. He could have done a thousand things just then, including running from the room. But his legs had become one with the floor, and he didn't think all the forces of Atlantis would have been enough to move him.

"I understand." Radek said simply.

The expression in his eyes bored holes through Rodney. He did. He honestly and truly understood.

Rodney crumbled.

Rodney didn't recall his knees giving out, or him falling into a boneless slump of the floor. Rodney dimly heard Radek call out his name, yell it really, and Rodney's hands were clenched into fists like they had been a lifetime ago, and hot tears slid their way down his face. Hours of stimulants, endless hours of fighting and fear had taken their toll, and Rodney just couldn't hold it together anymore. He broke into a thousand little pieces and wished with a ferocity that frightened him that it didn't have to be that way. He wished that he didn't have all these pieces that fell away from him. He wished he was just one whole being, not a bunch of different parts thrown together. He wished that he didn't have to keep adding these new feelings to who he was, modifying over and over until he could be the man people wanted him to be.

He wished it didn't have to hurt so god damn much.

Radek had his hands on Rodney's shoulders and Rodney could tell from his stance that he was torn between embracing him and running for help. Rodney looked up at him, saw the dark bruise spreading across his jaw, and he half laughed and half sobbed, reaching up with his bruised hand to trail his fingers lightly across Radek's face. Radek froze under him, his eyes wide and locked with Rodney's.

He wanted to feel something, anything good, and for one wild moment he figured that Radek would understand, and the moment the thought crossed his mind he'd already pulled the Czech into an embrace. His hands moved to Radek's shoulders, hanging on for dear life. His tears were splashing onto Radek's shirt and he could only cry harder. God, he had hoped Radek understood. Such wild hope that he hadn't destroyed a friendship. Rodney took a shuddering breath, feeling warmth spread across his chest and shoulders.

Radek said nothing, simply kept his arms wrapped around Rodney. There was no recrimination, no derision. Just understanding.

"Thank you." Rodney breathed softly. He didn't think Radek heard it, he hadn't meant to say it in the first place, but Radek must have, because his arms tightened.

"I understand, Rodney." Radek said gently. "You're human."

Maybe he was. He hadn't been to sure for a while there, had kept trying to be something above what he was, but now he'd been forced to take a good look at himself and discover the truth. That's what he was good at, right? The truth. The knowledge of how to take things apart, to realize how they worked, what drove them; and how to put them back together again better than the way they were before.

He looked and saw only Rodney McKay; human, all too human.

-fin-