Chapter 2 Lost For Breath

Rodney McKay, the first man to be pregnant... So he would make the first page of the Times after all, not in the way intended maybe, but hey... Spending a couple of days in a drug induced peace helped him ease the idea of impossible into his head without freaking out into a full blown panic attack.

Maybe he could spend the rest of this... pregnancy like this, glazed and dazed, doing the whole birth... thing without even giving it a second thought, lazily listening to Carson's instructions along the way.

He'd spent most of his time on the Melonian science ship like that, drugged away from fear and worries, and it had worked for a while. Then he was rescued, and the past came blasting back to his mind in large chunks of violent information, manifesting themselves as mind shattering migraines. He spent days oblivious to the world around him, not even recognising his friends. He could scream at the top of his lungs for hours, his body, mind and soul reliving the six months of torture endured without the ability to have relief. Slowly he had made his way back into the light. Slowly he dared go to bed at night without fearing he would wake up back in the science lab on that godforsaken ship.

And now he was back where he had started, four months later, dragged back down to being the same helpless being with no way out. He felt violated, his body was housing an impostor, and it even had the nerve to feed of his blood, to make a home in his body. It had latched itself so neatly inside him he wasn't able to get rid of it, and should he somehow manage to kill the thing, it would take him with it.

On the third day he meekly gave Carson the sign to reduce his dose. He couldn't hide anymore, he had to wake up and face this.

He was closely monitored by Carson as the drugs slowly was reduced and flushed out of his system. Rodney was grateful the doctor had the good grace to keep the staff around him to a bare minimum, allowing him some space to breathe.

"No one must know!" It was the first coherent sentence he was able to form as he was starting to regain a somehow stable awareness.

"Rodney..."

"Just... the team... and Weir. No one else!" Rodney stared straight past the doctor standing in front of him, but the message was crystal clear none the less.

"All right, Rodney. For the time being, no one will know," Carson agreed.

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With all the cobwebs and curtains drawing away Rodney felt as if he was peeled, layer by layer until there was nothing left but raw emotions and the dawning realisation that he was facing something bigger than he had his entire life. With a sinking heart he aknowledged he wasn't as brave as he had hoped.

He kept to his infirmary bed for a couple of days, feeling numb. He was still pushing the grim facts to the back of his mind, and allowed no visitors but Carson.

"I just need some time, Carson," he told the worried frown that hovered over him from time to time. Frankly he was just staring at the wall, or the ceiling. He was starting to regret having Carson pull the plug on his drug regime, as he was afraid to take that final step of acceptance.

He didn't want to face what was happening to him. Floating in a bubble of self denial and leaving his body on that bed, his mind sought refuge in old memories. Carson would often find him in that state, smiling daftly while staring blankly into thin air, and it took him a good five minutes to snap him out of it.

On the third day Carson smacked him by the back of his hand, hard on the cheek.

"Snap out of it Rodney!"

The veil in Rodney's eyes slowly lifted as he was pulled back from the fantasy world he'd built around him self.

"Ouch!" he snapped, rubbing his cheek. "What did you do that for!"

Carson had that typical "I'm your doctor, now let me treat you, dammit!" look on his face.

"Enough hiding, Rodney. I need you to deal with this, you need to deal with this!"

"I am!" Rodney bit back, mouth tilting downwards the way it did when he felt insulted.

"No you're not," Carson told him calmly: "and now I'm going to give you a much needed nudge." He leaned over the man sitting on the bed, and as he was about to place a hand on Rodney's abdomen a fist shot out and impacted with his jaw.

"Oh shit!" Rodney yelped and jumped backwards towards the wall. "I'm so sorry, Carson... I... I don't know what.."

"It's alright, Rodney," Carson told him calmly, and smiled. He actually smiled.

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"I just hit you, square on the face... and you... you smile at me?" Rodney's look of disbelief was worth the pain in his jaw.

"It was a glimpse of the old Rodney McKay," Carson smiled: "I've missed him."

"The old Rodney McKay did not go around hitting people in the head!" Rodney spat, obviously offended.

"When he felt threatened, he would," Carson said, and sat down by Rodney's bedside. "I know the idea of your condition is next to impossible to grasp for you, for us all, but the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can start to accept it. And when you accept it it'll be possible for me to help you, Rodney."

Rodney blinked, a confused expression painting his features.

"I try," he admitted: "but every time I..." his voice trailed away, and he was starting to slip away again.

"Hey, focus!" Carson told him sternly, grabbing a hold of his arm. "Stay with me, Rodney!"

Rodney shook his head, a tired frown appearing on his face.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"May I?" Carson's hand let go of his patient's arm and drifted over to the area above Rodney's abdomen. Rodney looked down, stared at his friend's hovering hand for a second, and as a shudder went through his body he nodded his agreement.

Very carefully Carson lowered his hand and added pressure to Rodney's abdomen. There, beneath his skin, planted deep inside his belly, the doctor could feel the organic device causing his friend so much discomfort.

"That's.... unsettling..." Rodney whimpered, as Carson's steady hands traced the device inside him.

"You feel bloated, yeah?" Carson asked as he continued the physical exam. Rodney's gut felt hard to the touch, skin stretched from the new internal pressure.

"Like a toad..." Rodney admitted.

"That's part of the pregnancy," Carson told him, knowing he had to use layman's terms to force Rodney to start thinking about his condition with a conscious mind. Rodney's sharp inhale of air told Carson he had hit bulls eye.

"I want to give you an ultrasound examination now," Carson told him as he pulled away from the patient's stomach. "Are you up to that?"

"I... I don't know..." Rodney was hesitant. But Carson had made up his mind. For Rodney to come to terms with his condition, it was vital that he actually saw what he was up against. He needed to see for him self.
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He was so scared he was about to pee in his pants. As the screen above him started flickering to life and Carson carefully lifted his shirt to apply the gel needed for the connection with the ultrasound device to work Rodney realised there was no way back.

"Is it alright if I close my eyes? I don't need to see, right?" he asked nervously as Carson placed the device to his abdomen.

"I need you to stay with me this time, Rodney," Carson told him solemnly. "I know all of this is hard for you to fathom, lord knows it is for me. Therefore it is vital you start preparing for what is to come. You will have to go through with this, one way or another."

"I... I know..." Rodney sighed, steeling himself: "Well... bring it on already!"

The flickering on the screen changed and green light was suddenly broadcasting the innards of Dr. Rodney McKay.

Carson moved around a bit, before he settled the prod somewhere beneath Rodney's bellybutton.

"See that string of pearls over there?" he asked pointing towards the screen. "That's the foetus' spine. And over there, that blinking little blot over there..."

"A heart," Rodney breathed: "A beating heart!" His eyes grew large as he stared at the evidence flickering on the screen. There it was, the one thing he couldn't believe, the one thing standing between him and his old life.

"And there," Carson pushed on: "you can see the profile of the foetus' head."

Rodney's breathing grew rapid and his hands clamped down on the steel bars of the hospital bed.

"You alright, son?" Carson's voice was far away.

"No..." Rodney moaned: "I'm not alright." He tore his eyes away from the screen, refusing to stare at it any longer.

"I can't deal with this, Carson. I thought I could... but I can't." Carson removed the prod from Rodney's belly and placed a warm hand on his arm.

"Yes you can, Rodney. You're doing it right now." Rodney glared at him.

"Evidently, I'm not!" he shrugged, tucking down his shirt with ferocious movements: "I'm freaking out, that's what I'm doing right now!" He could feel the wave of emotions rising inside him like nausea.

"I'm scared, Carson." the sentence was barely audible. Rodney was sitting in his bed, legs pressed towards his chest, rocking forward and backwards. He closed his eyes, and his lungs desperately tried to keep up with his panicked breathing. He just wanted to scream, hit his fists into the wall and rage towards the enemy he couldn't reach. He didn't dare a look on Carson, who was standing by his bedside, knowing only too well his eyes would betray him if he would. He pulled away from the touch gently applied to his shoulder.

"Please," he muttered: "I need some time alone."

"It's alright, Rodney," Carson assured.

"No, NO it's NOT!" Rodney suddenly screamed.

"I, I... don't know what to do, I don't know how to..." And of course, there he was betrayed by his treacherous eyes. He dived into the palms of his hands, embarrassed and utterly ashamed, trying to blink out of existence by sheer power of will.

There was that gentle touch again, and once more he flinched away from it. But this time Carson didn't retract. Firm, gentle arms wrapped around him and pulled him close for a clumsy embrace. The smell of that weird Scottish aftershave that always lingered in a room where Carson had set foot wrapped itself around Rodney like a warm blanket. After a few feeble and half-hearted attempts at shoving Carson off him he surrendered, going limp in his arms.

"Let it out, Rodney, let it out," Carson murmured, stroking his friend's back like he would a distraught child.

And Rodney let go. He had no idea of how long he lost himself, he just hang on for dear life. He gasped for air, feeling the rage and fear slowly draining his body to leave him empty and raw of emotions that had been bottled up in him for so long.

"I... I can't do this Carson," he whispered towards Carson's chest, still hanging on to him, afraid to let go.

"We're going to get through this, together, Rodney," Carson told him gently. "It's only four months, we can do this."

"We?" Normally Rodney would have thrown a tantrum fit of such an exaggeration, but he was to tired to muster up any anger or even a small twinge of irritation.

"Who's the one who's going to carry this bugger all the way to term and give birth to it, huh?" He dug deeper into the embrace though; desperate to get all the warmth and comfort he could steal.

"Heh heh, all right Rodney, you win," Carson said, a soft tone in his voice. "I know this is unfair, I would carry your burden if I could."

"Yeah right," Rodney uttered with a growl. "You'd take my place?!"

"In a heartbeat," Carson answered sincerely, and to his great surprise Rodney realised he was telling the truth.

"Then you're a bigger man than me, Carson," he sighed and closed his eyes. He'd spent the last days wishing his condition on any other man than himself, not to much success obviously. And here Carson was willing to take his place, without even flinching, when he himself would have left a Rodney shaped hole in the wall if faced with the same dilemma.

"How come you are so bloody nice all the time?!" As always Rodney McKay was unable to greet great kindness with anything else than seething sarcasm.

"I guess someone on this base have to even out your chronic grumpiness," Carson murmured and patted him gently on the back. "We'll get you through this, Rodney."

A heavy sigh of great doubt was all that Rodney was able to reply, but the calm that settled over his body told volumes. He secretly cherished the comfort of Carson's promise.

Carson had been through his fare share of McKay breakdowns through the last couple of years. The man wasn't exactly what you'd consider made of stone. The smallest splinter in his finger could be enough to set a tantrum off and feed the hypochondriac beast that lived inside him. But despite the whining over little things, the man grew when faced with his and others mortality.

This situation was, on the other hand, what John Sheppard would've described as a curve ball. First McKay had gone missing for six months, then there was a dangerous extraction that claimed the lives of six marines. Then there was the long way back to coming to terms with what hat happened to him and settling back into his old life. Then Carson hit him with the bombshell of his pregnancy, the incredible results of the Melonians tampering with his body for six months.

Maybe Carson should have told him the truth sooner. He often pondered about this at night. The nights had grown long and never-ending for the doctor, and the few restless hours of sleep he received was all too often bothered with nightmares.

He watched the footage of the first days from when Rodney was brought back, carefully journaled by Atlantis herself, and came to the same conclusion every time. There was no way he could tell that broken soul that he wasn't out of the woods yet, that his journey in this tale had just begun. He needed a chance to get back on his feet first, or else he could, or most probably would break.

And therefore Carson had lingered, biding his time to give Rodney the time to heal, and for himself to find options to offer his friend the day he finally told him the truth.

Now Rodney McKay would have to start climbing and fighting all over again, but this time with the threat growing inside him.

For a man like Rodney the journey would be long, hard and painful. The brilliant mind of his had its dark sides. He was often both ignorant and crude, plagued with a foul mouth that often got the better of him. In his darker moments he was a raging egocentric with no thought of no one's well being other than his own. To implant him with this idea of sharing his body with a foetus was no easy task. He saw the foetus as an impostor, feeding of his energy, mind and body.

He already was a difficult man to interact with, and painfully awkward with children. The very idea of hosting one of these beings would no doubt scare the living daylights out of him.

Once Rodney had bluntly compared his brain and Carson's by describing his brain as a Rolls Royce, while he'd called Carson's brain a Mini Cooper.

"Well, at least mine is crammed to the brim with car essentials, as opposed to your pompous penis enhancer," Carson had replied, more than a little miffed. He had regretted his immature reply instantly of course, as the other man's ego visibly shrunk in front of him. Carson had that effect on McKay, he knew every button to push to force Rodney to show his true colours, but he rarely pushed them. This had been one of those rare occasions, and the real Rodney McKay was visible for the briefest of seconds.

"I do not have a pompous penis enhancer!" he quacked, looking absolutely mortified.

"I tell you the Rolls Royce is equipped with more than enough extra enhancements to make it one of the most desired cars out there!"

A smirk grew on Carson's face as he watched his friend's shields go back up and saving his ego for another day.

"And you know, a Mini Cooper is a sturdy little car, I actually owned one back in the days when I was a student at..."

"Apology accepted, McKay." Carson patted his back and knew from his friend's small inhale of air, that he was relieved. It was all he needed, he knew there was a good, and sometimes even almost humble man hidden deep inside all the fake assertiveness.

Now Rodney was faced with hosting and delivering a living breathing human being, and all of the uncertainty that ultimately made Rodney human would come crashing around the walls he had built around himself.