McKay
McKay managed, shamefacedly, to avoid every one of Elizabeth's communiqués with the Daedalus. He used Novak's station while she was distracted, and hacked into Caldwell's files to read a copy of the schedule. He would be sleeping, or engrossed in an experiment no one could interrupt, or simply 'awol', when he conveniently mislaid his radio.
"Elizabeth will figure it out," Sheppard told him, over lunch.
"Figure out what?" he asked, feigning innocence.
"That you're avoiding her."
McKay winces. "I need to apologise to her, but I don't want that to be over a radio."
"She knows you're on board. Caldwell told her as soon as we were within contact range. It's not that long now until you have to face the music."
"You don't need to remind me," he mutters. "I've had the lecture from Carter."
Sam called the day after they broke orbit, her image grainy, patched in from Canada. McKay could see his apartment behind her, the place a mess.
"You could have cleared up," she reproached.
"Sorry," he apologised. "It was a last minute decision."
"I know," she said, dryly.
It was Carter he called, a favour used. Sam who appealed to Landry, who cut through the red tape due to 'special circumstances'. McKay barely had time to bundle some belongings into a suitcase before she called to confirm - no, it's not too late, and the Daedalus will pick you up shortly. He hadn't realised how quickly that time would come - was in mid-explanation to Sam about his unfinished papers and another favour when Hermiod called.
He regrets his haste. At the time he was so panicked about trying to get aboard the Daedalus that he forgot about all that he was leaving. His apartment, his books, his neighbours. The town, the park, the grocery store. Even Starbucks. Rodney has never been a fan of sentimentality but even he felt a pang of regret when he realised he never took a moment to acknowledge the goodbye.
Carter scowled at him, as he excused: "Well, most of the contents belong to the SGC anyway."
"Not everything. That DVD player of yours is too sophisticated to be SGC issue." She grinned. "And since you forgot to take it with you, I thought I'd appropriate it. Consider it payment."
McKay opened his mouth to protest, then changed his mind, remembering that he had to ask Carter another favour. "Ah, about things I left behind…"
"Oh," she said, reaching out to the camera and tilting it to show a different view of the room. Spot is asleep on the sofa, curled up into a basket McKay didn't recognise. "You mean him?"
Sam reached out and tickled the cat behind his ears. Purring loudly, Spot rubbed his head against her hand, eyes closed in bliss. "I can't send him after you."
"No, I realise that. Actually…" He hesitated, nervously. "I was hoping you would take him home."
"To keep him?" she asked, surprised.
"Borrow," he corrected, pitifully.
"Sure." She smiled, rubbing Spot's fur. "It's been a while since I had a cat."
"I guessed you were a cat person," he said, quickly. "Um, if I were on Earth, the next time, I thought I could visit…" He sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.
Sam pulled a face at the camera. "That is the strangest pick up line I've ever heard, McKay."
"And yet one that works?" he asked, optimistically.
"We'll see." She turned back to the camera, leaving Spot to sleep. "Anything else?"
He listed various other small tasks, technicalities the SGC were already prepared for. Outstanding rent, and unpaid credit cards.
Sam jotted a couple of notes down, grimacing at several of the tasks. Finally, after McKay exhausted all his ideas, she asked: "Are you sure about this?"
"About?" he replied, feigning ignorance.
"Going back."
He didn't hesitate. "Yes. Not that Earth isn't fun, but this is where I should be. Besides, Atlantis needs me."
"I'm sure they'd cope," she teased.
"Oh, yes, and have you forgotten how recently they nearly blew themselves up without me?" He paused. "I've thought about this."
"And what about when you get back?"
Rodney winced. "Ah."
"Duck and cover?" she suggested, one eyebrow raised.
"So?" Sheppard asks, bringing McKay back to the present. "Don't you think it would be easier if you called first? Hi honey, I'm home?"
McKay glares at him. "She knows I'm coming."
"Sure," Sheppard drawls. "She knows. But you don't think it might be worth, I don't know, apologising before you get there?" He reaches out and steals the bread roll from McKay's plate.
He doesn't fight back. Food on the Daedalus is of a limited range, and after the first week the freshness of some of the products has waned.
"I'd rather do it face to face," he explains, weakly trying to justify his actions.
"Just be sure to wear your vest." Sheppard grins. "Wouldn't want Carson to have to patch you up again."
McKay rubs his jaw. "I'm sure you cracked something," he complains. "It still hurts."
"Sure," the soldier drawls, sceptically. "Now if Ronon sucker-punches you…"
Rodney shudders.
McKay lies awake, staring at the bunk above him. It is the night before the day the Daedalus is due to arrive at Atlantis. Carson should be above him, but the physician has been called away to the aid of an engineer with a broken leg.
His own work has been sparse over the last three weeks. Most of his time has been spent reading the reports of the city's science crew to learn what work has been carried out in his absence. McKay does not want to have to play subordinate to Radek any longer than he has to. For all Sheppard's assurances, he isn't convinced that the Czech will forgive him for usurping his new position.
The room is dark, but not silent. The hum of the ship around him is constant, yet comforting. Louder than Atlantis, but with the same familiar rumble of bass, overlaid with higher pitched creaks and distant clanks. In the city, the sound acted as a reminder of the ocean beneath them; on the Daedalus, it speaks of the space outside, and the tremendous speed they make through it.
McKay only now realises how much he has missed that sound.
It would be easier, he muses, if he could pretend the past few months had never happened. That it has been a long, drawn out dream, and he has only been gone a matter of weeks. Shore leave, and nothing more.
He can't.
The science reports attest to the time passed. The changes made in his absence, discoveries and explorations he has still to study. Life on Atlantis moves at a faster pace than the one he has been living on Earth, and McKay isn't sure he can catch up.
Then there have been the losses.
He read the personnel updates Elizabeth has sent to Earth. McKay approached them with caution, though he knows that either Carson or Sheppard would have told him of anyone close, anyone whose first name is known to him.
The list is, thankfully, short, but not short enough. Three of Sheppard's men. One fatally injured when a jumper was shot down, caught in the unexpected path of a Wraith dart. Two killed in a cave-in, along with one of the scientists, Doctor Rayner. A seismologist who arrived on the Daedalus only a few days before his own departure. A woman who spent all of three weeks aboard the city before her death.
McKay cannot imagine her face. He knows he must have met her, at least once, in the 'induction' Elizabeth insists all new recruits experience. A handshake, or even less - a snapped hello, in a 'can't you see I'm busy' tone.
Radek's signature is at the bottom of the report into her death.
Rodney has signed his own name more times than he cares to remember, although he has kept count. He does not want to repeat the action, for the number to increase, but he knows it will. Knows that this is all part of the life he has signed up for, the life he is returning to.
Knowing that does not make it any easier.
Sheppard's signature lines the bottom of the reports into the three soldiers' deaths. Long, and looping, as though each autograph has taken him time and thought. McKay has seen it before, when he read the words of Ford's disappearance. The initials, MIA.
How many more times, McKay wonders. Twenty, thirty, a hundred? Repetition does not make the duty any easier, and Sheppard has signed more than he has.
Elizabeth has countersigned each one. Science and military. Following protocol, just as, if Sheppard were to die, then it would be McKay's own signature on the report. Two senior officers. Just as Elizabeth and Sheppard signed the report bearing his own name as title. Returned to Earth, wounded in the line of duty.
As though that can explain the reality.
"I don't remember. Not getting hit. Not getting Sheppard through the Stargate. I can remember running, and Sheppard giving the order to split up, and then, and then… he was down on the ground bleeding and I didn't know what to do."
"Your team have been in trouble before. The Iratus bug…"
"I don't need examples, I know, alright?"
He knows.
The door to the room opens a crack, light spilling into the dark space. McKay blinks, eyes struggling to adjust, and sees Carson's silhouette creep around the edge.
"Everything okay?"
The figure jumps. "Rodney. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"I wasn't asleep." He sits up, pulling the blanket up to his chest. The room is just big enough to accommodate a small table and two chairs, and McKay watches as Carson drops into one, entire body slumping into the seat.
He says nothing, just watching.
"He'll be fine," the Scot says, after a moment. "A clean break. He'll be out of commission for a while, in plaster. Uncomfortable and painful but it could have been much worse."
"What happened?" McKay asks. A few years ago he wouldn't have cared, would have dismissed the man as an idiot, because who injures themselves on a glorified taxi ride?
Then he watched a man, a colleague, be sucked out of an airlock and killed in the vacuum of space while he could only stand by, helpless. And suddenly even the peace of the journey home was shattered.
"Fell off a ladder, trying to replace a broken light bulb." Carson laughs, but his voice is strained. "Daft, really."
Curious, he asks: "Doesn't the Daedalus have its own doctor?"
"Aye, but he was in a different section of the ship, and I was closest." The Scot shrugs. The movement is barely discernable in the dim light. McKay cannot see his face, but he can hear his friend's exhaustion, and his own anger rises in response.
"And they couldn't beam him over there?!"
"Rodney," Carson reproaches.
Scowling, McKay lies back down so he is again looking at the bottom of the bunk above him. He listens as Carson kicks off his shoes, then feels the bed shift and move around him as the Scot levers himself into the top bunk, still dressed. He hears Beckett shift and turn restlessly against the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position.
"I'm sick of it, I'm sick of people dying on me."
"But you saved him. You saved the Colonel's life."
McKay stares at the Beckett-shaped dent in the mattress above him.
"Carson?"
Tired, fed-up: "What, Rodney?"
"Did I, ah… did I say thank you? For, ah…" He remembers Sheppard's words from earlier. "For putting me back together."
There is a slight pause, then Carson says, his voice lighter: "Aye, Rodney. You did."
"Oh." He hesitates. "Good. I probably don't, ah… I don't say it enough."
"It's my job," Carson points out. "What sort of physician would I be if I turned a patient away? Even you, Rodney." The man pauses. "It's always nice to hear, though."
McKay stays silent for several moments.
"He told me to leave him."
"Aye. But you didn't."
"No. I never thought - I wouldn't. But next time, if god, if there was a next time, I might."
"Why do you stay on Atlantis?"
He doesn't get an immediate response. The silence is long enough for him to wonder whether Carson has already fallen asleep.
Then, "What do you mean?"
"You could get a job back on Earth. Anywhere you wanted to work. In the SGC. Outside of the Stargate programme."
"I suppose," the Scot says, carefully, "I came because of the possibilities. The research that can be done in Pegasus, the discoveries. Just the same as you."
"And now?" he presses. "After…" He doesn't say 'Michael', because he isn't that insensitive. "After the last few years?"
There is another pause, the longest yet.
"My GP retired two - three years ago. Doctor Murphy. The man has seen me through everything. Was there in the delivery room with my mum when I was born. He saw my dad, right through to the end. With the NHS as it is now… well, GPs like him are a dying breed."
For once, McKay restrains himself, and doesn't interrupt.
"When I went into medicine, my mum thought that's what I'd be. She always thought very highly of Doctor Murphy. The whole village did. But I wanted more than that. Why spend an entire career on other people's sniffles and infections when I could cure diseases, save thousands?" He laughs, and this time the sound is more authentic. "Mum was always a little disappointed. Never said it, of course, but I know - she'd prefer it if I were home, with a little practice somewhere, giving her grandchildren."
"But you went into research," McKay says. He realises, now, how easy it can be to lose the image of Carson the geneticist in the image of Carson the physician.
"Aye. But I never accounted for life on Atlantis. The people there. Having patients again."
"With all our sniffles and infections?" he says, pointedly.
"And the rest. The best of both worlds, I suppose. There aren't many jobs that would offer me that. That, and good friends."
McKay smiles, knowing he cannot be seen.
"What about you, Rodney? You're on this ship. Took you bloody long enough to decide, mind you, but you're here. Are you ready to go back?"
He thinks for a moment, of signatures and reports and investigations, of being afraid, of running from weapons fire or burning with desperate panic, hands shaking over the controls of a weapons platform.
"Do you think anyone can ever be ready for Atlantis?"
Carson snorts. "Good point."
The planet is beautiful, and the sight of Atlantis no less staggering than the first time McKay saw her from above.
In the city it is still early, the sun low on the horizon, but the sky is clear and a brilliant blue. Both spires and water sparkle, and the shadow cast by the Daedalus as it heads into a low orbit is ugly against the landscape.
McKay stands on the bridge of the ship, feeling out of place, as in front of him Sheppard exchanges quiet words with Caldwell.
Carson stands beside him, small bag slung over one shoulder.
"Where's the rest of your luggage?"
"I'll pick it up later."
McKay grimaces. "You just want to be there when…"
"When you arrive back?" Beckett shrugs, grinning. "I'd like to see Ronon's reaction."
"Oh, great," he grumbles. "Sheppard's already warned me that Ronon…"
"Is pissed at you?" Sheppard says, suddenly appearing beside them. "Just like everyone else, McKay."
He nudges the scientist with his elbow. McKay grimaces, and pulls away.
"You don't have to enjoy this so much."
"I'll admit, I get a certain satisfaction out of seeing you squirm."
"I'm not squirming," he protests.
"Not yet."
"Colonel," Carson reproaches. The Scot puts his hand on McKay's back. "He's winding you up."
"Maybe," McKay says, but he isn't naïve. He is all too painfully aware of the mistakes he made in his last few days aboard Atlantis. Of the friendships he ruined, of the words he spoke in anger and fear.
Carson's hand is still on his shoulder. Ordinarily McKay would be annoyed by the gesture, but at this moment he finds it comforting. A reminder that even if he insulted the rest of the city, at least two of his friends were stubborn and hung around long enough to see more than the self-pity, to give him a chance at repairing his mistakes.
"Believe it or not, people care about you, in spite of your winning personality."
His mouth quirks into a smile.
"McKay?" Sheppard asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry. I was thinking of something Carter said."
"Oh, really? Was this before or after she slapped you?"
His eyes widen at Sheppard's grin, but before he can splutter a response Caldwell interrupts.
"Gentlemen, if you're ready…"
Caldwell has turned his chair around to face them. McKay straightens, feeling self-conscious and nervous.
"Not joining us, Colonel?" Beckett asks, courteously.
"I'll follow later." The older man tilts his head, then looks away, tapping his radio. "Hermiod?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"We're set up here."
McKay waits, taking a deep breath. His pitifully small bag feels heavy against his shoulder, the strap uncomfortable, digging into his skin.
Sheppard glances at him.
"Ready?" Caldwell asks.
McKay feels a tingle, and then his vision starts to blur, grainy, the colour fading. Lost in the ether, no one hears his quiet, pitiful sounding: "No…"
Atlantis appears around him.
The control room above, the Stargate behind them, complete with stained glass window. Coloured light casts warmth into the room, laying patterns of oranges and yellows across the floor.
The familiarity of home makes McKay's chest ache.
Elizabeth stands on the bottom step, dressed in uniform. Behind her and several steps up Ronon, Teyla and Zelenka stand in a line. They are unchanged from the way McKay remembers them. The past few months have seemed so long to him, he expects there to be differences. There should be some sign that time has passed, that all he has been through, all that he experienced was real.
On either side of him, Beckett and Sheppard start to walk forward, Sheppard whistling.
"Hey guys. Good to see you. We picked up a hitchhiker, hope you don't mind…"
Elizabeth smiles, and finishes the last few steps until she is walking towards Sheppard. "Not at all, Colonel."
McKay hovers behind them, his feet seemingly frozen to the floor. He cannot bring himself to move, and wishes desperately that the ground would suddenly open up and swallow him.
"Rodney."
He stares at his shoes. "Elizabeth."
"Rodney," she says, pointedly.
He lifts his head. Elizabeth stands in front of him, so close he can smell her perfume - something floral and gentle.
"Hi," he says, his throat dry, voice scratchy. "I, uh… is it okay that I'm here? Sheppard said - well, I thought… I know I didn't give much notice…"
"Rodney," she repeats, then suddenly steps forward and hugs him. Both of her arms wrap around his back, and his chin touches her shoulder as he leans in toward her, feeling embarrassed and awkward.
After a second she pulls away, and now McKay can see that Teyla and Ronon are stood beside her.
He lifts one hand and waves, echoing his actions on the Daedalus.
Teyla smiles, wide and warm and beautiful. She steps forward, and this time McKay is ready - reacting as Teyla's hands touch his shoulders, and he dips his forehead to meet hers. The Athosian greeting has never seemed so intimate before.
"I am glad to see you," she says, her breath ghosting across his face.
"You too," he squeaks, wishing he sounded more confident. "Ah, thank you for the video message."
Her smile widens, and she pulls away. "You are recovered?"
"Bloody miracle that machine," Carson says, answering for him. "If we could work out a way to use it without the user needing both the Ancient gene and Tok'ra…"
"Doc'," Sheppard interrupts, deliberately.
McKay flinches, aware of Ronon staring at him. He has forgotten how tall the Satedan is, how big and hulking and powerful. He withers under the man's intimidating stare.
"Ronon."
The runner doesn't answer.
Taking a deep breath, McKay forces his chin upwards, and curls his hands into fists, lifting them to his chest. "Okay, so… go on."
Ronon cocks an eyebrow at him. "What?"
"Hit me."
"Hit you?"
"Yes." He closes his eyes. "Just… try not to break my nose. Or… okay, one black eye I can cope with, but not two. And do it quick. One, two…"
Nothing happens. Confused, McKay risks cracking one eye open.
"Rono…"
His words are cut off with a yelp as the Satedan, bending a little, suddenly steps forward and envelops the scientist into a hug. His grip is fierce and tight, strong enough to squeeze the air from McKay's chest, and lift his feet from the floor. He gasps, ribs aching, and attempts to extricate his arms from where they are crushed against his sides.
"Ronon." Sheppard's voice. "Ronon, I think that might be enough."
The hold around McKay suddenly releases, and the scientist drops to the floor, gasping. "Thank you."
Ronon stares at him, looking confused. "You thought I was going to hit you?"
"Sheppard hit me," he says, by way of an explanation.
Elizabeth raises one eyebrow, turning her gaze upon a sheepish Sheppard. "You hit him?"
"It was barely a scratch!" the Colonel protests.
"Did you bring me a present?" Ronon grunts, poking McKay's bag.
Recovering from the unexpected, if bone-crushing hug, Rodney pulls the bag away from the Satedan's inquisitive hands. "It wasn't a holiday," he protests.
"No?" Zelenka asks. The Czech walks up to stand beside Weir, hugging a laptop to his chest. "There are some in the science department who would disagree with you, Rodney. For us it has been quite peaceful in your absence."
McKay's jaw drops open. "What? Peaceful? So that little trip I took to Antarctica, what was that for?"
"Not peaceful anymore," Sheppard mutters, loud enough to be heard.
"One problem," Radek corrects, "and I would have found the solution had Colonel Sheppard not been so impatient…"
"Radek…" McKay interrupts, then, exasperated, he lapses into silence. The Czech seems tired, and slimmer than McKay remembers. The only one to have changed. His hair seems wilder, and his uniform snugger. "What happened to you?"
"Training," the Czech replies, manhandling the laptop so he could tug on his shirt. He grimaces. "It was forced upon me."
"Necessary for off world missions," Sheppard points out.
"And protocol," Elizabeth adds. She puts her hand on the Czech's shoulder, briefly. "I've been very impressed with the way you took on both roles in such a short time period."
McKay winces, remembering what his arrival means for his counterpart. "Radek, I, ah, I didn't mean - I don't mean… if I could…"
He wishes he could find the appropriate words, but his incoherent mumbles seem to be enough for the Czech.
Zelenka shrugs, then thrusts out the laptop as though it is a peace offering. "I have not worked on my own projects for three months, Rodney. Three months! I have led teams, and delegated, and coached and managed - but my own work? And as if my time were not already limited, I have to go off-world, hike for miles in the rain, play nicely with native villagers, watch while the Colonel…"
Teyla clears her throat, delicately but deliberately.
"Oh," and McKay raises an eyebrow and stares at Sheppard deliberately. "Kirk?"
"Here," and again Zelenka thrusts the laptop at him. "Take it. It is yours again. I have loaded it with the latest manifests and the reports which need approving. Both Ashcroft and Simpson have several projects they wish you to review. There is a request from the botany department to turn a section of level three into a hydroponics lab. Miko has produced a paper on how to streamline the code needed to convert Ancient programming into something that our software can accommodate. I do not understand the script she uses, but I hope you will. Oh, and I have included the portfolios of all the applicants for the two positions available in engineering. Not many, this time. No more than thirty or forty to sift."
McKay takes hold of the laptop, almost too stunned to speak. Almost. "Thirty or forty?!"
"I am glad you are back." Then Radek coughs, and turns suddenly, toward Elizabeth. "Doctor Weir, I would like to formally resign as chief of science aboard Atlantis."
She hesitates, glancing at McKay. "Rodney?"
"I…" He pauses, struggling for words. "Radek…"
"That means he agrees," Radek snaps, though his tone is soft. "Believe me, any thoughts I may have entertained as to my career advancement have changed. I have decided I do not want to be a leader. Yes, Rodney?"
He swallows. "Y-yes."
"Good. And about Antarctica…"
"Yes?"
There is movement from around the gateroom. Figures step out of the shadows, several dozen; not all of Atlantis' personnel, but a good number, and every face McKay recognises. Scientists, standing out in their uniforms. Miko hiding behind Dave Ashcroft, Simpson stood beside Keenan. The gate technician, Chuck-somebody. Soldiers - Lorne, and Calletano, and Lieutenant Jones. A round of applause breaks out, loud and warm and, for McKay, hideously embarrassing.
Again he wishes the ground would open up. He flushes scarlet, his cheeks burning, and he hugs the laptop closer to his chest in self-defence.
Sheppard puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, while beside them Elizabeth, Carson and Radek join in with the applause.
"Glad you're back, McKay," the Colonel says. "And despite what Radek says, you may have something to do with us still being here."
Rodney blinks, his throat closing up. "Yes, well… it's, ah, I was in the right place and…" He grimaces. The applauses isn't ending. "Can they stop that, please?"
Sheppard grins, and makes a slight motion with his free hand. The clapping dies away, and as McKay tries to gaze at anything except the people around him he is aware of the crowd moving away, of dissipating back to the depths of the city and their usual routine.
He sags a little, relieved that he is no longer the subject of so many stares.
"I'm hungry," Sheppard announces. "What's the mess serving today?"
"Cake," Ronon says abruptly, then gives a feral grin.
"Cake sounds good." Sheppard jostles McKay's shoulder. "What do you say, Rodney?"
He nods, still stunned. "Cake sounds good."
"Elizabeth?"
She smiles. "I may join you later, Colonel. I need to speak with Colonel Caldwell first."
"We'll save you a piece." Sheppard pushes McKay forward, forcing him into a stumbling walk. Carson, Teyla and Ronon keep pace, walking beside them. "We've got to catch up."
"Catch up?" he repeats, dumbly.
"Yeah. Teyla has to tell us about her date with that guy we can't talk about…"
"Colonel!" the Athosian admonishes, sounding embarrassed.
"And I've been teaching Ronon baseball."
"It's dull," Ronon says, matter-of-factly.
"You just have to learn to appreciate the delicacies of the art," Sheppard tells him.
"Glorified bloody rounders if you ask me," Beckett mutters.
McKay swallows. His feet follow Sheppard's guidance, out of the control room and into the corridor. People pass them, scientists and soldiers, each glancing briefly in his direction and offering a smile or a wave.
"Cake?" he asks, clinging to the one sentence he understood in the past few minutes.
"Chocolate," Ronon says, then grins again, wickedly.
Author's Notes: Because cake is always good. One more chapter to tie up loose ends, and then we're done!
