Title: Getting To Know You
Author: Ellex
Disclaimer: Stargate:Atlantis does not belong to me. (Sob)
Spoilers: The Storm
Reviews: I love feedback and constructive criticism.
Archive: Anywhere you like.
Summary: Conversations between Shep and McKay. Things get kinda serious here – Rodney had a really, REALLY bad childhood.
Warning: Some violence.
A/N: This is an AU sequel to "The Storm". I've only seen "The Storm" once, and I don't remember all the details, so any mistakes are mine. Any medical mistakes are also mine. Serena Perry is an OC, she'll show up in person later on. If my details about Doctor Heightmeyer are wrong, you'll just have to live with it. People keep mentioning her in their fics, but I can't figure out where they're getting the info.
This could be McShep preslash. Right now it's up to your interpretation. I'm not saying one way or the other, yet.
Chapter Four: Past Meets Present
Sheppard had been first startled, then mildly annoyed to find McKay in his lab, but once again just standing there like someone had flipped his off switch. Not that John hadn't occasionally - okay, often - wished that the irritating scientist HAD an off switch. But not when he needed McKay's expertise to help him figure out what he had made the Puddle Jumper do this time.
"McKay? McKay! Wake up! Rise and shine!"
The Canadian didn't move, didn't react at all. And now Sheppard noticed that his hands were balled into fists, his jaw was clenched, and the vein in his temple was pulsing furiously. Worried, Sheppard grabbed McKay's arm and shook him - remembering too late that Doctor Heightmeyer had said NOTto do that.
A fraction of a second later, he found himself slammed against the wall, McKay's hands around his throat, crushing his windpipe. The scientist's eyes were wild and full of fury.
"I'll kill you, Richard," he hissed at Sheppard. "You're never going to hurt me again."
John tried to pull McKay's hands off his throat, but the man was unexpectedly strong. Then he tried to push him away, but McKay had a slightly longer reach than Sheppard, and the soldier could only grasp ineffectually at his biceps. He had an instant to be surprised by the muscles he could feel beneath the blue shirt before his vision began to fade around the edges.
Then his thumb felt the small bandage high on McKay's left arm. Instinctively he pressed hard on it, his dimming mind presenting him with the memory of Dr. Beckett telling him that the knife wound made by Kolya was small but deep and had required several stitches.
Warm liquid blossomed under his thumb and he heard McKay cry out in pain and surprise. Rodney loosed his grasp on Sheppard's neck and stumbled away, ending up sprawled on his back.
With McKay no longer holding him up, Sheppard's knees gave way and he fell to the floor, gasping and coughing.
McKay sat where he had landed and stared at John in horror.
"I - I'm sorry," he stuttered. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry - I didn't mean -" he moved toward Sheppard, but stopped when the soldier waved him away.
For a few minutes, Sheppard just knelt there, concentrating on breathing, trying not to cough, waiting for his pulse to stop pounding in his ears. He tried to swallow, found it too painful, and finally croaked, "For God's sake, Rodney," before his voice gave out. He looked up to find McKay pale and shaking.
Oh great he thought wearily. All I need is for him to go into shock
"Pull yourself together, McKay," he commanded hoarsely. The scientist gulped, took a deep breath, and visibly did just that.
"Are you...okay?" he asked John hesitantly.
Sheppard tried to nod and winced. Just moving his head hurt. His throat felt like it was on fire, and he was sure that the imprint of McKay's hands was clearly visible on his neck. Talking was even worse, but he knew that if he didn't get McKay to open up now, he never would.
"Tell me," he managed to say.
McKay pressed trembling hands to his face. He was sweating profusely, and Sheppard began to understand how traumatized he really was. He instinctively reached out and awkwardly patted McKay's shoulder, then cursed himself when McKay jerked away from the touch.
"I'm sorry," John rasped, "you don't have to -" but the scientist interrupted him.
"No," Rodney lowered his hands and took a deep, shuddering breath. "No, I want to tell you. I need to tell you." After a moment, he began to speak quietly, never raising his eyes from his hands where they gripped his knees.
"I don't speak about my family - about my parents, any siblings. Everyone seems to assume that I was an only child. In fact, I had a younger sister and an older brother. About three years older. His name was Richard."
McKay paused and rubbed his sweating palms on his trousers.
"Our parents hated each other. They only married because my mother was pregnant with Richard. They thought another child would help their relationship. It only got worse, and they blamed me. As far as they were concerned, Richard was a sweet, well-behaved and affectionate angel. My sister was too young to be blamed for anything. I was a destructive, whining brat who blamed his brother for everything and hurt himself to get attention. I spent half my childhood trying to convince a parade of shrinks that it wasn't me - it was Richard. He cut me, and told my parents that I had done it to myself. He broke things. The neighbors' pets kept disappearing. And he was...so charming,so reasonable He could lie so convincingly that everyone believed him.
"The only thing that kept me going was music. I found such perfect order and harmony in it. Piano lessons were a place of refuge for me. Music was the one aspect of my life I could control."
Sheppard listened with growing horror and understanding. Rodney closed his eyes. His voice became very quiet and Sheppard had to strain to hear him.
"My father owned a gun. He kept it hidden at the back of a closet. When I was ten and Richard was thirteen, he found it. To make a long story short, he - he shot me. Our father heard the noise and ran into the room. Richard tried to tell him that I'd done it to myself, but it - it's kind of hard to shoot yourself in the back." Rodney grinned mirthlessly for just a moment. "Then he tried to say it was an accident. But the gun hadn't been loaded. He had to break into a locked box to get the bullets. And I guess - I guess my father finally realized that I'd been telling the truth all along.
"When Richard saw that he wasn't going to get away with it this time, he sh-" Rodney's voice suddenly failed him. He licked dry lips and continued hoarsely, "He shot our father."
Several minutes passed before he could go on. His fists were clenched so tightly, his knuckles were white. He had begun to shiver slightly, as if he was freezing cold, but he was still sweating buckets. "My father was there on the floor, coughing up blood. It seemed to take forever for him to die. The bullet that hit me was lodged closed to my spine and I couldn't move, couldn't feel anything from the waist down.
"My mother found us hours later. I spent the next three months in a wheelchair. My brother ran away. We never saw him again. Mother never really got over it. She left me pretty much to my own devices, and I threw myself into my music. A couple of years later, I...quit music and turned to science. She committed suicide when I was twenty-four – when we found out Richard was dead. He was shot in the back and dumped in some alley in Toronto. The day I learned my brother was dead, I felt...free. Safe. I was glad he was dead. For years I'd wanted to kill him myself...
"And then Kolya...it was the look in his eyes when he stuck that knife in my arm. Richard used to look just like that when he..." McKay swallowed convulsively. "It wasn't being stabbed that made me tell him about the power sub-stations. It was that look...he didn't really care what I said. He was ENJOYING it. And suddenly I felt like I was ten years old again, and Richard was-" he broke off and passed a trembling hand over his face.
"I do remember it. Shooting...shooting Kolya. I thought - somehow I thought he was Richard. I thought he had come back for me. And I couldn't - I couldn't -"
McKay's eyes were dry, but wide and staring, unseeing. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to suppress the shivers that wracked his frame.
"I've been having - it's like a dream, a nightmare, only I'm awake. I'll be okay, and then suddenly I'm back there - I'm on the floor, and I can't move, and Dad's lying there, and he's bleeding so much, and Elizabeth looks so scared, and Richard - Kolya - I can't tell which one it is, or maybe it's both of them, and he's laughing..."
He turned to look at Sheppard, who was appalled by the grief and despair he could see on the man's face.
"I know Richard's dead. I know Kolya is dead. But I can't - I can't quite seem to believe it. I wake up at night, certain they've come back. I see them every time I close my eyes."
Sheppard did the only thing he could think of. He sat beside McKay and began to rub his back, exactly as he had done to ease the concussion-induced headaches. He felt the tense muscles under his hand slowly relax. Suddenly, McKay let out an explosive sigh, almost a groan, and tears began to stream down his face. Sheppard sat patiently beside him, saying nothing.
After a while, McKay dried his eyes and stood up. He offered a hand and a tremulous smile to Sheppard, who took the hand and allowed himself to be helped up.
John tried to speak and found that the only sound he could make was a strangled squeak. McKay looked decidedly sheepish.
"If I'd realized this was the way to shut you up, I'd have done it sooner," he said with shaky good humor, watching carefully for John's reaction.
Sheppard rolled his eyes and snarled silently at McKay in mock ferocity.
"Come on. You're going to see Carson, make sure that golden tongue of yours isn't permanently damaged. We'd be in big trouble without you around to charm the natives."
This elicited a snort of suppressed laughter, which ended with a wince, as Sheppard came to the belated realization that Rodney might indeed have put his voice out commission for a while.
TBC
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