The Puppet Master
Chapter Nine - The East Pier
Sheppard chased him through several corridors, McKay weaving his way through the city aimlessly, ignoring any pleas for him to stop. Even when he caught up to the scientist, the man wouldn't look at him, studying his feet as they tripped over each other, muttering incoherent whispers to his chest. Sheppard's first instinct was to grab him, pull him to a halt but he held back, afraid of the reaction if he tried. When they approached an external door he hesitated, considered radioing for help, then changed his mind and followed McKay outside. Whatever his friend needed, it wasn't an audience.
The sky was overcast, a deep shade of grey. Fat, heavy clouds threatened rain and a strong wind whipped the sea into a fine mist, quickly coating both men in a fine layer of damp. McKay stumbled out onto the metal pathway, stopping several meters from the door and looking up with a confused expression.
Questioningly: "Major –"
Sheppard panted, mostly from desperation. "Glad you've stopped running."
McKay turned with wild eyes and a haunted look. "Where are we?"
"East pier." He watched Rodney look about him, out at the ocean, then back.
"You keep following me."
"I want to talk to you."
McKay shook his head, turning to stride out along the pier. John chased after him.
"McKay, this is ridiculous. Just stop for a minute. Let me talk to you –"
Without warning the other man turned in a sharp, violent movement, jabbing out with one hand. An ugly shade of brown mottled the badly wrapped bandage. "Leave me alone. Chasing me, watching me, spying on me, you and everyone else. You think you can keep me in a box but you can't because, well," and he gurgled a laugh, "obviously, I'm here, but you still keep coming and staring and watching and I won't go back! You hear me! I won't –"
Sheppard reached out to grab McKay's flailing wrist without thinking. The reaction was instant.
"Don't touch me!" A high pitched, strangled cry and McKay staggered backwards, stumbling against the railing and out towards the sea.
Sheppard swore, and forced his feet to take a step back. "Jesus, Rodney, what the hell is wrong with you?"
A snort, as McKay levered himself off the railing and back to his unsteady feet. "What's wrong with me? What about you, Major? Don't you think you're a little obsessed?"
"With what?" He took a breath, struggling to lower his voice. "I'm just worried about you."
And now you sound like Kate, or any other damn military psychologist, condescending and fake. Professional.
He took a different path. "What happened back there?"
"Accident." McKay's gaze darted back fearfully at the door. "It was an accident. I don't – I don't mean for anyone to get hurt."
"Never thought you did." He tried to insert some level of normality into his voice, to pretend they were just bantering. "I thought the great Rodney McKay didn't make mistakes."
"I do," came back the response, in a soft hush. "I make them all the time. Try to cover them up, but I don't know what I'm doing."
"I don't believe that."
"No? Ask Dr Ashcroft, hmm?"
"And how many times has one of Kavanagh's slip-ups almost cost you an arm?" Sheppard challenged. "Carson's always got a geek in the infirmary. You said it was a side-effect of experimentation. No gain without pain."
"Doesn't that sound wrong to you?" McKay shot back. "People shouldn't get hurt." And he turned away, out to the ocean, pulling at the bandage on his hand. "People always do, though. Things happen I can't control." Glanced back at Sheppard. "I'm dangerous."
"Jesus," and Sheppard scraped a hand through his hair roughly. "Rodney, what happened to Gaul –"
"My brother."
He stopped, momentarily thrown. "You don't have a brother."
McKay looked at him sadly. "No, you're right." And fresh blood stained the brown, his thumb ripping and tugging at the flesh beneath the bandage.
Sheppard tried not to notice. "You never mentioned him."
"He died. A long time ago." Rodney took a breath, turning back out to the sea. "A lifetime ago."
Weakly: "I didn't know."
A shrug. "No reason you should." Added, darkly: "That was my fault. I was confused. It's not like…" McKay's voice drifted into silence, and he started rocking back and forth on his heels.
"Come inside," Sheppard encouraged. "It's freezing out here. I thought you caught a cold like that." And he snapped his fingers.
His words were either not heard, or ignored.
"Why do you trust me?"
John paused, swallowing, struggling to answer. "Because you're, well, you, McKay. You've proved yourself." Joked: "You want me to massage your ego?"
"I make mistakes."
"One mistake, Rodney. No permanent harm done. Look," and he stepped forward hesitantly, "let's go inside, get something to eat. It's been a long day."
Again he was ignored. "Mistakes."
"Stop saying that." He took a deep breath. "The McKay I know wouldn't admit he's human."
"Fallible, you mean." McKay leant against the railing, pushing his face out into the thickly wet wind. "And you don't. Know me. You've got no idea."
"See, I disagree," Sheppard argued, taking another step. "Okay, so right now you're off your game, but don't go playing the martyr, McKay, because you're not the only one. We've lost people. And what's happened can mess with your head. I know, I've been there, bought the goddamn t-shirt."
"So?" Rodney asked, tiredly.
"So I trusted people enough to let them help me." He took another breath, and another step. "We can sort this out. Get your head straight."
He caught a glimpse of blue as McKay turned, lifting his head to look at Sheppard sadly. "And you'd help?"
"Me, Elizabeth, Ford and Teyla." And then, because he could see no better moment: "And sometimes, to talk to a professional –"
McKay stiffened, expression closing into one of anger and resentment, eyes glaring at Sheppard suspiciously. "Doctors. Should have known." And the stutter was back. "Ulterior m-motives. Tricky th-things, everyone's got them."
He panicked, realizing he'd lost control of the situation. Desperately: "McKay –"
"L-lies, Major. You're sinking in them." And then the blue eyes widened. "That's why I'm still here. In Atlantis. Why the m-mission was cancelled."
"Monsoon season, McKay, you heard Peter –"
"You and Elizabeth!" One hand pointed wildly at him. "You're both doing this! You want me locked up!"
"No –"
"A liability!"
"Dammit!" And he took another step forward, forcing McKay to move backwards. "Look at yourself, McKay! This isn't normal! I know somewhere in that incredibly stubborn brain of yours you know that and if you would just –"
The punch came out of nowhere, a closed fist connecting with Sheppard's jaw firmly and knocking him from the slippery wet metal surface of the pier onto his ass. Before he could struggle to his feet McKay was running, back along the pier towards the city.
"McKay!"
Grabbing hold of the railing, Sheppard hauled himself to his feet, cursing inwardly. He started to run after the physicist but he was too slow, and the door closed in his face.
And wouldn't open.
"Dammit!"
He hammered on the door, ineffectually. Ordered the computer to open it only for his instruction to be ignored.
"McKay!"
As though anyone could hear him over the sound of the wind.
It wasn't the cold of the rain soaking his jacket that caused him to shiver.
