AN: Hopefully is over it's little trouble, and here's a big
update. It's rather long, and hopefully you won't mind wading
through to the end!
Not the Daddy…part 25
Pregnancy clock: 8 monthsDrunk. Sheppard felt definitely drunk. He was still fascinated with the red mist that followed his movements with his hand, but he also felt unsteady, giddy almost, and since he hadn't felt that way since he'd been turned into a bug, he had to wonder just what was in that sphere?
But then again, the mist was really cool.
He heard his door chime, but ignored it, because the moving outlay of red had haloed the furniture, and if he moved, it moved, and practically the entire room moved and on the not so cool side, his stomach lurched.
He barely had time to stumble to the toilet before losing breakfast.
By the time he'd meandered poorly back to his bed, the door was opening, and Rodney stood in the hall, frowning at it like it was an animate object intending to keep him away from John, before noticing that the true object of his ire was weaving back to his bed.
"What's wrong?" he snapped, moving forward quickly. "It's the gas you were exposed to, isn't it? Radek told me about it, why he let you touch things in the lab I still have yet to know, and believe me, he's going to hear about this for a lot longer than -"
Sheppard started grinning.
McKay stopped talking and exasperated asked, "What are you smiling about. This isn't funny. You look positively stoned." The words and the thoughts merged and Rodney's ire dissipated. "Oh my god, the baby – why am I standing here talking to you."
John watched as Rodney tapped his ear – why was McKay tapping his ear? But the fascinating thing was Rodney's mist – it was all very red, pulsing red. Almost bordered on violet. Intense man, Sheppard knew, so if he was red, and Rodney was deeper red, did that mean Rodney had him beat in intensity? What was fair about that –
"Sheppard, are you even listening to me?"
"Sure I am," he snickered. "Rodney, did you know you're purple?"
The look on McKay's face was sheer horror. "This is bad," he said, and it seemed it was more to himself than John, and that wasn't exactly nice…
"I'm right here," scolded John. "It's not bad. In fact, it's really cool."
"Colonel," Rodney said with forced patience, "Carson is on his way. Besides the color issues, what are your other symptoms?"
Symptoms? He was having symptoms? "I'm pregnant," he said stupidly. "That's a pretty big symptom. But where's the baby?" And why was McKay looking at him like that. His pretty deep red was growing pale, and cold.
"I'm fine, Rodney. Stop worrying."
"How do you know I'm worrying?" retorted McKay. "And let me assure you, my worry has ratcheted past simple concern to mortal fear."
Sheppard didn't see what the big issue was. It wasn't like people didn't have babies every day – or maybe that's not why McKay was so worried. He leaned towards Rodney conspiratorially, "I won't tell anyone you're the father," he whispered. "Does that make you feel better?"
McKay took a step back and wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I can tell you how much it doesn't." Rodney spun on his foot, and retrieved a washcloth and a cup of water, before handing it to Sheppard, and guiding him down firmly to the bed.
"Your color paled," John said.
Rodney's mental gears clunked. "What?"
"You asked how I could tell you were worrying – your colors paled. It's depressing. Stop worrying."
Under his breath, Rodney muttered, "I wish I could."
The arrival of Beckett, and a couple of medical techs left neither one more time to talk about fading colors and other things.
Sheppard stared at the men as they entered his room, and he pulled back. Lots of colors, fading in and slithering around the three newcomers. Beckett was dark green, and blue, and it was soothing, like the man, but the med techs...
One had sickly yellows and pale greens that made Sheppard want to tell him he was sorry – why, he didn't know, but he got the impression the man was sick from…something. And then the other one, the bigger med tech, had angry purples, and some black, and he just made Sheppard afraid.
"Go away," called John, pushing himself back into the bed, and pulling a pillow between him and everyone else.
Beckett waved to the techs to get behind, and give John space, then he crept forward slowly, holding his hands up. "It's okay, Lad. Nobody wants to hurt you."
Sheppard pulled the pillow back and looked pointedly at the purple and black haloed man saying, "He does. He's mean."
Rodney cast his eyes towards the man Sheppard was accusing, and then back to John. "Colonel, listen, the gas is affecting you. We want to help -"
As if on cue, the techs moved tentatively towards Sheppard, and the thought of the mean man touching him, sent Sheppard scrambling back farther. "No! No no no no! Go away!" He pulled his knees up farther towards his chest, but he didn't get far, because the baby was in the way – but why wasn't the baby there? How could the baby be there, and not there…
"Rodney?" he pleaded. Things were beginning to fall apart. He couldn't make sense of what he was feeling and seeing.
Carson waved McKay forward. "If Rodney stays with you, would you come with us? We only want to help, I promise."
As soon as they stepped towards him, John screamed.
Rodney and Carson froze.
He was scared. The colors on everyone were overwhelming, and his body was losing the ability to screen out background information. Too much. And inside, inside he could feel his baby kicking – his baby – and when he looked down, he saw nothing. There was no baby. They'd taken Traitor, and were going to take him, now.
But he wasn't going to go easily. Why did they take his baby?
Coming to a decision, he swallowed back the fear, and let the pillow fall, nodding uneasily. "Okay."
They bought it. Carson and Rodney both relaxed, and stepped towards him, and that's when John made his move. He jumped up, arms out wide, and took both men in the neck, felling them like an axe to a sapling, and barreled forward, the sudden violence of his act and unexpected move, causing the med techs to gape, and react too slow to stop him.
Sheppard was out the door, and free, before the alarm had even been raised. Now he just had to hide.
OoO
"He did what?" exploded Elizabeth.
Rodney rubbed his sore throat. "Elizabeth, you weren't there – he…it was as if he was losing his mind. He's scared, and now he's out loose in the city without anyone to help. And I can't believe I was stupid enough to trust him!"
Teyla looked almost casually at Ronon – too casually. "We will find him, Doctor McKay."
"Take your stunner pistol, Ronon," Elizabeth called as the two moved towards the doors.
McKay saw both Teyla and Ronon nod grimly, before leaving. He wanted to be with them. Wanted to be there when they found Sheppard, because he knew the colonel wasn't in his right mind, and god only knows how he'd react to seeing the Athosian and Satedan.
"So, you're saying you think it was the influence of the substance he was exposed to in the lab earlier today?" she reiterated, and this time encompassed both McKay and Beckett in her question. "Why wasn't the substance analyzed before he was released?"
Carson was sitting dejectedly on a bed beside McKay. The hits they'd taken in the throat had been hard, and while he'd protested they were fine, Elizabeth had insisted they get looked at. Rodney had thought it was rather amusing that the CMO was being ordered to seek medical care, a fact he was filing away for later, but anyway, now he was digressing. "There wasn't any way to analyze it. Once Radek and Sheppard were taken to the infirmary, the gas had already broken down, there weren't any traces left in the lab. I looked."
Elizabeth's face blanched. "Zelenka?"
"He's fine – or at least, he's normal, for him. The sphere emitted the gas directly in Sheppard's face. Radek was standing to the side, and as I told you, this gas breaks down incredibly fast. He didn't get exposed enough to cause so much as an improvement in his accent."
McKay's explanation didn't seem to mollify her much, but she nodded wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"And how long can we expect Sheppard to remain in this altered state? And the effect on the baby?"
As much as Rodney knew he was intelligent, and fully capable of answering most questions, this one he didn't know. He could only hypothesize, and he didn't like hypothesizing. He didn't like unknowns.
Beckett answered first. "How long – probably no more than twenty-four hours. The biological processes of the body appear to allow the gas to remain active longer than in the atmosphere, however, the effect on the baby – I've no idea, Elizabeth. We've got Dreya on her way to the infirmary, and here we can at least monitor the baby and hope the wee one shows no signs of distress. If there is some transference, and bloody well I wish I knew more how this bond worked between them, but we might have to take the baby early."
Rodney felt his heart seize. Thirty-two weeks. Safer, but still not entirely safe. "You think so?" he asked Carson, trying to keep breathing.
He had a secret, and he wasn't one to share his secrets. This baby had to make it, and not just because he knew John would blame himself it the kid didn't, but because it meant as much to Rodney as it did to John. Somewhere along the way, the kid had stolen his heart, and he hadn't even known he had it to give.
Carson was watching him too intently, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Are we done? I want to help look for Sheppard."
Elizabeth looked over at Beckett, who nodded. "Aye, but be careful Rodney, he's not thinking straight."
As if he didn't know. Kind of hard to miss when Sheppard hits you in the throat and takes off –
"Really, Carson, because I think I missed it somewhere between getting punched and falling on my ass."
"Rodney," cautioned Elizabeth.
Right. Sheppard. He swung his feet off the bed, and stood, only swaying a little. He'd have a bruise, and when Sheppard was back to himself, he wasn't going to let him forget what he'd done, but for now he'd have to deal with the soreness and find Sheppard. "Going," he replied.
Now he just had to find Ronon and Teyla, because they tended to be good to have around when there were crazy violent people threatening you, and he didn't feel like giving John a second chance to take him out.
OoO
Sheppard ducked into a deserted hall. So far, so good. He'd made it into the lower levels without being seen. His mind was screaming at him. Hide…hide! They're coming for you…but he didn't see anyone coming, and he was lonely. He wanted McKay back. Rodney would know what they'd done to his baby – yet, he still felt Traitor kicking. Why was Traitor kicking if he wasn't there?
He was so tired. He just wanted to stop, and sit.
A door slid open in front of him, and he ducked in, taking it as an invitation. The room was dark, and John issued a quick order to Atlantis to raise the lights, and when she did, the room displayed its starkness. There were lab counters, and containers, and nothing else.
Nobody, and nothing good.
Why was this happening?
John tried to remember, but all he got were confusing images of himself standing in a lab, and holding a ball. But he didn't play baseball, and he couldn't remember why he had it in the first place.
Sighing with fatigue, he backed into a corner at the farthest end of the room away from the door, and slid down till he was sitting. He felt awkward, and wondered at the odd sense of a swollen stomach – but there wasn't any baby there anymore, was there? Traitor kicked, hard, as if trying to tell him that he was still there, but he wasn't. John almost cried. Nothing made sense.
Would someone help him?
But who could he trust? They'd taken away his baby. He couldn't trust anyone.
He gave in to the tiredness, and dropped his chin to his chest. The odd misty colors still jaunted about his body, and he closed his eyes against the constant invasion. He was so tired –
OoO
McKay followed behind Ronon and Teyla, with the LSD out, and patched in to the main sensors for the city.
"You said he was down here?" he barked into the radio. "There's nothing down here! It's deserted."
Radek's thick voice responded irritably. "Rodney, it is on sensors. I read sensors as well as you. Keep straight, go left ten meters. Life sign where no other life signs are, must be Colonel."
"If he's not there, you're scrubbing pipes for a week," threatened Rodney.
"Doctor McKay, should we not focus on finding Colonel Sheppard?" prodded Teyla.
Ronon snorted.
"That's what I am doing!" he snapped crossly. "Just because I have doubts about a certain person's abilities -"
"Rodney!" scolded Elizabeth. "Enough."
When did she get on the comms? McKay shrugged, only a little apologetically, which was lost on Zelenka because they weren't running on video, only audio. "Fine, fine. I just get – anxious, when things are wrong, okay?"
It was who he was. They'd have to deal with it. He'd dealt with it his entire life.
"Were here," rumbled Ronon. He pulled out his stun pistol.
"Hey, hey! No shooting!" Rodney didn't want Sheppard traumatized worse that he already was. "At least, not until he goes for my throat again," he amended. Maybe shooting was good after all.
The door slid open, and the lights displayed an empty room. McKay squinted inward, and cursed Zelenka at the same time. He tapped the comm. "He's not here! I told you -"
"McKay," called Ronon, stopping his tirade. "There." Ronon pointed in the very back corner.
Rodney's eyes froze on a slumped figure. It wasn't moving, and McKay felt his heart skip a beat. Literally. "Oh my god," he breathed.
Before he could think about the stupidity of what he was doing, his feet carried him towards the figure.
"Doctor McKay!" called Teyla, trying to carry her voice to him without going as far back as Sheppard. "Be careful."
He kept going. What if Sheppard wasn't alive? What if the gas had killed him, and he'd crawled into this corner all alone, and died –
– Sheppard heard a noise. Footfalls, and he jolted in fear, throwing his head up. It connected painfully with something – someone, and that someone howled, and fell back.
"My nose! He broke my nose!"
John focused on the purple haze that was Rodney McKay, and frowned at the blood pouring down his face. "Rodney?"
"Yes, Rodney," he mumbled around his hands cupping his face. "What is wrong with you? God, I'm going to be black and blue before you come down from this trip."
Trip? He'd gone on a trip? But that didn't explain where his baby was, and why everyone looked so funny. His senses alerted him to others, and he backed further into the corner. "You brought more. Make them go away, Rodney. I don't want them to take me next. Please, I just want to be alone."
He felt scared, and he didn't know why. It was overwhelming. His skin was crawling with the fear. Can you die from fright? Because, he felt he was going to. And he didn't want to die. But they'd taken Traitor – would they take him next, and where? Why could he still feel Traitor if he was gone?
"McKay," he whispered raggedly. "I don't know what's happening. I know you can make it stop. You always make things stop." He turned his eyes towards the man, and the shades of purple mixed with the blood dripping between his hands made him want to howl more. "Make it stop," he pleaded again.
Ronon leapt forward just as Sheppard collapsed, his head rolling limply to the side, and kept up only by Ronon's muscled arm.
And the lump that settled thickly in McKay's throat had nothing to do with the hit he'd taken earlier.
OoO
Rodney shifted uncomfortably in the unyielding plastic chair, trying unsuccessfully to ease aching muscles. He reached a hand and scratched at his bandaged nose, and regretted it when he hit a spot too hard, and pain spiked through his head.
He wasn't good with pain. Pain was bad, and bad things weren't part of Rodney McKay's perfect world.
Then again, most of what he'd been living since coming to the Pegasus galaxy qualified as Things Not Okay with Rodney McKay.
And the man lying in the bed was no exception. Sheppard was a soldier. A grunt, the macho man type that he'd hated growing up, the kind of person that looked at McKay with dislike and antipathy in school – yet, Sheppard hadn't from the beginning and Rodney didn't think he ever would've, even when John was a kid.
Somehow, he kind of thought, that John was the kid who befriended the outcasts. Or, maybe he was wrong, and Sheppard had matured with age. It wasn't like he had the cornerstone on an ability to understand people.
Why had he gotten so wrapped up with a soldier? Where had it started?
He'd been dismayed, and a little jealous, when John made the chair sing like he was born to it. It'd been annoying enough to have to prod others into trying to coax the Ancient tech, but to have some stranger waltz in, and ask innocently, 'Did I do that?' when what he'd done was nothing short of amazing.
Why did Sheppard have to be so…Sheppard.
Rodney couldn't even figure out when they'd become friends. He'd snapped at the soldier like he'd done to everyone else. Treated him with the same scathing scorn that he treated everyone else with, and then Sheppard had rocked his world by not getting mad. He returned it back, and with vigor. Soon, McKay went out of his way to poke John. And John poked him right back.
Then it became a game. To see who could best the other with comebacks. And then the game had changed to something else – friendship, respect. Of all the people on Atlantis, there was only one who really got him, and one who trusted him at a level like no one else. Nobody in his life had ever believed in him like Sheppard.
And Rodney believed in John the same way. If they were in over their heads, Sheppard would get 'em out alive. He knew that Sheppard would die trying to save their lives. So far, they'd made it. And when John had actually almost died to save the city, and give them time, he'd realized just how much he would've missed the one person he could call friend. And that had sucked, royally, and he'd spent the next week pissed off because Rodney McKay wasn't the friend type. He was a loner, and caring about other people was dangerous. Emotional investment. It'd been a while since he'd let it happen.
He sighed. He should be in his lab, working, but again he wasn't. Again he was sitting with Sheppard, and getting farther behind. There were going to be a lot of sleepless nights after this baby was born.
And on that thought, a huge grin broke out, because it was perfect! He could cart the kid to the lab when he was being honery and wouldn't sleep. If he had to be up anyway, he could let Dreya get some rest and spend some quality time with the kid. He'd have to remember to bring it up with her –
"Rodney?"
McKay almost fell out of his chair. He'd been so wrapped in his thoughts, he hadn't seen Sheppard wake up.
"You're awake," he said surprised. Brilliant, Rodney, great powers of observation, and he'd just bitched at Sheppard not long ago for the same thing. Lucky for him, Sheppard probably wasn't in any shape to remember.
"Am I really here?" asked John.
McKay didn't like that. He narrowed his eyes at the man on the bed. He was small, and fragile looking under the blankets, and with lines going underneath, taking care of his bodily functions and things. Beckett had explained why there were so many wires, but Rodney had tuned him out about halfway into it. It didn't matter anyway. All he'd needed to know was that it was keeping Sheppard running.
"You're here, or I'm in trouble. Last I checked I wasn't a figment of anyone's imagination."
Apparently that amused Sheppard, because he chuckled hoarsely, which prompted McKay to get a glass of water, and bend the straw towards John's mouth.
After Sheppard had taken a drink, he lay back tiredly. "As if I'd dream you up," he said with a grimace.
Sheppard was already closing his eyes again, and McKay decided to let the comment go. John needed sleep, more than he needed the bantering. There was always time later. And as Sheppard drifted off again, McKay settled back into the chair, wishing his aching back would stop bitching at him.
OoO
When John next woke, it was to Traitor kicking him. But hadn't they taken Traitor? Confused, he opened his eyes, and looked down at his belly. It was as flat as ever, but his mind was telling him it was huge and swollen, as before. What had happened?
"Hello, John," Dreya greeted warmly.
Sheppard jerked in surprise. He hadn't known she was there. When he rolled his head towards her, he noticed her large very pregnant belly, and looked down at his own. It was hers, or it should be, and he squinted against the conflicting thoughts.
His mind was firing like a faulty spark plug. His memory was sparking in places and leaving gaps, but slowly, the priming of being awake started smoothing over the misfires, and memories started to fill in.
"The baby?" he asked after a while. "It wasn't hurt by the substance?"
Dreya reached for his arm, clasping a warm hand over his skin. He thought back to what Teyla had said, and almost wanted to pull away.
"The baby's fine, John. You were the only one, again, who had a hard time. How are you feeling?"
"Slightly – confused," he said. "It's a little blurry."
Blurry was probably the best explanation. In fact, it was a lot blurry – all the images in his mind were vivid colors but nothing was clear. It's like when you take a picture, and hit the button before focusing the lens. That was a pretty good idea of what all his memories looked like after he'd gone to his quarters to rest.
"Rodney was very worried, all of your friends were," she said. Then looking at him very intently she added softly, "I was very worried."
Oh, boy. Traitor kicked strongly, as if sensing his turmoil. "Dreya, you're a lovely woman, really, and if I hadn't had the chance to experience everything – well, I'm sure my life wouldn't be as…interesting," he stumbled in his explanation.
He'd worked through his anger, depression, and even violation. He'd come to terms with her actions, and gotten to know her. He'd fallen for the small baby kicking at his insides at any given time, even though the baby wasn't physically there, he'd grown to feel a closeness with the baby that he couldn't explain – and she'd given him that. And he'd love her because of it, but – "I'm not your husband," he finished. "It's not a job I'm willing to take."
She seemed hurt, and on the cusp of literally wilting, and he begged her inside not to, but the strength that had seen her this far, through the loss of her husband, bonding a man so different and resentful, and the emotional roller coaster of those emotions, along with the possible threats to her child because of health complications, and yet she was still standing.
Sheppard saw the chin stiffen, and her eyes didn't tear up anymore than they'd started to. But she did smile, and her lips trembled just a little.
"I understand, but know this, Colonel John Sheppard, you are an amazing man, and though I regret putting you through all this, I don't regret that my impulsive decisions brought you into my life, and my child's – our child's."
He didn't know what to say, and she spared him trying to come up with something. She withdrew her hand, and awkwardly rose from the chair, still smiling warmly, and he thought she truly was lovely, with her dark hair falling in ringlets around her oval face, and rosy cheeks that are part of the glowing pregnancy package – but she wasn't what he was looking for, and it wasn't to be.
At least she was letting them be friends by accepting that which couldn't be changed. He wanted, more and more, to be in this baby's life. If either one had chosen the path of bitterness for the situation life handed them, he wouldn't have been able to.
It was easy to be bitter, and angry – but it took a lot of guts to let those feelings go, and as he'd said before, Sheppard was many things, but he wasn't a coward. He was relieved to see, neither was Dreya.
He watched her go, and thought about a lot of things. Eventually, tiredness reclaimed him into a dreamless sleep.
oOo
"Rodney, he's eight months pregnant, he's going to sleep a lot!"
"He's recovering from an unknown substance, shouldn't you be waking him up every two hours?" McKay retorted.
Sheppard had been sleeping. The key thing there was had. Until the blustering conversation between Beckett and Rodney woke him up.
Letting one eye slide open enough to see, Sheppard saw Rodney standing a couple feet off from his bed, and Beckett across from McKay. Rodney was in typical confrontation mode, and Carson was responding in kind. The thing that had him a little confused, and John was getting a little sick of that state of being, was that Rodney's nose was covered in a thick white bandage, and he sounded nasally. Looked like someone finally couldn't resist the urge to punch him one.
Setting aside his curiosity about McKay's nose, he debated letting them have it out, but he was tired, and Traitor was kicking from the noise.
"Shhhhh, you're waking the baby," he whispered.
The response was immediate, as he'd figured it would be, and he almost chuckled from how panicked McKay's response was. Until Rodney's surprise over Sheppard being awake, and his not-so-much guilt at waking him, allowed his mind to catch up with the words and he gave Sheppard a dirty look.
"Very funny."
John tried to fight against the smile, but it didn't work. "No, seriously. All that arguing isn't good for the baby. She's listening, you know – and Carson knows they hear at this point. So, no arguing. You want to do something productive and play opera for the kid, fine, but no arguing around me. Talk about corrupting the cradle."
Carson was relieved enough to see him awake that he didn't take the bait. "How you're feeling, Colonel? Mind catching up more now?"
Dreya had told on him. He'd thought he'd hid his sluggish memory well. "Mostly, though I have to admit I can't remember McKay's accident with his nose."
"Accident!" McKay blustered, but it came out sounding more like accibent. "The only accident I had was getting close enough to you. You're head can be classified as a lethal weapon!"
Most of Sheppard's memories had come back, but not that one. Still, he figured he'd gotten one up on McKay, and while he was in an altered state and therefore not culpable, so maybe the whole freaky trip was worth it…a little.
Beckett was smiling ruefully at McKay, but he spoke to Sheppard. "The substance affected you like, well, think of a bad trip on a hallucinogenic drug. It caused visual hallucinations, paranoia, confusion – but fortunately, short lived. By the time your team found you, it was almost dissipated in your blood stream. The good news, the baby is fine – the bad news, you'll be my guest for another day at least."
As if he wasn't getting used to being stuck here. John shrugged and said, "Just remember, when this is over, I don't ever want to see this room again."
Wisely, Carson refrained from mentioning that he'd still rack up frequent patient miles due to off-world missions.
"I want you to rest, and any unusual symptoms, let me know." Beckett looked to McKay, "Don't stay long."
Carson left them alone, heading off to deal with other patients. Even as he left, Sheppard heard his soft brogue talking to a scientist who had inadvertently touched a plant on another world, and had a bad reaction. He looked like a teenage kid with severe acne. Mentally shuddering, John turned his attention back to McKay.
Apparently Rodney didn't lose track of the earlier statement about corruption, McKay, and babies, because the first thing out of his mouth was, "If anyone is corrupting the kid, it's you. I'm a good influence, you – you're fast cars, and alien women. Loose morals and -"
Funny how quickly life reverts back to normal. "While your method of rudeness, and running all over other people is preferable," said John feigning agreement.
"Exactly."
The smug look was in place, thought it was kind of spoiled by the gauze plastered on his nose, and John wondered again where he'd gone wrong.
Sheppard started to push himself up, struggling with the weight of a large pregnant belly, "Rodney," he grunted, "a little help."
McKay switched from smug to overbearing in zero to ten, helping him up, adjusting the bed, John's pillows, and would he like some more water until finally "Enough!" Sheppard shouted, pushing away at the water. "I'm pregnant, not dying, damn it."
"The way you carry on, it's easy to mistake the two!"
Rodney's unexpected outburst stopped them both. McKay had been a picture of unfettered calm in the face of Sheppard's antagonism, and fury, for almost the span of his psuedo-pregnancy, and for him to snap now kind of acted like a slap in the face for John.
A light slap.
"As opposed to you. Sliver to retrovirus, remember?"
McKay's face was unruffled again. Back to that easy going 'you're not going to piss me off' look.
"You sure you don't need any water? Some Jell-O? Or maybe some Milk of Magnesia, for all those," Rodney waved a hand, "plumbing issues."
Sheppard realized that McKay really did bring new meaning to the word insufferable…
"Why are you doing this to me, Rodney? Is it some payment for a sin in another life? What?"
Rodney had settled back in his chair after helping Sheppard get settled, and now he regarded Sheppard with an odd look that John couldn't place.
"You've given me a second chance," McKay blurted after the silence had ticked into awkwardness.
The funny thing was, it was a toss up who was more surprised by his admission. John, or Rodney.
"A second chance?" prodded John. Walk softly through gardens of cultivated hurt – McKay was a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve, but Sheppard also knew that there was a good deal of Rodney McKay that most people would ever see. And he knew that this was part of that McKay, and Rodney was letting him see it. He didn't know whether to be touched, or afraid. He didn't want that trust. But, Sheppard also didn't want to let his friend down, so he gave McKay the opening, and waited, rubbing Traitor soothingly as the baby did a roll across his belly.
"It's funny," started Rodney, pulling his finger to his mouth like he does when he gets nervous, "you spend years running away from something you wish you could go back to. I was almost a Dad – bet you never thought that was possible," he laughed, but it was harsh, abrupt.
Rodney, a father? As much as McKay attracted kids, he ran from them, and with a clarity that surprised him, now John knew why. "What happened?"
McKay's sardonic grin was plastered in place. "My girlfriend wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. She said she wasn't interested in being a mom, that she had her life ahead of her and she was too young to settle down."
When Rodney's voice cracked, John almost cried for him. "She had an abortion," and it was a statement, not a question.
All of a sudden McKay's annoying behavior fell into place. He almost wished he didn't know. For a man like McKay, being in control was important. He panicked when situations fell out of his ability to direct. To have no say in the life or death of his child, it must've taken a chunk out of his soul.
"I'm sorry," he said lamely. "But girlfriend?" Okay, let's face it, he and Rodney, it was love and hate in equal amounts, and neither one did the mushy stuff very well. Everyone had their limits, and lately his had been stretched more than his typical elasticity allowed.
"Yes, I had a girlfriend," McKay scowled. "There are women who find intelligence attractive, besides, there's nothing wrong with me."
"If you like dating a porcupine," snorted John.
McKay sat up straighter, dropping his finger from his lips. "What are you implying? Because I can be a good date."
"You're a cheap date, McKay. I've seen you at movie night, remember?"
"Look who's talking," Rodney snapped defensively. "Anyway, you're stuck with me now. You're having my baby – so deal with it."
And Sheppard had always thought McKay was complicated.
"Tell you what, Rodney. This baby is about as much yours as it is mine, so we'll share if Dreya lets us, how about that?" He figured as much as Rodney had been there for him, Sheppard owed a little back.
Rodney's boyish grin encompassed Sheppard. "I've already developed a schedule. I'll take the hours from midnight to four, because I'm always up in my lab anyway, while you can take the time from nine to midnight, and Dreya can pick up the slack after four -"
"A schedule?" echoed John. "Nine to midnight."
McKay's grin slipped a little. "I thought it was more than fair, generous even – I've got four hours, and you've only got three, but that's because I figure you'll have to cover more duty during the day when were not off on missions -"
"Are we even on the same planet?" spluttered John.
"Colonel, I realize you're recovering from some psychoactive trip to Never Never Land, but it'd be helpful if you'd focus on the important issues at hand, mainly dividing up the baby's care, and did you know that Dreya is breastfeeding? She said she's talked with Carson and will try to pump enough for night feedings so we can share - "
The rest of the conversation faded into nothingness for Sheppard, because the only thing he heard was breastfeeding. Breastfeeding. He pulled the scrub top out and looked down. They looked normal. Didn't look bigger. That was good. Because sympathetic breasts, that'd probably be too much.
Traitor kicked him, hard. "Hey, don't blame me. Looks like the twenty-four hour milk bar is not stopping at the Sheppard station."
McKay stopped talking, and stared at him for a moment. "You sure you didn't suffer brain damage from the gas?"
The only damage was what he was going to do to Rodney. "McKay -" he started to say, but he didn't get to finish, because he felt a tightening beginning down low, and his groin began to feel like baby was being pushed down hard into it.
He found something to grab on to, as the contraction built, and got higher, and seemed to go on forever till it finally began to ease. When it ended he was shaky and sweaty, and staring at McKay. "Get Beckett. Traitor's trying to stage an escape run -" he'd hardly managed to finish before another began, and then Rodney's hand was there and he grabbed on for dear life, because if he didn't, he'd get lost in the pain and never find his way out.
Sheppard was struggling to ride the wave of the contraction, and never even heard Beckett arrive –
TBC