Stuck!
Chapter Eight: Rodney-Sitting
The salvage operation on the Ancient shrink-o-matic took most of the afternoon. Sheppard and Dex passed the time with perimeter patrols and alternating shifts of what the colonel had dubbed "Rodney-sitting."
Sheppard sidestepped a Wraith skeleton and drew in a lungful of cool forest air, selfishly grateful that it was Dex, and not him, stuck indoors with mini-McKay right now.
Every tool that slipped out of his too-small fingers, every absent-minded pat on the head from one of his former underlings, drove McKay a little more berserk. The last time Sheppard checked on him, he was bouncing off the walls-unable to sit still, unable to concentrate on a problem long enough to work out a solution. The scientist's brilliant mind was in a losing fight with the child's hyperactive body. It also meant he was getting harder to control.
The sound of muffled cursing on the mountain trail caught Sheppard's attention. He grinned as the voice got louder and closer and took on a noticeable Scottish burr.
The young Marine he'd sent back to the Gate for the scheduled check-in with Atlantis trudged into view. Behind him stomped Carson Beckett, swearing like a fishwife. Sheppard took a prudent step back as the doctor barreled by him, muttering something about paddling somebody's little britches.
He turned and cocked an eyebrow at the corporal. "Let me guess. Dr. Weir's not happy either."
The soldier swallowed, looking a bit wild-eyed. "No sir. Not very happy at all."
Sheppard sighed and followed Beckett into the medical center. He'd bought McKay as much time as he could.
[{O}]
The pieces did not fit. Rodney sighed and shuffled the broken bits of crystal into a slightly different pattern on the floor before him. He was sprawled on his belly with his chin propped on one fist and his pinkish shoes kicking absently in the air.
He squinted at the new arrangement. It still didn't look like it would fit the empty slot in the half-melted control panel Zelenka was fussing over. In fact, it looked more like a...dinosaur. Rodney nibbled on his lower lip and painstakingly shifted a few fragments into the outline of a gaping, pointy-toothed maw. Grrrargh, dinosaur.
Satisfied, he looked around, ready for the next project.
"What?" he snapped at Zelenka and the knot of technicians who were standing around, staring at him. He scrambled to his feet and flapped his hands at them, gesturing wildly. "Don't you people have work to do? Ancient fountains of youth to fix? If this little assignment is too much for you, I'm sure we could send for Beckett. Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll trigger some other piece of equipment and shrink me down to a fetus!"
And suddenly he was airborne again. Before he could so much as yelp, Rodney found himself dangling nose-to-nose with a red-faced and furious Beckett.
"Carson," he wheezed, giving the doctor what he hoped was a winning smile. "What brings you here?"
Without a word, Beckett tucked the underage scientist under his arm and headed for the exit.
Sheppard intercepted them. McKay's howls of protest were taking on a frantic note. If it had been an ordinary child, he would have said the 4-year-old was working himself into a good old fashioned floor-kicking tantrum.
Beckett halted, fighting to keep hold of the small form as it flailed and twisted, trying to break his grip and slither to freedom. Sharp tiny nails dug into his forearm and pink heels beat a tattoo against his ribcage. Sheppard held up a warning hand and gently extricated Rodney, setting him carefully on the floor, feet-first.
"Take it easy, Doc," he said, keeping his tone mild as McKay scooted around him, out of grabbing distance. "I think Rodney's had enough piggyback rides for one day."
For a minute, he thought Beckett was going to pitch a fit of his own.
Instead, the doctor seemed to deflate, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, eye-level with McKay. He rubbed dolefully at his temples. "Aye," he sighed, looking wan and wrung-out now that he wasn't fueled by adrenaline and fear for his missing patient. "I'm sorry I grabbed you like that, Rodney. I don't know what I was thinking."
McKay uncrossed his arms and his dimpled little chin lost its belligerent tilt. With a sigh of his own, he mimicked Carson's slide to the floor. His childish face twisted into a familiar crooked smile.
"Well, yes, I should hope so," he mumbled. He snuck a peek up at Sheppard, hovering over him, then back at Zelenka and the watching scientists. "Although I suppose I might not be dealing with this situation in the most, er, mature fashion. Either. On occasion."
"You never should have left Atlantis, Rodney," Beckett said softly. "Your body's undergone a tremendous shock and I need you where I can monitor your condition. To say nothing of the fact that you violated a direct order from Dr. Weir when you snuck off like that."
McKay paled slightly at that reminder, while Sheppard and Beckett looked suddenly much more cheerful.
"Okay guys!" Sheppard spun on his heel and headed toward Zelenka's crew, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Load up the jumper with everything you're going to need. It's time to get back to Atlantis."
[{O}]
Elizabeth Weir and Kate Heightmeyer stood shoulder-to-shoulder, glaring daggers at the Puddle Jumper as it cruised through the Gate.
"They look mad," Dex observed, leaning casually over the back of the co-pilot's seat as he studied the stony visages of the two women. As the little craft began its smooth rise to the jumper bay, Dex reached down and rested a steadying hand on the figure curled up asleep in the co-pilot's chair.
In the typical fashion of four-year-olds, McKay had run himself ragged and now napped like the dead. The ship settled into its berth and the back hatch opened. Beckett, who was no happier going through the Gate on a ship than he was on foot, relaxed his death grip on the edge of his seat and moved toward his patient.
He checked McKay's pulse and rested a hand against his forehead for a moment, frowning slightly at the heat he felt there. "Just sleeping," he said, keeping his voice low as the technicians began shifting crates of equipment and salvaged parts off the ship. "But it looks like Rodney's going to be needing at least one more pig-a-back ride today. Colonel? If you'd do the honors?"
Someday, Sheppard thought ruefully, he'd learn not to tangle with Beckett. With exaggerated care, he hoisted up McKay, who flopped in his arms, boneless as a rag doll.
Weir and Heightmeyer were waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. Heightmeyer, he noticed, had dust smudged across her chin and what looked like cobwebs clinging to her hair.
Weir opened her mouth and drew a deep breath - which caught in her throat as Ronon Dex suddenly loomed over her, scowling.
"Shhh," the warrior admonished, holding a finger to his lips. "The little man is sleeping."
Shamelessly, Sheppard pivoted to give the women a good look at the flushed, sleeping and utterly adorable face of Rodney McKay as it lolled against his shoulder.
Weir's jaw clenched. Her teeth ground audibly and a tiny muscle jumped and twitched on her jawline as she took in the sight. Heightmeyer's eyes bulged and she bit back a noise that sounded suspiciously like "awwwww."
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." Carson gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "I really do need to get Rodney to the infirmary."
The tic moved from Weir's jaw line to her left eyelid. "Fine," she ground out. "Dr. Heightmeyer and I were just finalizing a few plans for Dr. McKay's immediate future."
Sheppard, Dex and Beckett hustled the sleeping child off to the infirmary with that ominous thought hanging over their heads.
[{O}]
One thing hadn't changed in the year and a half since they reoccupied Atlantis. The city could still get damn creepy at night. Especially in the infirmary, when the dim lights started casting weird shadows over the walls.
Rodney shivered and tucked his feet under the hem of his oversized hospital gown.
He no longer fit in his own world. Yesterday, he could have hopped off the infirmary bed and headed back to his lab. Now, the drop to the floor looked more like a leap off a two-story building. There was a laptop on the bedside table, but he couldn't quite reach it and his stupid baby fingers couldn't span the keyboard anyway.
To top it all, his puny new body had betrayed him again-falling asleep in the middle of a mission and leaving him to wake up marooned on an impossibly tall bed in the middle of a deserted infirmary, dressed in nothing but a butt-baring hospital gown. Mortifying.
A soft cough reminded him that the infirmary wasn't entirely empty.
"Teyla?" he whispered, turning to study the huddled figure on the neighboring bed. "You all right?"
The Athosian's withered face still held traces of its former beauty, more so when she smiled. Flapping a hand to wave away his concern, she reached for the glass of water on the bedside table. Her fingertips brushed the plastic and set the cup bouncing to the floor. Teyla slumped back against the pillows.
"I am still here, Rodney," she said softly. "I am not going anywhere."
Rodney was already wriggling off the bed, his bare butt dangling over the abyss. "Good," he grunted, sliding gracelessly over the edge of the mattress until he was hanging on mainly by his fingernails and his chin. "Stay...right-oof!"
He fell, landing in a heap on the chilly infirmary floor. He picked himself up and cast a furtive look around.
Beckett was in his office, squinting at a computer screen as if the light hurt his eyes. An oversized bottle of aspirin, half-empty, rested by his elbow. Sheppard was sacked out on a bed across the aisle, snoring softly.
Rodney padded over to Teyla, dusted off the cup and clambered up on the bedside chair. With great care, he hefted the monstrously oversized water pitcher, refilled the glass without too much spillage and offered it to her.
"Thank you," she whispered, smiling around the rim of the cup. Her eyes hadn't changed, Rodney realized. It was still Teyla in there, with the same serene gaze and wry twinkle in her eye.
It made him wonder what the others saw when they looked into his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said, hearing his reedy new voice break over the words. "I never wanted this. I'd give these years back to you right now if I could. In a heartbeat."
Teyla reached out to his shoulder. Her grip felt as light and fragile as a November leaf, but Rodney let her tug him forward until their foreheads touched.
"They will find a way to help us," she said, certainty shining in her eyes. "You will make certain of that."
[{O}]
A/N: Another chapter deserving of many reviews. Not that I'm asking or anything. I think my cow is calling for me.