Disclaimer: Not mine.
Title: Eternity
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: R
Summary: The coffin was some of the best workmanship any had seen since their arrival.
Warnings: Main character deaths.
Notes: This jumped in my head and wouldn't leave. I evicted it.

They buried him on the mainland. It was a bitterly cold day, appropriate, and the coffin was some of the best workmanship any had seen since their arrival.

Elizabeth spoke briefly, her words clipped from the pain. She'd not wanted to do this. She hadn't wanted them to turn off the machines that were keeping him alive but with no brain activity, it was a lost cause.

Carson ruled it an accident; something so anti-climatic that Rodney still refused to believe it. After all, they were the heroes – you don't die in a lab accident. Heroes died in the field, protecting the home front. But Rodney had been there, witnessed and been involved. He'd taken a few blows to the head himself and Carson knew a little bit of Rodney's genius was gone.

It wasn't a lie though. John Sheppard, Lieutenant Colonel of the USAF, was dead. His brain functions ceased, his breathing stilled, and his heart stopped. His body had grown cold before they'd even gotten him into the coffin and for the sake of Rodney's sanity, Carson had let Rodney kiss his lover goodbye. They all hoped in time Rodney would accept that John was gone.

Radek had made the grave marker. A thick rectangle, cut out of metal the Daedalus had brought, and engraved simply with his name, John Peter Sheppard, and his date of birth beneath it. They purposely left off the death date.

The Athosians had volunteered to dig the grave and Wex almost solely filled it back up after they had settled the coffin into the earth; Holling tried to pull him away to get others to help but in the end, the man just moved away from his son.

Some lingered afterwards, not quite believing it. Rodney was the hardest one to watch for them all. His eyes had closed after the marker was put in place and he was fighting Carson; he didn't want to leave. This is where John was, and it was where he had to be until John woke up. They had to sedate him to get him back on the jumper.

When his eyes opened the next morning, the small tinge of hope they'd held was gone. Carson noticed it first and he said nothing, because he knew. He knew that even if Rodney had suddenly come back to himself, there was little any of them could do to ease the pain. Kate could talk to him but Rodney was a master of evading questions. He'd been doing it for twenty years with Carson.

So they all learned to live with his monosyllabic responses, his tight features and his refuse to get close to anyone – even the ones who'd been friends with him before. For the most part, they left him to himself. Elizabeth never spoke of it and Carson would force him to eat something at least once a day. Zelenka tried to carry on conversations here and there, but those were few and far between.

Until one day, on what would have been their fourth anniversary, Rodney smiled at Radek. He spoke at great length and was visibly happy at their morning briefing. When Carson brought him lunch in the lab, he ate it all.

So wrapped up in seeing Rodney's depression disappear, not even Carson noticed the ring he'd slipped on. A band of steel, much like the one John had been buried with, that had only a simple adornment of an eternity symbol. And it was hours before anyone noticed that Rodney had signed out a 9 mil from the armory.

They buried him on the mainland. It was a bitterly cold day, appropriate...