An Island Never Cries
Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding Stargate Atlantis (except maybe the DVD set one of these days). The only thing related to Simon and Garfunkel I own is my parents' old LP.
Summary: Tag for Critical Mass. McKay seeks out the one person he thinks can understand his frustration and isolation.
A rock feels no pain, and an island never cries. Dr. Rodney McKay roamed the more deserted halls of Atlantis, remembering how his mom used to sing along with the radio whenever they played Simon and Garfunkel. For years he had thought that the refrain was a good philosophy. Harden your edges, become like stone. Keep yourself apart, don't let anyone get close. If they can't get close, they can't hurt you. He wasn't quite sure if it'd been a conscious decision, or if somehow he'd missed the day in school when they taught social graces. For years, his report card included some variation of the statement, 'Rodney McKay is quite brilliant, but needs to learn to get along with others.' Hell, his file probably still contained that label, 'Does not play well with others,' although they found other words to use, like prickly or eccentric. Why else would they send him to Russia, then Antarctica? The Stargate program needed him, or more precisely his genius, but weren't sure how to deal with the rest of the package.
Sometimes, though, he wished there was someone he could talk to about his fears and doubts. They'd been growing lately. He wasn't sure if his best was good enough, no matter what anyone said. He could see the questions in certain people's eyes. He knew there was Kate Heightmeyer, but she just wasn't his equal, no matter how many diplomas she claimed she had. Wasn't psychiatry just another form of voodooism? Well, there was someone he could talk to today, though he'd never admit it. He took off toward the section of Atlantis that had been designated temporary housing for those aboard the Daedalus.
"Come in," said the voice. Rodney still hesitated for a moment.
Dr. Kavanaugh sat on the edge of the bed in the stark room, looking like a schoolboy who has just faced the scariest principal.
"I heard what happened."
"Yeah." Silence enshrouded both men, like a heavy blanket, for a few moments.
"I think I understand why you came back."
"Part of me thought it would be different. Maybe people would change. Besides there are only so many places for someone with my intellect. I can't be surrounded by idiots, who don't respect my work. Unfortunately that's still the case here."
McKay shuddered momentarily as Kavanaugh finished his little diatribe. There was no comprehension, no repentance. He couldn't see what had put him in this situation, but what made him, Rodney McKay, so different from the man sitting opposite him? It could have been him, the prime suspect. Somehow Kavanaugh was a mirror image of what he was like ten years ago, or might be ten years in the future. Alone. Hated. All very unsettling. A small part of him did not want to be this man. He got to his feet. "Nice talking to you," he managed to stammer out. "We geniuses have to keep in touch."
He almost ran back to the main part of the city, trying to escape the uncomfortable reflection he'd just encountered, and almost ran into Dr. Weir, heading the opposite direction, towards her office. She looked tired, more haggard than he'd seen her before. "Sorry," he mumbled automatically, then headed back towards her. There was something all too familiar in her eyes. Self-doubt. The last few weeks could not have been easy on her either. "Elizabeth, are you okay? Do you want to get some coffee?"
She paused, then half-smiled. "I'd like that."
He smiled in return, recognizing, at least for now, a fellow survivor, another island. He remembered what he'd heard in the one and only geology class he'd taken. Sometimes the smallest flower can crack the hardest rock. And sometimes, with enough undersea force, islands crash into one another.
FIN