McKay sat down at his computer desk. He had been so proud of this computer, he remembered. In a time where computers were virtually unheard of outside a business environment, he had managed to beg and cajole his father into buying him an Apple II. It had cost him a promise to work hard towards becoming a medical doctor, but he had decided he could deal with that later, and in the meantime it had enabled him to work on his own science experiments, teaching himself out of books and using the computer to do the heavy math involved. Of course his tablet back on Atlantis had over 20,000 times the memory and 3000 times the processing speed in a far smaller package than the Apple II, but he vaguely remembered how to use Visicalc, and if he could figure out alien technology he wasn't going to admit defeat on a 1970s spreadsheet program.

A few minutes later he was deeply absorbed in his work. He was pleasantly surprised to realise that his project as he had left it all those years ago was very nearly complete. He just needed to double check the research, but he could see at a glance that the twelve year old kid who put this together had real potential as a scientist. "In fact, he's a genius," he murmured to himself complacently. He was so deeply engrossed in reading through his old notes that he hardly registered when Jeannie went away, and only noticed the phone ringing as he stood up to cross the room for a reference book.

He was well aware of what was going on around him a few minutes later, when his mother burst into the room, the draft caused by the violent opening of the door sending his papers flying.

He jumped up to grab the sheet that was just drifting dangerously close to the window, then turned to his mother. "Yes, what is it?" he snapped brusquely, then remembered where – and who – he was. "I mean…" his voice trailed away as he stared at his mother.

It had been many years since he had seen her. He had deliberately avoided returning home once he had reached college and could finally consider himself independent. Before then, visits home had been sparse to say the least. Not that either of his parents had ever commented on it or seemed to notice, let alone care.

Now his mother stood before him, looking older than he had expected. He had always thought of her as young and beautiful, but she just looked tired and angry. "Did you talk to Mrs Adams today?" she demanded.

"What? No, I…"

"She's just been on the phone to me. She says she's concerned that you're unhappy at school and that you're being bullied."

Now McKay remembered Mrs Adams. Kind, but ineffectual as a teacher. She tried to win the children's loyalty through friendship, instead of discipline, and the children tended to take advantage of her.

"Oh, that Mrs Adams," he said. He'd never realised she had ever noticed his problems at school.

"Don't play games with me. Is it true?"

"Well, yes, it is," admitted McKay, taken aback.

"How dare you talk to her?" his mother cried. "For a smart kid, you can be pretty damn stupid at times! If your father finds out that not only have you not been standing up for yourself but you've been running to a teacher for help, we'll never hear the last of it."

She ran out of steam and stared down at his desk instead. "What's all that?"

"My science project."

"Oh, you're finally doing something you've been told for once. Good for you."

Rodney winced at the sarcasm in her voice. "What time's dinner?"

"Dinner? When your father wants it," she answered sharply. "Please don't cause a row tonight, Rodney, you know it gives me a headache."

"Yes Mom, I mean no Mom," McKay answered dutifully. He well remembered the scenes between himself and his father over the meal tables. It seemed he could never do anything right as far as his father was concerned.

He picked up a piece of paper from the desk, studied it for a moment, then picked up a pencil and began scribbling furiously on it, becoming absorbed again in his work. A few moments later he'd forgotten his mother had even entered the room to talk to him.

When McKay next looked up from his papers it was dark outside. He realised how hungry he was and stood up to stretch, then headed downstairs in search of food.

He found the dining room empty, although the smell of a meal still lingered. Sniffing the air, he made a guess at his favourite meal, lasagne. He wandered into the kitchen in search of leftovers.

"There's none left, it's all gone," said his mother curtly when she found him in there a few minutes later.

"And you didn't call me?"

"You've been told over and over again that if you don't come first time you're called you go hungry."

McKay just stood looking at her for a moment, then grabbed a slice of bread from the cupboard and stuffed it into his mouth before heading upstairs again. He had to get the project finished tonight. His stomach would have to wait for a change. Besides, it felt rather sore. Investigations revealed purple bruising. He thought hard, and remembered Lucas and the beating. "You'd better stay out of my way, you little punk," he thought to himself.

As he went along the landing he looked into Jeannie's room. "Why didn't you get me for dinner?" he demanded of her.

"Oh, come on, Rodney, I did try, but you were even deeper into your work than usual. And Dad said I wasn't to call you, anyway. But here, I managed to save you some." She produced a small plate of cold lasagne and a fork from behind her bed.

"Thanks," said McKay, eating it hungrily. "I've got a lot of work to do still, and this will help keep me going."

"What are you working on that's so exciting?" Jeannie asked curiously.

"My science project. It's what's going to get me out of here."

"Oh come off it, Rodney, stop making the grand plans."

"No, I mean it. I'm going to win the science project, they're going to see how good I am at physics and I'm going to get a scholarship. I'll live at school and never come back here again. I'm going away, just like you." McKay realised he was babbling, but couldn't stop himself. His brain was buzzing with memories from the past, calculations from the project and the excitement of what he was going to achieve for his younger self.

Jeannie just shook her head. "Don't get too excited until it actually happens," she warned.

McKay ignored her and headed back to his room. Just another couple of hours and he'd be done.

When John and Lieutenant Ford joined him and Teyla in the commissary, Rodney was buzzing with excitement. "Teyla's a really good teacher. I'm so going to whup Lucas's ass when I next see him!" he declared.

Teyla smiled. "You'll do fine, Rodney," she promised him.

"Now then," John sat down beside him. "I've found somewhere for you to sleep, it's just down the corridor from my room and it's not far from the infirmary where we were earlier."

Teyla looked up. "He's not sleeping in his own room?" he asked.

Ford answered her. "With all the stuff he has on the wall? We thought it was best that young Rodney here doesn't get too precise a picture of his future."

"Oh, of course." Teyla nodded.

Rodney waved his fork in the air. "Hey, it's a dream, remember? Dreams never get too specific. But hey, it's cool that I get to learn self-defence in my dreams. I just hope I remember it when I wake up," he added, staring down at the lasagne in front of him before shrugging and spearing a large mouthful.