Oh you so know you're the best!

Notes: Alrighty, we're almost done here, a chapter or two left I believe! Thank you so very much for reading and being so wonderfully encouraging! Yay you!

Attempt

Rodney slowly surfaced, groggy and disoriented. One eyelid peeled back and allowed a blurry world to appear.

"Infirmary." He mumbled, attempting to gain purchase on the sedative's pull.

"Good guess."

Carson's cheerful voice towed him all the way to wakefulness. He blinked blearily and his memory provided unwanted images of a struggle, a needle and shouting, his enraged shouting. Rodney turned his head from one side to the other, noting the emptiness of his surrounding, save for Carson who stood by the bed an unsure smile and a hovering hand at the ready.

"Wher' the others?"

"Supposed to be in their rooms, as I've told them to take it easy but I hear the Colonel's doing his rounds." Carson was encouraged by Rodney's apparent calmness.

"Huh. Can I go too?"

"Soon, we'll just have a little chat before you do."

"Carson…" Annoyed, impatient, pleading. Rodney had no wish to stay and chat with his doctor but he would most likely be kept here until he did. He had to admit that he'd rather it be Carson than Kate.

"Didn't I tell you to take it easy? What did you think you were doing, sneaking out of the infirmary and going to the other side of the city?"

The man shrugged, unwilling to say what his motives had been. You couldn't tell people, no matter how close you were to them, or how understanding they could be that you had left to cry like a little girl.

"I know it's been a difficult time, but I don't ever want to have to sedate you that way again, Rodney. You'll be on light duty until I'm satisfied you've rested enough, and I mean light. No trips to the lab, no spending hours on your laptop in your room. You need to rest."

"But Carson! I can't stop working just like that!"

"You can and you will. I've advised Elizabeth and Doctor Zelenka knows to call me if you show up at the lab. You won't do it on your own, I've no other choice."

Panic slowly crept up on him. It came in a tightening of stomach muscles, in a shortness of breath, in a whiz of alarming thoughts. What was he to do without his work? What would he concentrate on, what would prevent him from facing a situation he so badly wanted to avoid? The mortifying rising of a lump in his throat catapulted him into anger once again.

"Carson, damn it, you can't do that!" The glint and narrowing of his eyes, the noticeable tensing of his body, the thin set of his mouth, those signs were like klaxons blaring out a warning.

Fully prepared for this switch, Carson handled Rodney with a practiced, forceful yet gentle hand. It would work this time, he had a head start, would not allow Rodney to get himself into a full-blown rant and infuriate himself further.

"Rodney, just give it a try will you? Light duties' not the end of the world, if there's something that absolutely requires your attention you can jump in. I'll recommend it for three days and we'll see then."

"Everything absolutely requires my attention here! Haven't you met the bunch of morons I work with?"

"I have and they're quite capable of handling themselves. Zelenka's done a fine job of it in your absence and there's no reason why he can't go on. There's no crisis, he can handle it."

"They're likely to create a crisis!"

"They're not." Carson breathed in deeply, attempting to keep his impatience in check. "Rodney, it's just for a few days. It'll do you good to putter around, less pressure." He was slightly startled when Rodney's body slackened all at once, the defiant tilt of his chin lowering into repentance.

"I can't, Carson. I have to do something…"

"There's naught to be done, everything's under control."

"It's not! I'm not under control! I have to stay busy! Don't do this, I'll rest today! I'll be in my room resting all day. I'll even stay here and rest but don't put me on light duty for days! I don't want to putter around! I can't!" Desperation rippled through his voice making it waver.

Carson placed a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder and bent forward slightly so he could look straight into his eyes. "You'll be fine. You can stay here if you want, I'll be around…" There was nothing the doctor in Carson could do; he had examined, healed and medicated all he could, now the friend needed to take charge. He hoped Rodney would agree to stay, he truly needed the rest and he would be sure to get it in the infirmary. Having him near would allow Carson to check up on him often, something that would undoubtedly be beneficial to both.

"I…no…not that this isn't a charming little place, but I much prefer my beds far away from sick people. There's no telling what I could catch staying around here too long!"

Straightening up, Carson squeezed slightly before releasing Rodney's shoulder. "I'll ask you not to be condescending toward my infirmary, it's perfectly safe!"

"Yeah, sure, just like you're not the biggest mommy's boy this side of the galaxy."

"Oy, keep me Mum out of this!" He smiled and Rodney did the same, easing into their usual ridiculous barbs. This was familiar. A step brought him far enough to allow space for Rodney to manoeuvre himself off the bed.

"Clothes?" A raised eyebrow and an extended hand affirmed Rodney McKay, insufferable pain, had returned.

"You're resting today, you can very well do that in scrubs. Plus, that's such a nice colour on you!"

"Clothes!" Snapping fingers were always a good sign of mental stability, for Rodney at least.

Though Carson was still immensely concerned, he was comfortable with letting Rodney believe they would not discuss his actions further. If the scientist wanted to return to their normal communications, he would not argue, not today. Sighing deeply, theatrically hassled, Carson went to recuperate a dirty, thorn, bloody, smoke – and other more unpleasant things – smelling uniform. He handed it over with a twitch of his nose to make his disgust obvious. "Can't see why you would want to put these on again."

"Well you wouldn't, would you, seeing how you spend most of your days in pyjamas!"

"Don't be ridiculous man, you wear a lab coat just as often as I!"

"Do not!"

"Sure you do! Don't think you've got me fooled, I know you like them and I know why."

"Please, do tell, oh fashionably challenged one."

"Deep pockets hold more sweets." Carson allowed himself a cheeky grin, for he knew it to be the truth and, judging by the sputtering, he'd hit a bull's-eye.

"Keep my candy out of this! You of all people should know I need it to keep my blood sugar levelled!"

"Aye, that's why you carry half your Cadbury stash around. Nothing to do with that sweet, milky, melt in your mouth goodness that, let me tell you, is doing quite a number on your arteries and heart, putting your system in a bit of a bind. Hence, rest." It was truly amusing to see Rodney's eyes glaze over and teeth sink into his bottom lip, longing taking hold of him at the mere thought of chocolate. Like an addict…and what a bad trail of thought that was, bringing back images of another out of control Rodney. It seemed too much had happened in such a short time and Carson desperately wanted to get through to his friend; he needed rest, or stress would do much worst than enrage him beyond control.

"Fine…fine, rest. One whole day of rest then I'll get back to work."

"I didn't agree to that. Three days, limited lab and laptop exposure, then we'll see."

"Carson!"

"Three days, Rodney. You need and deserve them."

"This is punishment isn't it? You're making me suffer for being incredibly superior in all aspects?"

"If you want to delude yourself, you're more than welcome to, but three days of rest it is." Carson took a moment to bring their conversation to serious levels. "This isn't a bad thing, Rodney. I'm not working against you."

"Way to patronise, Carson. Now, I'm getting out of here and leaving your horrific taste behind." Rodney stumped to the washroom, as much as one could stomp on slippered feet, to change out of the hated garments.

Carson watched him go, amused despite the harsh circumstances. He moved to his desk and turned on his equipment, intent on preparing himself for what could hopefully be a peaceful day of research. A minute later, he heard steps drawing closer.

"I'll go now…"

"Have a…restful afternoon Rodney."

"Oh, ha ha! Your comedic skills are astounding!"

"That's very kind of you! Let me know if there's anything. I'll be here…"

"Yeah…ok…" Rodney shuffled from one foot to the other. "Carson?"

Keeping his back to Rodney, arranging his papers, Carson made a distractedly acknowledging sound. He heard the hesitation in the voice that had spoken his name, heard the shuffling feet and knew that whatever Rodney was to say, he'd say it more comfortably if he was apparently semi-ignored.

"I…thanks…"

The squeaking sounds of sneakers soles hitting the ground grew fainter as Rodney hurried out of the infirmary.

"You'll be fine Rodney…" Carson could only hope Rodney knew he had resources, people ready to listen, to help, when the going got tough.

Rodney quickly made his way to his room, desperate to get out of his reeking clothes but was accosted by a grinning Colonel who was very happy to get in his way.

As Rodney took one step to the right, the Colonel took one to the left, keeping him firmly in Rodney's path. They did the dance for a few seconds, John waiting for Rodney to crack.

"Damn it, Sheppard!" Rodney's hands landed squarely on Sheppard's shoulder and he was roughly shoved out of the way, colliding with the wall with a startled humph.

"Watch it!" Pushing himself off the wall, John regained his stance and rose to his full height, attempting the intimidating pose.

"You're naked!" Trust Rodney to concentrate on the important things.

Tightening his toga, Sheppard had to rethink his 'intimidate McKay until he yields' plan. "I'm togaed!"

"Why the hell haven't you dressed?"

"I can't, there's this force field thing!"

"Yes well, if the blanket stays on, somewhat, why wouldn't clothes?" The "idiot" was left unsaid but clearly implied by the tone.

Dumbfounded, Sheppard felt a full body blush spread over him. "I..." He hadn't thought about that, hadn't even attempted to dress. He blamed the man whose company he was blessed with and…he wouldn't allow himself to be sidetracked. "That's not the point! What was that freak out in the infirmary, McKay? What's wrong with you!"

"Oh please, don't even try! Leave me alone." Rodney walked around the blanketed man and continued on to his room.

"McKay! Hey! McKay! I'm talking to you!" He watched as his best friend continued walking away with long strides that quickly took him to the nearest transporter.

"Wait up! McKay!" He ran to catch up but was too late. The doors slid shut as he reached for the panel and promptly reopened to empty space. "Damn Rodney, why do you always make everything so difficult!" He just wanted to have a talk with him, get all the animosity out in the open, deal with it and get his whole team back. Choosing the transporter nearest to the quarter's area, he hoped Rodney would at least listen, just this once.

Of course he didn't. No, Rodney McKay could never make life easy for one increasingly irate John Sheppard.

"Rodney, damn you stubborn son of a bitch, open the door!"

"Go away!" The voice was slightly muffled by Atlantis' walls, but the edge it carried pierced through the metal to reach John's ears.

"I'm not going anywhere until you've opened this door and we've talked this through!"

"What are you, a woman?" There was a pause as both men's mind delivered a Technicolor representation of a certain Celebrant. "We have nothing to talk about. GO away!"

John took in a deep, grounding breath and brought out the big guns, figuratively of course, though he was tempted to take a stunner to the man's head. Let's see how far he'd run, paralysed! "I know what you said, Rodney! I know you don't like me! We have that to talk about! Can't have my team members' panties in a twist!" He winced; speaking the words was more painful than hearing them. His effort paid off, the door opened in a swish which a booming voice drowned out.

"You want to talk about that, do you? Fine! Let's talk! You're an asshole, Sheppard, and the worst kind too, the kind that's actually likeable enough to make people forget what incredible amount of crap he forces them to put up with!" Rodney poked a hard finger on his chest. "I'm not going to forget this time! I've had enough of you and your stupid stunts and your smartass comments! I can't deal with it anymore! I want off the team and I want you to go away and leave me the fuck alone!"

The door swished closed before John could react. Granted, he could've attempted to open it himself or at the very least contacted Zelenka, but he wanted to be allowed in.

"McKay! McKay! Open the door, we're not done here! You are NOT off the team! No way in hell!"

Silence. Rodney sat on his bed, waiting.

"McKay!"

Silence. Waiting for Sheppard to give up.

"McKay!"

Running a hand through his hair, John took a calming breath; he abused those whenever an insanely annoying genius was in the vicinity. He wasn't going to dramatize, it was fine, Rodney said things he didn't mean all the time, he was childish like that. He untangled his fingers from his untidy locks and brought them to the door. A soft knock and cajoling words could perhaps get through to Rodney, tell him that John wasn't angry anymore, he was giving up, he simply wanted to come in and have a friendly chat. "Come on, open the door. You're a fair man, you've said your piece, let me say mine" He waited patiently, rapping his knuckles against the metal producing a small grating sound. "Open the door. You're pissed, I get it. It's fine, be pissed…just give me a minute, okay?"

Rodney didn't. He sat on his bed until the sound stopped, until the voice no longer spoke. He was left to reflect on the last words it had let out before a fist hit the metallic barrier that protected him from the rest of Atlantis.

"Rodney…this isn't over."