Rodney groaned and buried his head in his hands. This could not be happening. But of course it could - McKay does it again. If you're going to screw up, why not screw up royally. What's the point in having unrequited feelings for the Commanding Officer of Atlantis when you can have them for its Chief Medical Officer too?
He sighed. Thinking about Carson was not helping. Seeing the pair sitting on the other side of the canteen unaware of his presence wasn't helping either.
Why had he not realised sooner? All those months in Antarctica with Carson, forcing the man to take part in his experiments. Why had he never stopped to asked himself why it was always Carson he chose, when others were far more willing to activate the devices, using their gene? Why he had invented excuses to get the man to come to his lab in the evenings, when he knew he was free and the two would have time to talk. Why he always wanted to double check his results with the doctor? Just in case.
And then John appeared, waltzing in with his cocky grin and his genetic talents and both Carson and McKay had been swept away. And it had never occurred to Rodney to wonder if some of the regret he felt about seeing Carson with John was that he missed his best friend. He put it all down to the newcomer, it was easier to deal with that way. Easier to rationalise why nothing had happened. John had appeared. Rodney and Carson had both liked him. Carson had got him and Rodney hadn't. Simple. Better to think like that than of those moments in Antarctica when his hand had gripped Carson's, dragging him to his latest experiment. Or the meals they had shared, conversations about the value of the genetic technology the two were developing. Better not think of the common ground they had shared. Not to think of the way that Rodney felt he had been understood.
How had he missed it? How had he not realised how he felt for them? Now there was no point. Now he did and Carson was gone from him, together with the other focus of Rodney's stupid heart.
Ridiculous. He shook his head slowly while it remained bowed in his hands. He just about controlled his feelings for John on their missions, covering it with techno-babble, but he couldn't do the same with Carson. Every time he returned from missions he had to face the doctor. It was as these examinations had descended into stuttering exchanges on Rodney's part, which he tried to pass off as objections to the infirmary's array of needles, that he had recognised what it meant. And the thought twisted inside him. Without other's interference he was managing to distance himself from the ones he cared about the most. Because he couldn't be around them while he felt this way. The looks of happiness on their faces were too much for that. He would not endanger that happiness for anything, and he knew that it would only be so long before he betrayed himself. Carson knew him, he realised now, maybe better than anyone had before, and he could not allow himself to be discovered, ruining not only his own happiness, but theirs too. He would stay away. Send Zelenka on missions instead. An excuse that he had too much work to do in the labs would be easy to find.
He glanced from between the fingers still covering his face. All around him, the base got on with its business. And across the room, the subjects of his thoughts carried on, oblivious. He sighed. Not that self-pity would do him any good. Much better to concentrate on his work, and win the chance of a conversation with the others by providing something they may want. And the looks on their faces when he produced it would…
No, he shook his head. He needed to stop this. He couldn't carry on this way. He was fine on his own, he always had been, he still would be. Standing without lifting his head completely, he turned and left the room. He didn't see the look Carson and John shared as he passed their table. Didn't see the concern on their faces, didn't know that they cared.