Dr. Beckett watched Teyla's sleeping form. Once she woke, he would release her. Light duty, blah blah blah, they all heard it from him before. At times he sounded and felt very much like a broken record. Or a scratched CD. But they just stopped when something was wrong, and he didn't have that option. No, a broken record would have to pass as a analogy. It bothered him that so many of the young soldiers he had to treat were too young to know what vinyl was.

John Sheppard knew. He often bragged about his collection back home, some albums sounding interesting, and some sounding downright dull. They both had a taste for the songs of Johnny Cash, but there it pretty much ended. Still, just the thought of John's having such a massive collection, that he was able to pull out any number of albums and study the covers while listening, read the lyrics on the jacket, be able to fully experience the depth of meaning of owning music . . . Carson envied that. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his own record collection.

He made a mental note to question John more specifically about his own collection when he returned with Rodney.

And Rodney, now there was a man who should have amazed him with his taste, but didn't. The fact that he was caught listening to Chopin coursed around the city with it's own peculiar reverb, adding to the mystery that was Dr. Rodney McKay. But to Carson's mind, the music suited his friend's manic moods. He was the piano that dominated the orchestra. He was bold, daring, and imaginative. At the same time, he strove for harmony and was able to work with those around him, which was the one feature that redeemed his often corrosive behavior. He may head up things and be the center of the universe, but he instinctively knew the value of other players, even if he didn't want to admit to it.

Of course he would listen to Chopin.

The machine beside him beeped. Carson took note of the reading, making a few quick marks on his chart. Teyla stirred, then fell back into a peaceful slumber. The soft sounds of a thankfully quiet infirmary soothed him, but he still found he wanted to be away. A day off. Out of the small series of rooms. It was different than working back on earth, because he was at home, and these people were his extended family for the most part. There were still many people he hadn't met, or rather couldn't remember meeting. He had checked them all over, to be sure, but to see a person and remember seeing the person were two different things entirely. And there were days, like this one, when things were so quiet and yet there was a bit of a crisis going on that made him itchy. Like he should be doing something other than checking off a bloody chart. But it was his watch, his duty, he'd hit the research labs that evening. Maybe he should reschedule things a bit, get away from the infirmary for a day or two, let Biro or any one of the other capable doctors take over for a bit. It was only natural to get burned out. Of course that would be when Rodney and John . . .no. He wouldn't think on it.

He walked away, quietly humming Chopin to the best of his ability.

Rodney stood still, the rain washing over him in rivers. The surrounding trees were bending under the weight of the water, and he felt their pain. He wiped his hand over his face and bent forward, bracing his hands on his knees. Before him, Major Sheppard stood motionless, glaring at him, thoroughly soaked, water running down his face. He spat around it. "We're lost."

"I'm sorry." Okay, so what he had thought he'd recognized wasn't in fact anything remotely recognizable. Not like one could tell a rock from a stick in this deluge.

John took two steps forward into Rodney's space. "When you want to mess up, you really go all out, don't you? Can't you do anything right?"

Rodney squinted up at him. "Consistently! Just not today." He couldn't breathe. God, he couldn't breathe, his chest felt like lead.

"Then fix it!"

"Oh, come on, what do you want me to do about this, huh?" Anger erupted from Rodney, fueled by his discomfort and growing pain. "Fire the flare I'm about to conveniently pull from my ass?"

"If it weren't for the fact that the natives would think it a sign of the apocalypse, it would be a good idea! Unlike the ones you've had so far!" Sheppard turned and scanned the area.

"Look, I already apologized, like, a thousand times! What do you want, blood? Because if we keep going like this I just might be able to cough some up for you!"

"Stop your whining, McKay."

"Whining?" Rodney fought verbally to regain Sheppard's attention. "You do recall that I have an ailment, right? Well now you can add the flu to it."

"It's your fault."

Rodney stared. "I don't believe this! I'm sick! Where's the compassion?"

"Compassion?" He spun and faced Rodney. "Where was yours back there, huh?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, one hand sneaking up to cup over his stomach. "Are we going there again? Huh? How many times can I apologize?"

"Not nearly enough," Sheppard scathed, leaving a bewildered Rodney to watch as he staked out a path. "This way, come on. Unless you'd like me to carry you."

"Now that's uncalled for," Rodney muttered, though he was really beginning to hurt again, and all this heated discussion, he refused to call it a fight, wasn't helping any. "I thought I knew a faster way, thought I recognized something. Excuse the hell out of me for trying."

"Thinking on your feet as always. Do me a favor. Don't." Sheppard retraced his steps back to Rodney and stood nose to nose with him. Rodney could see the fury rise once again in Sheppard's eyes, and was lost. "That brain belongs in a lab, not out here. You're not quick enough McKay, not spry enough, and your social skills suck!"

"I left because I was ill!" Rodney forced out. "There's no way it had any affect on the trade agreement, and therefore no way you can possibly blame whatever happened on me!"

"You should've stayed on Atlantis!" Sheppard yelled into his face. "You should never leave Atlantis! Why I chose you for off world missions I've no clue, but obviously it was the stupidest decision I've ever made!"

That was it. Rodney broke. He reached out and shoved Sheppard, hard. "Okay, look, back off! I may have made some crappy decisions, but at least I didn't let loose an entire species destined to suck the life out of the universe!"

Sheppard shoved back, and Rodney felt his boots give in the mud. He slipped, landing flat on his back, feeling the impact all the way through his sore stomach. Bile rose in his throat, his stomach was aflame.

But Sheppard didn't offer a hand up. Concern was a stranger to him. "Look at you," he said coldly, "can't even stand in the mud."

Rodney winced up at him through the rain. "I'm not worthless," he gasped quietly. "I'm the most worthy person in Atlantis."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You came back for me, didn't you?" Rodney pointed at the major, his voice raising. "You could've left me here, but you came back. That means something!" He was desperate for it to mean something. John had been annoyed with him, sure, but never this pissed. Something happened, something his disappearance was responsible for, and the major wasn't talking.

"Weir would have my ass if I didn't come back for you."

"What about all that 'never leave a man behind' stuff you types like to spout?"

Sheppard's voice was like molten lead. "You left a whole team," he said, and continued on.

"I'm – I . . ." Rodney couldn't bring himself to apologize again. He felt fevered, and wasn't sure if it was due to the rain, or his stomach, or the increasing sense of dread he felt. He pulled himself to his feet with a pained grunt, and stumbled behind Sheppard. "You're not going to forgive me for this any time soon, are you?"

"Should I?"

The question took Rodney aback. " – I'd hope so."

Sheppard didn't stop. The rain had soaked his form into one continuos dark color, until he was just a mass moving in front of Rodney. "I could put Radek on the team. But Weir insists I have you."

Rodney blanched. "Major, that sounds remarkably like a threat."

"You know good and well Radek is perfectly capable of going on offworld missions."

"Fumbles McStupid? The man's, I mean he's smart but . . ."

"He's out-thunk you," Sheppard said pointedly over his shoulder.

"Out-thunk? What the hell kind of word is that?" Sheppard said nothing. "You - you wouldn't." He would. There was something decidedly Not Right about the situation, and he was feeling more and more uneasy. "Look, if you want to leave me here, fine! FINE! But don't expect Radek to save your ass, he can't do it!"

"He already has. Several times, and you know it, and you can't stand it. Face it, McKay, you're sunk."

Rodney's chest tightened. There was no way they were having this conversation. No way. Not with John, "What's with you? I thought . . ." he stopped, clamping his lips tight shut.

"Thought what?"

"I thought that, you know," he suddenly didn't want to say it, because maybe he was wrong, oh so wrong, but he forced himself, "that we were – friends. Or something."

Sheppard snorted. "Did you." It was almost an accusation.

"Yes! I mean . . . did I not read that right?" Sheppard turned a cold gaze on him, colder than anything Rodney had ever seen, colder than he thought was possible on that face. And every word that followed stabbed him like a shard of ice.

"You're a geek, McKay," the major said slowly. "You are a bundle of facts. There was a time where I needed you, sure, but there are other geeks that are easier to get along with, and I don't have to go along and clean up after them!"

Rodney stood motionless, watching Sheppard's retreating back. "I saved your ass," he said. "I SAVED YOUR ASS!" But Sheppard kept walking, and as much as he didn't want to, Rodney had to follow.

"You'll put a rut in the floor." Johnson didn't look up. He didn't have to. He'd been watching Weir's shadow cross over his console countless times, and felt the constant heat and coolness of her close, but passing, presence.

"He should've contacted us by now."

Johnson leaned over and tapped the console to his right. A small display flickered to life. "Reading heavy rain over the settlement. Maybe he's waiting."

"He can still use his radio."

Johnson just nodded. His attention was caught by a flicker, and he laughed. "Speak of the devil. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were a conjurer."

"Put him through!" She took a few steps away, and talked to the air. "Major? What's going on?"

"Lots of rain. Not much else to report."

"Have you located Dr. McKay?"

There was a hesitation. "No not yet. Rain delay, can't see my hand in front of my face out here."

"Should I send through a team?"

"Negative. Once this weather lets up I'll try once more and get back to you. I wasn't able to venture far from the village the first time out."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll find him, Elizabeth. And if I don't, you know I'll send for the calvary."

"Be careful."

She could hear the smile. "As always. Sheppard out."

Weir crossed her arms and saw Ford, who had just entered the disembarkation area. He didn't look pleased.