Title: Candles in the dark
Author: Tazmy
Description: The Pegasus galaxy is a scary place, so why does Rodney choose to stick around?
Spoilers: Not too many. Up through Seige III I suppose, but this takes place in season three.
Betas: KodiakBear, Friendshipper, Angw, hikarikodachi
Notes: This is not the story I meant to tell, but it's the one I ended up with. I made some changes after my betas looked at it, so if there are grammar mistakes remaining, that is why. The quote from To Kill A Mockingbird may not be exact, but we can just blame that on Rodney. ;)
He had a dream last night,
the same he had before.
The shadows lost in dark;
the aged black wicks were numb.
Rodney dreamed about the place again last night. It was dark and cold…empty.
Nestling under the blankets—or rather layered sheets, he listened to the gentle hums and beeps of the infirmary. Breathing deeply, he embraced the incense of antiseptic, allowing it to chase away the nightmares. The drip of an IV lulled his eyes closed. He didn't have the energy to bring consciousness forward, so instead he allowed himself to drift.
It was hard to see in the dark, but he lingered long enough for his eyes to adjust. There were four tables across the room facing a row of six or seven lines of chairs. Each table carried the burden of fifty candles. Too many. The wicks were black, the only source of light coming from a single candle within Rodney's hands. He reached over, grabbing the candle on the third table, back row, fifth one from the left. He held it, the weight more burdensome than any he had carried before. Tipping one wick into another, he watched as the light became two. He reached for another and did the same.
A ferocious wind howled around him. "No!" he cried, cupping one of the candles into his hands. His efforts were wasted as the solitary flame succumbed to the storm's power, a single whiff of smoke caressing his palm. Shrouded in darkness, Rodney fell to his knees and wept.
"Rodney?"
The infirmary came back into view along with the caring smile of one Carson Beckett. "Carson."
"You okay? Your heart was beating a mite fast a few moments ago."
"I feel as though I just got ran over and subsequently squashed by a Puddlejumper." It was hard to think, as if someone had stuffed cotton balls in his head. He watched as a single machine dropped liquid from four different bags into his arm. He remembered feeling comfort from the sound before, but as unconsciousness continued to slip further away, it was starting to worry him.
Carson finished messing with the tubes, pulling up a chair and flashing that same abhorrent light in Rodney's eyes that always made him groan. Weren't infirmaries supposed to be comfortable places and not torture chambers? "Do you mind? How will I go back to my important work if you blind me? What am I doing here anyway?"
"What do you last remember?"
Burnt out candles, he wanted to say, but that had just been a dream. "I'm not sure."
"Aye, well, I can't say I'm surprised. Your head took quite the blow in the accident."
"What accident? Don't tell me we blew up the lab again, because we finally got it back to the way we wanted it from the last time."
"No, Rodney. No one blew up your precious lab."
There was a faint hum as Rodney felt himself, and his bed, lifted into a seated position. Taking in his surroundings, he saw that the privacy curtains had been closed around him and that Carson and he were the only ones left in the enclosure. "Where is everyone? Or am I suddenly not important enough to visit?" A cup was lifted to his dry lips, the water a welcome change from the dryness plaguing his mouth.
"By everyone, I assume you mean Colonel Sheppard and the rest of your team? They are on a rescue mission at the moment. They didn't want to leave you, but you know how it goes around here."
Rodney enjoyed some more of the water before nodding. Yes, he knew all too well how things went, and some days he wished nothing more than that he didn't. "So if the lab didn't explode, what did happen?"
"Do you remember going to P4X-7956?"
"I have a faint memory of caves, but other than that… I take it things didn't go so well?"
"Aye. You can say that. You took a team of scientists to examine some Ancient technology. Unfortunately, the Wraith showed up and you were trapped along with four other scientists."
"Oh yes, um…Zelenka, Miko, Hackett, and…um…that new girl. Lorraine…Lorar…Lorax?"
"Dr. Lorrah. Do you remember anything else?"
"Hackett was taken by the Wraith. We could hear his screams but there was nothing we…" Rodney stopped, squeezing his eyes closed. He remembered the faces of everyone that had died from his science team, as well as a few soldiers, but the ones that died right in front of him…well, they held a special place. He could see Hackett's wide, hazel gaze as the Wraith took everything from him. And Lorrah…she had been trembling as they hid not too far away. Zelenka had been comforting her while Rodney was trying to find a way out. The screams were so loud. Even now, above the beeping machines, Rodney wasn't sure if he was still hearing them.
"How's your head, Rodney? Are you experiencing any pain?"
"No, I'm just wincing in comfort. What do you think?" Waves of nausea seemed to travel straight from his brain to his stomach and back up. He nodded slightly, his bandaged head falling back against the pillows. Beckett hadn't answered the rhetorical question, leaving uncomfortable silence in the wake of Rodney's complaints. Thus, it was time for the scientist to speak again, asking the one question he always hated, but he did have to ask. "Hackett didn't make it back, did he?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Sheppard and the others…they went to rescue the team of Marines that helped us escape?"
"That's right. Go to sleep now, Rodney. We can talk more when you're feeling better."
Beckett pressed some buttons on the IV machine and the effect was instantaneous. McKay couldn't keep his eyes open even if he wanted to.
He came into the room already knowing what he'd find. Darkness. The candles long since blown out by an unstoppable tide. He didn't want to go back in there, afraid of facing the emptiness. An invisible force pushed him forward, though, and he was back again beside the forward line of chairs, facing the spent candles.
He brushed back a cobweb on one of the chairs, paying little mind to the spider that scurried away from the destroyed dwelling. He wondered how it had happened. How the candles had come to lose their life. He didn't remember leaving. He didn't remember losing them all. But clearly it must have happened or the flames would still be dancing.
He had no lighter and no match. None of the tools necessary to bring the fires once more to life. So the wicks were to stay black with charcoal and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He was too late. He had failed in the only mission that truly mattered.
When he once more found his way to consciousness, he saw that the privacy curtain had been moved back, and the infirmary lights had been dimmed. A young woman, with the worst case of bed hair known to man, slept a few feet away from him. She was hooked up to a single IV line. Dr. Lorrah. At least she had made it back; Rodney had worried about that. He was used to his scientists panicking when it least suited them, especially the new ones. They had signed on to see a new galaxy and although they did get to see some technological wonders, they also saw war. War as Rodney had known it for the last three years.
"Welcome back, Dr. McKay." Cindy was easily the best nurse on Carson's team, if only for the fact that she let Rodney choose his jell-o without so much as one complaint. She stood over him, her blond ponytails brushed back behind her ears.
"Have they returned yet?"
Cindy gave a reassuring smile—which was most assuredly fake—while whispering, "No, but I'm sure they can take care of themselves. You just concentrate on getting better."
He must have been sick for the nurses—even Cindy—to treat him with such patience. Usually they were on the defensive well before he opened his mouth. Today…well, today he didn't feel much like talking. The cotton ball head syndrome sure wasn't helping in that respect.
"Yes, well, I'm sure all the voodoo will put me back together from whatever happened." He circled his hand in the air as he spoke.
"A cave-in."
"Excuse me."
"You were caught in a cave-in. You sheltered Doctors Lorrah and Zelenka, taking much of the blow on yourself."
"Oh. Why would I do that?" He could see images, but it was still hard to put any of them together. Lorrah had been panicking, but they kept her fairly quiet while the Wraith searched. Then there were the Marines and the gunfire and…rocks…lots of rocks falling. "Where's Zelenka? Is he okay?"
"Yes, he's fine. Your body has been through a lot of strain; you should relax." Cindy picked up a magazine from one of the chairs, taking a seat. She smiled softly, straightening the blankets on Rodney's bed and then reaching over to pick up a wet cloth. "Would you like me to dab this on your forehead?"
The questions seemed so strange at first that Rodney had to pause and figure out what she was talking about. Then he registered the heat of the room and realized it wasn't normal. The general moist feel to his body and the sticky touch of his clothes wasn't good either. He must have a fever. No wonder his thoughts were coming at a tortoise pace.
Cindy waited for him to nod before she continued. The cold feel was a nice change, made all the better by the fact a pretty girl was leaning over him. Too bad girls like that never seemed to notice him.
"You have an infection running through your body, hence the fever. Dr. Beckett is confident that this run of antibiotics will help." She moved the cloth back to its place on a nearby table. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
The brunette, Dr. Lorrah, had yet to move on the adjacent bed, a fact that kept nagging in Rodney's brain. "She is going to be okay, right?"
"Yes. Thanks to you."
"That's good. I really saved her life?"
"Yes, you did. Now get some sleep."
He was just about to complain about people always telling him that, when he felt himself carried away from consciousness once more.
He had a dream last night,
the same he had before.
The shadows lost in dark;
the aged black wicks were numb.
It was Sheppard's voice that forced him back to consciousness the next time. "I'm fine, Doc. Really."
"If one of your Marines told you they were fine while covered in blood and black soot, you would hear nothing of it, Colonel. In fact, you would, as you have in the past, send them to me. So stop being such a wee baby and be a good example for your men."
Pushing his head up to see more, Rodney felt strong hands push him back. "Sheppard's giving Beckett trouble again. Nothing you haven't seen before."
Once again he felt the wet cloth dabbed against his forehead, but it felt different—somehow wrong—when Ronon was the one on the other side. Not that McKay had the energy to argue. Beside him, Lorrah's bed had been vacated and Cindy was preparing it for another patient.
"Good to see you awake again, Doctor. How are you feeling?" She smiled brightly. He didn't even try to smile back. Everything hurt.
Turning back to Ronon, who was now skimming through an NRA magazine, Rodney had to ask, "How'd it go out there?"
"Rescued one. Sheppard took a fall and injured his knee. Rest of us are fine."
"How many didn't come back?"
"Three. Reynolds, Watterson, and Williams."
"Wonderful. I don't suppose we have anything to show for it?"
"One life and whatever you find in the artifact we brought back. How are you feeling?" Ronon had started speaking in larger sentences lately, which Rodney had yet to get used to. The voice was still brusque; it just came in bigger sizes as the runner adjusted to living in society. It made Rodney wonder just what kind of a person Ronon had been before the Wraith had taken him.
"Like crap? How does it look like I feel? How long have I been here, anyway? Feels like an eternity."
"Three days. The mission went bad. We weren't able to get back until now."
"Yes, well, I hope you didn't have too much fun without me."
Rodney leaned back against the pillow, listening as Carson threatened to sedate Sheppard, while Sheppard feigned innocence. It was familiar background music, and Rodney strangely found it comforting.
Cindy approached, placing a fresh cup by his bed. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Dr. Lorrah has been waiting to speak with you."
Ronon excused himself, saying something about escaping the infirmary before the doc chose to hold him hostage as well. Rodney watched him go only to be replaced by a brunette woman with a timid expression. She shuffled forward, glancing around her as though unsure whether she should continue or run away.
"You wanted something, Doctor?" he asked, his brusque voice keeping her from leaving, but not serving to make her life easier. It wasn't his job to make things easy after all. Wishing the room was a hundred degrees cooler and that his arms didn't feel like lead weights, he motioned for her to start speaking.
"Yes. Do you mind?" She motioned to the curtains. The metal rings clanged loudly against Rodney's skull as the curtain came to a close. "I hear you are feeling better?"
"Yes, if you call a fever feeling better. Why do I think that's not why you came, though? Well, let's hear it already. I don't have all day. Actually I do, but that doesn't mean you have to waste it."
Lorrah's teeth met her bottom lip, pulling it back into a scared grimace. Her arms were covered in scratches that hadn't been there the last time he had seen her. For the first time, he noticed that his were as well. Not too mention a few too many bandages.
"I wanted to thank you for what you did back there. You saved my life."
"I did? Hm. I don't really remember it, but I suppose I would do something heroic like that. Is that all?"
"Yes." She turned around, her back trembling.
Her hand was on the curtain when his voice stopped her. "Oh please, we all know you have something you want to say. Out with it already!"
She swung around, coming forward at a quicker pace. "You've been here for three years now. Three years! How can you stand it?"
"What?" She was out of focus, and he was sure it was the fever. Maybe that's why she was saying something so strange: He was imagining it.
"That man…Hackett…those Marines…they…they…"
"They were doing what had to be done."
"They died. I've never…I mean…"
Sighing, he pushed himself up against the sheets despite his aching muscles. He glanced away from her and then back. "And what would you have me say? Look, I know it's not easy to see something like that…to be here. But you're here…they were here…because we're among the few who can get the job done."
"It just seems so…"
"Screwed up?"
"Yeah." She fell into one of the chairs, and Rodney was horrified to see a light stream of water making its way down her cheek. It was easier to just look away.
"I'd tell you it gets easier, but it doesn't. We'll have a memorial service, light a few candles, say some goodbyes and do the same thing next week. I saved your life today; you might save someone else tomorrow. It's just how life is here."
"Then maybe I shouldn't be here." She fiddled with the NRA magazine, as though ready to tear it apart.
"He could feel sleep pulling him back, but he could also feel her terrified eyes on him. Pushing back his nausea and headache, he continued, "Pegasus isn't right for everyone. It's best you figure that out now, so we can send you to a nice quiet life at Area 51 if need be. Just remember, a lot of what happens here is what you make out of it, and smarts will only win you half the battle. If you're half as intelligent as your file claims, you'd have figured that out by now."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Her tone turned dark as she looked at him as though staring far away. Emerging from her seat, she brushed away a few of the tears, then preceded toward the curtain. "I think I'll be resigning, just so you know." She rubbed the place on her arms covered in scratches, her movements slow.
Rodney watched all of this with a schooled expression. He couldn't afford to lose many more scientists and she had been proving to be one of the better ones, but he meant what he said. Pegasus wasn't right for everyone. Still, watching her go somehow felt wrong, and it wasn't just the dizziness from his headache. "Hold on." He should be sleeping and enjoying the care of blonde nurses, not working himself up to help one of his scientists, but he couldn't help himself. Why? Well, maybe Kate understood it better than him. He used to be just as afraid, maybe he still is and is just better at hiding it.
"Yes?" She didn't bother to turn around.
"Can you get Cindy here, and um, wait for a moment."
She nodded, coming back with the cute blonde nurse that was forever and always going to be out of his league. Alas, geekdom wasn't all fun and games. "You wanted something, Doctor?"
It took some convincing with Carson, but he had his hands full enough with Sheppard that it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but some moments later, Rodney was in a wheelchair with Cindy pushing from behind and Lorrah walking by his side. He feigned wellness, ignoring his burning arms and turning stomach, knowing full well that if he mentioned it, Cindy would take him back.
"Where is it that you wanted to go again?"
"The chapel. We created it sometime in the first year, after the first few people died."
He entered the room, but it was different than in his dreams. Rows of chairs faced tables filled with candles, yes, but every wick was lit. Cindy parked his wheelchair in the center of the first row, and none of the three dared to speak. Gaul, Peterson…a slew of names passed through his mind as he said a prayer to an unidentified deity, or maybe just to the silent mind, for each of them. He added one for Ford and his safe return.
Lorrah took a seat nearby, bowing her head. At last she turned to him, "Why did you bring me here?"
"Every week we come here. Every week we put a new candle down and light it. Tomorrow some new candles will join the fray. Over there, those are our missing in action ones, a sign that we are still waiting for them."
"And this is to convince me to stay here?" She sounded incredulous; she looked guilty, as though ashamed of the words she dared utter in such a room.
Rodney started to wheel his chair away before Cindy took over with pushing—which was good because he probably wasn't strong enough to hold a remote control, much less push himself back. They left the room in silence.
"I don't understand," Lorrah said. She gazed at him as though trying to discern a complicated puzzle. Three degrees and she was more clueless than Ronon on a bad day.
Playing with his IV (despite Cindy constantly pushing his hand away), he tried once more. "There is more than just sorrow in that room."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Would I say something like that if I didn't mean it? Now, I've been here a long time and haven't you wondered why someone like me didn't take the first trip out of here when I had the chance?"
She shrugged in response, clearly thinking he was mad.
"It's because of what is in there—because of what that room represents." He didn't elaborate, even when she asked. Words were never his high point and what was there that he could say? "Never mind. Have fun at Area 51. You don't have to be as quick on the uptake there."
He allowed Cindy to wheel him back and settle him into the bed. If anything he felt worse, and damned if he couldn't get through to that girl. She would leave and it would be a loss.
Cindy wiped his forehead, commenting on his fever still being a little too high for her liking. She offered him some water and even a smile. "I understand what you were trying to tell her," she said, "and I think it's nice you were willing to put her needs before your own."
"Yes, well, didn't make much of a difference did it?"
"You don't seem to me like the type to give up so easily."
"Oh." He cleared his throat in hopes that it would stop the red from rushing to his cheeks. "I…I mean…"
Cindy laughed, dabbing the cloth once more than turning to leave. "Can I get you anything before I go off shift?"
"My laptop?"
To Rodney's surprise, she actually agreed to bring him the computer without so much as asking Carson. Maybe it was something in his pleading eyes. He typed quickly, the thoughts coming from his mind as though they had been waiting to escape for some time now.
To: Dr. Lorrah
From: Dr. Rodney McKay, PhD
Re: The Chapel
Have you ever read To Kill A Mockingbird? Of course you have, or your school was extremely derelict in its curriculum, which judging by the fact you are here, must not be the case.
At any rate, I don't remember the quote exactly, but it goes something like this: 'I wanted you to see what real courage was instead of thinking courage is a man with a gun in his hand. Courage is when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and you see it through. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.'
There are those here that would tell you I'm a coward, while others know better. I can't really tell you which side is right. We all have our moments; I guess. I think the difference between cowardice and courage lies within this quote just as it lies within that room. Every week we light the candles, and keep the others lit. If we didn't, all the wicks would wither away and the room would darken. It's my worst nightmare.
I'm not the best at sharing stuff like this, so bear with me, okay? I look in that room and I see more than just death; I see hope. Yes, I know, it's probably just a product of my delusional mind, but hear me out. I don't go back to Earth because if I did, I wouldn't have the comfort of seeing those lit candles. Of knowing that the human race hasn't given up. That we're still willing to fight. That we have a purpose. You see, a candle lit means someone was there to light it.
As long as one person remains to keep the flame burning, then there is still hope.
You may not think yourself capable of staying here, but me, I think you have more courage than you believe, and that's why you will stay. You'll learn soon enough that I am rarely—if ever—wrong. Now quit lazing about and get back to work.
Sincerely,
Dr. McKay
He pressed the send button, listening to the comforting sound of the IV. Sheppard had taken the bed beside him, and was fast asleep. Deciding the colonel finally had a good idea, Rodney followed in his footsteps.
He had a dream last night,
the same he had before.
The shadows lost in dark;
the aged black wicks were numb.
He had this dream again,
so to find peace in morn,
he crawled into the place
where flames continued bright.
