A/N:
Spoilers for episode 'Sunday'
Hey! This is my very first piece of fiction ever so I'm a bit nervous posting it. I'd really appreciate any feedback and constructive criticism you have for me. Please let me know what you think! I'll post the next chapter soon. Sorry in advance for any mistakes
Chapter one
Two days had passed since Atlantis' senior staff members returned from Doctor Carson Becket's Funeral on earth. The normally vibrant city seemed subdued as its occupants mourned the loss of their colleague and friend. As soon as they had arrived Rodney retreated silently to his quarters, not wanting to stick around to hear the meaningless platitudes and hollow words being exchanged. Carson was dead. No Words would bring him back. Ronon's words came to mind and he chuckled darkly - 'What's done is done'. His legs gave out as he slid down the wall and fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap.
There were no tears, just the cold emptiness that settled in his heart. Guilt consumed him as he sat lost in his thoughts: Harriet and Watson shouldn't have been left alone with the device in the first place. I never should have left them unsupervised. And Carson shouldn't have been in the city in the first place. If I'd just gone fishing like I promised none of this would have happened'. His stomach lurched at the thought. 'Oh God, my best friends dead and it's all my fault!'. He barely made it to the bathroom before he began retching violently.
John stood in the shower letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles. Sparing with Ronon had been a good way to let out some of his frustration and anger from the past weeks events but his body was paying for it. He sighed and turned of the water, wincing as he bumped his bruised knuckles in the process. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he headed into his bedroom.
The whole situation had left him feeling helpless. There had been no attack or alien invasion he could fight off. No, it was just a simple lab accident and two more good peoples lives had been lost while he could do nothing but watch. It had been hard on everyone. He pushed the thoughts aside and grabbed some clothes he thought were clean off of the ever growing pile on the floor. He put them on stiffly, ran a hand through his damp hair and left his quarters.
He was heading to the mess hall when his thoughts turned to Rodney. No one had seen head nor tail of the elusive physicist since their return. He new his friend would be having a hard time dealing with the loss of his best friend, but for Rodney to have not been to his lab or even to the mess was unlike him. Concern won out over hunger and John decided his dinner would have to wait. He did an about-turn and walked down the corridors leading to Rodney's quarters.
About five minutes later he arrived at his destination. It struck him he had no idea what he was going to say to his grieving friend. He had never been very good at talking about 'feelings'. He briefly considered walking away and instantly felt ashamed at having such a cowardly thought. Before he could change his mind again he opened the door and walked in, not bothering with the door chime.
The bed looked unslept on and the room was eerily quiet. "Rodney?" he called out softly. He was unsurprised at the lack of response. An icy breeze swept through the room, drawing his attention to the open door that lead to the balcony.
He walked outside and his eyes widened at the site in front in him. Rodney sat on the edge, shoulders slumped, with his legs hanging limply over the side. He was wearing a short sleeved short which was wet through from rain that afternoon. He'd been sitting there a while then, John thought to himself. He could see how badly the man was trembling even with the distance between them. He regretted not checking up on his friend sooner. Rodney looked so broken and defeated sitting there alone, it made John's heart ache.
"Rodney?" he said, his voice low so as not to startle him. Rodney showed no signs of having heard, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was no longer alone. John walked up to him cautiously and sat down next to him.
"Hey buddy" he tried again.
Once again he got no reply, but this time at least, Rodney turned to face him. He tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to hide his concern at his friends appearance. Rodney's normally pale face had taken on a ghostly pallor, in stark contrast to the dark stubble that looked so out of place on the normally clean shaven man. His eyes though, were something John would never forget. Eyes once a brilliant, bright blue, so full of life and wonder were now a dull, lifeless grey. Heavy dark circles surrounded them give him a death like, haunted look.
" Zelenka's pulling his hair out trying to keep the science department in check without you, ya know. Says they get overconfident without you to put them in their place" he said lightly, hoping to get a rise out of Mckay about his idiotic , incompetent staff not being able to last five minutes without him, but all he got was an empty stare.
Shepard sighed softly. " It's freezing out here buddy. Come inside and get some dry clothes on before you catch a cold" He stood and offered Rodney his hand to help him up. Rodney stared a little while longer before reluctantly reaching out to take hold and slowly got up on his feet.
John watched with growing concern as his now standing friend swayed dangerously. He reached out to steady him. "Then" he added "your coming with me to the mess. You need to eat something" he said firmly, though not unkindly.
He expected McKay to protest at being ordered about. He was a little disturbed then, when instead of the usual muttered complaints, Rodney just gave him a resigned look and followed him inside with no more than a sigh.
After an uncomfortably silent walk, they finally arrived at the mess hall. Fortunately, most people had already been and gone, leaving the place nearly empty.
John watched and smiled as McKay headed straight for the coffee. It was the first normal thing he'd seen his friend do since he'd gone looking for him. Looking back around, he served himself a generous serving of 'beef' stew and headed to the table in the far corner where Rodney had seated himself.
He frowned as he saw Rodney had only a piece of plain toast and his coffee. The man lived for food! It was just wrong to see him with so little on his plate, eating slowly and mechanically like it was a chore. He still hadn't uttered a single word. John decided this unusual and rather disconcerting behaviour had gone on long enough.
"Come on buddy, talk to me. This whole silence thing is getting kinda creepy." He pleaded, surprising himself at how desperate he sounded. "What's going on in that big brain of yours?".
There was a long pause and John thought he once again would get no answer. He started when Rodney finally spoke.
"Why do you care?" his voice painfully hoarse from disuse.
The words hit John like a punch in the gut. There was none of the usual bite or sarcasm behind them, just genuine confusion and sadness.
'What the hell am I supposed to say to that' John thought frantically. 'He's my teammate, no, my friend. Of course I care! How can he not know that!'
While John was lost in his internal monologue, Rodney had interpreted the lack of response as conformation that no, John didn't care about him. Why would he? He stood up abruptly and hurried out, leaving his half eaten toast behind.
John was pulled out of his thoughts as he watched Rodney practically run out of the mess hall. "Crap" he muttered under his breath. "Rodney, wait! " he yelled and chased after his friend. This was really not going well.