Under the Skin

by gategeeks

An accident with Ancient technology puts Beckett and McKay a little closer in touch with the Ancients than they originally anticipated, but will they survive the encounter? Told from Rodney and Carson's POV. Gen fic cowritten by SGC Gategirl & Girrlkitty

13. Chapter 13

Under the Skin – Chapter 13

Carson liked the nights on Atlantis. The cool breeze, carrying with it a hint of salt. He liked this balcony. It was out of the way, and he often came here when he just needed to let his brain rest a little. The moonlight reflecting off the ocean made it seem almost bright out, contrasting with the shadows that filled the city.

He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. It had been a long day. Rodney's tests had all come up normal, and when they had tried triggering Durand's memories, they hadn't gotten so much as a glimmer. For better or worse, Rodney was back to where he had started. Actually, in Carson's opinion it was better, since knowledge is more appreciated and used more responsibly if it's earned.

The sound of another person stepping out on the balcony made him jump a bit, but he didn't turn around. If whoever it was wanted to talk, they would let him know.

"Sorry," a quiet voice said, the shuffling sound of retreating feet following quickly after the hushed apology.

"You aren't intruding. I don't mind the company if you want to stay. This is a nice spot."

The person paused. "Was looking for an unoccupied balcony. I'll find another. Wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone."

Carson sighed. So much for just relaxing. "Sometimes thinking with company is more productive than brooding alone. And it isn't an inconvenience. I'm always here to help."

"Brooding is much more my style."

He turned around, facing the door. The other person was in shadows, but Carson knew who it was. "Rodney, I don't mind the company, and I was starting to get a bit broody myself. We can keep each other from going down that path, how's that sound?"

McKay sighed, stepping a few feet into the light. "I figured I'd be last person you'd want to see after everything."

"Why would you think that? I'd understand if it was the other way around, actually." Carson looked at him, shifting so there was room for two to lean on the railing. "If that's why you wanted to leave, you still can. It won't hurt my feelings."

"No," he said finally, after a moment of silence. "The walls in my quarters were getting boring. Wanted a change of scenery."

"Aye, for such an amazing race, you'd think the Ancients would have put up some wallpaper or something. The unrelieved white gets a mite bit irritating sometimes." He turned back around, looking out over the ocean. "How are you, Rodney, really? I want to know as your friend, not your doctor."

He glanced at Carson for a moment, leaning more heavily against the rail. "I'm not sure. Okay, I think. I feel like I'm missing a limb at times though."

"I can't even imagine. Although it's hard to believe you're actually missing a few memories, with all the others in there. What was it like? I know you don't have the memories themselves, but I didn't take any of your impressions when you were yourself."

"It's like I had access to a wealth of information. It was all right there," he said, trailing off. "If I only had some more time…"

Carson listened to the waves for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Durand is still there you know. Eventually he'll finish whatever it is he's doing, and then we'll have access to at least some of the information, without having to risk you to get it."

"Maybe."

He let the silence stretch for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts. "Have you and the Colonel talked again at all? He played it cool, but he was pretty upset this morning. I think knowing you hadn't had a choice about having your emotions brought to the surface forced him to show a little more than he was comfortable with too."

"No," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. "I've been…avoiding most everyone."

"Any reason why? You disappeared right after I cleared you, so I never got the chance to finish our conversation. Why are you so worried?"

Rodney shrugged. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"I don't mean about the whole situation. Why were so afraid when you found out what that thingy showed Sheppard and I? We're friends Rodney, and while I admit it would be a little bizarre to know you had seen every memory I have, I wouldn't avoid you afterwards."

"I'm arrogant, petty, and bad with people. That ring any bells?"

"Aye, but those of us who know you already knew that was just the face you show to the world. You've been brave, selfless, and surprisingly astute at times. Did you really think we didn't already know?"

Rodney shot him a quick look before turning back to the ocean. "I haven't talked to my sister in four years, Carson, and now you're trying to get me to talk about this whole sharing experience we had. You want to talk about unsettling? That's it."

"We don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to understand that while there were things I learned about you, for the most part it wasn't anything I did'na already know."

Rodney huffed. "You say that now."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Intentionally? No."

"So why do you think I'd lie about this? And what do you mean intentionally?"

"I know you lie to make me feel better. You're a doctor. That's what doctors do."

Carson clenched his hands on the railing. He wasn't sure why that stuck a note in him, but it did. "Rodney, I would never, ever lie to you. I might conceal things, or only give you part of the truth if I don't think you can handle the whole thing, but I would never outright lie. Never."

Rodney looked at him, but didn't comment, his eyes drifting down to the railing Carson was gripping.

Beckett forced himself to relax. He watched the waves, not sure what else he could say. Rodney always went his own way, believed what he wanted to. It was nearly impossible to convince him of something once he had made his mind up. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"For what? Nothing was your fault."

"Yes, it was. None of this would have even happened if I hadn't been so insistent on the Daedalus. Then it was my arguments that convinced Sheppard to allow us to move Durand like we did. I know I couldn't have predicted what happened, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Rodney turned to him, his voice and eyes intense. "And I was the one who refused to listen to medical advice. I chose my own path, Carson. I'm the one who has to live with it."

"You have the right to refuse care, even if I don't agree with you. I might argue with you about it, but I crossed a line I shouldn't have. Saying I did it 'for your own good' isn't an excuse." He sighed, letting himself be lulled a bit by the repetitive sound of the waves crashing against the pier, faint in the distance. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that you have nothing to worry about. Your friends, and there are more than you think, feel the same way about you as they did before all this started."

"Sometimes I think that's a harder thought to put my head around than anything else that's happened to me," Rodney said quietly, pushing himself away from the railing. "And don't beat yourself up about this. I didn't give you a choice."

Carson found himself smiling a bit over that. "Tell you what, I'll agree not to hold myself responsible if you'll agree not to brood over everything that happened."

"I don't brood."

Carson raised an eyebrow, letting the other man see his amusement. "Didn't you just say ten minutes ago that brooding is what you do?"

"Must be mistaking me for someone else."

"Oh, aye, because there are plenty of people lurking in the shadows on this particular balcony tonight." Carson laughed grabbing the other man's arm and starting to steer them both towards the mess hall. "I heard there is a hidden stash of chocolate chip cookies in the kitchens. Up for helping me find them? I think if anyone needs a homemade cookie with real chocolate, it's us."

"Real chocolate?" Rodney's eyes were wide. "Why didn't you mention them before?"

"I only found out a few days ago. I heard one of the kitchen staff wooing one of my nurses with the prospect. He said they have a small stash left, and keep a batch of cookies for special occasions. I'm feeling pretty special, how about you?"

"I think you should have mentioned them earlier. Might have made all the difference you know," he said, sulking.

"Well, we still have to find them. Quite a few people go looking for late-night snacks, so cookies would have to be well-hidden to avoid being devoured. Besides, you have a secret stash of chocolate and coffee hidden somewhere I don't know about, don't you?"

Rodney's eyes widened. "I do not."

"You really expect me to believe that? Your secret stashes are legendary. I think last I heard there was reportedly mountains of chocolate and the bags of the best coffee money could buy."

"Of course I expect you to believe that," Rodney sniffed. "Do you think I'd be so miserable usually if I did have all that?"

Trying hard not to laugh and sound undignified, Carson opened the door to the mess and looked around. "Any ideas on where to start?"

"Try the most obvious place you can think of. No one ever looks there."

Carson opened the large fridge-like box that worked far better than any refrigerator he had ever owned. "Okay, that didn't work. I see no cookies."

"I said obvious, Carson," Rodney mumbled.

Grinning, Carson decided to play dumb. Rodney always seemed to feel better when he had someone to yell at for being a moron. It was stress relief. "Well it was bloody obvious to me. That's where I keep my cookies at home. That way the chocolate doesn't melt."

"Actually," he mumbled, obviously talking around something in his mouth, "the chocolate is supposed to melt."

Carson whirled around. "Rodney McKay! Don't you dare tell me you found them and didn't share!" He stalked over to where the other man was crouched.

He glanced up, a smile on his face as he held up the bag. "You didn't ask."

Carson felt his eyes go wide. He just stood there for a moment in shock before he grabbed the bag out of Rodney's hand. "Cheeky bugger. Didn't you ever learn the meaning of the word share?"

"I know what the dictionary says," he finally replied, his smile fading.

"It means you give the man with the needles cookies when he has a chocolate craving." Carson sat down next to him, handing the bag back over. He savored the cookie. Even with regular supply runs, it had been a while since he had had a cookie. He couldn't help the vaguely pornographic noises he knew he was making.

Rodney glanced over and hit his shoulder against Carson's. "You should probably stop that. People might talk."

"Oh my, God. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I sat and ate cookies? I lived on these in med school."

"That's unhealthy."

He laughed as he grabbed another cookie. "At the time I was convinced multi-vitamins would make up for it. But I barely had time to breathe much less stop for regular meals. And chocolate chip cookies are easy to grab on the go. I have to admit, even today there is almost nothing I won't do for a few of them. They are my greatest vice."

Rodney glanced at him, eyeing him strangely. "You'd do anything for a cookie?"

"It has to be chocolate chip, and the real kind, not the pretend stuff that shows up every now and then. And I did say almost anything, but yes." He blushed a little as he grabbed another one.

"Here," Rodney said, shoving the bag into his hands. "I don't want to know how you found out about these in the first place."

"Rodney! I really did just overhear a snippet of conversation. That particular soldier has been wooing Nancy for weeks now, and I wanted to make sure she was all right giving him his physical. It was a coincidence he was trying a food tactic when I poked my head in."

"Sure," he said, eyeing him carefully. "Why don't you enjoy those? I think it's time for bed."

Carson rolled his eyes, reluctantly putting the bag of cookies back in the pantry he assumed Rodney had gotten them out of. "Okay, what did I say this time?"

"You and your 'I'll do anything for a cookie' speech. As if you just overheard." Rodney rolled his eyes.

Carson went a bit red, but he did shake his head. "I said almost anything. Liking cookies doesn't mean I'll suddenly start doing anything obscene. Have a little faith in me."

"I know all about you and your sheep-loving ways."

"What is it with you and sheep? You have an unhealthy fascination with them."

"You're the one with the sheep calendar with the centerfolds. I've seen it."

"My Mum gave it to me. Was I supposed to say no? Besides, I needed a calendar. I like to have some idea of what time of year it is back home. And it disturbs me that you've been looking through my sheep calendar. Now who has disturbing habits?"

"You're the one flashing it around. Not like I go looking for it."

"It's hanging above my desk in my office. And only someone who flipped through it would know there are centerfolds. I worry about you sometimes."

"You worry about me?" Rodney said, eyes wide. "You're the one with the sheep fetish, flashing it around to anyone who just happens to look in your direction.

"Having a calendar that happens to feature sheep does not make it a fetish. People have calendars with all kinds of fluffy animals on them all the time."

"And they also have some strange fixation with furry creatures which is just too strange to even consider." He shuddered.

Carson laughed, then pushed himself up, reaching out a hand to help Rodney up. "All right, if you're through belittling me, I don't know about you, but I think I can finally get some sleep."

Rodney groaned as Carson helped to lever him up on his feet, yanking down his shirt to its rightful place. "Sleep is overrated."

"Aye, you've probably gotten more than you're used to lately. Just don't stay up too late, and remember, no brooding." He smiled, resting one hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Rodney."

McKay looked at him strangely before nodding. "I think it's way past time for you to go to bed. I'll walk you as far as your quarters."

Carson nodded, dropping his hand and heading back towards his room. "I must admit, the thought of a nice hot shower and sleeping all alone in my room is about as close to heaven as I want to get right now."

McKay glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. "Lorne's not waiting up?"

"Har de har har. I'm afraid Major Lorne is'na my type."

"Oh, I forgot. Not furry enough." The hint of a smile hovered on his lips.

Carson debated growling or laughing, and finally settled on a chuckle. "I really do think you have a seriously repressed sheep obsession you're projecting onto me."

"And I think you protest far too much," he said, glancing over shyly.

Carson stopped at his door, and grinned. "If I did'na protest, I would get accused of agreeing too quickly. At least this way I go down fighting."

Rodney shrugged. "If that's what you want." He paused, pursing his lips for a moment before continuing. "Have a good night. You deserve the rest and…thanks."

"Try to get some sleep yourself. You know where to find me if you ever want to make another cookie run." He gave his friend another genuine smile, hoping Rodney knew how glad he was to have him back to normal. "Good night."

Rodney nodded and trotted off down the hall, heading in the direction they just came from.

Carson sighed, opening his door and taking a moment to enjoy having it to himself. He headed to the shower, knowing the hot water would relax him enough to get a decent amount of sleep. When he finally crawled into bed, he fell asleep hoping Rodney would seek out John, and the last loose end of this interesting week could finally be wrapped up.

xxx

Rodney left Carson, his mind tiredly spinning, but still spinning nonetheless. He knew it was late, but with all the sleep he'd been doing lately, he knew he'd just end up staring at the ceiling—just like this afternoon.

While things had settled down to a certain extent, he still felt naked, exposed, old memories still fresh—too fresh—in his mind. Throughout the day he'd found himself reliving experiences from his past, many of which he had no desire to remember.

Sighing, he let himself walk, allowing his mind to whirl and unwind at its own pace. Several corridors and a transporter trip later, he was back down in the East Pier, his feet taking him unerringly to the labs.

He paused at the door to the lab he only vaguely remembered, the source of his current state of confusion. A PowerBar wrapper littered the floor near the door and he bent down to pick it up, shuffling over to sit in the chair at the large console in the center of the room. Leaning forward, elbows in knees, he held the silver wrapper in his hands, his fingers playing with the material as he let his mind drift in the quiet.

"Okay, see, this is why I had you under guard. I turn my back for ten minutes and one of you ends up down here." Sheppard's voice had a note of exasperation in it.

"I'm not doing anything other than thinking," Rodney said, his voice holding a note of resignation. He refused to look up, his eyes focused entirely on the wrapper, watching as the light reflected and shined on the silver material as he moved it.

"Knowing you, you're probably thinking too much." The Colonel dropped into a chair next to him. "So what's on your mind?"

Rodney glanced over briefly. "I'm surprised you're not armed. I figured you'd have Ronon's gun with you. Just in case I gave you any trouble."

Sheppard shrugged. "I was just doing a last sweep of the area before turning it over to the next shift when I saw a dot." He held up the life signs detector. "Figured I'd come see what was up."

"You're doing a security sweep without your weapon? You sure you're feeling all right, Colonel?"

"What makes you think I don't have one on me somewhere? Just because I don't have the P-90 doesn't mean I'm not armed."

"Come on. I know you far too well. You sleep with your P-90. If you don't have it on a security sweep it's because you weren't doing one."

"I don't sleep with it. It pokes you in the side, and you spend half the night worrying about whether or not you're going to hit the safety when you turn over and accidentally shoot yourself."

Rodney scowled briefly at Sheppard before turning back to his wrapper.

Sheppard sighed. "All right, I was worried about you. I wasn't following you, but I happened to see you heading this direction and thought I'd make sure you were okay. That we were okay."

He glanced up sharply. "Why wouldn't we be? You obviously still have some trust issues, so that's nothing new. So it looks like things are back to normal, so you can go hop off to bed."

"I don't have trust issues, Rodney. I really was going off duty and headed to bed when you blew by me in the hall. You were so absorbed you didn't even see me there. Look, if this is about that Ancient machine thing, I'm not sorry I was there. I forget sometimes that you aren't a soldier, and to be honest, I ask too much of you most of the time. But you always come through. I don't think I ever bother to thank you, but I am glad you're on my team. I can't imagine doing this, fighting the Wraith, without you there to remind me why I fight."

Rodney huffed, shaking his head. "You're right I'm not a soldier, but most of the time everyone forgets that."

"And for what it's worth, I'm sorry about that. But I think you surprised us all with how you've come through. You might not be fully-trained as a member of the military, but you are a soldier of sorts. And I'd rather have you beside me when things are going to hell than a Marine. I know I can count on you."

"Even though I usually can't hit the broad side of the barn?"

Sheppard gave him a wry smile. "I can't deny I'd like to see you get a bit better at that, but not because I want to put you out there to shoot things. I am painfully aware that I can't always be around to protect you, so I want to give you the skills to keep yourself alive until I can get there. But you're not on my team because of shooting abilities. You're on my team because you know how to think in a crisis and get the job done. You come up with solutions no one else would even dream of, and that's the kind of person we need in the field. Hell, you've saved my ass more than once because of that, and I can hit the broad side of a barn."

"Now, why I'd be shooting at a barn in the first place is a good question to ask."

"You know, I always wondered that myself. There could be cows in there."

Rodney shot him an odd look. "What is it with you and Carson and strange animals?"

"Cows are strange? They can be a little goofy, and sometimes creepy, but strange?"

Rodney turned, sitting up a little, scowling at the other man. "Let me re-phrase my question then: what's with yours and Carson's obsessions with animals lately? If it's some kind of strange animal fetish, I don't want to know."

Sheppard looked confused. "I think I'm missing something here. You were the one who brought up barns and shooting at them. I was just pointing out that if you shoot at a barn, you could hit something inside it, like cows."

"Nevermind," he said, waving his hand absently, turning back to the wrapper. "That conversation once was more than my careful sensibilities can take."

"Okay," He drew the word out. After a moment, Rodney felt Sheppard's hand on his arm. "Wanna tell me what's really bothering you? I have a feeling it isn't cows."

"Do you know I was beat up on a regular basis when I was eight? Every day, like clockwork."

"Why? By who?"

"Brad Jameson. He hated me with a passion usually reserved for brussel sprouts and creamed spinach."

"Why did he hate you?"

Rodney shrugged. "I'm not really sure. He was twelve, I was eight. He was as dumb as a load of bricks, but that apparently didn't matter to his parents."

"That must have really sucked. Didn't your parents do anything?"

He laughed once, the sound bitter, harsh. "They were too busy yelling at each other."

The hand on his arm tightened briefly. "I'm sorry. I guess adults don't realize how screwed up they are sometimes. Or they're too busy being screwed up to take note of how it's affecting the kids."

Rodney shrugged. "You can only tell yourself that so many times, Colonel, before it gets old and tired—like me."

Sheppard leaned back in the chair. "Would it help to know my family wasn't much better? My Mom took off when I was pretty small, and my father spent the bulk of his time off doing military things. The only time I really ever saw him was when I'd done something wrong. He'd show up, beat me until my voice was gone from screaming, then disappear again."

"You could at least take care of yourself, stand up for yourself. I had no hope in hell of doing that."

Sheppard snorted. "The only thing that got me through was the dream of flying some day. I saw a bunch of pilots walk by when I was about five, laughing, talking about how free it was when they were up in the air, just them and the plane and the clouds. I spent my childhood waiting for the day I was old enough to enroll in the Air Force Academy."

"Least you had that."

"I wish I could go back and fix it for you. I was a scrawny kid, so I'm not sure how much help I would have been, but if I could have done anything... I didn't look at your memories of your past. That felt too…personal…I guess. I did my best to avoid looking too close."

"It's better you didn't. You probably wouldn't have liked what you saw. I know I don't, but I can't run away from any of it. It just keeps cropping up again and again like a bad B-movie."

"Yeah, if I had looked too close, I'd probably be tempted to hunt a few people down and shoot them for you next time I have leave. But McKay, don't let the past drown out what you have now. This may be a mixed-up and at times bizarre galaxy, but we are a family of sorts. A better one than what most of us grew up with."

Rodney snorted. "Family."

"Yes, family. I know this is more of a home to me than anywhere else I've ever lived. And I…and keeping them safe is important." Sheppard reached over and poked him.

"You know that petty, bad with people thing?"

"It doesn't matter. We've all seen at each other at our worst and our best. And we still stick together, especially when it matters most. That's what family does—it ignores your faults, accepting you as you are. In fact, I've overheard a few scientists whispering that they would never admit it to your face, but they miss your ranting and yelling in the labs. They work better, and harder, when you're there."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "They don't want me to call them on their dumb mistakes, that's all. Nothing more, trust me."

"No, you trust me. They don't like being yelled at, no. But have you actually looked at their faces when they do get a bit of praise? I think you know better than you're willing to admit that most of your staff lives for those moments. Because they know if they can please you, they really have done a good job. You won't sugarcoat it, or lie to them to make them feel better. When they get your approval, they know they earned it. Why do you think so many chose to stay here and continue working, even when the option of returning to Earth was presented to them?"

"A misplaced sense of adventure?"

"Nope. It's because working under you makes them better scientists, and they know it. Have you ever actually looked at any of the reviews the staff submits to the SGC on our performance on a regular basis? 'Hard, but fair and amazing to work for' is pretty much the theme for yours."

"Of course I look, but you can never believe what people put in those things."

"Maybe taken individually, no. But you can't deny it when it happens across the entire staff on a regular basis. Face it, Rodney, you might be the toughest boss any of them have ever worked for, but they pretty much all agree you're the best too, since they actually learn and get better under you."

"Get better?" He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Most days I wonder how they got their degrees. I'm thinking mail order since they don't seem to know any kind of science, let alone the basics of what they're supposed to know."

Sheppard grinned. "There's the Rodney we know and love. Come on, admit it, you've missed being in the labs at the center of everything. I think Zelenka is about to have a heart attack. If you aren't careful, he may throw a party when you get back."

"Doubtful," he said, throwing Sheppard a cautious glance. "And about the labs…"

"What about them?"

"Zelenka's doing fine for now, right?"

"I think he's almost ready to resign if you don't come back soon, but I haven't heard of any explosions. Why?"

Rodney shook his head, focusing back on the PowerBar wrapper. "Might be better to keep him there."

"Why would we want to do that? Even if I thought he would accept, which he has made very clear he wouldn't, I would never ask him. We have you, we don't want anyone else running the science department."

"What if I can't…remember? What if that part's gone?" he hissed, despair in his voice.

"Remember what? Rodney, what's really wrong?" His seat suddenly moved, and Sheppard forced him to look up, his eyes intense.

"I don't know if I remember what I'm supposed to. I can't tell. What if that's gone? What then?"

"Then you re-learn. You're still you, McKay. You still have that genius brain of yours. But I don't think you've forgotten anything important. I think you're just afraid, but when has that ever stopped you before?"

"We don't have time for me to re-learn what I don't know, what I've forgotten. You can't afford the liability."

"We'll make time. Besides, you won't know if you're actually missing anything until you get in there and try, right? So, why worry about it now?"

"Because I'm the only one in this little world that ever considers the reality of any situation. You sit there and say 'if this' 'maybe then'. Reality and John Sheppard have never quite met." Rodney tried to push away, to get up, but Sheppard didn't let him.

"Stop. I'm well aware of the reality of the situation, but I'm also willing to take a leap of faith. Beckett spent hours making sure he didn't touch anything that was yours. I trust him when he said he fixed the problem without causing new issues. Stop creating worst case scenarios in your head, and use the time and effort you're expending to get to the labs and get back to work. It's all still there. Don't doubt yourself."

"Faith," he huffed, "is overrated and usually misplaced."

"I've put my faith in you countless times, and never regretted it. And I don't intend to start now."

"Then apparently your string of good luck may have come to an end."

Sheppard's face was frustrated. His hands tightened on Rodney's arms, almost to the point of pain. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen to what I'm saying, damn it. You haven't lost anything, and you're still in charge of the science department. You are still on my team, and we have a mission scheduled to leave three days from now. If you try to leave Atlantis or step down, I'll fight you until you agree to stay. You are needed here, and nothing—I repeat nothing—has changed that."

"How do you know that? How can you be so sure?"

Sheppard leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Because I know. Because while you've been hiding, I've been out listening to what people are saying. Carson and I had to fend off the entire population from coming to see you while you were recovering. And when word got out that you were getting better, the mess staff even started planning to make all your favorites, including that god-awful blue Jell-O. In other words, I just know."

"There's nothing wrong with blue Jell-O," he said, crossing his hands over his chest now that Sheppard had let go of him. "And I'm not you, Mr. Glass-half-full, Mr. Positive."

"It's not optimism, McKay, its getting out there and seeing how people react. Go to the labs tomorrow. See for yourself. Actually pay attention when you walk through the halls instead of filling your mind with all those equations. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

"Equations are my job…they're predictable. Orderly. People are…messy," he said, rising to his feet, letting them lead him to the other side of the room.

"I'm not telling you to give up equations, just pay attention tomorrow when you get around. Go to the mess for meals, go to the labs. Take a few seconds to look around before you get involved in whatever you're doing. It won't take all that much effort, and you'll see for yourself how Atlantis feels about you."

"I can't," he said, his voice intense, desperate, trying to get the point across to Sheppard. Trying to make him see.

"You can. One day. Anyone can do one day, even you. Don't doubt yourself, Rodney."

He turned, shaking his head. "It's just another one of your pipe dreams, Colonel."

"Why are you so sure of your own failure before you've even tried? Come on, where's the 'I can do six impossible things before breakfast today' attitude? Even if you have to fake it at first, I'm willing to bet some serious chocolate that by the end of the day you wouldn't be pretending any more."

"Because I've lived my life, Colonel. I know my track record. When it comes to equations and science, sure I'm a genius, but as soon as we get to the messy stuff I'm toast. And right now, my head is full of that messy stuff and I don't know how to make heads or tails of it. I'm remembering things that happened when I was six and I'm having problems remembering what some of the equations were that we used to prolong the life of the ZedPM. If I can't do my job, Colonel, I'm no use to anyone. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said heading toward the door, "I think I need to take a walk."

Sheppard was faster than he thought, moving across the room and catching his arm before he could get far. "Damn it, McKay, would you just listen to me? Everything's right on the surface right now, yeah, but the fact that it's all still there means nothing is wrong with you. The memories will settle—Beckett said the device might have stirred things up, but in a few days it will all be back to normal. And getting back to your normal routines will only speed that up."

"Or else I'll end up blowing up Atlantis because of a stupid mistake."

"You won't."

Rodney's words were quiet, desperate, resigned. "I don't know that."

"I do. You've trusted me before with your life. Will you trust me now?"

He looked up, holding Sheppard's gaze for a long moment, neither man speaking, the room silent except for their breaths.

Rodney closed his eyes and turned away, a reluctant nod his answer.

Sheppard let go of his arms with a short squeeze. "Try to get some sleep. Go to the labs tomorrow, and watch how people react to you. Come find me if it gets to be too much, or if you just need someone to talk at for a bit."

"But I'm—"

"Trust me."

Rodney sighed, nodding again. "Fine."

"Good. I'll let you think for a bit. Just, for God's sake promise me you won't try to turn anything on down here. And on the off chance Beckett wanders down, call Lorne." Sheppard started heading towards the transporter.

"Sheppard?"

He turned to look back. "Yeah?"

"While I still think this is not only a waste of time, but a very bad idea, thank you."

Sheppard grinned at him. "So this will be the one time I get to prove the Great Rodney McKay wrong. I can live with that. And you're welcome."

McKay scowled as the Colonel walked down the corridor, vanishing quickly from his view. He sighed, moving a few feet back to the chair he'd been sitting in before, and dropping into it.

He still needed some more time to wade through his memories and this was as good as place as any.

xxx

Carson stood in the doorway watching Rodney. There was a banner strung up over his desk that read "Welcome Back Dr. McKay!" in large red letters, and there was evidence of cake and confetti strewn around the lab. Radek was happily showing Rodney all the notes and reports of the projects that had been generated while he was recovering.

Sheppard had warned him that Rodney was hesitant to come back, fearing he had lost his abilities. He did seem a bit quiet, but the longer he stood watching, the more animated the physicist seemed to be getting. A few muttered "idiots"—under his breath, but loud enough for those around him to hear—brought huge grins to the faces of the science staff. One, Miko, even bounced over to hug the startled man, then blushed and ran to hide in what Carson assumed was another part of the lab. It was nearing lunchtime, so he decided to see if Rodney needed rescuing. "Ah, there you are Rodney. I was heading down to the mess for a bite to eat and thought I'd see if you were hungry."

He looked up, his eyes wide, his face flushed. "I'm…yeah, that's probably a good idea."

"Come along then." He looked up and caught Radek's eye. "I'll send him back after he eats."

"Yes, make him eat," Zelenka said, waving the too of them off. "He needs something other than coffee in his body."

"Aye, returning to bad habits a bit too quick for my taste. But I heard they have blue Jell-O, so I'm not holding out much hope for nutrition today." He linked an arm through Rodney's and started steering him into the hall.

"I had a donut," he protested, glaring over his shoulder.

"A donut is not health food."

"But it is food," he said, yanking his arm from Carson's. "And what's with the hand-holding?"

"Just getting you moving. I didn't want to stand around all day waiting for you to decide what to do. And there is a difference between junk food and healthy food you know."

"Food is food," he said, keeping step with the other man. "What does it matter as long as it's something that's not a liquid? Besides, chocolate is its own food group."

Carson gave an exasperated sigh. "Your body does need the occasional vitamin, not to mention protein, calcium, etcetera. Humor the doctor and eat something with some actual value in addition to the Jell-O."

"I generally do that, so this isn't anything different," he said, throwing Carson a look. "And how did you know I was in the labs, anyway?"

"I took a guess. Nine times out of ten when I want to find you, that's where you are. I just start there now and save myself the trouble of walking all over the city." In the transporter, he hit the button for the correct section of the city.

"I'm too predictable, apparently."

"It's part of your charm."

Rodney snorted. "Sheppard told you then?"

"He mentioned you were considering going back today, yes, but we didn't get much time to talk. Apparently a few of the new soldiers needed disciplining, and he couldn't push that off on poor Major Lorne."

"What this time?" he asked as they walked into the mess hall.

"Apparently he got wind of a few of them talking about stealing a jumper and taking it for a joy ride across the galaxy. He wants to discourage that sort of thing."

He chuckled, picking up a tray. "As if he hasn't done it before himself."

"Oh aye, of course, but its only funny when he gets to go along for the ride. I'm not sure if he was more upset that they were planning it, or that he was'na invited to go." Carson was pleased there were things that looked edible today. He took what looked like something akin to roast beef, the little vegetables that tasted like carrots, and passed the pretend mashed potatoes. They didn't taste anything like mashed potatoes.

Rodney grabbed some food, not a lot, reaching for a coffee cup at the end.

Carson deftly took the cup out of his hand, and replaced it with a cup of water. "Let's not go back to ten cups a day if we can help it, hmm?"

He scowled. "You ask me to come to lunch and then take away part of it. What's that all about?"

"I know as soon as my back is turned you'll down two cups. It's a losing battle, but I'll go down fighting." He took Rodney's arm to steer him away from the coffee and towards an empty table near the back, calls of 'Good to see you back up and about Doctor McKay!' and 'How ya feeling Doctor McKay?' following them as they walked.

Rodney looked startled at the comments, allowing Carson to settle him into a chair without protest.

"You look like you've just been smacked in the face with a fish. What's bothering you?"

"That kind of thing doesn't happen to me." He waved his hand absently before turning to his half-filled plate. "It's just not…normal and a little disconcerting."

Carson gave him a sympathetic look. "Actually, it does happen quite a bit. Maybe not quite as vocal, but how many times have you had a cup of coffee appear beside you when you were working on a project? Or chocolate show up at you door after you've saved the city? People know we came close to losing you this time, so they're just being slightly more overt about their appreciation."

"I…" he trailed off shaking his head.

"Don't just sit there, eat. It'll make you feel better." Carson smiled as he started in on his own meal.

"Right," he said, turning back to the food on his plate, his fork poking at the pseudo-potatoes.

"Why do you keep getting those potato things? You never eat them, you just push them around."

"I eat them," he protested. "I'm just…not as hungry as I thought I was."

Carson sighed, putting his fork down. "All right, what's wrong? A minute ago you were hungry and ready to eat. What changed?"

"I don't know," he said, letting his fork drop to the plate with a metal clank. "Just leave it, will you?"

"Only if you eat."

"Fine," he said, picking up his fork and stabbing it into one of the vegetables on his plate, shoving it into his mouth and chewing it. He swallowed a moment later. "Happy?"

Carson looked meaningfully at the rest of the food, raising an eyebrow.

He scowled again, digging into his plate. "I'm eating, I'm eating."

"Good." Carson grinned and went back to his own meal. "So, how was the lab party? It looked like they went to quite a bit of trouble."

"They did, didn't they?" he said, glancing up mid bite. "It was strange. They should have been happy I was gone for so long, not coming back to work."

"Why wouldn't they be happy to see you? Your staff adores you Rodney." Carson looked up, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Adores? No, not quite. Tolerates is closer to the truth."

"They wouldn't have thrown such an elaborate party if they just tolerated you."

"Which makes it all the more disturbing."

Carson shook his head. "In denial are you? For someone as smart as you, it amazes me how oblivious you can be."

"And I can't believe that Colonel Sheppard might have been right."

Carson opened his eyes wide in mock surprise. "Are my ears deceiving me? Is the great Rodney McKay actually admitting someone else might be right about something?"

Rodney glanced down, eyes on his food. "Fine, make fun."

Carson chuckled. "Don't get defensive. If anything, it's good to see you're finally realizing just how respected you are."

"How am I not supposed to get defensive?" he asked, hissing the question.

"By graciously accepting that everyone is glad to see you up and about again, and anxious to see you get back to work as normal instead of fighting it."

Rodney snorted, shaking his head, glancing up to look at Carson. "You do know who you're talking to, right?"

Carson couldn't help the grin. "Consider it doctor's orders if it makes you feel better. Tell everyone I prescribed saying thank you and mingling with the people of Atlantis as part of your recovery."

He rolled his eyes. "Then, I think, someone may actually believe that I've lost my mind," he said.

"Ah, Rodney," Carson just shook his head. "No one wants you to change you know. We all like you just the way you are, prickly temper, sarcasm and all. What's it going to take to convince you of that?

"Nothing short of a lobotomy I'm afraid, and no, I'm not asking for one," he said, scowling. "Look," he continued, "this kind of…attention is just…unsettling for me. Usually the only way I got any kind of reaction from anyone is because I screwed something up royally or I did something that everyone was jealous about. This…" he said, his hand waving a little, "is new and…strange."

"This," Carson mimicked Rodney's hand motion, "has always been there. You were just too busy to notice."

Rodney ducked his head, a light flush highlighting his cheeks. "Sometimes, I think it was better I didn't know. Now I have to actually live up to their expectations."

"No one has any expectations. Is that what this is about? Rodney, they like you, respect you, and are happy to see you up and about after rather too close a call. That's all."

He shrugged, pushing the remnants of his lunch around. "If you say so, but I should probably get back to work."

Carson eyed him, finally giving up for the moment. "All right. I'm going to finish actually eating my lunch, but if you need to get back, go ahead. I'll catch up with you again later."

"I should," he said, nodding, letting his fork drop to the plate with a clank. He shoved his chair back, grabbing his tray. "Thanks for lunch and I guess I'll see you later."

Carson shook his head again. "Stop being so daft. You're going to give yourself an ulcer. And don't overdo it tonight by staying too late in the labs. I'll send someone to come get you if I can't come myself."

"You'll send someone? I'm not five."

"No, you're just a stubborn, cheeky patient I have to keep a close eye on to make sure he doesn't overdo it and land himself back in my infirmary. If you equate that with a five-year-old...well, you said it, not me."

McKay muttered under his breath, his scowl deepening.

Carson didn't try to keep the smirk off his face. "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

"Nothing," he said, straightening his shoulders as he strode away from the table. A few moments later and Colonel Sheppard slid into the chair Rodney'd just vacated. "He didn't look like a happy camper. I thought we were supposed to help ease him back in, not terrorize him."

Carson sighed, slumping a little into his chair. "That's harder than it sounds. I tried going easy, but he just kept fighting it."

"It's not our fault that he's the exact opposite of any Canadian I've ever known," Sheppard commented, a smirk on his lips. "He okay?"

Carson sighed, picking at the remains of his lunch. "I hope so. He seems to realize he's wanted. He's just having a hard time coming to terms with it. I'm not really sure there's anything else we can do for him. He needs to figure this out on his own."

Sheppard sighed, rubbing a hand over he back of his neck. "No kidding. So, I'm still up for dinner? A little soft music, candlelight…" Sheppard winked.

That startled a chuckle out of Carson. "Somehow I don't think that will make him feel any better. You could try it though. His reaction would be fairly spectacular." Carson gave him a tired grin. "I'll be catching up on my research if you need me. Don't push him this time, as hard as that is. See if he'll open up at all, give you an idea of what's going on in his head."

"Too much, if our conversation last night was any indication."

"He wouldn't be Rodney if he wasn't overanalyzing everything. But he's determined to be stubborn this time, and I'm afraid we can't do a whole lot more until he decides to snap out of it. All we can really do at this point is be his friends and keep an eye on him."

"I guess," Sheppard sighed. "I should probably finish putting together those mission schedules I've been delaying," he said, pushing back from the table. "See you later, doc."

Carson waved at him. "Take it easy, and don't overwork yourself either. Put your team back on the roster. Physically Rodney is ready, and that might be the thing to get his mind back on track."

"I just have to convince Rodney he's ready," Sheppard said as he paused. "And don't worry. The worst injury I'll get today is a paper cut from the paper airplanes."

"Approach it as a given, and if you can, schedule something for yourselves quickly—don't give him too much time to think about it. And don't come crying to me when Major Lorne's airplanes out-fly yours. I'm not going to agree that drops of blood from paper cuts throw off the aerodynamics, so don't try."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching his lips. "I'll keep that in mind, doc. Later."

Carson watched him go, and tried not to sigh. Putting Rodney back together was proving to be more difficult than either of them had anticipated. He got up, dropping off his tray, and headed back to his lab. He did have a huge back-log of research to get through and catch up on, and that was just the thing to take his mind off of one very stubborn physicist.

xxx