Chapter 5: Living with Clipped Wings

"Why not?" Ronon asked, looking at him as though his answer had been randomly pulled from a Wraith's intestine, which was just unhygienic.

"Because I said so! It's a stupid idea, so just forget about it."

"Forget about what, Rodney?" Carson asked as he and Sheppard sat down with the two of them. Rodney shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the number of people at this table whom he knew would side with Ronon. They'd all have their own reasoning of course, backed up with friendly intent, but Rodney still wasn't going to do it. He suddenly wasn't feeling all that hungry any more.

"He doesn't want to go swimming," Ronon announced, his voice somehow softer than it had been before but Rodney assumed it had something to do with keeping the half chewed food in his mouth.

"I'm busy," he snapped, glaring down at his own food to avoid looking at any of them.

"You need to get used to it again," Ronon gravely informed him. "You need to know all your strengths."

"Trust me when I say that this is not a strength! It's a genetic abnormality that I was surviving without just fine, thank you very much. Now can we drop this subject, please? I need to spend the few minutes I have away from the labs ensuring that I actually eat something." He pointedly stabbed at his salad, which was apparently refusing to remain speared on his fork and just added to his frustration.

"Then you need to be aware of your weaknesses." Ronon was relentless.

"It wouldn't hurt to take a couple laps Rodney, just to double check that everything is in working order," Sheppard said, playing the casual route as he pretended to be more interested in his stew. Rodney saw right through the act, completely aware that all three men were very intent on having this conversation.

"Everything is working just fine Colonel, unless the swim through Atlantis last week didn't prove that to you."

"Is it really that bad of an idea, Rodney? Maybe if ye began using yer gills you'd feel more comfortable with them." Carson looked hopefully at him and it just made Rodney's stomach roll. "And if I have the chance to see them in action then it may help me understand them better." He had to forcibly remind himself that their intentions were good, but couldn't they see how uncomfortable this was making him? Couldn't they just accept the hints he'd been bludgeoning them with all week and stop asking? Couldn't everybody just stop talking about it?

"Yes, it's that bad of an idea, Carson. I have no intention of using them and every intention of letting them grow over and disappear. Have you people even thought of me having them on off world missions? What happens when some tribes ceremonies demands that we remove our shirts and then they freak out and try to kill us all because of this," he gestured harshly at his side. "Clearly I'm the only one with any common sense any more," he huffed.

"There's ways around that Rodney and you know we'll keep anything like that from happening," Sheppard looked a bit pinched, no doubt thinking of all the extra work that would take.

"And you might need them on a mission," Ronon added helpfully.

"What? In case somebody decides to perform a ritualistic drowning?" Rodney had lists built in his mind of all the ways his gills could be potentially life saving on a mission, he wasn't an idiot, but if it ever became necessary then he'd just tear them open again. He'd already proved he'd do what was necessary, wasn't that enough?

"Yes McKay, in case the natives decide to tie you to a rock and toss you in the river. When you get out you can prove to them what a powerful witch you are and demand homage."

"Yes, that sounds like a wonderful incentive."

"Don't you want to?" Ronon asked, and everyone sort of just stopped what they were doing; hands paused in tearing a bun in half, a sandwich froze halfway to one's mouth and Rodney lost all his appetite as he glared at the Satedan, furious that he'd bring want into it. This wasn't about want god damn it!

"No, I don't want to! What do you think I've been saying this last week? I haven't wanted to for fifteen years! Why would that suddenly change now?"

"Because it's okay here," Ronon said, staring at Rodney right in the eyes, all sincere and intense and scary. Rodney stood, trying to look annoyed as he felt the food in his stomach churn heavily.

"I have too much work to do to waste it on pointless conversations." He grabbed the chocolate muffin from his still half-full tray on principal and left. He needed to get to work so he could forget all about this conversation. He needed to do something that wasn't standing on his balcony looking at the wide open Atlantian sea and fighting the need to just dive in. He needed too-

"It's just wrong, that's why," the woman's voice hissed from up around the corner, sounding secretive and edgy and obviously not having heard Rodney's approach. He was just going to barrel around the corner and ignore whoever was there when he heard his name thrown into the mix, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"It's not McKay's fault that it happened and there is no reason this should even be an issue," a man answered back, sounding disinterested, like this was an old conversation he'd grown tired of years before.

"It's not natural."

"News flash, most of the stuff we deal with is not 'natural.' Sometimes the things they run into leave lasting results."

"I'm serious, Marlow. Something is wrong about this whole thing. Don't you think we would have heard something about this after the mission it happened on? It doesn't matter how classified their missions sometimes are, word always gets out. There was never even a hint at McKay being turned into a fish. Ever."

"Does it really matter? He's still McKay, and I sure as hell am not complaining about him saving my life last week."

"Of course it matters! If he's been like this since before coming here who knows what else the man is hiding. He is not human and if he's not human then he's a risk to everyone here."

"Stop." Marlow growled, his voice suddenly harsh in the empty corridors. "I don't want to hear another word. McKay is Chief scientist here and he has every right to be. The man has saved all of our asses on a collective level more than once at severe risk to his own. The only thing I've heard coming out of your mouth the last ten minutes is shit. If you have a problem with him then take it to Weir or, hell, request a fucking transfer. Whatever you do just stop talking, because I don't want to hear it. Now let's get back to work."

McKay heard them start rolling something down the corridor, away from him. Her words echoed in his ears. She didn't even consider him human. He was unnatural.

It wasn't something he hadn't heard before from various sources, it just reinforced exactly why he had hidden this aspect of himself for so long. He was used to being a freak, not quite fitting into any social groups growing up just because of his intelligence (and, yes, his personality. big shocker there.). He couldn't afford to let his biology make things more complicated on top of it.

His friends meant well, but they had no idea what they were talking about. Rodney did, he was the genius after all. And the one with the gills.

oooOOOooo

"Our time is up for today, John," Heightmeyer smiled kindly at him from her seat, her hands still folded neatly in her lap, empty. She had never carried a notebook with her in any of their sessions, never blatantly taken notes about him in front of him, and he supposed that was why he didn't fight harder to get out of these meetings with her. Now he found himself blinking slowly at her.

"Already?" He asked. He'd barely said two words to her this whole time, not knowing how to string them together apparently, and now his hour was up. It had gone by a lot faster than it usually did.

"I'm afraid so. Perhaps you'll have more to talk about next week." She unclasped her hands and made to stand up and he quickly jerked forward in his seat.

"Before I head out I have a question for you," he rushed out, relieved when she paused and then sat back down, looking at him patiently. He bit his cheek a moment, not sure how to ask this without betraying that whole doctor/patient confidentiality thing. "How's McKay doing?" She looked at him like she hadn't been expecting the topic of choice.

"I think you should probably ask him yourself," she hedged.

"Yeah, I know, I know. But, without betraying him or anything, can you tell me if he's okay? Has he been talking to you about anything? I'm asking as a friend here, not the Colonel."

"There's not a lot I can say to you, John. Rodney is going through a rough time right now and he's dealing as best as he knows how." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I had hoped he'd be speaking with you about it," and he threw up his arms in exasperation at that.

"It's not for lack of trying," he informed her, hoping for some insight that he may have missed. "I've got to tell you he's being more stubborn than usual about this. He has gills, and I know that he was put through some experimentation at some point and he hates talking about it, but ignoring it isn't going to solve anything."

"You think he's ignoring it?"

"Yes."

"Because he doesn't want to talk about it?"

"He has nothing to be afraid of here, and I don't understand why he can't just trust us with this. We would never, ever, do something that would hurt him and I know he knows this so why he's being so stubborn about it I have no idea."

"And you need to know these things because…"

"Because I can't protect him properly unless I know how and why he's going to react to things."

"I thought you were asking as a friend, not as the Colonel."

"I can't want to protect him as a friend?" He glared at her, daring her to imply that he's not responsible for his friends safety all the time. They've been over this topic before.

"And if you can't protect him then you're not doing your job." She continued, no doubt deciding to try and tackles his 'protection' issues at a later time.

"Yes! If he can't trust me…" he trailed off, remembering how Rodney had flat out refused to go swimming that morning, storming away from their table angrily. Hurt.

"Why do you think it's you he doesn't trust?"

"Not just me, any of us. He won't talk to anyone," he looked at her sharply and saw the barely concealed flinch. It told him everything he needed to know about how McKay's sessions with Heightmeyer were going. "I know it's not personal, not really…"

"But you want to help him and don't know how," she supplied softly and he nodded. "John, you're aware of his past and already know how he reacts to things that threaten him." He remained silent, not continuing her line of thought and she picked it up smoothly. "I can't tell you how to help him because, as you said, he hasn't told any of us what's really bothering him. It's not your fault that he's dealing with things this way, it is simply how he deals. He may never be able to deal with it, but in the end it is his choice on how to react. It is not your responsibility and you haven't done anything to have placed him in this position." He blinked. When did this become about him?

"This isn't my fault?" He echoed. "When did this become about me?" He looked at her accusingly, thinking back over the conversation.

"It's not about you John, that's the point. But you have a part to play now, and now is what matters." She stood gracefully from her seat, blonde curls tumbling artfully around her shoulders and he stood as well. He nodded, frowning as he turned and left.

He knew that what had happened to McKay, with his mother and his genetic changes, wasn't his fault. He wasn't an idiot. But he couldn't deny that he felt a bit better having it confirmed, even though he didn't get any of the answers about McKay that he wanted. He glanced at his watch and frowned when he realised that he still had ten minutes left of his session. She'd tricked him. He found he wasn't all that irritated.

Now all he had to do was get to the bottom of McKay's issues, and he had no idea where to go with that. When he thought about how nervous Rodney was whenever they spoke about it, how hard he had worked to keep them from ever knowing about the gills in the first place…he wanted to hit something. Hard. And then he wanted to rip it apart with his teeth and stomp on it. And then burn it.

It was a good thing he was going to train with Ronon in an hour.

But it wasn't just the experimentation that was bothering McKay. It sure as hell played a big part in how he was reacting now, but Sheppard knew there was more to it, there had to be. John suspected that having gills and not using them would be like living with clipped wings, and that was so far from being okay it was just…wrong. He was going to fix this.

oooOOOooo

Teyla stood back in the shadows and waited as an hour slipped slowly past and the stars began to shine brighter. The air was warm this evening and the area well sheltered from the heavy winds of the night. The water lain out before them was calm, disturbed only by the occasional ripple coming from the small night squid as their glowing forms darted around. This was one of several alcoves protected from the harshness of the sea by the architecture of Atlantis. She had been told that it was designed this way on purpose, as a place for water recreation or possibly training and scientific tests. Many people on Atlantis spent their afternoons off in these areas, and there had been talk of importing sand from the main land to one such spot. It was supposed to be an area for relaxation and fun.

Tonight the air was heavy, the silence speaking of tension and fear. It hurt her to see Rodney like this, standing so close to the edge of the water and refusing to take the final step. She waited silently for another half hour before deciding that it was time to let her presence be known. She stepped up beside him and gazed out at the water. It was dark here, but light from the half moon gave them enough light to easily see by.

Rodney startled when she joined him, and glared a moment before turning to stare purposefully out at the water.

"Is there something you needed?" His voice cracked on the first word from disuse.

"I have everything I need."

"How nice for you," he snapped, and crossed his arms fiercely over his chest, creating an extra barrier for himself. She did not respond, knowing he would turn his words into malice without wanting to, instead waiting in silence as he accepted her presence. She had not been alone with him since before the flooding, and she was well aware that he was avoiding her along with everyone else. After five minutes he looked over at her, his arms relaxing a bit.

"It's late, you should be asleep."

"That's not where I was needed," she replied, allowing for a slight smile.

"You followed me out here?"

"My meditation often brings me here, it is easier to find solace when people aren't knocking on your door all night." He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"I can activate the sound proofing in your room, if you'd like."

"That will not be necessary, though I appreciate the offer. I am more comfortable being aware of what is going on around me."

"I can understand that. Self-security is very important."

"It is, as long as it doesn't interfere with your life to a point that it makes you miserable."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I think you are fighting with your self over something I can not fully comprehend," Teyla spoke softly.

"Is this the part where you tell me that I'll always be the same Rodney and need to not worry about what others think of me?"

"You already know that, but if you need me to say it for you then I can."

"Not necessary." He kept staring at the water and her gaze drifted to look at his fingers flexing strongly on his arms, as if holding himself back.

"I will stand guard if you wish to swim."

"Not necessary," he said sharply and quickly took a step back from the waters edge, his head bowed in a way that did not do justice to his stature. She nodded in acceptance, knowing that it would never be that easy with Rodney McKay.

"If you decide that you ever do want a guard, you can always come to us," she stood tall, offering her full support and he met her eyes a moment, nodding. "You are our family Rodney, we will never hurt you willingly."

"I think I'd prefer it if we all just remained friends. Family's what got me into this mess in the first place," he grimaced and turned away, beginning to head back inside. She did not know what he meant by that, but she didn't like what it inferred as she fell into step beside him. They walked in silence until they reached his quarters, just around the corner from her own, and she once again took his attention.

"I will see you in the morning for breakfast," she stated and he nodded and stepped into his room, no doubt to work on his computer. He would not skip breakfast as it was their tradition to always eat together before a mission. She had seen him safely back to his room, she just hoped he'd be able to find some sleep this evening. There was nothing more she could do at this moment, so she retreated back to her own quarters to rest. Hopefully he would feel better in the morning. Hopefully they all would.

TBC

Thanks to everyone for all the absolutely wonderful comments!! There is more fun to come…at least for us…