Fear of Failure
A Stargate Atlantis snippet by Deana Lisi
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson or Rodney. No slash.

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Rodney McKay strolled into the mess hall at approximately 5am. He wanted to get an early start deciphering some new ancient text that he'd found as part of a file in the Atlantis mainframe.

The breakfast servers were there, waiting for early stragglers to come in. There was no one in line that time of morning, as Rodney expected, and he put in his order for a heaping plate of pancakes and eggs. The tray was handed to him, but strangely, so was another.

Rodney frowned at the second tray, which contained French toast and orange juice. "What—" he started to ask.

Wordlessly, the girl pointed behind him.

Rodney turned around, spotting a person's head laid on a table near a window. The dark hair was in disarray, but the person wasn't tall enough to be John.

The French toast—with powdered sugar and extra syrup—provided him with the clue that he needed.

It was Carson.

Rodney nodded at the girl and took the tray, walking over to the table. He sat across from his sleeping friend, wondering why he was there so early—in his pajamas and robe, even. There was a nearly-empty cup of tea beside the doctor's head, and Rodney, ever a genius, stuck his finger in it to check the temperature.

It was freezing, telling Rodney that his friend had been here for a quite a while.

"Carson?" he said, wiping his finger with a napkin.

No answer.

Reaching out a hand, he poked the doctor's shoulder.

Carson's body gave a startled jump, and he slowly twisted his head to see who had interrupted his nap.

"Morning," said Rodney.

Carson's answer was a groan as he tried to straighten up.

"Not a healthy way to sleep," Rodney told him.

Now upright, Carson twisted his head and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the aches. "No," the doctor agreed. "Not at all."

Rodney watched him for a minute, seeing the bleary, exhausted look on Carson's face and the dark circles under his eyes. "You look like crap," he said, baiting him.

Carson said nothing.

"Your hair could win a messy-contest against Sheppard's."

Carson still didn't reply, but he lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, which only messed it up further.

Something was definitely bothering the doctor, and Rodney frowned. "So," he said. "How long have you been sleeping on a mess hall table?"

"Not long," Carson lied, raising the teacup.

"That's not what your tea told me."

Carson stopped before the cup reached his lips. "What?"

"It's freezing cold."

Carson looked in the cup, decided he didn't want to know how Rodney knew that, and placed it back down.

Rodney pushed the tray in front of him. "Try this instead."

Carson looked at the warm French toast, seeing that it was made exactly how he liked it. It smelled wonderful, but he just stared at it.

"Eat it," said Rodney, his mouth full of pancakes. "It'll make you feel better."

Carson didn't feel like eating, but he knew that Rodney was right. He picked up the fork and lifted a piece of the French toast to his mouth, chewing slowly.

Rodney watched, seeing the slight shakiness in his friend's hand. He frowned, growing more concerned. "What's wrong?"

Carson sighed as he ate. "I've been having nightmares."

Rodney knew it'd be easy to find out the problem. Carson wore his heart on his sleeve. "About what? The Wraith?"

Carson shrugged with one shoulder. "Sometimes."

Rodney gulped down half of his coffee. "Maybe you should talk to Heightmeyer."

Carson shook his head. "Pointless. I know what she'll say."

Rodney nodded. Of course Carson knew, he was a doctor, after all. "Well, then…talk to me."

Carson looked at him, stopping in mid-chew.

"Oh come on," said Rodney. "I'm not Mr. Insensitive all the time." He swallowed some eggs. "You are my friend."

Carson smiled at the scientist's unexpected admittance.

Rodney continued to eat, nonchalantly, though he secretly envied the other man's ease at discussing his emotions.

Carson returned to his food, looking like he felt a little better. When he was almost finished, he finally spoke again. "I keep havin' dreams about people that I care about, either…either…dyin'…or bein' captured, or…"

Rodney looked at him. "Or what?"

Carson sighed, picking up the glass of OJ and downing half of it. He put it down with a sigh. "In each dream, it's my fault."

"Your fault? The reason the people die?"

Carson closed his eyes for a second, nodding with another sigh. "It's so realistic, too…I wake up thinkin' that it's reality, that it all really happened."

The look on his friend's face was so crestfallen, that Rodney remarked, "That's terrible."

Carson nodded, staring at the rest of his food, but making no move to touch it.

"Finish," said Rodney, prodding the plate. "Dr. McKay's orders."

Carson looked at him with a half-smile, before obeying.

They were silent for a minute, before Rodney said. "They're just dreams, you know. Not real. Fake. Your imagination."

Carson nodded. "Aye, I know that. They bring back bad memories though."

"Memories?"

Carson nodded again. "In the dreams, I see past incidents as if the results were different."

"What incidents?"

Carson ate his last bite, looking at Rodney. "Yer amazingly patient today."

Rodney smirked. "I try…once in a while."

Carson smiled back, before his face turned serious again. "The retrovirus," he whispered. "I see it turn Sheppard inta…inta what he became…but then I see it kill 'em." He picked up a napkin and started twisting it, nervously. "Then I see Hoff," he could barely even say the planet's name. "But I see everyone on the planet die. Then I even see Teyla, when her mind was controlled by the Wraith…I see myself hit the button ta shock her outta it, but I see it stop her heart instead. I see you…" and he stopped.

"Me?" Rodney prodded, watching his friend, food forgotten.

Carson shook his head, seeming unable to continue. It was a moment before he spoke again. "In the worst dream, I see myself shoot at Elia, that young Wraith lass, but the bullet hits you instead…" He gulped. "I try ta save yer life, I try everythin'! But ya die anyway…"

He was shaking again. Crap.

Rodney, ignoring his usual reluctance to comfort people, reached over and grabbed one of Carson's wrists. "Carson…geez…I'm alive. We're all alive. All of us."

Carson looked at him miserably, still twisting the napkin, his face blushing slightly at seeming such a fool.

Rodney tightened his hold. "All of the situations you just mentioned were similar to past incidents, except for one thing."

"What?" Carson asked.

"You succeeded. You didn't fail at any of them! Sheppard didn't die from the retrovirus, Teyla is fine, and you didn't shoot me! You have no reason to feel this way! Don't you understand?"

Carson nodded, trying to pull his arm back.

But Rodney held on. "Understand?" he asked again.

"Aye," Carson answered. He tried to tug his arm back again. "That hurts."

"Oh!" Rodney said, quickly letting go. "Sorry."

"S'okay," Carson said. He refrained from rubbing it. That boy doesn't know his own strength!

Rodney watched him for a minute. "I believe I've come up with a diagnosis."

Carson shot him an amused look. "Have ya, now?"

"Yes. You have a fear of failure."

Carson looked back down at his plate.

"We all do, Carson," said Rodney. "Look at where we're living! We're in a different galaxy, for goodness sake, full of all kinds of dangerous things! We're on a planet that hardly anyone knows exists! Do you realize that we're practically living a sci-fi TV show?"

Carson smiled. "If me mum could see me now."

Rodney nodded. He raised his cup of coffee, only to find it empty. "More tea?" he asked.

Carson nodded.

Rodney took the trays and cups, bringing them back to the counter. The cooks were laying out cups of tea and coffee now that a few people were strolling in, and Rodney grabbed a couple of them.

Carson watched him, touched to see how much Rodney really did care. Too often, he had to deal with the scientist's whining, shouting, or self-centeredness. This was a very welcome change.

Rodney returned a minute later with the tea, coffee, and two more plates, one of which he placed in front of Carson. It contained a cut-in-half blueberry muffin, hot from the oven, slathered in butter and cinnamon-sugar. "Ohh," Carson said, the smell practically making his mouth water. "Thank you."

Rodney nodded, his mouth already full.

After the muffins were gone, Rodney asked, "Feel better?"

Carson nodded. "Aye. Sorry ta be a bother."

Rodney shook his head. "You're not a bother!" He was silent for a second. "I suppose I should be saying that. I'm usually the bother." He looked down at his coffee mug. "Probably the reason for some of your nightmares."

Carson wondered if he was dreaming now. He was getting more sincerity and feeling out of Rodney in one hour than he usually got in six months. He suddenly realized that his silence could be taken as agreement. "No, no! Ya aren't a bother. Friends help each other."

Rodney's eyes suddenly twinkled. "I'll remember you said that the next time I want you to try out a new Ancient device for me."

Carson almost choked on his tea. I walked right inta that one. "Well, maybe then yer a wee bother."

Rodney chuckled, before his face turned serious again. "We used to talk all the time, remember? Before we came to Atlantis."

Carson nodded. "Aye. Before life became so busy."

Rodney nodded, just as his earpiece suddenly blipped.

"Why you late?" he heard an accented, disembodied voice say. "You say to be at lab at 6. I here at 6. Don't you own a watch?!"

Rodney looked at the time, shocked to find that it was 7. "Whoa, would you look at the time! I'll be there soon, Radek."

"You better," Radek said. He signed off, muttering in Czech.

"Sorry," Carson said. "I didn't know ya were supposed ta work early."

"It's okay," Rodney said.

A minute later, when Carson saw that his friend wasn't leaving, he said, "You can go. I'm okay now."

"You sure?" Rodney asked.

Carson nodded. "Aye, I gotta get ta work too."

"Okay." Rodney stood. "You can still come talk to me, you know," he said, forcing himself to look Carson in the eye. "I mean, everyone comes to you with their problems, including me. You need a friend to go to too," he said. "Maybe that's why you're having nightmares."

Carson nodded. "Yer probably right. I will." He smiled. "Thanks, Rodney, I feel much better. Yer a good friend."

Rodney shrugged one shoulder as if it was nothing. "All in a day's work." He started to walk away, before turning and giving a little wave as he went.

Carson couldn't help but smile as he waved back. Rodney never ceased to amaze him.

THE END
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