Ch 13

A mouth watering scent drifted out of the kitchen and down the halls of Atlantis, beckoning Ronon into the mess hall. There was a lot of earth food that he wasn't familiar with yet. Whatever this was, it smelled great.

"Ronon! What brings you here?" Dr. Weir looked up from her seat in the mess hall, near the open entrance to the kitchen area, where she was playing cards with Sheppard.

"As if ye didn't know," Carson walked out of the kitchen, "I told ye it was a good idea to make extra."

"Extra what?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard grinned, "Extra pizza. Don't worry. There's plenty to go around, big guy. But the first one out is for Rodney. It's all part of the plan."

Ronon's eyebrows lifted at this, "Plan?"

"To help him relax while John tries to talk to him about a few things, that's all." Dr. Weir elaborated.

Ronon's eyebrows lifted higher at this, "And you're sending him?" He pointed at John.

"Aye lad, desperate times, desperate measures." John pouted at Carson, "It's just cooling enough to be wrapped. Ye'd best do whatever it is yer planning."

"Alright," John threw Ronon a smug look, "Keep quiet and prepare to be impressed." He keyed his radio to Rodney's channel, "Well?"

There was a moment of silence before Rodney's confused voice sounded out of the radio, 'Well what?'

Sheppard paused for effect before answering, "Aren't you curious yet about what you can do to start earning my trust back?"

Carson's jaw dropped and Elizabeth looked like she was considering throwing something at John. He lifted his finger to his lips to remind them to keep quiet.

'Oh that is just so juvenile… … … YES! Yes I'm curious.'

A satisfied smile spread across John's face, "Good. Meet me in that tower where your piano is."

'When?' The tone was uncertain and nervous now.

"Now." John answered simply.

There was a muffled sigh, 'Fine.'

He turned back to the kitchen and found that Carson, Elizabeth, and even Ronon stood with their arms folded and accusing looks, "Hey. This will work. Trust me."

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The room was almost exactly as John had remembered it. The dimmed lights in one of the Ancient cities tallest towers allowed a perfect view of the sky above through clear glass. Layers of stars blended together to become almost cloud-like. It felt so open.

Rodney was already there waiting for him, and turned from where he'd been gazing out at that openness when he heard John's footsteps echo in the room. Rodney McKay, the most arrogant man he'd ever met. The man who'd saved his life more times than he could count. The man who was terrified of everything but would put himself in harms way in a heart-beat to protect his team. Probably the only scientist with enough of a sense of fun to let himself be shot at and thrown off a balcony to test a neat device. He might not know McKay as well as he'd once thought he did. But what he'd seen made him want to know more. The man behind that mask was worth the effort.

John couldn't suppress his smile at the bewildered and uncertain look inspired by the crate in his arms and the lightly wrapped package on top. "You smuggle any chairs up here, McKay?"

The scientist looked startled for a moment, "Oh, um, no but…" There was a patented snap pop of his hands before Rodney jogged towards the closed doors beside the transporter, on the flat side of the semi-circular room. They slid open to reveal a long room, which John could see McKay had turned into a work-shop. Parts were piled neatly underneath a make-shift workbench and in various crates. McKay brought out three empty crates and arranged two as seats, and one as a table.

Sheppard sat and unwrapped the still hot pizza. He motioned for McKay to sit and take a slice. The scientist smelled the pizza and eyed the crate warily the entire time. He knew Sheppard often had a casual, cavalier way of dealing with things. But McKay didn't believe for a minute that all he had to do to earn back Sheppard's professional confidence was sit and share a pizza. Although, it was really good pizza. Where had Sheppard gotten pizza?

His suspicions were confirmed after he'd finished his first slice. Sheppard rested his elbows on his knees and looked at McKay, his expression now serious. "So. Now I'm going to tell you how you can start earning my trust back."

Rodney barely suppressed an eye-roll. He'd been pretty certain what Colonel Pit-bull was going to try and get him to talk about. Rodney had even briefly considered refusing Sheppard's invitation. Only briefly. He wasn't sure why, but Sheppard's opinion actually seemed to matter to him more than anyone else's. Damned Colonel with his happy-go-lucky Wraith-naming glass half full cocky fly-boy self-sacrificing constantly joking and incessantly THERE ways… How much valuable discovery time had been wasted all those times Sheppard had MANIPULATED him into watching that football video? McKay folded his arms and prepared for a round of 20 personal questions, most if not all of which he'd have to make up answers for. "I'm listening."

Sheppard watched as McKay rolled his eyes and folded his arms as though steeling himself. The walls were still up. But as Sheppard continued to watch, McKay shifted uncomfortably, then uncertainly… and he could glimpse past Rodney's walls enough to see that this really mattered to him. "Good… Here's what you have to do. You have to trust me."

Rodney frowned in confusion. He trusted John all the time. His life depended on it. "What?"

Sheppard continued in a serious tone, "Trust, like friendship, is a two way thing Rodney. I can't even begin to trust you if you can't trust me."

At that, the confusion deepened. "What are you talking about? I do trust you."

"No you don't." Sheppard countered more forcefully than he intended. This conversation would go no-where fast of Rodney wasn't going to at least admit the obvious truth that he didn't trust any of them.

Rodney's eyes narrowed at the tone and he lifted his chin defiantly, "I trust you all the time! I trust you to keep me alive when we're out on missions..."

"It's not the same thing." John interrupted the beginning of what he knew would become a McKay tirade on all the ways and situations he'd trusted Sheppard in.

The response was a sarcastic snip, "I think you're underestimating the value I place on my life."

Sheppard bit back an equally sarcastic retort. Instead he closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. This was a diversion. McKay was baiting him into another verbal sparring match, rather than dealing with the issue at hand. He looked at his friend and took in the genuine ire, and realized that McKay probably didn't even realize he was doing it half the time. It was habit.

When he was sure he was calm again he patiently repeated himself, "Rodney. It's not the same thing. And it's not just me. It's Elizabeth, Carson, Zelenka… If we're your friends then you really have to trust us, on more than a professional level."

McKay sighed in defeat and accepted the topic, "Trust you in what way?"

A triumphant glint lit up in Sheppard's eyes. Diversion averted! "Talk to us. Trust that we have only your best interests at heart. Trust that we only want what's good for you."

The moody scientist bristled and looked at Sheppard as though he were seriously proposing the world was flat and Creationism was a Science. His best interests? Only what's good for him? Oh please. He couldn't even trust his parents to do that. "Oh how heart-warmingly Mickey Mouse of you. Shall we start up a round of Zippideedooda? Be realistic Colonel. It's a lovely sentiment but you have to look at the bigger picture. There are always larger, more immediate, concerns."

Anger welled up in John at how much Rodney clearly believed that, "That's not true."

"Don't lie to me." Rodney stood and spat out his words vehemently, "Caldwell made it clear that Earths need for a more powerful weapon right now, to use against the Ori AND the Wraith, is a much bigger concern to everyone here and on earth. And who could blame them?"

Caldwell. Sheppard felt his heart clench with anger and the heat start to rise in his face. Caldwell was supposed to be giving Rodney space until he was given the O.K from Weir. "Oh he did, did he? When was this?"

Rodney eyed Sheppard suspiciously. Why did he look surprised and upset by that? They all knew, including Sheppard, why Caldwell was here. "When I saw Carson… in a jumper bay with that…that…"

Sheppard watched as McKay began to stumble over his words turn pale. He knew what McKay was referring to and saved him from having to explain further, for now, "Carson told me about it."

The sudden anger drained from Rodney and was replaced with a sigh of defeat, "I don't blame him. Not really. But when there are two galaxies at stake…"

Sheppard was pretty sure he shouldn't be seeing red. He swallowed hard and forced his voice to sound calm, "That's what Caldwell said?"

"That's what he said…and it makes sense. Logically I know that…"

SNAP! "OF ALL THE…" Sheppard shot off the crate and paced a long line as an internal war of words erupted inside him, imagining all the things he'd like to say to his 'superior' officer. But when he noticed Rodney watching him with a look of surprised concern he forced himself back to the present, "Well, here's what I'M saying. And I'M the one you should listen to because I'M your FRIEND." He paused to make sure he had Rodney's rapt attention, "Carson, Elizabeth, Ronon, Teyla, Radek, and I are your friends. We're your team! We're here to look out for you. You can trust us."

When the doubt and distrust didn't leave Rodney's gaze Sheppard wanted to pick him up and shake him, "McKay. Do you want me to trust you ever again or not?"

"Of course, but…"

"I can't even begin to trust you if you can't trust me."

"I don't know how." The completely crest-fallen answer from Rodney was enough to sap the anger from Sheppard and refocus him on his mission.

"I know, McKay. Relax. I have a plan." He threw his best lopsided flyboy-grin as he opened the crate he'd brought with him, to reveal four six-packs of beer.

Rodney stared blankly at the open crate before cautiously forming a response, "Your plan… is to get me drunk?"

"Trust me. And loosen up a bit. We're just going to play a little drinking game." Sheppard opened one of the packs. And considered a moment. He'd never seen Rodney drink all that much. He'd better make sure he had enough food in him. "Have some more pizza."

"What is this? College?"

"McKay…"

"You do realize that alcohol kills brain cells."

"Rodney…"

"Ok… ok… ok… Just saying…"

"Here's how you play. I'm going to ask you some questions and when I can tell that you're trusting me with the truth, and I trust you a bit more because of it, we'll have a beer. You still look confused so we'll start with a warm-up."

Sheppard had given McKay a goal – earn his trust back – and now he'd given McKay a way to measure his successes – beer. Now John was counting on the stubborn over-achiever in McKay to rise to the challenge. "What's with the piano?"

"Oh," That was an easier question than McKay was expecting, all things considered. "It just helps me to relieve some stress, you know?"

"I get that. What I meant was; why don't you like anyone to hear you?"

McKay bristled, "That's a bit of a personal question, isn't it?"

"That's the point."

"FINE! Because I know I'm not that good. It's just for my own enjoyment, ok?"

Sheppard wondered how the hell McKay reached that conclusion. "Who told you that?"

A fleeting glance at the glittering grand piano held deeply buried disappointment, "My piano teacher told me I was too clinical."

John never would have guessed that the great McKay would hang so much on other people's opinions. Thinking back to Caldwell he realized McKay was actually pretty gullible too. He'd have to remember in the future that Rodney listens to other people more than he lets on. "Well, you either improved a lot or your teacher sucked."

"Really? Uh, thanks." The response was accompanied by a doubtful frown.

"Yes, really. And I play guitar, by the way."

"Oh. Do you speak a foreign language?" Rodney recalled his strange conversation with Zelenka and seized at the opportunity to prove the Czech wrong.

The hopeful look that came with the random question was a little confusing to Sheppard. "A little."

Rodney sighed in disappointment, "Oh."

Wait. Was this another diversion? Dammit. "Rodney! Focus! That was a warm up. Here's the real thing. How much do you remember about what was done to you?"

Rodney looked at John a little like a deer caught in head-lights, only he was caught in indecision. None of this would even be happening if the Trust hadn't somehow found out about Phoenix and his involvement in it… Why did that have to happen? Rodney had been comfortable with the way things were… Wraith and killer nano-bots and such aside…

It felt like his life was being stolen from him a second time. If he just claimed not to remember anything would John leave it at that? "I can't…" He stopped and looked away. After John's speech about trust… that look on his face… Rodney couldn't lie this time. "I can't talk about that. Please don't ask me to."

"You can. It's just hard. I told you, you could earn my trust back, if you really tried. This is where the trying comes in." The silence seemed to stretch long as John waited for Rodney's answer, while Rodney stared at a fixed point on the floor.

"I remember everything."

John nodded, unsurprised, "Why never tell us about it?"

Rodney stood and began to pace as he counted off reasons on his fingers. "Because I want to forget. Because I couldn't risk it. Because I don't want to be used that way again…"

Finally getting a real look at the way Rodney thinks was even bleaker than John had expected. The man had some pretty messed up misconceptions, "You really think we'd use you?"

"You do." It wasn't said accusingly.

But that didn't take the edge off it one bit, "What!"

The need to elaborate what was to him an obvious point elicited an eye-roll from McKay, "It's why I'm here. To do a job. I'm an astrophysicist. I'm an engineer. I'm a damn good scientist and I'm a genius. It's what I'm here to be used for and I like it. I love this work."

"Keep going." John prompted.

Rodney stopped pacing and turned to him, becoming agitated and gesturing animatedly as he spoke, "But if you knew I could do more, wouldn't you expect it? Wouldn't everyone? Even if it's not what I want? I'm not a translator, I'm not a doctor, I'm not an environmentalist, I'm not a chemist, not a geologist. I'm a damn good Astro-physicist with a dash of Engineering. This way the choice is mine. It stays mine. No-one tries to take it away…use me just because I'm the one that's capable. I don't care about politics, nations fighting nations, spying, assassination, it's all pointlessly stupid it's…"

"Whoah, whoah. Slow down. I need to catch up." It was difficult to be sure, but it seemed like the subject had changed a few times there.

"Sorry. It's just… it's not that I think you'd do that. I've revealed too much of myself before and… It's just I can't risk that anyone else would… would… I mean if they found out that I could…"

Ok, So McKay was trying to say that he was afraid of losing his choices. Sheppard thought of how he'd feel if he was never allowed to fly again, "I think I get it. Here, have a beer."

The can was snatched up and downed in one.

Sheppard watched as it took effect and his friend relaxed minimally, "Ok… So you remember. I get that you don't want to be used. I sort of get why you didn't want to talk about it. So next question; Why'd they take you in the first place? Why you?"

His friend sighed and sat back down, "That's what I was trying to tell you. They picked me because the scope of my understanding was broader than anyone else they could find while losing no depth of understanding."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, for example, that I'm about as capable in every other field of science as I am in physics."

That actually explained a lot. McKay was always displaying a ridiculous amount of knowledge about everything. It had been confusing when McKay would suddenly claim something was beyond him and have one of his specialists handle it. But if Sheppard ever tried to call him on it McKay always had a long complex, sarcastic explanation that Sheppard didn't have the expertise to challenge. "Ok. Anything else you've been holding back on?"

Rodney thinks for a moment, then nods, "Actually…I can speak all the languages of the people on Atlantis."

Now that was a surprise. John nearly sprayed his beer everywhere, but managed to force himself to swallow, "So you know what they're saying when they think you don't! They'd kill you! No wait, RADEK would kill you!"

John took another swig of his own beer before tossing Rodney his second, "For that you get another beer."

Rodney grinned mischievously but it was quickly replaced by a look of wide-eyed concern, "You're not going to tell them, are you?"

John sighed and looked at Rodney seriously, "McKay… Rodney. Everything you say can remain between us… unless your health or the safety of Atlantis is at risk by it. Everything you've told me so far, as far as I'm concerned, isn't my place to tell the others."

"Good." Rodney nodded gratefully, then looked distant, "That was another reason why me. You see, people, they think how they speak. In their own language. Their thoughts, everything they know, everything they understand about the world is structured and filtered through that. If you can't understand their language, you can't really understand what they're thinking. There's not much point in trying to give someone the ability to read minds if they won't be able to process or understand anything they see."

This seemed like as good an opening as any to ask the million dollar question, "O.K… Did it work?"

There was a long pause of silence between the two men before Rodney answered, "Yes."

John's eyes widened in surprise and he felt a surge of paranoia. Had Rodney been reading their minds all this time? "Um, how well?"

"A lot well."

John did his best not to look too freaked out, "So can you…? He gestured at his head and winced."

"No!" Rodney blurted, "God no. I shudder to think what mysteries lay in the void that is the mind of John Sheppard. Or any of the other marines here come to think of it. I'd probably loose brain cells just looking!"

John was first relieved, then insulted, "Hey!" He was about to shoot out a witty retort when he noticed that Rodney wasn't looking directly at him anymore. John narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "You're holding something back. What aren't you saying?"

"It's complicated," McKay wrung his hands nervously, the way he did when they were out on missions and he had to explain that things were about to turn from bad to worse. That look was never good.

"Try me."

"The drugs… the treatments… the things they did to me…" Rodney scrunched his eyes closed against the memories and forced himself to continue with his explanation, "They wear off, over a relatively short time. Within like two months of… of… getting away I was just your average Joe Genius with only my massive intellect to set me apart and help me survive."

"But..."

"But something's not quite right. Pretty much since we first came to Pegasus. It's not like before. Nothing like before. I get impressions sometimes… no more than most people's instincts I think. I can't control it. It just happens. And I can't read minds… just get emotions mostly, barely.

Except for a couple of times. It started with that energy sucking entity… then later with Chaya. I could tell she was lieing. I figure maybe it's because she was an ancient. She and that entity must have something in common. I mean, the ancients were studying it to evolve so it would make sense. The truth is I try not to think about it. For the most part it was just those two times and nothing worse has happened. I did a few scans of myself when I first found the ancient medical equipment and was figuring out how it worked for Carson, and couldn't find anything so… So I just tried not to think about it." Rodney swallowed dryly and finished the beer he was still holding. Knowing something was wrong with him, and not being able to tell anyone, had been difficult. It was idiotic for him to be talking about it now. But now he'd said this much, what was the point in holding back?

The Chaya situation was still a sore spot for John. So that's why Rodney had been so certain about Chaya. And this had been going on since the energy entity? Carson would not be happy about that. They could both complain about that later. "How about the telekinesis?"

At that, Rodney shot John a look of death, "If I answer that will you and the human canon stop throwing things at me?"

John sighed tiredly at the new conversational bunny trail Rodney was hopping onto. Getting Rodney to stay on any topic he wasn't completely comfortable with was exhausting. "Rodney…"

Hop, hop, down the trail, "I'm just saying that left bruises! You damaged blood vessels!"

"Alright." If it will get him to drop it and answer the damn question, "I'm sorry. Now answer the question and have another beer."

"Fine. I honestly don't know. As I said before, I shouldn't be able to at all. But, all things considered, probably maybe a little. I certainly haven't tested it. I do know that I couldn't have stopped that ball or… or… what did you throw at me?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes, "A pen."

"Right. A PEN! You could have put my eye out!"

Sheppard did his best to ignore the bunny trail, "Maybe we should test it. Can you show me?"

"What! You want to see my eye put out?"

"Rodney."

"I suppose it would be a good idea to know…"

"You know what else would be a good idea, don't you? You need to let Carson check you over."

"No."

"Rodney. He's your friend too. You can trust him. And if something is going on up in that big brain of yours, you need to figure out what it is. Give him a chance?"

"Fine. I guess it can't be avoided anymore."

Not exactly the declaration of trust and confidence that Sheppard had been hoping for, but he'd take it. "Ok. Last question for now. What was that big iron thing for?"

Rodney took a deep breath tried to ignore the fact that his voice was suddenly weak and shaky. He tried to approach it clinically, as though he were explaining some ancient bit of technology to Sheppard and not… "A few things. Three, actually. One - Some of the chemicals were more effective as gasses. Two – the drugs weren't effective enough by themselves. To initially activate parts of our brains that were never meant to be used that way sensory depravation was required. It would starve the brain for input, thereby forcing it to seek input elsewhere… in the parts stimulated by the drug treatments. And Three – they would give me a task to complete, some information to gather usually, and they wouldn't let me out until I'd completed it…" He took a shuddering breath, "There! ... there… I said it… That wasn't so bad…"

John watched as Rodney tried to explain in a detached manner, but as he spoke his friend paled badly and by the time he was finished Rodney was hyperventilating. John took another empty can out of his friends badly shaking hands, "It's ok Rodney. You did good. We're gonna take a break from the questions now."

When Rodney's breathing didn't slow John looked around the room for something else for the scientist to focus on. He knew from experience that what Rodney needed was something sciencey, then he spotted it… "Say, what's that gun thing on the work-bench over there. You haven't been playing with weapons up here by yourself, have you?"

Rodney followed Sheppard's gaze, "What? Oh THAT. No, Rambo, it's not a weapon. It's a portable anti-gravitational field generator I've been tinkering with. It works pretty well actually. It's ancient design. It was actually quite a common tool, but they didn't leave any behind in the city that I could find. They left blue-prints though…" His breathing evened as he expounded on the theories behind how the device worked and an excited glint appeared in his eyes as he listed alternative applications.

"That's a lot of applications," John observed, "So… would it really be such a bad thing if it turns out that you can, you know, make things float?"

Rodney rolled his eyes scornfully, "There is a hell of a lot more to telekinesis than 'making things float' Colonel. And YES it would be a bad thing. Though I'll admit for the two months it lasted while I was on my own, it was kind of fun. Oh stop looking at me like that, FINE, we'll test it now."

Sheppard grinned like a kid in spite of the potential seriousness of the situation. Real life super-powers were hard to deny as cool. He wondered what 'fun' things Rodney had done when he was on his own. Wait… when had he been on his own? He was about to ask but Rodney had already darted to his work shop and was coming out with a vial of shiny stuff. "What's that?"

"These are tiny little left-over fragments of ancient crystals. I thought they might come in handy later, maybe as a polymer base if dusted… they should be light yet visible enough for a simple test." He unstopped the vial and shook a little out onto the floor. They made a tinkling sound as they fell.

Sheppard watched as Rodney narrowed his eyes in a look of concentration. He followed Rodney's gaze down to the fragments on the floor… nothing happened at first. Then one of the smallest pieces lifted slowly and hovered about a metre in the air. Sheppard crouched to look at it more closely. "Cool!"

"Heh, yeah. I could only get one though, and it's difficult." The fragment wobbled up and down and Rodney's brows furrowed in surprised concern. He wasn't telling it to do that. A strange buzzing sensation that had been floating pleasantly at the back of Rodney's head suddenly became stronger. Where was that coming from? Oh ya… beer. "That's not good."

Catching the worry in Rodney's tone, John quickly looked away from the floating object to his friend, "What?"

A sharp stab of pain shot through Rodney's skull as he tried to regain control. He cried out and put his hands to his head, "It hurts."

A high-pitched whirring caused Sheppard to turn back to the fragment in time to see it start spinning more quickly and shaking, "Ok, ok! You can stop now!"

"No, actually, I can't." The tight pain and urgency in Rodney's voice brought John to his side.

"Rodney?" He lay a hand on Rodney's shoulder, but his friend seemed unaware that he had even moved.

"It's out of control! Back away from it now!" The panicked tone moved Sheppard into quick action. He grabbed Rodney and dragged him down and away from the fragment seconds before a loud bang and a bright flash.

Sheppard turned to see smoke hanging in the air, and a metre wide black scorch mark on the floor where they'd been standing. Apparently that had been the radius of the blast. A quiet groan turned his attention back to McKay, "Rodney?"

His eyes were scrunched closed and he curled in on himself, "Still hurts."

"You said yes about Carson, right?" Not that Sheppard wasn't going to call the doctor now whether Rodney liked it or not. But if it Rodney could feel like it was his choice, that would be better. Fortunately Rodney nodded weakly.

With a quick flip of his radio he called Beckett, "Carson, this is Sheppard. You can come in now. Hurry."

Fortunately, the mother-hen instincts had left the physician unable to wait in the infirmary or the mess hall. It was all Sheppard could do to convince him to wait at the other end of the transporter until Rodney was ready to talk to him. In an instant Carson was marching out of the transporter. "About time!" Then he noticed Rodney, "… Bloody hell! What have ye done to him!"

"I don't know! We were just testing out his telekinesis and it all went wrong!" Sheppard answered honestly.

"You what?" Carson demanded in a horrified tone. "Ye were just supposed to talk to him ye git!"

"I didn't know this could happen!" Sheppard defended.

"Spontaneous combustion ring a bell, Colonel?" Carson reddened in anger.

Sheppard winced guiltily. Carson had a point, "Rodney? What happened! How do we help you?"

Rodney cracked open his eyes at John's plea's of concern and managed a short-syllable answer, "Beer bad. Need coffee."

"Oh lovely. Ye got him drunk first! Have I called ye a git yet?"

"He agreed to come to the infirmary." John lamely defended.

"Now if only he could walk there too!" Carson scowled and muttered something that sounded like 'git' again.

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