Chapter 7: Carry that weight
"I'd like to thank you all for being here. I know that, wherever he is, Rodney would be pleased to see this. He'd hide it, but he'd be pleased that we're here, for him. Maybe a bit disbelieving that, even all these years after his disappearance, there are still people around who can't help but remember him." Jeanie takes a sip of wine, visibly overwhelmed by her emotion.
"I'm pleased for him that year after year, you come back. It seems like such a short time has passed when I look at you all, but it's too long a time to be without him…" Jeanie breaks off there, her lower lips trembling, her eyes moist. She smiles and a few of her guests laugh. "Next year I won't cry."
"Luv, that's what you've said every year, and I keep telling you next year he might be here and there won't be a need for tears." Carson lifts his glass and takes over the toast. "To us, who are here, who have survived and come home to tell the tales of those we knew."
John watches all the smiling faces, hears Carson's toast echoed in many voices. He looks at Jeanie who smiles, looks at Carson, busy telling a tale of the infirmary, carefully avoiding any mentions of strange, alien things, for Madison is without security clearance.
John looks at the faces: Miko, Williams, Miller, Latour, Carson, Carter, Jeanie, Kaleb, Madison. He notes Levin's absence, and thinks he should not have come either. He does not belong here, with Rodney's family, remembering him, trading stories. He downs his glass and pours himself another. No one will comment if John Sheppard gets wasted in honour of Rodney McKay, wherever he might be.
This is where John truly breaks. Not in Atlantis, knowing he is surrounded by death; not in Teyla's room, shutting her eyes; not in the control room, realising there are eight of them left; not on the Mainland, burying them all; not sitting on Ronon's bed, toying with his weapon, remembering how he longed for one, and barely able to stand the fact that he owns it.
Here. In Jeanie's home, surrounded by people he once knew, but still alone. Lost. It's quiet and private. He has had so many years of practice at hiding in plain sight that John knows no one has noticed this shift. No one can know that the last block fell into place. Just like that damnable cube they found so many years ago, John is hidden beyond layers of complicated coding. He is safe beneath his defences, for he will not allow anyone to try to break the code.
Inside, John is dying, desperate to run, hide, breakdown just once and allow his life to melt away. He wants the city back, he wants his people back, he wants his family back and he aches. His heart and his soul, if he still possesses one, are deep, poisoned hole of pain.
Nevertheless, all the world knows is that John fills his glass and joins in Carson's mirthful enjoyment of Rodney on morphine.
O-O-O-O-O
The Daedalus was on its way. One day out, at the most.
The city was quiet, and once again, John watched Rodney get out of bed, taking care not to disturb anyone. He waited a few seconds before rising from his chair and following.
Rodney shuffled down the corridor, his socked feet muffling the sound of his steps. John watched him go, part worried, part disgusted.
What had happened to Rodney? How had he become this man without any of them noticing? Power, needs, wants, that was all that drove Rodney now. He did not realise why they had to go, said that the price had already been paid, they should be taking advantage of the opportunity they had.
John followed him to the living quarters. He hid when Rodney came back out of his room with mission gear. His clothes, his vest, his weapon. He had two backpacks and two hard-plastic cases. John gave him a few seconds advance and continued to trail him. Rodney had never gotten the knack of being aware of his surrounding in the city. He had felt safe, most of the time, claiming that the city was overflowing with marines who were there to protect his precious brain.
They made it to the control room without Rodney noticing John's presence. John stayed hidden by the corner and watched Rodney slowly make his way to the DHD.
He watched the gate dial, the address unfamiliar, but John had never been one to remember all the planets they visited.
He watched Rodney walk down the stairs. John drew close to the DHD as Rodney approached the gate. His heart was beating fast; his mind was a whirlwind of choices, possibilities. He watched Rodney walk away from him, from them and his mind screamed for him to act.
Let him go! He won't be your problem anymore! He's a big boy and he can take care of himself. He obviously knows where he's going. He can get to an outpost and be safe. Maybe he will save the galaxy. There's nothing for him on Earth, he would be miserable.
Raise the shield! Call out to him! He can't leave. He'll run into the Wraith, run into an enemy and betray Earth. It's dangerous out there, and you never leave a man behind. How will you live with yourself if you leave Rodney in Pegasus?
Ironically, it was Rodney's voice that settled the matter. I saw threat neutralisation and went with it.
John was used to listening to Rodney, taking his advice into consideration, trusting him.
As Rodney's back disappeared into the event horizon, John shut the gate.
Rodney's backpack fell to the floor, the straps severed.
John stood frozen, in the darkness of the control room. He breathed deeply in the stillness of the night, alone and lost.
Fin
I'm almost sorry for this. Almost :) Thank you very much for reading!