Disclaimer: I don't not own Stargate Atlantis or any of it's characters. Do you THINK I would be here If I did?! So I do not in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.
Authors Note: Please read and review. I am excited to see what you all think. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism. I want to thank all my reviews for following this story thus far. Expect three or four more chapters and then I am going to wrap it up, this story is almost at a close.
A/N: Since I adore the episode: "The Shrine", and Rodney and John's touching scene, in which John is wearing the Panda shirt. (Pauses for sqwee) Thus, I revamped the scene to include the Panda shirt, which is probably the best thing EVER.
Those Were Not His Hands
Chapter Six – What about Everything?
Soon after his shower he gradually realized that he didn't have the first clue as to what to do with himself. Having finally cleaned himself up, he found that he had nothing to do until his meeting with Elizabeth the next day. He wasn't used to having so much free time on his hands and the emptiness of his room was unnerving. He sat down on his bed, dressed his most ratty and comfortable sweats, pulling on his panda decaled t-shirt without really noticing what he had slipped off the hanger.
He had taken a half-step to his little fridge for a beer before he changed his mind. He and Rodney had always had beer together, and he rarely drank alone. Cracking open a cold one without Rodney just seemed wrong. He thought about a run, or even a trip to the gym, anything to keep his mind from wandering, but he hadn't been able to muster the energy or the willpower to move past his bathroom. He thought about going to the pier. But again, going there without Rodney seemed nearly sacrilegious. After all, Mckay had been the one that had first taken him out there, coming over with a six-pack of Canadian on his turn, and instead of coming in he had dragged him halfway across the city to the northern-most pier, and they had drank beer as the Atlantian suns had set all around them. It seemed that Rodney had left his mark not only all throughout Atlantis, but throughout his own life as well.
Finally he got up and stretched, pulling his arms high above his head as he eased his sore muscles, rolling up a pant leg he checked on the watertight dressings Carson had applied on his burn, tightening a piece of binding that had come loose before he wandered over to his deck, the high paneled doors swishing open automatically as he approached.
Leaning against the railing he closed his eyes into the strong sea breeze, letting the wind whip up his damp hair, ruffling and slipping through the thick strands to ghost his scalp with the evening chill. He tried to think of nothing, to just let his mind drift into empty space before he eventually realized that it was harder said then done, with his mind unhelpfully supplying more then its fair share of images for him to dwell on. And as he stood there, facing the night time breeze and looking up into the vast canopy of alien stars, he remembered the moments of the past few years, letting them playing out in his minds eye like film from a movie.
Sometime later, he was startled from his thoughts when the door to his quarters chimed, the abrupt noise sending goose bumps down his arms to join the raised hairs that the chill of the wind had raised. Relaxing slightly, he unclenched his fists from the rail, wondering with irritation who would even be awake at this hour, before he pulled himself away from the balcony with a sigh.
Could he not just have this night? Have one night to pull himself together before the vultures descended? He unconsciously squared his shoulders, running a tired hand through his hair before he crossed the room to answer it.
When he keyed the door open, he ended up being surprised at who he saw. He had expected Teyla, Ronon, Lorne, even Elizabeth. But instead, it was Doctor Beckett, Carson, still dressed in his white lab coat, his eyes red and his face tired. His irritated words died on his lips, never making it to open air. It had been idiotic of him to forget, other then him and Zelenka, Carson had been the closest thing Rodney had had to a best friend. Damn.
A few silent seconds ticked by, both at a loss for words. Finally, Carson looked up, meeting his eyes with a steady look, the quiet, steel-strong worth of the Scotsman glimmering through his bright blue eyes. "Colonel..Sheppard..." He began, his voice a gruff accented purr, the words coming out slightly rough, as though he had not spoken in some time.
"John, Carson. It's John." He replied, breaking what little barriers he had left around him by stepping forward and placing a hand on the physicians shoulder. The shorter man looked up, a glimpse of a smile in his eyes as he placed his own hand atop it briefly. "Aye lad, I know." He returned, stepping forward through the doorway as he made room for the man inside his quarters.
Once he had been sat and had a beer forced onto his empty hands, Carson took a long, impressive sip, unconsciously wiping his damp lips of foam with the sleeve of his dirty lab coat. "Thanks Col-...John. Aye, I needed that." He began with a sigh, knuckling his dark brown hair with his free hand, his face exhausted and drawn. And for a few moments, he couldn't help but wonder, as he sat opposite to the Scotsman, his own beer nearly half finished in his fist, just how Carson's coat had gotten so smudged with black and grey..
Sitting forward slightly, Carson reached into his pocket and fished out a small USB drive, turning the small device over and over in his large palm, his eyes flickering down to it, as if it held the answers to whatever questions he sought. Sighing, he took another fortifying sip and finally met his eyes, his gaze steady, but his lips trembling slightly, the only real visual evidence of his grief.
"Some time ago, Rodney came to entrust his personal affairs to me..if..if anything should happen to him." He began, sitting back slightly when he nodded for the man to continue. "At first I wasn't comfortable with it..being his friend before his physician. But he was, of course, rather insistent." He spoke fondly, scratching at his neck stubble thoughtlessly.
"He left a message for everyone. You, me, Elizabeth, Radek, Teyla, even Ronon. But he left a private one for you...And he asked that I make sure that I give it to you...as soon as possible, afterwards..." He trailed off, silently offering the disk drive over. And he took it, holding it in his palm as if it were a piece of precious glass, staring down at it with mixed feelings.
He was grateful when Carson filled the silence, as he didn't know if he could actually speak right then. "You might not believe it, but he didn't want a lot of fuss. A simple ceremony and a cremation..." The Scotsman continued, a smile curving the corners of his lips as he visibly remembered the man, turning his beer can in his hands thoughtfully. "I don't think he is going to get it though. Elizabeth told me that Stargate Command is planning a ceremony with full honours...for when we arrive; SG-1 has even been recalled. They wanted to be there...before he is...before he goes to Jeannie." The man relayed, filling in his silence with idly conversation before coming around to the point.
"But, he asked for something else, he wanted a portion of his ashes to be scattered in space, here in the Pegasus galaxy." He continued, clearing his throat roughly, a hand tiredly running through his hair.
"And you know, when he wrote these instructions for me, he called it home. He called here, Atlantis..he called it home." The man remarked with a fond shake of his head. "Aye..it has become that hasn't it?" He continued, nodding slightly when he inclined his head in agreement. Rodney had been right, it had become home. "But there was something else as well..John. He...He asked if you could do it..Ach...I mean, I know Lorne would-."
"No!...No. I'll do it. It's okay. I want to do it." He nearly shouted, cutting the man off before he could finish the sentence. No one else would do that for Rodney, especially after Rodney had asked it of him. But if the physician had noticed the raise in his voice he gave no sign, only nodding in understanding, taking another hearty sip of his beer.
They stayed in silence for some time; each man deeply immersed in his own private thoughts. Finally Carson leaned forward, looking up to catch his eyes as he raised his beer can. "To Rodney." He offered in toast, a smile coming back to his eyes as he sat up and returned the gesture. "To Rodney." He echoed, the aluminium of the beer cans popping metallically as they clinked together. To Rodney.
"And..Sheppard, John. I know there is nothing I can say...I mean.." He began awkwardly a few minutes after the toast, bowing his head for a moment to collect himself, clearing his throat from grief as he steadfastly continued. "Rodney was one of my best friends. But what you two had was beyond that." He continued, his voice somehow more strong and steady then he had ever heard it, the conviction in it nearly sending him staggering from the physician as every word hit the painful, jagged mess where his heart had been.
"Lad, you know it...and I know it. But what you might not know..is that I think Rodney knew it to. I know he did.. And aye, now that I think on it, it has always been like that John. Always." The doctor finished his eyes kind, but not pitying as he rose, tipping his head back to catch the last few sips of beer before placing the empty can in the trash and moving towards him.
And somehow, as Carson placed a hand on his shoulder, quietly saying he would meet him at the memorial service the next evening, his face haggard, but now holding the ghost of a small smile as he silently showed himself to the door, that despite the hurt and the pain that Beckett's words had caused him, a ray of closure, gratitude, and relief flowed over him. Because he knew what Carson had meant, and God..He had hoped Rodney had felt the same..