The Cynical Soldier
Chapter 8 Iss2;
Rodney turned away from Sheppard to look around the room and froze. There were people crowding along the balcony with smiling faces and their eyes were full of relief and hope. Teyla stood halfway down a flight of steps keeping them back, and he thanked her silently from the bottom of his soul. Just looking at these people from a distance he felt a weight of responsibility to protect that almost physically dragged him down, that weight of hope focused on him.
A small man with wild hair and glasses went to move past Teyla. She placed a hand on his forearm and her gentle voice carried over to him. "I'm sorry, Radek. He is not ready yet."
The small man looked from Teyla to him, eyes roving over his body, looking for injuries and finally coming to rest on his face, locking eyes with him. Rodney watched him warily, saw the sadness in him as he nodded slowly and turned away. As Rodney watched him, the weight seemed to lighten a little. He wondered briefly who he was before he realised Sheppard was approaching him slowly. "Let's go, shall we?" he said softly. "You ready, Rodney?"
Rodney nodded and Sheppard gently herded him to a corridor on the other side of the room, where Carson was waiting with soft smiling eyes. Avoiding eye contact with the people on the balcony as they watched him, he walked under them and away down the corridor, looking behind him at Sheppard regularly to see that he was keeping his distance, even while a part inside was just checking he was still there.
He followed Carson into the infirmary by a couple of paces. There was a woman waiting there with a red top, grey trousers and reddish brown hair. One arm across her torso supporting her elbow as her other hand rested on her shoulder against her throat. She exhaled when he entered, a smile blossoming on her face and her eyes bright, "Rodney."
She looked at him with such fondness and compassion, her smile stretching. "I'm Elizabeth, Lorne told me everything. Don't worry, Rodney, we'll figure this out. You'll be back to yourself before you know it."
"This way, Rodney," Carson said gently, as he led him over to a machine. "This is a full body scan. I need you to lie here and stay as still as you can while it scans you. It will take two minutes, are you okay with that, Rodney?"
He swallowed, pushing down the apprehension, telling himself if they were going to do anything they would have done it by now. He nodded. "It's up to you if you keep the knife, it shouldn't affect the scan," Carson said.
He looked down in surprise at the knife still in his hand. He looked at them all before carefully placing the knife on the bedside table and climbing onto the bed. He lay down and looked up at Carson, who smiled encouragingly.
He watched as Carson moved over to a console with a large display on it. As he activated it, Rodney watched the machine scan him, trying to remain still, trying to keep panic at bay. "Okay, Rodney. That's it." The head moved out of the way and Rodney sat up, swinging his legs over the side. Carson was looking over the scan on the display.
Sheppard moved to stand next to Carson, "Well, Doc? You find anything?"
He heard Carson sigh, full of regret, "nothing. There is a slight swelling of the hippocampus, but not severe enough to explain this. Besides, an injury in the hippocampus would normally only cause slight retrograde memory loss – nothing on this scale." He walked back over to Rodney. "Over here if ya would, lad," and he led him to a hospital bed.
Rodney hesitated, told himself this was different, but he looked for restraints all the same. He took a fortifying breath and got onto the bed, pulling himself up so he was sitting, with a view of the infirmary. Sheppard approached the end of the bed slowly, stopping at the end. "You okay, Rodney?"
Rodney nodded. Carson stepped closer to the bed, grabbing his attention, and he looked at him. "I need to know everything you remember about what happened to you, Rodney. If you prefer we can do this alone." Rodney glanced over his shoulder in time to see Ronon glare at a passerby who was peering in, they quickened their step and passed by. He looked at Teyla, who was standing behind Sheppard, and realised they weren't guarding the doorways against him, as he had suspected, but for him. He looked at Sheppard and knew instinctively that as much as the soldier wanted to know he would leave without a word if he asked him.
"No, it's okay. They can stay." He didn't want to think about this, but he was fed up with not knowing, having to rely on strangers to tell him about himself. With a heavy sigh he turned to Carson, "What do you want to know?"
"To be honest, I have no idea what might be relevant and what might be incidental. It's probably best if you tell me everything you remember, starting with your earliest memory. Before we start though, do you remember when you last ate?"
It threw Rodney a bit, "Erm, I ate this morning?" unsure how this was relevant.
Carson seemed pleased with that, "And you've been eating regularly?"
"Yes," he answered, a little confused as to why they were so worried about his eating habits.
"Okay, start when you're ready, Rodney. Take your time," he nodded for him to start.
"Right." There was a heavy pause. He didn't want to go back to this, wanted to avoid it at all costs, but he needed to know, damn it, and if this is what it took then so be it. He could sense the anticipation in the strangers around him.
He took a deep sigh and began. "To start with I didn't realise that I couldn't remember who I was. I was… distracted." He took a deep sigh, if he was going to do this then he might as well go all in. "I was lying on a bed and held down with multiple restraints. There was a man walking around the bed," he glanced at Ronon, "Milton, the man you killed."
He looked back at Carson, "I tried to talk to him, to ask him what was going on, but he just ignored me. I was about to try shouting when I realised what he was doing. There was this contraption that circled the bed," he vaguely indicated around the bed with his hand using the bed he was sat on as a base. "It housed needles with vials of some green liquid. He was changing the angles of the needles and that's when I realised what was going to happen. I tried to struggle then and… he erm… he told me to stay still. "
He swallowed down the helplessness he had felt and continued. His voice wavered, betraying his emotions, "My body froze on me, I couldn't move at all. He told me to stay still and my body… it listened to him, not me. He moved out of my line of sight so I tried to move my head to follow him, but it wouldn't move. I was trapped inside, unable to do anything but watch. Then I heard the contraption start up and the needles started to penetrate my skin, moving slowly."
He paused, trying to rein in his emotions, as he looked up at Sheppard and saw his face was blank. Because this doesn't affect him, it means nothing to him and why should it? he thought, but the inner voice told him it was because the man was feeling too much. He thought about that as he continued, trying to stand back from the memories, trying to sound clinical and matter of fact about the pain he had endured.
"The needles were positioned to hit only muscle and the penetration was just a sharp pain. The same when they retracted. The man came back into view and stood watching," he audibly swallowed, "and waiting. I was about to try speaking to him again when the pain hit. Every muscle in my body convulsed, vibrating in agony. At that time I didn't think pain could feel like that and not kill you, I thought it had to be the worst pain there was."
He swallowed audibly again as he closed his eyes briefly and everyone seemed to hear the unspoken but I was wrong. He continued barely, his voice growing quieter, half his mind returning, reliving, no matter how he fought against it. "Your whole mind focuses down onto one thing, surviving the pain. I… I don't know if I screamed… don't know how long it went on for. I just knew pain and then it stopped."
He decided the inner voice might have something as he watched Sheppard struggle against his emotions, but he couldn't watch anymore, not with his own struggle becoming harder as the memories became more intense.
He dropped his gaze to his lap as he continued, "It was instant, like a light turning off. To start with you just breathe deep gulping breaths and revel in the fact that you can. Everything feels light as a feather but there's the phantom of pain, a residue of it left in your muscles. I was physically drained at that point, but later when I regained my energy I realised that my muscles were tighter and I was physically stronger than before. The man undid my restraints and took me to a cell. He had no need to fear me; I was still powerless to do anything other than what he asked me to do."
The silence in the infirmary was oppressive. The look on Ronon's face was thunderous, the lines of his body tense. He could see Sheppard's hands gripping the bed frame, his knuckles white and his jaw so tense he wondered it didn't snap. Telya stood behind him, her face forlorn with distress and her eyes brimming with tears. Elizabeth had a hand over her mouth, she reached out to him, but when he tensed she froze and pulled her hand back, wrapping it around her torso. He dropped his eyes to his lap. So long he had wanted to see compassion in Milton's cold eyes and now he had it, it just reminded him how alone he had really been. His heart clenched and he swallowed. "Can we continue this later? I think I just need a little time to recoup. It's been a long day."
**********
Sheppard didn't want to move. He stayed where he was, watching Rodney. Carson stopped by him, putting a hand on his forearm, "John?" he queried softly.
He tensed his jaw before turning to him, "three months, Carson," was all he said. We just got him back, Carson. He's alive Carson, remained unsaid but not unheard. Please don't make me leave, Carson, spoken only with his eyes and the white knuckle hold he still had on the bed frame. Stubbornness screamed from the set of his feet and the rigidness of his frame.
Carson looked up into John's face and as usual looked as if he could see everything inside. This was normally where John looked away, uncomfortable with his emotions but today he let him see because this cost was worth it. Carson nodded, subconsciously patting Sheppard's forearm, and turned back to Rodney, who had been watching the exchange silently.
"Rodney?" he asked gently. "Do you mind if Colonel Sheppard stays with you?" They both watched Rodney turn to look at Sheppard with a slight tilt of his head as he watched thoughtfully and silent.
John stayed still, watching Rodney watch him. Finally Rodney nodded and then dropped his gaze into his lap, not a word said. Not even an eye roll and Sheppard tried not to show how much the lack of either hurt.
Carson moved away to talk to Elizabeth. Sheppard stood watching Rodney and then moved round to sit in the chair between Rodney's bed and the next. He didn't look at Rodney when he moved, but could see him tense in his peripheral vision, could sense Rodney watching him. He sat down and then looked up at him to find Rodney watching, a mix of curiosity and wariness. Sheppard gave a tentative smile, "Hey," he said softly.
He noticed Rodney's eyebrows furrow before he replied with a hesitant, "Hey." Sheppard gave a soft huff of laughter and then smiled. Rodney smiled back, quick and light, and then dropped his gaze again, hands picking at the blankets underneath him. John still wanted to reach out and squeeze an arm just to feel the reality under his fingertips, just to be sure. He was still dealing with the fact that Rodney was alive. Rodney was here and he was alive.
He watched Rodney continually look up to monitor where everybody was, check his surroundings. His eyes like a cornered animal, identifying where the exits were, where the danger was. That did not bother him as much as it should. He figured that would ease with time. It was the silence that ate at him, that made the world seem off.
McKay sitting quietly was like the sun shining at night. He had always thought it was an automatic setting, yet here without his memories the automatic setting seemed to be speak when he had something to say. More like Ronon than Rodney.
He started wondering about Rodney's past, all his neurosis, phobias and rejections. Part of him wondered for a moment if they could hold these memories back, if given the choice should they spare him the more painful memories of his past, but he had seen sides to Rodney that many never had the privilege to know, and knew that without those parts that were born of his past, this man would never be the Rodney McKay he knew and called friend.
There was also the man Atlantis needed, the genius pushing himself harder than anyone else, thinking outside the box. His past made him the man he was today, for good or bad. Sheppard just wanted his friend back the way he was before he died on them, leaving him with nothing except for the pain of loss and anger, so much anger.
Rodney kept looking sideways at him, looking like he was working his way up to saying something. The only time he had seen McKay like this was when he's about to relay some utterly personal and usually embarrassing personal fact, or ask about one.
John just realised that he thinks of the man he knew as McKay and this subdued watered down version in front of him as Rodney. Some part of him thinks it should be the other way round, that your friend should warrant the first name not the stranger, but he's more worried that he's thinking of them as two separate people. Still the same emotional ties, but the way he reacts to them worlds apart.
It occurs to him that everyone is reacting to Rodney differently. They hoped Atlantis would stir his memories, that seeing something familiar would help bring those memories back. He wonders if their emotional reactions are giving him the time and space he needs or are they stalling his recovery.
He had always called him Rodney to calm him, to reach him, but McKay every other time and he figures, what the hell.
"Just ask the question, McKay." he says trying to inflict the normal amount of exasperation into his words.
Rodney flinches and he feels like he just kicked a puppy and he's not sure he can do that again. Rodney tenses and then holds himself up like he does when he's all bluster against the enemy and refuses to back down and John is stuck between being pleased at seeing something so familiar and being sick to the stomach with devastation that Rodney might consider him the enemy.
John can tell that he's on the verge of asking his question when Carson trundles in with a covered trolley. He's immediately forgotten as Rodney focuses on the newest threat, the moving threat. It's not till Carson stills that Rodney regards the tray like a rising cobra. John flicks glances between the two of them, trying to gauge what's coming, trying to second guess how to handle any reaction.
"Now lad," Carson says with a placating hand, "don't panic. If you say no, I'll wheel it right out of here. Now, you told me they injected you and I need to know what drugs are in your system." He pulled back the cloth to show a row of syringes. In an instant McKay had his feet under him, bouncing on his haunches, hands on the bed, ready to push him into action. It was so Rodney and yet so McKay with the emotions flooding his face, his blue eyes as expressive as ever, wide with fear.
"They're empty lad," Carson held one in his open palm, his voice full of guilt for the distress he was causing Rodney. "I won't inject anything into ya, ya have me word. I just want to help Rodney, lad," Carson's voice breaking on the last words, almost a plea with his eyes bright. Rodney looked at the needle as if it were a dagger. Carson looked to him for help.
"McKay, Carson wouldn't harm you. He's trying to help you and in order to do that he needs to do certain things." He knew Rodney was listening to him even though he hadn't taken his eyes off the needle in Carson's hand. There was a slight tilt to his head. "You need to trust us, Rodney," he finished, careful not to make any sharp movements.
On the word trust, Rodney's head flicked round to him incredulous and angry. Sheppard had never been on the receiving end of McKay's glare, but he had witnessed a fair few. Receiving it was totally different. He may not have Superman's laser vision, but, by god, it was close. Intense and hard blue eyes bore into him as the voice of steel spoke softly and dangerously.
"Trust. Colonel? Trust you?" His voice turning incredulous but still angry, so, so angry, "What do you think I've been doing since we met, Colonel? My earliest memories, Hell, at this moment in my life, ALL I've know is betrayal and pain inflicted by others."
His arms entered the conversation, making the anger known, "I have no reason to trust anyone and every reason to trust no one and yet I've followed you here, followed strangers to a place that I can't just up and walk away from because somewhere in here," a hand slapped to his chest, "a voice says it'll be okay and I have to believe that because if I'm wrong…" he stuttered to a halt. Emotions flooded his face, emotions of man on the edge of breaking. He took a breath and his face closed down hard and his voice fell lower, sharper. "Don't talk to me about trust, Colonel."
Silence filled the infirmary. Everyone was watching McKay, who continued to glare. Sheppard could see Ronon had taken a step away from the door, wanting to be nearer, wanting to comfort Rodney, but stopping when he realised he couldn't, that Rodney would never let him get that close. Teyla was behind him, out of sight, but he had no doubt she had done similar.
"I don't know what to say, what to do to make you believe, Rodney." He shrugged, feeling a lump in his throat. Swallowing around it he started again.
"I know what you've told us so far is only the beginning and that you've suffered. I know that, I do, but we're your team, Rodney. We protect you, and when we fail, Carson here fixes you. We would never hurt you and Carson would never quit on you. We're more than a team, McKay, we're friends and I wish I knew the right words to say," he stuttered to a halt.
Taking a ragged breath, he tried again. "I don't know what to say, Rodney, except that you can trust us, as you've always trusted us." His emotions controlled him by the time he was finished and the last words were broken. He hung his head, unable to maintain contact with McKay's intense look.
He saw movement and glanced back up to see Rodney sitting on the bed again with his knees pulled up tight, wrapping an arm around them. As he maintained eye contact with Sheppard he stretched his other arm out to Carson. "Sometimes you can say something without words," McKay said softly. He gave a tight smile and nodded sharply at the Colonel before turning to Carson. "How many of these do you need?"
"Three," Carson said, his energy barely contained. Probably wanting to start before Rodney changed his mind again. His relief was evident.
"Three," Rodney stated. "Why do you want three?"
"I don't know yet. I'm figuring if we find drugs in your system we can use the other vials to test the cure on… and I'm presuming you will only want to do this once."
Rodney nodded and looked down at the crook of his elbow with dogged determination to see this through. As Carson neared his arm it began to tremble. Carson looked up at McKay with such compassion, but Rodney was still looking at his arm in determination, trying to still his body as it betrayed his fears so easily.
Anger flared through his face to be replaced with an abashed expression. "I can't, I can't make it stop," he said, the pain of this admonishment sounding clearly in his voice as he spoke softly. He wouldn't make eye contact, seeming embarrassed by his lack of control.
Carson placed his hand above Rodney's arm, but did not actually make contact. "May I?" he asked. Rodney studied the back of Carson's hand and then flicked his eyes up to Carson's face and back down again.
Sheppard remembered Rodney was restrained during his torture and didn't see how Rodney would be able to deal with both the fear of needles and being restrained, but Rodney just nodded, jerkily, with determination filling his face again, reminding John of his inner strength.
Carson gripped the arm as gently as he could and took the blood, one after the other, smooth and efficient. He placed the last vial back on the tray and turned back to Rodney, "All done."
Rodney looked at his arm curiously, "It didn't hurt."
Carson huffed a laugh, "Well, I am actually pretty good at this, even if I say so myself."
Rodney just nodded, seeming distracted. "I'll be back in a minute, Rodney." Carson trundled the cart away and returned shortly with another covered tray which Rodney scowled at, looking like he was about to rant again. "Don't worry, lad. You'll like this tray," Carson said before peeling back the cover to show McKay's favourite foods.
Sheppard knew it was cruel, but he wished Carson had been slow on the reveal, he could have done with the familiarity of a McKay rant round about now. He watched McKay eat, warily at first but speeding up when he realised he wasn't dying from poison and the food was okay.
Carson spoke while he ate, explaining to McKay why he had to remain in the infirmary till he had the results back. Rodney seemed as if he had expected that, but when Carson told him he would be sleeping where he was, he suddenly became edgy. Sheppard realised that he was finding the idea of sleeping amongst strangers, potentially dangerous strangers in his eyes, very nerve wracking. He could understand that to a certain degree. You were always at your most vulnerable when asleep.
"If we were gonna hurt you we would have done so by now," he said, leaning forward to make eye contact. "You're safe now no-one here will hurt you McKay."
McKay nodded, staring intently at Sheppard.
TBC