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Tired of the Straight Line by akire [Reviews - 153917] 
~#~ He ran down the corridors of the ancient city, breath coming in hard panting gasps, eyes darting from side to side, looking for a way out. But there was never a way out. He should know by now. His chest was burning as he crashed through a high archway and into the railing that separated the city from the sea. He hung over the low, narrow bar, sucking in deep lung-fulls of the salt-laden air. Slowly, the pressure on his chest eased, but no amount of oxygen could relieve him of the sick, roiling sensation that filled his belly. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the images, trying to hold back the tears. A single droplet, as salty as the sea, rolled down his cheek to splash silently into the ocean below. He pushed himself up off the railing, letting his arms take his weight, as he struggled vainly for control. It hasn't happened for so long, he had thought he was normal again. Thought he had left it behind like just another unhappy childhood memory. He thought he was safe. How could he have been so wrong? Rodney turned around on the spot, back pressed hard against the railing, and looked up and across the city. Atlantis. So huge, yet in many ways so microscopically small. He can't run this time. Nowhere left to hide. His knees gave gently, and he slid slowly down until he hit the hard decking. Curling up, he pressed his face into his knees and silently cried. The tears had almost gone by the time John found him, leaving only a nasty, throbbing headache in their wake. "Rodney," the other man said evenly, keeping his distance as he assessed the situation. Rodney sniffed as haughtily as he could, given his stuffed nose and puffy eyes. "Go away, Major." John's tone was maddenly neutral. "Well, I can't do that." Rodney stared at a seam in the decking that ran between his feet. "Did Elizabeth send you?" A rustle of cloth preceded his shadow as John closed the distance between them, sliding onto the deck beside Rodney. Automatically, he shifted along, not stopping until there was a foot of clear air between them. Distance. He'd have to remember that now, constantly. He would always have to keep his distance. He was still close enough to hear John's sigh. He shifted another few centimetres to his left. "Now, you see Rodney, that hurts my feelings." Rodney felt his lips curl into his old, familiar snarl. "It's not your feelings I'm worried about hurting, Major." All sense of playful banter vanished as the seriousness of the situation dropped over both men like a shroud. "Talk to me, McKay. What happened back there?" Rodney hugged his knees closer to his chest. "I fucked up, okay." All his frustrations and fears bubbled to the surface at once, and he automatically lashed out at the nearest target. "I fucked up and nearly killed Zelenka." He snorted bitterly. "That would have been great, wouldn't it? You're already down your best scientist, and he nearly takes your second best out with him." He could John's breathing. Surreptitiously, he shifted another inch to the left. "Zelenka's fine," John finally said. "Beckett checked him over and gave him a clean bill of health. He asked after you, by the way." Rodney refused to fill the pause. John finally sighed again and continued. "Thing is, none of us know exactly what happened. One minute you were trying to use your gene to activate that...thing that you had found. It turned on, Zelenka pushed your hand out of the way and then..." There was another rustle of cloth. Rodney could just picture John's shrug. "He was on the floor and you were running out of there like a bat out of hell." Another rustle, and John's face finally entered Rodney's line of sight. "So, I ask you again. What's going on?" Later on, when he thought about that moment, he couldn't quite pin down why he did what he did. No justification he could make rang true. But once the words were said, they couldn't be taken back or refuted. "I'm a freak, Sheppard." He met the other mans eyes and held them, refusing to let him look away. "I touch people and I see things. I see into their heads, whether they want me to or not. It..." he shuddered. "It hasn't happened in years. I thought it had gone away, but it obviously hadn't." John's face broadcast his confusion. "O-kay..." Rodney was on his knees in a second, pushing into John's space without thinking. "No! It's not okay. Because if Zelenka hadn't let go when he did, I would have killed him! I would have sucked him dry, just like the fucking Wraith. And now you're stuck with me!" John's hand reached up and tried to grip his shoulder, but Rodney convulsed and twisted away from the touch. "Don't fucking touch me!" Staggering to his feet, Rodney bolted for the door and vanished. John stayed on his knees for a long moment. Finally, he too climbed wearily to his feet. Touching his shoulder pocket, he clicked on his microphone. "Weir, this is Sheppard." Her voice crackled tinnily through the tiny earpiece. "Go ahead, Major. Have you found Rodney?" He grimaced. "I did," he said slowly. "But I think we need to regroup. Have Beckett join us in your office?" Not waiting for her answer, he turned and trotted back into the city. ~#~ John leaned against the edge of Elizabeth's desk, eyes fixed on the strange little statue in the other corner, as he listened to Carson's rhythmic voice. "...and so whilst it is rare, it is possible that Rodney can do what he claims he can." Liz's voice spoke up from the other side of the desk, her voice laced with the twin threads of concern and curiousity. "Human mutation, Carson? Manifesting as superhuman or supernatural abilities?" "Aye," Beckett replied patiently. "I admit, I didn't believe myself when I was cleared into the files as part of my genetic research, but there are nearly three hundred cases of successful, radical, human mutation documented in the last twenty years.” The doctors’ hand sketched a graceful arc through the air. “Telepathy, telekinesis, biomorphic changes, the list is nearly endless. In each case, the changes manifested at puberty, usually quite suddenly. And each case is unique. No two mutations are alike, which means that treatment or counselling must be tailored to the individual if it is administered at all." John finally looked up. "So let me see if I've got this straight," he almost drawled. "Rodney has this genetic trick, he's had it since he was a teenager, and knowing what I know about Rodney, he probably didn't get any help with it." He looked at Liz, who was looking over his shoulder. John turned around, sliding neatly onto his feet. Rodney leaned against the doorframe, looking haggard. "My parents thought if they ignored it, it would go away." He smiled humourlessly and stepped fully into the room. "Every time it happened, I was sent to the basement so I couldn't touch anyone else." The smile twisted into something else. "They had it especially sound-proofed so the neighbours couldn't hear my screaming and complain." Elizabeth was on her feet. "Rodney..." He held up his hand, stopping them in their approach. "Please, just...don't." He licked his lips nervously. "It hasn't happened in so long, it was almost like a dream rather than a memory." He paused, not looking at them. "I'm...sorry, what happened. If you give me an hour, I can pack my gear up, leave instructions for the team, find an address that's suitably isolated..." Elizabeth stopped him with a gesture. "Rodney. Look at me, please." She waited until she had his full attention, smiling gently. "We're not your parents'. We're not going to lock you away." John was close enough to make out Rodney's muttered words: "You should." Silently, he added another thing to his mental To Do list, should they ever go back to Earth. Elizabeth was still speaking. "We need you, Rodney. We're not going to shun you. You're our friend and colleague. This..." she waved vaguely towards his clenched hands. "This doesn't change that." She took a step forward, then another, matching Rodney's paces backwards until they had crossed the room and there was no further space. "I'm not afraid of you." He finally met her gaze, eyes cold. "Perhaps you should be, Elizabeth." He sidestepped her neatly, heading for the door. John moved just as quickly, arm stretching out perfectly timed to catch McKay around the chest. He couldn't mistake the sharp intake of breath. It was as if McKay's entire body flinched at the contact. John held on grimly until he finally felt Rodney still. "See," he told him. "Nothing. I'm fine. You're fine. We're fine." Rodney's face was close enough that John could see his irises dilate. "For how long? What happens if the next time you try this I suck you dry like the Wraith?" John refused to let go as Rodney pushed against him. "If you let us help you," he said with exaggerated patience. "Perhaps there won't be a next time." McKay's expression was unforgiving. "You can't guarantee that, Major." John shrugged. "Then we'll deal with it if it happens." Two palms hit him flat on the chest, the surprise more than the force of the blow pushing him back into Liz's desk. The statue rattled dangerously for a moment, but John didn't hear it. "Tell that to Zelenka. Tell that to Casey Johansen. Tell that to whoever it is who I hurt when I freak out again." Another slap against his chest. "Don't you get it? This isn't a game. I can kill people just by touching them. " John looked down to where Rodney's hands were splayed across the front of his shirt. He heard McKay gasp, and the hands were yanked back as if he were on fire. "What are you going to do, Rodney? Hide from the world, shun human contact?" Rodney's posture was stiff. "I've done it before." Before John could react, he was striding across the narrow walkway that linked the office to the control area. Beckett's voice was dry. "Well. That went well." John glanced once at Liz before taking off after the other man. He wasn't going to let him walk away a second time. ~#~ John kept himself between Rodney and the door at all times as Carson conducted his scans. Finally, the doctor allowed McKay to sit up as the results began to flash across the screen. "Well?" he asked testily. Carson's arms folded across his chest as he studied the data. "No physical changes that I can detect. This scan matches perfectly with his last one." He turned to Rodney. "There is nothing here to suggest why your abilities are re-manifesting themselves. Perhaps it isn't a physical change that triggers it?" Rodney jumped to his feet with a thud. "I told you, there isn't a pattern. It comes, it goes. I wish it would go away permanently, but that doesn't look likely now, does it?" He zipped his blue shirt up to his chin with one angry tug. Carson remained unfazed by this display. "Now, lets not be hasty Rodney. Perhaps it is a combination of factors..." McKay cut him off. "No, Carson. It's because I'm a freak." John tuned out their argument. He'd already heard it. In his mind, he turned over all the things they had experienced since coming to Atlantis. One thought kept floating to the surface. "What about the gene therapy?" McKay's voice was curt. "What?" "The gene therapy," John repeated patiently. "Your... thing is genetic, and we've affected your genome by giving you the Ancient gene..." Rodney shook his head angrily. "I don't know." Carson stepped in. "They've so far been unable to identify what particular strands mutate to cause such radical physiological changes. I didn't factor that kind of baseline in when I created the retrovirus. Who knows what effect gene therapy may have in that case..." They could almost see the lightbulb go off over the doctor's head. He stepped quickly over to the scanner console. "Rodney, do you have any sort of trigger, or..." his hands waved through the air as he sought the right words. "Or sensation, or anything, that you associate with your ability. Perhaps a particular thought, or intention, or...anything?" He looked like he was about to baulk again, so John moved to stand beside the scanner bed, blocking him from making another stormy departure. Rodney glared at him, even as he spoke to Carson. "No. Nothing. I touch someone, then it’s like a lightning bolt to the brain and..." He looked away, disgusted with himself. Carson was typing away furiously. "Lightning? So you do have a moment's warning that it’s coming." Rodney's voice was petulant. "Yeah, for all the good it does. So?" He didn't look up from his computer. "That may give us a place to start developing a management regime." Rodney was off the bed, pushing past Sheppard with his elbow. "Management? You can't manage this, Carson. You can't medicate against it, you can't train yourself not to do it! You just have to hold on until it’s over and hope you don't kill anyone this time!" He was through the door to the corridor before they could react. John shook his head. "Damn, he's getting quick at that." "Major," Carson asked quietly. "What did he mean by 'this time'?" John cursed under his breath and once again took off after his errant friend. He caught up with Rodney in his quarters. "You know, this thing you have with running out of rooms halfway through conversations? It's getting real old, real quick." He took a deep breath. "I'm starting to feel like your personal sheepdog." "No one asked you to follow, Major. And I don't seem to recall inviting you in." Rodney was a pathetic sight, curled up on his narrow bed. John pulled up a chair, and made himself comfortable. "Well, you've been even less civil than normal lately, so I decided not to take the chance that you'd say no." Rodney just threw a pillow at him. John caught it deftly and stuffed it behind him. "Thanks." "Go away, John." "Who's Casey Johansen?" Rodney went from horizontal to vertical so fast John blinked. "Who told you that name?" "You did. In Liz's office." He leaned forward slightly. "Rodney? Did something happen when you touched Casey?" Rodney drooped, every line of his body radiating a defeat that John thought he'd never see coming from his friend. "If by 'something' you mean putting her in a coma for a month, then yes, something happened." He looked up. John was pushed backwards by the grief he saw there. "We were thirteen years old. She was the only girl in my entire year who didn't get up and leave when I sat down." He snorted sarcastically. "She actually thought I was funny, and she liked smart. She invited me over to play on her computer one afternoon. I was teaching her how to write codes. I put my hand over hers to point something out." His head drooped. "I'll never forget the noise she made. I thought she was choking. In a way she was - I was choking the life out of her. And all I could do was stare as her entire life unrolled itself in my head." He stood up suddenly, arms clutched protectively around his chest. "I can still feel her, up here." He tapped the side of his temple. "Late at night, when everything is quiet, I feel what its like to be a thirteen year old girl." He bit his lip. "I try to keep busy. Busy keeps all the voices at bay. All the people I've hurt over the years, they're all in my head, watching and waiting." John was mesmerized. "Waiting for what?" "I don't know. And I don't want to know." He turned around again. "I just want it to stop, John." He repeated that like a mantra as John stood up and crossed the room. Carefully, unsure of whether he was doing the right thing, he reached out and touched Rodney's arm. They froze for a moment, waiting, but nothing happened. "We want to help you, Rodney. But you've got to let us." He took a chance. "Don't be afraid of us. We're not afraid of you." Rodney didn't look up for so long that John began to fear that he had misjudged his friend. But then, ever so carefully, Rodney reached out and rested his hand on John's shoulder. He breathed out, slowly, letting go. "Help me, John. Please. Help me." ~#~ "So it really is the Ancient gene?" John looked around the small circle of people. Only Rodney refused to meet his gaze. Carson nodded at Elizabeth, half turning to pull his laptop into view. "It was Dr Zelenka who gave me the idea. He mentioned that they were trying to activate the artefact they had found when Rodney..." "Fucked up." The voice was flat, toneless. "And I am sitting right here, Carson. No need for third person pronouns." Carson had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. As I was saying, when Rodney here tried to use the Ancient gene..." McKay stood up. "I tried for the Ancient gene and tapped my mutation instead." His voice could have etched glass. "So if I just stop trying to use the gene, we'll all be just fine." Liz stepped forward, arms across her chest. "That's your decision to make, Rodney..." He looked down at her. "I hear a 'but' coming." She smiled tightly. "But, as you well know, we need every possible ATA gene carrier we can get. That's why I authorized the use of the gene therapy in the first place." She looked at him beseechingly. "We need you, Rodney." His expression was cold. "No, Elizabeth. You need to keep the members of this expedition safe. We're under enough threat already with the Wraith bearing down on us. You don't need a damned viper in the nest as well." She shook her head. "Rodney, you're not..." He grumped and cut her off. "Metaphor! Not important. What's important is this!" He waved his hands between them, fingers splayed. "Having the Ancient gene was fun while it lasted-" he snorted. "I know I'll be remembering walking into the black cloud of death for many sleepless nights to come. But I don't want anyone else in my head. Period." He turned to leave and smacked straight into Sheppard. "We've talked about this thing you have with walking out of conversations." Grabbing him firmly by the arms, John steered him back towards the high medical pallets. "So why don't you stay with the grownups a while and see what we can figure out." Rodney allowed himself to be guided with bad grace. "It's figured, Major. If I don't use one gene, I won't accidently trigger off the other. Simple." He tried to push past again, and was again intercepted. "Not simple. Or are you forgetting something." Rodney crossed his arms. "It seems fairly straightforward and logical to me. Would you like me to break it down into smaller words for you?" John refused to be baited. "This didn't start after the gene therapy, Rodney. ATA didn't cause it, it's just the way it came back. This time." He stepped back and let his words hang in the air. Carson moved slowly towards Rodney's slumped form. "I'm afraid he's right, Rodney. The Ancient gene just created a new neural pathway for your mutation to manifest." He looked around the small group once before returning his attention to his patient. "I think what happened was that you created a kind of...mental block. Your experiences from when you first began displaying symptoms were sufficiently damaging that your mind… it locked the pathways that made the connection." He craned his head, trying to gauge Rodney's reactions. "It never actually went away, Rodney. You just buried it so deeply that it's taken all this time to rise to the surface again." He didn't lift his head. "So it's back for good this time?" Carson shifted nervously on his feet. "Well, I can't give you any kind of prognosis without..." Rodney jumped to his feet, his face contorted in a barely restrained snarl. "Cut the crap, Carson. It's back, isn't it?" Carson closed his eyes and nodded. "It would seem that way, Rodney, yes. I'm sorry." He exhaled, a harsh sound. "Fuck." Rodney looked around the group once, taking in their expressions. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to storm out now." John opened his mouth to speak, and was cut off. "Try and stop me, Major and I'll...I'll touch you and think of the Ancients." The trio silently watched him go. There was nothing left to say. ~#~ "Do you really think it's a good idea, Major?" John shrugged as he kept pace with Liz down the stairs. "He needs to get out of here, he's going to drive himself crazy staring at the walls." He jumped the last three steps and landed with a muted thump. "You know McKay. He thinks too much. A walk in the fresh air will do him good." "But..." she began slowly. He could see that Liz wanted to be convinced. He was happy to oblige. "I've had Ford going over the records. We've found this nice little temperate planet, a few old ruins that the original survey flagged as interesting. We could go check it out and be back before dinner. Easy." Liz's grin was wry. "I've heard that before, Major. Usually just before the shooting starts." He held up his hand. "We'll avoid the shooting. Scout's honour." The hand dropped in the face of Liz’s expression. "And did Rodney teach you how to smirk like that?" Liz laughed. "Okay, okay. You have a go, Major." Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. "And John. See if you can get him to talk. I think we still don't know the whole story." John tossed her a casual salute, then trotted off to find his team. ~#~ They stepped through the wormhole into a field of long, green grass. The sun was high in the sky, about local noon, and chasing it across the sky like a pale ghost were two small moons. John grinned at the sight, and turned to Rodney. The man was staring at the dirt of the embarkation area. He sighed, hating the feeling of defeat that was beginning to creep over him every time he was with McKay. "Come on," he said. "It's a good twenty minutes to the site. We better get going, make the most of the daylight while we have it." Teyla and Ford confirmed his faith in them by striking out early, putting some distance between the two pairs, staying close enough to be safe but still just out of easy earshot. "So," John began conversationally. He got no further. "Save it, Major. This isn't the McKay therapy hour. This isn't a chance for you to salve your conscience and prove to yourself how enlightened you are. We're a few billion light years from the ACLU and Mutants' Rights, so whatever you were going to say, just don't." "Rodney..." McKay stopped dead. "What, Major? What could you possibly have to say that could make the slightest bit of difference?" He paused, watching John as he stood silently. "Exactly." He turned to resume their hike. John took a deep breath. "You're my best friend, Rodney." The man in front of his stopped dead. Together, they stood still for a moment, before John stepped around to face him. "Somehow, you've become one of the closest friends I've ever had. And it's killing me that I can't help you deal with this." A thousand flickers of emotion raced across Rodney's face before they contorted themselves into a twisted and painful mimicry of his usual sarcasm. "Deal with this? Do you know what this is like? Really like?" He shook his head. "Did you know that babies that are denied skin to skin contact grow slower, develop slower, and seem to be more likely to have more physical and emotional problems than infants who weren't?" He stepped in, his voice dropping lower. "That there is evidence that adults who have limited physical exposure are more prone to a variety of afflictions, from greater susceptibility to common diseases all the way through to premature death." He smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about his expression. "I will never be able to touch anyone without fear ever again. Ever. I have to cut myself off entirely, live life in a bubble. So save your concern, however touching. I don't want it." John reacted purely on instinct. One hand went to the shoulder, the other to the wrist. Before Rodney could react, he slid both hands along until they were touching skin to skin. McKay tried to jerk away, but John just tightened his grip on Rodney’s hand and neck until he settled. He leaned in until their foreheads were almost touching. "The Rodney McKay I know doesn't give up this easily. So I'm going to write off this non-stop pity party as the after effects of getting zapped by Zelenka and forget about it. But you," he said with a tiny shake. "You have got to get over the past and deal with this. With or without my help, I really don't care. We need you back with us." He looked Rodney right in the eye. "I need you. Okay?" Rodney was shaking under his touch, tiny micro-tremors that rippled under the skin. "Okay, okay. Just let me go now, please." As they broke contact, Rodney exhaled, crumpling in slightly. "That was a stupid thing to do." John shrugged and grinned as goofily as he dared. "But effective. I trust I've made my point?" Rodney's reply was cut off by a yell and the stutter of a P-90. As one, they turned and ran towards the noise. ~#~ On reflection, he had to concede that running towards a gunfight wasn't the best plan in the world. But in his own defence, they hadn't so much planned as reacted - if a team-mate was in trouble, you went. It was just what you did. Rodney blinked and turned that thought over in his head, examining it from every angle. It was an interesting concept, and one he didn't even realize he had come to hold dear. And it was certainly better than thinking about the predicament they were in now. All four turned and looked up as booted footsteps thumped towards them. Rodney rolled his eyes as the Genii soldier he had privately labelled 'central casting extra #1' marched into view. "You!" He singled out Rodney with the business end of his weapon. "On your feet." He couldn't help himself. "Say please." The slap was more a warning than a true blow. "Get up! NOW!" He climbed to his feet slowly, his movements made difficult by the tightness of the bonds that held his arms behind his back. In the background, he could hear John asking questions, making a nuisance of himself, trying to draw attention onto him and away from his team. Rodney let his thoughts ramble speculatively, wondering if all officers were taught this, or whether this protective streak was uniquely John's. It wasn't a very productive line of thought, but it was better than wondering what was coming. Under his shirt sleeves, he felt the scar on his forearm begin to itch. As he was marched out of the little grotto created by the ruins, two more guards joined his entourage, each as stereotypically thuggish as the first. He rolled his eyes. "All this just for little old me? I'm flattered." "You've proven yourself to be a very intelligent adversary, Dr McKay. I underestimated you once, I will not do so again." A tall figure detached itself from the shadows and began to circle. Rodney felt the blood drain from his face. "Kolya." He blinked and tried to rally himself. "You're looking good, especially since last time I saw you, you were falling through a wormhole with a few bullets in you." The Genii commander's smile was thin and cruel. "I know why you are here, Dr McKay." He stepped back, beckoning to someone beyond Rodney's line of sight. As a young woman came into view carrying a squat, heavy look box, Kolya continued speaking in that same even, quiet voice. "I have to admit, I didn't expect anything quite so beautiful, though having seen the city, I shouldn't have been surprised. Rodney was barely listening. He was staring at the box as it was opened. The ZPM that was nestled inside seemed to be calling to him, a siren's song. "Where did you find that?" He couldn't help himself, he had to know. Kolya smirked. "Right here, in the ruins." Rodney cursed Bates' and his moronic team under his breath. How could they have missed this? "As a scientist, I'm sure you'd find the site quite intriguing. A room full of Ancient technology in the midst of a..." he spat the words. "Primitive settlement. " He tilted his head, his face too bland. "Of course, we haven't been able to figure out yet exactly what this device was powering. What it does." The smile turned predatory. "But I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out." He nodded at the guards. "Take him in." As he was marched away, he heard Kolya's voice giving orders to the woman. He wouldn't be able to baffle them with his bullshit this time. Perhaps he could stall them until John and the others came up with some brilliant tactical plan and... His jaw dropped as he was pushed under the archway. It was as if he was back on Atlantis - definitely of Ancient design. If he got out of this alive, he was going to have a few quiet words with Bates' team on the topic of observation. A jab in the small of his back snapped him back to the realities of his situation. Obeying the silent command as slowly as he dared, he crept deeper into the Ancient complex. "Where was the ZPM?" The woman glanced at where Kolya was standing, a silhouette framed in the archway. Rodney sighed. "I can't do a damn thing with a dead system." His voice slipped naturally into sarcasm. "I need to see which bits go bing before I can even guess at what it does." He glared at the woman. "Power, please." Unsurprisingly, they refused to let him handle the ZPM directly. But under his curt orders they soon had the ZPM back in place. As power flowed through the system, he moved from console to console, trying to make sense of the Ancient displays. Finally, he sighed and stepped back. "It's no good." Kolya's voice was so neutral he could have been asking about the weather. "What is, Doctor?" He took a deep breath, trying to keep out of his voice the scorn he felt for the men with the guns. "When you pulled the power, the system went into shutdown mode." He could see they weren't understanding the ramifications. "You hit the reset button! I can't do a damn thing until someone reinitializes it." Kolya waved at the consoles. "Then do so, Dr Mckay." He grimaced. "I can't. You need someone with something called an ATA gene." He tried to keep his voice low-key as an idea occurred. "Major Sheppard has the gene, he might be able to do it." Kolya stepped down from the archway and crossed the floor in three steps. "Ah yes, your famous gene, that only your people possess. Your Dr Weir spoke to me of it." He glanced once at the ZPM before returning to Rodney. "I thought she was being arrogant, so I read your files regarding it. And I read that you can give this gene to those who do not possess it." A flicker of a smile. "Like you, for example. You were the test case, as I recall?" Rodney shook his head, thinking fast. "It didn't take." Kolya's hand struck in a blur of motion. Rodney felt his head snap back with enough force to see stars. "Please don't lie, Doctor. You have the gene. You can restart this facility." His tone hadn't changed. Rodney shook his head, blinking hard. Kolya frowned, the looked over his shoulder to henchman number one. "Start with the woman." Rodney winced as his head snapped up again. "What?" Kolya smiled. "Last time, you could hide your friends behind your usefulness. But here? I see no use for Teyla Emmagan." The smile faded. "You should be able to hear her screams if you listen." Rodney felt his breathing speed up. "Wait!" The little flicker of triumph Rodney saw in Kolya's eyes sickened him to his stomach. "Yes, Dr McKay?" He closed his eyes, hating himself for his weakness. "Let me try, first. Who knows, I might be able to get it to reboot in the Ancient equivalent of safe mode." Kolya obviously understood the gist of what he was saying. "Work quickly, Doctor." Rodney waited until the Genii leader retreated back to his position in the archway before turning towards the main console. Ignoring the throbbing ache in his jaw, he took a deep breath and flexed his hands over the console. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and closed his eyes. Slowly, he shut out every distraction, searching for that distant noise in his head that he identified with the presence of Ancient technology. Slowly, straining with the mental effort, he reached out and into the device. Near his left ear, he heard a gasp of noise. "It's working, sir. He's got it!" But his moment of pyrrhic triumph was cut short as the Genii woman grabbed his arm to pull him away from the console. He barely had time to register the feeling of electricity burning up his nerve endings before he was in her head. Her scream seemed to echo forever. ~#~ Rodney ran, struggling to breath through the pressure in his chest and the tears running down his face. His fists felt like they were on fire – he was certain they were bleeding. He crashed into a crumbling stone wall and dropped. In his mind, thoughts that were not his counted down. Three, two…one. He popped up, surprising the guard on patrol. A movement that his mind found instinctual but his body found strange dropped the soldier without a sound. He scooped up the weapon and ran on. Despite never having been to this world before, he found he knew exactly where he was and where he had to go. How he had forgotten what this was like, he didn’t know – probably just another entry on the long list of things he had blocked out for his own sanity. He didn’t check his pace as he ran into the grotto that was serving as a holding area for the rest of his team. The guard on duty swung at him – Rodney ducked even as he recognized the soldier, knew that this was always the way he struck out. He dodged the next blow without thinking, stepped to the left, spun low, and as the soldier toppled brought the butt of the Genii rifle down on his face. Physically spent, reeling from the chaotic storm that was ranging in his brain, he collapsed onto all fours. “Rodney? McKay? Doctor?” Three familiar/unfamiliar voices called to him. He panted heavily. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He sucked in deep gulps of air and willed the floor to stop spinning. A shuffle, a thump, and a body moved into his peripheral vision. “Rodney? Focus on me. Come on, that’s it.” Slowly, Rodney lifted his head and found John’s face. “That’s it. Have you got a knife? Anything to cut these bindings?” With shaking fingers, he produced a small Genii knife and worked it into bonds that tied John’s hands together. Sawing as quickly as he dared, the thin straps finally snapped. Rodney rolled onto his side, half-curled up, as John snatched up the blade and released the rest of his team. Rodney drifted until he felt something poking him in the shoulder. He opened his eyes to find John crouched over him, poking him carefully with the handle of the blade. "Come on, McKay, time to go home. Can you run?" He levered himself into sitting position, grateful when the room slowly span down into stability. "There's a creek down along the east side of the ruins. If we go that way, we'll avoid most of the Genii patrols between here and the Gate." Ignoring Teyla's outstretched hand, he climbed painfully to his feet. Ford was asking a question, but John waved him down. "You heard him, the creek. Ford, take point. Teyla, cover our six." Dropping his voice, he leaned in slightly. "Can you hold on yet?" Rodney shook his head. "Bubble time, Major." Not looking back, he followed Aiden out the door. The trip to the Gate passed in a blur of grass and dirt and stone and concerned looks. Rodney ignored it all, and focussed on putting one foot in front of the other. In his mind, the new voice flittered around, throwing up random images and noises that he had to work to ignore. The disorientation of the wormhole was almost enough to make him pass out. He staggered out of the event horizon and toppled onto the hard floor of the gateroom. As his world faded to black, he heard John calling for Carson as he hovered above him like a protective angel. ~#~ He awoke to the dimly lit quiet of the infirmary. Blinking heavily against sleep-encrusted eyes, he looked around, trying to reorientate himself. Slumped in a chair dragged over to his bed, John lay with his head rested on folded arms. As if aware of the scrutiny, he slowly lifted his head and looked blearily at Rodney. "You look like shit, Major." John grinned slowly, looking impossibly young with his hair pointing every which way. "Likewise." Yawning, he lifted his arms and stretched in his seat. "How are you feeling?" Rodney took mental stock of himself. "Better, I think." "Want to talk about what happened?" "Not particularly, but I guess I'll have to." He frowned. "The Genii found a ZPM in the ruins. I should have grabbed it." John shook his head. "No time. Don't beat yourself up over it." He shifted slightly in place, obviously looking for the right words. "About the Genii...what actually happened?" He sighed. "One of them touched me." "I kinda gathered that." Rodney glared half-heartedly at him. "She was an officer. She had organized the patrols, and they were fresh in her mind." John was nodding slowly. "And what she knows, you know, huh?" "Pretty much." He avoided Rodney's eyes. "Pick up anything else of interest while you were in there?" "Bits and pieces," he said with a sigh. "Most of it is fading now, but if you get me my laptop I can write down what I still remember." John stood up, and patted his arm through the blanket. Rodney did his best not to flinch. "It can wait. Get some rest, okay." He watched John stroll out of the Infirmary before resettling himself, thinking more about what was unsaid. His curse had given them a tactical advantage, something they had in short supply these days. If he could learn to control it, harness it... Rodney smiled at nothing. He would ask his friends' opinion in the morning. For the first time in weeks, he slept peacefully. |
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