Work Text:
Rodney walked through the Stargate jubilantly, despite the cuts and scrapes scattered across his aching arms, and the two-inch gash above his ear. Stepping onto Atlantis, he held his prize aloft triumphantly and reveled in the gasps and exclamations it incited. He considered this one of his team's crowning achievements. Not only had they found a ZedPM (albeit a nearly-drained one), he'd managed to recharge it before the crumbling Ancient outpost fully collapsed.
As far as he was concerned, a few minor burns and a bit of hair loss were a small price to pay. Anyway, the shrapnel from the exploding Ancient equipment wasn't solely to blame. Sheppard tackling him when the machine malfunctioned – and then manhandling him all the way to the gate – had played their part, too.
“Rodney? Is that-” Elizabeth covered her mouth, as if saying it aloud would break the spell and make it vanish.
“Yep! It’s-” Sheppard knocked into his shoulder as he stalked past. Rodney cradled the ZedPM protectively to his chest and watched him stomp out of the gate room. "It’s fully charged, too.”
“Doctor McKay was very brave,” Teyla said.
“Or very stupid,” Ronon grumbled, following Sheppard towards Medical.
“Brave!” Rodney called after him. It didn't always take a gun or a knife to be brave, he thought smugly.
Elizabeth started down the stairs, keeping her eyes on Rodney. “Whatever the case may be, drop the ZPM off with Radek, and go get your med check.” She paused at the last step, before beaming like a kid on Christmas morning and holding out her arms. “On second thought.”
“You break it, you bought it,” Rodney teased as he handed it over.
“I’ll take good care of it,” Elizabeth promised. She turned toward the labs and was instantly surrounded by a crowd, all of them anxious to get a good look. Rodney watched the impromptu parade until they disappeared around a corner.
“Well, then,” he said, clapping his hands to stop them from twitching after the module. He looked around and realized that Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard were probably already in the infirmary. “Okay,” he said to no one in particular, and then took off in that direction himself.
Rodney was greeted by the stinging smell of strong antiseptics and a host of blinking, beeping machines monitoring a ward full of patients. Biro pointed him towards a nearby privacy curtain, and he ducked inside. Once again, he was nearly knocked down by a John Sheppard exiting in high dungeon.
“What's with him?” Rodney asked, taking a seat next to Teyla. He rolled up his sleeve, looking away as a nurse approached brandishing a needle and two vials.
“I believe you should take that up with the Colonel,” Teyla said. “He seemed quite upset.”
Looking at her, Rodney felt a flash of envy. Most people would look silly holding a cotton ball in the crook of their elbow, but Teyla just exuded power and serenity. The cool sensation of the alcohol wipe against his arm derailed that thought and prompted an instinctive flinch.
“Upset about what, exactly?” Rodney breathed in through his nose and out his mouth to help offset the pinch of the needle. Blood draws might be part of the routine on Atlantis, that didn’t mean he liked them. “He should be happy. I mean, we have a second ZPM.” Once the needle was withdrawn, Rodney held the cotton ball firmly against his often-abused vein. “I’m so giddy, I'm not even yelling at Madders here for digging in my arm like he's planting corn.”
The nurse gave Rodney a disgusted look before faking a smile and applying an adhesive bandage. “It’s Matternson, Doctor.” He turned to Biro as she entered. “I’ll run these up to the chem lab, Doc.”
“Thanks, Danny,” Biro replied. Matternson disappeared into the bustling infirmary, and Biro gestured for Teyla to follow her.
Rodney raised the hand of his non-perforated arm. “Can I go next? I'd like to start working on-”
“It is fine, Doctor McKay,” Teyla said. “I know you have much to look forward to with your new equipment.”
Rodney got to his feet, but Teyla put a hand on his shoulder. “Doctor McKay?”
“Yes?” Rodney replied, barely hiding his impatience.
Teyla's dark eyes searched Rodney’s for a long moment. She tightened her grip and waited until Rodney gave her his full attention. “Please speak with John before the day is out.”
Teyla’s use of Sheppard's first name gave Rodney pause. She only did so in the most personal (or deadly) of situations.
“Yeah, sure, okay.” When Teyla cocked one eyebrow menacingly, he hastily added, “I swear, I’ll find him. Promise.” He did a halfhearted ‘cross-my-heart' gesture that made Teyla roll her eyes.
“Very well,” she said, releasing him.
~*~*~
Unfortunately, as soon as the local was administered and the first stitch tied off, Rodney’s thoughts were full of the ZedPM that was undoubtedly being manhandled by his subordinates right now.
~*~*~
Rodney made his way to the central lab that he shared with Radek, and Miko. Exhausting as their off-world excursion had been, his energy levels soared at the sight of the ZedPM glowing in the middle of the workstation. He swooped in and grabbed it up. “You haven't plugged it in yet? You've checked it? Processed it? Cleaned the connectors in the ZedPM hub?”
“Yes, yes,” Radek said, gesturing at the room that housed the ZPM hub. “Miko and I were waiting for you to do the honors.”
Rodney looked at Miko to confirm, grinning when she nodded in agreement. Once in the main power room, they checked (and then double- and triple-checked) each and every energy level Atlantis reported before finally plugging the ZPM in next to the half-full one.
The results were a little anti-climactic. Sure, the radio spewed chatter as a few new systems were reported online. But Rodney was a tiny bit disappointed that his big discovery hadn't restored Atlantis to her original state. Then he considered that she was now better able to protect herself against attacks, whether Wraith or Genii, and counted it a win.
The trio monitored systems and made sure Atlantis could maintain her power levels after being starved for so long. Running all the checks took hours, but whenever Rodney reached for coffee to restore his flagging energy, it was somehow always hot and fresh. He attributed it to the many people who'd stopped in to congratulate them – more visitors than the lab usually got in a month – leaving coffee and snacks to they could keep working.
~*~*~
It was several hours past dinnertime when Rodney realized that his stomach ached for something more substantial than a powerbar.
"Hey, Radek, Miko."
Getting no response, he looked up from his keyboard. Radek was nowhere to be seen, and Miko was all but asleep in her chair. Eyes closed and chin on her chest, though her fingers were still perched on the keyboard. He closed his laptop and stood up with a groan, stretching to loosen up his stiffened muscles.
Rodney cracked his neck as he walked over, then patted Miko on the arm. “What’s say we call it a night? Get a good night’s sleep, because we’ve got another full day tomorrow.”
“Hai,” Miko responded. She yawned, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes as she stumbled into the hallway, leaving Rodney alone with his ever-racing thoughts.
Rodney checked the ZedPM room to verify that everything was buttoned up to his satisfaction before heading out into the sleeping city. He stopped by the Mess and grabbed a not-quite-turkey sandwich and a bag of chips. In his exhaustion, he only managed to wrestle the stubborn plastic wrap off as he stepped into his darkened quarters.
Cling film flung into to some shadowed corner, Rodney toed off his shoes and held the sandwich in his mouth as he unzipped his shirt. He threw it towards the chair next to his bed, only then registering someone sitting there.
“Rodney,” the figure drawled, plucking the shirt off his head and dropping it on the floor.
Even muted, Sheppard’s icy tone stopped Rodney in his tracks. His jaw dropped open in shock, resulting in his hard-won sandwich plopping directly into his left shoe.
“Jesus Christ, Sheppard!” Rodney yelled, hands instinctively covering his chest for some reason. “What the hell?”
“That’s what I’d like to know, Rodney. What the hell?”
Rodney went to his makeshift dresser to give himself a moment. He grabbed his favorite t-shirt, so old that all remained of the snarky saying were a few random squiggles. The wash-worn cotton felt smooth against his skin as he pulled it on and turned around. Sheppard's face was eclipsed in shadow, but the stiff line of his shoulders and the impression his spine was doing of a ramrod revealed his tension to Rodney as clearly as if he was screaming it aloud.
After what felt like a year's worth of silence, Rodney said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
John Sheppard sprang out of the chair like a furious jack-in-the-box. He stalked – there was no other word for it – silently across the floor until he was a hairsbreadth from Rodney, his usually indulgent hazel eyes as hard as diamonds. Combined with his cat-like approach, they made Rodney felt like prey. He’d never been afraid of Sheppard, even when he turned into a bug, but this nearly paralyzed him.
“You could have died today, Rodney.”
Rodney started to roll his eyes, but stopped when Sheppard loomed even closer.
“I almost die every day, Colonel,” he quipped, trying to ease the tension.
“No, Rodney,” John said, intensely. “You could have died today.”
“Okay, I get it. I’ll be more care-”
“I don’t think you do fucking get it, Rodney,” John said, poking him in the chest. “I know you know how to fire your sidearm, and that you will if you have to. But you need to listen when I tell you a situation isn't safe! It’s my job to protect you. Mine, and Teyla’s, and Ronon’s.” Each name accompanied by a jab. “We are expendable, Rodney. You are not!”
“That’s bullshit,” Rodney took a step back. The tension ratcheted up as Sheppard followed, crowding him against the dresser. The mental list Rodney was compiling of why his team was just as important as him sputtered like a raindrop on a sunbaked tin roof when he caught the look in John's eyes. “Sheppard?”
Sheppard dropped his gaze, sighing deeply. “Don't you know what you mean to us, Rodney?” Then, in a strained whisper, “To me?”
Those two words struck at Rodney’s heart, and it took a moment to regain his breath.
“John?” Rodney reached for John’s shoulder before changing his mind and cupping the back of his neck instead. John looked at him in surprise, eyes brightening and a small, hopeful smile starting to grow. Rodney searched for words to explain years of being oblivious, but could only say, “I’m sorry.”
Rodney shivered as fingertips delicately skimmed the shorn area around his stitches, and leaned into John’s hand when it settled on his cheek.
“You mean everything to me,” John whispered as his lips ghosted over Rodney’s.
Rodney suddenly realized two things: a John Sheppard-sized hole in his life had been filled, and that would change everything for the better.