The Webworld Stargate

Scrooge's Life, Bailey's Carol
A Stargate Atlantis Fanfic by
Wolfen Moondaughter

Rating: PG-13
Pairings: McShep
Genres: Friendship, Angst, Romance, Pre-Slash (which turns to Slash by the end, though not at all graphic), Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Apocalyptic Scenes (May squick!)
Summary: Rodney is visited by spirits at Christmastime, but their intent is a bit more malevolent than Ebenezer Scrooge's ghosts or George Bailey's angel ....
Spoilers: through "This Mortal Coil". Also, spoliers for the film It's a Wonderful Life and the story A Christmas Carol. Knowlege of both would be very helpful for your enjoyment, but is not strictly necessary.
Length: 4 chapters + Epilogue -- 17,566 words (around 38 pages).
Notes: AU after the events in "THis Mortal Coil". Oy! I'm a pagan writing about Christmas -- what the hell am I doing?? LOL! ;) Well, I can't help it, I've always loved the two stories that inspired this work ....
Feedback: You may post feedback to this fic either at LiveJournal, Wraithbait, or by .

Jump to Chapter: 2 / 3 / 4 / Epilogue

~ Chapter One: Jacob Marley meets Clarence? ~

Rodney massaged the back of his neck with his left hand while his right typed out a few more numbers. Then he hit backspace, erasing those numbers. Then he began typing anew -- and once again erased what he'd typed. He reached out for his coffee cup and took a swig, only grimacing slightly when he realised it was stone cold. He wondered if the cold had some sort of nulling effect on the caffeine -- he was growing more and more tired by the second!

"Here," someone told him, and a steaming mug came into view. It wasn't until he was swallowing the hot liquid that he realised something was seriously wrong with the taste. "What the hell is this, decaf??" he asked the coffee-bearer, scowling at the mug.

"It's called 'hot chocolate', Rodney! I thought you liked it!"

"Oh." Rodney took another swig. He scrunched his nose. It didn't taste like cocoa, either! "Is it sugar-free or something?"

John Sheppard straddled the chair next to his. "Well, okay, it's not really hot chocolate, it's that carob stuff. Or the Athosian equivalent, anyway."

Rodney gave him a level look. "And you thought I would enjoy this because ...?"

"I didn't, actually; I just didn't want to suffer alone," Sheppard deadpanned, taking a swig from his own mug.

"And you're drinking it because ...?"

"I didn’t want to hurt Teyla's feelings."

"Oh." Rodney took another swig. "Whipped cream?" he asked, hopeful.

"Tried to steal some from the mess; turns out Ronon beat me to it and finished it off. The only stuff left was in his goatee."

"So he had a white beard, huh? Then I'm going to call him 'Santa' next time I see him," Rodney muttered darkly.

John snorted into his mug. "You feeling suicidal?"

Rodney sighed heavily, rubbing his neck again. "Yes, if it means I get out of trying to fix this code."

"So take a break, Rodney!" John insisted, throwing his hands into the air. "Ten minutes isn't going to make a difference!"

"It takes less than ten minutes for the Replicators to wipe out the population of an entire planet," Rodney quietly pointed out to the colonel, typing out another line in the meantime.

Sheppard was silent for so long after that, Rodney had almost managed to forget that the man was even there. Then, "It wasn't your fault, Rodney. How long are you going to shoulder the blame?"

After an equally long moment, Rodney asked, "And who else will, Colonel? Regardless of intent, my actions led to this." The colonel started to say something, but Rodney cut him off. "Even if it wasn't my fault, should I just let everyone die without doing the best I can? If a ten-minute break means another billion people could die, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I can rest when this is all over," he finished tiredly.

"And how much good can you do if you work yourself into a stupor?" Sheppard protested. "What kind of headway are you going to make if you don’t step back every now and then and get a fresh perspective?"

Rodney wanted to give him an angry retort, he really did, but, as if to prove Sheppard's point, he couldn't think of one. He sighed. "Fine." He saved his worked and stood up. He caught the colonel's grin out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t have the strength to match it, not even a little.

When they got out into the hall, he at least managed a "Good night" as he turned in the direction of his quarters. He heard Sheppard's hurried steps to catch up with him.

"Where ya goin'? The mess is that way!" Sheppard asked in his whiny drawl.

Rodney stopped, sighing again. "To bed," he answered curtly, turning to look Sheppard in the eye. "If I'm not going to work on the code, then I might as well put the time to good use."

Sheppard eyed him for a long moment before giving a slight nod and laying a hand on his shoulder. "Sleep well, buddy." He gave Rodney's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

If the man's fingers lingered at all as he let go, dragging his hand lightly across the fabric, Rodney didn't notice. The scientist turned and resumed his journey to his quarters, knowing full well that his mind was too full of worry to sleep easily, no matter how tired his body.

~ * @ * ~

John watched Rodney depart, brow furrowed in concern. He removed the reindeer antlers from his head, wondering if his friend had even noticed them.

Sheppard had intended to get Rodney into the mess hall, where there were sugar cookies, pies, and other holiday treats, and everyone was signing carols. (One of them was a "filk" about Rodney, put to the tune of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen"*. John had been dying to see the man's face when they sang it to him -- although John wished they would leave out the line about himself being "Kirk" ....) As it was, though, the dark circles under the astrophysicist's eyes stayed John's tongue. The man needed sleep, no doubt; John wasn't about to deny him that. Besides, the actual gift exchange wasn't for about four days yet: if Rodney still wouldn’t take a break by then, John was fully prepared to make it an order.

Thing was, Rodney wasn't wrong; billions of lives were depending on his fixing the code. Not that John blamed Rodney for what happened; he couldn’t deny that reprogramming the Replicators had seemed like a good idea at the time. John had seen and read far too many sci-fi stories like this, where a vindictive wish-granter made a wish come true in the worst way possible. In this case, the Replicators were the djinns, and the wish had been for them to destroy the Wraith; who would have guessed that the Replicators would come up with killing humans as a means of fulfilling that wish?

No, John didn’t blame Rodney, but he understood what it was like to blame one's self. There was no way on earth John could have known that killing that Wraith female, so long ago, would wake the whole damn species up and endanger the lives of billions either, but that didn’t really alleviate the guilt John felt. And Rodney wouldn't even be in his current predicament if the Wraith hadn't been woken up in the first place! John sincerely wished there was some way he could help the man now. Seeing Rodney like this ... the weight of a galaxy on his shoulders, all his bluster and ego deflated, all the light gone from his eyes ... it was more than John could bear, knowing he had played a part in bringing his friend to that state, and knowing there was nothing he could do himself to fix it. The best John could do was check on the workaholic often, make sure he ate and slept regularly.

No longer hungry or feeling particularly sociable himself, John went back to his own quarters.

~ * @ * ~

Having finished brushing his teeth (and failing to expel the taste of the pseudo-carob from his mouth), Rodney wiped his mouth on a towel and turned to leave the bathroom. He paused, having the distinct feeling he'd seen something other than himself in the mirror. Reluctantly, pulse pounding with foreboding, he turned to the silvery surface.

He screamed like a girl.

"Jesus, McKay, you're going to break the glass!" the decimated face of Brendan Gall** informed him.

Rodney looked at the wall, where the reflection of Gall said he was standing and saw -- nothing. Unfortunately, when he turned back to the mirror, Gall was still very much visible.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," Gall began.

Rodney didn't give him a chance to finish, hurrying out of the bathroom, fully intent on leaving his quarters altogether.

Brendan Gall's ghost had other plans.

It was entirely probable that Rodney's next scream, as he discovered Gall waiting in the hall when he opened the door, would have indeed shattered the mirror, if he'd still been in the bathroom. As it was, the scream only drew the attention of a couple of tipsy revelers that were making their way down the hall. Rodney then pointed to Gall and cried out, "You're dead!"*** He saw his underlings, Simpson and Miko, stare at him in horror just before he slammed his door shut. He wondered belatedly if they could see Gall too, but wasn't willing to open the door again to find out.

Unfortunately, when Rodney turned towards the room's center, he found Gall standing behind him. It goes without saying that he screamed, but this time he assumed that only dogs and ghosts could hear him, because he couldn’t hear himself.

"Please stop doing that!" Gall begged, fingers pressed to his ears.

"W-what do you want?" Rodney asked, having decided he wasn't going to escape the apparition, and hoping to placate it somehow instead.

"What?" Gall asked, fingers still pressed to his ears.

Hesistant, Rodney reached out to pull Gall's arms down. His fingers went through the limbs, causing the image to swirl momentarily, like smoke. His fingers now ached with cold.

"Oh!" Gall said, putting his arms down. "Sorry. So, um, I guess I'm supposed to tell you that you're going to be visited by three spirits or something."

Rodney's fear instantly evaporated in favour of confusion. "Come again?"

"No, it will be three other spirits," Gall assured him.

It took Rodney a full 1.47 seconds to realise what Gall was saying. "No, I didn’t mean will you come again, I mean -- oh, never mind, you answered the question anyway. Now tell me why I'm getting the Christmas Carol routine," he demanded, crossing his arms over his "I'm with Genius" t-shirt. He then half-uncrossed them, in order to snap his fingers. "You're a hallucination! I have a history of this, you know," he added, pacing. "I haven't bumped my head recently, so what brought you on? Oh, I know! The carob! I bet I'm allergic! I'm really on the bathroom floor, suffocating from anaphylactic shock, aren't I?" He looked in the bathroom, expecting to find himself sprawled there and turning blue, but found nothing.

"Sorry, pal, but no, I'm real. Well, sort of; I'm not your imagination, anyway," Gall insisted. "And to answer your question -- if you'll let me -- you're not getting the Scrooge treatment."

Rodney scowled. "What? Of course I am! A dead colleague shows up three days before Christmas -- when I'm not exactly feeling cheery, I should stress -- and tells me I'm to be visited by three spirits; what else would it be?"

"Except for a key difference," Gall remarked.

"You mean that, while I'm miserable, I'm not a miser? Yeah, that fact hadn’t exactly escaped me. So again, why am I getting the Christmas Carol reenactment?"

The smile Brendan gave him sent a cold shiver down his spine. "Yes, that's exactly the difference I mean," Gall assured him. "Let me put it to you this way: would I be here now, like this, if it wasn't for you? If you hadn't insisted on visiting that fallen hive ship?"

Not long ago, Rodney would have tried to deny that it was his fault, or at least have tried to split the blame with Sheppard, who had wanted to see the ship up close just as much as he had. Now he braced himself against the threatening tears and looked the apparition in the eye. "No. You wouldn't. And I know I'll never be able to make up for it, but ... for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Gall seemed taken aback by the apology, eyeing him speculatively. After a long moment, he said thoughtfully, "Then let me give you another hint: this will be as much a George Bailey scenario as Ebenezer Scrooge one, and yet the intent will be nothing like either of them." And just like that, Gall was gone, no fade-out, no pop of warning. Nothing but a message, whispered in his ear, after: "You have been warned."

And the world went dark.

(* "Gods Rest Ye Merry Stargate Folk" is a song I wrote this past holiday season. David Hewlett himself faved it over at youtube! *grin* ...

** Brendan Gall was fed upon by a Wraith in the first season ep "The Defiant One", and shot himself.

*** Inspired by a scene in David Hewlett's film, A Dog's Breakfast.)

~ Chapter Two: The Ghost of Past Mistakes ~

"Geez, Rodney, I thought you were going to get some sleep!" John chided as McKay plopped down in the chair opposite him, next to Ronon. Rodney's hair was in even worse disarray than it had generally come to be in recent months, worse even than Zelenka's. The bags under his eyes were so dark and puffy, he looked like he'd been punched twice.

"I did sleep," Rodney croaked. "I ... I had the weirdest dream -- and then I woke up on the floor this morning. My back is killing me," he finished dully, the complaint having none of its usual vigor.

"Maybe you should go back to bed," Teyla urged him, laying a hand on the man's forearm for emphasis.

Ronon nodded his agreement, face drawn in concern, for once keeping his penchant for ribbing the cranky scientist in check

Rodney shook his head stubbornly. "It's not like it helped last night, and I have work to do."

"It didn't help last night because you slept on the floor!" John protested. "And how did you get there, anyway? Did you roll off the bed?"

"I ..." Rodney seemed to think better of what he was going to say, mouth snapping shut as he picked at his food idly with his fork.

John was about to pull rank and order Rodney to give him an explanation, when Chuck's voice came over the radio, announcing that Lorne's team was coming in hot. Abandoning their breakfast, John's own team hurried down to the 'Gateroom.

It turned out that a world they were helping had been attacked by the Replicators. Lorne's 'jumper held about fifteen refugees; the rest of the people were presumed dead. Upon hearing the news, Rodney had grown deathly pale -- well, more so than he was already -- and hurried out of the room. John would have gone after him, but, being head of the Military in Atlantis, he had a duty to discuss the matter with Carter and Lorne, what actions they needed to take for the safety of Atlantis, and what -- if anything -- they might do for the people of the world that was destroyed.

Although frankly, he wasn't much help, fretting over the well-being of a certain astrophysicist the whole while. Even so, it took all day to sort through reports and paperwork over the incident, and then he had other work to do. By the time he was ready to check on Rodney that night, the man had already left the lab, complaining of a massive headache, or so the relieved science team had informed the colonel.

~ * @ * ~

"You're late," Carson said from his place on Rodney's bed, where he lay thumbing through one of Sheppard's comic books.

Rodney might have wondered how the comic had gotten there if he hadn't been so startled by the appearance of the man holding it.

For a full three seconds, Rodney thought his friend had returned, that everything that had happened over the past few months had just been a horrible, horrible nightmare. For another half-second, he thought Carson was a Replicator, and then an evil dream-world doppelganger. Finally, he remembered the strange events of the night before. Unfortunately, that final realisation didn't really negate the prior two; he said as much so the apparition on his bed.

"Doesn't really matter much to me what you believe, Rodney," Carson told him. "I'm here to show you things that have gone before; it's up to you what you make of it all. Now take my hand."

Rodney scowled and crossed his arms mulishly. "No."

"Oh, bloody -- fine," Carson said, grabbing the man's arm.

And just like that, they were in Rodney's childhood home. A seven-year-old Rodney was sitting on the floor with his baby sister, opening presents by the Christmas tree.

"You could have at least let me brush my teeth," the adult Rodney complained. Teyla had given him another mug of the Athosian-carob and sat with him, making sure he drank it to keep up his strength.

"Shut up and watch, already!" Carson insisted, rewinding the scene a moment, then letting it start anew.

"Oh," little Rodney -- or rather, Meredith -- said upon opening a toy.

"Oh? Oh?" his father mocked. "Do you have any idea how much driving around I had to do to find that thing, and all you can say is 'oh'? What the hell is wrong with it, you little jerk?"

"Nothing!" Mer quickly said, a look of panic on his face. "I love it; thank you!" Of course it was obvious the child was only trying to placate the dragon in the living room.

"Goddammit, Mer, don't lie! What's the problem?"

"Uh ... it's just ... Gramma gave me this yesterday."

And of course this confession led to a screaming fight between his parents about his maternal grandmother. His father eventually stormed out of the house. His mother ignored Jeannie's cries, plopping down in the chair closest to Mer, eyes screwed tight against what the adult Rodney now realised was probably a migraine.

"God, Mer." Her voice was barely audible, defeated. "You couldn’t have just been grateful, could you? Selfish little brat -- why do you have to ruin everything all the time? You had to go and be such a persistent little Y-chromosome, didn’t you? If I hadn't gotten pregnant, I could have seen what a bastard that man was before it was too late, married someone else. Oh god, how I wish you'd never been born."

The adult Rodney swallowed back tears, surprised at how the words affected him now. It wasn't the first time he'd heard them, nor the last; by the time he was eight, the words just rolled off him, like nothing. The slightest little mistake would set his father off, and sometimes his mother, too.

The scene changed. It was a few years later, and his parents were having a Christmas dinner party. Young Mer was down in the mouth, it seemed. His mother, apparently oblivious to her son's state of mind, asked her son to play some carols on the piano for her guests. Mer pleaded with her not to make him.

The adult Rodney remembered this: it wasn't too long after his music teacher had crushed his dream of becoming a concert pianist by telling him that, while he was an accomplished clinical player, he had no sense of the art.

His mother got angry. He played. His self-confidence shot, he did badly, which upset his mother, who yelled at him in front of everyone. Embarrassed, he bolted for his room. His father hadn't ever wanted him to play in the first place; his parents got into a row in front of their guests, and of course blamed Mer later for the debacle their evening had become. And it certainly didn't help that the expensive black baby grand piano with ivory keys had become a proverbial white elephant in their living room.

The scene changed again. Another year, another Christmas dinner party. Mer spied on his father and his friends in the den. His father, who had gone ballistic when Mer had made a bomb as his science project, causing him to be put under a government investigation, was now bragging about his son's genius in that regard to those friends.

The adult Rodney remembered the pride he had felt then; it was the first time he recalled ever hearing approval in his father's voice with regard to himself. Now, though, the man's words made him ill. Now he saw his father for the borderline-schizophrenic head-case the man really was.

Apparently that wasn't what he was supposed to be seeing, though.

"If you hadn't been such a screw-up in general," Carson began, "you wouldn’t have done such a dangerous thing to win his approval -- or gone on to do other dangerous things afterwards. Then you might never have become an astrophysicist or become such a big blip on the government radar. And then you would never have come to Pegasus, to wreak havoc here ...."

Rodney stared at his friend. "Wreak havoc?"

"Five-sixths of a solar system ring a bell, Rodney?"

"Uninhabited!" Rodney protested.

"Thankfully," Carson said. "But that doesn't mean its destruction didn’t have disastrous consequences for someone. But I’ll leave that to your visitor tomorrow to explain."

A blink later, they were in the lab in Antarctica, looking at slightly younger versions of themselves.

The younger Carson was protesting being made to sit in the Ancient Chair, while Rodney was pressuring him to visualize the solar system. Carson accidentally launched a drone, which very nearly killed Sheppard and O'Neill.

"Hm. I liked that sweater; it looks really good on me! I wonder what happened to it ..."

"Isn't that just typical of you? I show you a pivotal moment in your life, and all you can do is think about your vanity!"

Rodney stared at Carson, stung. "What has any of this to do with Christmas, anyway?" he finally asked.

"Nothing at all," Carson told him. "What made you think it would -- aside from the fact that it's natural for you to jump to conclusions, I mean?

"Well, the other scenes did! Aren't you supposed to be the Ghost of Christmas Past?"

"I never said I was, lad," Carson said, shrugging. "And not every bad thing you've done happened at Christmas, Rodney."

"Bad thing? Wha--is that what this is all about? Some sort of ... clip show of all the ways I've screwed up?" Damn, even Scrooge got shown happier days first!

"More or less. Interesting, isn't it?" Carson went on over Rodney's protest, gesturing to the scene before them.

"What is?" Rodney asked blankly.

"Well, if yeh hadn't pressured me about being in the chair, I wouldnae have nearly shot down Sheppard's helicopter, would I? And O'Neill wouldnae have given Sheppard security clearance as a reward, which means Sheppard wouldnae have sat in the Chair himself and discovered that he has the ATA gene. He wouldnae have been sent to Atlantis, and wouldnae have woken the Wraith."

"... What's your point?" Rodney asked, baffled.

Carson rolled his eyes. "That if not for you, the people of Pegasus wouldnae be fighting for their lives right now, ya daft bugger!"

"What? That's ridiculous! Even if he hadn't sat in the Chair, Sheppard could have been brought along for some other reason, o-or someone else could have woken the Wraith up!"

Carson snorted. "Yeah, like you, maybe!"

Rodney stared at the man, shocked to hear him speak like that; he was so thrown, he failed to notice at first that the scene had changed again.

They were in the Control Room, surrounded by Kolya and his Genii. The city was in danger of being destroyed by a tsunami. Sheppard was negotiating with Kolya over the radio for their release in exchange for C4, when Kolya revealed that Rodney had confessed that they had a plan to save the city: Kolya figured the city itself was a better prize than just the C4. Sheppard did not sound happy. They eventually won the day, but not without quite a struggle on Sheppard, Ford, Teyla, and Carson's part. And Elizabeth was nearly shot three times!

"Just think, Rodney: if you'd been a braver man, Kolya would have left with the C4, and that would have been that. None of the Genii would have needed to die at John's hand. Did you know he still has nightmares about that? All thanks to you whiny, miserable self!"

Rodney had never seen the man like this when he'd been alive, never heard him belittle others like this! It was making him ill to hear things like that come out of Carson's mouth now.

"Death has a way of adjusting one's perspectives," Carson said, as if reading Rodney's mind. "Speaking of which ..."

The scene changed again. Rodney saw himself berating the young scientists who had, later that day, developed explosive tumors, thanks to exposure to an ancient device. The scene shifted; now they were in a hall, with Carson striding towards them. There was an explosion behind him, and a ball of fire engulfed the CMO.

"That hurt quite a lot, by the way," Carson said, while Rodney tried very hard not to throw up, and to stop hyperventilating. "Och, get over yerself, man!" Carson snapped.

The scene changed again. A grieving Rodney was confiding to Ronon that he should have gone fishing with Carson, and shouldn’t have assigned two junior scientists to study the device.

"You're absolutely right, Rodney," Carson told the memory version of the scientist. "If yeh had kept yer promise to me, and hadn't been so irresponsible in your judgment, I'd be alive right now."

The real Rodney tried the swallow the lump forming in his throat, to no avail.

The next set of visions were a flurry: Rodney fighting with John about saving Elizabeth; Elizabeth telling Teyla that it was reckless for them to have saved her with the nanites, and how horrible it had been for her the last time; Rodney telling the others that he could reprogramme the Replicator base code to go after the Wraith instead of them; Elizabeth being captures by the Replicators. And then something they hadn't been privy to: Elizabeth's execution at Oberoth's hands.

"She suffered so much because you decided to play god, Rodney. And what did it get you? You lost her anyway, and you're tampering with the code led to this ...."

As Rodney watched, world after world was decimated by the Replicators. He saw loving couples, parents, and children burned in infernos, crushed by debris, and sickened by radiation. He was bombarded by the images relentlessly, until he sank to his knees, crying out in agonised grief.

~ * @ * ~

John had gotten about halfway back to his quarters when he turned around, his feet taking him to McKay's place instead. He was being plagued by an unsettling feeling, one that he just knew wouldn’t go away unless he reassured himself that the scientist was sleeping peacefully that night.

Unfortunately, the scientist wasn't cooperating.

When John was close enough to the room, an earsplitting howl met his ears. It was a horrible, heart-rending sound -- one John never ever wanted to hear again. He raced down the hall to McKay's door, heart racing as images flashed through his head, of Rodney having the life sucked out of him by a Wraith, or an Asuran hand shoved into his skull, or even some alien creature painting the room with his blood--

"Rodney!!"

What John found, Rodney's door opening for him like he was expected, was considerably less dramatic -- just Rodney, huddled on the floor, head in his hands, screaming -- and yet somehow it was no less horrific in John's eyes than anything he had imagined. He dropped to the floor beside his friend, ignoring the protest of his knees, and pulled Rodney upright by the shoulders. It was only then that the man stopped screaming. His eyes were wild, and his reddened cheeks were streaked with tears.

"Rodney, come on, talk to me, buddy! What happened?"

Rodney looked at him strangely, mouth moving wordlessly before he finally asked, "Am I awake? Is this real?"

"What? Yeah, Rodney, you're awake -- is that what this is about? Did you have a nightmare? Don't tell me you've taken up sleepwalking like Lorne," he added with far more humour than he felt. He felt Rodney trembling beneath his hands, which instinctually tightened on his friend's shoulders.

"I ... I guess so. I ... I saw Carson. A-and he ..." Rodney screwed his eyes shut and hunched over again, stifling a sob.

John hated feeling helpless, but he knew there wasn't really anything he could say that didn't ring hollowly. Still, he had to try, even though tears were stinging own eyes. Despite the tightening in his throat, he managed to make soothing noises as he rubbed a hand up and down Rodney's back. "Shhhh, Rodney, it was just a dream. Nothing to get worked up about, okay? Just let it go ...."

Had the man been having nightmares like this since Carson's death, or was this a new occurrence? John had had a few nightmares himself, and he missed Carson as well, but he didn't blame himself for the man's death, as Ronon had said Rodney did, and he wasn't as close to Carson as Rodney had obviously been. Thanks to Zelenka, John also knew that the recent confirmation that Elizabeth was indeed dead was weighing heavily on Rodney, reopening the wounds Carson's loss had made. The Czech had expressed concern for Rodney's mental health; John had been doing his best to keep an eye on Rodney in the days since then. Apparently his best hadn't been good enough!

A dull ache in his knees managed to be persistent enough to override John's concern, if only for a moment. He could imagine how much worse it was going to be for Rodney, who had been kneeling longer (and had more joint problems, if his usual complaining was anything to go by). "Hey, let's get off this cold floor, huh?" John said, rising to his feet with a few loud cricks. When Rodney showed no sign of getting up, John knelt over and slipped a hand under the scientist's arm, gently lifting him, encouraging the foggy-headed astrophysicist to stand. He led Rodney to the head of the bed and sat beside him.

If John didn’t know better, he'd swear that Rodney was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder -- was it possible to have a delayed response? Or had John been so wrapped up in his own misery that he'd missed the signs before? He wished Heightmeyer were still alive -- then quickly shoved the thought aside, her death still a raw wound for him.

"You gonna be okay?" John asked his friend, laying a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. The lost look in Rodney's big blue eyes broke his heart. John resisted the inexplicable and overwhelming urge he had to cradle Rodney in his arms; somehow he didn’t think he could pass that off as just doing his duty as team leader. And since when did he, John Sheppard, get all touchy-feely anyway?

"I-I don't think I can sleep," Rodney confided brokenly, shaking John from thoughts that were straying into uncomfortable territory. "I close my eyes and ... and I see the things Carson showed me -- his death, Elizabeth's, families dying horribly under Replicator weapons fire ... none of it would have happened if not for me."

"Hey! How many times are we going to have this discussion, Rodney?" John asked, the steel rising in his voice, his grip on McKay's shoulder tightening. "I'm as responsible for that decision as you -- we couldn't have imagined things would turn out like this! If you need to blame someone, blame the Wraith -- and the Ancients, for that matter -- for putting us in this position in the first place!"

Rodney shrugged noncommittally, which John read as the man not buying it but also being too tired to argue. Well, he could work with that.

"Look, ah ... why don't we watch a movie? I'll keep you company until you fall asleep."

Again, the shrug.

"Get your shoes off and climb into bed while I get the laptop set up."

Rodney did as he was bade, with slow deliberateness, as if an sudden movements might cause him to shatter like glass.

"So how about It's a Wonderful Life?" John asked.

"No!" Rodney answered quickly.

John raised a brow -- he knew the film was one of Rodney's all-time favourites, and it was the right time of year .... "Okay, how about that Bill Murray movie, Scrooged?"

"No!" Rodney said, jumping to his feet, a panicked light in his eyes. "Uh, I-I mean I'm ... not in the mood for holiday stuff. Look, ah, m-maybe we should just skip--"

"The Princess Bride, then?" John pushed. He'd come to make sure Rodney was sleeping, and he wasn't leaving until the man was.

Rodney seemed to consider it. "Yeah, okay," he finally agreed, sinking back down onto the bed.

John waited until the man was settled under the blankets, then arranged himself on top of the blankets, beside him. He lay the laptop half on his lap, half on Rodney's stomach, since Rodney was mostly lying down.

By the time the movie was half over, Rodney was snuggled into John's side, John's shirt bunched in his fist. Rodney was snoring softly -- and frowning. Afraid that Rodney might wake with another nightmare, John resolved to stay by his friend's side until morning. He closed the laptop down and lay it on the bedside table, next to his radio, then got as comfortable -- at least, as much as he could with Rodney clinging to him like that. Rather than being annoyed, John felt a flush of warmth and affection for his friend, and wrapped his arm around him.

Four years ago, John would never have believed they could get so close, so at ease in one another's company -- back then, he had hardly even liked the guy! But it hadn't taken him long to warm up Rodney. All he'd had to do was realise that Rodney's arrogance and crankiness were defence mechanisms, and John was suddenly able to slip past that hard exterior to find the warm, funny, caring person beneath. In fact, John realised, the times when he and Rodney had been the most at odds had always been when each of them was doing what they'd thought was right, and their views of what was right were at odds. It was only because he cared about and trusted Rodney that their differing opinions over such crucial things were able to bring John such pain, instead of just anger or indifference. In getting past Rodney's walls, it seemed that John had let the man in past his own barriers in turn.

John couldn't imagine his life without Rodney now -- or Teyla or Ronon, of course. They were the family he'd never really known growing up, and he liked to think his teammates felt the same. When Rodney had insisted on sacrificing himself to the Wraith so that Jeannie could live, John had felt like the world was crashing down around him. It had gutted him to tell Rodney that he couldn’t save his sister, but losing Rodney wouldn't have been any easier for John than losing Jeannie would have been for the scientist. Harder, even, for he saw Rodney every day, and Rodney had only seen Jeannie a total of a week or so in four years! John knew it was selfish of him to put his own feelings before Rodney's, but he'd sooner cut his own arms and legs off than risk losing another friend. And yes, it had sickened him, what he'd done later, convincing Wallace to sacrifice himself in Rodney's stead, but ... well, the man had committed a great wrong, and John wasn't about to let Rodney -- or Jeannie -- pay the price for it.

Rodney whimpered a little in his sleep, and John realised with a start that he was carding his fingers through his friend's hair. He didn't stop, though; the motion seemed to be soothing Rodney, after all. He refused to think about how soft McKay's baby-fine hair was.

And that was his last thought before he fell asleep himself.

(*In case you missed the third-season ep "McKay and Mrs Miller", I'll tell you now that Rodney's real name is Meredith Rodney McKay.)

~ Chapter Three: The Ghost of Present Errors~

When John woke up, he was completely disoriented. Why was his bed as hard as a rock? And longer -- his feet weren't dangling off the edge! Had he shrunk during the night?

He inhaled deeply, in preparation for opening his eyes, and realised his bed didn't smell right. It didn't smell bad, no, but it was unfamiliar. Well, no, it wasn't, it smelled like ...

Like Rodney.

He bolted upright, eyes snapping open. The clock on the bedside table read 7:06.

It wasn't his clock.

It wasn't his bedside table, either.

And it sure as hell wasn't his bed.

Before a full-on freak-out could start, he realised that, while he was indeed still in McKay's bed, Rodney himself was not present. And there was no way John was going to contemplate why he felt a little disappointed with that realisation.

Instead, he threw the covers off (covers he himself had not slipped under), put on his combat boots (boots he had not taken off) and radio, and hurried out the door (which he had to think really hard at to get to open, as if the city itself didn't want him to leave).

Two steps out, he ran into Teyla, far more literally than was healthy for either of them. (Hopefully this was why the door was so reluctant to open!) He meant to tell her Sorry as he helped her regain her feet; instead, what came out of his mouth was "This isn't what it looks like!"

"Good morning, John," Teyla told him wryly. "And what, precisely, is not what it appears to be?"

"Nothing!" he insisted.

She raised a brow. It was all she needed to do to break him.

She should give lessons in interrogation to the Genii, John thought sourly. "I didn't sleep with Rodney!"

The other brow went up.

"Well, okay, I technically did, but that's all. He was having nightmares, and I stayed with him until he fell asleep, and I guess I fell asleep too!"

Her brows knit together in worry. "Rodney is having nightmares? Well, that would explain why he looks so tired. It is good that you were able to help him to get some sleep; were you able to determine what the source of the nightmares is?"

John let out a breath. "It's the whole coding thing -- he dreamt that Carson showed him the people on those planets being killed by the Replicators."

"He dreamt of Carson showing him this?"

John wanted to hug Teyla for the sympathy in her eyes.

Instead, he just nodded. "Does that mean something in dream-speak?

Teyla shook her head. "I do not have any special skills at interpreting dreams, John. I assume he's just juxtaposing things over which he feels an inordinate amount of guilt -- however unreasonable those feelings may be. It just ... saddens me that he blames himself."

John nodded. "Hey, wanna get some breakfast?"

She smiled. "That would be most welcome. Perhaps we should gather Rodney as well? I think now more than ever he needs his friends by his side."

"Couldn’t have said it better myself," John agreed. He reached up to open a channel on his radio, then thought better of it. "Maybe you should call him." After how they had ended up snuggled together in bed, he wasn't sure what might be going through Rodney's head right now -- especially since the man hadn’t woken him up before leaving!

Teyla seemed to read his mind. "John, I know your military frowns upon same-sex relationships, but it also frowns upon fraternization between opposite sexes as well, does it not? And yet I know of many such relationships on Atlantis. I--"

"Whoa, whoa, what brought that up? I only asked you to call McKay because he's more likely to listen to you than me!"

Teyla gave him a droll smile, and he found he no longer wanted to hug her. In fact, he would be much happier out on one of the piers -- maybe even the mainland. Anywhere far, far away. "I doubt that very much, John. You can often be most ... persuasive with Rodney, even when he is at his most obstinate; I cannot even count how many times he insisted something was impossible, only to then do that very thing after you ordered him to. As for why I broached the subject, only ask because of how upset you seemed at the suggestion that you and Rodney slept together -- and observation, I might add, which I did not even make. But obviously the subject was on your own mind! So I simply wish to know why the possible perception that you did would be so worrisome to you. Surely you know that I care for you both, and would only wish for your happiness, however you may find it?"

John took a quick look down each side of the hall, thought Rodney's door back open, and dragged Teyla inside, closing it again behind her. "Look. First ... just let me point out that I'm not fraternising with anyone, because I like my job, thanks, and dating anyone under my command could get me fired. What other people do here is their business; I won't actively go around reprimanding anyone, but if someone reports someone else, I would have to do something. But to answer your question -- and only because you asked, not because it in any way applies to me ... well, my people aren't exactly as liberal-minded as you may be used to. Even if it were okay to ... fraternise, there are those who would not be tolerant of a same-sex relationship."

Teyla pursed her lips. "I do not believe anyone here would feel that way, John. Further, I do not believe anyone would report you, even if they did have personal qualms -- and I am hurt that you feared I would do such a thing."

"What? Oh, no, I -- Teyla, that was just a knee-jerk reaction on my part, it had nothing to do with you personally! I'm sorry, really!"

"So tell me then, John ... was your fear based on a desire to not be fired, or do you take personal issue with being perceived as someone who would have same-sex relations?" Teyla asked in curious tones.

"The former!" And he heard the ring of falseness as he said it. She raised a brow, confirming that she had heard it as well. He sank down on the bed, running a hand through his hair, quickly dropping that same hand to the bed when he realised he was thinking of how soft Rodney's hair had felt the night before. "I'm not a homophobe, I'm not! I mean, I have no problem with guys dating each other -- that's their business. But ... I guess I never saw myself in that context. Well, no, that's not true -- I've checked other guys out before. But I've always been attracted to women -- really attracted. And being gay ... even the faintest suggestion that you may like other guys tends to cause a person problems, particularly in the American military -- even without regulations!"

She smiled in the way that said she felt the Earthers had much to learn. He hated when she was patronizing like that -- especially since she usually right. "We do not think in terms of 'gay' or 'straight' out here; we consider our interest on a person to person basis. I must admit, it is ... hard to fathom doing otherwise, and limiting one's options through a one-time decision. I also cannot seem to grasp the stigma that your people associate with same-sex relations."

"Truth be told? I can't really either," he admitted ruefully. "I think we're just sort of ... conditioned into it."

She cocked her head. "Like brainwashing?"

He coughed. "Er, I guess that's not entirely inaccurate."

She sat on the bed next to him. "Then all I ask is that you .... consider why you thought that I would assume that you and Rodney had slept together, John. You have both been through so much hardship -- I would hate for either of you to miss any possible joy."

"With McKay?" he asked incredulously.

"For all his quirks, he is not unattractive," Teyla insisted.

"Then why don’t you sleep with him?"

"I am not the one he is interested in," Teyla pointed out simply.

"Well, neither am I! He's dating Katie Brown, in case you haven't noticed!"

Teyla grew sad. "I fear that theirs is a relationship built on a very weak foundation. While most people tend to only see Rodney's faults, Dr Brown only sees his vulnerable side. She cannot embrace the whole, the way we, his teammates, do. In that respect, she is no closer to him that anyone else aside from us, and perhaps Zelenka and Colonel Carter."

Now why did that observation, that Carter may be as close to Rodney as he himself, make John feel grumpy all of the sudden?

"And for Rodney's part," Teyla continued, "he, I believe, is simply too amazed that someone as sweet as Dr Brown is likes him; he cares for her, but not truly any more than he does for any other expedition member outside of our team. He seems ... in love with the idea of being in love. And I cannot deny that Dr Brown has been good for him, to an extent -- he has become kinder in her company, certainly -- but there will come a time when he will grow used to her, and begin to treat her like everyone else. When that happens ..."

"She'll dump him like a hot potato." John finished, inexplicably cheered by the thought, and then feeling guilty -- and confused -- for feeling elation at the prospect of his friend's unhappiness.

Teyla nodded. "Or else she will hold him to strict standards which he cannot hope to conform to on a continuous basis. They will likely make each other miserable."

That reminded John .... "Rodney told me that Jeannie said he'd better hurry up and marry Katie already, because he wasn't likely to do any better ...." Despite teasing the man himself, John wasn't feeling too charitable towards Jeannie after hearing that.

Teyla flinched a little. "I am sure that was just typical sibling torment .... " She didn’t sound entirely convinced or happy. John wanted to hug her for it. "But you already accept him as he is. Your relationship with him is already a solid one, a deep bond that has withstood many tests, and you are there for each other in ways even the best of friends seldom are. I think either one of you would be devastated to lose the other, far more than any of us, even Rodney, was by losing Carson or Elizabeth."

Her mention of their fallen friends caused the usual twinge of sadness, true, but the suggestion of losing Rodney .... He'd been forced to look that possibility square and the eye just recently. Even though the immediate threat had passed, the mere notion still left him shaken in a way that exceeded any actual losses he'd experienced before.

Oh god, was she right?

"I'm not attracted to him," he said, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to Teyla or himself.

Teyla sighed in that infinitely patient way that said he was an especially dense pupil. "I am not trying to force you into a sexual relationship with him, John." And wasn't he was very glad they weren't in a public place for this conversation? "I am simply asking you not to dismiss the possibility out of hand. There are many different ways to love; I hope that you will accept it any way it comes, and allow yourself to love others in any way that you can. Just know that if you should develop an intimate relationship -- with anyone, mind -- even if it goes beyond what your people are normally comfortable with, Ronon and I will be here to support you. As we will be for Rodney."

"Except when he's with Katie," he pointed out with a smile.

"In that particular case, I fear the support will take the form of a shoulder to cry on, yes."

~ * @ * ~

"Dammit, I thought I told everyone that this lab was off-limits today! Do you want to murder billions by holding me up?" Rodney snapped at the brunette woman getting coffee from the cofeemaker. He needed a cup himself, and he needed it now.

Unfortunately, he startled the woman so badly, she dropped the pot, shattering it on the floor.

"Oh that's just perfect! Hey, you wanna help humanity? Try working for the Replicators instead, and you can make their lives a misery!"

Katie Brown looked up at him, pain and shock written in bold strokes across her face. He stared dumbly for a long moment, mouth agape. When had she dyed her hair? "K-Katie? Katie, I'm sorry, I--"

She shoved him out of the way and limped out the door.

He hurried after her. "Katie, please, I've just had a bad night. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Katie, wait--"

"If you don't mind, Rodney," she began, in angry tones he'd never even thought her capable of, "that coffee was hot, and I'd like to get to the infirmary!"

Oh god, he'd really screwed up this time. Captain Oblivious strikes again .... "Well, let me ..." Let him what? What could he do? "L-let me carry you, then!" He reached out for her.

She yanked her arm away. "Why, so you can blame me when your back goes out? You've done enough -- just go back to your oh-so-important work, there's no reason we both should be delayed, right? My cancer research will just have to wait until I get patched up!" Despite her obvious pain, she ran the last few steps to the transporter and hit the button, disappearing in a flash of light just as he reached the door.

What should he do? Go after her or give her some space?

"Great," he muttered, leaning against the wall and sliding down to the floor. He was so bad at this! As if he didn’t have other worries on his mind ....

He looked up, hopeful, when the transporter reacted. He felt a momentary disappointment when Teyla walked out.

His day inexplicably brightened when John Sheppard came out a step after her.

"Hey," he said weakly.

His friends turned to him. "Rodney! What are you doing there?" Teyla asked kneeling beside him.

"Oh, you know. Terrorising my employees and chasing them out of the lab. Making sure my girlfriends wants nothing more to do with me," he added, looking up at the colonel.

Sheppard looked startled -- maybe even alarmed -- as he traded a look with Teyla, whose own eyes held a decidedly unsurprised look in turn. Why did Rodney have the impression his love life had been a recent topic of conversation?

Then he remembered the situation he'd found himself in that morning, lying in bed with the colonel, their arms around each other. It was the first peace Rodney could remember feeling in months -- and it had unsettled him to no end, especially given the state a certain part of his anatomy had been in. He'd taken a hurried shower, as cold as he could bear, yet, when he went to leave, he couldn't just go. He'd found himself removing Sheppard's boots, then tugging the blanket out from under the man, laying it over him instead. And then he just sat there, watching the man's chest rise and fall. The movement was oddly ... comforting. Just as the man's dark lashes were oddly beautiful against his lightly-tanned skin. Sheppard's unruly mane had grown even more wild against the pillow; it had been all Rodney could do to resist the urge to reach out and tame one of the man's cowlicks, to brush straying strands from the man's forehead

Rodney's instinct to run from such strange, unfamiliar feelings had warred with the feelings themselves, which in turn urged him to stay. A radio call from Zelenka had ended finally the battle, drawing him from the room against his will, leaving him with overwhelming sense of loss. And wasn't that just a kicker of a realisation, first thing in the morning?

The memory of those feelings of warmth and affection danced in the most stomach-turning way possible with the considerably less pleasing emotions Katie's hurried departure had left him with; shame and guilt were the dancers' hands, clasping as they circled.

"Let us go to your lab, and we can talk about it," Teyla said.

"You do realise that that's probably the last thing in the galaxy I want to do, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure I could think of a few worse things, McKay," Sheppard growled, gabbing his arm and lifting him to his feet. The action reminded McKay far too much of the happenings of the night before.

"Actually, I, ah ... I was debating whether I should go after her and make sure she's okay. I probably should, right? E-even though she told me to go back to work?"

"Well... maybe you should give her some space," Sheppard suggested.

"Now, see, I thought so at first, but ... well, she got hurt, though, so shouldn't I make sure she's okay? Not that I could do anything about it -- not anything more than Keller, anyway, and she said she was going to the infirmary--"

"Wait, she got hurt? What happened?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney cringed. "I, ah ... I thought she was someone else. She dyed her hair, see?" he added quickly, fingers twiddling anxiously. "Anyway, I'd ordered everyone to stay out of my lab today, so when I went to get more coffee and found someone in my way, I kind of ... well, lost it."

"You hit her?" Sheppard gawked a him, and even Teyla looked alarmed.

"No," Rodney returned, offended. "I startled her when I started yelling, and she dropped the coffeepot. It, ah, splashed all over her, and I guess it was still pretty hot. And I ... I may have yelled some more before I realised who it was. Oh god, I am an ass -- I should have gone after her in the first place, no matter what she said!" Feeling like a first-class heel, he hurried into the transporter and beamed himself to the infirmary.

~ * @ * ~

John started at the now-empty transporter, feeling far more disappointed than he thought he ought to.

"I believe your people say 'I told you so' in these instances, do they not?" Teyla asked him.

"What? No! I wasn't pining for him just now!"

She gave him a level look. "I meant that he treated Katie just as he does everyone else, and she got angry, just as I predicted." The look she gave him said he ought to examine the fact that he had, once again, assumed she thought he felt something for Rodney.

He ignored the look, focusing on Teyla's words. "She got hurt, and he just yelled at her!" Sheppard protested. "I'd be pissed too!"

"Nevertheless, even if she forgives him now, this will only be the first of many such encounters. And did you notice that he did not go after her right away?" Teyla pointed out.

"Well, that's just McKay being McKay -- he even said he didn’t know whether he ought to. And he said she told him to go back to work, too -- maybe he was just trying to be considerate of her feelings!"

"Nevertheless, I am certain he would have insisted on going along if it had been you that was injured, even if you had told him not to."

"You mean he wouldn't have cared about my feelings -- I'd say that means he likes me less, not more."

"Rodney follows his heart, however misguided it might be at times, John; he would have ignored your request in order to be true to that heart. He does not care for Katie enough to go against her wishes in favour of his own. He can be dishonest with her in ways that he cannot be with you."

"You're worse than a pit bull with a bone, you know that?" John sighed, running a hand through his hair. He refused to notice how coarse it was compared to Rodney's; running his hand through his hair was a reflex action, and he'd be damned if he was going to think of another guy every time! "And frankly, I'm not entirely sure it's comforting to know the fact that he can be more selfish with me means he likes me better!" He did a double take. "What am I saying? I told you, I don't like him that way anyway, so you know what? It doesn't even matter whether he likes me more than Katie. I hope he does like Katie better than me." He hoped that statement didn't sound as forced to Teyla as it did to him. "Come on, let's go eat already."

~ * @ * ~

Katie had refrained from throwing any bedpans Rodney's way, at least, but she let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was seriously reconsidering her perception of him, and reevaluating their relationship.

"It's my partially fault," she assured him. "I mean, I knew you had a temper, but I thought the others had been ... well, exaggerating your angrier episodes. But Rodney, those things you said when you thought I was someone else ... well, I'm not sure I want to be intimate with someone who could say those things to anyone. And the fact that you just ... stood there when I had been hurt ...."

"I know, I .... I'm really sorry. A-and I know that doesn't make up for it, I’m ... I'm not trying to excuse my behavior. The fact of the matter is, I know I tend to be self-involved, but you've been helping me not to be, Katie!"

"I didn't help much this morning. And it's not enough that you're nice to me, Rodney. You need to learn to be nicer to everyone -- and to be that way without needing me as a reminder! So I think ... I think for your sake, its better that we don't see each other -- socially I mean -- until you do. Okay?"

Why did he feel relieved? Oh sure, he felt like an utter failure and the king of all jackasses as he nodded, and those were definitely tears stinging is eyes and tickling his throat as badly as a lemon, but under it all, his breathing felt a little easier, his shoulders lighter. Maybe it was just because, with all that was going on, he knew he couldn't be as good a boyfriend as she deserved.

Yes, that was it.

She let him help her back to her quarters, at least, which went a surprisingly long way towards assuaging his guilt. Going back to work in the lab right after helped him to ignore the rest.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Teyla came again that night, with another god-awful mug of hot almost-carob-pseudo-chocolate. Rodney drank it as penance for yelling at Katie.

Sheppard apparently had to handle yet another crisis for most of the day -- Rodney had heard the chatter over the radio, so he knew it was even true. So why did he still feel like he was being punished by the colonel? Why was he even more upset at the thought that what he'd done to Katie had driven Sheppard away than he was at the thought of losing Katie herself?

And of course the guilt over his continuous failure with the code rewrites was a constant underlying thrum of misery.

He was so distracted by his daylight concerns, he'd forgotten about the promise of another nightly visitor until he was literally at his own door. It didn’t even open when he stepped up to it, possibly sensing his own reluctance to enter and find out who was waiting for him on the other side. Remembering how Gall had followed him into the hall, he finally decided that it would be better just to get it over with. Better to have a psychotic break in the comfort of his own quarters than in some public area, for his entire staff (or at least the ones who were still awake) to see.

He wondered who tonight's ghost would be. Even after stepping inside and finding the apparition in question waiting for him in his desk chair, he was still wondering.

His -- her? -- face was blurry, the body androgynous. When she -- he? -- spoke, the voice was like a chorus, like millions speaking all at once.

"We are the faces of those whose lives you have ruined."

Oh. Perfect. Better still, looking at and listening to the thing was giving him vertigo.

"We're here to show you what's happening now," it told him, reaching out a hand.

"You know, I never much liked that show*; I'd rather pass, if you don't mind," he told ... it? Them?

It -- whatever -- continued to hold out its hand expectantly. Sighing, he took it. The vertigo became a billion times worse, and even when the scene settled, his stomach still hadn't. He was quietly sick in a corner, wondering idly if the puddle he was making would remain in the astral plane for all eternity.

Finally, he took in his surroundings. It was a surprisingly modern affair, though stark and falling into disrepair. A family sat around the dinner table, eating a sparse supper in silence save for one child who wheezed incessantly, picking at his tiny portion as though he could not even eat that much.

"This is a family of the humans known to many as the Travelers," the faceless apparition told him. "Your Colonel Sheppard was abducted by one named Larrin** not long ago. The bulk of this family's income was once derived from the gas-mining they did on a planet in the next solar system. Most of that solar system is gone now -- five-sixths of it, in fact -- including the one that they mined the gas from. Because that solar system was uninhabited, you believed that there was no harm in its destruction. Thankfully, this family was not there at the time, but they can no longer afford the medicine needed to treat the chronic illness that poor boy is afflicted with. He will die before the week is out."

"What can be done?" Rodney asked, horrified.

"Nothing," the faceless one told him.

"But ... But this is the present right?? Not the past? Why show me this if I can't do anything about it?!"

"So that you may know what misery you have wrought among the masses," the apparition answered simply, its tone implying that he'd asked something as inconsequential as what the time was. It then reached out and took his hand.

The scene morphed before him. The walls became that of a hovel, the floor dirt, the table rough-hewn. There was no father here, only a mother and three young children.

"Her husband was killed on a world destroyed by the Replicators -- he was there trading at the time."

The room shifted again, only slightly this time. A father sat with two children.

"His wife was killed on another world, that one culled by the two-early roused Wraith.

Again a slight shift. This time a man sat alone at a table. "All of his people were killed, and he was blinded. Being so utterly alone has driven him into madness."

And so it went. On and on and on, one tragedy after another, all of them attributed to either the Wraith or the Replicators.

Rodney forced himself to remember everything, refusing to look away, doing his best to keep his eyes cleared of tears so that they wouldn't blur his vision. It was the very least he could do, burning the images of pain and sorrow into his mind. But finally, he couldn’t bear it anymore.

"ENOUGH!" he snarled, falling to his knees a sobbing wreck.

"Bored of this, are you?" the faceless one asked. "How about a real change of scene?"

And suddenly they were in his sister's bedroom. Jeannie and Caleb were asleep, though Jeannie's rest was fitful.

"Whoa, hey, uh, I don't--"

Jeannie woke with a gasp, shaking and scratching. Rodney could see then that she had red welts on her arms from where she must have scratched herself before. Caleb woke up and held her in his arms, making soothing noises as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"She has nightmares about them all the time, the tiny robots in her blood." The apparition told him. "She imagines she can feel them, writhing beneath her skin."

"Jeannie," Rodney whispered, his face an echo of her own grief. "I'm so sorry." He stepped close, reaching out to touch her hair, his fingers sinking into her skull, reminding him of the Replicators. He yanked the digits back quickly -- and found himself looking at Katie, as she spoke to one of her friends.

"You were right about him, Carol," Katie said miserably. "I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before."

"Love is blind," Carol said ruefully. "And you have a knock for seeing the best in people."

"Even when it's not really there?" Katie asked ruefully.

Rodney's lip trembled. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

When he could see again, he discovered that he was back in his own room, the phantom that had plagued him nowhere to be found.

He fell upon his bed and cried himself to sleep.

Nightmares woke him well before dawn.

(* There was a show when I was growing up called What's Happening Now!!, which was a spin-off of What's Happening!! -- I didn't care for either of them. Anyway, when I typed out the faceless one's line, I couldn't help but think of that show, hence Rodney's reply ....

** Larrin abducted John in the fourth-season ep "Travellers".)

~ Chapter Four: The Ghost of Future Travesties~

"How do we reach your friend Larrin?"

John looked up to find Rodney settling across from him, slowly, as if he were in pain; there was nothing but a mug of coffee in his hand. John saw Ronon, on Rodney's side of the table, staring at the cup, then at Rodney, brow furrowed.

John nodded to the Satedan, then turned his attention back to Rodney. "I don’t know how to reach her; she didn’t exactly give me a forwarding address. She said she'd find me. And frankly, I'm not really looking forward to that."

"Oh," was Rodney's only reply. Looking like a distracted zombie, he started to get to his feet.

John grabbed his wrist, pulling him down. "Rodney. What's going on?"

"Yeah, buddy, what's up?" Ronon said, slapping an arm over the man's shoulder, effectively trapping him. The smile Ronon gave the scientist was his I'll happily interrogate you if I need to, and I have no problem with torture -- just ask Kavanagh -- so you better start talking look.

Rodney in turn looked so lost, it scared John. "There's a boy," the physicist said quietly, a faraway look in his eyes as he spoke. "He's sick, and it's my fault, John." He met John's eyes then, just for a moment, before looking away, like he was ashamed. John felt his pulse quicken at the so-rare use of his name. Why couldn't Rodney ever say it under happier circumstances? "I need to find him. I-I need to--" His voice caught in his throat, his face crumpling. He covered his eyes with his free hand, shoulder's shaking with quiet tears.

The Satedan shot Teyla a helpless glance, likely looking to her for guidance. He glanced at the mostly-empty space in front of Rodney again. The big man got up.

"Be right back."

John got up and came to stand beside Rodney, blocking him from anyone's view, though there weren't many people in the mess at that early an hour. "Hey," John said, laying a hand on Rodney's shoulder; he started to rub his hand down Rodney's back, then caught himself. "Why don’t we go to my office, and you can tell us what's going on?"

Wiping his eyes, Rodney nodded. Ronon returned a moment later with a tray of food. John just jerked his head towards the exit, and Ronon nodded. John led the way, Ronon and Teyla flanking the scientist. Thankfully it was early; the one person they encountered in the hall was Lorne, who, after a momentary flicker of alarm upon seeing a puffy-eyed McKay, wisely pretended not to notice them. John knew he could trust the man to stay discrete about what he'd seen.

They settled Rodney in the chair at the front of his desk; John sat in the seat behind it, of course, while Teyla sat on the desk and Ronon, after laying the tray (which now also bore Rodney's coffee mug as well as assorted breakfast foods that Rodney tended to favour) down in front of the scientist, stood like a sentinel next to the door.

John leaned back in his seat, hoping that appearing at ease would relax Rodney. "Okay, now, Rodney, what's the story about this kid? How do you know of any of Larrin's people?"

"You remember the dream I had the night before last?" he began hesitantly. "Er, the one I told you about yesterday," he added quickly, darting a glance at Teyla.

"Rodney," Teyla said, grasping his hand in hers, "I know that John kept you company that night so that you could sleep peacefully; it is nothing to be ashamed of. I found him leaving your room yesterday morning, " she elaborated when Rodney tensed, staring at John in disbelief, obviously thinking he had blabbed. John was feeling a little edgy himself, sitting up straight. Ronon didn't react in the slightest; John could have hugged him for that.

"I realise that your family and friendships back on earth were not so casual or intimate," Teyla continued, "but among my people? We often do such things for one another, be we bound by blood or otherwise."

"On Sateda, too," Ronon said, keeping his eyes on the door.

It was Ronon's words that seemed to mollify Rodney, who finally nodded.

"Now, you said you had a dream?" Teyla prompted.

Rodney nodded again. "It, ah ... it started the day before, actually," he said in tones so hushed, John had to sit all the way forward in order to hear. Ronon even took a subtle step or two backwards, towards McKay. And they all listened with growing horror as Rodney recounted the details of his nightmares, of ghosts of deceased colleagues, visions of fallen civilizations, and portraits of impoverished families. And guilt. Oh, John was no stranger to guilt -- those nightmares could have easily been his own, for waking up the Wraith, as Rodney's own nightmare pointed out. But Rodney seemed as though he were being driven downright insane by his!

"Rodney ... it was just a dream," John said gently, reaching out to take his friend's hand. His heart seemed to simultaneously swell and break as Rodney's fingers curled around his own, squeezing like a man holding tight to a lifeline. "That little boy wasn't real."

Rodney swallowed hard. "I want to believe that. I mean, you know me, I don’t go for portents. But ... after our experience with that Seer, and nearly ascending, I just don’t know anymore. If felt so real, and I swear I was awake when it all happened!"

"There's one way to find out," Ronon said, still facing the door. "You said Miko and Simpson saw you, right?"

Rodney snapped his fingers, eager. "That's right! We can--" His face fell. "And if they did see me, what does that change? Either I'm certifiable instead of just having nightmares, or there really is a kid out there who's dying and we have no way of finding him!"

"Well, we have to know one way or another, right?" John pointed out, squeezing Rodney's hand reassuringly. "And if it even remotely looks like this kid is real, we'll do everything we can to track him down, I promise." Even if he had to do it behind someone's back. "In the meantime, we'll get you checked out by Keller. And tonight, we'll have an impromptu movie night in your quarters and then sack out there, like we're off-world or something."

"Just so long as I get to pick the movie," Ronon groused, and John knew he was only saying that to ease Rodney's discomfort, make everything seem more normal.

"Hey!" Rodney protested. "It's my room!"

"Fine. But we get veto power," Ronon negotiated.

"Fine!" Rodney said crankily, sounding more like his old self already. His features softened. "Thanks," he told them quietly, standing.

Ronon patted his shoulder companionably -- and them shoved him back down into the chair. "You're not going anywhere until you eat." He turned back to the door.

Rodney was the picture of misery as he stared at the food, clearly not hungry. John was tempted to give him permission to skip it, but knew the man's hypoglycaemia was nothing to play games with. To encourage him, John filched a piece of bacon; Rodney pulled the tray protectively closer to himself and began to dig in, if only to prevent John from taking any more -- just as John had expected he would. John flashed Teyla a grin, which she returned. He also saw the corner of Ronon's mouth quirk; either the Satedan was psychic or he had another set of eyes hidden in his dreadlocks ....

~ * @ * ~

"You're definitely experiencing a spike in dopamine levels," Keller confirmed. "At these levels, hallucinations wouldn't be unusual."

Rodney paled. Teyla grabbed his hand; John resisted the urge to do the same.

"Can you tell what's causing it?" John asked, praying that it would just turn out to be an easily-fixed dietary thing.

"No, but I can hazard a guess. McKay, have you been eating a lot of chocolate lately?"

"No ...." Rodney said warily.

"He hasn't been eating much of anything lately," John told her while frowning at his friend. And why hadn't he noticed until just now how thing McKay had been getting. He almost looked ... gaunt! Ten something occurred to him. "Wait a minute -- I gave McKay a cup of that carob-like stuff Teyla made the other day -- that stuff's supposed to be like chocolate, right?"

Keller nodded thoughtfully. "It's an alien version of carob, right? Perhaps it's had a stronger effect than usual."

Teyla frowned, worried. "But many people drank it, myself and John included. Why haven't the rest of us been affected?"

"Well, everyone's body reacts differently to stimulus," Keller replied, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Maybe McKay is just more sensitive to it, like an allergy. Or maybe he's just been more depressed to start with; studies show that chocolate, when consumed by the clinically-depressed, can make depression worse."

"So I can never have chocolate again??" Rodney asked, alarmed.

"Well, we don’t know for sure that that's the problem yet. It may just be the carob brew in particular. But as a precaution, in the future, you should only eat chocolate when you're already happy -- the effects of consuming chocolate as an indulgence rather than as an opiate are markedly different. For now, though, avoid it entirely."

Dejected, Rodney nodded. "Will I have another whacked nightmare tonight?

"I don't think so -- you had the dreams or hallucinations shortly after drinking the carob brew, right?"

"Teyla brought me another mug before I went to bed last night," Rodney confirmed.

John felt a flush of guilt, since he had given McKay that first mug. Teyla looked similarly chagrined. Ronon, who had nothing to feel guilty for, kept his eyes on the pretty young doctor for the most part, his occasional glances at the scientist holding only worry. John almost envied him.

"Well, since you're not having the hallucinations during the day, I'm guessing that's the trigger. Still, there's a chance the effects are cumulative, or triggered by when the body signals the need for sleep. I can give you something that will knock you out if necessary, but I suggest not taking it unless you honestly can't get any rest tonight -- we need dream-sleep." She handed him a packet of pills.

"Thanks," he said. He sounded sincere, but also unhappy.

"Hey, we'll still do movie night, all right?" John told him, slapping him companionably on the shoulder."

Rodney only nodded, staring at the floor with those faraway eyes, lips tight. John wished Rodney would smile -- or even get grouchy. Anything other than this state of forlorn resignation the scientist was in ....

~ * @ * ~

Simpson and Miko were off doing something on the mainland, a training exercise with the marines and a few other non-military types, so they didn't bother contacting them to ask them if they remembered seeing Rodney in the hall the other night. After talking to Keller, it hardly seemed necessary anyway, Rodney mused. Well, at least if anyone called him crazy, he could reply that he was, actually, thanks, and shut them up.

When Zelenka first gave him the opportunity, though, he didn’t take it.

Zelenka didn't know about the morning's revelations, but that didn’t stop the Czech from throwing him worried glances, or treating him with kid gloves for the most part. Everyone seemed to sense there was something more serious going on other than McKay's usual manic behavior. He supposed they'd heard about him and Katie, and assumed that was the problem.

Of course, that fact that his teammates were stopping by every half hour to check on him, bringing him food or just gossiping companionably, was only drawing attention to the fact that something was wrong. He appreciated everyone's concern, but really? It was staring to get annoying! He didn’t have the heart to ask them to stop, but he was seriously considering staging a crisis, just to get them to leave him alone for a while!

Atlantis herself obliged him, one of the grounding stations going out when there was a storm on the way.

"I can handle this, Rodney; why don't you go to bed?" Radek suggested.

"No, no, I'm not tired yet and I could really use the fresh air." He was getting claustrophobic, the way everyone had been hovering! And frankly, with or without his teammates, he wasn't looking forward to trying to sleep that night.

He enjoyed the cool breeze -- and the solitude -- at the grounding station for all of ten seconds before his final visitor arrived.

"T-Todd*?" Rodney asked the Wraith that approached him, its skin the same gray-green as the ocean and storm-dark sky. Sheppard had named him that, and Rodney had happily started using the moniker himself (it was better than "Hey you!", anyway). "Is it really you? I mean ... are you ... dead?"

Todd gave him a menacing smile. "When you finally let me go, I was found by an enemy hive. But I'm not here to talk about me, Dr McKay. I'm here to show you your future ...." He held out a hand and laughed when Rodney eyed it distastefully. "A little Wraith humour," Todd told him with a grin, drawing a stunner and shooting McKay with it.

The world went white.

Rodney found himself on a barren world, lying on a roof in a fallen city with no apparent signs of life, not even seagulls over the water he saw in the distance. "So, it's going to be more of the same, huh?" he asked, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. "More visions of the cities that will be leveled because I helped Sheppard to wake your people up, or because I reprogrammed the Replicator base code? You know, on Earth we would call the act of constantly exposing someone to violence 'desensitizing' -- meaning that it stops bothering them after a while!"

"It's funny that you should mention Earth, Dr McKay," Todd said sweetly, pointing to an area of the skyline.

Even with the upper half of her arm missing, Rodney would recognise the Statue of Liberty anywhere.

Breathe coming short, he fell to his knees.

"Yes, Doctor McKay. In time, my people will discover the 'Space Bridge' you built and use it to reach Earth. With the feast we'll find here, we will return to Pegasus in astronomical numbers and crush the Replicators -- which you will have helped us reprogram by then, of course. But don't despair -- there are still people left here on Earth!" And with that, Todd hit him with the stunner again.

This time, when he woke up, it was to find a ten-year-old girl standing in his chest, oblivious to his existence. Disquieted, he hurried to his feet, and followed her gaze. She was watching a man strolling through the ruins. The man looked starved and injured. On some unspoken signal, the girl and a dozen others swarmed the man, snarling, hitting him with makeshift clubs, and cutting him with knives mad of torn metal and glass.

Rodney turned away, unable to bear witness to their savagery. He covered his ears, too.

**Do you recognise her, Dr McKay?** came the Wraith's voice in his mind.

Recognise her? Why would -- oh no. "Madison?" he whispered, refusing to look, not wanting to see his sister's familiar features reflected in those of the feral child.

**You're really rather bright, for a human,** Todd remarked.

Rodney screwed his eyes shut, a sob escaping from his lips. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the next bolt from the stunner.

He woke to the sibilant sound of Wraith speech. "Come now, McKay. Surely you do not have so many friends to spare?"

That didn’t sound like Todd, though. Confused, he opened his eyes.

A wraith stood before him. Not his actual self, but his future on, trapped in the sticky webs he knew all too well from his involuntary stays in a couple of hive ships. On the floor before him were decimated corpses that he recognised only from their clothes: Ronon. Teyla. Sheppard. Well, Sheppard wasn’t dead yet, his voice raspy as he ordered the captive Rodney not to give in to the Wraith's demands.

In inquisitive Wraith slapped it's hands over the wounds on the aged Sheppard's chest, taking his final breaths from him.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" the captive Rodney and the incorporeal one cried in tandem.

"Due to a mistake on your part, your team is captured," Todd informed his charge. "Though Atlantis disabled her gate, she will be found. She will fall at last, taking the last hope humanity has with her."

The words, horrific as they were, barely registered. He couldn't stop staring at John's lifeless eyes, which bore a hole into his own. He felt hollowed out, like every ounce of caring and decency had been sucked out of him when the last of John's life was ripped from the pilot.

"Ahhhh, you do not even care what happens after this, do you?" Todd observed, circling him. "Without your Sheppard, the universe isn’t even worth saving, is it?" If Rodney could still feel, he would have been shocked at the ring of truth. If he'd cared enough to deny it, he knew he would be unable to.

The Rodney that was trapped in the Wraith webs didn't even scream as his captor sucked the life from him, a little at a time. Though the Wraith hadn't finished the kill yet, still hoping to extract the information it wanted, the man's eyes were already dead, just waiting for the rest of his body to follow. If the Wraith learned of Atlantis' location, it wouldn’t be through him. The thought should have offered the original Rodney some small solace, but it didn't.

"What if I told you that there was a way to prevent this?" Todd asked. "Not an absolute, of course, but a way to increase the odds in Sheppard's favour? He might save everyone. You're a betting man, as I understand it, aren't you?"

And just like that, Rodney's ability to feel was restored, emotion prickling his skin like a rush of blood into a sleeping limb.

"What do I need to do?"

"Isn't the answer obvious?" Todd asked, shaking his head. "What did your friend Gall say about these visions we've shown you? You compared them to those of a man named Scrooge, I believe?"

"And he said ... that it was more like as much like George Bailey's situation as Scrooge's, but that the intent wasn't like either of them."

"And what was the intent of Scrooge's story?"

"To ... to get him to be kinder to his fellow man?"

"Is that really your issue, McKay?"

"Katie would say so!"

"Yes, yes, you're arrogant and bad with people. But you've always done your best to help mankind -- you've even succeeded a few times, even if it's never really been enough to make up for your errors." Todd chuckled. "No, Dr McKay, the universe does not need you to open your heart and help others -- quite the contrary! So what about George Bailey? What was his scenario?"

"He tried to commit suicide, and ah, some angel named Clarence showed him how his life touched others in ways he never even realised. You know!" Even as he said it, he realised how stupid it was to say that to an alien, as if the Wraith sat around watching TV. "How he was a worthwhile person," Rodney elaborated, "how his home town would have gone to hell in a handbasket if he hadn't been around -- that kind of stuff. Could we get to the point, please?" he snapped.

"And what did we show you?"

"How I screwed up!" Rodney threw his hand into the air.

"How the universe would have been better off without you," Todd clarified. "The universe doesn't want you to help others anymore, McKay. It doesn't want you at all!"

And Todd shot him with the stunner again.

~ * @ * ~

"So where did he go?" John asked Radek, upon discovering that Rodney wasn't in the lab.

"To a grounding station that needed repairing. I offered to do it myself, but he wouldn’t hear of it," Zelenka shrugged.

Ronon ran into the lab just then. "Guess what! You're not going to believe this ..." he looked around the room. "Hey, where's McKay?"

"Outside, apparently," John replied, feeling uneasy. "What aren't we going to believe?"

"Simpson and Miko just got back -- I asked them if they saw Rodney the other night. They did -- and they said that he wasn't alone when they saw him! They didn't get a good enough look to see who the other person was because the guy's back was to them -- and I think they were drunk, really -- but when I asked if he might have looked like Brendan Gall, they agreed that he was the right build to pass for him, just old! And I figure, last McKay saw him, he was old, right? Which means McKay wasn't hallucinating!"

John wondered if the horrified look on his face was anything like the one on Teyla's.

"And that's not all!" Ronon said, looking towards the door. "Guess who they found on the mainland?"

Lorne and a couple of Marines reached the door just then, with Todd in tow.

"I have important information for you," the Wraith announced.

~ * @ * ~

When Rodney roused himself again, he found himself back on the grounding station platform. Todd was standing over him, and nudged him with a boot. It was raining heavily; Rodney was shivering.

"Cold, are you? Or afraid?" the Wraith sneered.

"Does it matter?" Rodney asked himself, ignoring the Wraith's subsequent laugh.

Rodney stepped to the edge of the platform, watching the water churn below. If drowning was good enough for George Bailey, it's good enough for me, he thought. He glanced at Todd. "So long, Clarence! Look after Tiny Tim for me!" he shouted above the rain. He held his arms out, ready to embrace death.

"RODNEY!!!"

Rodney spun at the sound of John's voice, reacting to it like Pavlov's dog to a bell. The last thing he saw was John's fear-stricken face as he hurried towards him. The platform was slippery, though, the wind harsh -- and Rodney was standing too close to the edge. The next thing he knew, the world was rushing past him; he couldn’t tell up from down.

Then he couldn't tell anything at all.

~ * @ * ~

Ronon let out a roar when he saw Todd's doppelganger on the platform. His weapon already drawn, he fired on it, even as he knew it would do nothing.

You couldn't kill an Ascended being.

That's what Sheppard's pet Wraith had come to tell them, apparently; that one of his people had figured out how to Ascend. Ronon didn’t understand how that was possible -- didn’t you have to be a good person to Ascend? (And human? Apparently not.) But Sheppard had pointed out that the Ori weren't exactly good guys, and they were Ascended. And then Teyla had put two and two together and suggested that the apparition Rodney had been plagued by the past few nights was this newly-Ascended Wraith, hell-bent on revenge because McKay had sicked the Replicators on its people. So they had all rushed down here to make sure she wasn't right -- which apparently she was, unless Todd really had a twin -- and to make sure McKay was okay -- which of course he wasn't, and now Sheppard was diving in after the scientist. Ronon vented his rage uselessly on the former Wraith, who only laughed and turned into a black cloud, the electric bolts passing harmlessly through it, mirroring the stormclouds overhead.

A bolt of lightning struck the city. Ronon's hair was too heavy to stand on end, but he could feel it try.

"We need to find a rope!" Teyla shouted.

Ronon nodded. He turned to look for one -- and tripped on a coil of black cable. He flashed Teyla a grin before gathering it up and carrying it to the edge.

There was no sign of Sheppard or Rodney.

Teyla grabbed one end of the cable and tied it to a metal brace, while Ronon lowered the cable into the water, praying to whoever would listen -- rogue Ascended Ancient, sea god, whalefish -- that he wouldn’t lose either of his friends today. If his hands shook, he wasn't ashamed to admit it might just as easily be from fear as from the frigid water that whipped about.

John's head broke the surface.

Rodney's head broke the surface.

The shaking in Ronon's hands now was relief, he was sure. He wept unabashedly, and knew Teyla was as well as she helped him haul the men out of the water, even if the rain did hide her tears.

**"This isn't over!** a dark voice said inside Ronon's mind, leaving him wanting to itch his brain. And with that, the Ascended Wraith was gone.

They weren't out of the woods yet though. McKay was like ice; so was Sheppard, but at least the colonel was moving. Breathing. Rodney was pale -- paler than usual? And his chest wasn't moving. None of him was.

Ronon would have given anything in that moment for McKay to open his big mouth and say something!

They rushed him indoors, stopping just inside, laying the man down as gently -- and quickly -- as they could. Sheppard tilted McKay's head back, pinching the man's nose closed and sealing his mouth over the scientist's, sharing breath. Ronon used his own breath to call for a medical team. Sheppard stopped, and Teyla began chest compressions. Sheppard felt for a pulse; Ronon noticed the colonel's hands shaking as much as his own still were. He knelt over McKay again, repeating the process with Teyla. They did it again. And again.

It didn't work. Ronon wanted to hit something.

Apparently, so did Sheppard.

The colonel slapped Rodney. When that didn't work, he grabbed the scientist by the shirt, hauling him upright and shaking him. "Dammit, Rodney! Don’t you dare die on me! YOU HEAR ME?" Sheppard's voice cracked with hysteria. "LIVE, DAMN YOU!! THAT’S AN ORDER!"

McKay obeyed, water bubbling forth from his lips before he inhaled a ragged breath. Sheppard gathered him into his arms, one hand cradling the back of the scientist's head, the other digging into the man's shoulder. McKay coughed into the colonel's shirt; Sheppard wept into the physicist's.

Teyla put her arms around both men. Ronon thought that seemed a good idea, and did the same from the other side, managing to encompass all three of them.

Ronon loved having long arms.

(* Todd is the name of the Wraith (the one who approached our heroes about the base code in the fourth-season ep "The Seer", and helped with the nanite coding in "Miller's Crossing") as given to him by Stargate producer Joe Mallozzi, in his blog. I think they're supposed to use it in the show eventually, but up until the writing of this, they haven't yet .... At any rate, I am a big fan of Todd!)

~ Epilogue: For Whom the Christmas Bells Toll~

Rodney felt like hell.

"Who would have guessed being dead would hurt so much?" he mused aloud, his voice like gravel.

"You're not dead."

Rodney's eyes snapped open. He saw Teyla and Ronon first, sleeping soundly on the hospital bed next to his, Ronon's arm draped protectively over Teyla's, and Teyla's hand grasping the big man's arm. Rodney smiled fondly at them, then turned over, towards the source of the voice. Sheppard was sitting in a chair on the other side of Rodney's own bed, a blanket draped around his shoulders. The man made hell-warmed-over look sexy as ... well, as hell. Not that Rodney spent a lot of time thinking about how sexy other men were, but really, in Sheppard's case it was a given, a simple law of nature, the way fire was bad and trees were pretty.

Okay, maybe he needed to stop watching Buffy.

The colonel was gazing at him tenderly, the way people did in romantic comedies. The way Katie had looked at Rodney, before she realised that he wasn't who she'd thought he was. The way Rodney expected John to look at sexy alien chicks.

Why was Sheppard looking at him like that?

Not that Rodney minded, exactly; in fact, he'd go as far as to say he liked it. Really, really liked it.

Suddenly Rodney understood why it pissed him off so much when Sheppard flirted with those alien chicks.

His heart stopped.

Well, okay, it didn't; the steady beep of the heart-monitor said otherwise. Hell, if anything, it said his pulse sped up a bit ....

Rodney wanted to tell John -- and he wanted to call him that, John -- how much he liked John looking at him like that, and please never stop, but what came out of his mouth was, "Why aren't I dead?"

John gave him a puzzled look. "Because I jumped in after you and fished you out!"

"But why?"

"Why what, Rodney? Did you think I'd let you drown?"

Rodney sat up -- or tried to, anyway, making it as far as propping himself up on his elbows. "Well, you should have!"

It took Sheppard three tries to get the sound out of his mouth so that he could ask an incredulous, high-pitched, "What?"

"Look ... I know I was probably having another hallucination--" Rodney began.

"Actually--"

"--but the conclusion reached was nonetheless a sensible one: the universe is better off without me."

He thought John could have looked more shocked if he had shot him. And then John looked really, really pissed.

"I'm not better off without you!" the colonel snapped.

"Yes," Rodney told him wearily, "you are. I get people killed. I'll get you killed. I couldn't live with that on my conscience."

"Oh, so you won't live at all, is that it?!"

Boy, the man could be really thick sometimes. "The needs of the many, Colonel."

John grabbed him by the front of his hospital gown, yanking him upright.

"Now you listen closely, McKay, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once: if you die on me, I'm gonna follow you to the damn afterlife and kick your ass!"

Rodney found that it was really hard to think of a retort with John's lips so close, but eventually he managed it. "Give me one good reason to stay," he whispered.

Ten hours earlier, John Sheppard had given Rodney McKay the Kiss of Life, and with it, his breath. This time, his kiss took Rodney's breath away.

~ * @ * ~

Rodney had been cleared to leave the infirmary for the Christmas party that evening. He sat now in a corner of the room, swaddled in blankets at his teammates' insistence. Once upon a time, Rodney would have felt alone and ignored in his corner, craving attention as he munched on hors d'oeuvres. Now he had almost more attention than he could bear, with everyone stopping by to see how he was doing and wish him a happy holiday. Once upon a time, he would have loved the attention. Well, he still did, but it was tempered with humility and gratitude.

John had explained about the Ascended Wraith (adding that it wasn't Todd who had ascended; the real Todd was alive and well, and once again free -- it was the least they could do). Rodney had, in turn, explained the final vision he's been shown. John, Teyla, Ronon, and even Keller and Sam (who had come to check on him frequently while he was still unconscious, Teyla told him, and wasn't the dark look that crossed John's features when she mentioned that just adorable?) listened attentively, touching an arm, a shoulder, a leg comfortingly whenever he had difficulty composing himself. Keller had decided that it wasn't the carob that had increased Rodney's dopamine levels, but rather the psychic assault on his mind. Ronon had asked the question Rodney was wondering himself, albeit far more succinctly than the physicist ever could: why hadn't the Ascended Wraith done more than just torment Rodney? Surely it had incredible powers, and could have gone on a killing spree through the city? Or, conversely, why hadn’t the Ascended Ancients prevented it from doing anything at all?

Sam postulated that, since the Wraith hadn't told Rodney anything he that didn’t already know (they figured the visions of the future were a bald-faced lie), and hadn't forced him to do anything against his will, perhaps they did not consider anything he did as rule-breaking. Daniel Jackson's Ascended guide, Oma Desala, had managed to break a few rules here and there after all, and Chaya, and Merlin, and Morgan Le Fay. And Anubis! And the Ori hadn't exactly poster-children for non-interference, although admittedly they'd had their numbers to back them up. At any rate, with any luck, the other Ancients would keep the Ascended Wraith in check from then on out.

The medication Keller had given Rodney helped with the suicidal urges (well, actually, John's kissing did a better job there), but he didn’t think he'd stop second-guessing his senses or jumping at shadows anytime soon (except, again, when John was kissing him).

Just as Rodney was beginning to wonder where Zelenka was, the Czech came bounding (bounding!) up, grinning like a maniac. "We found him! We found the boy!"

It took a moment for it to register that Radek was talking about the sickly boy from his vision, the one whose parents had mined the gases of a planet in Doranda's solar system. "How?" he asked when he'd recovered his wits. He wanted to know how Zelenka even knew about it as much as he wanted to know how the boy had been found. Happily, Zelenka was eager to oblige him on both counts.

"While you were out of it after your near-drowning, Teyla told me about the vision you had -- she wanted to know if there was some way to find the boy, in case that Wraith was telling the truth," he added quickly, clearly not wanting Teyla to get into trouble. "So I looked at the records we had of the readings we'd taken while out at Doranda, cross-referencing them with all other readings. I found a gas that is not so common most places, but was abundant on one planet in that system. So Major Lorne took a crew out to visit some of the populated worlds in nearby systems -- we figured they wouldn’t want to travel far -- and found a merchant who knew exactly who we were talking about! Better still, they were right in the area at the time!"

Radek then gestured towards Keller, who was across the room. She walked strangely; as she got closer and the crowd parted, Rodney saw that she was pushing a wheelchair.

The boy from Rodney's dream was smiling from ear to ear. Flanking Keller were his parents; his siblings trailed behind, taking in the sights of Atlantis and the Earthers with awe. Keller explained that the boy's illness could be treated with medicine made from (of all things) the Athosians' carob-like plant! She expected the boy would be right as rain in a month or so, fully cured. Rodney could only nod as the boy and his family thanked him, happy tears robbing him of speech.

Sam showed up then, with another surprise set of visitors: his sister, niece, and brother in law. "I told the IOA that we needed Jeannie's help, and that we couldn’t expect to get it at this time of year unless she could bring her family with her," Sam explained. It wasn't a total lie -- Rodney did still need help with the Replicator coding. Rodney also suspected Sam had strong-armed Woolsey a bit, a thought that left him infinitely cheered.

"Merry Christmas, Mer," Jeannie said, handing him a piece of paper.

It was an ultrasound photo.

Rodney gaped at her. She was beaming. He looked back at the photo; for her to be that far along, she would have had to have been pregnant before she was abducted.

Either his sister was psychic or she could just read him really well. "The baby is fine," she assured him. "In fact, the SGC's Dr Lam said that, if there were any complications at all before, it's likely that the nanites took care of them."

Rodney let out a sigh of relief. "I-is it a--"

"It's too early to tell the sex," she said, smiling affectionately as she tousled his hair.

Rodney noticed Caleb chatting with John, and for a moment, pictured them chatting in the Miller family kitchen at some holiday function. The thought made Rodney warmer than "hot carob". Madison was fast asleep in her daddy's arms, not a trace of feralness to her.

"I think we better put her to bed," Jeannie told her husband. "I'll be back in a bit," she told Rodney, kissing his forehead.

"Me too," John said. "Er, not to put the kid to bed; I need to go get something," he explained. Rodney was a little disappointed that his colonel didn’t kiss his head too.

Ronon was a godsend while Rodney waited, keeping the numbers of visitors to that corner of the room to a minimum in the interim simply by virtue of being big and scary-looking. Katie braved an encounter with the Satedan, and then Rodney himself. They wished each other well, the conversation awkward but ending, Rodney felt, with them at peace with one another. Sam stopped by again, and Rodney was shocked to realise that he didn’t feel even the slightest trace of his usual awkwardness around her. Being with John had erased any non-platonic interest he'd had in the woman, it seemed, in a way that Katie had never been able to. Lorne came next, and Rodney thanked him profusely for helping with the boy. And still others came, even with Ronon running interference. Some of them even sang him a bastardisation of a holiday carol that painted him as a hero. (He loved it, except for the reminder about John's Kirk-like tendencies.) As much as Rodney appreciated the overtures of friendship he was getting from the other expedition members, he now found himself wishing that every person who approached him was John instead.

And then, finally, one of them was.

"Merry Christmas!" John said, handing Rodney a piece of paper.

It was a list.

"Ways that Dr Rodney McKay, PhD, has Saved Countless Lives and Bettered Mankind," Rodney read aloud, laughing. As he read the list silently, he felt John's long fingers card through his hair, and leaned into the touch. There were a good many things on the list he had never even considered, each of them a much-needed reminder of the bright spots in his life, the good he'd done. Once upon a time, this sort of list would have inflated his ego into immeasurable proportions; now it simply brought his ego back to just the right size, proving to him that his life hadn't been a total disaster. It was the last entry that really drove the point home: Rodney gives John a reason to live.

Eyes burning, Rodney looked up at his best friend and cursed his own obliviousness. He noticed something then, dangling playfully over John's head. He shot a wary look around the mess hall, making sure no one was watching. The party revelers, he thought, were definitely too occupied to notice him bestowing a kiss on a certain Sheppard, under the mistletoe.

The sudden ringing of a hundred jingle bells around them -- punctuated by a whoop from Ronon -- said otherwise. They also said that the two men had nothing to fear for being discovered.

"'Attaboy, Clarence," Rodney whispered into John's mouth, then gave into his hunger.

"God bless us, every one," John said when they came up for air, then dove back in.

The bells rang long into the night. ~ Fin ~

(Author's note: in It's a Wonderful Life, they say that every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. Also, Rodney's last line here is from It's a Wonderful Life, while John's is from A Christmas Carol.

* Buffy once remarked after a major battle that all she seemed capable of thinking were simple thoughts like "Fire bad, tree pretty.")

Scrooge's Life, Bailey's Carol A Stargate Atlantis Fanfic by Wolfen Moondaughter

Scrooge's Life, Bailey's Carol
A Stargate Atlantis Fanfic by
Wolfen Moondaughter