Well, here it is. Chapter 20. Standing ovation to my betas for not letting me get away with anything. Enjoy.

Cynical Soldier

Chapter 20 Iss2

The next morning everyone found an excuse to join Rodney for breakfast. All of them were talking about the past, each testing Rodney's memory in their own way and feeling better when they found it still there, though there was an uncomfortable edge to the conversation.

Was the drug still in his system? How little was needed to still cause a mutation?

All were only too aware that Carson wasn't there, and why. Everyone kept glancing towards the science labs, waiting for him to show, waiting for answers. Was Rodney safe yet?

Conversation was stilted, with everyone distracted by their own thoughts and fears. Each person was here because if the drug did mutate then they wanted to get their fill of Rodney McKay before he faded away, drink in every syllable, every nuance that made him who he was. Something more to remember after he was gone and someone else walked around with his body, his face, and his name.

Most of them were thinking of the last time they were here, when Rodney had been accelerated to a semi-ascended being. He had been returned to them at the eleventh hour by a miracle save, actually more like the thirteenth hour, but saved nonetheless.

The Atlantis expedition had its fair share of eleventh hour saves, but then again it had a high ratio of near death experiences too. A lot of the saves had been luck, a chance comment leading genius synapses to a solution, a lucky discovery saving the day. They probably had more than their quota of miracles – but that didn't stop everyone praying for one more.

Ronon stilled. Teyla, John and Rodney recognised Ronon at alert and followed his gaze to find Carson walking across the infirmary. Elizabeth and Radek turned to see what had captured their attention, as Carson reached the bed with a smile, "Morning all." He turned to Rodney, "I've got your results. Would you prefer to hear this privately or shall I tell you now?"

Rodney's eyes flicked nervously over the group, "I'd like to be alone," he crossed his arms, lifting his chin, prepared for an argument that his eyes said he wasn't ready for.

Carson turned to the rest of them, "If you would move to the waiting room, I'll be with you shortly." When they didn't move immediately, Carson glared at them. They all nodded guiltily and made their way out. Sheppard gave a last look over his shoulder, as he reluctantly followed them. Carson waited till they had left completely before turning back to Rodney. He smiled as he took a seat next to the bed, "Right, I've got the results from the…"

"Carson! Just tell me," the emotion in his words threatening to break them if it wasn't for the underlying anger fortifying them. His voice fell, sounding small and vulnerable as he asked hesitantly, "Is it still there?"

Carson smiled, as he shook his head, "No. Your blood works from last night are clean. The chemical has been completely eradicated from your system."

Rodney went from tense and taut to boneless as he sagged in relief. "Thank God," he gasped as he fell back against the pillows. He gave a half laugh before the tears started, deep gasps accompanied them as he tried to compose himself. His voice small and raw as he tried to explain, "I thought… I would just fade away… that I'd lose all this, lose me. Oh God. I can't believe I'm crying," he raised a hand to his eyes, trying to scrub them dry.

Carson looked on fondly, "It's understandable, Rodney. Sometimes we don't know what we're holding inside until the time has passed. You've been through a lot." He stood up as he continued, "Would you like to tell the others or would you prefer it if I did?"

Rodney looked at him hesitantly, "Would you tell them, I just…" he tailed off, hands waving, unable to find the words as his emotions still overwhelmed him.

Carson patted his arm, "I'll tell them."

"You won't tell them I cried will you?" Rodney asked suspiciously, although he sounded almost resigned to the fact that Carson would.

Carson chuckled, "Consider it doctor patient confidentiality. I'm going to put the rest out of their misery and give you a chance to get your head around the news. I'll be back later. We still have to discuss the rest of your recovery. Your heart is still weak and we need to take things slowly, but you should be fine if you don't push yourself." Rodney nodded as Carson moved away.

The minute the doctor moved into the waiting room the tension amplified instantly, the air turning thick as molasses. Each of them had been deep in their own thoughts, but now they stood to attention, some stepping forward eager to know, others hanging back hesitant of the news he might carry. He told them Rodney was clear of the drug and the relief was palpable. He told them about Rodney's recovery, knowing that they would ensure he got the rest he needed no matter how sneaky and stubborn Rodney would be. They would not risk losing him after coming so close. Smiles and relieved sighs filled the room, each looking to each other with bright eyes. It had been a rough week for everyone.

As the others shared their relief, Elizabeth radioed the control room with the news, asking Chuck to notify the department heads, reminding everyone in the process that they were not the only ones eager to know. There were many members of the expedition that had been waiting throughout Atlantis with baited breath to hear about the man they had come to respect and cherish, even if they still wanted to strangle him on occasion. The rumour mill would ensure the good news travelled fast and Atlantis would breathe a little easier today.

Carson waited until Elizabeth had turned off her radio before addressing her, "I'm also going to ask Heightmeyer to organise scheduled sessions that will be obligatory for an initial period. He will try everything to get out of it, so be warned."

He turned back to the others, addressing them all, "No one will be allowed back until authorised visiting times." He raised a hand, forestalling their protests, "it's only for a couple of days. Rodney should be released in a day or two, all being well, but it's important he get as much rest as possible." He then told them that he was returning to Rodney to discuss his ongoing treatment and he wanted sometime to go over any questions Rodney might have, as well as do some final checks he needed to do to be sure that all the memories had returned, assuring them that he expected them to be intact.

He said his goodbyes, turned and left, but was caught short by Sheppard's hand on his arm just outside the room. "Thank you, Carson."

The doctor cut a sideways look at him and shrugged, "It still feels like I fixed my own mistake. It's hard to take credit for that."

"I was just thinking that you fixed my mistake," John said. "You did everything you could, and it was your cure that fixed it." He gave a half conciliatory shrug, "yeah, it would have been better to test it first and yeah, it could have gone horribly wrong, but it didn't. You created a cure that worked and you never let him go. Thank you, Carson."

Carson nodded before he responded, feeling some of the tension ease at Sheppard's words, hearing the logic of them, and maybe, eventually, he might even believe them. "Maybe, Rodney isn't the only one that needs to recover. Maybe, it's something we all need?"

Sheppard smiled his trademark smirk and nodded, "Maybe," and Carson hadn't realised till now how long it had been since he'd seen that boyish smirk, the real one anyway.

Carson returned the smile, "I'd best get back to Rodney."

"How is he?" Sheppard asked tentatively.

"He's a little overwhelmed but he's going to be just fine, Colonel." Carson nodded, smiling as he walked back to Rodney. He found him staring into space, obviously caught up in his own thoughts, the tears now dry, a half smile on his face that he couldn't seem to remove and a happy joy in his eyes. Carson smiled, full of understanding and feeling the same. At last, Rodney was back.

He sat on the same chair he had vacated a short while ago. "How you doing, Rodney?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?" He snarked, too relieved and full of joy to coat it in his normal level of sarcasm.

"Fine, you're doing just fine, lad."

"You trained on sheep, what do you know? Do I look like a sheep to you?" Rodney grinned.

Carson shook his head, smirking indulgently "For the last time, Rodney. You know full well where I got my degree and you know sheep were not involved in anyway. Unlike you and your internet degrees. They're gonna catch onto you eventually you know."

Rodney gave a half laugh. He cut a sideways look at Carson turning serious and self-conscious. "Thank you, Carson. I should have said it sooner. Thank you."

Carson nodded, "Just doing my job… lamb chop."

Rodney pointed at him. "Don't go giving me any of your pet names just because you haven't found any willing sheep in the Pegasus galaxy yet."

Carson chortled, "I give up." He looked at Rodney, turning serious, "We still have some more things to discuss." Rodney seemed to sober up quickly, good feelings fading away behind a nervous tension. "I'm setting up obligatory sessions with Heightmeyer for an undisclosed period."

"I knew it!" Rodney's trademark snap made it back into his tones, "I knew you'd make me see her. I'm okay, Carson, I don't need to see her, or hear her prattle on about why I dream of whales."

"You were kidnapped, tortured, brainwashed, lost your identity, have taken lives and have nearly died four times during your return. It is automatic procedure for any of those, the fact you have experienced all of them means this is not up for discussion. You will see her, and you will not be allowed to return to work until after your first session."

"What!?"

"You heard me, Rodney. You don't go to your sessions, then you don't go to your lab, simple as that, lad. Nothing you can say will change my mind and there is no way around it. I have already spoken to Elizabeth so don't even think about circumventing me. Just get used to the idea."

Rodney glared at him and that was definitely back to full power, "I hate you."

Carson smiled. "Yes, I love you too. Still gonna happen, lad." Carson had learnt that the only way to deal with Rodney when you were serious was to use his own tactics against him and just steamroll ahead and ignore him. "Now, we need to discuss your heart. It's been put under a lot of stress, Rodney. It is very important that it is allowed to regain its strength. This means that you have to follow a strict diet for at least the next month. You will only be allowed back to the labs on half days for the first two weeks after your convalescence, and only back to full days when I say you're ready. And I want to see you in here every three days for a check up until I say otherwise."

Rodney slumped back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling, "Oh God, kill me now," he breathed, a hand over his eyes.

"Don't even…" Carson trailed off, unable to form words weighted down with the raw emotion of too many days filled with too much pain and loss.

Rodney jerked upright, hand falling from his face to show eyes full of surprise, quickly filling with guilt. "Sorry, Carson. I wasn't thinking… Sorry."

"You're alive, Rodney. Anything now is a small price to pay for that. Just please do what's needed to get better. Is a month really that much to sacrifice for the rest of your life? Just do it." Carson sounded so tired, and it seemed to remind Rodney that a mere thank you just didn't do justice to the things he owed Carson for.

"Okay." Simple, one word that said so much more. Carson looked up at him suspiciously; disbelieving that Rodney would capitulate so quickly. Rodney just shrugged at him.

Carson gave a deep happy sigh. "Good. That's good, Rodney. You'll be right in no time, you'll see."

And he was. Rodney was released from the infirmary within two days and his recovery was remarkably quick, although each day seemed a lifetime to Rodney and those around him. They were overjoyed that he was alive and getting better each day, but still tentative that something else might take him away. Having experienced so many ups and downs, they all found it hard to believe that it was over; that it was only his strength he had to regain.

They all stood a little too close, without even realising it. It seemed to take people longer than usual to get mad at him, and Rodney was sure someone had issued a memo without copying him on it. People he didn't even know the name of would remind him of his stamina if he wandered to far from his usual paths, and people would bring him food if he didn't make it to the mess hall and yeah, okay, he wished that memo had been sent a long time ago because that was a godsend.

He wished he could abuse it, but he knew why they were doing it and he just felt guilty that he had made someone worry about him again. Whenever he tried to get into a good rant, people would just remind him of his heart condition and capitulate – it was infuriating. He ranted at Carson and Sheppard instead, but it wasn't the same when they just nodded and smiled back, carrying on as if he was discussing the weather.

In fact, Sheppard seemed to get some sort of cheap thrill out of it, always smirking throughout. Rodney remembered thinking, when he wasn't himself, that Sheppard was a little odd. He was starting to think he was on to something there. At least he was looking better though. The dark rings faded from under his eyes, nervous tension slowly evaporating as he eased back to his usual inhuman laxity. He watched Rodney constantly, as they all did, each waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Smiles eventually returned to their faces, sleep returned to their nights. They stopped rushing to breakfast to assure that he would be there, be okay. Slowly, they allowed him to find his own way to his quarters and his own way to the mess hall and slowly they returned to a semblance of what they were before, with maybe a greater respect for what Rodney McKay had become to all of them.

Everything slowly returned to normal, and then his team saw the other shoe drop. The first time it happened, they were off world, just when everyone was starting to forget and the pain of those three months had dulled. They found themselves under attack by narrow-minded natives who wanted their weapons and Rodney for themselves.

His team were disarmed. Sheppard raised his hands, "Now, there is still time to reconsider. More of our people will come and they will not be so easy to take. We can still be friends." He cast a nervous look over to Rodney who had been separated from them, curled in on himself in fear. Both Teyla and Ronon were behind him, straining to reach Rodney, to protect him.

Rodney was pushed into a corner, and instinct replaced reason as his subconscious found its own escape route, striving for survival whatever the cost. Unused synapses crackled into life, and the faces of their enemies changed from disregard to fear as they watched this scientist, considered the least dangerous of the group and left unguarded, morph from a man who trembled in fear and protected by others to a man who moved with quiet determination and skill, who needed protection from no one.

He straightened up, tall and sure as he spoke with a sneer, "You should have listened." His eyes dulled and then he moved; wound himself around them like silk in the wind, graceful and fluid and beautiful, like a dance. He moved amongst them taking their own weapons from them so smoothly it was like they materialised in his hands and their enemies fell at his feet. It was frightening and awe inspiring to watch. Many of the natives were unable to take their eyes off him until it was too late and he claimed them in his dance, leaving them to fall in his wake, discarded and dead. His team watched, terrified that they might lose him to a lucky strike by one of the natives as they tried to fight their way to him.

When they were free, when everyone but they stood, Rodney stopped and looked at the devastation around him. He dropped the weapon, looking at his hands as if wondering how to remove them from himself. He was shaking when his team approached him hesitantly, "Rodney?" Sheppard said softly, trying to make eye contact, reaching out slowly, a little afraid that even they were not safe from this man they didn't recognise.

Rodney looked at him, heartbreaking confusion in his eyes, body trembling in shock, "I didn't… it wasn't me… I… I killed them all." His team rushed him back to Carson, terrified that the chemical had hidden somewhere, biding its time and was now back with a vengeance. The results said that the chemical was still absent and everyone spent days on tenderhooks, waiting for something else to happen. There were no additional signs, until Rodney was in danger again and they learnt that this was his subconscious which would only materialise in life and death situations.

And they nearly learnt the hard way that it was not something to be relied on to happen every time. It seemed that if Rodney was alone, he depended on his team to rescue him, trusted them over the instinct inside. It was only if there was no other avenue, if he was the only hope that his subconscious materialised.

He had learnt these moves and Rodney McKay didn't need a chemical to retain information. His mind had soaked up the new data but Rodney himself would never access it, fear kept him from using it. Fear that if he opened the door to the part of who he was, he may not be able to close it again. In science you learnt early on to be wary of which doors you opened. No one commented on it, no one knew how to and Rodney would not discuss it further, shutting down anybody who tried.

Even though it had saved his life and those of his team mates on occasion, Rodney and everyone of his team would scrub it from his mind if they could. The act was always a stark reminder that they had lost him, that things had happened to him that they could not take back, that he was not quite the man he used to be and that deep down inside him, another man still lived.

So, they ignored it as best they could and tried to help Rodney through the guilt trips that always came afterwards, and the dreams. Guilt for the blood on his hands and anger that something alien to him and out of his control, something inside of him had killed with his hands. They tried to overcompensate, tried to make everything else as normal as they could, affected the things they could change and ignored the things they couldn't.

They returned to movie nights, eating together and if Rodney still couldn't beat them during their sparring sessions, when his mind refused to lose itself to its subconscious, no one said anything. They moved on and took refuge in the fact that Rodney walked amongst them still and never seemed to stop reminding themselves, through small touches here and there that they didn't even seem aware off. As if their own subconscious needed to check, even years afterwards, they still needed to know he was there, within reach, alive because the alternative was too painful to comprehend.

But they found a happy medium. Rodney was back with them, back where he belonged, whatever the cost.

*******************************

As for Rodney, he never told them the contents of the dreams, about the fear that one day he might not be able to push it back down, that one day this thing inside might kill indiscriminately and he would wake to find his friends at his feet at the end of the dance. The next day he always found himself standing a little too close to them instead or finding excuses to find them, be with them throughout the day. He found those days hard, carrying a fear with him that never quite went away.

But most days he still found it hard to believe that he had all this. He remembered when he was that other man, 'hidden' as Teyla refers to it. He remembers how envious he had felt towards the man they all took him for, the man he is now, and how very deeply he coveted this position. That he had these friends, who loved him, really loved him and cared for him, who would go to extraordinary lengths to protect him. Not because he was an asset to them, but because of him. Once upon a time he would have given the world for that alone, to add Atlantis into the mix made him feel unworthy.

This beautiful place that embraced him and hummed quietly and comfortably in the back of his mind, that whispered home to his very soul and surrounded him with friends who meant everything and more to him, who allowed him to be himself. He felt as though he was the luckiest man alive and sometimes he worried about what price he would have to pay for such luck and sometimes he thought that the fact he was now a killer was the price to be exacted, a price to carry for the rest of his life, and mostly he knew whatever it was, he would pay it gladly.

He had seen his life through the eyes of another, and he knew he had it good. No one and nothing could be better than here and now and these people surrounding him. Finally, he was back, not quite the man he was before, but close enough to be home, close enough to be happy.

THE END.

Authors note:

I know some of you wanted more twists but quite frankly real life is intruding too much at the moment so who knows, I may be back later to write a tag or rewrite to stretch it out further. Regardless, the show is over and the curtain has fallen. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for all your comments which always make my day. Till the next time. Bye bye and thanks for reading.
Mirthxx