Life in Miniature Motion

The full story of wee!John

By Kyizi

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all related items do not belong to me, only the stories and their related original ideas and characters are mine. No copyright infringement intended.

Rating: 12A/PG-13

Spoilers: This fic runs from somewhere in season three and then promptly disregards canon. It does, however, imply a knowledge of canon up to and including "Sunday".

Word Count: 30,670 words

Author Notes: This 'verse started out as nothing more than a number in a 'five things' fic and grew larger than I could ever have anticipated. I was writing so many snippets that it didn't take me long to realise that I wanted to tell the whole story. This was never really meant to be what it was, was never meant to take on a life of it's own, but it did and I'm very glad. I hope you all enjoy.

Please note that you can read this fic without reading the snippets, but there are references to some events that you might wonder at, simply because I don't go into them in too much detail here.

Please also note that this has NOT gone through a beta. Any and all mistakes are mine, please feel free to point them out and I'll possibly change things when my brain starts to function again.

~x~x~x~x~x~

It happens like this; John smiles a little too sweetly at the wrong woman (and Rodney's never sure there's a right woman when it comes to Sheppard), stands a little too close to a revered Ancient temple and suddenly they find themselves bound and gagged in a small basement room on a backwater planet with no hope of rescue for at least two days. Rodney thinks that, perhaps, their team shouldn't be allowed to handle trade negotiations. Teyla would argue that John, Rodney and Ronon should just not speak, but Rodney has so many issues with that idea that he wouldn't know where to start. Or, rather, where to stop.

They're there for one day and one very long night, stretched out on the floor as comfortably as they can be in a room that's smaller than the en suite in Rodney's sister's guest room; which is to say that he spends the entire time with Ronon's ass in his face and Teyla's head butting against his (shoeless) feet. He somehow finds a way to make his complaints known, even through the gag, but then he is a genius after all. Even if it does nothing to alter the situation.

On the morning after the longest night of his life Version 19.0 (and this one is surpassed by a surprising number of them; although he debates whether his prom night goes just above or just below this – there's nothing to be said for being four years younger than the rest of the graduating class), he and Sheppard are hauled up by the ropes binding their hands behind their backs. It's painful and Rodney tells his captors this. Repeatedly. But they do nothing more than get increasingly rough with him and he shuts up about three seconds before he's thrown into a hut and falls flat on his face.

It's at this point that he notices that Sheppard's not there and the extra gag they add doesn't stand a chance of shutting him up.

~x~x~x~x~x~

If Rodney McKay had realised that this was a defining moment in the upcoming three years of his life, he might have taken a moment to pay a little more attention to what the idiotic locals were telling him. Instead he rants, he raves and he generally insults every village elder, every deity they've ever known, the kids who're likely grow up to be village elders and everyone else in between. He even throws in the goat-like creatures they passed on the way into the village, just for good measure.

It's only when he, Ronon and Teyla are being dropped off at the 'Gate with a screaming child that Rodney thinks he might have missed something along the way.

~x~x~x~x~x~

"What do you mean this is Colonel Sheppard?"

"I don't know how you expect me to be more clear than that, Rodney. Our tests conclude that that wee boy is the Colonel."

Elizabeth takes a deep breath and lets out a resigned sigh. It's a credit to just how fucked up their lives in Pegasus are, Rodney thinks, that she's barely batting an eye at the situation. "Rodney, did the villagers say anything that might indicate how they did this, or even why?"

"Oh, yes, while we were being bound and gagged, they left the instruction manual and the secret diary of their insane plans out for me to look at!"

"Rodney."

He lets out a huff of irritation. "I don't know. It's…possible I might have missed something they were saying, but they were unwashed, uneducated morons, so I'm sorry if I chose to ignore them after they kidnapped us and locked us in a basement."

"Can you fix it?" Elizabeth asks, ignoring his ranting and he's not sure if she's talking to him or Carson until the Scot answers.

"There's nothing more I can tell without further scans, but he seems to be a healthy wee boy. I'd say about two or three years old. I'm not really sure there's anything I could do without knowing what caused this."

"Do you have any idea what the machine looked like?" Elizabeth asks and Rodney barely manages to bite his tongue.

In fact he doesn't. "What part of 'we were dropped off at the 'gate with it and held at spear point until we left', was unclear?"

"Rodney," Elizabeth says and she's using her serious voice. Rodney rolls his eyes as she turns back to Carson. "Other than his age, there's nothing wrong with him?"

"Not that I can tell and we've run every scan I can think of. He's maybe a bit undernourished, but I'd guess that's no different to the rest of his team. He should eat and maybe run off a wee bit of energy before bed. Other than that, it's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

Elizabeth nods. "Okay, I'm going to re-establish contact and see if I can't negotiate for whatever did this. Until then-"

"Why can't we just go back with bigger guns?" Ronon asks and, for once, Rodney's in complete agreement with the man. Shooting the bastards actually sounds therapeutic.

Elizabeth doesn't seem to agree. "I don't think that's the best way to start planetary relations with possible trading partners."

"Trading partners? Are you insane?"

"Rodney, they have-"

"They turned Sheppard into a kid! A goofy looking kid with crazy hair and big eyes that does nothing but scream and cry. What could they possibly have for negotiations?"

"Well, I hear it tastes like coffee."

"Oh, well that's…I don't care!" And, okay, so he does, but does Elizabeth actually think he's that shallow? He shakes his head, feeling more hurt than he might have thought he would, but possibly less than he ought.

There's a tug on the bottom of his uniform and he turns both ways before he realises it's coming from below. When he looks down, he tries to keep the look of discomfort and sheer terror from his face.

"Um…hello…little boy."

"John," the boy says slowly, pointing to himself and treating Rodney like a brain damaged ferret. "What's you' name?"

And, oh god, this is Sheppard and he has no idea who Rodney is.

"I'm…you really don't know who I am?" Although even he's not sure why the boy – Sheppard, damn it – would. He's been turned into a child and, Rodney's lack of paternal instinct aside, it's clear that he's regressed back to an age where clearly they didn't know each other.

"A' you my fend?"

"Am I your what?" Rodney asks, wondering if the aliens programmed another language into the boy's head, because he knows that two- and three-year-olds can speak just fine, even if they have little of intelligence to say.

"You' fend."

"Rodney," Elizabeth says with an indulgent smile. "He wants to know if you're his friend."

"Oh," Rodney clears his throat and looks at the kid, frowning. "Eh, yes, I suppose I am."

"I'm fwee."

Rodney pats little Sheppard's head in a way he thinks is reassuring, but really isn't. "Yes, yes, we rescued you."

When the boy frowns, Elizabeth crouches to his eyelevel and he shrinks behind Rodney's legs. "Are you three, John?" she asks and the light bulb goes off above Rodney's head. "Is that what you're telling us?"

The boy looks up at Rodney, as if asking for permission and Rodney nods. He's a little confused, but he's smart enough to know he doesn't want the screaming to start again.

John nods. "I'm fwee and I'm John. Who's you?"

"I'm Elizabeth."

"Litzabit, Litzbit…Lizbet?" John fumbles and Rodney smiles at him for the first time. He thinks he might have laughed, too, if the look on the three-year-old's face didn't look so painfully familiar.

"Not quite, but it'll do," Elizabeth says.

John tugs at Rodney's uniform again and pokes him in the stomach. "Name."

"Oh, I like that, she gets a question, I get a demand."

"Name, peese."

"Yes, because being polite is so taxing." The boy just glares. "Rodney," he says with a resigned sigh.

"Wodney?" John asks.

"Rrrodney."

The boy nods. "Wodney."

And, yes, trust him to have a name that starts with the one letter the boy can't say. He glares at Elizabeth and the others, just daring them to say anything, almost wishing one of them actually would laugh, because he's got a lot of anger bubbling under the surface and even he's not about to aim that at the three-year-old at his knees. And, oh God, Sheppard's three years old.

He tunes out what the others are saying, barely notes that both Teyla and Ronon are re-introducing themselves to the Colonel, because the only words he can hear are the ones flailing about in his head like dying fish.

Who the hell is going to save them now?

~x~x~x~x~x~

The debriefing is, in a word, painful. Rodney's lost count of the number of times he's wanted to bang his head against the table in the hopes that it actually would cause him damage just so he could get the hell out of the room. Elizabeth is asking the same questions over and over, as if she's expecting Rodney to suddenly say, 'Wow, I'm so stupid, I've just remembered that the village elders actually gave me a training course on how to turn the Colonel back to normal. I'll have him fixed by bed time' and Carson…well, he tunes out what Carson's going to say before the Scot even starts to speak, because he really doesn't need to know what's going on with the boy's three-year-old bowel movements, or whether or not the brat has head lice.

That last thought has him looking rather alarmed at the crop of messy hair that's brushing against his chin. He's uncomfortably aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do, but it wasn't really like he'd had much choice in the matter; the moment he'd sat down, the boy had finally let go of his leg and Rodney had barely let out his sigh of relief when the kid had clamboured onto his lap, wrapped himself around Rodney's torso like a limpet and conked out the second his head hit Rodney's shoulder. He figures the only thing that saved him from being mocked and laughed at was the pathetic, wide eyed expression of fear on his face. He's gradually relaxed by degrees, but every time the kid makes a noise or moves he's convinced the world's about to end, just to complete this cosmic joke.

"Rodney!"

He jumps a little, wincing when the boy at his shoulder moves. He glares at Elizabeth as the kid settles again and then lets out an irritated huff. "What?"

"I said that I'm going to send Lorne's team through the 'Gate to Alekesh tomorrow. See if we can sort this out. I think it might be best if you three didn't go back at this stage. It's-"

"Wait a second, tomorrow?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes, Rodney, tomorrow. It's the middle of the night on the planet and I think it would be best if we didn't turn up armed while they're sleeping."

"Are you kidding? That's exactly what we should do!" Rodney's voice is so shrill, he just knows that he's woken the boy up, but that doesn't stop him from continuing. "Why aren't we storming the castle? Breaking down the hatches, or…whatever the hell we have to do to turn him back to normal?"

"Rodney!"

Elizabeth's voice isn't enough to stop him, but the sniffle right by his ear is. Alarmed, he looks down at the kid, wide-eyed.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, don't cry!" he pleads and tries a smile. He knows he's failed even before he sees the comically confused look on the boy's face. At least his reaction seems to have staved off the crying.

"Rodney, my decision is final." Elizabeth says, taking advantage of his distraction. "Now I expect you to accommodate for the Colonel for the time being. Dismissed." And she leaves the room before he has so much as a moment to figure out how to stop her.

"Wodney?"

Brought back to the situation at hand, Rodney glances at the boy, looks around the room just in time to see Ronon's smirk and Teyla's smile (he just knows she's laughing at him on the inside) as they slip out of the room. Leaving him alone with Colonel Shorty, who's currently blinking up at him with eyes that, damnit, should not be that appealingly innocent. Rodney reminds himself that he hates kids once more, just to make him feel better, before reassuring himself that he's a genius and he can totally handle this.

"Wodney, we go pay now?"

"Pay?" He frowns, takes a second to try and access some semblance of three-year-old-translator that might be lurking in is mind and comes up with only one possible solution. "Geniuses don't play."

John just looks at him in a way that's painfully familiar and drawls, "Wod-ney."

"This is just so wrong," he mumbles and stands up, remembering at the last moment to keep hold of the kid before it tumbles to the ground. His mind is whirling off in a million and one different directions which, to be fair, isn't really that different to his usual mental state. The difference is that, this time, all those directions have the same focus and how typical, Rodney thinks, that it would be Colonel John Sheppard that finally gets his brain focussed on the one topic, without even the smallest portion of his mind wondering how to improve the output of the power regulators on level thirteen, or the incorrect equations Kavanagh had been scrawling all over the lab's whiteboards before he'd gone on the mission to Alekesh and had that really only been 21 hours ago?

He swings into the corridor leading to the military personnel quarters without even thinking and it isn't until he's already palmed open the door to Sheppard's empty quarters that he realises what he's doing. He freezes in the doorway, only peripherally aware that the boy in his arms is craning his neck to see into the room, and Rodney doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do next. That in and of itself is enough to almost send him into a tailspin of panic; he always knows what to do and in those rare moments when he doesn't, Sheppard takes up the slack.

They're so doomed.

He takes a deep breath and steps back from the room, letting the door slide shut. The boy seems to realise that staying quiet is the way to go here and Rodney's internally grateful that that particular trait of Sheppard's is still there, regardless of age.

"Okay, okay, okay," he mumbles to himself. This is one of the times that he definitely doesn't know what to do. It's not a mechanical, mathematical, physical, or astronomical fault (not until he can get his hands on that machine, or whatever they used, anyway), so this really isn't his area. Usually, this is where Sheppard swaggers in and suggests something to take the problem out of his hands while he thinks, or else its life threatening and he has no choice but to think. He feels a ball of panic start to roll around in his stomach and tendrils of it snatch up his wind pipe like grabby little fingers. He can't seem to breathe properly and he seriously does not need to panic right now.

Something in his mind suddenly clicks. He turns and walks a few paces down the corridor, palms open the door and storms into the room. He barely registers that Lorne's room is a mess, doesn't stop to process the fact that a few minutes earlier and he could have literally walked in on the Major with his pants down, and holds out the boy by the armpits, all but throwing him at the man.

"Major, meet the new Colonel Sheppard. Bond, or... something. Just keep it occupied and don't bring it back for at least seven hours!"

He pushes the boy into Lorne's arms and storms out the door, holding his breath for a moment and trying not to analyse why he lurks in the hallway to make sure he hasn't just made the situation a whole lot worse.

"Sheppard," he hears Lorne say in that same even 'nothing can phase me' military voice that the Colonel uses all the time.

"John," the boy responds and suddenly Rodney can breathe again.

He doesn't wait around any longer. He heads straight for his lab and the look on his face, he hopes, seems violent enough that no one bothers to stop him along the way. In fact two marines physically flatten themselves against the wall to let him pass and that's when he realises that, yes, he's pissed off. At Sheppard. Because, damn it, the man seems to draw in trouble like he has some kind of magnetic attraction to it. He might as well hold up a flashing neon sign that says 'Looking for Trouble' in a universally spoken language. Maybe mathematics, Rodney thinks, momentarily side tracked, but then the knowledge that Sheppard would have got that makes him ache a little.

He storms into the lab, startling Kusanagi and Walters – who look like they need startling so they can get back to work – and heads straight to his desk. There's an almost deafening silence in the room, that's pressing on him more than the roiling ball of panic that's now moved upwards and is clutched inside his chest. By the time Zelenka actually approaches his desk he's mentally decapitated half his science team.

"What?" he barks, before the Czech can say a word.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Rodney asks, keeping his voice steady and hoping that will somehow keep him sane.

"About…Colonel Sheppard."

"You mean that he's physically reverted to his mental age? Yes, it's true. Now get back to work."

He expects increased whispering and stolen speculative glances and is surprised instead to see Zelenka's hand hover near his shoulder for a moment, before the Czech lets out a breath, nods and returns to his desk. He sees the smirk on Kavanagh's face, but he really doesn't expect the sympathy on everyone else's. Somehow, that makes him feel so much worse.

~x~x~x~x~x~

Rodney isn't sure what time it is when he finally notices he's not alone, but he holds out a hand expectantly for the cup of coffee that Sheppard usually brings with him. When his hand is still empty a moment later, he frowns, but it doesn't come flooding back until the silence is broken.

"Doctor McKay?"

He whirls around so fast he almost falls off his chair, but stands quickly and nods before the Major can comment. The man's standing in the doorway with a sleeping child in his arms and Rodney takes a moment to study the messy tuft of hair sticking up from the man's shoulder. He wonders what it means that it's that more than anything, even Carson's tests, that convinces him that the boy really is Sheppard and that the man isn't suddenly going to come through the 'gate demanding to know why the hell they left him behind.

"I didn't want to disturb you, but I didn't know what to do with him. We're moving out in about six hours and-"

"No, no, I…well, yes."

There's an awkward moment where they try to work out how to get the boy from Lorne's arms to Rodney's – even though Rodney really doesn't want to take him – and, somehow he gets the odd feeling that the other man doesn't want to let him go. It takes longer than Rodney thinks it should for an Air Force Major and a genius with two Phd's to exchange a child.

"I…" Lorne winces and runs a hand through his hair. "This is kinda messed up," he finishes, looking distinctly uncomfortable and, oh God, Rodney really wants him to stop talking.

"Really, Major, I hadn't noticed." The man sighs and Rodney suddenly feels like a total heel.

"Look, I just…we'll get him back."

"I'm a genius," Rodney says and knows that Lorne understands that he's saying 'of course we will' and somehow thinks that maybe the Major even understands something that only Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon would normally hear; the words 'I really need you to believe that we will, so that I can believe it'.

The man nods and heads to the doorway, calling back over his shoulder. "I'll fill you in as soon as we get back."

"Just don't flirt with anything and stay away from their stupid temple."

Lorne chuckles and nods. "Will do, Doc. Will do."

And suddenly Rodney's once again left alone with a three-year-old and no idea what he's meant to do next.

~x~x~x~x~x~

The next morning, Rodney figures out he got off lightly the night before. Getting the kid into an oversized t-shirt and jury-rigging a tiny bed out of a drawer, two pillows and a couple of clean sheets was as easy as reconfiguring a DHD compared with being jumped on at six am by a hyped up little boy who looks rather demented and unable to contain far more excitement than is acceptable at this time of the morning.

"Wodney! Wodney! Wodney! Wake up!"

"Like you're giving me any choice!" he growls, lifting the kid off his ribcage in the hopes that the bruises won't actually end up covering his entire torso.

"Look!" John cries and then scrunches up his face.

Suddenly the entire room lights up in neon bright colours, like lights at an eighties disco, all the windows roll up into the ceiling letting in the freezing cold morning air and light, airy elevator music blasts out around them, making him drop the boy. Unfortunately, the boy lands on him.

"Turn it off!" he cries and as suddenly as it all started it stops. Well, the windows remain open, but the wobbling lower lip and the wet, blinking eyes in front of him are suddenly causing more distress than the thought of pneumonia. "Don't cry," he orders, going for a different tact, and, after a moment, the child sniffs and nods.

"Bweakfast," he says decidedly and elbows Rodney's already-bruised ribs in an attempt to get off the bed.

"Coffee," Rodney says wistfully and the thought is enough to get him up, too. The mess in his room, however, stops him short. "What did you do? Was there a tornado in here this morning?"

The kid grins unrepentantly and nods. "Yup! Huwicane John!"

Rodney actually whimpers and considers falling back into bed in the hopes that, the next time he wakes up, it'll all be a dream. The shout of, "Wodney! Bweakfast!" is enough to remind him that fate doesn't really like him that much.

~x~x~x~x~x~

"Will you take it today?"

Teyla raises her eyebrows and glares at him simultaneously and he's never really worked out (a) how she does it – it has to be a physical anomaly – or (b) how she always manages to make him feel worse than his grandmother ever had.

"I do not believe that would be in John's best interests."

"Why not?"

She sighs and, again, it's like the ghost of Nana McKay is at the table with him. "Because I believe it would be best for you both to spend some time together. He is still John Sheppard."

At his name, the little head next to him looks up. Rodney's as appalled by the oatmeal mess on his face as Ronon is impressed. Without thinking, he picks up one of the napkins, cups the back of the kid's head with one hand and scrubs the boy's face with the other. He figures maybe he should have brought a towel and wonders how the boy managed to get more food on his face than he got in his mouth.

When he puts the napkin down, John's glaring at him and the entire mess hall is silent. Rodney had thought it bad enough when he'd walked in the door with the overexcited toddler; John had bounced in and run around all the tables as if he was in some kind of garden maze until Rodney had yelled at him to 'get back here' before he killed himself. It had been like living behind the wrong side of the glass in a zoo and it wasn't until he'd sat down at the usual team table with Teyla and Ronon that noise levels had started up again.

Rodney looks around the room and glares until everyone looks away and starts talking. The voices are hushed and he has no doubt as to what the topic is, but then he also knows that it's unlikely they weren't already talking about it anyway.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Ronon says suddenly. "Lorne's team will be back in a few hours. Besides, Sheppard's been hit worse than this before."

"John," the boy suddenly says, irritated.

"Sorry, kid," Ronon says and he seems appeased.

But Rodney isn't. The boy isn't Sheppard and he really doesn't know what to do about it.

~x~x~x~x~x~

End of Part One