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Twenty-four hours had passed before Rodney watched as John let out a low shout of frustration, clamp his hands over his ears like a petulant child and smack his forehead against the door controls, the bulk head doors sliding shut with a resounding thunk between them.
Kavanagh and Lee had looked momentarily disturbed by the outburst but Rodney had just stared a little dejectedly at his lap, a bit surprised that Sheppard had lasted that long. But that had been nearly five days ago, he thinks. Time seems to pass differently when trapped in the back of a puddle jumper, but he much prefers hanging in the void between two galaxies than beneath the crushing weight of an ocean struggling to seep its way in.
Five days ago he thought he’d lost John. He’s not sure why this time feels so much different than the hundreds that have come before it. John makes it a habit to get in (and out) of the stickiest of situations, and there have been times when Rodney felt a different sort of crushing weight, of loss and despair, but John had always managed to wheedle his way out, usually with a cocksure grin and a shrug of his shoulders like it’s no big deal. He’s like a cat, the nine lives of John Sheppard, but sometimes Rodney feels like he must be winding down to the last few.
This time…it had felt different, somehow. But Rodney can’t quite put his finger on exactly why, and it’s like a tricky math problem he can’t solve, a piece of an equation standing out only in its absence. It doesn’t make sense to him that this time should seem somehow worse, and Rodney thinks darkly, it barely registers on the scale, really, because the slow suffocation from a loss of 02…really not a bad way to go. It’s actually near the top of Rodney’s list of approved ways to die…I mean…relatively of course, Rodney thinks.
But then there’s the guilt that gnaws at him, even though he rationalizes it, because he didn’t have a choice, really. Should have shot Kavanagh, he thinks, and allows a moment to fantasize about the many varied ways it could have gone down. His beretta is a good one, just a shoulder shot nothing too bad…he could have punched him, and that one Rodney likes. Just a well-aimed hit to the face, and Kavanagh would look shocked and stumble back, clutching his bleeding face, teeth flying every which way. Then Rodney would punch in a code and the gate would shut down and he’d go after John, rescue him from…dozens…of wraith and John would be all grateful, and there’d be swooning and John would clutch him tightly and there would be a moment of hesitation before…
Rodney coughs and crosses his legs, dropping his arms to his lap and not looking at the other three bickering beside him. And maybe this is why it’s so different…because Rodney’s never really been one to brood and dwell and analyze. John is always safe and sound and then they’re back on Atlantis and Rodney goes to his lab and stays there for thirty two hours straight while Zelenka watches him worriedly, fussing over his lack of sleep until he goes and tattles to Keller. There’s always distractions drawing him away from such thinking, but now? Now he’s stuck in the back of a floating jumper with three of the most boring scientists that Rodney has ever had the displeasure of meeting, and he wonders briefly, when he stopped being one of them.
Five days and nothing for company but this silent reverie, because Rodney hasn’t been able to bring himself to open the bulkhead doors. He knows he can if he really wants to; John’s resolute barricade was more for posterity than any real defense against the three squabbling men. On the third day his radio cackles and John’s voice says,
“They still discussing which Matrix is the best?”
“No…they’re quoting Lord of the Rings…scene by scene,” Rodney tells him, exasperated and a little desperate.
“God help you,” John says, and Rodney’s lip twitches up in a smirk.
Rodney had hesitated when John gave him the order to vent the 02, his fingers trembling, fluttering over the keyboard and wondering what to do, what the right call was. Dr. Lee had looked at him, his hand over his mouth and sweat pouring down the side of his face and Kavanagh was horrified by what he had done. Rodney thinks he’s probably already going to hell anyway so he lets the thought flit through his mind that they didn’t even matter. In that moment, these two men were barely a blip on his radar when he realized John was nowhere near the Puddle jumper, and the thought freaks him out a bit because he knows he has a weak spot where John is concerned.
But he had done it, and all there was to do was wait, until it was all over, and all that greeted him on the other end of his radio was static and silence, as Rodney called out for Sheppard with something close to desperation. There was a feeling of momentary panic, when all he wanted to do was lash out, kick something, Kavanagh preferably.
When he had heard the sound of heavy mechanical breathing he wondered if he was hallucinating, because it couldn’t possibly be…and then it was and he had never been so happy to see Sheppard in his life and how he had even managed to get in the damn suit in the first place was beyond Rodney. But he was just so damn glad that John had, he could have kissed him, and then then he flipped the helmet open and John’s breath was hot and heavy against his face, and then he almost had.
Was going to, in fact, it was the shortest bit of decision making Rodney had ever experienced, but then John cut out, “C’mon! Get me outta this thing,” and Rodney chickened out.
Rodney entertains the idea of what would have happened had he gone through with it, with John mostly trapped in a cumbersome space suit, unable to move…to push away or pull closer. Rodney feels his face redden, his stomach twisting in knots. He’s always been pretty good at pushing thoughts away beneath piles of unfinished work and side projects. But now that he’s here, he wonders if he can just go back, to pretending. Because he realizes that now, that’s how it is. With him pretending like John doesn’t mean what he does to him.
John is giving him an ulcer, Rodney thinks. Five days of nothing but what ifs, and why nots, and of course nots, and well fuck that yes it coulds, and totally, and are you crazy and no it’d be great, and yeah right and Rodney thinks, when he sees John after those doors finally open he’s either going to scream or vomit, or punch him, or all three, in that order.
He figures the Daedalus is due any day, any minute now really, and he can’t stand the thought of letting this opportunity pass without doing something, but he can’t stand the thought of being stuck on this side of this door if sympathetic rejection is all he gets from the other side.
“Fuck this,” he says, loudly and everyone turns to look at him, but Rodney doesn’t spare a second for thought or an explanation as he stands, wincing slightly at his protesting joints. He slams a hand against the door control and it slides open. He steps in to the forward section; Kavanagh, Lee, and Odesky’s confused faces disappear as the door slides shut.
Unrequited
John turns in his chair as Rodney enters and looks up at him, expectantly. His head phones are sliding down the back of his head and his hair is somehow messier than usual.
“Hey Rodney, what’s up?” He asks. Rodney opens his mouth but for the first time he can’t think of a single thing to say.
“You okay?” John asks, looking concerned, sitting forward in his seat. Rodney just stares some more and thinks oh God! Why am I doing this! He shakes his head.
“Not really,” he confesses. John stands up then and makes like he’s about to move towards Rodney, who panics and backs up, tripping over the co-pilot’s seat before righting himself.
“What is it?” John asks, “Did you finally kill Kavanagh? Cos this’d be the perfect place to hide the body,” John jokes. But Rodney just shakes his head and John’s smile falters and he looks worried.
“I have to tell you something,” Rodney says finally.
“Sure, what is it?” John asks. Rodney’s mouth is moving, he can feel it, but there’s no actual words coming out.
“When I thought…that you were dead,” he starts, “I…well I didn’t like it.” He says.
“Oh, well thanks,” John says, sincerely, if not a little confused.
“What I mean to say is…the thought of you not being around it really…upsets me. And to that end…well…it’s just that…” Rodney tries, but John doesn’t seem to be understanding, hell, Rodney doesn’t seem to be understanding.
“You and I are friends,” Rodney tries and John nods. “But I don’t want…I mean…I think we’d…I’d really like it if…we weren’t.” John looks very confused.
“You don’t want to be friends with me?” He asks, “Rodney is there enough oxygen in that compartment?”
“Listen John, what I’m trying to say is…” Rodney closes his eyes and heaves a sigh. He shakes his head and mumbles, “screw it,” before stepping forward and breaching the small distance between them. Rodney tilts his head up and presses his lips against John’s, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he leaves them dangling awkwardly at his sides, his hands clenched and shaking.
John doesn’t move, he doesn’t push him away but he doesn’t really respond either, and Rodney pulls away, embarrassed. He doesn’t look at John as he moves back, stares at the scuffed toes of his boots and kind of wants to die a bit.
When he looks up finally, John is staring at him, dumbfounded.
“Oh,” John says, stupidly. The wire of his headphones is hooked around his ear and it’s so endearing it sickens him.
“Before you say anything,” Rodney starts, because now that he’s started of course he can’t stop, “just let me…” John doesn’t say anything so Rodney takes that as an okay.
“I know…you and me..we’re so very very different and sometimes that’s good but also sometimes that’s terrible because opposites attract in physics but this isn’t really physics and sometimes being similar is better and everything, but I mean we are similar and I know you’re…you know…my team leader and in the military and all that other bullshit that makes this so very wrong and not good and can’t happen and blah blah blah blah who cares because I love you I think, which is different for me, because mostly I’ve never really loved anything other than myself and my cat, and wow that make me sound like a middle aged spinster but still it’s the truth, and full disclosure and all that right? And well what I am trying to say is that I think we’d be okay…you and me…good even…and I can’t guarantee that it won’t end apocalyptically but but it could be okay right? I mean…we could…be happy?” Rodney says, and he finishes with a sappy little grin, because he thinks it’s true, he thinks he and John could just work, like he’s the missing piece of this equation.
But when he finally looks up John is looking at him with this stricken expression on his face and Rodney’s heart is in his toes before John even opens his mouth, because that is not the happy rom com look of someone about to jump into their lover’s arms. That is the look of a pity kiss and an ‘I’m sorry I’ve already been invited to prom’ kind of look.
John doesn’t say anything and Rodney doesn’t let him, he just backs away a pace toward the bulk head and John looks at him like he’s terribly sorry and Rodney knows that he is but it doesn’t stop the feeling in his chest like he’s about to have a heart attack or the prickling behind his eyes, the pounding forming in the front of his head creeping just past the temples.
“It’s not that I don’t…like you…it’s just…I’m not really…it’s a bad time…everything…” John finishes lamely, finally unhooking the wire from around his ear. Anyone else and Rodney thinks that statement would end with a fist to the face or at least a good slap but John…he’s all contrite and sincere.
“‘course…” Rodney nods, like he understands, but he doesn’t, not really. John looks like he wants to say something, but can’t quite figure out what, or maybe how, but Rodney doesn’t really give him the chance because he feels so claustrophobic, trapped in this tiny space with John and he swipes a hand at the door controls once more and turns away, letting them close firmly behind him. Lee and Kavanagh glance up at him.
“He kick you out?” Kavanagh smirks.
“The Daedalus should be here soon,” Lee says.
“Hopefully,” Rodney respond, and he sits back down in his spot once more and waits.
Alternate Happy Ending
John turns in his chair as Rodney enters and looks up at him, expectantly. His head phones are sliding down the back of his head and his hair is somehow messier than usual.
“Hey Rodney, what’s up?” He asks. Rodney opens his mouth but for the first time he can’t think of a single thing to say.
“You okay?” John asks, looking concerned, sitting forward in his seat. Rodney just stares some more and thinks oh God! Why am I doing this! He shakes his head.
“Not really,” he confesses. John stands up then and makes like he’s about to move towards Rodney, who panics and backs up, tripping over the co-pilot’s seat before righting himself.
“What is it?” John asks, “Did you finally kill Kavanagh? Cos this’d be the perfect place to hide the body,” John jokes. But Rodney just shakes his head and John’s smile falters and he looks worried.
“I have to tell you something,” Rodney says finally.
“Sure, what is it?” John asks. Rodney’s mouth is moving, he can feel it, but there’s no actual words coming out.
“When I thought…that you were dead,” he starts, “I…well I didn’t like it.” He says.
“Oh, well thanks,” John says, sincerely, if not a little confused.
“What I mean to say is…the thought of you not being around it really…upsets me. And to that end…well…it’s just that…” Rodney tries, but John doesn’t seem to be understanding, hell, Rodney doesn’t seem to be understanding.
“You and I are friends,” Rodney tries and John nods. “But I don’t want…I mean…I think we’d…I’d really like it if…we weren’t.” John looks very confused.
“You don’t want to be friends with me?” He asks, “Rodney is there enough oxygen in that compartment?”
“Listen John, what I’m trying to say is…” Rodney closes his eyes and heaves a sigh. He shakes his head and mumbles, “screw it,” before stepping forward and breaching the small distance between them. Rodney tilts his head up and presses his lips against John’s, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he leaves them dangling awkwardly at his sides, his hands clenched and shaking.
John doesn’t move, he doesn’t push him away but he doesn’t really respond either, and Rodney pulls away, embarrassed. He doesn’t look at John as he moves back, stares at the scuffed toes of his boots and kind of wants to die a bit.
When he looks up finally, John is staring at him, dumbfounded.
“Oh,” John says, stupidly. The wire of his headphones is hooked around his ear and it’s so endearing it sickens him.
“Before you say anything,” Rodney starts, because now that he’s started of course he can’t stop, “just let me…” John doesn’t say anything so Rodney takes that as an okay.
“I know…you and me..we’re so very very different and sometimes that’s good but also sometimes that’s terrible because opposites attract in physics but this isn’t really physics and sometimes being similar is better and everything, but I mean we are similar and I know you’re…you know…my team leader and in the military and all that other bullshit that makes this so very wrong and not good and can’t happen and blah blah blah blah who cares because I love you I think, which is different for me, because mostly I’ve never really loved anything other than myself and my cat, and wow that make me sound like a middle aged spinster but still it’s the truth, and full disclosure and all that right? And well what I am trying to say is that I think we’d be okay…you and me…good even…and I can’t guarantee that it won’t end apocalyptically but—“ Rodney says.
“Rodney!” John shouts, and Rodney stops his speech and looks up, John is staring at him a bit incredulously. “Don’t waste your breath,” he says. And Rodney’s struck dumb, his face falling rapidly and his heart sinking, stomach churning. But John is just smirking a little, fondly and kind of sheepish.
“You’ll need it,” John tells him, and Rodney gives him a confused look.
“Huh?” He articulates, “for what?”
“This,” John shrugs, all nonchalance as he moves forward and captures Rodney’s lips against his own, grinning as he does it. Rodney kisses him back, his hands coming up to cup John’s face, stubble scratching against his fingers. He doesn’t want to stop but John is moving back and he reluctantly allows it, his hands dropping to John’s shoulders. John’s hands are splayed against his hips and he’s smirking.
“Daedalus should be here soon,” John tells him.
“Hopefully,” Rodney smirks. John collapses against the pilot’s seat and pulls Rodney down onto his lap, he kisses Rodney hard and they curl around each other to wait.