1. Default Chapter

Title: Sleep is for the Weak  
Author: OXBastetXO  
Rating: PG  
Archive: Please ask first  
Status: complete  
Category: Angst  
Summary: Rodney's avoiding sleep and someone comes to find out why.  
Spoilers: The Storm  
Sequel/Season: Season One  
Authors Note: Okay..this started out it was to be a silly and loosely based on my own lack of sleep issues lately and then turned into this. shrug

I don't own them, Gecko and Scifi does. I'm just borrowing them for while and promise to give them back when I'm done, though I might just keep Rodney for little longer ;-)

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Sleep is for the Weak

by

OXBastetXO

Rodney McKay sat in his lab, well, what he had claimed as his lab, staring at a device he had absolutely no clue what it did. He knew he should be sleeping, but he really didn't feel like sleeping. That would probably be from the five cups of coffee he had after he promised Zelenka he wouldn't have any more. This was before Zelenka had himself left for bed and before Rodney found he could make the device light up. He wasn't really sure why it lit up, but it did make the most amazing colors if he concentrated hard enough.

He sighed and sipped the tepid coffee. He really didn't like cold coffee, but given the fact that get himself some water involved, getting up, he stuck with what he had at hand: cold coffee.

He had slipped into the fuzzy place where you've already gone through the stage where you're so tired you feel like crap, through the dizzy, nasty headachy place, right past where your eyes feel all gritty and like they're going to fall out of your head and into the fuzzy place where you're just sort of numb. He thought that might be a bad thing, but the pretty colors the device were making were just so...pretty.

He liked the lab at this time of the night. It was quiet. There weren't other scientist milling around looking for things or asking questions they should have known the answer for themselves, but were too lazy to look up and there weren't military men wondering with something they found and wanting to know if it was going to kill them since they managed to get their hand stuck it in.

He sighed again and put the device down and glanced over at his laptop. The readings it was giving off were really rather impressive, if he could still figure out what the meant. He watched the numbers dance across the screen hypnotically.

"McKay?"

He turned toward the voice and blinked. He stared at the man staring at him a moment before his brain caught up putting a name with the face.

"Yes, Major Sheppard, what do you want?"

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Sheppard asked, folding his arms in front of him.

Rodney glanced at the clock and frowned at the time. Nearly three A.M. He was supposed to be at a briefing at 6 A.M. There really wasn't a point to going to bed now. "I'm fine, Major," he answered.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked.

Rodney huffed indignantly. "Really, speaking of which, shouldn't you be in bed, Major."

Sheppard sighed. "I was," he pulled up a stool opposite him. "Whatcha working on?"

Rodney huffed. "One of the devices the Ancient's left behind."

"What's it do?" he asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"I'm studying it."

"Why?"

Rodney fight an urge to roll his eyes, more from the fact his eyes hurt from staring at the device for so long than from irritation, which was growing.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm studying it because we're not sure what it does."

Sheppard looked at him. "Cranky, much," he commented.

Rodney closed his eyes. "Major, is there something you need?"

He leaned against the counter top. "Zelenka and Beckett both asked me to look in on you."

"Oh," Rodney brissled.

"Yeah, they're worried about you," Sheppard went on smoothly. "Seems they think you're not sleeping like you should. Up all hours in the lab. You know, that kind of stuff," he said casually.

Rodney stared down at the device he was working on. "I'm fine," he said tightly.

"You see it's more than just them. Ford and Teyla's made comment about it too. Groden even said something to Weir and she talked to me about it too."

Rodney put down the device. "I'm flattered everyone is so concerned about my well-being, but I assure, you, Major, I'm fine," he stood and the grit his teeth to keep his balance as the room looped around for a moment.

Sheppard sat back and continued to study him. "See, that's just the thing they're worried about."  
  
He was starting to get mad now. "I'm fine," he snapped. "Now if you would get out of my lab, I have work to do."

Sheppard just sat there, his placid expression never changing. Finally, he said softly. "It's not your fault."

Rodney stared at him "Excuse me?"

"What happened with Kolya. You're not trained for that kind of thing. You kept your head and kept you and Elizabeth alive and you saved the city. You did good," he said kindly.

Thunderstruck, Rodney sat back down on the stool. "I didn't," he said after a moment. "I broke. I talked. I told him everything he wanted to know."

"Not everything," Sheppard said smoothly. "You wiggled things around so they were true," the corner of his mouth quirked up in a bit of a smile, "from a certain point of view."

Rodney scrubbed his hands over his face. "I thought he was going to cut my arm off," he said softly. "He just kept twisting that knife around in my arm and telling me I only needed one arm to fix the electrical systems." He hated the quaver in his voice, but he couldn't stop talking now. "Then he started in about what he'd do to Elizabeth if I didn't tell him what he wanted. I couldn't—" He cleared his throat. "I couldn't let him do that." He stared down at his hands folded in his lap. "I told him just what I thought would placate him, then I twisted what I could so it wouldn't work if he tried it on his own."

Sheppard nodded. "You did what you had to."

Rodney looked up at him and was surprised at the understanding look on the other man's face.

"I never meant to put you in danger," he said. "I didn't think they would be that stupid to try to kill you."

The Major smiled. "Never underestimate the stupidity of your opponent."

Rodney just nodded.

Sheppard stood, the stool grating loudly on the floor. "Let's get you to bed. I'll let Weir know to tell your team to cancel your meeting in the morning."

He started to protest, but fatigue was suddenly catching up on him with a vengeance and he just nodded.

Sheppard came around the worktable and slid a hand under his arm, helping to his feet and guiding him out the door. The walk back to his quarters went by in a blur and he found himself standing outside his door before he realized they had stopped walking.

"You," Sheppard said, pointing at him. "In bed," he pointed at the door. "Now."

Rodney nodded and then paused. He looked up at the other man. "Thank you."

Sheppard smiled. "I should be thanking you, but instead, I'm telling you good night."

A tired smile, turned up the corners of the physicist's mouth. "Good night," he said, heading into his room.

The door hissed shut behind him and he kicked off his shoes and shucked off his jacket before collapsing onto the bed without even bothering to undress and into the first untroubled sleep he had had since the storm.


	2. Chapter 2 Be a Lert, We Need More Lerts

Chapter 2 - Be a Lert, We Need More Lerts

Rodney sighed and rolled over on his bed, slitting open his eyes. He was awake, but he really didn't want to be. His head hurt and his body felt like he was under too much gravity. Did Atlantis have a way of changing the gravity?

He groaned and slit open his eyes. The sun was up. Crap, he should gave been in the labs hours ago. He lazily watched motes of dust dance in the sunlight. He couldn't remember ever seeing the sun at this slant before. Not that he was really ever in his quarters when the sun was up. He sat up slowly and realized he had never undressed. He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. He grimaced at the rough feel of the stubble on his face. He needed a shower. He made a face. He needed to brush his teeth too. If felt as if something had crawled in his mouth and died. Something fuzzy and foul tasting.

He pealed his socks off and dropped them on the floor and then stood a bit unsteadily and undid his belt, pulling off his pants. He dropped those on the way to the bathroom. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped that just outside the bathroom. He pealed the rest of his clothes off and turned on the shower, standing there a moment to let it get hot before he got in. He had been a little, well, a lot surprised that the Ancients had amenities much the same as they did back home. He stepped into the hot spray of water and winced a little until he got regulated and then he just stood there, letting the hot water beat down on him, easing some of the ache out of his body. He really was going to have to learn not abuse his body this way. He took his time showering. He sighed as he turned off the water. The Ancients had come with a completely ingenious way of heating the water as a by-product of the desalination process that meant unlimited hot water.

He wrapped his towel around himself and moved to sink to start to shave. He rubbed at the steam on the mirror and moved automatically through the motions of shaving. A loud clattering sound startled him. His eyes snapped open and realized he had started to doze off and dropped his razor. He picked it back up and finished, starting to shiver. The room was cold after the hot shower.

He wandered out into the other room and found clothes to change back into. His stomach growled reminding him he hadn't eaten in a while. He pulled on a clean shirt and fresh pants and then sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks. He sat there a moment and caught himself starting to drift off again.

He needed coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

He started for the door and tapped the opener. He stepped out into the hallway and then stopped, looking down at his feet. He wiggled his toes and sighed. He headed back into his room and had to look around for a while to find where he had kicked his shoes off the night before. He finally found on under his bed and another under chair. He sat down and pulled them on and then snagged his jacket from the floor. He pulled it on, heading back into the hallway. He yawned and slipped into a bit of autopilot to the room they had set aside as the mess hall.

He rubbed his temples as he walked. Food and coffee would help the thumping in his head and the sick dizzy feeling that still dogged him. He scrubbed his hands over his face again.

He heard the buzz of conversation as he entered the mess and headed straight for the coffee carafes. He filled up a mug only to have someone reach around him and take it out of his hands. He blinked and then followed the mug around and found himself face to fac with Carson. He sighed irritatedly. "Carson."

"You need rest, not caffeine," the Scottish physician informed him.  
  
"I've had rest," he said. "I need caffeine now."

"Not enough. You look like crap, Rodney," the man said gently.

He glared, feeling a sudden heat flare inside him. "Thank you for your, oh so, complimentary appraisal," he snapped, grabbing the mug of coffee back from and sloshing the scalding liquid out over his hand. He swore hotly, switching hands with the mug and trying to shake the burning sensation away.

"For pity sake." Carson shoved him into a seat and started checking his hand. "Rodney, what is the matter with you?"

Chagrined and in pain, he decided his best course of action at the moment was to keep his mouth shut. He was tired and he was acting like a spoiled child. He set the mug down and grimaced as Carson twisted his throbbing hand. "Can you not do that?" he finally blurted out. "It hurts."

"Of course, it hurts you've got second-degree burns on it," Carson snapped. "Man, are ya' daft? That coffee is hot coming out of that thing."

He started to make a comment back and then thought better of antagonizing the person who could make the pain go away.

He felt tired and sick and his hand hurt and all he wanted to do was go hide in his office until he could make sense of what was going on around him. He felt a cool hand on his forehead and opened his eyes. He frowned slightly, how did they get shut?

"Rodney, look at me," Carson instructed him.

He blinked and stared at the other man crouching in front of him. "What?"

Carson held Rodney's burnt hand away from both of them and then stood. "Come on, you're coming to the infirmary with me."

"What? Why?" Rodney asked petulantly. "I mean, I have to get back to the lab."

"Not right now," Carson said firmly. "Not until I figure out what's wrong with you."


	3. Chapter 3 Be u Nique, We Need more Niqu...

Thanks to B7-KerrAvon and evil Doc Corey for ideas of what to do next! eg

Smile!

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Chapter 3 - Be u Nique, We Need more Niques  
  
Rodney was too tired to protest as Carson lead him out of the mess hall and down to the infirmary. He tried to pull his injured hand away from Carson, but Scottish doctor kept a tight grip on his wrist. It was the same arm Kolya had used his creative persuasion on and the stitches pulled as Beckett yanked him along.  
  
"Carson," he protested. "That's my bad arm, could you let up a little? You were the one lecturing me about being careful with it and not popping the stitches."  
  
Carson's grip immediately released and Rodney massaged his wrist. His arm ached, but that was nothing new. It had been aching since he had finally gotten down off the adrenaline high after the crisis was over. Carson had given him something for the pain, but he hadn't used any of them. They made it hard to concentrate and made him sleepy and sleep had been the last thing he had wanted right then. Sleep meant letting his mind slow down enough to start analyzing what had happened and just how badly he had screwed up.  
  
"Rodney?" A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his revelry. Carson frowned deeply at him. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine," he snapped automatically. He was getting sick of everyone asking him if he was "alright." No, he wasn't all right, but that was none of their business. He screwed up. He nearly got John killed. He could have gotten Elizabeth killed. His stupidity could have caused the whole of Atlantis to have been destroyed along with the team still working in it and stranding Carson, Ford, Teyla and the three Athosians that had been with them on this planet forever.  
  
Carson just nodded and ushered him into the infirmary and over to a bed. He sighed and sat down on it, while Carson went to get something for his burnt hand.  
  
He stared down at the reddened skin of his hand. Stupid move. Stupid just like everything else. Yes, he was brilliant, but in just a few very specific things. He failed at music. He failed at pleasing his parents. He would have failed here if John hadn't saved the day, as usual.  
  
He flexed his fingers and winced a little. He shifted on the bed and something poked him in the ribs. He slid his hand in his pocket gingerly and pulled out the little device he had been studying earlier. It flashed indigo blue in his hands. He turned it over and it slipped out of his grip, clattering on the floor. He groaned. He had been doing that a lot lately. It seemed he dropped everything he picked up.  
  
He slipped down off the bed and bent over, picking up the scanner. He stood and the room did a sickening loop.  
  
'Rodney!"  
  
Hands grabbed him and things slowly came back into focus, from the floor. His butt hurt and realized his legs must have fold on him when he stood up. Crap. If things weren't bad enough already, he didn't need to be ribbed about 'fainting' again.  
  
"Rodney, are you okay?"  
  
He looked toward the voice and frowned. "Major?"  
  
"There we go," Sheppard said, with a smile as he and Carson helped Rodney back to his feet on to the bed again. The major gave him an appraising look. "You know, you look like crap."  
  
Rodney sighed tiredly, rubbing his good hand across his face. He felt like crap. "So Carson said," he commented dryly.  
  
Carson gave him a gentle push back. "Lay down before you pass out again, Rodney."  
  
"No snide comments about me fainting?" he asked acidly, his eyes flashing to Sheppard. He instantly regretted the remark when he saw the concern on the other man's face.  
  
"Rodney," Carson said with a bit more insistently and he gave in. The ache and fuzziness in his head started to ease the moment he lay down.  
  
He sighed deeply and let his eyes slid shut a moment. He was so tired.  
  
"Ow!" His eyes snapped open at the hard pinch on his finger. A nurse stood over him holding his good hand in hers. His right hand had been bandaged and he frowned at it. When did that happen?  
  
The nurse touched his finger to something and then gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, Doctor Beckett asked me to check you blood sugar."  
  
He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly and just nodded. He didn't have the energy to argue with her. He let his eyes slid back shut again.  
  
"Rodney?"  
  
He blinked his eyes back open and found the back of the bed had been angled up. He moved to rub his blurry eyes with his left hand and winced as something pinched the inside of his arm. That was when he noticed he was wearing burgundy scrubs. He looked up at Carson in confusion.  
  
The Scottish physician wore a serious expression. "Rodney, I want you to drink this and then I want you to try to go back to sleep," he said, holding a glass for him to take.  
  
Rodney frowned suspiciously. "What is that?"  
  
"Juice," Carson told him, motioning for him to take the glass. "You're blood sugar is low. That's why you fain...passed out earlier."  
  
Rodney winced at the stuttered word and nodded, taking the glass and sipping it. He grimaced as the sweetness of the juice set his teeth on edge. "You put sugar in it?" he asked and Carson nodded.  
  
"You need the extra sugar," he said, taking out his stethoscope to listen to Rodney's chest while he sipped the juice.  
  
He watched Carson as he took his vitals in total doctor mode. "Carson, what's wrong?" he asked, starting to become unnerved by the other man's serious demeanor. "And what happened to my clothes?"  
  
That made Carson smile a little. "I hid those," he said, a mischievous twinkle lighting his eyes a moment and then disappearing again. "Rodney, how long has your arm been hot and swollen?"  
  
He looked down at his right arm a bit guiltily. It was now hidden under a fresh bandage. "I don't know," he said truthfully.  
  
Carson gave him a searching look and he looked away unable to hold it. "Rodney," he said in a warning tone.  
  
"I don't know," he responded. "I haven't being paying a whole lot of attention to it. I've been trying not too."  
  
Carson just sighed. "You've got a fairly nasty infection going on here and you're going to stay put until we get it under control. Understand?"  
  
Rodney looked back up at him starting to protest, but the look on the Beckett's face instantly silenced his protest and he sighed, just nodded.  
  
He took the now empty glass from Rodney and patted his shoulder. "Try to get some sleep," he said, easing the bed back down.  
  
Rodney watched his back as he walked away from the bed and then closed his eyes. Great, just great. Now, he could just let his entire research team down as well. At least everyone would get a break from him. He had heard the comments when no one thought he was around. He knew his personality grated on people. It wasn't that he particularly liked that part of himself, but people were easier to deal with when they were irritated at you. You knew how they were going to respond. It was when they were your 'friend' they were dangerous.  
  
He shivered and pulled the thin blanket over him tight up under his chin, curling up on his side and back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4 Don't be a Noid, Avoid the No...

Chapter 4 - Don't be a Noid, Avoid the Noid

_Blood._

_Blood on his hands._

_Some of it was his, the rest. The majority of it wasn't. It was..._

_His eyes traveled down to the still bloodied body at his feet. John Sheppard's cold, dead eyes stared up at him accusingly, a long silver knife was buried hilt deep into his chest. _

"_No," he whispered. He glanced wildly around the room only to find another body draped haphazardly over a consol. His heart froze in his chest. "No," he whispered again, stumbling over to Elizabeth Weir's body. A large bullet hole marring the smooth lines of her jacket directly over her heart. _

_He looked back down at the blood on his hands. Their blood. It was their blood and it was his fault. His weakness had gotten John killed. His cowardess had gotten Elizabeth killed. _

_His fault._

_It was all his fault._

"McKay."

A hand shook his shoulder and he flinched back, his eyes snapping open.

"Easy there," Sheppard said gently. "You were having a nightmare."

Rodney stared at him for a long moment, his mind struggling to justify the two images. The dead Sheppard from his memory and the living one standing here in front of him.

"Are you real?"

Sheppard smiled. "Last time I checked."

"You're not dead?" he asked softly, his mind still trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

He shook his head and then smiled mischievously. "No, I'm dead and I've come back to haunt you."

Irrational anger flashed through him at the other man's flippant attitude and he glared at him. "Fine. Then go haunt someone who actually gives a care," he snarled, rolling on his side so his back was to the stunned man.

"Hey," Sheppard said in stunned surprise. "Whoa, what is all that about?"

Rodney kept his back to him, trying to keep his breathing even. He squeezed his eyes tight in pain. He had had banged his sore arm hard against the rail of the bed when he had rolled over.

Sheppard grabbed his shoulder pulling back over. When he saw Rodney's face he said, "Oh, crap. What's wrong?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Rodney ground out. "Leave me alone," he said with a snarl.

"Yeah, like I'm going to believe that," Sheppard responded and then quirked an eyebrow up at him. "You know, you are not a pleasant person when you're sick."

Rodney just sighed and closed his eyes. His arm hurt, his head hurt, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Sheppard squeezed his shoulder gently. "I'll get Beckett. You just hold on," he said stepping away quickly.

Rodney frowned. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. He rubbed his nose and pulled the oxygen cranial out of nose and unhooked it from behind his ears. He sighed again and looked around him. An IV with a couple different bags of stuff hung from a frame over his head and he was hooked up to several different monitors. He watched the numbers scroll by on the one he thought was heart rate and blood pressure and the numbers looked all off. The little squiggly line was kind of hypnotic if you watched bounce up and down and up and down and up and...

A soft cool hand rested on his forehead and he opened his eyes again. Teyla smiled down at him. "Good evening, Rodney."

"Hi," he said, his voice sounding harsh and scratchy.

He tried to clear his throat, but something hitched in his chest and he started to cough. Teyla brought a glass of water to his lips and he sipped it and it settled the worse of the coughing down.

He felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Thank you," he said sheepishly.

"You are quite welcome," she said, putting the glass back and then sitting in the chair beside his bed. She settled herself in and he saw a blanket and something that kind of looked like knitting beside her.

He watched her making herself comfortable. "You don't have to stay," he told her.

She just smiled. "You are ill. It is not good for someone to be alone when they do not feel well."

"It's really not necessary, Teyla. Carson and his people are here. It's their job to keep track of the patients," he said, rubbing his face. He frowned when his hand tangled a bit in the oxygen line again. He started to pull it off and Teyla stood, reaching to stop him.

"You must not. Doctor Beckett said you need this for now," she told him, settling it back in place and tucking it behind his ears again.

"Is he giving you hard time, lass?" Carson said, walking up to the bed. "Rodney, you need to keep that on," he chided.

Rodney sighed impatiently. "Carson, this really isn't necessary?" he groused. "I don't know why you're keeping me here. Yes, I'm tired, but I'm usually tired. I just need some coffee and antibiotics and left to get back to work. I'm supposed to be working with Zelenka on the new lab we just found. There were a lot of small devices we're still trying to figure out what they're for."

"Rodney," Carson interrupted him. "You're got a pretty nasty infection running through your system right now and you're temperature been running over thirty-nine degrees for the last few hours. I'm not letting you out of here until that comes down and we've got that infection under control."

"Thirty-nine, Doc?" Rodney hadn't heard Sheppard or Ford come in. Ford glanced around at them for someone to convert it to something he was use to.

"That's over a hundred and two Fahrenheit," Sheppard told him. "Not good."

Rodney frowned, his mind working sluggishly. "But antibiotics should knock that out pretty fast, right?"

Carson glanced over at Sheppard and frowned and wouldn't meet Rodney's eyes.

"Carson?" Rodney felt something very uncomfortable settle in his stomach.

"We just need to find the right one," the Scottish physician hedged. "It's a nasty little beastie native to this galaxy we're dealing with. So, we just have to find what it responds to."

Rodney just looked at him. "So, basically, I'm going to die," he said softly. The prospect didn't frighten and he thought that was odd.

"No," Sheppard said harshly and then caught himself. He glanced over at Beckett. "Right, Doc?"

"Right," he agreed. "We just need to find what works and get these beasties gone."

Rodney just nodded and then looked around at his team members questioningly as they settled themselves around his bed. "What are you doing?" he asked finally.

"Keeping you company," Sheppard told him. "This place gets pretty spooky at night."

Rodney just arched his eyebrows. "I'm not a child."

"I know that," Sheppard stated mildly.

"And I don't appreciate being treated by one."

"And no one is," Sheppard told him, settling himself in. "We are you friends and we're concerned about you," he stated.

"Yeah," Ford added, straddling a chair he had pulled over to sit on.

Beckett smiled. "Half hour, Major, and don't tired him out," he said as he left.

Rodney just watched them all. People didn't do this with him. They tried to avoid him. They didn't come to see him unless they needed something.

He narrowed his eyes at Sheppard. "What's going on, really? What's not working?"

Sheppard gave him a confused look. "Broken?"

"What system is down that you need me to tell you how to fix?"

"Everything like that's fine," Ford told him. "Night shift just took over in the control room when we came down. Groden told me tell you to feel better."

Rodney frowned deeper, his head really starting to throb.

A soft hand on his shoulder caused him to look up. "You do not have to stay awake if you do not wish," she said gently. "If you are tired, go to sleep."

He started to protest, but that really seemed to make a lot of sense and he decided, for once, to listen.


	5. Chapter 5 Don't Be A Larmed, For Warned...

Chapter 5 - Don't Be A Larmed, For Warned Is For Larmed

A soft rhythmic sound finally worked its way through Rodney's sleep and setting up a very discordant thumping in his head.

_Geez, wouldn't someone turn that metronome off? If you're going to practice, practice. Don't just let it run._

He could hear soft voices talking around him and he kept his eyes closed, listening. People would say the most interesting things if they thought you were asleep.

He had to concentrate to make out what the voices were saying.

"...is the device? I have never heard of a metronome," a female voice said.

"It's this thing for keeping time when you practice a musical instrument," a young male voice explained. "It sounds like this," he said and then did a fairly good imitation of one.

Rodney frowned a little realizing the sound he heard before wasn't the ticking of a metronome, but a soft beeping sound. The speakers didn't seem to notice him and kept talking.

"I didn't take you for a musical kind of guy, Ford," another male voice said. This one sounded older, more of a baritone to the other's tenor.

"Trumpet. My grandma made me practice everyday after school for half hour."

Their conversation lapsed into silence.

"I never thought of McKay as being a music person either. I wonder what kind of instrument he plays," the baritone questioned.

"You sure he does?" the other male asked.

"Well, the whole metronome thing."

"Piano," an accented voice said softly.

"Hmm, so McKay plays the piano," the baritone said.

"He did," the other voice said. "When he was a boy. He says he doesn't play any more."

"Why not?" the female voice added.

There was a sigh. "He says he doesn't like to talk about it and wouldn't tell me much more than that. It's something that really bothers him. He'd strangle me if he knew I was telling you this."

"Doctor McKay doesn't not speak much of his family," the female voice commented sadly. "Does he not have one?"

"Don't know," the baritone said. "He's pretty tight fisted about personal information."

"I don't think it was a very happy family," the tenor commented. "I mean, he's not real good with kids. Reminded me of a guy I knew at my first post. He grew up in foster care and didn't know how to interact with kids. It was sad. I mean, my parents died when I was little, but my grandparents took me and raised me, so I stayed with family."

Rodney sighed. He didn't know his grandparents. They were dead before he had been born, but he would have liked to have stayed with them. His parents got stuck with him and visa versa. Maybe—

A cool hand brushed against his face and he blinked his eyes open. A face he couldn't quite put a name with smiled down at him.

"There ya be," the person said. "How are you feeling there, Rodney?"

He stared at the face a long time, not sure. He didn't feel good. His whole body ached and he was so hot he felt like he might melt, but other than that, he felt dandy. He looked around and others were seated around the bed in chairs. They must have been the ones talking before.

"Rodney?" the man over him said again, to get his attention and he looked back up at him. "We're going to put a cooling blanket under you for a bit. We need to try to get your temperature down."

He just stared back and then closed his eyes. As long as it didn't involve him getting up and doing anything, sure. Not a problem.

He must have dozed off again because the next thing he knew he felt like he was lying on an iceberg.

"Wha—" he groaned, struggling awake, trying to force his lethargic body to move.

"Easy, there Rodney."

He looked up at Carson and scowled. "What are...you trying...to do?" Talking took a great deal more effort than it should. He was having a hard time getting the words to form in a coherent manner.

"You've got a very high fever and we're trying to get it down," Carson told him, holding him down with far too much ease.

"Too cold," he grunted. "Freeze...butt off," he said grumpily, struggling to get the words to come out.

Carson chuckled. "I doubt we'll do that, but you're getting a little too hot for your own good right now."

"Yeah, McKay, we like you brilliant, not incandescent," another voice added. It took him a moment to realize that the voice belonged to the other set of hands holding him down and those hands belonged to John Sheppard.

He stared up at the major and started to shiver. It stared out as just as small tremors and then built until his whole body was shuddering.

"Doc?" Sheppard said in alarm.

"Give him a minute," Carson said quickly, his hand warm and reassuring on his shoulder. "Just hold on, Rodney," he kept saying.

After what seemed hours, the worse of the shaking seemed to let up and settle into waves of goose bumps that passed over him in intervals.

Gradually, he started to feel warm again and he sighed in relief.

"Much better," he heard Carson softly and he struggled to open his eyes again.

Sheppard, Ford, Teyla, Zelenda and Elizabeth were ranged around his bed in chairs or sitting on beds nearby. He frowned. "I missed the meeting?" he asked, his voice hoarse and strange sounding in his own ears.

Smiles broke around the group and that only made him frown deeper in confusion.

"Just waiting for you to wake up, Doctor McKay," Ford said, beaming at him.

Elizabeth came close to the bed and took his hand in hers. "You scared us there, Rodney," she said, giving him a mildly reproving look.

"I don't understand," he said softly. He stared at the faces around him, realizing they were actually worried about him and tears pricked his eyes. "I don't—"

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "Just rest."

He looked around not sure what to say or how to say it. Finally, he just decided on, "Thank you."

Carson cleared his throat. "I think it's time we gave this man some peace and quiet," he said. "He'll be fine, but he needs rest."

"Doc," Sheppard started to say.

The Scottish man nodded. "One of you can say, but the rest of you need to go. I need my infirmary back and Rodney needs to sleep."

Sheppard settled himself in beside Rodney's bed, giving the others a smug look.

"Rest, Rodney," Zelenka said, tapping his leg and turning to go.

"Yeah, rest, Doctor McKay," Ford added. "We'll check back on you later."

Teyla smiled and patted his foot and left with the others.

Elizabeth lingered a moment longer to talk with Carson.

Rodney settled back, feeling absolutely drained. He looked at the man sitting beside his bed and just stared at him.

Sheppard raised his eyebrows in question. "What?"

"Why?" Rodney asked softly.

"Why what?"

"Why do you care? I mean, I nearly got you killed," he said softly.

Sheppard leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Rodney, you're part of my team. I mean, there are days I'd like to duct tape your mouth shut and hang you off the back of the Jumper, but I trust you. I respect you. Heck, you're probably the smartest guy here and odds-on why we're all still alive, but more than that I'd like to think of you as a friend."

Rodney smiled a little and said softly. "Thank you." There was a lot more he wanted to say, but it was becoming a struggle just to keep his eyes open, let alone talk.

"Go to sleep, Rodney," Sheppard told him. "You and I are going to have a long talk when you're up to it about a lot of things, but for now, just concentrate on getting better."

Rodney nodded, letting himself finally relax.


	6. Chapter 6 – Don't be a Fraid, Friends Ke...

Author Note –Thanks for all the wonderful feed back. I was staring to wonder if anyone was reading. ;-)

Thanks to B7KerrAvon for the ideas of what was going on and Tipper for keeping me inspired to keep at it! Dru, thanks for all the great feedback!! You're nuts dear, but thank you!

* * *

Chapter 6 – Don't be a Fraid, Friends Keep us from Fraying

"Carson, would you stop fussing?" Rodney snapped, struggling to keep the light robe he was wearing over the thin scrubs shut and keep himself balanced against the bed. His legs still felt pretty wobbly and it wasn't helping matters his right arm was bound up in a sling.

"Rodney, for the love of—" The Scottish physician sighed in exasperation. "You're gonna break you fool neck."

Rodney closed his eyes in frustration as a wave of dizziness swept over him. "I'm going stir crazy in here. No one will let me have my laptop and you're the one that said I need to get up and walk."

"With help," Carson pointed out sharply.

"Fine," he said, grumpily, shifting to sit on the bed and glare at him. "You're here. Help."

"He giving you a hard time, Doc?" Sheppard walked in behind Carson. He smiled at Rodney. "The living dead walks," he teased a bit.

Rodney gave him sour look. He was tired. He ached. He had about as much energy as one of the deplete ZedPMs and the way everyone was fussing over him was totally disconcerting and all of it had him on edge. All this over the stupid cut on his arm.

He looked back up and Carson was still glaring daggers at him. That probably had more to do with the histrionic fit that he had on one of the nurses earlier. He really did need to apologize to her, but he was more than capably to give himself a bath, thank you very much.

He sighed and dropped his eyes again to stare at the floor.

Sheppard cleared his throat. "Doctor Beckett, if it would be alright, I need to have a little talk with Doctor McKay."

Rodney looked up again, frowning at the formal tone the Major was using. The look on the man's face made him stiffen a bit.

_Great, just...great. Now what?_

Carson gave the Major a confused look and then his eyebrows raised. "Yes, of course. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."

Rodney stared at both of them on confusion as Carson quickly darted away. Sheppard came over and faced him, arms crossed tightly across his chest. Rodney continued to stare at him, waiting for him to speak.

Sheppard look down at him, studying him. Rodney shifted uncomfortably, pulling the thin robe shut again.

Finally, Sheppard spoke. "First off, let me say it's good to see you back on your feet. You had us pretty worried there for while." Then his tone hardened. "And if you ever, repeat, ever do anything that stupid again, I will personally haul your butt down here and have Beckett keep you chained to one of these beds until we find a ZPM to send you back to earth."

Rodney blinked in confusion. "What?"

The Major sighed and pulled a chair over and sat down in it. "McKay, you nearly died," he said in exasperation.

Rodney sighed and sat back a little more on the bed. Carson had told him as much. The infection from his arm had gotten into his blood and kind of run amuck from there. They had some trouble pinpointing the correct antibiotic needed and he had gotten pretty sick over the whole thing.

Sheppard watched a bit longer and then said. "Why?"

"Why what?" Rodney shot back before he could stop himself. He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm out of sorts right now."

"What is with that?" Sheppard shot back. "You've been ripping everyone head off since you woke up. You'd think you'd be a little grateful people cared about you."

Rodney winced. "I know. I'm sorry. I just—" he looked away and cross the nearly empty infirmary. "It makes me nervous when everyone's being nice to me. I mean, yes, I was sick, but—" he shook his head, not really able to put in to words what was going in his head. "I'm sure you had better things to do than watch me sleep."

"We didn't want you to be alone," Shepard told him.

"I barely knew you were here," he told him. He looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "Were you here the whole time?"

"One of us, Ford, Teyla and I took turns, others too. Zelenka stopped in a couple times and so did Weir."  
  
"How long?"

"You were out of it for about three days."

Rodney took a moment to digest this. He shook his head. "Why?"

Sheppard's dark eyes bore into his. "You're our friend. You're sick," he said as if that was explanation enough.

Fatigue settled into a throbbing pain behind his eyes and he scrubbed his good hand across his mouth.

"Rodney, let it go," Sheppard said abruptly and McKay's eyes snapped back open.

"What?"

"It's over. Atlantis is safe. The Genii are gone. What happened, happened. We go from here."

"I screwed up," he said softly.

"Learn from it. Move on."

He sighed, staring at the floor. The Ancients had the most fascinating architecture.

"Beckett is making you an appointment with Dr. Heightmeyer."

Rodney's head snapped up and he glared at the other man. "The shrink? Why?"

"You weren't sleeping. You ignored that infection in your arm. You've been ripping peoples heads off left and right. You connect the dots," Sheppard told him. "You want to stay on the team you see her."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Please, Major, I've been to shrinks all my life." His eyes narrowed. "They do that to you when you're in the "gifted" programs. I need left alone to think."

"You've been left alone and you nearly died," Sheppard said shot back. "This time we go by the book. You see Heightmeyer or you're off the team, period."

"Look, Major--"

Sheppard's eye flashed. "No, you look, McKay. You were tortured. You're not handling it alone." His tone softened. "You don't have to. You've got friends whether you want them or not. People who actually care about you. You're pretty good at keep people at arm length. Well, these people won't let you do that. You need help and you need to let them help you."

Rodney stared him. Ever instinct in him told him to yell at the man and kick him out of the room, but he knew he was right. He didn't know how to deal with this. He had never had many friends. Acquaintances, coworkers, yes, but not real friends. He sighed tiredly and let his shoulders slump in defeat. "I don't know how," he admitted.

Sheppard sat back and sighed. "For starters, stop pushing everyone away." He glanced back over his shoulder at a pretty nurse restocking a cabinets along the far wall. "You could start by apologizing to the nurse you screamed at this morning."

Rodney shot him a withering look. "I didn't scream—" he caught himself and let out a deep breath. "I was kind of rough on her."

Sheppard nodded. "You were and on Beckett and about everyone. Zelenka said you threw a pretty impressive temper tantrum before I chased you out of the labs. The other scientist are willing to cut you a break due to the fact that you were sick at the time and over-caffeinated and sleep deprived, but you're starting to push the envelop of the breaks people are willing to cut you."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"See Heightmeyer," Sheppard said, sitting in the chair. He gave him a critical look. "You look beat. Why don't you get some sleep," he told him.

Rodney felt wrung out and it was getting frustrating. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't work because Beckett wasn't let him. He knew why, but it didn't stop him from being irritated by it.

"McKay sleep...now," Sheppard said, snapping him back to the here and now.

He nodded and shifted awkwardly to lie back. Sheppard got up and helped him get back onto the bed and untangle himself from the IV line he was still tethered to. He sighed deeply and draped his good arm over his eyes.

Sheppard patted his shoulder. "See you later."

Rodney shifted his arm and looked at him. "Thank you," and then he added. "I'll see her."

The Major nodded. "Good."

He paused. "I'll apologize to the nurse too," he said, his eyes starting to droop shut.

Sheppard smiled. "Good man."

Rodney sighed. He had this funny feeling he couldn't quite identify. Something kind of warm and...fuzzy inside. It wasn't unpleasant feeling, just an unusual one. He struggled to identify just what it was. He heard Sheppard leave and then him talking to Beckett indistinctly. The feeling was comfortable and....

Trust. It was trust. One feeling he hadn't let himself feel for a very long time. He had never truly ever been able to trust his parents and had given up on ever finding anyone he could trust. People just didn't work that way, maybe these people did.

He sighed and shifted to make himself more comfortable. He'd wait and see.


End file.
