Word Count: 914
Summary: Missing scene for 'The Hive', Season 2. Rodney's still struggling with enzyme withdrawal.
Thank you to Leesa Perrie for the beta-reading.
By Jayne Perry
Missing scene for ‘The Hive’
Lorne was still in reeling in shock from Sheppard's demise. But being
the trained soldier meant he was still alert to all that was happening
around him. Including how Rodney was reacting. The look he had seen on
McKay's face he had seen once before, when another soldier had lost his
entire unit. That soldier had never able to come to terms with the loss
of his friends, his unit, and had committed suicide shortly after
returning to the states. Lorne quietly vowed to Sheppard’s ghost
that he would help Rodney get through this.
Rodney mumbled about going to his quarters. Concerned, Lorne watched as
he walked slowly, like that of an old man, off the bridge of the
Daedalus. As he did so, Lorne wondered if maybe he should go with
Rodney, though knew that he himself had yet to process the loss of his
commanding officer and friend. In the meantime, he would give Rodney
time and privacy to recover from the shock and he would check on Rodney
later to offer what support he could. There was always the
sedative that Carson had given him, to use at his discretion, in case
of an enzyme relapse (together with strict instructions). Carson
knew that Rodney would be more likely to accept the drug from someone
he knew and trusted, rather than a ship's doctor he wasn't acquainted
with. However, Lorne privately hoped he wouldn't need to use it,
unfortunately a soldier always had to be prepared.
Reaching his room, Rodney sat on the edge of his bunk, tears running
down his cheeks, despair and hurt vying for superiority. But
underneath it all, Rodney could still feel his body calling and craving
for the enzyme.
No, no, no, no repeated the words in his head. Whether to the
enzyme or to the death of his team mates, he couldn't distinguish.
Crying out in despair, he threw himself onto his bed, trying to bury
his head in his pillow. Not now, he wanted to drown himself in
his sorrow. But instead he felt as though his body was on fire,
burning. Calling to the enzyme, calling for a feeling of
invincibility. If he was invincible, he wouldn't be hurting anymore, he
would be out there hitting back at the Wraith.
Please leave me in peace, he quietly pleaded with the craving. He
imagined Sheppard standing next to the bed, with a look of pity on his
face. But when he waited for some witty remark, all he heard was -
Carson had said that the enzyme hadn't fully cleared his system yet and
that he should stay on Atlantis, but he had told him that he could
handle it. Now he wasn't so sure. He was doing fine, up until the
explosion of the Wraith ship. Fires that had destroyed his life
in their burning inferno. Fires that had burnt the three people he had
come to rely on.
Leave me alone, he cried at the enzyme still coursing through his body.
Leave me to grieve, leave me alone long enough I can get control
back. But the insistent call didn't leave him alone.
Rodney pulled his knees up. Trying to find some comfort in a
foetal position, on a bunk too small, his knees overhanging the
edge. His body constantly shaking, from shock and withdrawal
He thought briefly of sleep. But didn't want to face Sheppard,
Teyla and Ronon's accusing ghosts, accusing him of being too
late. He didn't want to see them standing next to Brendan Gall,
next to Peter Grodin and all the other people who had died.
People he should have been able to save, people who had died because of
I'm so screwed, he thought to himself. Maybe he could arrange a
malfunctioning air lock and end it all. But the physicist in him
knew what would happen to his body in space and rejected the thought.
Take control, come on, you are the Great McKay, he told himself. But still the enzyme called.
The door to his quarters opened and Lorne stood there. Pity and sadness showing on his face.
He walked over to the bed and gently laid a hand on Rodney.
Lorne knew he could have sent a doctor to do this. But he had
come to respect Dr McKay and knew that Rodney wouldn't want anyone else
to see him like this. And Carson had given him the hypodermic in
case Rodney had had trouble with his withdrawal symptoms.
"Sorry, Dr McKay. But you need to rest," he said gently, plunging the hypodermic into Rodney's bare arm.
"No, no," he tried to resist, to no avail.
But the logical part of his mind knew that sleep was what he
needed. Sleep to allow the rest of the enzyme to work its way
clear of his body. Sleep would allow him to rest, so that when he
woke up, he would be once again be back in control. Then he could
put his mask back in place. The mask that hid the pain, the mask
he had worn each time someone had died, but didn't want to show his
feelings to the world. The mask he had worn too many times since
coming to Atlantis.
As he drifted of to sleep, he could still hear the enzyme, but it had become a whisper.