(no subject)
Title: Heated Discussions.
Author: AnCa (Caz)
Pairing: None. Rodney/Ronon friendship (kind of)
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: If I have any they are so vague I forgot they are spoilers.
Summary: Set season two, before Coup D'etat, just after Runner. On the run, Ronon and Rodney have a chat. In a desert.
It seemed entirely appropriate that his first real conversation with McKay takes place under two blazing suns with people trying to kill them.
Ronon’s been with Sheppard’s team for about three weeks. In that time he’s heard a lot of McKay talking, but hadn’t actually done much talking to him. It wasn’t personal. After seven years on the run, he’s still getting used to the idea of having an ongoing conversation. Even before, when he served in the military, most communication was short, sharp and to the point. Teasing, joking, banter, the kind Sheppard, Telya and McKay shared, got you killed. Or worse, it made you friends who got killed. He didn’t have a lot of room for friends in his old life.
Sheppard and Teyla understood; they were soldiers. What you did, you didn’t talk about. But McKay was different. According to Weir, talking was the only way he could vent the heat his brain gave off. And that was okay. Some people were like that. They just weren’t the kind of people he got to know very well.
They’ve been running for about an hour before McKay finally collapsed into the sand announcing, “I can’t go any further. If they’re still chasing us, they deserve to catch us.” Ronon doesn’t tell him they lost their pursuers half an hour ago. The extra distance was just for safety, and yeah, maybe he likes to push the scientist a little. He wants to know what sort of man he’s risking his life for, and with every time he goes on a mission. He wonders what it would take to get McKay up and running again.
McKay’s downing about half of his water bottle. He should probably tell him to save it, but he figures the water will run out soon either way.
“Think they made it?” the other man asks at last, wiping his mouth.
They’d been doing a ‘meet and greet’ as Sheppard called it. Learn the leader’s name, take a look around, figure out if they’ve got anything worth trading for. This world was “a total waste of time” according to McKay. Two suns had burnt the place to a husk; the locals were entirely reliant on off-world trade for food. It turned out one of their chief suppliers was an old enemy, but they hadn’t known that then. Sheppard and Teyla conducted trade negotiations while he and McKay negotiated for lunch. His new CO preferred not to have the scientist around for “anything that involves talking”. McKay seemed happy not be there; Ronon was hungry.
All he got was a strained, “Ronon, get McKay out of here now” before there was a flare of static and the radio went dead. Years of being prey had taught Ronon some hard lessons; he grabbed his bewildered teammate’s arm and pulled him away just as the wall behind them was hit with a dozen darts. From behind one of the local’s ill-built huts, a couple of uniformed soldiers appeared.
“Genii,” McKay breathed, staring at their attackers, seemingly heedless of weapons being raised again. Ronon didn’t give him a chance to get shot; he shoved the scientist to the floor and ran straight at the enemy.
He took them out, but there were others. Their only choice was to run, and on this world, that meant straight out into the desert. Something McKay didn’t like, “this is suicide! We’re doing their work for them!”
“You want to stay here?” He’d asked, glancing back at the unconscious soldiers.
"Fair point. Let’s go.”
So here they are. McKay was right about one thing, they won’t last long. The heat is incredible; probably the reason their pursuers didn’t chase them far. They figure he and McKay’ll try to make it back to the Stargate. Or they’ll just die out here.
He hasn’t heard anymore from Sheppard and Teyla. He doesn’t expect to.
“Yeah,” he replies, “they made it.” If it’s a lie, it won’t matter anyway.
They’ve been sitting on the sand for half an hour; there is no shelter in sight, just dunes and a murky haze that counts for a horizon. McKay is silent which is pretty unusual, but there isn’t much to say. Either the others made it back and will find them, or not. The silence isn't arkward, but he’s become used to the luxury of conversation, that, and he doesn't like waiting around.
“So what do the Genii want?”
McKay’s head springs up to look at him, “What?”
“Why did Sheppard want us out of there? We could have fought.”
There’s another silence. He’s about to ask again when McKay answers quietly, “not us, me.”
“What?”
“He didn’t want us out of there. He wanted me out of there. I’m the one they’re after.”
He’s about to enquire further when the other man continues, “well maybe not just me. Their commander guy and Sheppard have an ongoing grudge match. But ultimately, I’m the one they want alive.”
Now he understands part of it, “that’s why the darts.”
McKay nods, “that’s why the darts.”
Ronon doesn’t ask if they want Sheppard and Teyla alive; he still isn’t sure what that burst of static on the radio was.
They fall into silence again. It’s too hot to do much; there aren’t even bugs to kill. The suns are slowly burning them to death, but as there’s nothing he can do, he isn’t going to mention it. He’d expected McKay to complain, but the man is just staring down at his blistering hands.
Eventually the scientist remarks, without raising his head, “We’re dead you know.”
“We aren’t yet.”
“But soon. Heat exhaustion, sunstroke, hyperthermia. We’re going to be cooked like a roast turkey.”
Sounds unpleasant. “Maybe”
McKay is frowning, “Aren’t you meant to be disagreeing with me oh stoic warrior one?”
“Too hot.” A snort, and then silence again. He drinks, not much water left.
“We really are dead,” his teammate repeats, before Ronon can say anything he carries on, “I mean, say we do get out of this one. Sheppard pulls his superman cape out of his cap and saves the day again. They’ll be back. And if it isn’t them, it’ll be someone else. I’m the smartest man in this galaxy and there will always be someone ready to pick my brains. And I do mean literally.”
He says nothing; McKay never needed encouragement before, he doesn’t now.
“You know the worst thing about this galaxy? Back home, all I had to worry about was minor risks to my personal safety. Stay away from test sites, fill in all the paperwork correctly, don’t work with mad scientists, even the blonde ones who are really, really hot.” The other man flinches and takes a swig of water before continuing. Ronon just stares.
“Then I come to this galaxy, and suddenly people are trying to shoot, kidnap and eat me. And suddenly I can’t look after myself, a load of idiotic macho soldiers, who think the best answer to 'trouble' is ‘shoot it’ or ‘blow it up’, are suddenly getting themselves killed because of me, and I don’t know why.”
There’s a pause, before his companion continues more quietly, angrily,
“I have a list of dead people in my head, and it keeps getting bigger. People just won’t stop dying for me.” McKay’s water bottle is hurled into the sand. A couple of straggling droplets fall onto the sand.
“What am I meant to do? Refuse to go off world? Sit in my lab in Atlantis and be safe?” The scientist pauses, breathing hard, probably expecting a response.
There’s little he can say; he has his own list. “Maybe people figure you’re worth saving. Sheppard did.”
McKay snorts, “Yeah, and look where that got him.”
Ronon isn’t sure if it’s an apology, or a warning.
Ronon takes a final swallow before throwing the bottle at McKay. They’ve been there nearly three hours, and that’s the last of the water. They won’t last much longer in this heat. It’s make a run for the gate, or wait for Sheppard. Either way they’ll probably die.
McKay isn’t doing well. Neither is he. Their skin is burnt; blisters are forming. They stopped sweating a while ago, their bodies simply unable to lose any more water. Headaches, dizziness, nausea; it’s a quick road down from here. They haven’t spoken for a couple of hours, talking just reminds their throats about the lack of water.
“Still think we might make it?” McKay rasps finally.
Ronon is lying on his back, staring at the sky. “Maybe. You’d rather think otherwise?”
“I prefer to be realistic. Even if we make it out today, there’s still tomorrow.”
“Maybe we won’t die then either.”
Something that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so hoarse, then a shuffling of sand. Now McKay is lying a few feet away, squinting furiously upwards, “and what then?”
“Then?”
“If we don’t die. Twenty, thirty years from now; What if a miracle happens, the Wraith are defeated and the Pegasus galaxy is saved from a dark and oh-so dreadful doom. Do we just pretend it never happened? Do I go home and sit in some government lab and forget how many people died here? Tell me Mr Positive, what happens if one day it is actually over"
And Ronon, who knows better than anyone that it’s never really over, can only say, “you find something new.”
Another dry almost-laugh. “Something new.”
It’s then Ronon realises that if he told his teammate to get up and run, he would, complaining all the way till he collapsed. Not because McKay is heroic or particularly strong, but simply because he doesn’t know where the finish line is. He has yet to learn, as Ronon learnt not long ago that just when you think you’ve reached it, it moves back.
There’s a silver gleam in the sky. Probably a puddlejumper, so perhaps Sheppard and Teyla made it after all. Maybe they will survive today, and even tomorrow.
And maybe one day, they’ll even be able to stop running.
Author: AnCa (Caz)
Pairing: None. Rodney/Ronon friendship (kind of)
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: If I have any they are so vague I forgot they are spoilers.
Summary: Set season two, before Coup D'etat, just after Runner. On the run, Ronon and Rodney have a chat. In a desert.
It seemed entirely appropriate that his first real conversation with McKay takes place under two blazing suns with people trying to kill them.
Ronon’s been with Sheppard’s team for about three weeks. In that time he’s heard a lot of McKay talking, but hadn’t actually done much talking to him. It wasn’t personal. After seven years on the run, he’s still getting used to the idea of having an ongoing conversation. Even before, when he served in the military, most communication was short, sharp and to the point. Teasing, joking, banter, the kind Sheppard, Telya and McKay shared, got you killed. Or worse, it made you friends who got killed. He didn’t have a lot of room for friends in his old life.
Sheppard and Teyla understood; they were soldiers. What you did, you didn’t talk about. But McKay was different. According to Weir, talking was the only way he could vent the heat his brain gave off. And that was okay. Some people were like that. They just weren’t the kind of people he got to know very well.
They’ve been running for about an hour before McKay finally collapsed into the sand announcing, “I can’t go any further. If they’re still chasing us, they deserve to catch us.” Ronon doesn’t tell him they lost their pursuers half an hour ago. The extra distance was just for safety, and yeah, maybe he likes to push the scientist a little. He wants to know what sort of man he’s risking his life for, and with every time he goes on a mission. He wonders what it would take to get McKay up and running again.
McKay’s downing about half of his water bottle. He should probably tell him to save it, but he figures the water will run out soon either way.
“Think they made it?” the other man asks at last, wiping his mouth.
They’d been doing a ‘meet and greet’ as Sheppard called it. Learn the leader’s name, take a look around, figure out if they’ve got anything worth trading for. This world was “a total waste of time” according to McKay. Two suns had burnt the place to a husk; the locals were entirely reliant on off-world trade for food. It turned out one of their chief suppliers was an old enemy, but they hadn’t known that then. Sheppard and Teyla conducted trade negotiations while he and McKay negotiated for lunch. His new CO preferred not to have the scientist around for “anything that involves talking”. McKay seemed happy not be there; Ronon was hungry.
All he got was a strained, “Ronon, get McKay out of here now” before there was a flare of static and the radio went dead. Years of being prey had taught Ronon some hard lessons; he grabbed his bewildered teammate’s arm and pulled him away just as the wall behind them was hit with a dozen darts. From behind one of the local’s ill-built huts, a couple of uniformed soldiers appeared.
“Genii,” McKay breathed, staring at their attackers, seemingly heedless of weapons being raised again. Ronon didn’t give him a chance to get shot; he shoved the scientist to the floor and ran straight at the enemy.
He took them out, but there were others. Their only choice was to run, and on this world, that meant straight out into the desert. Something McKay didn’t like, “this is suicide! We’re doing their work for them!”
“You want to stay here?” He’d asked, glancing back at the unconscious soldiers.
"Fair point. Let’s go.”
So here they are. McKay was right about one thing, they won’t last long. The heat is incredible; probably the reason their pursuers didn’t chase them far. They figure he and McKay’ll try to make it back to the Stargate. Or they’ll just die out here.
He hasn’t heard anymore from Sheppard and Teyla. He doesn’t expect to.
“Yeah,” he replies, “they made it.” If it’s a lie, it won’t matter anyway.
They’ve been sitting on the sand for half an hour; there is no shelter in sight, just dunes and a murky haze that counts for a horizon. McKay is silent which is pretty unusual, but there isn’t much to say. Either the others made it back and will find them, or not. The silence isn't arkward, but he’s become used to the luxury of conversation, that, and he doesn't like waiting around.
“So what do the Genii want?”
McKay’s head springs up to look at him, “What?”
“Why did Sheppard want us out of there? We could have fought.”
There’s another silence. He’s about to ask again when McKay answers quietly, “not us, me.”
“What?”
“He didn’t want us out of there. He wanted me out of there. I’m the one they’re after.”
He’s about to enquire further when the other man continues, “well maybe not just me. Their commander guy and Sheppard have an ongoing grudge match. But ultimately, I’m the one they want alive.”
Now he understands part of it, “that’s why the darts.”
McKay nods, “that’s why the darts.”
Ronon doesn’t ask if they want Sheppard and Teyla alive; he still isn’t sure what that burst of static on the radio was.
They fall into silence again. It’s too hot to do much; there aren’t even bugs to kill. The suns are slowly burning them to death, but as there’s nothing he can do, he isn’t going to mention it. He’d expected McKay to complain, but the man is just staring down at his blistering hands.
Eventually the scientist remarks, without raising his head, “We’re dead you know.”
“We aren’t yet.”
“But soon. Heat exhaustion, sunstroke, hyperthermia. We’re going to be cooked like a roast turkey.”
Sounds unpleasant. “Maybe”
McKay is frowning, “Aren’t you meant to be disagreeing with me oh stoic warrior one?”
“Too hot.” A snort, and then silence again. He drinks, not much water left.
“We really are dead,” his teammate repeats, before Ronon can say anything he carries on, “I mean, say we do get out of this one. Sheppard pulls his superman cape out of his cap and saves the day again. They’ll be back. And if it isn’t them, it’ll be someone else. I’m the smartest man in this galaxy and there will always be someone ready to pick my brains. And I do mean literally.”
He says nothing; McKay never needed encouragement before, he doesn’t now.
“You know the worst thing about this galaxy? Back home, all I had to worry about was minor risks to my personal safety. Stay away from test sites, fill in all the paperwork correctly, don’t work with mad scientists, even the blonde ones who are really, really hot.” The other man flinches and takes a swig of water before continuing. Ronon just stares.
“Then I come to this galaxy, and suddenly people are trying to shoot, kidnap and eat me. And suddenly I can’t look after myself, a load of idiotic macho soldiers, who think the best answer to 'trouble' is ‘shoot it’ or ‘blow it up’, are suddenly getting themselves killed because of me, and I don’t know why.”
There’s a pause, before his companion continues more quietly, angrily,
“I have a list of dead people in my head, and it keeps getting bigger. People just won’t stop dying for me.” McKay’s water bottle is hurled into the sand. A couple of straggling droplets fall onto the sand.
“What am I meant to do? Refuse to go off world? Sit in my lab in Atlantis and be safe?” The scientist pauses, breathing hard, probably expecting a response.
There’s little he can say; he has his own list. “Maybe people figure you’re worth saving. Sheppard did.”
McKay snorts, “Yeah, and look where that got him.”
Ronon isn’t sure if it’s an apology, or a warning.
Ronon takes a final swallow before throwing the bottle at McKay. They’ve been there nearly three hours, and that’s the last of the water. They won’t last much longer in this heat. It’s make a run for the gate, or wait for Sheppard. Either way they’ll probably die.
McKay isn’t doing well. Neither is he. Their skin is burnt; blisters are forming. They stopped sweating a while ago, their bodies simply unable to lose any more water. Headaches, dizziness, nausea; it’s a quick road down from here. They haven’t spoken for a couple of hours, talking just reminds their throats about the lack of water.
“Still think we might make it?” McKay rasps finally.
Ronon is lying on his back, staring at the sky. “Maybe. You’d rather think otherwise?”
“I prefer to be realistic. Even if we make it out today, there’s still tomorrow.”
“Maybe we won’t die then either.”
Something that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so hoarse, then a shuffling of sand. Now McKay is lying a few feet away, squinting furiously upwards, “and what then?”
“Then?”
“If we don’t die. Twenty, thirty years from now; What if a miracle happens, the Wraith are defeated and the Pegasus galaxy is saved from a dark and oh-so dreadful doom. Do we just pretend it never happened? Do I go home and sit in some government lab and forget how many people died here? Tell me Mr Positive, what happens if one day it is actually over"
And Ronon, who knows better than anyone that it’s never really over, can only say, “you find something new.”
Another dry almost-laugh. “Something new.”
It’s then Ronon realises that if he told his teammate to get up and run, he would, complaining all the way till he collapsed. Not because McKay is heroic or particularly strong, but simply because he doesn’t know where the finish line is. He has yet to learn, as Ronon learnt not long ago that just when you think you’ve reached it, it moves back.
There’s a silver gleam in the sky. Probably a puddlejumper, so perhaps Sheppard and Teyla made it after all. Maybe they will survive today, and even tomorrow.
And maybe one day, they’ll even be able to stop running.