Fic: The Screaming Man
Title: The Screaming Man
Author: sethoz
Spoilers: Season 2 Character Name
Rating: R
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Warning: Implied Character Death
Summary: Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will begin.
The Screaming Man
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will begin.
It begins in a hospital;
He always screams now. Sometimes the screams are vocal, raw animal noises of pain, noise that doesn’t sound like it should come from a human. It is the screams of a broken soul. Sometimes the screams are silent, crying out in his mind so he can’t think clearly. Whenever he is lucid enough to keep track of the time, he tries to time it so he screams out loud at the right time, a mournful wail. A cry for everything that is lost.
Only Rodney can never quite remember if he is on Atlantis or Earth time, can never quite remember when he is supposed to scream. So he simply screams for as long as he can, until his voice grows raw and the noise trickles down into heaving sobs. He screams and cries until there is no noise left at all - and then he continues.
Drugs do nothing to help him, pumped into his body at an alarming rate, cocktails upon cocktails of medicine designed to stop the screams, to stop the pain. To dull the brain until it no longer cares about past hurts or the possibility of future ones. They make him sleep sometimes but it is not a peaceful sleep. Rather, the nightmares come as the always do when he shuts his eyes and lets himself slip into slumber. They will come and he will scream but he won’t wake up, not if the drugs hold them in their grip.
Sometimes, in the moments between screams he sees faces hovering over him, vague, worried faces. Rodney knows they are talking to him because he can sometimes just see their lips moving, mouthing out words he no longer understands. In rare moments he can even hear them above the rushing wind in his ears, snatches of words and conversations.
Yet he never admits he understands, never reacts in the way they want. Instead he turns his face against the pillow, bitter tears streaming down it. If they knew of the occasional chink in his armour then they would try and open it more, try and force him back into a world that doesn’t care. Try and heal wounds they don’t even know about.
He screams, tossing and turning in the bed, fighting against the restraints, the voices of the doctors, the frantic wash of colour above him as they change his drug cocktail. Then it is all over and he sags into the bed, moaning softly while his mind screamed on, a temporary reprise for his throat.
Mad; they whisper, taunting him. Mad; they speak, talking over him. Mad; they scream, in voices he knows too well.
Rodney screa-
Wait.
Perhaps it didn’t quite begin there, but here instead;
Rodney bends over his laptop, allowing himself to get lost in the simplicity of the work in front of him. He doesn’t allow himself any distractions anymore and in a way he is glad to no longer be going off world, because it means he can spend more time here, in the lab, focusing on what really matters - his scientific work. Which is where he should have stayed, Rodney knows. He should never have allowed himself to be bullied and cajoled into going off-world in the first place, because it wasn’t safe, it wasn’t his job damn it and he shouldn’t have to face danger and bullets and blood.
God, there had been so much blood.
He shakes his head slightly, because that was over, he was over it and Rodney wasn’t going to let himself be side tracked down that road. Not when he had so much work to do. A shadow falls over him and without looking up from his work, Rodney gives a grunt as a greeting, knowing that Zelenka will understand it. It’s only when the person clears their throat that he realises it isn’t Zelenka at all.
He looks up, his eyes slightly red from the extended time staring at the computer screen and sees Elizabeth, Carson a few steps behind her. A quick glance around the room shows him that everyone else has left.
“Rodney,” she says and her voice is unbearably gentle. Rodney can feel himself tensing at that, looking from one face to the other. He knows that whatever they have to say isn’t good news, because if it was good, they wouldn’t have felt the need to gang up on him, wouldn’t have felt the need to make sure their was nobody else in the lab when they came.
There was also the fact that it would be impossible for them to give him any news that he would consider ‘good’.
“Rodney,” she tries again, her voice cracking a little as it fades away. Rodney stares silently back at her. After everything that they had been through, he would never have thought she was a coward. And yet here she was, unable to tell him something bad.
“Rodney, we’ve been thinking… and we’ve decided that for your own good, it might be best if you return to Earth for a little while, a vacation. Just until you start to feel yourself again.”
It’s Carson talking now, explaining the betrayal away in his lilting voice. Rodney stares at them, feeling the blood rush from his face because if they take away his work, if they take away Atlantis then he will have nothing left and he honestly doesn’t know if he will be able to co-
Ok, fine. That wasn’t the beginning either.
Maybe it really begins here;
Rodney tries to flick the hand away, not appreciating the help. John simply smiles and steps in closer, adjusting the strap on the tactical vest. Rodney huffs loudly, making sure to exaggerate it, in case anyone is near by.
While it is true that he doesn’t like being treated like a baby, he also has to admit that he doesn’t mind having John’s hands on him. John looks around quickly, to check if anyone is nearby. Satisfied he leans closer, a dangerous gleam in his eyes and Rodney swallows, feeling himself harden at the simple sight in front of him. Rodney closes the finale few inches in between them, pressing his lips against John’s and hearing the slight moan that caused. Reluctantly, he pulls back after the kiss. He wishes there was time to fulfil the promise and fantasy in John’s eyes, but they have a mission to go on and John knows that better than anyone.
So Rodney consoles himself with the knowledge that once they get back, baring complications, he will have John all to himself for a few precious hours. He plans to make every second of that count.
The moment passes as Teyla and Ronon stepped into the room, geared up and ready to leave. Instantly they were Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay again, ready to go and explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new ZPM’s. And hopefully not run into anymore walking clichés. John can’t resist touching Rodney for a finale time, pretending that the vest still needed adjusting. Rodney shivers slightly as John allows himself a long, dangerous stoke across his chest.
“Well, let’s go and play nice with the natives,” John says at last, giving Rodney a final, critical look over. “Try not to get yourself volunteered as a sacrificial offering, piss off the natives or do something else dangerous this time, okay?”
Rodney snorts at that, a long, inelegant s-
Stop. Perhaps we should continue to spin backwards in time.
Through possible beginnings, a touch, a word, an action or a thought;
Lazily, Rodney reaches out, cupping John’s face with his hands. He tries not to smile at the pout on John’s face, forcing the smirk to remain on his face, even when all he wants to do is smile and blush. To act like the teenage girl he most certainly isn’t. For a few seconds he lets his hands rest idly on John’s face, taking in the pout and puppy dog eyes. He chuckles softly, letting the smirk fade away into a true smile as he pulled John closer, kissing away the pout.
John’s hands roam over his body, tweaking a nipple and causing him to gasp into the kiss. When he pulls away, a glare already on his face, John looks completely unrepentant, assuming an air of innocence that Rodney didn’t buy from an instant. John squirms slightly, naked flesh rubbing up against naked flesh and Rodney forgets for the moment about the nipple pinching. There will be time later to get his own back on John, perhaps when the man isn’t naked and under him, a perfect distraction from his ambitions as an evil over lord. Rodney starts so slowly move his way down John’s body, licking a trail across his stomach.
“Mission tomorrow,” John whispers and Rodney nods, even as he dips lower. A mission which means they can’t have spine melting sex because if they do, there is the chance that Rodney won’t get up in time. There is also a slim, slim chance that it will be John who will sleep late. Rodney has yet to see John oversleep, but he insists it is possible and one of these days he plans prove it.
Just not tonight.
Tonight is about the other type of sex, the one that Rodney loves almost as much as the spine melting one. Of course, he loves any kind of sex when it comes to John and once again he has trouble believing that out of everyone John would have chosen him. Rodney knows he is damn good in bed, and that while the years as a scientist haven’t been completely kind to his body, he still thinks that there is some attractiveness there.
No, it is the simple fact that John knows him and knows exactly how much of a bastard he can be.
“Did I ever tell you, that you think too much?” John mutters and the tone is oddly exasperated and amused at the same time. Rodney blinks, as he doesn’t know how John can have possibly guessed that Rodney was thinking. He doesn’t answer John and instead kisses his thigh, along the thin white sca-
Spin back further you say?
How far? Past meetings, past university, past childhood, past rejection, even past birth until he is nothing more than an un-dreamed dream? No. Here, instead;
Best Friend, he had said. And even Rodney, obvious, socially awkward Rodney, had been able to hear the capital B and F in that statement. It makes him feel dizzy and light headed, because he has never really had a Best Friend before and he isn’t sure what to do about it. Isn’t sure what Best Friends say to each other, how they act around each other.
Rodney has had friends before, one night stands, colleagues and minions. But this is something new and potentially dangerous. He feels honoured as well though, remembering the slap on his back, the proud tone of voice used, the way in which John told him good job, well done for saving the day, without actually saying the words. Rodney fidgets slightly as they say good bye to the natives, still trying to process the thought of being anyone’s Best Friend.
Then John smiles at him and suddenly it isn’t so scary and dangerous after all. It’s just John Sheppard, Rodney knows him and it’s just another step forward. He tru-
Maybe there isn’t a single beginning, something we can define.
So we will start - and end - with this;
“Did I do that?”
Rodney stares at the man sitting on the chair in front of him and thinks; Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for; this is what I need to unlock everything. He takes in the stunned expression, the way in which the man slouches even when sitting down and decides that maybe he will keep him for now. It’s not as if the Major will prove to be anything other than a tin opener and if that question was anything to go by, he wasn’t too bright.
Still, he has the gene and Rodney knows that is all that matters. He takes a step forward and begins to spea-
Author: sethoz
Spoilers: Season 2 Character Name
Rating: R
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Warning: Implied Character Death
Summary: Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will begin.
The Screaming Man
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will begin.
It begins in a hospital;
He always screams now. Sometimes the screams are vocal, raw animal noises of pain, noise that doesn’t sound like it should come from a human. It is the screams of a broken soul. Sometimes the screams are silent, crying out in his mind so he can’t think clearly. Whenever he is lucid enough to keep track of the time, he tries to time it so he screams out loud at the right time, a mournful wail. A cry for everything that is lost.
Only Rodney can never quite remember if he is on Atlantis or Earth time, can never quite remember when he is supposed to scream. So he simply screams for as long as he can, until his voice grows raw and the noise trickles down into heaving sobs. He screams and cries until there is no noise left at all - and then he continues.
Drugs do nothing to help him, pumped into his body at an alarming rate, cocktails upon cocktails of medicine designed to stop the screams, to stop the pain. To dull the brain until it no longer cares about past hurts or the possibility of future ones. They make him sleep sometimes but it is not a peaceful sleep. Rather, the nightmares come as the always do when he shuts his eyes and lets himself slip into slumber. They will come and he will scream but he won’t wake up, not if the drugs hold them in their grip.
Sometimes, in the moments between screams he sees faces hovering over him, vague, worried faces. Rodney knows they are talking to him because he can sometimes just see their lips moving, mouthing out words he no longer understands. In rare moments he can even hear them above the rushing wind in his ears, snatches of words and conversations.
Yet he never admits he understands, never reacts in the way they want. Instead he turns his face against the pillow, bitter tears streaming down it. If they knew of the occasional chink in his armour then they would try and open it more, try and force him back into a world that doesn’t care. Try and heal wounds they don’t even know about.
He screams, tossing and turning in the bed, fighting against the restraints, the voices of the doctors, the frantic wash of colour above him as they change his drug cocktail. Then it is all over and he sags into the bed, moaning softly while his mind screamed on, a temporary reprise for his throat.
Mad; they whisper, taunting him. Mad; they speak, talking over him. Mad; they scream, in voices he knows too well.
Rodney screa-
Wait.
Perhaps it didn’t quite begin there, but here instead;
Rodney bends over his laptop, allowing himself to get lost in the simplicity of the work in front of him. He doesn’t allow himself any distractions anymore and in a way he is glad to no longer be going off world, because it means he can spend more time here, in the lab, focusing on what really matters - his scientific work. Which is where he should have stayed, Rodney knows. He should never have allowed himself to be bullied and cajoled into going off-world in the first place, because it wasn’t safe, it wasn’t his job damn it and he shouldn’t have to face danger and bullets and blood.
God, there had been so much blood.
He shakes his head slightly, because that was over, he was over it and Rodney wasn’t going to let himself be side tracked down that road. Not when he had so much work to do. A shadow falls over him and without looking up from his work, Rodney gives a grunt as a greeting, knowing that Zelenka will understand it. It’s only when the person clears their throat that he realises it isn’t Zelenka at all.
He looks up, his eyes slightly red from the extended time staring at the computer screen and sees Elizabeth, Carson a few steps behind her. A quick glance around the room shows him that everyone else has left.
“Rodney,” she says and her voice is unbearably gentle. Rodney can feel himself tensing at that, looking from one face to the other. He knows that whatever they have to say isn’t good news, because if it was good, they wouldn’t have felt the need to gang up on him, wouldn’t have felt the need to make sure their was nobody else in the lab when they came.
There was also the fact that it would be impossible for them to give him any news that he would consider ‘good’.
“Rodney,” she tries again, her voice cracking a little as it fades away. Rodney stares silently back at her. After everything that they had been through, he would never have thought she was a coward. And yet here she was, unable to tell him something bad.
“Rodney, we’ve been thinking… and we’ve decided that for your own good, it might be best if you return to Earth for a little while, a vacation. Just until you start to feel yourself again.”
It’s Carson talking now, explaining the betrayal away in his lilting voice. Rodney stares at them, feeling the blood rush from his face because if they take away his work, if they take away Atlantis then he will have nothing left and he honestly doesn’t know if he will be able to co-
Ok, fine. That wasn’t the beginning either.
Maybe it really begins here;
Rodney tries to flick the hand away, not appreciating the help. John simply smiles and steps in closer, adjusting the strap on the tactical vest. Rodney huffs loudly, making sure to exaggerate it, in case anyone is near by.
While it is true that he doesn’t like being treated like a baby, he also has to admit that he doesn’t mind having John’s hands on him. John looks around quickly, to check if anyone is nearby. Satisfied he leans closer, a dangerous gleam in his eyes and Rodney swallows, feeling himself harden at the simple sight in front of him. Rodney closes the finale few inches in between them, pressing his lips against John’s and hearing the slight moan that caused. Reluctantly, he pulls back after the kiss. He wishes there was time to fulfil the promise and fantasy in John’s eyes, but they have a mission to go on and John knows that better than anyone.
So Rodney consoles himself with the knowledge that once they get back, baring complications, he will have John all to himself for a few precious hours. He plans to make every second of that count.
The moment passes as Teyla and Ronon stepped into the room, geared up and ready to leave. Instantly they were Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay again, ready to go and explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new ZPM’s. And hopefully not run into anymore walking clichés. John can’t resist touching Rodney for a finale time, pretending that the vest still needed adjusting. Rodney shivers slightly as John allows himself a long, dangerous stoke across his chest.
“Well, let’s go and play nice with the natives,” John says at last, giving Rodney a final, critical look over. “Try not to get yourself volunteered as a sacrificial offering, piss off the natives or do something else dangerous this time, okay?”
Rodney snorts at that, a long, inelegant s-
Stop. Perhaps we should continue to spin backwards in time.
Through possible beginnings, a touch, a word, an action or a thought;
Lazily, Rodney reaches out, cupping John’s face with his hands. He tries not to smile at the pout on John’s face, forcing the smirk to remain on his face, even when all he wants to do is smile and blush. To act like the teenage girl he most certainly isn’t. For a few seconds he lets his hands rest idly on John’s face, taking in the pout and puppy dog eyes. He chuckles softly, letting the smirk fade away into a true smile as he pulled John closer, kissing away the pout.
John’s hands roam over his body, tweaking a nipple and causing him to gasp into the kiss. When he pulls away, a glare already on his face, John looks completely unrepentant, assuming an air of innocence that Rodney didn’t buy from an instant. John squirms slightly, naked flesh rubbing up against naked flesh and Rodney forgets for the moment about the nipple pinching. There will be time later to get his own back on John, perhaps when the man isn’t naked and under him, a perfect distraction from his ambitions as an evil over lord. Rodney starts so slowly move his way down John’s body, licking a trail across his stomach.
“Mission tomorrow,” John whispers and Rodney nods, even as he dips lower. A mission which means they can’t have spine melting sex because if they do, there is the chance that Rodney won’t get up in time. There is also a slim, slim chance that it will be John who will sleep late. Rodney has yet to see John oversleep, but he insists it is possible and one of these days he plans prove it.
Just not tonight.
Tonight is about the other type of sex, the one that Rodney loves almost as much as the spine melting one. Of course, he loves any kind of sex when it comes to John and once again he has trouble believing that out of everyone John would have chosen him. Rodney knows he is damn good in bed, and that while the years as a scientist haven’t been completely kind to his body, he still thinks that there is some attractiveness there.
No, it is the simple fact that John knows him and knows exactly how much of a bastard he can be.
“Did I ever tell you, that you think too much?” John mutters and the tone is oddly exasperated and amused at the same time. Rodney blinks, as he doesn’t know how John can have possibly guessed that Rodney was thinking. He doesn’t answer John and instead kisses his thigh, along the thin white sca-
Spin back further you say?
How far? Past meetings, past university, past childhood, past rejection, even past birth until he is nothing more than an un-dreamed dream? No. Here, instead;
Best Friend, he had said. And even Rodney, obvious, socially awkward Rodney, had been able to hear the capital B and F in that statement. It makes him feel dizzy and light headed, because he has never really had a Best Friend before and he isn’t sure what to do about it. Isn’t sure what Best Friends say to each other, how they act around each other.
Rodney has had friends before, one night stands, colleagues and minions. But this is something new and potentially dangerous. He feels honoured as well though, remembering the slap on his back, the proud tone of voice used, the way in which John told him good job, well done for saving the day, without actually saying the words. Rodney fidgets slightly as they say good bye to the natives, still trying to process the thought of being anyone’s Best Friend.
Then John smiles at him and suddenly it isn’t so scary and dangerous after all. It’s just John Sheppard, Rodney knows him and it’s just another step forward. He tru-
Maybe there isn’t a single beginning, something we can define.
So we will start - and end - with this;
“Did I do that?”
Rodney stares at the man sitting on the chair in front of him and thinks; Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for; this is what I need to unlock everything. He takes in the stunned expression, the way in which the man slouches even when sitting down and decides that maybe he will keep him for now. It’s not as if the Major will prove to be anything other than a tin opener and if that question was anything to go by, he wasn’t too bright.
Still, he has the gene and Rodney knows that is all that matters. He takes a step forward and begins to spea-