Fic - Quiet World
Title: Quiet World
Author: victoriaely
Genre: angst, POV
Rating: PG
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Carson Beckett
Pairings: none
Spoilers: none
Part of The Fourier Series
AN: Inspired by a fic by severusslave.
Not beta-ed. If you spot any mistakes, please point them out.
Rodney woke up to find the world quiet. He looked at his watch and saw it was eight am. That meant he had one hour to get dressed and eat some breakfast before his working day officially started. He grabbed his comm and tried to reach Sheppard. They were supposed to have breakfast together and talk about Rodney's field training. Wasted time. He would explain how he had better things to do than hold a stick. He could never use them properly out in the field, so why waste the time?
Colonel, I think you're wasting your time. No, that wouldn't sound too well. Rodney opened his mouth to say it out loud, but no words came out. He slowly sat down on his bed and said the words again. Nothing. He screamed, his lungs and throat hurting, but what noise could a mute person make?
Rodney got up and started pacing. It was all a dream. It was some twisted, super-realistic nightmare that was haunting him. He already dreamt he was blind, or drowning, or choking to death, being mute was just another bad dream. He would play along until his alarm clock beeped, or when something blew up and someone came to his door, or when he was too tired and miserable and his body would wake him up.
A warm hand on his shoulder made him stop. Sheppard was there, in front of him, upset, talking. It was really interesting. Most of his dreams were vividly colored, with feelings and sounds and colors intertwining, capturing. This one was almost dull. Sheppard's uniform was black, his room's walls were grey and it was all so quiet. Sheppard was speaking, but no words were coming out. Maybe he was mute, too. Rodney McKay was having a mute dream.
He concentrated really hard and he could read Sheppard's lips. McKay, what are you doing?
Nothing, obviously.
Then get dressed and come.
Rodney concentrated. Sheppard said 'then'. Sheppard answered his question. Was he reading his lips, as well? Rodney looked at Sheppard and suddenly clapped his hands. The Colonel's face grew angrier, and his words louder. They must have been louder, but Rodney didn't hear them.
Silent tears fell on his cheeks as he willed himself to speak. I'm deaf.
- --- -
He didn't know exactly what happened, but he knew he was on the floor, hunched, and Sheppard was trying to get him to look at him. Well, grabbing his head and raising it quite painfully was probably Sheppard's way of asking for a little attention.
Then Carson came and he was talking to Sheppard, looking at Rodney from time to time, taking things from a nurse. The Scot sat down, by his side, and took his hands, and gave him a piece of paper. Rodney slowly read Carson's words. He was asking him to answer his questions, tell him everything that might have caused this. Rodney looked up from the paper and sighed. He could read Sheppard's lips, but Carson's... he would remember his accent and how wrong everything was. Carson took the paper from him and gently helped him to stand. He must have said something to Sheppard, because the man went away, closing the door. The Scot handed him an uniform and waited patiently for him to coordinate his movement enough to be able to dress himself.
Some ten minutes later, he was walking towards the infirmary, Carson's warm hand gently pressed on his back, guiding him.
- --- -
Carson gave him some pills to take and explained that they wouldn't fix his problem, but that he was weak and he should take care of himself more and thrust the bottle off pills in his hands. Rodney took it and left the infirmary, hoping to find peace in his room. It was really strange. It was quiet, with no sound from the outside world, just his thoughts, but the need for sounds was overwhelming. Seeing Carson's lips move when he was talking to others, then starting to say something to him before he remembered and closed his mouth with a sad look on his face made him feel sick more than anything else.
Carson and John said he could still work in the lab, but they didn't know about all the things that beeped when things went wrong and all the alarms and... his people expected him to be able to hear them. He didn't want to pretend to be okay, because he wasn't. A wall could come crashing down on him and he wouldn't know it. He could scream for help and die there not knowing if anyone ever heard him. He was not okay.
- --- -
At the briefing, everyone assured him that it was okay for him to go back to the lab. Well... Carson said that he would suggest it and when he did, the others didn't look appalled, so he took it as an acceptance. Seeing his lab assistants stare at him made him reconsider. He wanted to snap at them, yell and get them moving again, but it would be pointless. They would waste time explaining everything to him, writing down everything. So Rodney got up from his table and went to another desk, hoping there were enough reports that needed to be written in Atlantis to justify his presence.
- --- -
Rodney slowly made his way on the corridors, moving close to the walls. Yesterday a marine almost knocked him over. The man apologized and those who were there told him that the man had said 'Make way', but Rodney didn't hear any of that. Just saw their lips moving and their faces showing reproach. The safest way to move was close to the walls, because nobody else moved close to the walls.
As he walked in the infirmary, a nurse asked him about how he was and he waved his hand, trying to send her away. Her and the look of pity on her face. He just wanted to see Carson and ask him if he couldn't help him in the lab. Whenever he visited him in the lab, Carson was alone. If he could work alone, maybe he could find something for Rodney to do on his won.
The doctor was hunched on his desk, looking at some sort of drawing. As he moved closer, Rodney saw that it was a drawing of some bones. Carson must have been researching for something... Lt. Reynolds broke his leg that morning while offworld, Rodney remembered reading in a message.
Well, Carson was obviously busy, no time to baby sit him, so Rodney turned around and headed for the door. Carson must have heard him at some point, because he was by his side, with one hand on Rodney's shoulder, looking apologetic.
It's okay, I know you're busy, Rodney said, hoping his words didn't come out too loud.
Grabbing a pencil from his lab coat, Carson started looking around, probably searching for a pencil. He couldn't find any, so he turned to look at Rodney.
I'm sorry, Rodney. He smiled, because he finally could read Carson's lips. And because on his face, he saw no trace of pity or accusation, just regret that he couldn't find the solution. Not yet.
Part 2
Author: victoriaely
Genre: angst, POV
Rating: PG
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Carson Beckett
Pairings: none
Spoilers: none
Part of The Fourier Series
AN: Inspired by a fic by severusslave.
Not beta-ed. If you spot any mistakes, please point them out.
Rodney woke up to find the world quiet. He looked at his watch and saw it was eight am. That meant he had one hour to get dressed and eat some breakfast before his working day officially started. He grabbed his comm and tried to reach Sheppard. They were supposed to have breakfast together and talk about Rodney's field training. Wasted time. He would explain how he had better things to do than hold a stick. He could never use them properly out in the field, so why waste the time?
Colonel, I think you're wasting your time. No, that wouldn't sound too well. Rodney opened his mouth to say it out loud, but no words came out. He slowly sat down on his bed and said the words again. Nothing. He screamed, his lungs and throat hurting, but what noise could a mute person make?
Rodney got up and started pacing. It was all a dream. It was some twisted, super-realistic nightmare that was haunting him. He already dreamt he was blind, or drowning, or choking to death, being mute was just another bad dream. He would play along until his alarm clock beeped, or when something blew up and someone came to his door, or when he was too tired and miserable and his body would wake him up.
A warm hand on his shoulder made him stop. Sheppard was there, in front of him, upset, talking. It was really interesting. Most of his dreams were vividly colored, with feelings and sounds and colors intertwining, capturing. This one was almost dull. Sheppard's uniform was black, his room's walls were grey and it was all so quiet. Sheppard was speaking, but no words were coming out. Maybe he was mute, too. Rodney McKay was having a mute dream.
He concentrated really hard and he could read Sheppard's lips. McKay, what are you doing?
Nothing, obviously.
Then get dressed and come.
Rodney concentrated. Sheppard said 'then'. Sheppard answered his question. Was he reading his lips, as well? Rodney looked at Sheppard and suddenly clapped his hands. The Colonel's face grew angrier, and his words louder. They must have been louder, but Rodney didn't hear them.
Silent tears fell on his cheeks as he willed himself to speak. I'm deaf.
- --- -
He didn't know exactly what happened, but he knew he was on the floor, hunched, and Sheppard was trying to get him to look at him. Well, grabbing his head and raising it quite painfully was probably Sheppard's way of asking for a little attention.
Then Carson came and he was talking to Sheppard, looking at Rodney from time to time, taking things from a nurse. The Scot sat down, by his side, and took his hands, and gave him a piece of paper. Rodney slowly read Carson's words. He was asking him to answer his questions, tell him everything that might have caused this. Rodney looked up from the paper and sighed. He could read Sheppard's lips, but Carson's... he would remember his accent and how wrong everything was. Carson took the paper from him and gently helped him to stand. He must have said something to Sheppard, because the man went away, closing the door. The Scot handed him an uniform and waited patiently for him to coordinate his movement enough to be able to dress himself.
Some ten minutes later, he was walking towards the infirmary, Carson's warm hand gently pressed on his back, guiding him.
- --- -
Carson gave him some pills to take and explained that they wouldn't fix his problem, but that he was weak and he should take care of himself more and thrust the bottle off pills in his hands. Rodney took it and left the infirmary, hoping to find peace in his room. It was really strange. It was quiet, with no sound from the outside world, just his thoughts, but the need for sounds was overwhelming. Seeing Carson's lips move when he was talking to others, then starting to say something to him before he remembered and closed his mouth with a sad look on his face made him feel sick more than anything else.
Carson and John said he could still work in the lab, but they didn't know about all the things that beeped when things went wrong and all the alarms and... his people expected him to be able to hear them. He didn't want to pretend to be okay, because he wasn't. A wall could come crashing down on him and he wouldn't know it. He could scream for help and die there not knowing if anyone ever heard him. He was not okay.
- --- -
At the briefing, everyone assured him that it was okay for him to go back to the lab. Well... Carson said that he would suggest it and when he did, the others didn't look appalled, so he took it as an acceptance. Seeing his lab assistants stare at him made him reconsider. He wanted to snap at them, yell and get them moving again, but it would be pointless. They would waste time explaining everything to him, writing down everything. So Rodney got up from his table and went to another desk, hoping there were enough reports that needed to be written in Atlantis to justify his presence.
- --- -
Rodney slowly made his way on the corridors, moving close to the walls. Yesterday a marine almost knocked him over. The man apologized and those who were there told him that the man had said 'Make way', but Rodney didn't hear any of that. Just saw their lips moving and their faces showing reproach. The safest way to move was close to the walls, because nobody else moved close to the walls.
As he walked in the infirmary, a nurse asked him about how he was and he waved his hand, trying to send her away. Her and the look of pity on her face. He just wanted to see Carson and ask him if he couldn't help him in the lab. Whenever he visited him in the lab, Carson was alone. If he could work alone, maybe he could find something for Rodney to do on his won.
The doctor was hunched on his desk, looking at some sort of drawing. As he moved closer, Rodney saw that it was a drawing of some bones. Carson must have been researching for something... Lt. Reynolds broke his leg that morning while offworld, Rodney remembered reading in a message.
Well, Carson was obviously busy, no time to baby sit him, so Rodney turned around and headed for the door. Carson must have heard him at some point, because he was by his side, with one hand on Rodney's shoulder, looking apologetic.
It's okay, I know you're busy, Rodney said, hoping his words didn't come out too loud.
Grabbing a pencil from his lab coat, Carson started looking around, probably searching for a pencil. He couldn't find any, so he turned to look at Rodney.
I'm sorry, Rodney. He smiled, because he finally could read Carson's lips. And because on his face, he saw no trace of pity or accusation, just regret that he couldn't find the solution. Not yet.
Part 2