Fic: What's Done is Done
Title: What's Done is Done
Rating: PG
Characters: Carson and Rodney with cameos by a few others
Spoilers: Sunday, This Mortal Coil, The Kindred, vague ones for Whispers and Outsiders
Word Count: ~4500
Summary: After spending several days on Atlantis doing research, Carson decides he needs an afternoon off.
A/N: Thanks to
jayne_perry for the beta. Written for
leesa_perrie who wanted "Gen, Carson and Rodney, can be with others or just them. Angst, h/c, whump, humour, banter...anything like that." Hope you like it!
What's Done is Done
Carson strolled into the infirmary office area and flopped into a hard-backed chair with a groan. “My favorite mug is missing,” he announced. “Again.”
“Did you check the research lab?” Jennifer asked absently, frowning at her laptop. “You’ve practically lived there since you arrived.”
“Don’t remind me.” He set his computer tablet on the corner of her desk and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I know more about genetic mutations associated with long term exposure to heavy ion radiation now than I ever wanted.”
“Can you help them?”
Carson shook his head sadly. “The damage is too extensive.”
“Is this what you’re looking for, Doctor?” Marie, the head medical technician, materialized with a steaming ‘Blow It Out Your Bagpipes’ cup.
“You are a lifesaver,” he pronounced before taking a huge gulp of the hot liquid. Gasping as it hit his throat, he blinked away tears. “Athosian tea? You could have warned me first.”
She giggled and winked conspiratorially at Jennifer. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were a serious tea drinker. My mistake.”
“Feeling cheeky today I see.” He shifted the mug to his other hand and grabbed his tablet, making a great show of studying it. “I’m headed to Skeltib in a few days. I take it you’ve decided you don’t want anymore nacaema?”
Jennifer straightened quickly. “She apologizes. Profusely. Don’t you, Marie?”
“Absolutely. I’ll never question your tea-drinking abilities again.”
“That’s better,” he replied with a grin. “It is rather tasty, isn’t it? Like fudge.”
“But better,” Marie added.
Jennifer sighed happily. “And not fattening.”
“I’ve finally convinced Doctor Parrish that Botany needs one of the plants,” Marie said. “Now, if only Lieutenant Devereaux can decipher the recipe.”
Carson chuckled as he headed out, leaving them to their scheming. He meandered through the hallways, nodding to passing crewmembers as he took the long way to his favorite balcony. His new line of work suited him. He was making a real difference now - curing diseases, healing the infirm, researching and documenting illnesses that could lead to vaccines and long life for those all over the galaxy. Not that he hadn’t done important work before.
Well, technically, he hadn’t. The other Carson, the real one, had. The only thing he had actually done was help Michael create hybrids and spread the Hoffan plague.
He pulled a chair to the railing and slumped in it, tilting his face to the sun and letting the crisp morning breeze whisk the ghosts away. What’s done is done, or so Ronon said. The big man was right in one respect - Carson couldn’t spend the rest of his life wallowing in guilt. But he could spend it helping others, so once the SGC had declared him fit, he’d made the long trek back to Pegasus.
Atlantis wasn’t the way he remembered it, though, the way he’d dreamed of it for two years of captivity. So many had died, including Elizabeth, and others had returned to Earth. He had never met at least half of the current expedition members, and many of the ones he did know looked at him with a blend of grief and curiosity - a never ending reminder that though he might have the memories and physical attributes of Carson Beckett, he wasn’t really him.
Not everyone reacted that way, of course. Rodney didn’t. Neither did John or Teyla. Ronon had taken a while to come around, but now he stared down anyone who looked at Carson the wrong way. Jennifer and the medical staff had been delightful, treating him as if he’d always been there. But it wasn’t his department anymore. In fact, it never actually had been.
The memory of the original Carson Beckett hung heavy around the city, and he’d decided quickly that living life as a replica was not what he wanted. Mr. Woolsey had agreed to his suggestion of going to the peoples of Pegasus. After all, he could do more out there to help the plague survivors than he ever could in a lab; plus those people might look a little more favorably on Atlantis because of his efforts - an added bonus according to Woolsey.
Carson cautiously sipped his tea as he watched the clouds chase each other across the cerulean sky. He’d spent almost every waking moment of the past ten days in that lab, and he needed some real time off. It looked to be a fine day, and a check of the mission roster showed that the only person who needed a break more than he did was not scheduled to go off-world today. He stood, stretched, and headed inside.
A transport later, he waltzed into Rodney’s lab.
“Good morning, Rodney.”
Rodney didn’t bother to look up from his computer screen. “What the hell’s so good about it?”
“Oh, come on. It’s a beautiful day out. The sun is shining, a cool breeze is blowing, and you have the day off.”
Rodney’s jaw dropped. “The day off? Does it look like I’m sitting here playing tiddlywinks?”
“Well-”
“Never mind.” Rodney pressed his palms to his eyes and yawned dramatically. “What time is it?”
“Have you been here all night again?”
Rodney glared sullenly as he raked hands through his hair. “What does it look like?”
“Well, seeing as how you’re wrinkled, scruffy, and in need of a shower-”
“Hey!”
“-I’d say yes.” Carson tugged on Rodney’s arm until he stumbled from the workstool. “Now, Doctor McKay, you are to get something to eat, go to your room, take a shower and a nap, then we are going to enjoy some fresh air this afternoon. I was thinking of fishing. How does that sound?”
Rodney’s face drained of color and his eyes went wide. He stared slack-jawed at Carson for a minute before giving a jerky nod. “Sure.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rodney mumbled, refusing to meet Carson’s eyes. “Fishing would be great. I’ll tell Radek…”
“You are a terrible liar, Rodney. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Rodney blinked then swallowed thickly and said, “I- uh, I- I’m scared of whales.”
“Whales? I thought this planet didn’t have any.”
“Hey,” Rodney shrugged, “I didn’t say it was logical.”
Carson studied Rodney. His left eye twitched, and his breathing was loud and uneven. Still lying. “Rodney.”
“What?” Rodney flushed scarlet, and his voice trembled. “I said I’d go. What time?”
Their gazes locked. Carson’s brow knitted as he stared, but Rodney’s chin lifted and he glared defiantly in return, refusing to admit whatever it was that was bothering him. For now, anyway. Deciding to wheedle it out of him later, Carson checked his watch. “I’ll drop by your quarters at 1700. That would give you several hours to eat and rest. How does that sound?”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Rodney ducked into the transporter and was gone before Carson could follow. He heaved a sigh and made his way back to the infirmary research lab where he busied himself with database queries for clues on curing the Hoffan plague. When his stomach growled loudly a few hours later, he rubbed his eyes and stood, pressing a hand to his lower back as his spine crackled. He took the fast route to the mess hall and loaded up a tray. Life in Pegasus was good, but the new chef in Atlantis was better. Spotting John and Ronon across the room, he dodged chairs and Marines to reach them.
“Hey, Carson,” John greeted with a smile. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Carson scooted close and dug in, sighing contentedly as his taste buds danced with joy. He loved lasagna “What are you gentlemen up to today?”
Ronon bit into the biggest club sandwich Carson had ever seen. “Orientation.”
“Ah, some new recruits?”
John rolled his eyes. “Scientists.”
Carson winced in sympathy. “Don’t hurt them too badly, lad. I don’t think Jennifer has received the new supply of bandages yet.”
“Don’t worry, Doc.” Ronon snatched a cookie from John’s tray. “I stopped using volunteers.” He leaned out of range as John swiped at him then stuffed the entire cookie in his mouth and chomped noisily.
“That’s because they weren’t volunteers. You were choosing them out of the crowd.” John liberated a few fries from Ronon’s plate and turned to Carson. “The last time he tried it, the guy fainted before Ronon touched him.”
“So, who do you use now?”
Ronon grinned and punched John’s shoulder lightly. “Sheppard.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” Carson munched on a corner of his garlic bread. “Doesn’t make for much of a day off, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t,” John agreed, pinning Ronon with a stare. “No more body slams. This is civilian orientation, not the WWE.”
“Not my fault if you’re an easy target,” Ronon jabbed.
“Keep it up, Chewie, and you’ll be on scientist babysitting duty for a week.”
“Where’s Teyla today?” Carson interjected
“New Athos. Some trade thing,” Ronon replied, a smirk twitching on his lips.
“I think Rodney’s in his lab,” John offered. “He and Zelenka are running diagnostics on something. I probably need to drag him down here before he puts himself in a coma.”
“I sent him to his quarters. Bloody fool’s been in his lab all night. I told him to eat and get some sleep.”
“Good. What are you doing this afternoon, Doc?” John asked as he swirled peas through his mashed potatoes.
“Once he’s rested, Rodney and I are going fishing.”
John’s fork clattered to the table, and Ronon choked on his sandwich. Both men paled as they exchanged glances.
“What is it?” Carson demanded.
“Um…” John’s eyes flicked to Ronon again before settling on Carson. “Was that your idea?”
“Yes, why?”
“What did McKay say?” Ronon asked quietly.
“Well, after he made some excuse about being afraid of whales, he agreed.” Carson pushed his irritation down and leaned forward. “Tell me why you are reacting like this. What is the significance of fishing?”
John looked helplessly at Ronon again. “Doc…”
“Spit it out, son.”
“That’s what you…the other you and Rodney were supposed to do the day he died,” Ronon answered. “McKay didn’t go fishing-”
“And so they were here when the explosion happened.” Carson massaged the bridge of his nose as the headache behind his eyes started to pound. “Oh, Rodney. It wasn’t your fault.” He glanced at John. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”
John’s eyes grew sad. “No one likes to talk about that day, Carson. And to be honest, it really didn’t occur to me, to any of us, to bring up the circumstances.”
“He blames himself, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Ronon pushed his tray away. “He’s not the only one.”
“What does that mean?”
“None of us went fishing that day.” John shifted uncomfortably, his eyes distant. “When Rodney backed out, you- he asked several of us - me, Ronon, Zelenka…”
“Lorne,” Ronon supplied.
“And probably a few more. But we’d already made plans. We-”
“It wasn’t your fault. None of you,” Carson said forcefully. “I can promise you he didn’t blame a single one of you for what happened. From what I’ve read, he died saving someone else. And I can tell you for certain that’s exactly the way he preferred it.” He held their gazes until they nodded and some of the tension seeped from their shoulders. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a fishing trip to arrange.”
“Doc,” Ronon called as Carson turned to go, “tell McKay that.”
“I will.”
John met and held his gaze. “It’s good to have you here, Carson.”
He smiled in gratitude at the intentional emphasis. “Thank you. It’s good to be here. I’ll…”
John sat up straight and reached for his comm. “This is Sheppard.” His jaw tightened and his lips pressed to a thin line as he stood. “I’ll be right there.”
Ronon stood as well. “What’s wrong?”
“Lab accident.” John glanced at Carson. “McKay’s involved. They’re headed to the infirmary.”
Carson had to jog to keep up with John and Ronon as they strode toward the transporter, faces drawn and spines stiff. Many things had changed in Atlantis during his time with Michael, not the least of which was the relationship these men had with Rodney. And Rodney with them. They were more relaxed around each other and yet more vigilant. The teasing was gentler, the laughter more genuine. The bonds of friendship he remembered had become steel cords of family. He hated to think how much pain, death, and near-death had been involved in that transition.
When they stepped out of the transporter, Rodney’s voice echoed loudly in the hallway. “-hear any more excuses! You know to check every vial, tube, and beaker before beginning anything. Were the words too big? Did you buy your degree at an estate sale?”
Ronon’s stride shortened dramatically as John’s shoulders relaxed and Carson grinned. Rodney sounded more irritated than anything, though his voice was laced with pain. When they entered, they found the minor injury area filled with scurrying nurses, an exasperated Jennifer Keller, a dark-haired man in science uniform, and Rodney - red-faced and sweating with his left arm cradled close to his chest.
“Rodney, hold still,” Jennifer said, “I haven’t finished washing the acid off yet.”
“Fine, fine.” Rodney grimaced as he stretched his arm out. Huge red blisters decorated it from his elbow to the back of his hand. “Ow!”
“Then be still.” Jennifer held his arm lightly over a basin and pour copious amounts of water over it.
Rodney glared at the young scientist. “You, go clean up the mess you made in the lab.” He clicked his comm. “Radek, meet- What’s your name?”
“Chavez,” the man said meekly.
“Meet Chavez in Chem Lab Twenty-seven. He has concentrated sulfuric acid to clean up, and he obviously is incapable of working without supervision. Yes, now.” Rodney looked at Chavez. “Why are you still here?”
Blushing a deep crimson, the young man scurried away. John and Ronon exchanged an amused glance as they ambled up to the bed Rodney was perched on.
“You okay?” John asked.
“No, I’m not okay. That moron…” Rodney’s eyes went wide when he spotted Carson. “I’m fine. Good as new.”
“Rodney,” Carson admonished, “those are second degree chemical burns on your arm. You are not fine.”
“I am so. We had plans for the afternoon, and I’m not missing them.”
Carson gaped at him. “Are you daft? We can go fishing another day.”
“No, we can’t,” Rodney insisted, his voice strained. “We’re going today.”
Jennifer stilled for a moment then said, “I need to get a few things. I’ll be right back.”
When she stepped away, Rodney pulled the IV from his good arm and swung his legs off the bed.
John grabbed his shoulder. “Whoa. Hang on a minute.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Carson asked.
Rodney’s face was white. “Fishing,” he stated quietly.
“You can’t go, Rodney,” Carson said. “You need to keep this arm dry. You aren’t going anywhere near the water.”
“Please,” Rodney whispered.
John and Ronon shuffled uncomfortably as Carson shook his head. “No.”
Rodney’s eyes darted around in panic before settling on John. “Sheppard, will you go with him instead?”
“I-”
“We can do something else,” Carson interrupted. “It doesn’t have to be fishing.”
“Yes, it does.” Rodney’s voice wavered as his breath hitched slightly. “Please, John, please take him.”
“Of course, I will,” John said. “We’ll go right now. Just-”
“John, would you and Ronon give us a moment?” Carson asked.
John hesitated, looking from Carson to Rodney and back. “Sure, Doc,” he finally said then patted Rodney’s shoulder. “We’ll be back later, buddy.”
“No, wait!” Chest heaving, Rodney called after them until the doors closed then he turned pleading eyes to Carson. “You have to go. If you won’t go fishing, go visit the Athosians or something. Just don’t stay in the city. Please.”
Carson washed his hands then accepted the ointment and bandages from Jennifer, and pulled the privacy curtain. “Let me see your arm.”
“But-”
“Now, Rodney.”
Rodney flopped back on the bed and stuck out his injured arm.
“Your other arm.”
When Rodney offered that arm, Carson reinserted the IV then took a seat. He examined Rodney’s burns carefully until he was satisfied that the damage was not extensive.
Rodney stared blindly at the ceiling. “Carson, please go fishing.”
“Why?” Carson dabbed the antiseptic cleanser and pain cream liberally over the burn area.
“Because…because you were looking forward to going.”
“I was looking forward to spending the afternoon with a good friend.”
Rodney swallowed thickly. “And I screwed it up again.”
Carson wrapped the bandage loosely around Rodney’s arm. “Again?”
Rodney struggled to a sitting position. “Carson, I need to tell you something. I should have told you before, but I… I didn’t know how. I told you when we found you that…another you died.”
“In an explosion. I remember.”
Rodney’s head dropped. “It was my fault,” he whispered.
Carson set the supplies aside and gazed quietly at Rodney until he looked up. “You set the explosion?”
“No, of course not, but-”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Carson said, his eyes not leaving Rodney’s.
“But I-”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have gone fishing,” Rodney moaned.
Carson stood and grasped Rodney’s shoulders. “It was not your fault,” he enunciated slowly.
Rodney blinked furiously and pulled away. “You don’t understand!”
“You not going fishing didn’t kill that Carson. It was an accident.”
“I lied to him!” Rodney exclaimed hoarsely. “I told him I’d promised Katie that I’d spend the day with her, but I didn’t. I just didn’t want to go, and he died. I killed one of my best friends.” His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as he turned his face away. “If I’d just gone with him…”
Carson’s heart clenched at the waves of guilt and shame pouring from his friend. “Look at me, Rodney.”
Wiping a hand over his face, Rodney took a deep breath and twisted to face him.
Carson pretended not to see the sheen of moisture in Rodney’s eyes. “If you had gone that day, what would have happened?”
“He’d still be alive.”
“And what else?”
Rodney frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What else would have happened if he hadn’t been here?”
“Um…”
Carson sat down and leaned forward, holding Rodney’s gaze. “I’ve read the report. The surgery he did on Teyla was very tricky. Without him, she might have died.”
“But she might not have. There are other doctors.”
“That’s true.” Carson nodded thoughtfully. “What if you hadn’t been here?”
“What?”
“If you and he had gone fishing, who would have made the connection about Watson?”
Rodney’s brow furrowed. “Watson?”
“The other scientist exposed to the device.”
“Right. He and Hewston…” Rodney’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, if I hadn’t been here-”
“All those people in the infirmary would have died, including Teyla and whoever might have been sitting by her bedside.”
Rodney looked towards where John and Ronon had been standing, then back at Carson. “It’s not fair. To trade one life for another.”
“He would have offered his life for theirs. Trust me, I know.” Carson smiled gently. “Not being here would have killed him. He chose to not abandon Watson.” He stood and squeezed Rodney’s shoulder. “He put himself at risk because he wanted to save lives more than anything else.”
Rodney’s body sagged under Carson’s hand. “God, I am so sorry. I know it isn’t much, but I’ve wanted to say it for so long. I just wish…”
The guilt Carson had tried to move past surfaced again. “Me, too,” he sighed. “I wish so many things - that I had been stronger when Michael forced me to help him, that I had sabotaged his work somehow, that I had been able to save Teyla’s people.” He began to pace. “That I- the other me had never played with the retrovirus or helped the Hoffans. Hell, I wish sometimes that I’d never heard of Atlantis or the Stargate program.”
“Carson, you don’t mean that. Besides, you didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices, Rodney. I could have let Michael kill every one of those villagers he marched in front of me. How many lives would I have saved if I’d let them die?”
Rodney shifted until he was upright. “You couldn’t have known what he’d do.”
“It was Michael. I knew but I chose to ignore it, chose to help the ones I could see.” Carson turned away as the memories rose unbidden. “He used them as hybrid test subjects until he got the formula right, then he took the Athosians.”
“What’s done is done,” Rodney murmured.
Carson turned to face Rodney with a wry smile. “I know that, lad. Been talking to Ronon, have you?”
Rodney’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “I understand the words, but I don’t know how to put it into practice. Not really. So I just pretend like everything’s fine.”
“And work until you drop from exhaustion?”
“That, too.”
“Stop blaming yourself. You aren’t God, no matter how hard you try to be. He - the other Carson - he wouldn’t hold you responsible for what happened.”
Rodney sighed heavily. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Carson replied with a firm nod. “It’s the one thing I am certain of, so stop holding on to all that guilt.”
“I will if you will.”
Carson held out his hand. “You have yourself a deal, Doctor McKay.”
Eyes wide and vulnerable, Rodney stared at him for a moment. Emotion flickered on his face then slowly smoothed into something resembling acceptance. Rodney grasped Carson’s hand tightly and shook it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Carson checked the IV drip then handed Rodney a cup of water. “Drink. You need to replace the fluids those burns are sucking up.” He took a seat while Rodney gulped obediently. “By the way, what were you doing in that lab?”
“What?”
“I ordered you to eat and rest. Why were you in the lab?”
“Oh, that.” Rodney slurped until the cup was empty then put it back on the bedside table. “I was in the middle of a perfectly lovely dream about…” He trailed off and flushed a brilliant red. “Never mind that. Anyway, I was asleep when what’s-his-name called. An off-world team had brought back a device filled with an unknown substance that he was supposed to test. Someone had left the top off a container on the worktable, and he knocked it over. When I got there, the acid was spreading over the table, heading straight for that device he was studying. I moved it out of the way but not before acid spilled all over my arm.”
“If someone else left the top off...”
“When I find out who did it, their ass is mine, too, but we have lab procedures, and one of them is to check the containers before you begin.” Rodney rubbed at his forehead. “The rules are there for a reason. I can’t hold their hands all the time.”
“I’m sure they are all relieved to hear that.” Carson grinned mischievously. “Now, since you are stuck here until those fluids are in you, what do you say to a movie? I have a copy of Braveheart.”
Rodney shook his head. “I am not watching that again.”
“Oh, come on. It’s a great movie.”
“Filled with blood and gore and men in skirts.” Rodney made a face. “Not a chance.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Scotland is known for William Wallace. Canada is known for Dudley Do-Right.” Carson couldn’t hold in a chuckle at Rodney’s indignant spluttering.
“That isn’t funny. I’ll have you know, Canada has plenty of famous heroes.”
Carson folded his arms over his chest. “Name one.”
Rodney’s chin lifted. “Me.”
How could he possibly argue with that? Carson laughed. “I stand corrected. What would you like to watch?”
A pleased flush crept up Rodney’s neck. “Jeannie sent me a copy of The Dark Knight.”
“And what is that?”
“Are you kidding? It’s the… Oh, um, well, they remade Batman and this is the sequel.”
“I see. And do you have the first one?”
Rodney’s mouth twisted. “Not anymore. Ronon decided to use it as a throwing spike. Sheppard has got to stop letting him watch those damn ninja movies.”
“Did it work?”
“As a throwing spike? Of course. He’s Ronon. It’s embedded in a tree on M4H-585.”
“Why did you have a Batman DVD with you on a mission?”
“I get bored on overnight missions so I put a few DVDs in my pack.” Rodney slid lower on the bed, pouting like a child. “The only person who gets bored faster than me is Ronon. I lost Batman Begins, The Godfather one and two, the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, season four of Desperate Housewives-”
Carson choked on a laugh. “Desperate Housewives?”
Rodney glanced around guiltily then leaned forward. “Have you seen the hot chicks on that show?” he whispered.
“Oh, I might have caught an episode or two while I was recovering at the SGC. Very popular with the soldiers.”
“Here too.” Rodney yawned suddenly, exhaustion and the day’s stresses and emotions catching up with him. He blinked sleepily as he wriggled down further until he was lying flat. “You’re different than him, you know.”
Carson frowned in confusion. “Him who?”
“The other Carson. I mean, you’re Carson, of course, but,” Rodney yawned again, “you’re a little different than he was. You’re you.”
Carson was suddenly fascinated with the markings on the floor. “I guess two years with Michael…”
“Yeah,” Rodney said quietly. “I can’t imagine. But even if you hadn’t been with him, you’d still be different. I know. I met another me once.” Lids drooping, Rodney snuggled deeper into the bed. “The replicators constructed him; he had my memories and everything. Ronon, Teyla and Sheppard, too. They were us, but not. Different stuff had happened to them…” He trailed off as his eyes shut. “And us,” he mumbled. “They made Elizabeth, too, but she wouldn’t come with us. We tried so hard…”
He sat back as Rodney exhaled loudly and drifted to sleep. Carson made a mental note to find that mission report, though he was fairly certain he knew what had happened to those copies since they weren’t here and the replicators had been involved. Still, it was actually comforting to know Rodney and the others had experienced something similar. Maybe that was why they had accepted him so easily. He wasn’t as unique, as alone, as he’d feared.
Carson gently removed the IV from Rodney's arm and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, my friend." He pulled the sheet over Rodney then settled in the chair to keep watch. Pegasus could wait for a little while. His best friend needed him right now.
Rating: PG
Characters: Carson and Rodney with cameos by a few others
Spoilers: Sunday, This Mortal Coil, The Kindred, vague ones for Whispers and Outsiders
Word Count: ~4500
Summary: After spending several days on Atlantis doing research, Carson decides he needs an afternoon off.
A/N: Thanks to
jayne_perry for the beta. Written for
leesa_perrie who wanted "Gen, Carson and Rodney, can be with others or just them. Angst, h/c, whump, humour, banter...anything like that." Hope you like it!
What's Done is Done
Carson strolled into the infirmary office area and flopped into a hard-backed chair with a groan. “My favorite mug is missing,” he announced. “Again.”
“Did you check the research lab?” Jennifer asked absently, frowning at her laptop. “You’ve practically lived there since you arrived.”
“Don’t remind me.” He set his computer tablet on the corner of her desk and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I know more about genetic mutations associated with long term exposure to heavy ion radiation now than I ever wanted.”
“Can you help them?”
Carson shook his head sadly. “The damage is too extensive.”
“Is this what you’re looking for, Doctor?” Marie, the head medical technician, materialized with a steaming ‘Blow It Out Your Bagpipes’ cup.
“You are a lifesaver,” he pronounced before taking a huge gulp of the hot liquid. Gasping as it hit his throat, he blinked away tears. “Athosian tea? You could have warned me first.”
She giggled and winked conspiratorially at Jennifer. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were a serious tea drinker. My mistake.”
“Feeling cheeky today I see.” He shifted the mug to his other hand and grabbed his tablet, making a great show of studying it. “I’m headed to Skeltib in a few days. I take it you’ve decided you don’t want anymore nacaema?”
Jennifer straightened quickly. “She apologizes. Profusely. Don’t you, Marie?”
“Absolutely. I’ll never question your tea-drinking abilities again.”
“That’s better,” he replied with a grin. “It is rather tasty, isn’t it? Like fudge.”
“But better,” Marie added.
Jennifer sighed happily. “And not fattening.”
“I’ve finally convinced Doctor Parrish that Botany needs one of the plants,” Marie said. “Now, if only Lieutenant Devereaux can decipher the recipe.”
Carson chuckled as he headed out, leaving them to their scheming. He meandered through the hallways, nodding to passing crewmembers as he took the long way to his favorite balcony. His new line of work suited him. He was making a real difference now - curing diseases, healing the infirm, researching and documenting illnesses that could lead to vaccines and long life for those all over the galaxy. Not that he hadn’t done important work before.
Well, technically, he hadn’t. The other Carson, the real one, had. The only thing he had actually done was help Michael create hybrids and spread the Hoffan plague.
He pulled a chair to the railing and slumped in it, tilting his face to the sun and letting the crisp morning breeze whisk the ghosts away. What’s done is done, or so Ronon said. The big man was right in one respect - Carson couldn’t spend the rest of his life wallowing in guilt. But he could spend it helping others, so once the SGC had declared him fit, he’d made the long trek back to Pegasus.
Atlantis wasn’t the way he remembered it, though, the way he’d dreamed of it for two years of captivity. So many had died, including Elizabeth, and others had returned to Earth. He had never met at least half of the current expedition members, and many of the ones he did know looked at him with a blend of grief and curiosity - a never ending reminder that though he might have the memories and physical attributes of Carson Beckett, he wasn’t really him.
Not everyone reacted that way, of course. Rodney didn’t. Neither did John or Teyla. Ronon had taken a while to come around, but now he stared down anyone who looked at Carson the wrong way. Jennifer and the medical staff had been delightful, treating him as if he’d always been there. But it wasn’t his department anymore. In fact, it never actually had been.
The memory of the original Carson Beckett hung heavy around the city, and he’d decided quickly that living life as a replica was not what he wanted. Mr. Woolsey had agreed to his suggestion of going to the peoples of Pegasus. After all, he could do more out there to help the plague survivors than he ever could in a lab; plus those people might look a little more favorably on Atlantis because of his efforts - an added bonus according to Woolsey.
Carson cautiously sipped his tea as he watched the clouds chase each other across the cerulean sky. He’d spent almost every waking moment of the past ten days in that lab, and he needed some real time off. It looked to be a fine day, and a check of the mission roster showed that the only person who needed a break more than he did was not scheduled to go off-world today. He stood, stretched, and headed inside.
A transport later, he waltzed into Rodney’s lab.
“Good morning, Rodney.”
Rodney didn’t bother to look up from his computer screen. “What the hell’s so good about it?”
“Oh, come on. It’s a beautiful day out. The sun is shining, a cool breeze is blowing, and you have the day off.”
Rodney’s jaw dropped. “The day off? Does it look like I’m sitting here playing tiddlywinks?”
“Well-”
“Never mind.” Rodney pressed his palms to his eyes and yawned dramatically. “What time is it?”
“Have you been here all night again?”
Rodney glared sullenly as he raked hands through his hair. “What does it look like?”
“Well, seeing as how you’re wrinkled, scruffy, and in need of a shower-”
“Hey!”
“-I’d say yes.” Carson tugged on Rodney’s arm until he stumbled from the workstool. “Now, Doctor McKay, you are to get something to eat, go to your room, take a shower and a nap, then we are going to enjoy some fresh air this afternoon. I was thinking of fishing. How does that sound?”
Rodney’s face drained of color and his eyes went wide. He stared slack-jawed at Carson for a minute before giving a jerky nod. “Sure.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rodney mumbled, refusing to meet Carson’s eyes. “Fishing would be great. I’ll tell Radek…”
“You are a terrible liar, Rodney. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Rodney blinked then swallowed thickly and said, “I- uh, I- I’m scared of whales.”
“Whales? I thought this planet didn’t have any.”
“Hey,” Rodney shrugged, “I didn’t say it was logical.”
Carson studied Rodney. His left eye twitched, and his breathing was loud and uneven. Still lying. “Rodney.”
“What?” Rodney flushed scarlet, and his voice trembled. “I said I’d go. What time?”
Their gazes locked. Carson’s brow knitted as he stared, but Rodney’s chin lifted and he glared defiantly in return, refusing to admit whatever it was that was bothering him. For now, anyway. Deciding to wheedle it out of him later, Carson checked his watch. “I’ll drop by your quarters at 1700. That would give you several hours to eat and rest. How does that sound?”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Rodney ducked into the transporter and was gone before Carson could follow. He heaved a sigh and made his way back to the infirmary research lab where he busied himself with database queries for clues on curing the Hoffan plague. When his stomach growled loudly a few hours later, he rubbed his eyes and stood, pressing a hand to his lower back as his spine crackled. He took the fast route to the mess hall and loaded up a tray. Life in Pegasus was good, but the new chef in Atlantis was better. Spotting John and Ronon across the room, he dodged chairs and Marines to reach them.
“Hey, Carson,” John greeted with a smile. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Carson scooted close and dug in, sighing contentedly as his taste buds danced with joy. He loved lasagna “What are you gentlemen up to today?”
Ronon bit into the biggest club sandwich Carson had ever seen. “Orientation.”
“Ah, some new recruits?”
John rolled his eyes. “Scientists.”
Carson winced in sympathy. “Don’t hurt them too badly, lad. I don’t think Jennifer has received the new supply of bandages yet.”
“Don’t worry, Doc.” Ronon snatched a cookie from John’s tray. “I stopped using volunteers.” He leaned out of range as John swiped at him then stuffed the entire cookie in his mouth and chomped noisily.
“That’s because they weren’t volunteers. You were choosing them out of the crowd.” John liberated a few fries from Ronon’s plate and turned to Carson. “The last time he tried it, the guy fainted before Ronon touched him.”
“So, who do you use now?”
Ronon grinned and punched John’s shoulder lightly. “Sheppard.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” Carson munched on a corner of his garlic bread. “Doesn’t make for much of a day off, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t,” John agreed, pinning Ronon with a stare. “No more body slams. This is civilian orientation, not the WWE.”
“Not my fault if you’re an easy target,” Ronon jabbed.
“Keep it up, Chewie, and you’ll be on scientist babysitting duty for a week.”
“Where’s Teyla today?” Carson interjected
“New Athos. Some trade thing,” Ronon replied, a smirk twitching on his lips.
“I think Rodney’s in his lab,” John offered. “He and Zelenka are running diagnostics on something. I probably need to drag him down here before he puts himself in a coma.”
“I sent him to his quarters. Bloody fool’s been in his lab all night. I told him to eat and get some sleep.”
“Good. What are you doing this afternoon, Doc?” John asked as he swirled peas through his mashed potatoes.
“Once he’s rested, Rodney and I are going fishing.”
John’s fork clattered to the table, and Ronon choked on his sandwich. Both men paled as they exchanged glances.
“What is it?” Carson demanded.
“Um…” John’s eyes flicked to Ronon again before settling on Carson. “Was that your idea?”
“Yes, why?”
“What did McKay say?” Ronon asked quietly.
“Well, after he made some excuse about being afraid of whales, he agreed.” Carson pushed his irritation down and leaned forward. “Tell me why you are reacting like this. What is the significance of fishing?”
John looked helplessly at Ronon again. “Doc…”
“Spit it out, son.”
“That’s what you…the other you and Rodney were supposed to do the day he died,” Ronon answered. “McKay didn’t go fishing-”
“And so they were here when the explosion happened.” Carson massaged the bridge of his nose as the headache behind his eyes started to pound. “Oh, Rodney. It wasn’t your fault.” He glanced at John. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”
John’s eyes grew sad. “No one likes to talk about that day, Carson. And to be honest, it really didn’t occur to me, to any of us, to bring up the circumstances.”
“He blames himself, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Ronon pushed his tray away. “He’s not the only one.”
“What does that mean?”
“None of us went fishing that day.” John shifted uncomfortably, his eyes distant. “When Rodney backed out, you- he asked several of us - me, Ronon, Zelenka…”
“Lorne,” Ronon supplied.
“And probably a few more. But we’d already made plans. We-”
“It wasn’t your fault. None of you,” Carson said forcefully. “I can promise you he didn’t blame a single one of you for what happened. From what I’ve read, he died saving someone else. And I can tell you for certain that’s exactly the way he preferred it.” He held their gazes until they nodded and some of the tension seeped from their shoulders. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a fishing trip to arrange.”
“Doc,” Ronon called as Carson turned to go, “tell McKay that.”
“I will.”
John met and held his gaze. “It’s good to have you here, Carson.”
He smiled in gratitude at the intentional emphasis. “Thank you. It’s good to be here. I’ll…”
John sat up straight and reached for his comm. “This is Sheppard.” His jaw tightened and his lips pressed to a thin line as he stood. “I’ll be right there.”
Ronon stood as well. “What’s wrong?”
“Lab accident.” John glanced at Carson. “McKay’s involved. They’re headed to the infirmary.”
Carson had to jog to keep up with John and Ronon as they strode toward the transporter, faces drawn and spines stiff. Many things had changed in Atlantis during his time with Michael, not the least of which was the relationship these men had with Rodney. And Rodney with them. They were more relaxed around each other and yet more vigilant. The teasing was gentler, the laughter more genuine. The bonds of friendship he remembered had become steel cords of family. He hated to think how much pain, death, and near-death had been involved in that transition.
When they stepped out of the transporter, Rodney’s voice echoed loudly in the hallway. “-hear any more excuses! You know to check every vial, tube, and beaker before beginning anything. Were the words too big? Did you buy your degree at an estate sale?”
Ronon’s stride shortened dramatically as John’s shoulders relaxed and Carson grinned. Rodney sounded more irritated than anything, though his voice was laced with pain. When they entered, they found the minor injury area filled with scurrying nurses, an exasperated Jennifer Keller, a dark-haired man in science uniform, and Rodney - red-faced and sweating with his left arm cradled close to his chest.
“Rodney, hold still,” Jennifer said, “I haven’t finished washing the acid off yet.”
“Fine, fine.” Rodney grimaced as he stretched his arm out. Huge red blisters decorated it from his elbow to the back of his hand. “Ow!”
“Then be still.” Jennifer held his arm lightly over a basin and pour copious amounts of water over it.
Rodney glared at the young scientist. “You, go clean up the mess you made in the lab.” He clicked his comm. “Radek, meet- What’s your name?”
“Chavez,” the man said meekly.
“Meet Chavez in Chem Lab Twenty-seven. He has concentrated sulfuric acid to clean up, and he obviously is incapable of working without supervision. Yes, now.” Rodney looked at Chavez. “Why are you still here?”
Blushing a deep crimson, the young man scurried away. John and Ronon exchanged an amused glance as they ambled up to the bed Rodney was perched on.
“You okay?” John asked.
“No, I’m not okay. That moron…” Rodney’s eyes went wide when he spotted Carson. “I’m fine. Good as new.”
“Rodney,” Carson admonished, “those are second degree chemical burns on your arm. You are not fine.”
“I am so. We had plans for the afternoon, and I’m not missing them.”
Carson gaped at him. “Are you daft? We can go fishing another day.”
“No, we can’t,” Rodney insisted, his voice strained. “We’re going today.”
Jennifer stilled for a moment then said, “I need to get a few things. I’ll be right back.”
When she stepped away, Rodney pulled the IV from his good arm and swung his legs off the bed.
John grabbed his shoulder. “Whoa. Hang on a minute.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Carson asked.
Rodney’s face was white. “Fishing,” he stated quietly.
“You can’t go, Rodney,” Carson said. “You need to keep this arm dry. You aren’t going anywhere near the water.”
“Please,” Rodney whispered.
John and Ronon shuffled uncomfortably as Carson shook his head. “No.”
Rodney’s eyes darted around in panic before settling on John. “Sheppard, will you go with him instead?”
“I-”
“We can do something else,” Carson interrupted. “It doesn’t have to be fishing.”
“Yes, it does.” Rodney’s voice wavered as his breath hitched slightly. “Please, John, please take him.”
“Of course, I will,” John said. “We’ll go right now. Just-”
“John, would you and Ronon give us a moment?” Carson asked.
John hesitated, looking from Carson to Rodney and back. “Sure, Doc,” he finally said then patted Rodney’s shoulder. “We’ll be back later, buddy.”
“No, wait!” Chest heaving, Rodney called after them until the doors closed then he turned pleading eyes to Carson. “You have to go. If you won’t go fishing, go visit the Athosians or something. Just don’t stay in the city. Please.”
Carson washed his hands then accepted the ointment and bandages from Jennifer, and pulled the privacy curtain. “Let me see your arm.”
“But-”
“Now, Rodney.”
Rodney flopped back on the bed and stuck out his injured arm.
“Your other arm.”
When Rodney offered that arm, Carson reinserted the IV then took a seat. He examined Rodney’s burns carefully until he was satisfied that the damage was not extensive.
Rodney stared blindly at the ceiling. “Carson, please go fishing.”
“Why?” Carson dabbed the antiseptic cleanser and pain cream liberally over the burn area.
“Because…because you were looking forward to going.”
“I was looking forward to spending the afternoon with a good friend.”
Rodney swallowed thickly. “And I screwed it up again.”
Carson wrapped the bandage loosely around Rodney’s arm. “Again?”
Rodney struggled to a sitting position. “Carson, I need to tell you something. I should have told you before, but I… I didn’t know how. I told you when we found you that…another you died.”
“In an explosion. I remember.”
Rodney’s head dropped. “It was my fault,” he whispered.
Carson set the supplies aside and gazed quietly at Rodney until he looked up. “You set the explosion?”
“No, of course not, but-”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Carson said, his eyes not leaving Rodney’s.
“But I-”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have gone fishing,” Rodney moaned.
Carson stood and grasped Rodney’s shoulders. “It was not your fault,” he enunciated slowly.
Rodney blinked furiously and pulled away. “You don’t understand!”
“You not going fishing didn’t kill that Carson. It was an accident.”
“I lied to him!” Rodney exclaimed hoarsely. “I told him I’d promised Katie that I’d spend the day with her, but I didn’t. I just didn’t want to go, and he died. I killed one of my best friends.” His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as he turned his face away. “If I’d just gone with him…”
Carson’s heart clenched at the waves of guilt and shame pouring from his friend. “Look at me, Rodney.”
Wiping a hand over his face, Rodney took a deep breath and twisted to face him.
Carson pretended not to see the sheen of moisture in Rodney’s eyes. “If you had gone that day, what would have happened?”
“He’d still be alive.”
“And what else?”
Rodney frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What else would have happened if he hadn’t been here?”
“Um…”
Carson sat down and leaned forward, holding Rodney’s gaze. “I’ve read the report. The surgery he did on Teyla was very tricky. Without him, she might have died.”
“But she might not have. There are other doctors.”
“That’s true.” Carson nodded thoughtfully. “What if you hadn’t been here?”
“What?”
“If you and he had gone fishing, who would have made the connection about Watson?”
Rodney’s brow furrowed. “Watson?”
“The other scientist exposed to the device.”
“Right. He and Hewston…” Rodney’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, if I hadn’t been here-”
“All those people in the infirmary would have died, including Teyla and whoever might have been sitting by her bedside.”
Rodney looked towards where John and Ronon had been standing, then back at Carson. “It’s not fair. To trade one life for another.”
“He would have offered his life for theirs. Trust me, I know.” Carson smiled gently. “Not being here would have killed him. He chose to not abandon Watson.” He stood and squeezed Rodney’s shoulder. “He put himself at risk because he wanted to save lives more than anything else.”
Rodney’s body sagged under Carson’s hand. “God, I am so sorry. I know it isn’t much, but I’ve wanted to say it for so long. I just wish…”
The guilt Carson had tried to move past surfaced again. “Me, too,” he sighed. “I wish so many things - that I had been stronger when Michael forced me to help him, that I had sabotaged his work somehow, that I had been able to save Teyla’s people.” He began to pace. “That I- the other me had never played with the retrovirus or helped the Hoffans. Hell, I wish sometimes that I’d never heard of Atlantis or the Stargate program.”
“Carson, you don’t mean that. Besides, you didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices, Rodney. I could have let Michael kill every one of those villagers he marched in front of me. How many lives would I have saved if I’d let them die?”
Rodney shifted until he was upright. “You couldn’t have known what he’d do.”
“It was Michael. I knew but I chose to ignore it, chose to help the ones I could see.” Carson turned away as the memories rose unbidden. “He used them as hybrid test subjects until he got the formula right, then he took the Athosians.”
“What’s done is done,” Rodney murmured.
Carson turned to face Rodney with a wry smile. “I know that, lad. Been talking to Ronon, have you?”
Rodney’s shoulders slumped as he nodded. “I understand the words, but I don’t know how to put it into practice. Not really. So I just pretend like everything’s fine.”
“And work until you drop from exhaustion?”
“That, too.”
“Stop blaming yourself. You aren’t God, no matter how hard you try to be. He - the other Carson - he wouldn’t hold you responsible for what happened.”
Rodney sighed heavily. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Carson replied with a firm nod. “It’s the one thing I am certain of, so stop holding on to all that guilt.”
“I will if you will.”
Carson held out his hand. “You have yourself a deal, Doctor McKay.”
Eyes wide and vulnerable, Rodney stared at him for a moment. Emotion flickered on his face then slowly smoothed into something resembling acceptance. Rodney grasped Carson’s hand tightly and shook it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Carson checked the IV drip then handed Rodney a cup of water. “Drink. You need to replace the fluids those burns are sucking up.” He took a seat while Rodney gulped obediently. “By the way, what were you doing in that lab?”
“What?”
“I ordered you to eat and rest. Why were you in the lab?”
“Oh, that.” Rodney slurped until the cup was empty then put it back on the bedside table. “I was in the middle of a perfectly lovely dream about…” He trailed off and flushed a brilliant red. “Never mind that. Anyway, I was asleep when what’s-his-name called. An off-world team had brought back a device filled with an unknown substance that he was supposed to test. Someone had left the top off a container on the worktable, and he knocked it over. When I got there, the acid was spreading over the table, heading straight for that device he was studying. I moved it out of the way but not before acid spilled all over my arm.”
“If someone else left the top off...”
“When I find out who did it, their ass is mine, too, but we have lab procedures, and one of them is to check the containers before you begin.” Rodney rubbed at his forehead. “The rules are there for a reason. I can’t hold their hands all the time.”
“I’m sure they are all relieved to hear that.” Carson grinned mischievously. “Now, since you are stuck here until those fluids are in you, what do you say to a movie? I have a copy of Braveheart.”
Rodney shook his head. “I am not watching that again.”
“Oh, come on. It’s a great movie.”
“Filled with blood and gore and men in skirts.” Rodney made a face. “Not a chance.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Scotland is known for William Wallace. Canada is known for Dudley Do-Right.” Carson couldn’t hold in a chuckle at Rodney’s indignant spluttering.
“That isn’t funny. I’ll have you know, Canada has plenty of famous heroes.”
Carson folded his arms over his chest. “Name one.”
Rodney’s chin lifted. “Me.”
How could he possibly argue with that? Carson laughed. “I stand corrected. What would you like to watch?”
A pleased flush crept up Rodney’s neck. “Jeannie sent me a copy of The Dark Knight.”
“And what is that?”
“Are you kidding? It’s the… Oh, um, well, they remade Batman and this is the sequel.”
“I see. And do you have the first one?”
Rodney’s mouth twisted. “Not anymore. Ronon decided to use it as a throwing spike. Sheppard has got to stop letting him watch those damn ninja movies.”
“Did it work?”
“As a throwing spike? Of course. He’s Ronon. It’s embedded in a tree on M4H-585.”
“Why did you have a Batman DVD with you on a mission?”
“I get bored on overnight missions so I put a few DVDs in my pack.” Rodney slid lower on the bed, pouting like a child. “The only person who gets bored faster than me is Ronon. I lost Batman Begins, The Godfather one and two, the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, season four of Desperate Housewives-”
Carson choked on a laugh. “Desperate Housewives?”
Rodney glanced around guiltily then leaned forward. “Have you seen the hot chicks on that show?” he whispered.
“Oh, I might have caught an episode or two while I was recovering at the SGC. Very popular with the soldiers.”
“Here too.” Rodney yawned suddenly, exhaustion and the day’s stresses and emotions catching up with him. He blinked sleepily as he wriggled down further until he was lying flat. “You’re different than him, you know.”
Carson frowned in confusion. “Him who?”
“The other Carson. I mean, you’re Carson, of course, but,” Rodney yawned again, “you’re a little different than he was. You’re you.”
Carson was suddenly fascinated with the markings on the floor. “I guess two years with Michael…”
“Yeah,” Rodney said quietly. “I can’t imagine. But even if you hadn’t been with him, you’d still be different. I know. I met another me once.” Lids drooping, Rodney snuggled deeper into the bed. “The replicators constructed him; he had my memories and everything. Ronon, Teyla and Sheppard, too. They were us, but not. Different stuff had happened to them…” He trailed off as his eyes shut. “And us,” he mumbled. “They made Elizabeth, too, but she wouldn’t come with us. We tried so hard…”
He sat back as Rodney exhaled loudly and drifted to sleep. Carson made a mental note to find that mission report, though he was fairly certain he knew what had happened to those copies since they weren’t here and the replicators had been involved. Still, it was actually comforting to know Rodney and the others had experienced something similar. Maybe that was why they had accepted him so easily. He wasn’t as unique, as alone, as he’d feared.
Carson gently removed the IV from Rodney's arm and squeezed his shoulder. "Thank you, my friend." He pulled the sheet over Rodney then settled in the chair to keep watch. Pegasus could wait for a little while. His best friend needed him right now.