SGA: Untitled McDex 1/?
Title: Untitled McDex 1/?
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Dex, Kolya/McKay
Timeline: Late season 4, post-Sunday, but wanders off before First Strike.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: All and sundry.
Word Count: ~2200
Series: Follows Broken
Prompt: 50 Darkfics 02: Dark Path
Summary: Rodney is the only one who can save Atlantis, but who is going to save Rodney?



Chapter One

The mess hall was unusually crowded. Most of the city's inhabitants chose to take their meals outside, on any one of Atlantis' hundreds of balconies, most of which offered far more privacy--and a better view--than the mess, with its military issue furnishings. Today, however, a late summer storm, chill with the threat of impending winter, had cast a damp pall over the city, driving its inhabitants back inside.

Ronon tried to block out the sounds of their conversations--the words that echoed and blended in the crowded room, transformed into meaningless sound--but one voice in particular came through clearly, as though his ears has been specially tuned to its frequency.

"--the amazing thing is the way it ties it with the gate technology. Any planet with a stargate--I don't know yet if it works with space gates, we'll have to check--"

Several tables away, McKay was deep in conversation with Zelenka, excitedly describing some piece of ancient technology that he had discovered. McKay's hair was sticking out in all directions, his eyes were deeply shadowed, and he was wearing the same shirt--Ronon was certain--that he had been wearing the day before; all evidence that he had spent the night in his lab, most likely without any sleep.

Ronon dragged his eyes away from the scientist, reminding himself that McKay's sleeping habits were none of his business. He tried to distract himself, by going over the training plan he and Sheppard were developing to train Atlantis' new arrivals. All too soon, however, both his thoughts, and his eyes, returned to McKay.

There were no emergencies, or urgent missions, that required the scientist's attention--the opposite, in fact; Atlantis had been unusually quiet these past weeks--yet McKay had been working non-stop, and the toll was beginning to show. Ronon could see that the man was headed towards collapse, but he was reluctant to confront him. If his concern had been that of soldier, worried that a teammate was losing his effectiveness, Ronon would not have hesitated. He knew, however, that his concern stemmed from feelings far more personal: feelings that he could not afford to foster by giving in to his protective urges.

He had learned, by hard truth, just how costly such attachments could be. How many lives had been lost, when he deserted his post, after the Wraith attacked Sateda? He thought then, that his disloyalty was worth it, if he could save Melena; instead, it only gave him the opportunity to watch her die. Many more of his people might have escaped, if only he had done his duty, instead of being led by the dictates of his heart. He had found his unit, and rejoined the fight, but even then he knew that he no longer fought for Sateda; he fought for revenge.

When the Wraith had made him a runner, it had seemed a fitting end; cast out, hunted, and alone. Always alone, with only his anguish, and his guilt, as company. Eventually those feelings faded, replaced by a simmering anger, and he began to turn the tables, hunting down those who pursued him, and exacting his revenge, one Wraith at a time. He had been able to forgive himself for the mistakes he had made, but he had also made a vow--on the names of all his fallen comrades--that he would never make those mistakes again.

It had not been difficult for him to keep his distance, from the others on Atlantis, as he had long since become accustomed to solitude. When those dangerous, and insidious feelings had begun to creep into his heart again, they were so subtle that he did not even notice them at first. It was not until McKay's near brush with death--courtesy of the Ancient's ascension machine--that Ronon began to realize just how deeply his feelings for McKay really went. The thought of watching him die had left a hollowness in his chest, and a sense of helplessness, that he had not felt for many years.

McKay had recovered, and Ronon had struggled to regain a sense of distance. Even now, he could not be certain, that if he was forced to make a choice between protecting Atlantis, and protecting Rodney McKay, he would be able to make the right choice. If he allowed his attachment to McKay to grow any deeper, he knew that he would become a liability to his team, and to the city itself.

Ronon surfaced from his thoughts, to find that McKay had turned away from his conversation, and was now returning his gaze with an expression that was equal parts annoyance and confusion. Ronon pulled his eyes away with some difficulty, stood--abandoning his untouched tray on the table--and left the room.

***

"It sends the signal back to the receiver, through the stargate--without even dialing the gate, which I would have sworn is impossible--and can pinpoint the location of the device to within inches." Rodney emphasized his point by waving his spoon through the air, coming dangerously close to smacking Radek in the nose with it. "I know I don't have to tell you just how useful this technology could be."

"Or how dangerous, if one of the receivers was to fall into the wrong hands," Radek said, scooting his chair back, to place himself out of range of Rodney's silverware.

"That's the beauty of it!" Rodney crowed. "You can't even use it, if you don't have the ATA gene, not even if someone activates it for you. We could send the Wraith a box of them for Christmas and it wouldn't do--" Rodney broke off mid-sentence, and slammed his spoon down on the table. "He's doing it again!"

Radek looked at him blankly, lost by the sudden shift in conversation. "Who is doing what?"

"Ronon!" he said, exasperation clear in his voice. "He's doing the creepy, staring thing, that makes me think he's wondering what my liver tastes like."

Turning slightly, Radek followed his gaze, and saw that the Satedan was indeed staring at Rodney, with a strangely intent expression on his face. "He has done this before?"

"Only recently," Rodney said, still watching Ronon. "It seems like every time I turn around, he's there, doing the creepy eyes thing," he wiggled his spoon reprovingly in Ronon's direction, "and every time I decide to go over there and ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing, he just--" Rodney crossed his arms and glared disapprovingly at Ronon's suddenly departing back. "Does that. Either he's bored, and has made annoying me his new favorite hobby, or he's planning to kill me."

"I rather doubt that he's planning to kill you," Radek said, amused.

"Probably not," Rodney agreed, "but if I go missing, check his knives for my blood. All his knives." He leaned back in his chair, a sudden, bone deep exhaustion crashing over him like a wave. Thinking back through the past days, he was unable to remember the last time he had slept. "Is this still Thursday?"

"Saturday," Radek said, giving Rodney a concerned glance. "Saturday morning."

"Huh," Rodney said absently, staring at his plate. "That explains why they're serving eggs for 'lunch'. What happened to Friday?"

"I believe that was the day you spent pestering Major Lorne into testing your new toy."

"I don't pester, and it's not a toy, it's--"

"--a highly sophisticated piece of equipment, that will quite possibly save all of our lives one day," Radek finished for him, rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes, I know."

"Then you also know--" Rodney's retort was broken off by a jaw-cracking yawn. He dragged the back of his hand across his eyes and reached for his coffee, protesting when Radek snatched the cup from his hand.

"I also know that you have been awake for far too long," he said, putting the cup of coffee out of reach. "No more caffeine, and no more shiny toys, until you get some sleep."

"Awww, Dad, but I don't wanna," Rodney said in a tone of exaggerated petulance.

"Yes, but it is a school night, and you have exams tomorrow," Radek quipped, rising from the table. "I should probably walk you back to your quarters, to be sure you don't fall asleep in some corner along the way."

"Might not be a bad idea," Rodney agreed, pushing back his chair. "I feel like I could sleep for a week." Before he could get to his feet, however, his headset squawked, and Dr. Weir's voice rang out in his ear.

"All senior staff should report to the briefing room immediately for a priority meeting."

"Looks like the nap is canceled," Rodney said in resignation. "Now hand over my coffee."

***

John leaned back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest, trying to project an air of unconcern. The atmosphere in the room was tense; everyone knew that an emergency meeting would be unlikely to bring good news, but no one wanted to speculate on just how bad the news might be. At least not out loud.

It looked like nearly everyone was here; only Rodney and Elizabeth were still missing. Across the table, Radek kept glancing from his watch to the door, a worried expression on his face. In a hurry to get started? Or did he have some place better to be? Radek had to know, as well as any of them, that any meeting on Atlantis, especially one marked emergency--or, in Elizabeth's Diplomatese, "priority"--would be likely to drag on for hours. He might as well settle back and get comfortable.

A few moments later, Elizabeth strode into the room, her face set into a neutral mask and her back ramrod straight. She glanced quickly around the room, before moving to stand behind her usual seat. "Good, most of you are here," she said. "Has anyone seen Dr. McKay?"

"He left the mess hall at the same time as I did," Radek said, glancing again at his watch. "He needed to stop by the lab, to pick up his laptop, but he should have been here by now."

"While we wait," John said, "how about you tell us what's going on."

"I think it would be better to wait until Dr. McKay arrives," Elizabeth said, hands tightening on the back of the chair, turning her knuckles the color of bone. "I would rather not have to go through this twice, and we are going to need his input." She raised a hand, and tapped her headset. "Rodney?"

"I'm here!" The call came not from the headset, but from some distance down the hall. A few moments later they heard his footsteps, and then he rounded the corner, coming into view through the open door.

John immediately snapped his attention back to Elizabeth. "Ok, he's here, why don't you--"

She cut him off, her eyes fixed on Rodney, who had just taken a seat next to John. "Rodney?" she asked, concern filling her voice, "are you all right?

Every eye turned to stare at Rodney. John was so shocked, by his friend's appearance, that Elizabeth's ominous news was immediately pushed to the back of his mind. Rodney's face was pale and drawn, and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes were sunken, and deeply shadowed, and glittered far too brightly.

"I'm fine," Rodney said, flashing Elizabeth a tight, twitchy, and utterly unconvincing, smile.

John instinctively reached out to touch Rodney's forehead, checking for a fever, but his hand was batted away before he felt more than the slightest brush of damp, overheated skin.

"No touching," Rodney snapped, leaning back, out of easy reach.

"Maybe you should go to the infirmary," Elizabeth suggested cautiously.

Rodney took a deep breath, and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, to wipe at his brow. "I'm fine," he repeated, "a cold, maybe. Can we assume that you called this meeting to discuss something more urgent than my runny nose?"

Elizabeth regarded him, eyes narrowed, for another long moment, then she nodded, and took her seat at the conference table. "I'm afraid that what I have to tell you now is not good," she said, looking around the table at each of them in turn. "Early this morning, our long range sensors detected a fleet of Wraith hive ships. They are at least six weeks away, but it appears that they are on a direct course for Atlantis."

"We've gotten rather good at dealing with the Wraith," Rodney said, "and we do have a fully charged ZedPM now."

"Unfortunately," Elizabeth said, "we have never faced them in these numbers."

"Just how many ships are we talking about?" John asked.

"When we first detected the fleet, this morning, there were five hive ships," Elizabeth said. "Since then, two more ships have joined them. We can only assume, that the Wraith have decided to put aside their internal conflicts, to stand against a common enemy. Us." She stared down at her folded hands for a moment, and when she looked back up, her face was grim. "I have already been in contact with the SGC, and as of now we are under direct orders to begin the evacuation of Atlantis."