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A crackling in Rodney's radio startled him. John's voice filled his ear.
“Hey, Rodney! Just a reminder—it's team vacation time! We're meeting in an hour at the Jumper Bay…”
"What? Wait. Already? I'm still in the middle of a simulation," Rodney whined. "Can't we wait a little longer? I don't even know what to do all day on P3X-467 anyway."
"No arguments. We've been planning this for weeks now, and you knew exactly what to expect. Team bonding is important. Besides, I can't wait to try out my new surfboard. It would do you good to get some sun, too."
"Risk skin cancer, you mean," Rodney muttered, but he’d already started shutting down his laptop. As much as he hated sun, sand, and cold water, he was looking forward to spending a day with his team—and the sight of John Sheppard in his swim trunks would just be a bonus, right?
Who're you fooling, you idiot? Rodney groaned. Just thinking about that lean, perfect body had him adjusting himself. John was so beautiful… and so out of his league. Why should John ever set his eyes on an overweight scientist when he could choose from every female and certainly many of the male members on the expedition and on every planet he set foot on?
His crush had accompanied Rodney from the moment John sat in his chair in Antarctica—the universe above him, looking at him with astonishment and wonder. Of course, he would never do anything about it. As long as he hid it well in the depths of his soul, his heart wouldn't be broken.
He cherished what they built together, though. The boyish friendship, their bantering, the way they had their backs. He had stopped counting who saved whose life a long time ago. There were more ways to bond, to be in a sort of relationship, than be sexually involved. And he’d never risk what the two of them had together by acting on a foolish, unrequited infatuation with no future.
“Be on time! We don’t wanna have to wait. Or do I have to send Ronon?” John tore him from his thoughts.
“My time is precious, Sheppard. I can't just drop everything like certain other, more useless specimens,” he snapped, hiding his true feelings behind his usual snark.
“I don’t wanna hear anything about it. When you’re not there, prepare to explain that to him. See you in an hour, princess.”
The telltale chirp of the radio stopped Rodney from coming up with a worthy reply, and a smile tugged at his mouth. Bossy teasing or not, it felt nice to be included.
One hour later, though not a minute before, Rodney joined his team at Jumper One. Seeing Ronon nod and Teyla smile at him warmed his heart.
“Knew you were coming,” Ronon said.
“Good morning, Rodney. It is nice to have you with us. The weather is pleasant, and we all will have a wonderful day together,” Teyla greeted him affectionately.
John stuck his head out of the hatch. "Okay, everyone, hop in. I want to leave sometime today.”
Five minutes later, they were already high in the skies.
“Why do we have to set up camp in the middle of the beach again?” Rodney complained, looking around. “The sand gets everywhere, and there's no shade at all.”
"Rodney, relax. Why aren’t you enjoying the idyllic atmosphere and the tranquility?” John said, giving him a playful bump. “Finally, nobody’s around bothering us. Stop whining and help us get the stuff out of the Jumper.”
“Fine. But when I get home with a first-class sunburn, I'm totally blaming you.”
“Yeah, Rodney, I'll be your personal cooling-lotion-applying servant. Promise,” John joked, already looking away—completely missing the sudden blush spreading across Rodney’s face.
Rodney mumbled something under his breath, grabbing his backpack, a blanket, and one of the folding chairs.
Half an hour later, he sat on the chair, laptop on his knees, and the blanket draped around him. The other blankets were spread out on the floor, along with a few pillows and two boxes of food.
Teyla also brought the two bottles of a local wine-like beverage, which they had received as a gift at the last official meeting with the Plyrians—one already open.
Teyla insisted on starting the day with a round of the sweet-tasting drink. "It was a friendly gesture, and we should honor it by starting our day off at one of their recommended places with it.”
Rodney opened his mouth, wanting to refuse, but Ronon cut him off. "No citrus—already checked.” He pressed a glass into Rodney’s hand.
“Come on, Rodney, lighten up a little. See it as a little reward. It's not all about work. We won't tell Radek.” John winked at him.
Rodney grimaced but raised his glass. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt a little off. Maybe John was right, and he should go with the moment. He sipped his drink. It tasted like honey, and he could make out a hint of alcohol. Great. With this heat and sunshine, that might not be a good idea. He put the rest down beside him, watching how the others emptied their glasses.
When John went for a second round, he was about to comment on it, but then he thought better of it. John would just make fun of his so-called “exaggerated complaints” again anyway. Ha, he would see what good it did him when he was lying in the Jumper later with a thick head. Rodney tried to focus on his laptop instead, but found himself inevitably distracted by the alluring view beside him.
John lay on his blanket, having already shed his clothes, and enjoyed the warming rays, wearing nothing but his Speedos. Rodney, being painfully aware of John's lean body, had to summon all his willpower not to stare at him in a completely inappropriate manner. Instead, he turned his gaze to Teyla and Ronon on the other side. While Teyla sat cross-legged with her eyes closed, Ronon crouched nearby, tossing small stones into the water.
"Anyone coming in with me?" John asked, getting up from the blanket and walking to the edge of the water.
Rodney snorted dismissively, surprised to see that Ronon only shook his head, and Teyla didn't even open her eyes. He watched as John merely shrugged and ran off, launching himself headfirst into the waves.
A little later, John returned to get his surfboard, visibly irritated when still no one was willing to join him in the water.
“What's wrong with you sleepyheads? We're here to have an adventure, not to sit around gawking.”
Rodney, feeling a sudden annoyance rising within himself, was just about to start telling him where exactly he could stick his adventure when Teyla beat him to it.
“I am not sleeping, Colonel,” she spat, leaving Rodney speechless, mouth agape. “I’m meditating.”
“If you want an adventure, you have to go hunting instead of chasing waves,” Ronon grumbled and continued throwing stones.
“Not everything has to be about a hunt,” John snapped back. “Today is about fun.”
“Your kind of fun,” Rodney chimed in. “I’m perfectly happy doing something meaningful in my free time.”
“I can fight my own battles, McKay,” Ronon scolded, glaring at Rodney now.
“Of course, your Neanderthal brain can only come up with fighting,” Rodney shot back sharply.
“Careful, Rodney. Watch what you say, or you’ll be standing in the corner of the jumper,” John warned him.
“Be careful yourself. I'm not some little brat you can boss around.” Rodney snorted indignantly. He felt thoroughly flustered, and a headache began to build behind his eyes. Perfect. Exactly what he needed. He really shouldn’t have come along.
“Maybe we should all mind our words and go on a walk together. Let the beautiful landscape calm our souls.” Despite her gentle words, the sharpness of Teyla’s voice betrayed her growing frustration.
John rolled his eyes. “Can we just not turn this into a botanical excursion? It’s supposed to be a nice, relaxing day out with the team rather than an exploration of the local flora and fauna.”
“I was unaware that enjoying our surroundings required your approval.” Teyla sounded outright pissed now.
Rodney couldn’t hold back any longer. The headache now was impossible to ignore, and he felt nauseous. “God, can't you all just shut up? I have important work to do and would rather not have to listen to your ridiculous verbal sparring. Scientific research is the only valuable thing, and you're all just getting in my way with your damn quarrel about fun!”
“Do you ever stop making everything about you, McKay?” John exploded. “It’s exhausting being around you, you know?”
“Rodney, the cause of your discomfort is that you focus on science alone and disregard the needs of your heart and soul,” Teyla admonished.
“Teyla’s right. You should let go and enjoy yourself,” Ronon added dryly.
“Ah, now it’s three against one? Together you feel strong?” Rodney sprang to his feet, his face beet-red with anger.
“We’re not your emotional support system, Rodney,” John snapped. “This was supposed to be a break. Why did you even come along? You just… suck all the fun out of everything.”
“Fine. I don’t have to annoy you with my brilliant self. Fuck you!” Rodney shot back, his voice high and shaking.
“Fuck you! It’s always the same old story—You’re brilliant, we get it. We all owe you our lives. Sure. We need you. But that doesn’t mean anyone actually wants you around. We can do better than having to protect the narcissistic bore you are.” John was panting now, his words hanging in the air like a sword.
Rodney closed his mouth, gaping in horror. His shoulders slumped in defeat, tears pricking at his eyes. He didn’t need to hear any more of those hurtful insults. He turned around abruptly and, without looking back, stomped over to the Jumper, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He closed the hatch and locked it.
He needed to be alone. Let the others bash each other’s heads outside—he didn’t care. How had he ever thought they could be his friends? John was right. It was always the same old story, just not the way John had said it.
All his life, whenever Rodney had thought he could feel safe, feel accepted, someone had found a way to pick on him. He sank onto one of the benches and buried his face in his hands, tears running down his cheeks—whether from anger or despair, he couldn’t tell.
He sat there for quite a while, letting the emotions wash over him. Gradually, he began to feel calmer. He noticed that his headache had also improved. In fact, it had gone away completely. He no longer felt sick either. The unbridled anger had vanished, leaving behind an uneasy feeling of wrongness. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this enraged, this hurt in his life. Everyone’s words still sliced through him like a knife. But in hindsight, he had to admit he hadn’t gone soft on John either.
How could he have lost control so fast? How the hell could they all have lost it so badly?
He was used to Ronon always getting straight to the point. No beating around the bush, no sugarcoating. Yes, he was sharper than usual, especially with John, but that was nothing he couldn't handle.
What had really shaken him was Teyla. He had never seen her so harsh, so... so undiplomatic and cutting. But honestly, seeing Teyla lose her temper almost relieved him. It made Teyla a little more... human and less… perfect.
But John... God... that had hurt him the most. John had just been cruel. Sure, John had always had a special sense of humor, and sometimes his comments bordered on bullying. But today… it had been different—it went deeper. It was pure anger and disgust that John had hurled at Rodney.
How could he ever face John again? How could he forget that look of contempt?
A deep, painful rift now lay between him and John, whom he would have described as his best friend just that morning, and who was even more than that in his dreams. Would they ever be able to heal it? Would he even want to?
Somehow they would have to find a way to at least work together professionally after these terrible events. He would miss the lightheartedness. He had opened up his rough exterior, his hard armor, to John, and had now been bitterly disappointed.
What would he do if John wanted to apologize? Would he be able to forgive him? Could he ever trust him again, even remotely?
Rodney sighed. They had to think of something. After all, they were adults with great responsibility. They couldn't afford not to work together as a team. Atlantis couldn't afford it.
He felt the rage subside. His thoughts stopped spiraling incessantly, and he felt much calmer than he had even a few minutes earlier.
Maybe things weren't so hopelessly screwed after all. Maybe they could make things good between them. Surely, John would want that too. They all would.
But why hadn't anyone followed him? Not Teyla, not Ronon, and not John.
By now, he would have expected John to pound on the door, trying to come in and somehow take back his words, or at least tone them down.
It was unlike them all to ignore such an argument, to just not care about him. It wasn't normal. He didn't feel normal, either.
Never before had he felt so full of rage, as if the emotion were enveloping him and eating him up from the inside. Nothing had mattered more than acting on the negative.
He could still feel it. But it had receded into the background, had begun to dissipate, just as the darkness of storm clouds gave way to the brightness of the blue sky.
Now, he could hardly understand why he had reacted so emotionally, why he hadn't just turned around and walked away. It was as if something had pushed him beyond limits, overriding his usual behavior and judgment.
He did feel more like himself in here. He frowned.
If he’d suddenly begun to see things differently, why was no one else on his team able to put the enormity of their reactions into perspective?
Did it have anything to do with whether they were inside the Jumper or outside? Could something in the planet's atmosphere be affecting them? It wouldn't be the first time they'd fallen afoul of some fucked-up alien phenomenon.
He booted up the Jumper systems and scanned the surroundings. The incoming data immediately appeared on the screen.
“Okay, let's get to the bottom of this,” Rodney murmured. “We have… Oxygen, Nitrogen, Carbon Dioxide… Argon… Water… all within human-tolerable range. Hmm…no methane, ammonia, sulfur… nothing out of the—oh, no... that’s not good!”
Rodney stared at the split screen. A baseline ran evenly across it and the live readings traced over it in a brighter color. On the left, the one with the Jumper’s interior readings, matched the baseline nearly perfectly. But it was the right side that made his skin prickle. The outside measurements should have followed along. But they fucking didn’t. That line rose above it, not spiking, but elevated.
The scan showed a significant increase in particle concentrations. The distribution was too uniform to be clusters of dust, too persistent to be random. According to the specifications, the particles were of carbon-rich, organic origin and, what worried him most, within a narrow, respirable size range.
But where did they come from? They couldn’t just appear out of nowhere. There was only one logical explanation. The native flora must constantly release a massive amount of bioaerosols, enriching the air with psychogenic substances.
Spores!
Damn it! So the problem was airborne. Something had affected them all without them realizing it! And consuming that Plyrian brew had made them even more receptive!
Rodney shuddered at the memory of the powerful, destructive emotions that had just consumed him. It should have been a clue that they had steadily diminished once he’d returned to the Jumper. Clearly, it hadn’t affected only his feelings—it had affected his thinking as well.
Looking back now and knowing about the spores, their verbal altercations appeared in a completely new light. The way they acted around each other, the intensity of the insults, the sheer cruelty of the words, this all had been so far from normal.
How was this even possible? For something to provoke reactions this big, it had to involve strong neuroactive compounds, of that he was sure. He quickly entered all the parameters from the scan into the Jumper’s medical search engine, skimming over the flood of information that immediately appeared. God, he'd never hear the end of it if Carson found out he was resorting to medical hocus pocus. Well, desperate times, desperate measures… right?
It didn't take long before his gut clenched at what he saw. According to the results, the spores not only affected the limbic system in a negative way but also suppressed the prefrontal, inhibitory regions of their brains. So it hadn't just made them angry. It had removed their inhibitions and stripped them of emotional restraint!
And his team was still exposed to it. Shit. Their thinking and judgment would only grow more impaired the longer they remained outside. Worse still—if this was affecting them as badly as he feared, then they weren't safe around each other.
Rodney paced back and forth. They wouldn't even notice anything was wrong. What should he do? He knew for a fact the jumper wasn't stocked with hazmat gear. If he went outside, he would inevitably be affected again after a short time. But what choice did he have? Only he could do anything about it. It was ‘one for all,’ right?
Somehow he had to get John, Teyla, and Ronon to go with him into the Jumper. After all, the effect had worn off pretty quickly for him. And it was the only thing he could do anyway.
He had to try to explain his findings to them and trust that he would have enough time before he himself would be influenced again. Either they would be convinced, or he would have to reach them in some other way. He would think of something. He had to.
He took a deep breath. “There's no better time than now. So come on. Don't be such a wimp.”
Before he could talk himself out of it again, he opened the rear hatch and set off.
“Ah, here comes the spoilsport again. Did you go home and cry to your mom?” John sneered. “Oh no, she didn't want you around either. You've always been a handful, I bet.”
Of course, John was the first to ‘welcome’ him. Even though Rodney knew that it was beyond John’s control, the mocking tone stung like a stab. So did the unpleasant memories that those careless words unknowingly, yet painfully aptly, stirred. He wanted nothing more than to get away, but he had no time to lose.
“John, that doesn't matter right now,” he urged. “Just listen to me. Something is affecting you... I mean, not just you, but Ronon and Teyla too. All of us. This planet has dangerous airborne spores. They lower inhibitions and affect impulse control. Make you say things you don't mean. We have to go back to the Jumper. The environmental filter gives protection,” Rodney rushed, almost stumbling over his words.
“Don’t be so dramatic, McKay. Who wants to know? Leave us alone with your scientific nonsense. It’s not always about you and your brilliance!” John practically spat the last word in disgust. “Stop whining and suck it up. I always knew Radek would’ve been the better choice.”
“John, I know you don’t mean any of it,” Rodney pleaded. “You have to realize it, too. We’re friends. You wouldn’t do that to me. Just listen to what you’re saying.” Rodney tried to make John see reason. Maybe reminding him of their friendship, of what they meant to each other, would get through to him.
“Leave it. He's in a bad mood.” Ronon interjected from the side. He was sitting with his back against a tree, carving a stick, not even looking up. “He didn't want to let me go have fun.”
“Then go! No one's stopping you,” John snapped.
“That’s not true. You did.” Ronon glared at John.
“So, now you’re saying I’m a liar?” John shot back, taking a step towards him.
“Where’s Teyla?” Rodney tried to intervene, and luckily enough, John’s attention immediately returned to him.
“How should I know? She was suddenly gone.” John shrugged. “She’ll be back again. It’s none of your business, is it?” He turned his back on Rodney.
All of Rodney's alarm bells rang at these words. “You just let her go? God, John. Don’t you see how wrong all of this is? You’d never do any of this. But you know what? I shouldn't have expected anything else.”
Rodney had no idea why he was actually making such an effort. John obviously didn't care. He had always been inconsiderate and reckless. “I always knew that ‘leave no one behind’ was just an empty phrase to you.”
John spun around. “Don't say that again,” he growled, his face contorted with rage.
But Rodney wasn’t about to let anyone shut him up that easily. What John could do, he could do too, and even better.
“Ha! My ass! I will say it again! And Ronon can back me up! Who left me hanging in the tree to go chase after Ford, huh? And later… who didn’t give a damn if I got buried in the tunnels under the Lord Protector’s tower, as long as drain all the fucking power from the ZedPM? I’d love to hear what Holland would say about all that. But wait—we can’t ask him, can we? Because he’s dead!”
Chin high, Rodney’s face lit up with smug satisfaction. It lasted only for a brief moment—then John, blind with rage, swung his fist and punched him square in the face.
Pain exploded through his cheekbone and nose. He threw his hands up in protection as blood spurted between his fingers and ran down his arms.
Along with the throbbing in his head, a sudden chill spread through his body. What had he done? Not only had he missed his chance to convince John, he had also destroyed any bond he had with John, let alone any hope of a deeper relationship.
He should have known that the effects of the spores would return much too quickly, given that he already had a basic concentration in his system.
At that moment, however, all he could focus on was the roar of his blood—until a distant voice, calling his name over and over, pulled him back to awareness.
“Rodney. Rodney! I’m so sorry. Rodney, let me see your face. Please, Rodney. I don’t know what came over me. You said spores? Dammit, how did we not know about that?”
“Doesn't matter. Sheppard. He's right, though. We should leave as soon as possible.” Ronon chimed in.
Slowly, the sharp, immediate pain subsided and gave way to a constant but bearable background noise.
He looked up into the worried, and at last clear, eyes of his friend… or what he hoped was still his friend.
“John? Is that you now?”
John nodded jerkily.
“I guess the emotional outburst had a sobering effect,” Rodney mused. “Whatever just happened knocked us out of the spiral and cut the psychogenic effect of the spores. But they're still in the air, and it'll build up again. I so don't want to stay here to see that happen. Can we just go now?” He winced. “Ouch—my nose must be broken. Did you have to hit so hard?”
“Jesus, Rodney. I'm … no… I don't …" John stammered, running his fingers through his hair, looking thunderstruck. “Look, I wasn't—”
“You can both do this later,” Ronon cut him off. “Let's go get Teyla and then get out of here.”
“I'm already here,” Teyla said from behind them. “I was just on my way back when I was shocked by John punching Rodney.” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing John. “What in the name of the Ancestors made you do that?”
John sighed. “I'll explain it later, Teyla. Let’s just get inside the Jumper. Believe me, we have to go now!”
Teyla hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I trust you. Lead the way.”
They grabbed their few belongings and hurried to the Jumper, closing the hatch as soon as they were inside.
They didn't talk on the short flight back, each of them still lingering on what had just happened. It wasn't long until the stargate came into view, and John punched the address into the DHD.
“Atlantis, this is Sheppard. We're returning to base. Have a medical team standing by. Rodney's injured and we might all be compromised. I repeat. Have Beckett come to the Jumper Bay. We’ll stay in the Jumper for contamination protocols. Atlantis, do you copy?”
“Jumper One. Copy that. The medical team is on its way, John.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded concerned but firm.
“Good. ETA in two minutes. Sheppard out.”
Rodney stood on his favorite balcony, the slight evening breeze cooling his battered nose and cheek. His nose was broken, who would have thought, and had to be straightened, but thankfully, his cheekbone was just badly bruised. He'd be walking around with a magnificent black eye—no, make that two. A beaten nose made for an outstanding bilateral periorbital hematoma. He could already imagine the inevitable jibes about raccoon eyes making the rounds all over the city.
He took a deep breath. After all the poking and prodding, it was freeing to have finally escaped the confines of the infirmary.
Carson had refused to let them set foot into Atlantis until he was absolutely certain they posed no imminent danger to the expedition. And even then, once they were finally allowed to leave the Jumper, he’d insisted on quarantining them separately in the infirmary for twenty-four hours. They’d undergone extensive examinations and blood tests to ensure the psychogenic compounds had completely left their systems. Even their cortisol levels, which Carson had fully expected to be elevated due to stress, had returned to normal, and Carson had finally cleared them half an hour ago.
Rodney snorted. Returned to normal. Nothing had returned to normal… at least, as far as he was concerned.
After what had happened on the planet, Carson had strictly forbidden any contact between his patients until they were cleared. Not that Rodney felt ready for it anyway. He wasn't even sure if he could face his team at all. Especially John.
He closed his eyes. If he had ever had a chance with John, Rodney had deliberately and single-handedly thrown it down the drain.
His chest tightened with suppressed emotions as the door behind him slid open and someone stepped onto the balcony.
Rodney stiffened. He didn't need to turn around to know exactly who had just joined him. His John-radar had never once failed him—and didn’t now.
And yeah—a telltale clearing of the throat announced John's presence. There you go.
“John,” he managed, not turning around.
“Hey.” John’s voice was barely audible. “What are you doing outside all on your own?”
“I don’t think I’m desirable company right now. Or… ever.”
John took a step towards him. “Rodney… don’t.”
“No, John, you were right. I've known all my life. I just… Atlantis made me forget about it for a moment. I recommend Radek for your team. He’s definitely the better choice,” Rodney said, sounding hollow. “I was such a jerk. Spores or not. I… I crossed a line.”
“So did I.” John was next to him now, both of them gazing at the horizon as dusk fell. “And I did it first. I became the mouthpiece for your deepest self-contempt. I told you that you were only tolerated, but not wanted. I threw you in the dirt and kicked you while you were down.” John shuddered and briefly closed his eyes.
“I have no excuse. Not that there could ever be an excuse. I... I punched you. A member of my team. The one I should protect. The one I've been friends with for more than two years now. The one I—” John cut himself off. “What I said out there… about you ruining things… I don't believe that. God, Rodney, I didn’t mean any of it like that.”
Rodney's eyes burned. “I thought I mattered. I thought you wanted me on your team. I thought… you and me, we meant something.”
“We do!” John turned and looked Rodney intently in the eyes. “I... we...” he stammered, "We're not just simple friends. I know your strengths and flaws better than everyone else's, and I know it goes both ways.
“Yeah.” Rodney lowered his gaze. “You know, you’re the one person whose opinion of me actually matters. When you didn’t come after me… I thought that meant I’d been wrong about everything.”
John flinched. “No. You weren’t! You matter to me. You matter to me a lot. You… you matter more than you should…” He moved even closer to Rodney, took hold of both his arms, and gently turned him so they were facing each other.
“I don’t just need you on the team. I need you… I’m just so bad at saying it, so—”
John slowly leaned forward, his breath warm on Rodney’s face, his eyes searching for consent yet clearly fearing rejection. For a moment, Rodney froze, caught in a tangle of emotions.
“You’ll let me show you?” John asked softly. His fingers brushed Rodney’s cheek, coming to rest under his chin and gently pushing it upwards.
Rodney nodded, barely noticeable, for the first time at a loss for words.
The kiss was hesitant and brief. John's lips were warm and soft, and a tingling sensation spread from Rodney's mouth across his face and throughout his entire body. Every fiber of his being vibrated with joy and fulfillment, building up to a longing arousal.
John pulled back, seemingly anxious about how Rodney would react. Rodney exhaled, shivering with emotion. He locked eyes with John and closed the gap again, drawing him into another kiss. He parted his lips, his tongue gently asking for entrance. The kiss deepened, and Rodney was swept away in a torrent of intimacy so deep and powerful that he never wanted to come up again.
They were both panting when they finally broke apart, dazed and overwhelmed.
“Okay,” Rodney breathed and smiled at John. “Just… just so we’re clear. That meant something.”
John smiled back shakily. “Yeah. It really did.”