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sga_flashficTitle: Going Home (453 words)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blueswan9
Rating: G
Pairing: none
Challenge: Earthside challenge
Summary: "Well, he was back, and really, what was more important than that?"
beta byinlovewithnight
A lab, his apartment, his cat, and a fist-full of take-out menus: this was his life now, again, returned to him in all its splendour. He’d never needed more. Rodney set his laptop down and surveyed his space. It was cold, dark and dusty and it didn’t have one hint of ocean brine in the air. There were no blowers aimed at ankle level swirling currents of warmth as he moved.
It was quiet. Too quiet, his mind added and he chuckled nervously. He’d been waiting for the punch-line since he came through the gate; looked like he’d be waiting a while. If the rest of the Atlantis Expedition were to return, they’d need to un-ascend or Rodney would have to resurrect them. Well, he was back, and really, what was more important than that?
The decision had been made without his knowledge or consent, and thank god for that. He’d have had a hard time not looking too relieved had he been present. His mind insisted on picturing the conference room crowded with the department heads and their minions, each stepping forward to explain how utterly screwed they all were.
Rodney knew beyond a shadow of a doubt just who had come up with the plan. They were all so used to following Colonel Sheppard; he probably hadn’t needed to defend it at all. Rodney should have been there to tell them how stupid the plan was, to tell them that John was smart, but not brilliant. Not like Rodney, who’d been unconscious after 4 days of speeding his way through each passing hour, and failing to find an answer that would save them all.
He’d failed, and his reward was his life. He’d been returned, and they were all dead, or at least gone. They wouldn’t be around ever, not to nag at him, to irritate him, to attempt to kill him in various ways that left him shaking still.
Rodney dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the pills they’d given him. He’d told those witch-doctors over and over that the tremours were a physical manifestation of an actual illness. Still he could read a scrip as well as the next illegible hand writer. The pills did manage to help him sleep a little, though the shaking continued.
He was here now, and he would have to live with it; apparently, that was Sheppard’s Grand Plan. There was no one he wanted to call and celebrate his return with, and there was no place special he wanted to be. He’d been back for two weeks and in his apartment for less than two hours. Rodney wanted his friends, his family and his work.
Rodney McKay wanted to go home.
Author:
blueswan9Rating: G
Pairing: none
Challenge: Earthside challenge
Summary: "Well, he was back, and really, what was more important than that?"
beta by
inlovewithnightA lab, his apartment, his cat, and a fist-full of take-out menus: this was his life now, again, returned to him in all its splendour. He’d never needed more. Rodney set his laptop down and surveyed his space. It was cold, dark and dusty and it didn’t have one hint of ocean brine in the air. There were no blowers aimed at ankle level swirling currents of warmth as he moved.
It was quiet. Too quiet, his mind added and he chuckled nervously. He’d been waiting for the punch-line since he came through the gate; looked like he’d be waiting a while. If the rest of the Atlantis Expedition were to return, they’d need to un-ascend or Rodney would have to resurrect them. Well, he was back, and really, what was more important than that?
The decision had been made without his knowledge or consent, and thank god for that. He’d have had a hard time not looking too relieved had he been present. His mind insisted on picturing the conference room crowded with the department heads and their minions, each stepping forward to explain how utterly screwed they all were.
Rodney knew beyond a shadow of a doubt just who had come up with the plan. They were all so used to following Colonel Sheppard; he probably hadn’t needed to defend it at all. Rodney should have been there to tell them how stupid the plan was, to tell them that John was smart, but not brilliant. Not like Rodney, who’d been unconscious after 4 days of speeding his way through each passing hour, and failing to find an answer that would save them all.
He’d failed, and his reward was his life. He’d been returned, and they were all dead, or at least gone. They wouldn’t be around ever, not to nag at him, to irritate him, to attempt to kill him in various ways that left him shaking still.
Rodney dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the pills they’d given him. He’d told those witch-doctors over and over that the tremours were a physical manifestation of an actual illness. Still he could read a scrip as well as the next illegible hand writer. The pills did manage to help him sleep a little, though the shaking continued.
He was here now, and he would have to live with it; apparently, that was Sheppard’s Grand Plan. There was no one he wanted to call and celebrate his return with, and there was no place special he wanted to be. He’d been back for two weeks and in his apartment for less than two hours. Rodney wanted his friends, his family and his work.
Rodney McKay wanted to go home.