Speechless by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
audaxfemina for the Wordless Challenge.
Sep. 14th, 2007 11:15 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
audaxfemina.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficTitle: Speechless
Spoilers for McKay and Mrs. Miller
About 600 words.
Rating: G for Gen.
Summary: Two partings for the McKay siblings, one in ~ Season 5-6 of SG1, the other in Season 3 of SGA. He’d told her that she was wasting her life, wasting time, wasting everything, including potentially the oxygen she was consuming at the moment. He'd been angry.
Warning: This is the result of watching M&MM at work, in my quiet little corner. Unbeta-ed, unedited, I own nothing, including my errors and mistakes and flames. :)
***
He imagined the look on his face when someone had maligned physics horribly was remarkably similar to what his sister’s now displayed. She’d been flabbergasted at the beginning, speechless in the face of his frustration and anger at the outright squandering of her potential. He’d told her that she was wasting her life, wasting time, wasting everything, including potentially the oxygen she was consuming at the moment. He’d been angry. Now, she was determined, and as her eyes narrowed in anger, she’d argued about priorities, and what actually *did* have meaning in this world, arguments he’d dismissed with a wave of his hand.
But her strident tones rivaled his, just the same. Once they'd repeated the same arguments twice, she’d lowered her hand to her still-flat stomach that showed no sign of the infant to come. “I think you should go, Mer,” she said with a waver in her voice, and tears in her eyes.
This wasn’t anger. This was hurt, as though he had physically struck her. But he was not in the wrong. She was *wasting* a precious gift, the contributions she could have made were dying all around her, and she didn’t care.
He nodded, grabbing his laptop case. “Alright. I will. I hope you’re happy,” was the sarcastic parting shot. He was right, and she was wrong, wrong, wrong, and she’d see that some day. Rodney stepped out of her apartment, and shut the door quietly, before heading down to the rental car which would take him to the airport, and thence to Colorado. He’d tried.
And if the silence that surrounded him the rest of the way into Cheyenne Mountain was in any way oppressive, he didn’t let it bother him, because the encounter had hardly left him speechless. That the painful silence continued for four years hadn't been a predicted outcome.
***
Rodney clicked his radio. “McKay to Daedalus. She’s ready for transport,” he said, quietly. He clicked it off, giving a faint smile. “Goodbye, Jeannie.”
"Standby ten seconds, please," Novak answered. And that gave Jeannie all the encouragement she needed.
She hugged him once more, in the sight of the entire control room, and sighed, with a smile on her face. Pulling back, she moved and picked up her satchel. “I hope you’re happy, Mer,” she said, with a genuine happiness in her voice that he could never have hoped for in his lifetime.
As the bright light of the Asgard transporters caught her up, the surge of déjà vu, of knowing how he’d used those words to wound her, was too much, and he looked to Zelenka, who had come to see her off too. She could have not more effectively stopped him in his tracks if she’d glued his feet to the floor. His gaze then went back to the space Jeannie had occupied, just seconds before.
And yet she’d meant it. She’d hoped that he was happy here, with his friends, and his work, and that *this* was the challenge he’d always dreamed of. It was. There had been nothing he could have said in response to that, because it was completely true, and they both knew it.
They stood in silence for a few moments, more comfortable than awkward, until Zelenka pushed his glasses up his nose and coughed quietly. “I have ideas for how to conserve power, and Miko believes that we can manufacture a set of solar cells that will be able to take care of residential requirements,” he said, breaking the quiet with his usual efficiency.
Rodney looked to Radek. “Good. Good. Ideas all around. I want recommendations from every department on what we can cut or restrict for the time being. Ideas on power generation, conservation, everything. We’ll have a meeting at eleven about it,” he said, tapping his watch. “There’s something I’ve got to do first.” A late breakfast, letting him be comfortably speechless and an end to the silence… maybe he’d even catch his team in the mess hall.
Spoilers for McKay and Mrs. Miller
About 600 words.
Rating: G for Gen.
Summary: Two partings for the McKay siblings, one in ~ Season 5-6 of SG1, the other in Season 3 of SGA. He’d told her that she was wasting her life, wasting time, wasting everything, including potentially the oxygen she was consuming at the moment. He'd been angry.
Warning: This is the result of watching M&MM at work, in my quiet little corner. Unbeta-ed, unedited, I own nothing, including my errors and mistakes and flames. :)
***
He imagined the look on his face when someone had maligned physics horribly was remarkably similar to what his sister’s now displayed. She’d been flabbergasted at the beginning, speechless in the face of his frustration and anger at the outright squandering of her potential. He’d told her that she was wasting her life, wasting time, wasting everything, including potentially the oxygen she was consuming at the moment. He’d been angry. Now, she was determined, and as her eyes narrowed in anger, she’d argued about priorities, and what actually *did* have meaning in this world, arguments he’d dismissed with a wave of his hand.
But her strident tones rivaled his, just the same. Once they'd repeated the same arguments twice, she’d lowered her hand to her still-flat stomach that showed no sign of the infant to come. “I think you should go, Mer,” she said with a waver in her voice, and tears in her eyes.
This wasn’t anger. This was hurt, as though he had physically struck her. But he was not in the wrong. She was *wasting* a precious gift, the contributions she could have made were dying all around her, and she didn’t care.
He nodded, grabbing his laptop case. “Alright. I will. I hope you’re happy,” was the sarcastic parting shot. He was right, and she was wrong, wrong, wrong, and she’d see that some day. Rodney stepped out of her apartment, and shut the door quietly, before heading down to the rental car which would take him to the airport, and thence to Colorado. He’d tried.
And if the silence that surrounded him the rest of the way into Cheyenne Mountain was in any way oppressive, he didn’t let it bother him, because the encounter had hardly left him speechless. That the painful silence continued for four years hadn't been a predicted outcome.
***
Rodney clicked his radio. “McKay to Daedalus. She’s ready for transport,” he said, quietly. He clicked it off, giving a faint smile. “Goodbye, Jeannie.”
"Standby ten seconds, please," Novak answered. And that gave Jeannie all the encouragement she needed.
She hugged him once more, in the sight of the entire control room, and sighed, with a smile on her face. Pulling back, she moved and picked up her satchel. “I hope you’re happy, Mer,” she said, with a genuine happiness in her voice that he could never have hoped for in his lifetime.
As the bright light of the Asgard transporters caught her up, the surge of déjà vu, of knowing how he’d used those words to wound her, was too much, and he looked to Zelenka, who had come to see her off too. She could have not more effectively stopped him in his tracks if she’d glued his feet to the floor. His gaze then went back to the space Jeannie had occupied, just seconds before.
And yet she’d meant it. She’d hoped that he was happy here, with his friends, and his work, and that *this* was the challenge he’d always dreamed of. It was. There had been nothing he could have said in response to that, because it was completely true, and they both knew it.
They stood in silence for a few moments, more comfortable than awkward, until Zelenka pushed his glasses up his nose and coughed quietly. “I have ideas for how to conserve power, and Miko believes that we can manufacture a set of solar cells that will be able to take care of residential requirements,” he said, breaking the quiet with his usual efficiency.
Rodney looked to Radek. “Good. Good. Ideas all around. I want recommendations from every department on what we can cut or restrict for the time being. Ideas on power generation, conservation, everything. We’ll have a meeting at eleven about it,” he said, tapping his watch. “There’s something I’ve got to do first.” A late breakfast, letting him be comfortably speechless and an end to the silence… maybe he’d even catch his team in the mess hall.
