Someday
by
Bluespirit

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: G
Summary: Time heals, kinda.
Genre: angst, comfort, established relationship
Spoilers: Sunday, First Strike
Word count: ~ 750



Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The characters and universe are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and the Sci-Fi Channel. This fic is meant solely for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.

Notes
1. Thank you to Lantean_drift for the read-through & support.
2. This is a little bit of 'fanfic as therapy' - please excuse my indulgence.

“… and as soon as we get the new generators in place, that should give us the extra power to reconfigure the shielding on the array,” Rodney said, speaking into his headset and waving a vague ‘hi’ in John’s direction as he bustled into their quarters. He paused for a moment, clearly listening, and then tapped a few keys on the data pad in his hand. “Okay, yeah, that looks good. I’ll check when the Daedulus is due back and we can go from there. ‘Night, Radek.”

Rodney moved towards the bed, where John was stretched out reading a magazine, still typing and muttering as he walked. “Good, good. Yes, that’ll work….” he nodded happily at whatever data he was viewing and then paused. “Oh,” he whispered, suddenly sounding smaller, somehow diminished. “Huh….”

John looked up sharply. “What’s the matter?” He swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing,” Rodney mumbled, barely looking up. But his shoulders were hunched and his face had a pinched, bleak look as he sat heavily at John’s side, eyes fixed on the small screen of his pad.

“Rodney,” John said evenly, the question plain in his tone.

Rodney’s shoulders sagged. “I just noticed the date.” He nodded towards the pad. “I hadn’t realised, I’ve been so busy. Tomorrow… it’s a year….” His voice trailed off, growing fainter as he stared at the characters glowing on the screen.

John didn’t have to ask what Rodney was talking about; he’d had his own shock earlier in the day when he’d been signing off on some requisitions. “Tomorrow’s the first anniversary of Carson’s death,” he said quietly and gently eased the data pad from Rodney’s hand, placing it on the nightstand.

“I just hadn’t noticed,” Rodney said, looking blankly at John. “The time’s gone by so quickly and with everything that’s happened… the Asurans, leaving Lantea… I just didn’t…. It’s been a year? Really?”

John wrapped an arm around Rodney’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I know what you mean.” He pressed a careful kiss to Rodney’s hair. “Time has a funny way of sliding on by, right when you don’t notice it.”

“Part of me feels like he’s only been gone for a minute, you know? Like the last year hasn’t even happened,” Rodney sighed, his words bleeding into the skin of John’s neck. “And then when I stop and let myself think about it… about… him.” Rodney swallowed. “It feels like such a long time since I’ve seen him… been able to talk to him. That’s when it hits me, that he’s… gone… and I remember how much I miss him.”

John closed his eyes at the rawness in Rodney’s stilted words. It had been difficult for all of them but Rodney had known Carson the longest, had been the closest to him, and despite sometimes arguing like cat and dog, they’d been best friends. John squeezed Rodney a little tighter. “Yeah, buddy. I know.”

Rodney looked up, his eyes wide and almost forlorn. “I just… miss him,” he said again quietly.

Damn it! John hated seeing Rodney like this, so bruised and vulnerable. He wished that he could do something to make things better but he wasn’t good with words and emotions, he never knew the right thing to say. So he just did what he could - he held Rodney close.

They sat like that for a while, Rodney’s breath heavy in the quiet and John pressing occasional kisses to his hair.

“We’re taking tomorrow off,” John said suddenly, coming to a decision.

“What? We can’t do that!” Rodney argued, but John could hear the thread of twisting hope.

“Yes,” John said. “Yes we can. We’ll take a jumper and find a beach somewhere. Just the two of us.”

“Are we going fishing?” Rodney asked slowly, raising his head to look at John.

“Do you want to?”

There was a pause and then Rodney exhaled sharply. “Oh, God, no,” he breathed, some of the misery smoothing from his shoulders. “I hate fishing.” He paused again and then chuckled shakily, “and Carson damn well knew it too!”

“So, fishing is out then,” John smiled gently. “We’ll just have a day to ourselves. Take some time to relax, maybe drink a beer - and remember good friends.”

Rodney studied John for a moment more, and then returned the smile. “Yeah. Good friends.”


The end

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