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Rodney stepped into his apartment, weary from a long day at the university. He was getting better, but some days it just all piled up on him and he felt worn out from the constant bombardment of stares and whispered words. He knew in his head that it was unlikely that they were all directed at him, but then that voice would rise up inside him. It was always there, taunting and mocking him. He was just starting to learn how to ignore it, but it still slipped through every once and a while.
He hung his keys up on the hook and made his way to the living room. John was nowhere to be seen and that was weird. Usually John was home first and greeted him at the door. He listened carefully. He could here Johnny Cash coming from the spare room and he made his way to the door.
He opened the it only to have his mouth drop open in shock. John was sitting on the floor with tools spread out around him. And was that a go-cart?
“What are you doing?”
John startled and spun his head around. He smiled like nothing was wrong, “Oh hey, Rodney. Guess what I found in the newspaper?”
“What?” Rodney asked faintly, still not believing his eyes.
John looked giddy. “Someone was selling this go-cart and I bought it. I’m trying to take the motor I found at the junk yard and put it in. It’s all it needs to work.” John looked back down at his project, “I think it’s from a riding lawnmower, but if I can soup it up and increase its horsepower, I think I can make this thing fly.”
“How did you get it in here?” He really didn’t want to know how John defied physics, fitting something five feet long and three and a half feet wide through their door, but as a scientist, his curiosity sometimes got the best of him.
John smiled, “Ronon helped.”
Rodney put his head in his hand; that explained it all.