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Rodney hit the print button and then closed the document on his laptop. He slide out of his chair and collected the single sheet from the printer, reading over its contents again, giving it all one final check. It hurt almost as much to read it as it had to sit down and write it, but it had to be done. It was this or leave, and he really didn't want that. He folded the paper into three and headed out of his door to find Sheppard.
It was late and there were very few people in the corridors as he made his way over to Sheppard's quarters. He was glad of that because he was sure if anyone stopped to talk to him he might just chicken out and go back to his own room. There was also a good chance that he might not be able to hold back the hurt that had damped his eyes already over the past couple of days.
Outside Sheppard's door he took a couple of deep calming breaths in and out, and fought the urge to run and hide. He couldn't believe it had to come to this, after all these years, all the times spent watching movies together, racing cars, driving Woolsey mad. He swiped his hand over the chime and waited.
The door slid open and there was Sheppard, looking tired and drawn and Rodney's first reaction was still to ask him if he was okay. God, wasn't he a fool?
“Can I come in?” he asked, suddenly horrified that he might have to do this in the corridor.
“Sure,” Sheppard answered, standing back from the door. “What's up?”
“I came to give you this,” Rodney started, waiting for the door to glide shut behind him before handing Sheppard the letter and continuing. “And ask you to stop punishing me.”
“What?” Sheppard demanded, his body tensing as he glanced down at the letter he'd unfolded. “You're resigning from the team?”
“I know I'm not really part of the team any more, anyway,” Rodney said, feeling the stab of hurt at the loss. “I haven't been for a few months. But I thought if I put it in writing it would be enough.”
“Enough for what?” Sheppard asked, pretending to look confused. Great, he was going to pull his passive aggressive shit and make Rodney do all the work.
“To stop you trying to get rid of me!” Rodney all but shouted. “I don't know what I did to piss you off so much but I didn't mean it, whatever it was. I'm sorry, okay? I'll apologize for it properly if you tell me what I did.”
“McKay,” Sheppard snapped, looking like he might be angry. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Right,” Rodney said, sarcastically. “So it's pure chance that I've been on three missions with Jennifer and Major West in the past three weeks?”
“Well, no,” Sheppard said, looking slightly abashed and a little confused.
“Great” Rodney sighed, his heart breaking just a little because some part of him that he hadn't even acknowledged was hoping it was chance, that Sheppard wasn't being that cruel.
“Rodney,” Sheppard said, in the tone of voice he used to sooth natives with pointy spears.
“No, it's okay,” he replied, wondering if he could get back to his room before the tears started. “I get it. Usually I notice when I've fucked up this badly and manage to fix it, but I guess I really messed up this time. I'm sorry. I'll go and rewrite the letter to cover the whole mission, probably the SGC too, just to be on the safe side.”
“McKay, stop,” Sheppard said, grabbing his arm and shaking him a little. “You've not done anything. I don't know what I'm supposed to have done but I don't want you gone. Or off the team.”
“What?”
“Look,” Sheppard started, still gripping Rodney's arm so hard there were probably going to be bruises tomorrow. “I thought you'd be pleased going on missions with Keller, but I was clearly wrong so it won't happen again.”
“Pleased?” Rodney questioned, terrified to imagine in what universe he could be happy about the situation. “How could I be pleased to have to watch my ex-girlfriend coo over her new beau? Are you mad?”
“Your ex?” Sheppard asked, his face paling as he let go of Rodney's arm and took a step back. “Since when?”
“Oh, like you didn't know,” Rodney snapped, annoyed because Sheppard's innocent act looked really convincing but couldn't possibly be true. “Atlantis is like high school. Everyone knows everything.”
“Not everything,” Sheppard said quietly, sitting down on his bed and looking like he might be sick.
Rodney gaped. He couldn't believe it. Sheppard looked genuinely ill, like he'd just heard some awful news and couldn't quite grasp it. The little doubting voice in Rodney's head started up again. What if he didn't know, however improbable that was? What if he had been trying to be nice and let Rodney spend time with his girlfriend on a few easy missions?
“It was while you, Ronon and Teyla were on Earth,” Rodney explained, unwilling to believe Sheppard really didn't know but filled with a desperate hope that maybe he hadn't.
“You never said,” Sheppard murmured, his head almost between his knees as though he were trying not to faint. “How would I know if you never said?”
“And when would I have told you?” the scientist asked, suddenly angry again. “You never came to let me know you were home. You never called into the labs to say hi. You never dragged me out for beers on the peer. You've pretty much avoided me since you've gotten back.”
“I've been kind of busy, McKay,” Shepperd snapped, his head coming up again. “Or didn't you notice me standing in for Woolsey?”
“Oh, I noticed alright. I noticed every time I had to share a tent with captain Brody and listen to Keller and West giggling in the other tent. Brody thought I'd scheduled the mission myself at first, to try to get Jennifer back. Obviously we had a moment of manly bonding when he realized I wasn't a psychotic ex, just some poor fool who was being punished by his ex-best friend. He still brings me pudding.”
“Ex-best friend?” Sheppard looked sick again.
“There are a lot of exes, aren't there?” Rodney said snidely, riding a wave of hurt that had been brewing for about six months. “At least Jeniffer had the guts to tell me to my face. You just stopped hanging out with me.”
“No,” Sheppard protested.
“You stopped inviting me to the team movie nights before we got the city back to Pegasus,” Rodney said tiredly, annoyed that Sheppard was arguing with undeniable facts. “You always seem to be just leaving whenever I arrive at the mess. If I'm already there, you go and sit with Lorne. I've barely been on any missions with you and the rest of the team. I missed that.”
“You had Keller,” Sheppard snapped, his eyes widening and his ears coloring when he realized what he'd said.
“All this is about her?” Rodney asked, dumbfounded.
“There is no this,” Sheppard said. “We've all been busy.”
“No, you've been busy,” Rodney pointed out, still trying to figure out what it all meant. “Ronon and Teyla have found the time to catch up sometimes. I guess if they hadn't been off world for the last three weeks at least you'd have known I'd split up with Jennifer.”
“I'm sorry that I didn't know,” Sheppard said, obviously trying to get the conversation back to where he felt in control. “And I'm sorry that I scheduled the missions with Keller. I'll also be having words with Major West about appropriate behavior off world.”
“Don't do that. None of this is about making trouble for them. I'm happy they're happy. Or I will be one day.”
“That's big of you,” Sheppard sniped.
“Do you want me to wail and gnash my teeth?” Rodney questioned, wishing that they could just get to the end of where ever this argument was going. “I did all that while my friends weren't here. I worked for three days straight after she told me. Once I'd woken up after I crashed out, I drank half a bottle of vodka sat out on the pier, cursing you for not being there more than her for dumping me. How stupid is that? Once I'd sobered up the next morning I made tea and sat in Teyla's meditation room and cried for an hour. Trust me, I'm over it.”
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?” Rodney asked, genuinely wanting to know. “That she dumped me? Or that I'd already lost my team and my best friend.”
“You haven't.”
“Then why have I been on my own for six months?” he shouted.
“You haven't,” Sheppard argued. “You had a girlfriend. You had her.”
“And I can't have friends too?” Rodney demanded, really close to screaming in frustration at Sheppard's stupid answers. “I didn't know there was a rule against it, you'll have to make sure everyone gets to memo. Just make sure that you include all the caveats because I've noticed it's okay for Teyla and Ronon keep their friends even though they've got partners. Hell, Teyla even has a kid and you forgave her eventually.”
“That's not fair,” Sheppard protested.
“Oh, I know it's not fair,” Rodney pointed out.
“You know that's not what I meant,” Sheppard said angrily.
“No,” Rodney said, all the fight going out of him. “No, I don't. And I guess I never will because you'll never tell me.”
“McKay...” Sheppard started, but Rodney interrupted him.
“Look, I can't do this any more. Just tell me which of the resignation letters you want. The team or the whole thing?”
“Neither,” Sheppard almost shouted. “I don't want you to resign. I'm sorry about the Keller thing.”
“My god, are you really this stupid?” Rodney snapped. “This isn't just about the missions. I accept that you didn't know about Keller. I get that. What I don't get is how you think I can just carry on working like we were never friends.”
“We're still friends,” Sheppard insisted, looking like he believed it.
“No we're not,” Rodney said, sadly. “Friends don't behave the way you've been doing. I know I'm not the best person to point out how friends are supposed to act but even I know this isn't right. Friends try not to make each other unhappy.”
“I haven't been trying to make you unhappy.”
“How else did you think I'd feel?” Rodney asked, genuinely confused.
“I didn't think you'd notice.”
“What?” Rodney shouted, really angry again. “Not notice that my best friend suddenly wasn't there any more? Not notice that the people who'd become like my family suddenly seemed to be just fine without me? Not notice that I've spent most of my free time in the past six months staring at the walls of my quarters thinking how much it hurt to go back to being as alone as I was before Atlantis.”
“You were with Keller,” Sheppard insisted, as though he thought that they'd been living together.
“We saw each other in the evenings probably about twice a week, if that,” Rodney said, incredulous that he was having to explain this. “We ate lunch together about once a week. The rest of the time I spent working because I couldn't bear sitting on my own in my quarters.”
“I'm sorry,” Sheppard said, looking sick again. “I didn't know. I thought you'd be together. You always seemed to be when I saw you and I didn't want to get in the way.”
“Oh my god,” Rodney exclaimed, suddenly understanding everything. “Your stupid martyr complex even makes you behave like a self sacrificing idiot in your personal life. I can't believe it.”
“No,” Sheppard said, sounding like he might have been trying to convince himself.
“Yes,” Rodney countered, seeing just how everything played out in Sheppard's twisted mind. “You thought that Jennifer and I were getting serious and that obviously meant I'd have no time for anything or anyone else. You also thought I'd be too stupid to notice that she'd fallen into the terrible girlfriend cliché of being annoyed by my friends, which she never was, and took away the chance for it to happen. I don't know if I'm more angry that you thought I'd be too dumb to notice or that you thought I'd choose her instead of you.”
“What?” Sheppard said, his voice tiny and surprised. “Why would you pick me?”
Rodney blinked. He'd hadn't realized it was true until he'd said it out loud, mainly, he admitted, because he'd not thought about it before. Jennifer hadn't exactly been demanding of his time, especially towards the end and the situation hadn't arisen. But he knew, if she had made it clear he had to, he'd have chosen his friend.
“Because you're the best friend I've ever had,” Rodney said, knowing that didn't really cover it.
“Oh,” Sheppard said, sounding pleased and kind of sad at the same time. Maybe he thought that it was just Jennifer he'd get picked ahead of.
“It'd have to be someone pretty fucking special to make me choose them over you,” Rodney said, feeling like he'd hit some kind of emotional fast lane and couldn't stop making confessions. “I can't ever see it happening. There's never been anyone like you.”
“But you said you loved her,” Sheppard protested, like he still couldn't quite accept that Rodney really meant what he said.
“I was in love with her,” Rodney said, feeling like he was channeling some terrible self help book. “But I love you.”
“I...” Sheppard started, his face displaying some emotion that Rodney couldn't place.
“I mean,” Rodney interrupted, watching Sheppard's face fall as he clearly thought he was going to clarify his statement away to nothing. “I mean that I think I always knew that what I felt for her would be temporary, would never be as deep as what I feel for you.”
“What happens when you find someone you love more than me?” Sheppard asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Rodney didn't really have to think about it. He knew with sudden clarity he wouldn't ever find anyone he loved more that Sheppard. He also, as though his emotional IQ had suddenly jumped to match his real one, deciphered the expression on Sheppard's face. It was hope. Everything fell into place and he knew that he wasn't the only one who loved his best friend.
“I'll never find anyone I love more than you,” he said, moving to sit next to Sheppard, bumping his shoulder. “Just don't leave me again.”
“I won't,” Sheppard croaked, his eyes looking suspiciously moist. “I won't.”
“Good,” Rodney said, his own eyes prickling. “Because it sucked. A lot.”
“I know,” Sheppard agreed, sniffing. “I missed you.”
“Idiot.”
He'd meant to just bump Sheppard's shoulder, but his friend had turned to face him and then they were both leaning in, their lips meeting for the first time. It was a chaste kiss, their bodies held at awkward angles and both of them still unsure of each other, but Rodney felt breathless when he pulled back. The look on Sheppard's face said he wasn't the only one.
“I...you know...too,” Sheppard said, struggling over the words like he was being tortured for Atlantis' access codes.
“God, you are an emotional invalid, aren't you?” Rodney laughed, leaning in for another kiss. “But I love you anyway.”
~fin~