Chapter Text
Rodney blinked stupidly at Elizabeth. Well, not stupidly. He's the smartest man in two damn galaxies after all - nothing he does could possibly be classed as stupid - but right at that moment he could be forgiven for feeling a little slow because he could have sworn that Elizabeth had just told him that his son was going to be 'gating back to Atlantis with Major Lorne's team.
"A kid? McKay's kid? I think we would have known if Rodney had a damn kid, Elizabeth." John's voice rang out in the shocked silence that had followed Elizabeth's announcement and Rodney grabbed onto John's disbelief and ran with it, nodding his head in agreement and pointing his finger in John's direction in shaky approval.
"Yes. Exactly. What he said." Rodney smiled weakly at John, in thanks for his back up, receiving a comforting nod back.
"Well, the village elders of PX-764 disagree." Elizabeth said, sounding irritatingly calm to Rodney's ears.
"OK," he huffed, "Well, I think I have a better idea of whether I had fathered a child or not than they wou- -" Rodney trailed off mid-sentence, John's accompanying "yeah" of support barely making it through the white noise of panic that was building in Rodney's head. He swallowed loudly. "Did you say PX-764?"
"Rodney?" It turned out that John's angry drawl cut through the white noise just fine. "What did you do?"
"What? Nothing!" Rodney blustered unconvincingly. "I most definitely didn't..y'know..I know I'd remember that."
John glared and Rodney winced, turning to Elizabeth beseechingly.
"Look, Elizabeth. I absolutely, 100% did not knowingly engage in any actions that would result in, well, this. Not all of us are trying to be Captain Kirk, you know," he said, glaring momentarily at a still angry looking Sheppard.
"All right," Elizabeth agreed. "Let's say that, for arguments sake, that's true. You recognise that address Rodney. What did happen there?"
"Well, there was that...glowy thing," Rodney said, internally cringing at how insubstantial it all sounded, even to him.
Going by the raised eyebrow that Elizabeth gave him and the continuing glare of John, nobody else seemed convinced by this highly scientific argument either.
"I believe that Dr McKay may be correct, Elizabeth," Teyla spoke up for the first time since Elizabeth had dropped her bombshell. "Colonel Sheppard, do you not recall the people of Andross requiring a boon of Dr McKay, Ronon and yourself?"
John frowned. "Well yeah, but that was just blessing some old piece of Ancient technology. It didn't even light up. There was nothing glowy about it."
"Well, it glowed for me!" Rodney interrupted. "Just because Atlantis rolls over for you doesn't mean that every piece of Ancient tech is going to do the same. Some of them have taste, you know."
"So, what? You're saying that stick thing we touched somehow made a baby," Ronon said, sounding like he was trying very hard not to laugh.
Rodney didn't blame him, it did sound kind of ridiculous but then, since arriving in the Pegasus galaxy four years ago, he'd had to redefine the word "ridiculous" approximately 722 times.
Sighing, he collapsed on to a waiting seat. "Look, that's the only thing I can think of that could explain this. If we even believe them in the first place. Who says this isn't some grand plan of theirs to foist some unwanted kid onto us, huh? Their very own spy on Atlantis."
"An eighteen month old toddler, Rodney? A spy? Really?"
"Well, OK, maybe not a spy but who says this kid is even mine? What proof do we have?"
Elizabeth had just opened her mouth to reply when the ringing alarm that signalled an off world activation rang out.
"Well," she said, "it looks like we're about to find out."
Major Lorne was the first to appear from the event horizon, clapping a congratulatory hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Mazel Tov," he said, grinning. "It's a boy."
Rodney shook the hand off his shoulder, his eyes straying from their spot locked on to the event horizon long enough to glare at the Major and, apparently, long enough to miss witnessing the arrival of Dr Parrish on Atlantis with the supposedly prodigal son.
It was John's slowly drawn in gasp of breath that alerted Rodney to the baby's presence. The noise drew Rodney's attention away from Lorne and he watched, fascinated, as the angry glare faded from John's eyes to be replaced with a soft kind of baffling fondness. Catching Rodney's look, John attempted a half-smile in his direction. "Well," he said, nodding his head at the 'gate, "I think we have our answer on whether he's your kid."
Confused, Rodney, followed John's nod to see a mop of blonde curls peeking out from behind Dr Parrish's legs.
So what, he thought, lots of babies have blonde hair. And so what if those curls looked uncannily like Rodney's own curls at that age. It's just a coincidence, it doesn't mean that this is his kid and - - oh crap. Rodney's panicked denials crumbled as the kid crept out from behind Parrish, his crooked mouth sloping gently downwards in displeasure in a way that unmistakably screamed "McKay".
In the instant before the first strangled sob filled the Gate Room, Rodney felt like all the air had been sucked from the room, felt like he was floating in a vacuum, unable to breathe, to speak, to move.
He had a kid.
He, Rodney McKay, was a father now.
Oh crap.
The sudden sound of howling sobs were disproportionately loud when compared to the size of the lungs that were making them. They swept across the room causing Teyla to take a step forward towards the boy, her mothering instinct kicking in.
Rodney, who was realising he had no such mothering instinct, watched in a slowly building horror as Dr. Parrish crouched down in front of the boy, hefting him up into his arms and bouncing him gently.
It seemed like every set of eyes on Atlantis was on him, waiting for him to step up, to be a father, to do something. Anything.
Rodney choked, his feet backing up automatically, his fleeing instinct kicking in. Locking panicked eyes with a worried looking John, he finally managed to gasp a breath of air.
Shaking his head, he continued to back up. "I can't," he whispered, "I'm sorry but I just..I can't." Rodney turned and ran from the room, ran from John's angry yell of "Rodney!", ran from Teyla's disapproving eyes, from Elizabeth's pursed lips and, most of all, from the wailing cries of a kid that he was in no way prepared to look out for.
This really wasn't where he thought today would end up.
It's hours later when John found him holed up in one of the more recently discovered labs off the south-west pier. He doesn't speak at first, just leans against the doorway, watching as Rodney pretends that he's working on something vitally important when the reality is that he's done nothing but spend the past eight hours compiling list after list of exactly why Rodney McKay should not be allowed to raise a child.
John's resolve caves in first, and the childish glee that Rodney feels for out-stubborning someone is reason number 112 on the aforementioned list.
"Carson ran some tests," John said, his voice loud in the quiet room. "They didn't tell us anything that wasn't obvious to anyone who had eyes but they prove beyond doubt that Dorian is yours."
Rodney doesn't react much beyond a tightening of his shoulders. Like the Colonel said, he had eyes, it wasn't really that surprising.
"That's his name, by the way." John continued, sounding angrier now. "Dorian. In case you care at all."
Rodney's back stiffens. Of course he cares. What the hell kind of heartless idiot does John take him for. This isn't about a lack of caring. But a kid needs more than caring, a kid needs - -
"His mother's dead."
Rodney drops the pad that he'd been scribbling on. It hits the table with a loud bang.
"The Androssians believe that kids belong with their parents. They believe that separating families is an insult to their Gods."
Rodney laughed bitterly. "Oh, what? But it's acceptable to mine DNA from an unwilling donor and bring a child into the world without his knowledge? How does that fit in with their wholesome family values?"
"Yeah," John scratches his hair lazily, "about that..you were right. The whole "boon" thing. Apparently your, ah, contribution was a gift from the Gods."
"Some gift," Rodney muttered.
John sighed heavily before crossing the room and hoisting himself up onto the desk that Rodney was working on, his legs dangling over the floor.
"What's the deal, Rodney?" He asked. "I'd like to think that I've gotten to know you pretty well in the past four years and I would never have pegged you as someone who wouldn't step up to the plate when he had to."
"Who says I have to now?"
"The small, helpless kid that's sitting, probably terrified, in the infirmary without anyone to call his own. That's who."
Rodney closed his eyes, squeezing them tight to try and rid his mind of the image of that small, curious boy (Dorian, his mind reminded him gently) so scared and alone.
"John," Rodney swallowed his emotions down as far as they would go, almost breaking at the warm weight of John's hand on his shoulder. "I don't know if I can do this."
John smiled, his hand gripping more solidly at Rodney's shoulder, squeezing the strong muscle there in a show of support. "You're Dr. Rodney McKay," he said, "I have it on pretty good authority that you can do anything."
Rodney choked out a laugh at that, aware that it sounded more hysterical than anything else.
"And you won't be doing it alone, Rodney. We're all here for you. You and Dorian. Teyla, Ronon, Elizabeth, Carson, me." John grinned. "Hell, I think half of Atlantis is already besotted with this kid. It was almost enough to make me ask Carson to run the damn tests twice."
Rodney glared at him, causing John to grin even wider. An annoyed, blustering McKay he could deal with.
"Come on, Rodney," he hopped off the desk. "Let's go and meet McKay Jr." Rodney looked terrified at the prospect and John's heart hurt for him. "It'll be fine," he said in a lower voice. "We'll all be be there with you. What do you say?"
John knew Rodney was made of sterner stuff than most would think. Four years of working with the man had proven beyond a doubt that the scientist deserved his place amongst the bravest soldiers that John had ever served with. Watching Rodney square his shoulders, pick up his pad and take a deep breath, John was reminded of that fact once more.
"OK," he said, "let's do this."
John's complete faith in him boosted Rodney's spirits from the moment they left the lab, all the way through the short walk and transporter ride, right up until they reached the infirmary.
Faith in himself wasn't something that Rodney normally lacked - hell, most people would agree that he had too high an opinion of his own abilities. Facing the prospect of sudden fatherhood, Rodney found himself wavering in that self-belief.
As if sensing his hesitance, John reached over to squeeze Rodney's shoulder, his eyebrows raised in a silent question, asking if Rodney was ready while simultaneously letting him know he wasn't alone.
If Rodney hadn't been so busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd probably have wondered just when exactly he had realised that he could understand John without the need for words.
"I'm ready," he nodded decisively, squared his soldiers and pushed into the infirmary.
"Joh'!"
Rodney halted, staring blankly at the small boy (Dorian, his mind chimed in, your son) sitting happily on Carson's lap, surrounded by a laughing Ronon and Teyla, holding his arms out in excitement as he and John walked in the room. John smiled apologetically at him, his mouth twisting up at the corners in embarrassment as Rodney gaped in astonishment.
His kid had been in Atlantis all of five minutes and already, he was head over heels for Colonel John Sheppard, wasn't that just perfect?
He tried very hard not to listen to the small part of him that whispered "like father, like son." He'd gotten pretty good at ignoring that particular part of himself over the past four years, although the sight of John grinning widely as the boy (Dorian, call him by his name goddamnit) jumped into,his arms, wrapping his chubby fists in the ridiculous mop of spikes that John called a haircut, was testing every ounce of his control. If he were a woman, he could at least blame the way his tongue dried out and the way his belly fluttered on hormones; but he had to admit, even if only to himself, that it was a product of a good old-fashioned bout of unrequited love.
Fuck.
"- - and this is your Daddy, he's gonna look after you from now on but we'll all help out. That sound good, buddy?" John turned to look at him, an encouraging smile on his face, and Rodney realised that he might have zoned out for a bit.
"What? I mean, yeah, yes. Hi..um, Dorian. I'm Dr Rodney McKay, uh, well, uh, your Dad."
Amazingly, no one laughed at the complete hash he'd made of his introduction (although he could swear that he saw Teyla dig a swift warning elbow into Ronon's side). John's eyes twinkled in amusement though as he passed Dorian over, subtly correcting Rodney's arms until he had a proper grip and was less likely to drop the kid on his head.
"Hi!" Dorian smiled up at him, his fingers trying to grip at Rodney's hair in the same way they had John's. He didn't seem to mind that there wasn't much to grip onto which Rodney thought bore well for his future. Seeing Dorian up close for the first time, it really was remarkable just how closely he resembled a younger version of his self. He'd almost believe that the Ancient device had cloning properties if it weren't for Dorian's eyes.
No McKay baby blues for Dorian; instead, his eyes were a soft, warm, almost familiar hazel. Rodney had no idea who his mother had been, never mind what she looked like, so he couldn't really be blamed if those bright, hazel eyes reminded him of someone else instead.
"We go home now?" Dorian asked hopefully, looking at Rodney like he had all the answers.
"Uh, he speaks in sentences?" Rodney shot a panicked look at Carson.
"Aye, Rodney," Carson replied, his mouth twitching. "He's a clever wee laddie, his vocabulary seems a bit ahead of the curve."
"Indeed," Teyla agreed. "He is much more advanced than some of the Athosian children at a similar development level."
"Yes, well," Rodney puffed up in pride, "he is a McKay after all."
"Home now?" Dorian insisted, drawing his attention back to where it should be.
"Yeah, buddy," John leaned over to ruffle Dorian's blonde curls. "Your Dad's gonna get you settled in your new home."
"I am?" Rodney said, starting to panic again.
"Yeah," John agreed, an inch away from glaring at Rodney again, "you are. A couple of the Athosian settlers were kind enough to lend you some things until the Daedalus can bring some supplies. We've set them up in your room. He's already eaten so all you have to do is give him a bath and settle him down.
"Right, my room. I can do this."
"You can do this." John agreed, looking at the others for back-up.
"I have complete faith in your ability to do this, Rodney," Teyla smiled encouragingly.
"That's right, Rodney," Carson chimed in. "And we're just a radio call away if you need help."
Rodney nodded, hitching Dorian higher and eliciting a small giggle while he looked expectantly at Ronon.
"What?" Ronon asked. Rodney definitely saw Teyla elbow him that time. "Oh. Yeah. You'll be great, McKay. Whatever."
Whatever.
With those stirring words, Rodney looked down at Dorian again, his heart leaping in a mixture of fear and some other inexplicable emotion that he thought just might be love, as he took in the trusting look on the boys, his sons, face.
Yeah, he could do this.