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Rodney McKay’s triumphant return to the SGC was less of a triumph and more of a reluctant, pity-fuelled exercise in compassion that not even the personal condemnation of Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter herself could stop. A dead sister, her dead husband and their suddenly orphaned eighteen month old daughter would do that.
It wasn’t how Rodney imagined coming back. In his fantasies, he would single handedly solve the mystery of life, the universe and everything, leaving the idiots at the SGC with no choice but to beg for him to return, to take his rightful place in, or under, Cheyenne Mountain - with all the lab time and minions that such an achievement would afford. Instead, he was quietly assigned a dingy, out of the way office and put in charge of the Z-team. No matter how often Zelenka insisted the nickname was because of his scientific prowess, Rodney knew that they were so far down the totem pole that they may as well have been at Area 51. He would leave if only he could find another job that would let him work so few hours.
Rodney’s days quickly fell into a routine; Drop Madison off at daycare; drive to the mountain for a 9am start; work on meaningless equation checking and low priority projects until 4pm; make the drive back to Colorado Springs to pick up Madison; spend the next three hours catering to her every whim; stay up on his heavily encrypted home computer until 2am; try to catch some sleep in between Madison’s night terrors; then start it all over again the next day.
He missed Siberia.
At least in Siberia, he didn’t have to put up with people stealing his coffee.
-*-*-*-
Rodney stormed into Zelenka’s office and headed straight for the coffee pot. “Can you believe the gall of the people working here?” he snapped as he poured himself a cup. “My coffee, my beautiful, expensive, paid-for-out-of-my-own-pocket I might add, coffee, is completely gone. Not a bean left! Someone must have waltzed into my office and helped themselves to the last of it. Unbelievable! .” He took a long swallow of the swill Radek called coffee and grimaced.
“Yes,” Radek said sarcastically. “Unbelievable.”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Please,” he spat, “like there’s any comparison between my Kona and this tar.” He sighed heavily and sat down on one of Radek’s hideously upholstered ‘thinking chairs’, propping his feet up on the low table next to it. “How am I supposed to function without my coffee?”
Radek muttered under his breath in Czech as he pushed Rodney’s feet off of his papers before settling next to him in another, equally hideous, chair. “Bad night with your little one?” he asked as he sipped his own coffee.
Rodney scoffed. What night wasn’t? “You could say that,” he sighed. He placed his coffee mug on the low table and breathed deeply. “Honestly, Radek, I’m this close to packing it all in and moving back to Canada with her.”
Radek shook his head sympathetically. “The brouček must be your first priority,” he agreed, “but I am not sure how a different job or a different country would help?”
Rodney ran his hands through what was left of his hair. He swore there was less of it now than there had been when he got that awful phone call four months ago. “I’m not sure either,” he admitted. “But at least my coffee would be safe from looters. Nobody but you takes me seriously here. I can put up with the cold shoulder but stealing my coffee ? That’s a step too far.”
Radek clapped Rodney on the shoulder as he stood up, his empty coffee cup in his other hand. “Nobody is stealing your coffee, Rodney. It was most likely the Major.”
“Major? What Major?” Rodney sat up straighter. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The Major ,” Radek repeated unhelpfully. Seeing Rodney’s blank look, he expanded his explanation. “Major Sheppard. In charge of the night security team? Bad leg? The one with whom you share an office?”
Rodney almost knocked his coffee cup over as he leapt to his feet, his sense of outrage bristling at this new revelation. “I don’t even have my own office ?” he screeched. “That is unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.”
Rodney stormed out of Radek’s office without a goodbye, slightly more caffeinated than when he arrived but no less angry. If Hammond thought that he could get away with giving him a sub-standard office that wasn’t even his own , he could think again. Rodney was going to give him a piece of his mind.
-*-*-*-
Two hours later, Rodney trudged back to his office having not even made it past Harriman. His office. That was a joke. Harriman hadn’t even given him time to rev up to a full rant before pulling out charts and graphs and statistics that spoke of what a high premium space in the mountain was at. While he hadn’t gone so far as to actually say that the only reason Rodney had been hired back at the complex was the unfortunate personal circumstances that he found himself in, the message came through loud and clear to Rodney’s mind anyway. Maybe he should just cut his losses and move back to Canada. He’d miss Zelenka, sure - not that he’d admit it out loud - and maybe Miko. He’d definitely miss the work. Being at the frontline of the most important scientific breakthroughs, being privy to the advanced alien technology...who was he kidding? Canada held nothing for him. He was as well off being miserable here as he would be in his home country.
Rodney booted up his computer - their computer, he supposed - and cast his eye around the office as he waited for it to connect. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see the signs that someone else worked here. There was the missing coffee, of course, but there were other, subtler signs. Like the paper airplane sitting just to the right of the trash can, like someone’s aim had been ever so slightly off, or the calendar tacked to the wall, the one that Rodney hadn’t bothered to take down, that was filled with pictures of sports cars that may as well have been penis extensions. Now that he thought about it, someone had been turning the pages on that calendar every month. Just imagining the type of brain-dead career soldier that polluted his space with their dormant brain cells made Rodney’s well-honed sense of outrage creep back.
He checked his email and made sure that nothing urgent had come up while he had been trying to track down General Hammond. Nothing had. There never was. Angry, Rodney pulled out a pad of paper - probably the very same pad of paper that this Major Sheppard had used to make his paper airplanes - and started to write a note concerning the finer points of coffee theft, making sure to enumerate the many and varied ways that he could ruin someone's life from the comfort of his own computer desk. Pleased with the final result, Rodney left the note - addressed to ‘Major Jackass’ - on top of the expensive coffee machine that he’d brought from home.
It felt good, yelling at someone, even if he did have to use a pen and paper to do it. Rodney felt almost satisfied in his day for the first time since boarding that plane in Siberia. He even managed to make progress on the DHD coding that had been shunted to his department for proofing, taking great enjoyment in sending it back to Carter with great swathes of corrections.
Four o’clock came faster than it had in three months and Rodney left the mountain that afternoon actually looking forward to the next day. Whatever reaction the Major had to his note, it was sure to break the monotony.
If Madison managed to sleep for more than two hours in a row, Rodney would be willing to call this day a win.
-*-*-*-
Madison hadn’t managed to sleep for longer than thirty minutes at a stretch and Rodney was so exhausted the next morning that he’d forgotten about the lack of good coffee in his office until he reached for the door handle.
Groaning, he dumped his briefcase on his desk, fully prepared to go and scrounge some more from Radek until he was stopped short by the note addressed to ‘Dr. McAsshole’ on his keyboard. His need for caffeine temporarily forgotten, Rodney sat in his chair and unfolded the note with an air of childish excitement.
He frowned, confused. It was his own note, the one he’d left for Major Sheppard, the ‘Dr McAsshole’ having been written over a whited out ‘Major Jackass’. As he read on, he realised that it wasn’t quite his own note; it had been heavily edited with a red pen, his occasional grammatical error and questionable spelling choices circled obstinately with suggestions on how to improve his wording in the margins. Rodney caught himself grinning before he even got to the post-script.
PS - If you go to your $2,000 coffee machine (that’s Canadian dollars, right? Because otherwise you were robbed) you’ll find a bag of Hacienda La Esmeralda on the shelf next to it which I bought as a replacement for your Kona. Next beans are on you, McAsshole.
Rodney launched himself off his seat and towards the coffee machine. No way had this...this flyboy brought in one the world’s most expensive coffees for the office. He had never been happier to be proved wrong. Hell, he had never been happy to be proved wrong at any point ever in his life but then there had never been Hacienda La Esmeralda to sweeten the sting before.
He settled down at his desk with a cup of heaven and a smile. Maybe he’d even brave the main labs today, he thought. Show Lee how inconceivably wrong he was about the design of the newly refined naquadah generators he’d been working on.
Rodney had another good day, his second in a row. He even managed to make someone cry, even if it was only a botanist. With one eye on the clock as it approached four he remembered his manners and hastily scrawled a " thanks for the coffee " on a yellow Post-it note.
Halfway out the door, an idea occurred to him and he hurried back to the desk, quickly folding the Post-it note into a paper airplane before leaving it on the middle of the keyboard. As soon as he'd done it, he started to second guess himself. He was being ridiculous, he should throw it away or unfold it or - - a glance at the clock told him that it was 4:05pm and Rodney cursed. He was going to be late and the child minder would give him that look, the one that said ' you're a horrible parent and you're going to ruin this sweet, beautiful girl's life '.
He ran out the office, the yellow paper plane sitting happily on the keyboard.
-*-*-*-
Madison actually reached out for Rodney when he arrived at the daycare center that night, a smile on her face that was so unexpected that Rodney had to look to check if Big Bird had walked in behind him.
She still didn’t speak. Or wouldn’t speak. Rodney knew from Jeannie’s meticulous (obsessive) need to document every development in Madison’s first 18 months that she had been slightly ahead of the curve when the accident happened; a vocabulary of around 18-20 words that she could apparently even string into basic sentences - a sure sign that the McKay genes were superior to those Miller ones. Four months on and Rodney had yet to hear her make any sound other than a wail. The child psychologist that the SGC had referred him to assured him that this was normal but it had been one more worry, one in a long list of imagined shortcomings in his ability to do this, for the past four months.
The happy gurgle that accompanied the beaming smile was a million times better than any coffee bean ever could be. Possibly even better than a Nobel. He wasn’t sure when exactly his priorities had rearranged, hadn't even realised they had, but he found that he minded less than he would have thought.
He spent the rest of the evening before Madison’s bed time chattering away to her, telling her everything from his opinions on the latest batch of physics papers to be published to the mysterious new coffee lover that he shared his office with.
After Madison was put down for the night, drifting slowly off to sleep while he read Goodnight Moon to her, Rodney stayed up to his usual time. Only, instead of working on the equations to maximize the energy levels of the new generators, he spent the time on various Mommy and Me forums, finding out everything he could on how to encourage Madison to speak.
Maybe he could actually do this.
-*-*-*-
Rodney had a spring in his step when he walked through the halls of the mountain the next morning and why shouldn’t he? There was exquisite coffee waiting for him in his office, he’d woken up with a flash of inspiration on his math problem and Madison had waved goodbye to him as he dropped her off at daycare. Everything was coming up Rodney.
Zelenka passed him in the hall on his way to his office and did a double take. “Rodney,” he exclaimed. “I have been looking for you. You - - you look happy. What is wrong?”
“What? I look happy so your first thought is that something’s wrong?” Rodney refused to let Radek irk him out of his good mood. “It just so happens that I’ve had a good morning,” he smirked. “A great morning, in fact.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Radek interrupted. “I was in your office earlier and I noticed that you have fixed Lee’s math. That was why I was looking for you. We can now look at - - “
“- - I didn’t fix Lee’s math,” Rodney interrupted. “I mean, I have fixed Lee’s maths, of course I have, but I only solved it this morning. How did you..”
“Your board,” Radek ushered Rodney into the office as he pointed at Rodney’s white board. “It is corrected, see?”
Rodney did see. He saw a familiar chicken scrawl on the board in juxtaposition to his own blockier handwriting. “ Son of a… ” Rodney muttered under his breath as he checked the amendments, finding them perfect. Whirling to look at his desk, he saw an elaborately folded paper airplane in the middle of it.
Rodney's lips tilted up in a grin. “Radek, I need you you to tell me everything you know about Major Sheppard.”
-*-*-*-
Radek knew next to nothing about Sheppard which really only left Rodney with no alternative but to hack into the personnel files himself. Something he didn't have enough time to do now that their energy consumption problems were solved.
There was barely enough time in the day to unfold the paper airplane left on his desk - a scrawled 'you're welcome, McKay. For the coffee and the math'. He had bit back a smile at the graduation from ‘McAsshole’ to McKay, misdirecting Radek's curiosity at his happy mood by telling him and Miko all about his breakthrough with Madison, which was not a complete untruth.
When 4 o'clock rolled around, Rodney was only slightly reluctant to leave. He knew that Radek and Miko would be working into the small hours trying to maximize their momentum on this new breakthrough and while, normally, Rodney would be itching to stay here with them, there was a growing part of him that was actually looking forward to spending time at home.
Rodney paused for a moment before he left them to it. "Radek?"
"Yes, yes, Rodney, we know. It will all be waiting here for you tomorrow and we have your number in case of Nobel winning breakthrough. Go."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Not that, Radek. I'm going, see?" he waved his blue jacket in the air as evidence. "I was going to ask if I can borrow the chess board from your office? Just for tonight."
"Yes, yes, just go. And give brouček a hug from me." Radek waved him off, distracted by the problem at hand and Rodney quickly exited the room before Radek registered just how strange a request that was.
He stopped by his office after picking the chessboard up from Radek's office and quickly set it up on the small side table that stood against the west wall. Making his first move, he quickly scrawled a challenge on an errant bit of paper.
So, you've got some smarts, Major? Prove it. -MRM
Rodney left the mountain with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, oblivious to the confused looks from the people he passed.
Maybe this was what happy felt like?
-*-*-*-
Rodney hacked into the SGC personnel files that evening after Madison had been put to bed and her outfit for tomorrow's daycare photo had been picked out. Personally, he hadn't seen what was wrong with the Maxwell equations t-shirt Madison had been wearing today but the pointed reminder from the staff seemed to indicate that they would disagree.
He chose a pale green dress that had been in Madison's closet since her belongings had been shipped to him. Jeannie had amassed a huge collection of clothes for Madison over her short 18 months with her daughter and despite the fact that Madison was growing like a weed, getting longer every day, Rodney had managed to escape having to go shopping for clothes up to this point. Even the Maxwell t-shirt had been a gift from Radek. Rooting through her closet made him realise that he wouldn't be able to put that particular facet of parenting off for much longer, the pile of clothes that Madison had outgrown now heavily outweighed those that she could still fit into.
The overwhelming realisation that Jeannie was really gone, that he was really all there was, threatened to cripple him for the first time in two months.
Shoving that thought to the side, Rodney concentrated on the easier task of hacking into super secret government files. He really should speak to Hammond about how appalling their security was.
Major John Sheppard; USAF; transferred to the SGC ten months ago after recovering from a helicopter crash in Afghanistan. Rodney quickly closed out of the pictures documenting Sheppard's injuries, choosing instead to linger on the military ID that highlighted Sheppard's decidedly non-regulation haircut and ridiculously pointy ears. There was no escaping it; John Sheppard was hot. A year older than himself, Rodney noted, but looking much better for it. Rodney cast a guilty look down at his spreading waistline and sighed.
Aha, there it was. A masters in applied mathematics from MIT. Rodney had been right. Major Sheppard was more than his decision to join the military suggested. Maybe he'd give him a challenge on the chessboard after all.
He erased all trace of his activity, closed his laptop, checked on Madison and crawled into bed, the image of pointy ears and pointy hair lulling him to sleep.
-*-*-*-
A black chess piece had been moved the next morning, a folded airplane sitting next to the chessboard; Your move, Meredith .
It seemed as though Rodney wasn't the only one who had indulged in a spot of illicit hacking last night.
He huffed a laugh as he made his move, leaving a note that said in no uncertain terms that his previous threats on Sheppard's credit rating would stand if he continued to use that name.
-*-*-*-
John won their first chess game. And their second. The strange thing was, Rodney didn't mind. He was, dare he say it, happy and John was a big part of that. Scrawled notes had evolved into lengthy emails, even if the paper airplanes never really disappeared. They talked about everything from math to coffee to their shared love of ropey science fiction. Rodney even opened up to John - and just when had he started thinking of him as John? - about his sister and Madison; John, in turn, telling him about the accident that had almost cost him his career and the decision he sometimes regretted to take a desk job rather than a pension. It was nice. He felt like he finally had a friend in the SGC, a friend outside his own staff at least, even if he'd never met John in person.
The office filled up with more and more personal effects over the weeks and months too. Rodney had complained vociferously about the Johnny Cash poster that always seemed to glare at him, no matter where it was in the room, but he knew he was just doing it to save face. Madison's daycare photograph took pride of place on their shared desk, John's only reaction to that had been to leave a Post-it note on the frame saying ' Cute kid, you sure you're related?'
Somehow, two months passed like that and all of a sudden it was Madison's second birthday. Rodney held a small party for her, he hated every second of it but he knew that it was what Jeannie and Kaleb would have done.
"She seems happier," Radek commented as they watched Madison play in the outdoor ball pit that Rodney had hired for the afternoon. "You are doing a good job, Rodney. Jeannie would be proud."
Rodney cleared his throat, not wanting to give Radek the satisfaction of knowing how much those words meant to him. He shrugged. "I'm doing my best," he paused while he gathered up the three orange balls that Madison had flung towards him, depositing them back into the ball pit and taking the opportunity to blow a raspberry on her cheek.
When he returned, Radek was looking at him in wonder, like he'd seen the law of gravity debunked. "Your best is better than I ever would have imagined, my friend." Radek toasted him with his bottle of water and Rodney flushed.
"It's not like I had much of a choice," Rodney felt uneasy with Radek's admiration.
"You had a choice," Radek disagreed. "You could have said no."
Rodney turned to him with an icy glare. "That was never a possibility," he said firmly. "I know what people think of me, Radek. I know my reputation but - -"
Radek scoffed, interrupting his flow. "You know what your reputation was , maybe." Radek waved his arm around, gesturing at the small crowd of people who were cluttering up Rodney's yard. "Do you think all of these people would be here for the old Rodney McKay? Do you think Colonel Carter would be here?"
Rodney sat up straight as he saw Sam's blonde hair over by the buffet table. "I didn't invite her, what's she - -"
"She came with Quinn," Radek explained. "And she brought a very nice gift so be nice." Satisfied that Rodney wasn't about to cause a scene at Madison's birthday party, Radek continued. "My point is: you have changed. You're still brilliant," he rolled his eyes as Rodney preened. "Yes, I said it, but you are.. softer somehow. More willing to let others contribute, more willing to listen to people's ideas. The past six months have changed you. For the better."
"Because I was such an ogre in the past, thanks for that."
"Not an ogre, no, but lonely, yes. Unhappy, maybe. That has changed, I think. Tell me I'm wrong."
Rodney remained silent, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
Radek clapped him on the shoulder before standing up. "I am getting more food," he said. "You should open the presents before people start to leave."
Rodney groaned. Presents. He'd issued the invitees with a list of approved purchases but he was willing to bet that they'd all disregarded it and he'd be left with a dozen stuffed toys that would do absolutely nothing for Madison's cognitive development.
She was talking again, not quite to the standard that the books and the Mommy and Me blogs (the ones that John ridiculed him for frequenting while, in the next sentence, sent him relevant links to) said was expected but Rodney knew that she had no trouble comprehending things. He was pretty sure that she was well on her way to becoming a genius, despite Kaleb's English-teaching genes, but, no matter how many times the psychologist assured him it was a normal coping process, he would feel better once she was talking on the same level as the other kids. The screaming ones that were shouting for their Moms and stuffing their faces with cake.
Huffing, Rodney climbed out of his seat and approached the ball pit once more, clapping his hands and calling out for Madison's attention.
"Dada!"
The world stopped.
Rodney froze, hands together, as Madison's bright call of "Dada" washed over him like a flood. He was dimly aware of Radek talking behind him, even more dimly aware of someone, Miko, he thought, placing a now grumpy Madison in his arms, but nothing seemed quite as important as those two syllables that somehow managed to fill his heart with joy and shatter it into a million pieces at the same time.
He came back to awareness to find that everyone but Radek had disappeared. He opened his mouth to ask where they had all gone but closed it again without saying a word. It was pretty obvious that Radek had run them all off.
"I think you and the brouček could use some time," he said kindly. "Remember to keep a note of who gifted what. Now that you are no longer an ogre, you are expected to send out thank you cards." Radek looked uncertainly between them. "If you want me to stay, I can - -"
"No," Rodney cleared his threat and tried again. "No, thank you. I'll just - -"
Radek nodded. "I understand." Halfway to the kitchen door, Radek paused. "You should open the Major's gift first," he said. "It is big box, wrapped in yellow."
John. Rodney had hesitated before inviting him, they hadn't actually ever met after all, but John had been busy anyway, taking part in some brutal training camp for the security teams on PX5-3YG. The fact that he'd bothered to buy Madison a gift made Rodney smile.
"I thought so," Radek shook his head. "We will talk about this later," he threatened.
Rodney stayed outside for a few moments more, watching Radek leave before wandering into the house with Madison still clinging to his neck.
"I've got you, baby," he whispered. "Dada's got you." The moniker felt strange on his tongue, unfamiliar and like nothing that he'd ever imagined before. It was a feeling he could get used to. "Let's go and see what Uncle John got you, huh? It better not be a toy gun."
-*-*-*-
Rodney emailed John a picture of Madison scooting around the living room on the bright yellow Cessna rider plane that he had bought her.
Thank you, she loves it. Although, if she joins the AF, I'm blaming you.
A couple of days after John was back on world, Rodney wandered into his office to find a brand new mug with a bright red bow on it next to the coffee maker (Jamaican Blue Mountain this week).
World's Best Dad.
Rodney snorted. It looked like the news of his mini freak out at Madison's birthday party was making the rounds on the gossip mill. He poured himself a cup of coffee and opened his email, bypassing the dozen work related emails and heading straight for John's.
Rodney,
I know you'll be freaking out about the whole Dad thing but you're being crazy. For a self-proclaimed genius you can be really slow. Of course she recognises you as her Dad, you're raising her. I didn't know Jeannie - although god knows she must have had the patience of a saint not to have killed you in your sleep when you were growing up - but I know that any Mom would be overjoyed that her kid was happy and secure enough to call you Dad.
Being a Dad is more than just fathering a kid. It's making time for them, changing your life for them, moving from Siberia and sucking it up and doing the right thing. It's you, McKay.
And Madison's damn lucky to have you.
In other news, I may have broke Bates' jaw during security training. I promise you he deserved it. Hey, if you get a photo of the bruise for me, I'll spring for another bag of the Hacienda.
John
PS - Checkmate in four moves. Are you sure you're a genius?
"You know that you get a look like lovesick puppy when you are reading the Major's emails." Rodney jerked, almost spilling his coffee as Radek's voice interrupted him. "It might interest you to know that he gets the same look, no?"
Rodney gave Radek his best withering glare. "Yes, yes," he said, "very interesting. And also completely ridiculous. Don't you have better things to be doing with your day?"
Radek sighed wearily. These two are as bad as each other . "As a matter of fact, yes," he answered Rodney's question. "As do you. We are ready to trial the Mark 4 generator. I know how much you like to push the buttons."
"They've made the changes we sent over?" Rodney scraped his chair back, tapping the keys on his keyboard to lock his computer as he went. "I'd given up hope, it's been over a month. I thought it would take Lee at least another week." He grinned excitedly at Radek.
Radek was bouncing on his heels slightly, as excited at the prospect of finally testing their theory as Rodney was. "Yes, yes, yes. The prototype is waiting in the lab. Which you would know if you had read your work emails first. If you don't hurry up, we will let Kavanagh have the honour of first test."
Rodney was already grabbing his lab coat. "Kavanagh?" he spat. "Over my dead body."
"Don't forget your mug," Radek pointed to the half full mug on the desk. "Is nice mug, it suits you."
-*-*-*-
The prototype generator exploded; of course it did. Rodney’s life had been going too well lately, he’d been too happy. He was practically the living embodiment of the character in every cop movie, the one that was just a day away from retirement or had just got married or had a baby on the way, whichever cliche of the day that Hollywood had used to make their inevitable death in the line of duty particularly poignant.
His last thought before the darkness took all thought away was of Madison. Madison, who had turned his life upside down and made it a million times better and who he was going to leave, just like Jeannie and Kaleb had and - - Rodney wasn’t a brave man, he knew that about himself, had accepted that about himself, but in those last moments his thoughts weren’t for the multiple Nobel prizes he hadn’t won or the legacy he hadn’t left. His last thoughts were filled with sorrow, yes, but not for himself. He would have gladly walked into that room and pressed that button again, knowing that Lee and his team had half-assed the changes, knowing what would happen, knowing that he would - - he’d do it all again if only he could be sure that Madison would be OK.
His second to last thought had been of John and the regret that they would never have the more that he had barely let himself fantasize about. Bizarrely, he took some comfort in that. Selfishness was more familiar to him, it was easier to reconcile.
It was somehow easier to accept the end when he still, at least, had a fundamental grasp of who he was as a person.
-*-*-*-
Rodney blinked awake sometime later - he had no idea if it was hours or days or months - to the giggling delight of a pony-tailed toddler who was trying to stuff a Lego up his nose.
Madison.
He heard the electronic beeping sound that was probably his heart monitor speed up as relief and gratefulness swept over him. Madison was there, looking not much bigger than she had when Rodney had dropped her off at daycare. He could happily rule out months now.
“No, Maddie, no.” Madison was pulled away from his bed unexpectedly. He whimpered. “What did we talk about? Legos go on the play mat, not up your Daddy’s nose.”
Rodney shifted his focus towards the unfamiliar voice, his eyes widening as they settled on a man that he had never seen outside of a photograph.
“You sound like a hick,” Rodney mumbled through a dry, parched mouth. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Dada!” Madison’s flailing arms almost hit Rodney upside the head, would have if John hadn’t unfrozen quickly enough to stop it from happening.
“It’s good to hear your voice too, Rodney,” John drawled. As sarcastic as the words were, John’s voice was too shaky with relief to really offend Rodney. “Just, just stay awake and stay there. I’m gonna call for the doctor.”
Rodney drifted back into darkness before he could even muster up enough energy to snark that he wasn’t exactly able to go anywhere right now. He’d make sure to tell John later.
-*-*-*-
Madison was asleep on John's chest when Rodney woke up next and, as heartwarming as the sight was, he was lucid enough to wonder why.
"Hey," John's drawl was softer than earlier, mindful of the sleeping toddler in his lap. "You want some ice chips?"
Rodney really wanted to know what the hell had happened but ice chips sounded good so he nodded, struggling to sit up and gasping at the pain that even that slight movement caused.
"Yeah, you might not want to do that right now," John winced in sympathy. "You got pretty messed up. Here," he held an ice chip up near Rodney's mouth.
"Thanks," he croaked. The ice chip started to melt in his mouth and Rodney moaned at the refreshing moisture. "What happened?" he asked.
"A pretty big explosion the way I hear it," John shifted slightly in his chair, settling Madison who was starting to whimper in her sleep. It reminded Rodney of his earlier confusion.
"Why are you here with - Radek's supposed to take her if anyth- -" Rodney broke off in fear as the implications sunk in.
"Radek's fine," John rushed to assure him. "He was further back from the explosion. A piece of metal debris got lodged in his leg and he's going to heal just fine but it's not very conducive to chasing after a two - year old so he called me. If you'd prefer me to hand her over to Colonel Carter or - -"
Rodney waved his hand in dismissal of John's words. "You look like you're doing a good enough job. Unless you..?"
"No," John's arms unconsciously tightened around Madison, "I'm happy to help. For however long you need it."
Rodney smiled at his reaction. Madison seemed to have snared another honorary Uncle. "How long have I - -"
"You're awake," Carson Beckett's Scottish burr interrupted him. "I'll not lie, you had us a wee bit worried there, Rodney. But I promised John that I'd see you right, I'm glad you've not made a liar of me." He smiled fondly at John before busying himself with Rodney's vitals. "You've been here for about a day. It's 1400 hours, the day after the accident. You took a bit of a knock to the head and there's some burns on your arms and chest, a broken rib or two from being thrown against the wall. No debris wounds, miraculously. I'll be wanting to keep you overnight but I'll release you to your young man and the wee one in the morning."
"He's not my - -" "I'm not his - -"
Carson chuckled. "Aye, right," he said. "That must be someone else who dropped everything to look after this little angel and refused to leave your bedside. Speaking of the little angel,” Carson ignored the twin blushes of his audience and gestured for Madison. “Why don’t you give her here and I’ll put her down in a proper bed; let you two sort yerselves out.” He lifted Madison up in his arms and shushed her with practiced ease. He called over his shoulder as he left, his eyes twinkling. “Rodney, I trust you to push the button if you need anything."
Rodney never had liked that man. Doctors; bloodsuckers and meddling busybodies the lot of them.
"So..." the sound of John’s lazy drawl was addictive.
"Can I get another ice chip?" Rodney asked. John jumped to action, looking grateful to have something to do.
Rodney sucked on the ice chip and an awkward silence settled over the room as he looked everywhere but at John. There were twenty two cracks in the tile immediately above his head. Rodney had hoped his legendary inability to socially interact with new people would have disappeared when it came to John. They knew each other after all. John probably knew more about Rodney than anyone else left alive and he had a feeling that the same could be said by John. It didn’t make the situation any less awkward.
Rodney shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he should ask for another ice chip, just for something to say. Before he could action that amazing plan, a paper airplane landed on the bed beside his arm.
Rodney looked at John in surprise, a startled laugh bursting from his chest at John’s attempt to look nonchalant. Smiling absently, he unfolded the plane, noticing that it was made out of a blank shift rota that must have been lying around.
I’m glad you’re ok.
John blushed as Rodney looked up at him. Rodney rolled his eyes and motioned for John to pass him the pen. Shielding the paper from John’s eyes, he scrawled an answer and handed it back.
Your hair is even more ridiculous in person than it looked on screen.
John tipped his head back and laughed. If you could call it laughing. Rodney was astounded that a noise that ugly could come out of someone so attractive. He immediately wanted to hear it every day.
“At least I have hair,” John shot back - verbally this time.
“Oh, that’s real classy,” Rodney grinned, “knock a man down while he’s laid up in a hospital bed.”
John’s answering grin faltered a bit. “You scared the hell out of me, you know,” he said. “When Radek called and told me you were hurt I was pretty sure that I’d missed my chance.”
“ Chance? ” Rodney choked, wishing he was able to at least sit up properly for what he hoped was coming next.
“Yeah,” John ducked his head. “My chance to...make it 10 wins in a row at chess.”
Rodney laughed so hard that he broke off into a coughing fit, sending Carson rushing back into the room. John looked suitably guilty after Carson’s admonishment and promised to be on his best behaviour from now on.
“You really are a Major Jackass,” Rodney teased when he got his breath back.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, McAsshole.”
“That’s Dr . McAsshole to you.”
A much more comfortable silence fell over them after that. John broke it after a minute. “You know, if you need some help getting home tomorrow I could..”
Rodney wanted to accept. God, he wanted to accept but John must have already missed one night of work and - -
“Hammond himself gave me the time off,” John interrupted Rodney’s inner debate. “Apparently the email network is pretty closely monitored here. He, uh, figured that I would be, ah, well sitting here in this chair until you got better.” John shrugged, like it didn’t matter to him that the General in charge of the entire mountain seemed to think they were - how had Carson put it? - that John was Rodney’s young man.
Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe...maybe Rodney could have this? Maybe it was time to let himself have this.
“As long as you don’t take us home in one of those penis metaphors that are on your calendar,” Rodney allowed. “And you let me buy you dinner sometime to say thank you.”
John barked another laugh. “It’s a date. Although I can’t promise that there won’t be any penises involved.”
Rodney threw a pillow at him, causing Carson to run back in the room and kick John out.
-*-*-*-
Epilogue - eight months later
Madison squealed in delight as she ripped open the Christmas wrapping paper to reveal a hot pink, child sized TAC vest.
Rodney hit John upside the head. “What did we agree?” he hissed.
John grinned at him, his bad leg outstretched on the rug as he sat underneath the tree helping Madison put it on. “We agreed that you could get her the science kit and I agreed to ignore you when you said that this was an inappropriate gift.” John pouted playfully. “Come on, Rodney, she just wants to be like her Daddy.”
Rodney softened at that. She did look ridiculously cute in the little vest and she’d wanted one ever since she had seen a picture of Rodney wearing one. “Pockets!” she had squeaked. “Want all the pockets.”
Rodney went off world a lot more these days. At first he’d thought it was some sort of guilt induced allowance after the premier science team had almost blown him up but somewhere in the past year and a bit, he’d proven himself to the SGC. Even Carter sought him out for help these days.
It was everything he had ever wanted when he was in Siberia, everything he had ever wanted when he used to fantasize about his triumphant return to the SGC.
More than everything, really.
Because, on top of the job and the recognition, more important than any of that, he had Madison. And John. Madison and John. He’d give up everything else in a heartbeat for them. They were family. They were home.
“Hey, Madison,” Rodney beckoned her over. “C’mere while we give John his present.”
Madison made her way over to Rodney, almost tripping up over the yards of empty wrapping paper that littered their living room. With Madison safely ensconced in his arms, almost like a safety blanket in case this went horribly wrong, Rodney passed a small box over to John.
John pressed a kiss against Rodney’s cheek and a louder, wetter kiss on the top of Madison’s head before opening the box to reveal a small silver key attached to a plastic fobbed keychain with a photograph of Madison, John and Rodney taken at the SGC winter barbeque.
“You want me to - - “
“Only if you want to,” Rodney rushed. “You don’t have to but - - “
John broke him off with a wet kiss. “Just you try and stop me,” he grinned.
“MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!” Madison shouted into the air as she waved an errant piece of tinsel.
Rodney laughed, edging them both closer to John until he was leaning into him. He smiled at his family. “What she said.”