Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the end, Atlantis did most of the work, though Rodney spent weeks developing a program to run simulations. He did have one stroke of luck: the Ancients had already developed a retrovirus that could be used to deliver a gene into Rodney's body. The problem was that he didn't know which gene he needed or what the ramifications of the virus would be aside from, hopefully, an ability to use Ancient technology. The outcomes of previous treatments were a particularly incomprehensible collection of asterisks.

For the first couple of weeks, Rodney was entirely alone with his work. Not only did John not make an appearance in the lab, but Rodney never saw him in the mess hall or even in the school room, where Rodney occasionally worked when his database connection became too unstable to be useful. Rodney told himself he was okay with this state of affairs. More than okay. In fact, he was happy he didn't have to see John. After all, John had lied to him, was deliberately hampering his efforts to meet the terms of their agreement, was essentially holding him prisoner. Why would Rodney want to spend more time with such a dubious character?

After two weeks of utter solitude, however, Rodney started to entertain second thoughts. It wasn't as if John were human, after all. Perhaps his behavior was perfectly acceptable in alien society. Maybe all that was needed was for Rodney to explain that humans (at least honorable, decent humans) did not act in such a manner, and John would promptly understand the error of his ways and agree to offer all the assistance he could to Rodney's experiments.

Well, maybe not.

Still, two days later when Rodney and John happened to pass in a hallway, Rodney unbent enough to offer John a slight nod. John didn't acknowledge Rodney at all, but that didn't matter. When two people in a castle the size of London manage to run into each other, someone had to have orchestrated the event, and they both knew that that someone hadn't been Rodney.

A few days after that, John 'happened' to visit the mess hall right when Rodney was in the middle of lunch. Rodney, who was still working on the garbled translation of the retrovirus side effects (he'd already discovered that 'unbearable' and 'agony' were not in the translation program, which he considered to be an unconscionable oversight), and was more than happy to take a break. He waved at John to join him.

Instead, John moved to a table on the other side of the room.

Rodney glowered at the obnoxious alien and seriously considered leaving. Unfortunately, his mind persisted in pointing out that John's mere presence was a step in the right direction on John's part, which meant it was Rodney's turn to put forth some effort. Grumbling to himself, Rodney closed his computer and stomped over to John's table. Without waiting for permission, he sat down. "What is wrong with you?" he asked bluntly.

John savagely speared a chip (which John called French fries, to Rodney's frequent annoyance) and snarled, "Nothing is wrong with me."

"Right," Rodney said flatly. "Because it makes perfect sense for you to ask me to solve a problem for you and then do your best to insure that the problem is impossible to solve. Wait! That makes no sense at all." He rolled his eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't want me to leave."

John went very still and Rodney's brain, which usually wasn't very good with people, made the obvious connection. "You don't want me to leave," he breathed softly. John flushed, turning his cheeks a very pretty shade of purple. "You don't want me to leave," Rodney repeated, louder. Rodney frowned. "Why don't you want me to leave?"

"I'm having a tough time with that myself," John snapped.

Rodney ignored him. "You're a highly advanced alien from a technologically superior society," he said, his voice thoughtful. "I, on the other hand, am a mere human, albeit a vastly intelligent one. Why would it matter to you if I left?"

"Rodney," John said and his voice was a warning.

One which Rodney continued to ignore. "There's nothing you need from me. The castle is full of food, shelter, even entertainment. So what service could I - oh." Rodney stared at John, who was looking desperate. "Are you lonely?"

John's whole face was purple now, and he suddenly appeared to find something fascinating with his french fries. After a few minutes, Rodney realized he wasn't getting an answer and he sighed. "I can always visit, you know." John looked up at that, and the hopeful expression on his face made Rodney continue, no matter how awkward he felt discussing his emotions. "I don't think we're all that far from the village. Once the forest is safe, I can visit at any time. Oh! And I can bring Radek." John frowned uncertainly, but Rodney brightened at the thought. "He would love this place. And Jeannie, of course, I'd want you to meet her. Ronon and Teyla would probably come as well." There was a clatter as John's fork dropped. Rodney frowned as he saw John's one visible hand (he always kept his left hand in his lap or behind his back. Rodney never mentioned it because he suspected it was some sort of strange alien etiquette. If so, he wanted nothing to do with it.) was trembling. "They won't hurt you," he said gently. "I promise." John swallowed convulsively, and nodded. "Then you'll help me?" Rodney asked hopefully. He'd rather not have to resort to the alien retrovirus if he could possibly help it.

"Okay," John answered, his voice rough with an emotion Rodney couldn't identify. "I'll help."

ooo

The next morning, Rodney got up early and carefully saved all of his work on the retrovirus in a hidden file. The latest batch of the virus, which still only had a 50% chance of working and had a 75% chance of causing a host of untranslatable issues, was buried in the back of the refrigerator unit. As he removed all traces of his experiments, Rodney's foremost feeling was one of relief. The prospect of being able to operate the castle's technology on his own was an exciting one, but it wasn't worth possible death or disfigurement. Not when there was an alternative.

The first few days of working with John were as awkward and uncomfortable as Rodney's first week at the castle had been. Their conversations were strictly focused on work, and John spent most of each day on the opposite side of the lab, somehow turning on the computers with his mind.

Finally, Rodney couldn't take it any more. He could accept that the Ancients were more advanced than humans and he could accept that there were enormous aspects of their technology that he had not yet mastered. What he couldn't understand, however, was how they managed to develop technology that could be controlled mentally. "Are you psychic?" he finally snapped at John in exasperation as yet another console lit up without the slightest bit of physical contact. "How are you doing that?"

"I'm not sure," John admitted. "I didn't get that far in school."

Rodney's thoughts, which had been working ahead to the simulations he needed to write once they found a device to create the insecticide, stumbled back to John. "What do you mean?"

John shrugged, but Rodney thought he looked a little embarrassed. "I was only nine when Atlantis was evacuated."

Rodney sat back with a frown, simulations forgotten for the moment. "I'm still confused by this timeline. I understand that ten thousand years ago, something happened that made everyone leave Atlantis. Involving something called the Wraith?" John nodded. "And then it took you ten thousand years to arrive at Earth. Which makes no sense whatsoever, because either you were constrained by the limitations of the speed of light - which is impossible, because there aren't any stars within ten thousand light years of Earth - or you aren't, which means you could have gotten here faster." Rodney thought about his last conclusion, found it a bit uncertain, so added, "Unless there is a velocity limitation beyond the speed of light, of course."

"We didn't come straight here," John said. "I mean, I don't know about all of the physical limitations of the universe or anything, but we couldn't come from our planet directly to Earth. We couldn't risk the Wraith following us."

That made sense, though ten thousand years of evasive maneuvers seemed a little excessive. "What about the others?" Rodney asked. "The ones who went back to Earth through the stargate?" Rodney had seen the castle's stargate and, until John had explained that they didn't have enough power to activate the gate, Rodney had been torn between the desire to see another planet and the need to stay behind for Jeannie. "What happened to them?"

"We don't know for sure," John said with a sigh. "Elizabeth tried to find them when we first arrived, but the scanners showed no pure Ancients on Earth. There were a few people with Ancient genes, though. Elizabeth thought that the survivors either ascended or went native." He shrugged, but his pained expression belied his casual gesture. "After ten thousand years, it wasn't as if we were expecting to find anyone we knew. My people rarely live to be more than a hundred."

Which sounded pretty good compared to Rodney's life expectancy, but Rodney didn't see any reason to point that out. He also avoided the issue of ascension; they'd already had that argument. It wasn't Rodney's fault that John couldn't see the flawed reasoning behind wanting to become an immortal energy being.

Out of conversational gambits, Rodney turned back to the lab bench. "Could you turn this on?" he asked, holding up a cube that neither he nor John had been able to identify.

Instead of using his mind like he had before, John stepped forward to touch the device and Rodney felt a strange ache in his chest as John stood next to him. Clearing his throat to cover the unexpected sensation, he focused on the box. What had once been an empty, open-sided box now contained a small sun of energy. Rodney frowned and leaned closer, trying to guess the sun's purpose. Next to him, John gasped. Rodney looked up irritably. "What?"

"I think I know what this is." John touched the box reverently. "It's a...a..." He frowned. "I don't have an English word for it, but it's a healing device. They're very difficult to make and very rare. I thought the evacuees had taken them all."

"Healing device," Rodney repeated thoughtfully, inspecting the box. "What can it heal?"

"Anything," John said simply. "Even death."

Rodney blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, maybe not quite everything," John said. "It didn't do much against the plague, for one thing. And you've got to get to the body pretty early, before decomposition begins, or you can't revive it."

Rodney gripped the lab bench, because his legs suddenly felt very wobbly. "You're telling me that, as long as the corpse is fresh, this device can bring a person back from the dead?" John nodded. "You can resurrect someone with this device?" John nodded. "Your people conquered death?"

"Well, there's always decompos-"

John's voice cut off as Rodney, unable to control his elation, grabbed him in a giant bear hug. Almost immediately Rodney jumped back. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Rodney's voice trailed off when John didn't seem upset.

"You touched me," John said softly.

Rodney cocked his head. "Yes, and again, I'm really sorry if-"

"You touched me." John's voice was full of wonder.

"Shouldn't I have?" Rodney asked tentatively. Suddenly John leapt forward and wrapped his arms around Rodney. Rodney squeaked. "Air! Air, I need air!"

John released him from the hug, but he continued to hold Rodney's bicep in his right hand (the left, once again, behind his back). "Thank you," John said thickly.

"You're welcome," Rodney said dubiously.

After another few seconds, John let go of Rodney's arm and the two of them returned to the study of the healing box. Neither one mentioned the embrace.

ooo

For all they avoided speaking of it, that brief moment of physical intimacy managed to mostly overcome the weeks of bitterness and Rodney found that he was grateful for the change. It was nice to have a dinner companion again, and in retrospect, the labs were really quite creepy when you were alone.

After a few more days, Rodney felt comfortable enough to ask a question that had been plaguing him for months. "John," he said, and apparently his nervousness carried in his voice, because the alien froze. Rodney winced and plunged forward. "I couldn't help but notice that you and Elizabeth look very different." John's visible hand clenched into a fist and Rodney considered abandoning the question. His curiosity, however, would not be denied. "Why is that? I mean, aren't you related?"

John was silent for a very, very long time. So long, in fact, that Rodney had decided he wasn't getting an answer and had returned to his programming while debating whether he should apologize or reword the question and ask again.

"There was an accident," John said abruptly. Rodney snapped his attention to the alien. "A lab accident."

Rodney frowned. "And they couldn't fix it?" He didn't bother saying it loud, but he doubted John had forgotten that they had recently found a device that could resurrect the dead.

"It happened just before the Wraith attacked," John said. "And I was...not cooperative. If Elizabeth hadn't agreed to stay behind to transport the city, I probably would have died in a cell." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, Elizabeth spent much of our travel time trying to make me normal again. I think that's one of the reasons we took so long getting to Earth."

Rodney winced at the thought of Elizabeth trying to perform any kind of scientific endeavor. "I'm sorry she wasn't able to help."

"Actually, I'm much better than I was." Rodney stared at John in disbelief. "Really," John insisted. "I used to be...dangerous. Violent." He looked away. "I attacked people. That's why I was in the cell."

Rodney didn't know what to say. On the one hand, he couldn't picture John being violent. On the other, it was hard to imagine that after even ten thousand years, Elizabeth hadn't made at least some difference. A thought struck him. "Is that why you can't remember your name?" John arched an eyebrow in question, so Rodney clarified. "The accident. Is that why you can't remember your name? Or is it just that so much time has passed?"

John shook his head. "Neither. The Asgard cloning process is perfect as long as you don't mess with it. Elizabeth never forgot her real name."

"What is it?" Rodney asked, unable to help himself. The chance to learn the name of a real alien-

"I don't remember." Rodney deflated. "Sorry," John said sympathetically. "But she wouldn't tell me. If we were going to live on Earth, she said she had to use an Earth name."

"But I still don't understand - oh." Rodney shook his head at his own stupidity. "Of course. Elizabeth interfered with the Asgard technology."

"Behavior modification. She altered my consciousness each time I was cloned. Just a little. Just enough to remove the violent tendencies."

"But she didn't fully understand the technology," Rodney said, completing the line of thinking. "So some of your memories were lost. Maybe even some of your personality."

"I don't have much desire to explore labs," John offered. "That didn't change."

Rodney looked around, realizing for the first time how difficult it was for John to be here. "I'm sorry."

"We brought the iratus bug with us," John said with a shrug. "We should be willing to clean it up."

Rodney really couldn't argue against that point, so he went back to a safer subject. "Did she change anything else while you were being cloned? Anything physical?" Now John looked really uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," Rodney said, feeling like had had apologized more today than in the rest of his life prior to Atlantis. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it." Not that understanding made acceptance any easier.

"It's okay," John said. Rodney was entirely unconvinced. To his surprise, however, John continued. "At one point I had yellow eyes and no hair. I also had an exoskeleton in addition to my regular bones, and my body shape was much less humanoid."

"Hm," Rodney said, inspecting John more closely than he had since that very first day. "She did a good job. At least you're attractive."

"I'm hideous," John said flatly.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "No, you really aren't." John bit his lip and studied the lab bench. Rodney wanted to push, but now seemed like a bad time for it, so he instead opted to ask the other question that had been tormenting his curiosity. "Can I see? Can I see what you look like under the cloak?"

John's eyes took on a distinct hunted expression. "I'm ugly," he whispered.

"I'm sure you aren't," Rodney said. John didn't look convinced, so Rodney continued, giving voice to thoughts he had been secretly harboring for weeks. "You couldn't be ugly," he whispered. "Not to me."

John stared and Rodney did his best to not look away. Finally, John's right hand went to the clasp at the throat of the cloak. The fabric slowly slid to the floor.

It was the shell that caught Rodney's eye first. A deep, rich, iridescent blue dome covering all of John's back, at once hard and beautiful. It was attached to the body with strips of chitin that ran gracefully over John's clearly outlined ribs, tapering out over his stomach. Solid plates of chitin lay over his chest, covering the most vital organs in a thick armor. As alien as John's body was, it was also deeply beautiful, and Rodney drew in a breath of wonder.

Then he saw John's left arm and he stumbled back in horror. Long, narrow, covered in flaking chitin and bristles, it was less like an arm and more like a foreleg. Instead of a hand, the leg ended in a nasty looking pair of pinchers.

Immediately Rodney realized his mistake, but it was too late. Pain and hurt flooded John's face and before Rodney could regain either his physical or mental equilibrium, John was gone.

Rodney's first thought was: Oh, no.

His second was that John was going to start avoiding him again, and Rodney fully deserved it.

His third thought was that he couldn't condemn John to a life of loneliness simply because Rodney had been an ass. Also, if he never saw John again, Rodney would never have the chance to apologize to him.

His fourth thought was that there was no way Rodney could find John if John didn't want to be found.

Unless...

Rodney headed for the medical lab at a run.

An hour later, Rodney was pacing the lab in frustration. A tiny part of him was happy that he hadn't died or gone into convulsions or suffered from any other horrible side effect. The rest, however, was seething with anger and anxiety. How long was this retrovirus going to take?

He deliberately avoided the other obvious question.

With a snarl, Rodney slapped the nearest console, and immediately started back as the instrument lit up. For a second he just stared in disbelief, before letting out a sigh of relief that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Gripping the side of the console, Rodney tried to focus his thoughts. "Where's John?" he asked, hoping the computer would understand that John had a new name or at least-

A map of Atlantis materialized out of thin air, with a glowing dot in the castle's highest tower. Rodney closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

ooo

By the time he reached the tower, Rodney was gasping. He stopped just outside the door to catch his breath, and caught himself fussing with his hair and straightening his clothes. Stop it, he told himself. John doesn't care what you look like. His hands seemed unconvinced, because they ran through his hair once more before Rodney firmly tucked them away in his pockets.

All thoughts about hair or appearances disappeared the moment Rodney stepped into the tower to see John lying in the middle of the room, curled up into a small, miserable ball. John's human arm was wrapped over his chest and the insect arm was draped behind his shell, as if John were hoping keeping it out of sight would allow him to forget it was there.

His vision suddenly blurry, Rodney quietly stepped into the room and crouched next to John. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to gently touch John's hair. "I am so sorry. John, you have to know that you aren't ugly. You're not. I was surprised, that's all."

John curled up tighter, tucking his chin into his chest and pressing his knees against his torso. Rodney felt sick to his stomach. He considered leaving, but John looked so small and vulnerable, despite his shell, that Rodney couldn't leave him alone. Not like this. Not until John understood that he wasn't ugly. Not at all.

Settling down more comfortably on the floor, Rodney took a deep breath and tried again. "I don't think I ever told you this, but when I first saw your face, I thought you were one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen." Not letting himself think about it too much, Rodney began to stroke John's hair. "Even your hair is beautiful," he said tilting his head as he considered the unruly, gravity-defying mop. "Unique. I've never seen anything like it. And your skin is such an extraordinary shade of blue." His fingers slid down to brush John's cheek. John stiffened, then relaxed, his chin lifting every so slightly off of his chest. The knot in Rodney's own chest began to loosen and he ran his fingers down John's neck to the smooth dome of John's back. "Your shell is amazing. I've never seen such an exquisite shade of blue. Like sapphires." John's legs began to ease down and he shifted onto his stomach, exposing more of his shell to Rodney's touch and, incidentally, causing his insect arm to brush against Rodney's fingers.

Rodney gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue stroking, this time over the rough surface of John's arm. Rodney cringed as chitin and hair bristles flaked off under his fingers, but he found that the arm wasn't nearly as disgusting as he had imagined. "Even this," he told John thickly, "Even this is beautiful, because it's a part of you."

John twisted his head around and Rodney met and held John's incredulous look until John swallowed and nodded, hiding his face in his good arm. Rodney blinked rapidly and hoped his voice wouldn't crack as he tried to find a firm conversational footing. "Can you feel this?" he asked abruptly. The chitin probably didn't contain much in the way of nerves.

After a hesitation, John answered hoarsely. "A little. When you touch the hairs."

Rodney's curiosity immediately took over. He placed a finger at the very tip of one of the bristles and gently pushed down. "Can you feel that?" he asked. John nodded. Still pushing down, Rodney moved the bristle in a circle.

John gasped.

Rodney suddenly became very aware of his body. Heat began pooling in his groin.

Still working the bristle with one hand, Rodney used his other to stroke the border between skin and the plates of armor over John's chest. "How about this?" he whispered. "Can you feel this?" John's breath quickened as he nodded.

Rodney started on another bristle, moving his other hand lower to trace the edges of the chitin on John's stomach. John was panting now, and there was a distinct budge under his loose trousers. Rodney swallowed hard, desperately wanting...needing...something. To touch, yes, and to be touched. To...to...take a chance, maybe. Rodney steeled his nerves and lowered one hand to cup John's groin.

John let out a choked gasp and Rodney's entire body felt as if it had been lit on fire. "Is this okay?" he croaked. John nodded and Rodney let out a hot rush of air as he realized that this was really happening, that he was about to have sex. With a man. After this, there was no going back. He would be an invert. A homosexual. A pervert.

Rodney looked John in the eye and managed a smile. Then he slipped his hand under the waistband of John's pants and grasped John's erection in his hand.

John arched into Rodney's touch, turning halfway onto his back before gravity and the curve of his shell rolled him back onto his side. With his free hand, Rodney held John's shoulder to balance him as Rodney began stroking.

John groaned and his eyes filled with tears even as his face twisted up in pleasure. Still moving his hand, Rodney leaned down and gently kissed the tears away, whispering soothing words as John began to thrust into Rodney's hand. After only a few thrusts, John stilled and warmth spread over Rodney's hand.

Pressing one last kiss to John's temple, Rodney pulled his hand away, wiping the sticky fluid off on his own pants leg. "Are you okay?" he asked John, who was staring at him with a stunned expression on his face. John nodded slowly. "Had you ever done that before?" John shook his head. Rodney took a deep breath. "Not even for yourself?" John shook his head again. Rodney closed his eyes and willed his erection down to a manageable level, because he clearly wasn't going to be able to do anything about it now.

When he had himself under control, he opened his eyes to see John watching him nervously. "You should get some sleep," Rodney suggested. "Come on. I'll walk you to your room."

"Okay," John whispered. He sounded broken. Shattered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Rodney asked as pushed himself up onto trembling legs.

"I'm okay. I-I'm okay." He scrambled to his feet, though his legs looked as uncertain as Rodney's felt. "Thank you."

Rodney didn't know whether to laugh with joy, or cry with frustration. He settled on a smile that felt like a grimace as he gripped John's human bicep. "Any time," he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. "Come on, now. Let's get you to your room."

The walk to John's room was silent, and Rodney found himself making connections that he should have made earlier. John had said that the lab accident happened when he was nine years old and Atlantis was abandoned soon after. Since then, the only people John had had significant contact with were Elizabeth and Rodney, and Rodney was pretty sure that Elizabeth was John's mother. Even if she wasn't, the translation program that Elizabeth had written to teach John English hadn't included any words related to sexual intercourse. That omission now seemed very telling. Taking into account John's obvious loathing of his own mutated body, Rodney realized that he shouldn't have been surprised that John was a virgin. In fact, the real question here was not 'why John had never fornicated before?', but 'why had John agreed to fornicate with Rodney?' Had John even known what Rodney was doing to him? Had Rodney taken advantage of a man who in some ways was still as innocent as a child?

If John shared Rodney's uncertainty, he made no mention of it. In fact, he said nothing at all. He simply followed Rodney through the castle to his own room, and when Rodney pulled back the blankets on John's bed, John docilely crawled under the sheets. Rodney sighed and was halfway to the door when John finally spoke. "Have you done it before?"

Rodney swallowed hard and made himself turn back around. "It's called fornication, John, and yes, I've done it before."

John was sitting up now and watching Rodney avidly. He nodded in the direction of Rodney's groin, where not even the looseness of Rodney's trousers was enough to cover the fact of his arousal. "Are you going to have fornication with yourself now?"

This was awful, but Rodney had brought it on himself. "Yeah, I am. It's, uh, it's called masturbation."

John nodded. "Can I watch?"

Rodney almost stumbled under the wave of lust those words inspired. "Okay," he said, his voice so raspy that John might not have even heard it, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Okay."

He leaned against the wall for support, then changed his mind and pulled the desk chair over to the bed. With trembling fingers he unbuttoned his trousers and spread them wide, then untied the shorts that the Atlanteans used for underwear. Feeling horribly, wonderfully exposed, Rodney took himself in a firm grip and began to stroke.

John was clearly fascinated by Rodney's efforts, his wide eyes flickering between Rodney's hand and face. Rodney only had eyes for John, taking nearly as much pleasure from the alien's obvious awe as he did from his own hand. When John reached out and tentatively touched Rodney's erection, Rodney closed his eyes and his body bowed up as he erupted in ecstasy.

The aftershocks were still shuddering through his body when he opened his eyes to see John curiously licking at his sticky fingers. Rodney bit his lip to hold back a moan. "You are so beautiful," he whispered instead.

John smiled. "Sleep with me?" he offered hopefully.

Rodney smiled back and crawled into the bed.

ooo

Rodney woke up to find an insect arm draped over his waist. Objectively speaking, it was still disgusting, but last night Rodney had lost the last remnants of his objectivity regarding John. He may not fantasize about the arm any time soon, but he no longer found it repulsive. In fact, it was rather intriguing. What kind of lab accident could have caused this kind of mutation? And exactly how sensitive were those bristles?

A nose nuzzling the nape of his neck derailed Rodney's train of thought. He pressed back into the warm body behind him and murmured, "Good morning."

"Morning," John answered. He still sounded half-asleep.

Rodney grinned. "Sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm. You?"

"Very." Rodney twisted around so he was facing John. "Any regrets?" he asked softly.

John looked genuinely confused. "About what?"

Rodney grinned again. "In that case, I want to try something I learned from two very talented women on my sixteenth birthday."

John smiled back, his face full of trust, as Rodney slowly kissed his way down John's torso.

ooo

While abstinence of any sort had rarely been observed in the McKay household, Rodney was fully aware that current social mores looked upon fornication with a dark eye. Fornication with another man was so far from acceptable that it was classified as a form of mental illness, to be treated with extensive behavior modification.

After a week of nightly intercourse, Rodney had decided that whatever harm their actions may be doing to John's sanity, fornication was doing wonders for John's confidence. Gone was the quiet, standoffish alien smothered in concealing cloaks who meekly activated technology from a distance. Instead, Rodney found himself paired with an exuberant young man who couldn't wait to show off every aspect of his remarkable home.

Rodney had to admit that he was feeling more than a little exuberance himself. Atlantis had always been beautiful to him, but now that he could interact with her he discovered that she was more than just a home, more than just an awe-inspiring collection of technology. Instead, she was a living, thinking entity, capable of independent response and complex processing far beyond anything Rodney had imagined. Sometimes he thought she might even be sentient, though John insisted this was not the case. Still, to walk down Atlantis's halls and feel the bright pathways of her thoughts in the back of his mind fulfilled fantasies Rodney had not even known he had.

John was like a man possessed, dragging Rodney from room to room, parading a dizzying variety of scientific instruments, small conveniences, and random gadgets. Each time Rodney mastered a new device and suggested that it might be time to return to their pesticide research, John would push ahead to the next room, promising even greater wonders. Laughing, Rodney would let John have his way and was never disappointed. The iratus insect problem sank further and further into back of his mind.

Everything was not perfect, of course. For one thing, John had a terrible temper, either as a lingering effect of his lab accident, or simply because of his personality. Unlike Rodney (whose own temper was admittedly not the most serene), who would shout and argue and generally purge his anger in the most vocal way possible, John would storm off and sulk until his anger had run its course or, possibly, until he had decided Rodney had suffered enough solitude to be sufficiently punished. Rodney was not sure which motivation directed John's thinking and for the most part, he didn't care. Now that he could access the castle's sensors, he rarely let John get away with hiding, though John was making it more and more difficult for Rodney to find him. When Rodney debated within himself whether he should follow John or allow him privacy, he took assurance from the fact that if John truly wanted to be alone, he could arrange not to be found.

In bed, things ran more smoothly, at least until they reached the issue of sodomy. Sodomy was something Rodney had heard spoken of by younger members of society who were deliberately trying to be as vulgar as possible, and as a result he had some idea of what it entailed. The actual act proved to be more complicated than either he or John had expected, however, and it took most of a night to work out the details. As John pulled himself from Rodney's body, Rodney had to admit that the feeling of closeness was easily worth the effort of learning. The problem came when John asked Rodney to reciprocate.

"I'm sorry, John," Rodney said, inspecting John's anus with a sinking feeling. He had already had doubts about the logistics of John's shell, but this... "I don't think it's going to be possible."

"Why not?" John asked, his voice full of hurt and disappointment.

Rodney reached out and delicately traced the bottom edge of the shell, which ran a protective border around John's rectum. "It's your shell," he said softly, dreading John's reaction. "There's no give. You can't stretch chitin."

John flushed, a flicker of the old self-loathing in his eyes. "Break it, then. Break the damn shell."

"No," Rodney hissed, appalled.

"Please," John said. "I can take the pain. Just...break it."

Rodney sat back, crossed his arms, and let his expression speak for him.

John buried his face in the crook of his good arm. "I hate this," he said, his voice muffled.

Rodney softened. "I know," he murmured, reaching out to pat John's hair.

"I wish I had never gone in that lab," John continued. "I wish I had never touched that damn bug."

Rodney's curiosity was peaked, as John rarely let any of the details of his accident slip, but now was not the time to push. Instead he slid as close as he could to John, one hand cradling John's neck, the other stretched out over the smooth surface that damnable dome.

John cried himself to sleep.

ooo

The next morning John wouldn't look Rodney in the eye, and for the first time in weeks the continual stream of Ancient technology failed to hold Rodney's interest. He put down a cooking timer with a sigh. "I'm going to the pesticide lab."

"No!"

Rodney glanced over to see John staring at his feet, blushing furiously. "Why not?"

"Because...because..." John looked around the room as if hoping to find an answer in the smooth grey walls. "The stargate!" he said suddenly. "We should look at the stargate."

Rodney stared at John in bemusement. "You said there wasn't enough power to run it."

"Maybe I was wrong," John said defensively, his eyes meeting Rodney's for half a second before skittering off to a hideous bit of sculpture. "I mean, the lights work, and the computers, and the food synthesizers. Why not the stargate? Maybe there's just something wrong with it. A bad crystal, or something."

He did have a point, though even Rodney could see that there was more to this story than John was telling. After last night, however, he wasn't about to refuse John anything that Rodney had the power to give. "All right," he said with a small shrug. "Let's go see the stargate."

Despite the fact that he had seen it many times, Rodney still had a difficult time believing in the idea of the stargate. A ring that could transport you to another world instantaneously? Even that crackpot Jules Verne would have scoffed at the idea. Yet Atlantis revealed new technical miracles every day. Why was an instantaneous transport device any stranger than a healing device that could reanimate corpses, or a retrovirus that could rewrite Rodney's DNA? In the end, it all boiled down to science.

With that in mind, Rodney turned on the console nearest the stargate. As always, he felt a thrill as the computer lit up at his touch and thoughts of the pesticide lab and of Rodney's earlier ennui faded away. No matter what happened between him and John, Rodney was a part of Atlantis and Atlantis was a part of Rodney. No one could take that away from him.

It didn't take long to find the diagnostic programs and soon Rodney had a battery of tests running. He settled back into a nearby chair and contemplated the stargate.

Unlike the rest of Atlantis's attempts at art, Rodney could appreciate the beauty of the symbols carved into the ring, probably because they served a practical purpose. John had explained how the gate addresses worked, and Rodney was fascinated by the brilliant simplicity of the system. Of course, the symbols on this stargate no doubt correlated to celestial landmarks in Atlantis's original galaxy, rather than the Milky Way, but what did that matter? If you were already going to a different planet, you might as well pick a planet in a different galaxy.

Rodney glanced over at John, who was playing a computer game at a nearby console, and thought about what it would be like to take him to another planet. One where they could wander freely, without fear of discovery. Or, even better, one where discovery wouldn't matter, because the inhabitants would accept John just as he was. A place where he and John could live and work and love and no one would think there was anything wrong with them or with their relationship.

He sighed. It was a lovely dream, but it couldn't happen. At least not until Rodney was sure that Jeannie was taken care of.

"What's wrong?"

Rodney looked up to see John watching him. "Nothing," Rodney said with a sad smile. "Just thinking about Jeannie. I wish I knew how she was doing."

John chewed on his lip, studying his game though he wasn't touching the controls. Finally he turned to face Rodney fully. "There might be a way."

ooo

Rodney stared at the exceptionally small computer. Despite its small size, it managed to appear bulky and unattractive, nothing at all like Atlantis's sleek designs. "What is it?"

"Um, a long-distance viewing device?" Rodney turned his stare on John, who explained sheepishly, "It doesn't really have a name."

Rodney sighed. "Do you at least know how it works?"

John winced. "Not really. It was given to us by a strange man with a colorful scarf, who wasn't big on answering questions. Though he was very charming," he added thoughtfully. "Just a little odd."

Putting aside the question of how the computer worked for the moment (though he would no doubt figure it out eventually), Rodney peered into the screen and instructed, "Show me Jeannie." The screen blinked twice then flickered to life and Rodney smiled as Jeannie's face appeared. She was obviously healthy, her curly auburn hair was no longer knotted up into an imitation of Ronon's incomprehensible hairstyle, and Rodney didn't think it was a illusion of the small-scale image that she had grown a couple of inches. For the first time in her life, Jeannie McKay looked like a lady and Rodney's heart swelled with affection.

Then she spoke, and affection was replaced with annoyance. "We're getting married on Friday, and that's all there is to it."

"Why that little lecher," Rodney snarled. "He promised he'd wait till I got back."

"Who?" John asked.

"Zelenka." Rodney's voice was a growl. "Radek Zelenka." He snapped at the screen "Show me the rest of the room."

The view shifted and Rodney damn near dropped the computer as a familiar face appeared. "Kolya," Rodney hissed.

On the screen Kolya said with an ingratiating smile, "That is not much time, my love."

John inched closer. "Kolya?"

"Kolya!" Rodney's whole body went numb with horror, a rushing sound in his ears obliterating Jeannie's response to Kolya's, Kolya's, comment. "She's going to marry Kolya?"

"Who's Kolya?"

Rodney stumbled back, and only a quick grab on John's part saved the computer. "I have to stop her. She can't marry Kolya. She's going to marry Radek. Or be a nun! Kolya is not an option!"

"Rodney."

"My pack, where is my pack? I know I'm close the village, I was halfway..."

"Rodney."

"...there before I left the track and even with the storm I know I couldn't have gone that far off..."

"Rodney!"

"What?"

John gripped Rodney's shoulder with his good hand. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is that my sister is about to marry the devil." Rodney gestured frantically toward the computer. "And I've got to stop her."

"But-"

"No buts." Rodney paused, realizing how obscene that sounded, then shrugged and plowed ahead. "I am going to rescue Jeanne from a fate worse than death, whether she wants it or not."

Rodney started forward again, and this time John used both arms to stop him, the pinchers of his left arm gently biting into Rodney's tunic. "You can't go out there," he said earnestly. "The iratus bugs are all over the place."

"That's an acceptable risk," Rodney said simply. He shrugged off John's grip and strode through the door.

John hurried after him. "You don't understand. You can't get bitten by one of these bugs, Rodney."

"You said they're big, right?" Rodney ducked into a transporter and hit the button just as John jumped in as well. "I'll pay attention and avoid them."

"Sometimes they hide in trees," John said insistently. The transporter doors opened and they both disembarked. "Or in the underbrush. You won't even see them coming."

Rodney stopped and turned to face John, who was obviously beside himself with fear. "Listen, John, this is my own fault," Rodney said. "If I had been focusing on the iratus pesticide as I should have been, the formula would have long since been developed and the iratus insects would not be a threat. I don't know what kind of man you think I am, but I am not going to allow Jeannie to suffer simply because I didn't focus on the task at hand."

"But...but it seems like she wants to marry this Kolya," John said desperately.

"Clearly she doesn't know him as well as I do. Now, excuse me, I need to get ready." Rodney glanced down at his feet. "Do you know where I can find better shoes?"

"Rodney, wait."

The utter defeat in John's voice stopped Rodney in his tracks. "What is it, John? What's wrong?"

John took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh, looking crushed. "There's another way."

ooo

Rodney stared at the small, raised platform, then at John. "You mean you've had this all this time and you never told me?" John at least had the grace to look abashed. Rodney didn't particularly care. "I could have gone home at any point and you didn't tell me?"

John hung his head. "I'm sorry," he said miserably.

Rodney was torn between a desire to pummel John to death or to hug him until he understood that Rodney would never abandon him. In the end he chose something in between. "I'm not leaving forever, John. I will come back."

John nodded, but he kept his gaze firmly affixed to the transporting device, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. Rodney sighed and pulled John into a gentle embrace. "Give me a week, John, that's all. One week and I swear I'll come back." John sniffled. Rodney closed his burning eyes. "You won't be alone again, John. I promise you that."

"Okay," John said wetly, and his arms squeezed Rodney tightly.

Rodney returned the hug as well as he could with the shell in the way, and stumbled back onto the platform. This goodbye was too painful to draw out any further. "I'll see you soon," he promised the despondent alien.

John pushed a button on the console, and a twinkly light flooded over Rodney. Just before the room faded out of his vision, John opened his mouth as if he were saying something, but Rodney couldn't hear him over electric buzz of the light. He hoped it wasn't important.

In an instant, Rodney McKay found he was home.

He had exactly five seconds to marvel at the amazing instantaneous transport device; to realize that while he had arrived at the castle in early winter, it was now obviously late summer; and to see that someone was taking excellent care of his vegetable garden, and then the back door to the cottage slammed open and a auburn-haired blur crashed into him, knocking them both to the ground. "Rodney! You're back!" Jeannie cried, hugging Rodney so tightly that he couldn't breathe.

"Hello, Jeannie," Rodney choked. "Um, I can't breathe."

Jeannie sat back and glared at him. "Where have you been?"

Rodney hesitated, horrified at himself. How was it possible that he hadn't anticipated this very question? "That's a long story."

"It'd better be," Jeannie huffed. She threw her arms around Rodney again.

Rodney resigned himself to asphyxiation and hugged her back. Jeannie leaned back, still holding Rodney's arms as if she were afraid he would disappear the moment she let him go. "So?"

"Later," Rodney promised. "First, I want to know what's going on between you and Kolya."

Jeannie frowned. "How did you know about that?"

"Don't avoid the question," Rodney snapped back. "What happened to Radek?"

"It's all over between us," Jeannie said, crossing her arms and putting her nose in the air.

"What? How can it be over? You've been planning on marrying him since you were four."

"That was before."

"Before what?" Rodney shook his head and crossed his own arms. "It doesn't matter. You aren't marrying Kolya and that's final."

Jeannie's eyes flashed. "I am so."

"You are not," Rodney retorted. "You're marrying Radek. Or becoming a nun. Those are your two options."

Jeannie scrambled to her feet. "I hate you, Rodney McKay," she shouted, before running to the house and slamming the door shut.

Rodney pushed himself upright, cursing all of those good meals he'd been eating for almost a year, and hurried to the door. It didn't open, not even when he pounded on it. "Jeannie McKay, you open this door right this instant!"

"No!"

"Jeannie, I'm warning you, if you don't open this door I'll, I'll-"

"You'll what?" she shouted back. "Lock me up in the nunnery?"

Rodney kicked the door in frustration. "Since when do these doors have locks, anyway?"

No reply.

Rodney huffed an annoyed breath and started the long walk to the village. Zelenka had a lot of explaining to do.

ooo

He found Teyla before he found Zelenka. Fortunately, the innkeeper had an explanation, and after making sure Rodney was settled at a table and well supplied with food and tea, she sat down opposite and told the entire pathetic story. It was long and detailed and involved an unseemly number of tantrums on Jeannie's part, but it basically boiled down to this: Jeannie ended her relationship with Zelenka because Radek refused to marry her until Rodney's return.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Rodney stated.

"She is sixteen," Teyla said. Rodney had to admit the truth of that statement. "And she is Jeannie," Teyla added pointedly. Also true.

"But I'm back," Rodney said. "So she can marry Radek now."

"She has given her promise to Kolya." Teyla pronounced the name as if it produced a bad taste in her mouth.

"How is that even possible?" Rodney asked. "I wasn't here to give consent."

"Kolya has been trying to have you declared dead in absentia," Teyla said apologetically.

Rodney thumped his head on the table. "This is a disaster."

"Hm," Teyla said. It sounded like agreement.

ooo

The next few days were a blur of negotiations that might have appeared to an outside observer to be fraternal squabbling. Rodney went back to the cottage to explain to the locked door that Zelenka had promised to wait till Rodney's return to marry Jeannie. The locked door didn't reply. The next day he dragged Zelenka to the cottage to repeat the explanation. Still no response from the door. Radek, who was a shadow of his former self, refused to say anything to either Rodney or Jeannie, and he slunk back to his forge as soon as Rodney released him. The day after that, Rodney convinced Ronon to break down the door to the cottage, which was when Rodney discovered that Jeannie wasn't even in the house. A few dishes were broken before Rodney stomped back to the village, Ronon trailing in his wake.

"That girl is unbelievable," Rodney growled as he poked his spoon at a bowl of Teyla's best borscht. After a minute, he put the spoon aside. He was too upset to eat.

"What did you expect?" Teyla said. "She is a young, headstrong girl, who has spent the last year without her family. You won't tell her where you've been-," this was a point of contention for a lot of people, but Rodney still hadn't been able to come up with a plausible story, "-and when you return, you immediately attempt to take control of her life."

"But Kolya is a madman," Rodney protested. "He'll make her miserable."

"Agreed," Teyla said. "That is not the point."

Rodney buried his face in his hands. "I don't have much time," he said in a muffled voice. "I have to go back in four days."

"Go back to where?" Teyla asked. She had been patient the first day, but her requests for information were growing steadily more demanding.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Rodney said, stating the simple truth. This was the problem he was faced with: no one would believe the truth, and Rodney was incapable of telling a successful lie. Withholding information might annoy his friends, but at least it wouldn't cause them to question his sanity.

The fourth day, Rodney confronted Kolya. The arrogant bastard leered at Rodney as if he wasn't engaged to Rodney's sister. "McKay."

Rodney crossed his arms. After facing down a blue half-insect alien, immersing himself in dangerous technology, and injecting himself with a potentially deadly retrovirus, Kolya simply didn't have the same level of intimidation he had once had. "Kolya. Where is my sister?"

"She's safe." Kolya slowly looked up and down Rodney's body. "You've gained weight on your little adventure."

Rodney flushed, and snapped back, "And as you can see, I'm not dead. You'll never have my consent to marry Jeannie."

Kolya shrugged. "Jeannie will do what she wants to do." He stepped closer, until Rodney could feel the heat from Kolya's body. Rodney gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay where he was. "I will admit," Kolya added. "She was not my first choice. Perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement."

Now Rodney stepped back, just in time for Kolya's hand to caress air, instead of his cheek. "You will never be a part of this family," Rodney spit out, his skin crawling with disgust. "Never."

ooo

By the fifth day he was desperate, and as often happened with desperate men, Rodney did something rash. In exchange for the promise of Teyla and Ronon's assistance with a last ditch attempt to save Jeannie from a marriage worse than death, Rodney told them about Atlantis and John. He had only intended to give them the barest outline of the story (mysterious man, secret castle, promise to return), but once he started talking, Rodney found himself unable to stop. The last year of his life was so amazing, so implausible, so life-altering that it was a relief to finally have the chance to finally say it out loud, to hear in his own words just how completely his world had been turned upside down. When he had finished his story, Rodney sank back into his chair, feeling like a washcloth that had been severely wrung out.

Teyla and Ronon exchanged glances. Rodney didn't bother trying to read their expressions. Right now he was too tired to care what they thought. He knew that they wouldn't attempt to have him committed, and that was all that mattered.

"I will prepare the room," Teyla finally said.

Rodney blinked. "That's it? No questions? No assertions that I've lost my wits?"

"I wish to consider your story," Teyla said. "For now, I will prepare the room."

Rodney decided not to question his good fortune. "I'll get Radek."

Ronon just grunted and left.

Two hours after nightfall, Ronon reappeared with a kicking and screaming bundle draped over one shoulder. Teyla opened the door to the back room, the only one without windows, to reveal Zelenka bound hand and foot. Ronon tossed Jeannie onto the bed, and ran back out, slamming the door shut before Jeannie could make her escape.

There was a lot of screaming after that.

Rodney, who was positioned outside the door next to Teyla, winced. "Where did she learn that language?"

Teyla glanced at Ronon who suddenly seemed to feel the need to ramble off in the direction of the kitchen.

After a few hours Jeannie ran out of steam and the room grew suspiciously quiet. At midnight, Ronon took over the watch and Teyla and Rodney went upstairs to sleep.

Rodney came back down at dawn to find Teyla already at her post. "Any change?" Teyla shook her head.

Mid-morning, they opened the door to push a tray of food into the room. Ronon caught Jeannie as she tried to rush the door and gently placed her back on the bed. At least Zelenka was untied by this point. Rodney chose to consider that a good sign.

No one tried to escape at the mid-afternoon meal, though Zelenka and Jeannie were sitting at opposite ends of the room, pointedly not looking at each other. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Rodney whispered to Ronon.

"Too late now," Ronon said with a shrug. Rodney sighed.

A rhythmic thumping began near dawn of the seventh day and lasted for half an hour. Rodney chose not to think too closely about the possible causes of said thumping.

Noon on the seventh day, Teyla woke Rodney from a much-needed nap to say that Jeannie wanted to speak to him. Rodney rubbed his unshaven chin and half-heartedly attempted to straighten his rumpled clothes. Giving it up as a lost cause, he followed Teyla downstairs.

The first words out of Jeannie's mouth were: "I'm not going to marry Radek."

Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but closed it quickly when Teyla elbowed him in the ribs. Hard. "Okay," he said, scowling at Teyla.

Jeannie, who had been standing nearly at attention, relaxed slightly. "I'm not marrying Kolya either."

Rodney slumped in relief. "Good," he sighed. "That-that's good. Thank you." Then he frowned. "Wait. Why won't you marry Radek?"

"Because you are a self-absorbed, overbearing tyrant," Jeannie answered loftily.

Rodney's eyebrows shot up and he looked at Zelenka, who shrugged. "Okay," Rodney said slowly, not sure if he had a leg to stand on after the previous two and a half days. "Why take that out on Radek? He's done nothing wrong, except to stand by a promise he made to me."

Jeannie scowled. Rodney scowled back. Jeannie glanced at Zelenka, who looked hopeful. Jeannie's face softened and she managed a small smile. "Okay, fine," she said. "I'll marry Radek." Zelenka grinned. "But," Zelenka's grin faltered, "Only if you're at the wedding."

Everyone turned to Rodney, who couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Fantastic. Let's get the priest."

"The priest won't be here for another three days," Teyla said carefully.

Rodney's smile cut off abruptly. "What? Jeannie was supposed to get married on Friday."

"He was here Friday," Jeannie said, her arms crossed. "And I was locked in a room." She directed a warm smile in Zelenka's direction, then looked back at Rodney, frown firmly in place.

"I can't wait three days," Rodney said desperately. "I only had a week, and today is the last day. I have to leave tonight."

Jeannie's arms wrapped more tightly around her, and when she spoke her voice was thick with emotion. "You're my only family, Rodney. I'm not going to get married without you."

Zelenka wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders and she buried her face in his neck. "I understand the importance of a promise," he said to Rodney. "Do what you feel you must do."

Rodney closed his eyes, but there was nothing he could do. "I'll stay," he said, his voice breaking a little on the last word. "I'll stay for the wedding."

Her eyes still shining with unshed tears, Jeannie gave a cry of happiness and abandoned Zelenka to wrap her arms around Rodney. Rodney held her in a tight embrace and prayed that John would understand.

ooo

That night Jeannie threw herself an enthusiastic, if hastily-prepared, engagement party. From the safety of a shadowy corner, Rodney watched the revelers dance, sing, and eat as if the responsibilities of tomorrow were never going to come. Many of them he didn't even recognize, and while he had never been entirely comfortable in crowds, he found the press of bodies in his house to be nearly unbearable.

Finally he escaped to the cool safety of the outdoors and gave into an impulse he'd had ever since he'd agreed to extend his stay. Lifting his head to the sky, he whispered, "I'm coming back, John. Wait for me, I'm coming back."

It was a foolish notion - if John were watching he'd already know why Rodney was staying and if he wasn't then he would never know Rodney had tried to talk to him - but Rodney felt slightly better after saying the words. He could only hope that John had heard.

A soft footstep grabbed Rodney's attention and he spun around to find Teyla behind him. "Hello," he said sheepishly.

"I did not mean to startle you," she said in her soft voice, moving so that she was standing next to him. "It is a lovely night."

"It is," Rodney agreed. He hoped his voice didn't sound as weary as he felt. Judging from the look Teyla was giving him, it probably had. He sighed. "I shouldn't be here."

"If he is a true friend, then he will understand," Teyla said, patting Rodney on the shoulder.

"I hope so," Rodney said.

"He will," Teyla insisted.

Rodney nodded, not convinced at all.

ooo

The wedding was a simple affair, just the bride and groom, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon, and the priest. For the first time since he returned home, Rodney found himself able to put aside Atlantis and John and live just in this moment, walking his baby sister down the aisle and entrusting her to the man she loved. Jeannie was radiant and blessed everyone with her blinding smile, but she only had eyes for Zelenka. Zelenka was unwilling to let Jeannie more than arm's length away, obviously afraid that she would change her mind again. Rodney didn't think Radek had anything to worry about.

Afterwards, Rodney kissed Jeannie on her cheek and wished her good luck, and shook Radek's hand and wished him great patience. Zelenka smiled and said, "When you are not around, she is really quite charming."

Jeannie laughed and pretended to hit Zelenka, but the movement quickly turned into a kiss. Rodney rolled his eyes. "You two deserve each other."

Based on the pleased looks he got in reply, they had entirely missed his meaning.

As soon as he could leave - and certainly earlier than was polite - Rodney made his excuses and hurried to the cottage. According to John, the transportation device could bring him back from anywhere, but it probably wasn't a good idea to disappear in a blaze of light in front of the local priest.

"Okay, John," Rodney said from the safety of the forest's shadow, looking up at the sky with shining eyes. "Bring me home."

Thirty seconds later: "John? Did you hear me? I'm ready to come back."

Five minutes later: "Listen, you blue, bed-headed alien, bring me back now!"

Fifteen minutes later: "I'm not kidding, John, if you don't bring me back right now I'll turn you into a toad. Don't think I can't do it!"

An hour later: "Please, John. I-I'm sorry about the toad comment. I'm not sure I could do it anyway. Please, just let me come back home."

Fifteen minutes after that, Rodney was faced with three disturbing possibilities. The least unsettling was that John simply wasn't watching and had no idea that Rodney wanted to come home. Rodney didn't think that was very likely, but it was far and away better than the other two possible conclusions: either John couldn't bring Rodney back, or he didn't want Rodney back. Muttering a curse, Rodney spun around and hurried toward the cottage.

He was just stepping out the back door with a small pack of food over one shoulder, when Jeannie, Zelenka, Teyla, and Ronon hurried around the corner of the house. Rodney groaned. "Aren't you two supposed to be on your honeymoon? And you - don't you have an inn to run?"

As usual, Jeannie completely ignored his question. "What's in the bag, Rodney?"

"Nothing important," Rodney said defensively. "Just food." Four pairs of eyes glared at him and Rodney cracked. "For the trip. I'm going back to the castle."

Zelenka asked, "What about the transportation device?"

Rodney glared at Teyla, who shrugged. Deciding that it wasn't worth dragging out this argument (not to mention the fact that Rodney wasn't exactly surprised that Teyla had shared his secret with Jeannie), Rodney simply answered, "It's not working."

Zelenka frowned. "How do you know this? Do you have a method of communicating with the castle?"

"No," Rodney said, and he knew he was blushing. He shouldn't have left Atlantis without a communication device. The fact that he was desperately worried about Jeannie did not excuse such an obvious oversight.

Zelenka's frown deepened, but it was Jeannie who spoke next. "Well, you can't leave now. It'll be dark soon."

Rodney glanced up at the sinking sun. "It's not that far," he lied. "I can make it."

Jeannie and Zelenka snorted simultaneously. Really, it was as if they had been married for years. "You will not leave tonight," Teyla said. "And Ronon will accompany you tomorrow."

Ronon crossed his arms and looked menacing. Rodney didn't care. "I don't think so," he exclaimed. "And it's my choice."

Which, of course, was the absolute worst statement he could have made.

They didn't lock him in a room, but that didn't make Rodney any less a prisoner that night. Ronon and Teyla stood guard over the back and front doors respectively while Jeannie and Zelenka tried to keep Rodney entertained. Jeannie's contribution - gossip about the local farmers - merely served to irritate Rodney. Zelenka did marginally better with a summary of major inventions since Rodney went to the city and a list of proposed exhibitions for the next world's fair, to be held in Chicago, but after a few hours even science lost its luster. "Isn't there something better you could be doing on your wedding night?" Rodney snapped.

Jeannie blushed and Zelenka found an interesting speck of dirt on his trousers. Rodney just huffed in annoyance and wandered over to his bed to sulk.

If anyone had ordered Rodney to sleep that night, he would have told him (or, more likely, her) it was impossible, so he was surprised to wake up and find the sun streaming in through the cottage's lone window. With a triumphant cry, he rolled out of bed, grabbed his bag, and headed for the door.

He almost made it, but Jeannie was a step faster. "Promise me you'll come back," she said, and there were tears in her eyes.

Rodney's annoyance melted away. "I'll come back," he said and at that moment it was the most honest promise he had ever made. "John and I are working to make the forest safe again. As soon as we've done that, I'll come to visit. Maybe-," he hesitated, feeling unaccountably nervous, "Maybe you could come see us."

Jeannie smiled. "We'd like that," she said. Next to her, an obviously exhausted Zelenka nodded.

Rodney smiled in return. "I love you, Jeannie," he said, feeling a suspicious stinging in his own eyes.

"I love you, too," she answered, and she hugged him.

They held each other for several minutes before Rodney stepped away and hastily wiped his eyes. He turned to Zelenka and held out his hand. Ignoring it, Zelenka pulled Rodney into a quick embrace. "We are family now," Radek said, stepping back. "Never forget that."

For once, Rodney was unable to come up with a pithy response, so he answered simply, "I won't."

Next was Teyla, who nearly cracked his ribs with her embrace. "Remember your promise," she said sternly, while Rodney tried to regain his breath. "Return soon, or I will fetch you myself."

Rodney nodded and tried not to look intimidated. Turning to Ronon, he asked, "Ready?"

Ronon grunted and walked out the door.

Rodney allowed himself one last glance at his family and friends. "Goodbye," he said softly.

Before they could answer, he hurried away. He didn't look back again.

ooo

Even with Ronon, the trip through the forest was nightmarish. For one thing, Rodney didn't even know where Atlantis was - 'north of the road' covered a lot of land. For another, the woods were eerily quiet. Rodney shuddered as he followed Ronon through the silent trees. No birds, no animals, not even any insects.

Except one.

Ronon saw it first, a blue insect that resembled a beetle, except that it sat in the middle of a thick web and was the size of a large rat. Rodney recognized it in the seconds before Ronon flattened it with his enormous cudgel, and his stomach churned. Even if he hadn't been a genius, he would have been able to make the connection. Intelligent as he was, he saw the entire pictu

re instantly: the iratus bug, genetic manipulation, the lab accident, John.

Just as quickly, Rodney saw the solution.

Silently bemoaning John's continued refusal to talk about what had happened to him - this could have been fixed weeks ago - Rodney picked up the pace. "Come on," he told Ronon, who was poking at the messy remains of the iratus bug. "We need to hurry."

Despite the fact that Rodney didn't know the precise location of Atlantis, the castle was a very, very large structure and in the end it wasn't at all hard to find. If they had had more time, Rodney would have spared a moment to be amused at Ronon's awestruck expression as they stumbled past the last row of trees and onto Atlantis's metal surface, just a few feet away from a cluster of towering spires. As it was, however, Rodney just continued on into the nearest door and looked around frantically for a transporter.

Ronon caught up with him just before the transporter's doors closed. He stared suspiciously as Rodney pressed the symbol for the exit closest to his lab, and his eyes widened comically as the doors slid open to reveal an entirely different hallway. "You didn't believe me," Rodney said, amused.

Ronon responded with an especially inscrutable expression.

In the lab, Rodney went to the main console and ordered, "Show me John."

Nothing happened.

Rodney frowned and put his hand on the console, causing it to light up. "Show me John," he repeated.

Still nothing.

A ball of dread filled Rodney's stomach and he swallowed hard to get his voice under control before asking his next question: "Is John still in Atlantis?"

A single word on the screen. "Yes."

There was only one reason why John would be in Atlantis, but the computer not be able to find him, and the dread leeched from Rodney's stomach into his bloodstream. It felt like ice. It felt like fear.

"What's his last known location?" he asked hoarsely.

A map popped up with a blinking light. Rodney barely glanced at it before he ran out of the lab, Ronon close on his heels.

ooo

The body was in the rose room.

Rodney stared at the stunning reds and yellows and it struck him that he had very nearly forgotten about his roses, once the love of his life. How quickly they had been superseded by science. By John. Now, as he waded through the bushes to the blue lump of dead flesh in the center of the garden, he realized that he would never again be able to smell the spicy scent of the McKay rose without being sick. His knees felt watery as he dropped to the floor next to the corpse.

The cause of John's death was immediately obvious, though from the raised ridges of John's ribs the alien probably would have succumbed to starvation in a few more days anyway. Apparently John was too impatient to wait, however, because suicide was the only reason Rodney could imagine for the carnage before him. A pool of blood surrounded John's body, dripping down from the hole where John had attempted to cut the shell from his chest. He hadn't had the strength to break the chitin, however, so the armor had swung back against the skin, making the entire horrifying ordeal moot.

John had died with the knife still in his hand. Rodney wanted to scream.

Instead, he croaked, "Pick him up."

Ronon crouched down next to Rodney at the edge of the puddle of blood. "I'm sorry, McKay," he said, his voice more gentle than Rodney had ever heard it before. "He's dead."

"I know he's dead," Rodney said harshly. "I can fix it. Pick him up."

Ronon hesitated, but something in Rodney's face must have persuaded him, because he picked up John's body as if it weighed no more than a feather. Rodney pushed himself to his feet, feeling a hundred years old. "Okay," he said. "Follow me."

Rodney almost broke down in relief when he found the healing box exactly where he left it in the medical lab. Ordering Ronon to put John down on a table, Rodney grabbed the box and held it to the body. Closing his eyes, he focused all of his thoughts and energy into ordering the box to heal John.

Nothing happened.

"Work, damn it!" Rodney shouted, climbing onto the table to cradle John's head with one hand while holding the box tight against his chest with the other. "Heal him."

Still nothing.

Tears flowing freely down his cheeks, Rodney buried his face into John's neck. "You are not going to die," he whispered wetly. "You hear me, John? You are not going to die. You can't die, because I love you, and you can't leave me." Rodney's voice broke on a sob and he held John's body closer. "I love you, John. Please don't leave me alone."

Suddenly a blinding white light exploded from the box and washed over the entire room, burning Rodney's eyes even after he slammed his lids shut. The room grew brighter and brighter and hotter and hotter and finally Rodney's brain shut down and he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

ooo

When Rodney woke up, he was in his room. Alone.

For a brief moment he wondered if it had all been a dream, but he knew that was just wishful thinking. Besides, his eyes were still sore. Ignoring his aching muscles - it had been a long time since he had spent hours walking through the woods - Rodney rolled out of bed and forced himself upright.

He was halfway to the door when it opened, revealing a whole and healthy, if still far too thin, John. Rodney made a sound suspiciously close to a whimper and ran forward to hug John, knocking them both to the floor in his eagerness. "You're okay," he said, his voice muffled by John's chest, which was probably for the best. He didn't want to sound as shattered as he felt.

"I'm okay," John agreed, holding Rodney tightly. "I'm so sorry, Rodney. I shouldn't have doubted you."

Rodney hit John's shell, which was the only thing he could reach at this point. "No, you shouldn't have. What were you thinking?"

"I guess I wasn't," John said, and it sounded like he was smiling or crying or both.

Rodney leaned back so he could see John's face. "You should have told me about the accident," he said bluntly.

John blanched, even under his blue skin. "Rodney-"

"No," Rodney said, not wanting to hear excuses or, worse, disagreement. "You should have told me, because I am a genius, and I can fix you. I could have fixed you weeks ago."

John stared at him. "What?"

Rodney stifled a laugh, or maybe it was a sob. "With the retrovirus, I can fix you with the retrovirus. It'll take a while, I think, but it'll work. I know it will."

There was a long silence as hope and caution warred on John's face. Finally John pulled Rodney close and squeezed him tight. "I love you, Rodney McKay," he whispered. "Whatever happens next, remember that."

"I will," Rodney said, closing his eyes and willing himself to believe.

After a few moments, John leaned back. "You can really fix me?" he asked in a small voice.

Rodney nodded. "We can start now - oh, wait. Where's Ronon? He's all right, isn't he?"

"He's fine," John said, standing up and holding out a hand to help Rodney to his feet. "He carried you to your room and then I transported him back. I gave him a communicator, so you can talk with Jeannie."

Rodney's heart felt full to bursting. "I love you," he said and John flushed a deep, royal violet. Rodney smiled fondly. "You know John, you're so beautiful and I'm really going to miss your lovely blue skin. Are you sure you want me to change it?"

John glowered at him. "Rodney-" he started, his voice full of warning.

Rodney laughed. "Okay, okay. Let's go make you human."

ooo

Creating the retrovirus took only a few days, but the physical effects of the iratus DNA persisted for nearly a month after John was injected. The new, pink skin that formed under the chitin itched horribly and Rodney finally had to tie stockings over John's hand and pincher to prevent him from scratching deep enough to draw blood.

As a distraction, Rodney conscripted John's help to complete the iratus pesticide. It took longer than Rodney had anticipated, as they needed to find a formula that would kill the iratus insect, but leave all other wildlife unaffected. In the end, he turned yet again to the retrovirus, refitting it to attack only non-Earth-based DNA. There was one nasty incident where John touched something he shouldn't have and they had to resort to the healing box. After that, Rodney didn't allow John any further into the pesticide lab than the doorway, preemptively derailing all potential disasters.

The best part of the month came as they were working out a delivery system for the pesticide. It had to be applied to the entire forest, preferably from the air, and as it turned out, Atlantis had the perfect solution. Rodney was so aroused by his first exposure to the Atlantis gateships that he lay John on the floor of Gateship 1 and took him for the first time. The angles were awkward, due to the remainder of John's shell (which was loose enough to push to the side, but still attached to John's back), and the floor was hard, but the look of trust and love on John's face as he arched into Rodney's touch made up for any amount of discomfort. Their lovemaking was slow and sweet and Rodney felt a glorious pressure in his chest that surpassed even the powerful, sensuous ache in his groin. Afterwards they both shed a few tears and held each other close, sharing love and comfort, and Rodney knew that he was the happiest man in the world.

Then John took him flying and Rodney decided that he was the happiest man in the world when he wasn't five hundred feet in the air with a madman at the ship's controls.

Still, the pesticide was delivered and Rodney only threw up once and even that had a positive side as John flew much more reasonably after that and he spent the greater part of the night making Rodney feel better.

The day the shell finally came off, Rodney and John threw themselves a party. At John's suggestion, Rodney invited Jeannie, Zelenka, Teyla, and Ronon. Jeannie's first words on seeing John were, "I thought you said he was blue."

Rodney rolled his eyes and looked at a mostly-pink John apologetically. "I've been told she can be charming," he offered.

John shrugged. "I was blue." He gave Jeannie his most charming smile. "Would you like to see my shell?"

The shell was on display in the medical lab and was a tremendous success with Jeannie, Teyla, and Ronon. Zelenka would no doubt have been suitably impressed if he had been around to see it, but by that point he had already discovered one of the labs and was poking at the innards of one of the consoles in fascination. Rodney, who could completely empathize with technological passion, left him to his exploration.

Once John's shell (and chest armor, and pincher) had been sufficiently admired, everyone except Zelenka headed to the mess hall to sample a wide variety of the food synthesizer's offerings. This was where they lost Ronon, who seemed determined to try all eighty-five dishes. Twice.

Teyla got sidetracked in a room full of hideous sculpture. Rodney raised his eyebrows, as he had always thought she had better taste, but she could still impart great harm on his body with only one hand so he said nothing.

The tour of Atlantis came to an end in the rose room. Rodney would have avoided it entirely (he had unsuccessfully campaigned with John to have it burned to oblivion after John's temporary demise), but John had an inexplicable love of the place and had been adamant that Jeannie would love it as well. After a few seconds, it was obvious that John was correct. Jeannie took one look at the rose bushes and her eyes widened and grew alarmingly limpid. "Oh," she breathed. "Oh, oh, these are so beautiful."

"Rodney bred them," John said proudly, ignoring Rodney's scowl.

Jeannie turned to Rodney in disbelief. "You did?" Rodney shrugged, unable to find a suitable response in the tangle of emotions that he felt for these roses. "But when?" Jeannie asked. "How could I have not known?"

"It was in the city," Rodney said. He added, "Before you were born," because he wanted to move past this topic as quickly as possible.

"Tell her their names," John said softly.

Rodney sighed softly, but it was more relief than annoyance. He had almost forgotten that these roses had names. Pointing to an especially perfect yellow-red bloom, he said, "That's the Jeannie rose." Jeannie flushed and was uncharacteristically silent. "I named it for our mother," Rodney added. "She was the one who introduced me to roses."

"What about this?" Jeannie asked, carefully plucking a long-stemmed red rose.

Rodney breathed through his mouth, but the scent still invaded his lungs. Surprisingly, it didn't make him feel sick. "The McKay rose," he answered, his voice full of wonder. It really was a beautiful flower. He reached out and ran a fingertip down the edge of a delicate petal. "It would have made me famous," he added softly. "But I sold it so we could come to Russia."

"Are you sorry?" John asked from the edge of the garden.

Rodney looked back and smiled gently. "Not in the slightest."

ooo

Eventually Teyla tired of dreadful artwork and Ronon ate his fill. Jeannie dug up a couple of rose bushes to take back and made Rodney promise to bring more when he next visited. Zelenka had to be dragged bodily from the lab, but Rodney promised that he could come back to play whenever he wished.

"In fact," Rodney added as he shoved Radek onto the transporter platform. "John and I will be taking a trip soon. Maybe you and Jeannie could watch the castle for us."

"And me," Ronon said.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You know, they can just send you the food."

Ronon grunted happily.

"We'll work out the details later," Rodney added, before Zelenka could jump back off the platform to fiddle with the wiring underneath. "I'll contact you tomorrow." He waved his hand behind his back, signaling John, and a moment later they were alone.

"Trip?" John asked, as soon as the lights faded.

Rodney had expected that. "Sure. You look human now, and you speak English. There's no reason for you to stay confined to Atlantis anymore." He held his breath, waiting for John's response.

Thankfully, John looked thoughtful, rather than upset. "Where would we go?"

"Well," Rodney said, heading for the door with John close behind. "There's the Chicago World's Fair, which has some interesting exhibits I think you might like. Especially this one new invention." He reached out and took John's left hand, which no longer looked anything like a pincher, and which was attached to a human arm. He grinned at John. "It's called a Ferris Wheel."