SGA Fic: Nightmares
Dec. 24th, 2005 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: Nightmares
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Rodney/John preslash, I guess.
Summary: Rodney's the type of kid that won't sleep from nightmares and won't tell anyone.
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine.
Notes: I totally blame this on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seperis because she posted a kid!John wip and made me wonder why I never wrote up my kid!Rodney idea. So I did. And now I want to curl up in bed and cuddle Rodney until he falls asleep. (Also, unbeta'd.)
ETA: Now with an incredible cover bytardis80.
ETA2: And a fantastic, gleeful sequel byreccea, Find Your Way. *twirls*
Nightmares
Rodney's scowling, which is par for the course since Rodney's a sour little kid. John hadn't thought any child could be so dismissive and sarcastic, but Rodney's always blown John's assumptions out of the sky. John almost wonders why he's even surprised.
Still, Rodney's scowling at the floor, standing outside John's quarters with spindly twelve-year-old arms crossed, wearing a mismatch of Athosian hand-me-downs because none of the Atlantis uniforms were made in children's sizes.
"Rodney?" John asks and he has to smile, because sour or not, Rodney's a cute kid: all big blue eyes and hair curling across his forehead. Also, he kicked Caldwell in the shins when 'supervised custody' had been suggested, and -- while John doesn't encourage or condone that type of behaviour -- the expression on Caldwell's face was hilarious. "You waiting for me?"
"What tipped you off?" Rodney asks as he rolls his eyes. His voice is a little higher than normal, but not much. "How is it that I'm pre-pubescent and you're the one who seems to have lost IQ points? No, don't answer that."
John ruffles a hand through Rodney's curls, messing them up. He's had three weeks to discover that's the quickest way to infuriate Rodney without looking like he's picking on someone half his height. (Elizabeth, of all people, had been the one to chide him, to pull him aside and say, "John, I know it's still Rodney but physically speaking, he's a child. Maybe you could be a little kinder to him.")
The scowl becomes darker, eyebrows drawing in, eyes narrowing. "Could you not do that?" Rodney grinds between clenched teeth.
"Sure." John opens his door with a thought, and walks inside. "Come on in, Short Stuff."
That's the second most effective way to annoy Rodney: childish nicknames. Short Stuff is John's favorite, although Junior and Kiddo work just as well. Munchkin was another great one, but Rodney had managed to disable John's most beloved puddlejumper after he used it in the conference room. Which had led to Elizabeth banning Rodney from the science labs and the jumper bay, trying to tactfully point out that small errors -- caused by childish impatience, or a lack of memory or understanding -- could cost lives. (Rodney had fumed, and stomped a foot, and yelled, "That is so unfair! I do this stuff all the ti-- I mean. Um. There wasn't any permanent damage. It only took Radek a few minutes to fix it. I shouldn't be punished for a minor error. This is so unfair.")
Rodney glares at him for a moment, then sighs. "You know what? Thank you. This constant irritation? This is going to make me miss you a whole lot less."
"What?" John's turned around before the word's out of his mouth. Rodney's head is bowed, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against his leg, and for a moment, the body-language is so Rodney that John doesn't see the child-body surrounding his personality.
"Look, I--" Rodney stops and pulls a handful of computer discs from under his coarse-woven vest. "I wanted you to have this. It's Doctor Who and Star Trek and some science fiction movies grounded in actual physics. I figured that when I'm gone, you'll only have football games and bad sci-fi if I don't leave you some decent entertainment."
"Okay." Taking them, John can't help but notice the difference in size between his hand and Rodney's. John puts the discs down beside his bed, behind the photo of him and his grandmother. In that photo, he's eight with a bad bowl haircut and an unconvincing smile.
He sits on the bed and pats the space beside him. It's only after Rodney's sat down that John asks, "What's going on?"
Rodney curls in on himself like a pill bug (or a roly-poly, as Carson calls them), leaning his crossed arms on his knees. "I'd say I'm going home, but that's not really true. I mean, it's not like I can turn up on my parents' doorstep and ask them to raise me again. Not like I'd even want to. But I'm going back to Earth, on the next supply run. I've discussed it with Elizabeth and it's the best option."
"For who?" John asks, rubbing a hand up and down Rodney's back. It's strange how much easier it is to touch Rodney like this. John doesn't know if it's because Rodney allows it more as a child, or because it's more socially acceptable, or because it's safe for John (the touching has no ulterior motives, no temptation attached). Whatever it is, John doesn't see any reason to stop. Especially not when he can feel Rodney's chest shudder with each careful breath.
"Atlantis is an expedition, and it's dangerous, and it's not safe for children," Rodney recites carefully. "Physically, I can't protect myself the same way--"
"Not to burst your bubble, but you can barely protect yourself when you're an adult." John smiles and wills Rodney to look at him, to be reassured, to change his mind. "That's why I'm here."
"I've been banned from the labs. I don't have the gene anymore, and Carson won't give me the gene therapy -- says I'm too young for it to be safe -- and I can't get the city to do what I want it to do and--" Rodney presses his hands against his face, small fingers covering his closed eyes. When he speaks, he sounds like a kid describing the monster under the bed: terrified and vulnerable. "I think I'm losing my mind. Not my sanity, my actual mind. My memories, my knowledge. Possibly my IQ. I can't remember how things work or why. I look at my own theories and I don't understand them."
"That doesn't mean--"
"I can't be any use here." Rodney finally turns to John, and he's not crying; he's adamantly not crying, but his lower lip is trembling and he's blinking fast. "I can't go on missions, I can't work in the labs. I'm too short and too young to even work in the kitchens. I can't contribute in any way, and there's no room in this expedition for anyone that useless."
Rodney sets his small shoulders and stares forward, right at Johnny Cash and the guitar propped against the wall. "I can't stay in the city and I don't want to grow up as an Athosian. Could you imagine it? Living in a culture that doesn't understand calculus? No. Just… No. So I'm going back to SGC headquarters. And probably some type of foster care after that. Professionally, I'll become a hermit and in twenty years time, I'll amaze the scientific community with my stunning comeback. I'll also look really good for my age."
This is where John should laugh. He can't. The idea of Atlantis without Rodney is... the stuff of his nightmares, honestly. The ones where he became more Iratus than human and killed his team without regret. The ones where he isn't quick enough, smart enough, brave enough; the ones where he can't save them.
The idea of Atlantis-without-Rodney is wrong.
And he hates that Rodney might be right.
John wraps his arm around Rodney in a casual hug. Rodney might not need it, but John does. "You've discussed this with Elizabeth?"
"And Caldwell. And Hammond, through written messages, obviously. They've managed to keep the entire Stargate program a secret. They can cover up something as insignificant as a second childhood." Rodney leans towards him slightly, and John tightens his grip. Pulls him in until he's got a faceful of brown curls and Rodney's face pressed against his shoulder. "Which is not to say that this doesn't suck like a black hole. Leaving the city because of survival is one thing, but having to go because you're not good enough--"
Rodney sucks in a ragged breath and John knows that he's crying, so full of disappointment he's drowning in it. John doesn't say that the Dedaelus is only four days away, doesn't ask how long Rodney waited to tell him. Instead, he pulls Rodney into his lap and holds him tight, waits for the sobbing to stop.
When it does, Rodney makes no move to pull back, so John keeps his hands where they are, wrapped fast around the child-sized frame. "You want to stay here tonight?"
If Rodney had been Rodney, tall and male and utterly adult, John would never have suggested it. There's the guy thing, and the not sleeping with your subordinates/team members thing, and above all that, the thing where John trusts Rodney even when he shouldn't, and just how wrong that could all go.
But Rodney's the type of kid that won't sleep from nightmares and won't tell anyone. He's the type of kid that demands attention and information, and then insults you if you try to patronize him. He's spent the last three weeks telling everyone how adult and how capable he really is.
He deserves a night where someone else keeps the nightmares away.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Rodney/John preslash, I guess.
Summary: Rodney's the type of kid that won't sleep from nightmares and won't tell anyone.
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine.
Notes: I totally blame this on
seperis because she posted a kid!John wip and made me wonder why I never wrote up my kid!Rodney idea. So I did. And now I want to curl up in bed and cuddle Rodney until he falls asleep. (Also, unbeta'd.)ETA: Now with an incredible cover by
tardis80.ETA2: And a fantastic, gleeful sequel by
reccea, Find Your Way. *twirls*Nightmares
Rodney's scowling, which is par for the course since Rodney's a sour little kid. John hadn't thought any child could be so dismissive and sarcastic, but Rodney's always blown John's assumptions out of the sky. John almost wonders why he's even surprised.
Still, Rodney's scowling at the floor, standing outside John's quarters with spindly twelve-year-old arms crossed, wearing a mismatch of Athosian hand-me-downs because none of the Atlantis uniforms were made in children's sizes.
"Rodney?" John asks and he has to smile, because sour or not, Rodney's a cute kid: all big blue eyes and hair curling across his forehead. Also, he kicked Caldwell in the shins when 'supervised custody' had been suggested, and -- while John doesn't encourage or condone that type of behaviour -- the expression on Caldwell's face was hilarious. "You waiting for me?"
"What tipped you off?" Rodney asks as he rolls his eyes. His voice is a little higher than normal, but not much. "How is it that I'm pre-pubescent and you're the one who seems to have lost IQ points? No, don't answer that."
John ruffles a hand through Rodney's curls, messing them up. He's had three weeks to discover that's the quickest way to infuriate Rodney without looking like he's picking on someone half his height. (Elizabeth, of all people, had been the one to chide him, to pull him aside and say, "John, I know it's still Rodney but physically speaking, he's a child. Maybe you could be a little kinder to him.")
The scowl becomes darker, eyebrows drawing in, eyes narrowing. "Could you not do that?" Rodney grinds between clenched teeth.
"Sure." John opens his door with a thought, and walks inside. "Come on in, Short Stuff."
That's the second most effective way to annoy Rodney: childish nicknames. Short Stuff is John's favorite, although Junior and Kiddo work just as well. Munchkin was another great one, but Rodney had managed to disable John's most beloved puddlejumper after he used it in the conference room. Which had led to Elizabeth banning Rodney from the science labs and the jumper bay, trying to tactfully point out that small errors -- caused by childish impatience, or a lack of memory or understanding -- could cost lives. (Rodney had fumed, and stomped a foot, and yelled, "That is so unfair! I do this stuff all the ti-- I mean. Um. There wasn't any permanent damage. It only took Radek a few minutes to fix it. I shouldn't be punished for a minor error. This is so unfair.")
Rodney glares at him for a moment, then sighs. "You know what? Thank you. This constant irritation? This is going to make me miss you a whole lot less."
"What?" John's turned around before the word's out of his mouth. Rodney's head is bowed, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against his leg, and for a moment, the body-language is so Rodney that John doesn't see the child-body surrounding his personality.
"Look, I--" Rodney stops and pulls a handful of computer discs from under his coarse-woven vest. "I wanted you to have this. It's Doctor Who and Star Trek and some science fiction movies grounded in actual physics. I figured that when I'm gone, you'll only have football games and bad sci-fi if I don't leave you some decent entertainment."
"Okay." Taking them, John can't help but notice the difference in size between his hand and Rodney's. John puts the discs down beside his bed, behind the photo of him and his grandmother. In that photo, he's eight with a bad bowl haircut and an unconvincing smile.
He sits on the bed and pats the space beside him. It's only after Rodney's sat down that John asks, "What's going on?"
Rodney curls in on himself like a pill bug (or a roly-poly, as Carson calls them), leaning his crossed arms on his knees. "I'd say I'm going home, but that's not really true. I mean, it's not like I can turn up on my parents' doorstep and ask them to raise me again. Not like I'd even want to. But I'm going back to Earth, on the next supply run. I've discussed it with Elizabeth and it's the best option."
"For who?" John asks, rubbing a hand up and down Rodney's back. It's strange how much easier it is to touch Rodney like this. John doesn't know if it's because Rodney allows it more as a child, or because it's more socially acceptable, or because it's safe for John (the touching has no ulterior motives, no temptation attached). Whatever it is, John doesn't see any reason to stop. Especially not when he can feel Rodney's chest shudder with each careful breath.
"Atlantis is an expedition, and it's dangerous, and it's not safe for children," Rodney recites carefully. "Physically, I can't protect myself the same way--"
"Not to burst your bubble, but you can barely protect yourself when you're an adult." John smiles and wills Rodney to look at him, to be reassured, to change his mind. "That's why I'm here."
"I've been banned from the labs. I don't have the gene anymore, and Carson won't give me the gene therapy -- says I'm too young for it to be safe -- and I can't get the city to do what I want it to do and--" Rodney presses his hands against his face, small fingers covering his closed eyes. When he speaks, he sounds like a kid describing the monster under the bed: terrified and vulnerable. "I think I'm losing my mind. Not my sanity, my actual mind. My memories, my knowledge. Possibly my IQ. I can't remember how things work or why. I look at my own theories and I don't understand them."
"That doesn't mean--"
"I can't be any use here." Rodney finally turns to John, and he's not crying; he's adamantly not crying, but his lower lip is trembling and he's blinking fast. "I can't go on missions, I can't work in the labs. I'm too short and too young to even work in the kitchens. I can't contribute in any way, and there's no room in this expedition for anyone that useless."
Rodney sets his small shoulders and stares forward, right at Johnny Cash and the guitar propped against the wall. "I can't stay in the city and I don't want to grow up as an Athosian. Could you imagine it? Living in a culture that doesn't understand calculus? No. Just… No. So I'm going back to SGC headquarters. And probably some type of foster care after that. Professionally, I'll become a hermit and in twenty years time, I'll amaze the scientific community with my stunning comeback. I'll also look really good for my age."
This is where John should laugh. He can't. The idea of Atlantis without Rodney is... the stuff of his nightmares, honestly. The ones where he became more Iratus than human and killed his team without regret. The ones where he isn't quick enough, smart enough, brave enough; the ones where he can't save them.
The idea of Atlantis-without-Rodney is wrong.
And he hates that Rodney might be right.
John wraps his arm around Rodney in a casual hug. Rodney might not need it, but John does. "You've discussed this with Elizabeth?"
"And Caldwell. And Hammond, through written messages, obviously. They've managed to keep the entire Stargate program a secret. They can cover up something as insignificant as a second childhood." Rodney leans towards him slightly, and John tightens his grip. Pulls him in until he's got a faceful of brown curls and Rodney's face pressed against his shoulder. "Which is not to say that this doesn't suck like a black hole. Leaving the city because of survival is one thing, but having to go because you're not good enough--"
Rodney sucks in a ragged breath and John knows that he's crying, so full of disappointment he's drowning in it. John doesn't say that the Dedaelus is only four days away, doesn't ask how long Rodney waited to tell him. Instead, he pulls Rodney into his lap and holds him tight, waits for the sobbing to stop.
When it does, Rodney makes no move to pull back, so John keeps his hands where they are, wrapped fast around the child-sized frame. "You want to stay here tonight?"
If Rodney had been Rodney, tall and male and utterly adult, John would never have suggested it. There's the guy thing, and the not sleeping with your subordinates/team members thing, and above all that, the thing where John trusts Rodney even when he shouldn't, and just how wrong that could all go.
But Rodney's the type of kid that won't sleep from nightmares and won't tell anyone. He's the type of kid that demands attention and information, and then insults you if you try to patronize him. He's spent the last three weeks telling everyone how adult and how capable he really is.
He deserves a night where someone else keeps the nightmares away.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 12:58 pm (UTC)Poor Rodney!
I loved this!
(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-24 02:11 pm (UTC)I bet both of them had really crappy childhoods, in different ways... no wonder John gets it. Gah. *wants to hug both of them*
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 03:08 pm (UTC)to John.(yes, that was one sentence, but that's totally how I see 12 year old Rodney trying to get the words out.)
(no subject)
From:feedback
Date: 2005-12-24 04:39 pm (UTC)Re: feedback
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 05:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-24 06:07 pm (UTC)And the worst part is that you're totally right, it feels completed, but at the same time I really, really don't want you to end it there, because sad! sad! sad!
I don't know. I'd like you to write more, because I want Rodney back in Atlantis (and because I want to see that exchange with Caldwell). If you don't, though...well, I'll just chose to believe that Rodney, returned to earth, did exactly what he said he'd do, secluding himself and studying like hell until it all made sense again, working himself harder than anyone, and he kind of scares the people at the SGC, but, on the other hand, he always has, so it's not that different, really, it's not (except for the ways it is). And it works, he gets it--given the opportunity, he picks it all up faster than he has any right to, and so eventually he goes back, back to Atlantis, because they need him, and, even more, because he needs them.
Or you could write it, and do it better, and I would be a happy clam. wink wink nudge nudge.
(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-26 04:20 am (UTC)You know, if he were changed into a kid in season one, it might still...
But yes, I was waiting for this, thanks for makign it worth the wait.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 09:39 am (UTC)oh, RODNEY. i imagine rodney having—not a *bad* childhood necessarily, but he was always the most brilliant person in the room, and his family life—probably wasn't *bad*, but basically i think he was the kind of kid who knew things were going to be better when he was older and was always straining for that day. to be thrown back to twelve years old and helpless, to LOSE what he worked so hard to learn and achieve, has got to be devastating. he's such a strong little boy here, and who can say whether that's a remnant of the adult he grew into, or the bravery he always had. crying his eyes out in john's lap is simultaneously the cutest thing EVER and, you know, gut-wrenching.
as much as i pine for a happy ending to this, it brings up something the show tends to hint at but never explore (and sometimes i suspect even the hints are pure accidents), namely the tragedies inherent in and made possible by the technology they're exploring. i wouldn't *want* to see it in every fic (see above re: gut-wrenching), but it's such a good and haunting example of what can go wrong, how *much* it can go wrong. this is the doppelganger of light-hearted genderswappery, where the effects are permanent, the consequences are debilitating, and the end result is a twelve-year-old sobbing while his heart breaks, john losing his best friend to a one-way trip on the daedalus, and an atlantis without rodney mckay.
(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-26 10:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-27 12:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 12:42 am (UTC)I love this.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 02:03 am (UTC)And now I'm thinking about grown-up Rodney's back. AHH! DAMN YOU HEWLETT. *ahem*
I'm glad you're over here now! Are you still doing Sports Night?
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 04:28 am (UTC)I really couldn't imagine Atlantis without Rodney :( Is there going to be any more to this?
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 06:08 am (UTC)and because i am such a fangirl, i made some art for your story (i hope you don't mind):
an icon:
thanks!
(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-27 11:06 am (UTC)Part of me want to beg for more, but it's perfect as it is. *sniffles*
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Date: 2005-12-27 10:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-28 01:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-28 03:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-28 04:56 am (UTC)This is haunting and sad. I can't imagine what kind of crisis this must be for Rodney, because I think he depends almost entirely on his intelligence to prove himself, and the current situation with him being 'useless' to the expedition must be KILLING him. Hell, it's killing me.
This story broke my heart, but I have to admit, it does feel complete in its desperation.
(This doesn't prevent me from having pervy thoughts about young!Rodney and John).
(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-28 05:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-28 05:39 am (UTC)But this would not be the first time the SGC has had to cope with 'kiddies', what with Janet having adopted Cassandra (still miss Janet), and a Jack-clone wandering through highschool for the second time.
So I can just imagine Sam becoming a sort of guardian/mentor for the 'baby' Rodney, making sure he gets raised 'right' this time - her way!!! Those two would be lethal, and the SGC might not ever recover.
(no subject)
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Date: 2005-12-28 06:10 am (UTC)I love both John and Rodney in this so very much. Its sweet. It's cute. Very cool.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-28 06:27 am (UTC)I'm having visions of them giving child-Rodney to clone-Jack to raise, though.... They're some pretty funny visions.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-28 09:52 am (UTC)Great job!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2005-12-28 06:34 pm (UTC)OMG!! This is so heartbreaking!! I about cried when I read that line!! Thank you so much for sharing this and please write more! I'm gonna go comfort myself by cuddling chibi-Rodney...
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