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Characters: Mckay, Carter, Sheppard
Summary: John needs a new bed, and McKay is going to make it happen.
Warnings: Not a deathfic.
A/N: I initially wrote this for the Flashfic death challenge, as well as in response to the fact that Sheppard really does need a bed that actually fits him, but for some reason I never got around to posting it. It's been sitting in my laptop since, so decided to just to post it here.
Dr. McKay is Dead
or
Getting a New Bed for John
“Sheppard needs a new bed.”
Sam looked up from her laptop and her half-finished letter to Jack at Rodney standing professionally rigid on the other side of her desk. It wasn't so much the request as the haughty expression of “this is a brilliant idea and I will not stand to hear otherwise” on McKay's face that took her by surprise. The look of a man who can defend his thesis argument with a flick of his wrist and a scowl, comfortable in the assumption that he had already won... and he was asking for a bed.
Carter blinked. “Um... what?”
McKay exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “Bed, Sheppard needs a new bed. One that fits him. I mean, seriously, have you seen his bed? It's not even a bed, more like a glorified bench. Or a couch without a back. I don't see how it's possible for the man to roll over without falling off, and his feet hang over the end. Tell me that won't cause some sort of long-term detriment to his legs. Really, I'm surprised he hasn't developed Rickets. And that mattress? Good gosh, it's a miracle he doesn't have back problems. I sit on the stupid thing for ten minutes and can't feel my tail-bone, so no way is it doing any favors for his spine. And Sheppard's going to be spending two weeks in that bed when he's released? Why not just let him sleep on the floor. It would probably be more comfortable.”
Sam stared at him. The entire time he talked, her mind kept trying to replace “Sheppard” and “him” with “me” and “I,” which wasn't exactly fair to Rodney. It was just... more him to get irate over a mattress if it was his mattress making him irate.
“Uh, well...” she stammered, “what do you suggest? It's a little too late to fill out any more requisition forms.”
McKay folded his arms, professionalism withering into mild annoyance. “I know that. I was thinking more along the lines of scavenging from one of the guest rooms. It's not like we use them on a daily bases. And, really, do we need five? I believe guests have been few and far between enough to make do with four.”
“And Col. Sheppard didn't take one of those bed because...?”
“Because the man has no concept of what it means to really self-indulge. He just picked his quarters and went with whatever happened to be in there. It must be a military thing, frowning on the use of twin-sized beds. It's why you can stand at attention so long, your spines have fused. Sheppard's whole body is going fuse if he doesn't have something better to lie on.”
Sam was sure Rodney was just overreacting. Still, she had dropped by Sheppard's room one or twice to ask a few questions, so had seen the bed. She couldn't imagine spending two weeks in that bed, unable to move without help, all thanks to the natives of a heavy gravity world that took no consideration for height and body weight when it came to administering their “truth serum”. Attempting to establish trust could be deadlier than causing offense. The serum induced aches, pains, and temporary lethargy in the Gavaraans, who were all taller than Ronon and built like professional wrestlers. The amount given to the smaller, leaner Sheppard had caused aches, pains, vomiting, muscle deterioration, immune deficiency and nearly stopped his heart. And “just say no” had been impossible. The chieftain had slipped the stuff into John's drink to better ascertain the honesty of the team's leader. If you can't trust the leader, who can you trust?
When plans backfire, they backfire spectacularly. It was going to be a while before Sheppard had muscle control back. He was just lucky to be alive. So were the Gavaraans because Ronon had been too busy carrying Sheppard to the gate to kill them.
“Fine,” Sam said. “You can get him a better bed from one of the guest rooms.”
The professionalism returned. “Thank you.” Then McKay left.
Sam shook her head. It wasn't exactly a surprise that Rodney had undergone an attitude adjustment that had taken him beyond the self, and yet it was. A surprise each time she got to witness it since her own perceptions were still stuck in the dark ages of McKay having been so willing to give Teal'c up for dead.
The thing about change was that people could change, because when dropped into the right conditions, change was inevitable. You don't get pulled from the safe solitude of a lab and thrust into the group-effort of a team without it taking you apart and putting you back together into something else. Camaraderie, even the reluctant kind, was unavoidable. Sam had come to Pegasus expecting a different Rodney McKay, and a different McKay she got. She was continually amused by it.
On the other hand, some things stayed the same, and Sam felt it in the best interest of McKay's safety to keep an eye on how he handled getting a bed from point A to point B.
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“Will you be careful! Bend the mattress any further and you're going to defeat the whole purpose of why we're doing this. He's your CO, I would think you would have a little more respect for his stuff.”
Hauling a bed-frame then mattress from point A to B meant a little redecorating, which Sam wasn't too sure about after Rodney made it known that Sheppard had no idea what they were doing. A path had to be cleared to bring the bed in, then room made so people could move around. Rodney talked about having Sheppard's stuff relocated to new quarters, but even he had consideration enough to figure that Sheppard would be less than pleased about it. The Lt. Colonel had picked quarters closest to the gate-room for a reason.
Carter wasn't sure if it was because of her presence that the two marines carrying the mattress exchanged looks rather than a vicious rebuttal, or if they'd come to realize that there was no point to it. They hefted the mattress to the bed, then dumped it into the frame, nudging and shoving until it fit. Rodney looked the work over before dismissing the two with an idle wave of his hand.
“Yes, yes, good job. You can go, now.”
Another exchanged look, then the two men left.
McKay was a meticulous task-master. He had Sam make the bed since she “insisted” on hovering, telling her the best way to tuck in the sheets and which blanket went on the bottom and which on the top. He kept having Ronon move the desk, then chair, then dresser a little to the right then left. Teyla, handling the smaller stuff, took five tries before McKay was happy about where what was placed.
Katie Brown arrived with a potted fern that smelled like mint in hand just as they were finishing up. “I thought the Colonel might like this. It yields a higher production of oxygen and some people swear it does wonders for congestion.”
Rodney perked, smitten, though Sam couldn't decide if it was over the idea or over Katie. Completely skipping long-winded speeches about possible allergens, he had Katie set the plant on the corner of the dresser where it would get plenty of light. It was utterly adorable, his total lack of lust and self-righteous innuendos about the logic of propagating a progeny of geniuses. Adorable and regrettable, untainted by the bravado, self-certainty and self-delusion that had made Rodney so easy to dislike on first meeting him. Sam wished she had seen this openness sooner, because she had honestly believed that what she had first seen was what she got, and that Rodney was the same no matter who he was around.
Sam liked this Rodney better, and admired Katie for bringing it out.
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It was with a lot of reluctance, and only out of necessity, that Sam walked into Rodney's room when he didn't answer the door. She was used to finding him in the labs, but since he hadn't been there, or the mess, or the infirmary, that had left his quarters.
She was a little taken back by the tank of turtles on a stand in the corner. Animals that could be kept in a cage or tank weren't restricted, it just seemed an odd pet-choice. Maybe it was biased, but turtles felt like more of a biology thing, zoology, even medical. Sam would have thought McKay to go for something fuzzier, such as a guinea pig since cats were out of the question (although she didn't really see him as a guinea pig type of guy, either.)
He did have a picture of his cat, though, right next to a picture of him and Dr. Beckett, which was next to a picture of him and the rest of his team at lunch, next to a photo of Katie. More pictures lined the dresser: Him, his team, him and Dr. Zelenka, and one of Dr. Weir. He wasn't smiling in any of them, but he at least came off as content.
“Carter!”
Sam whirled around in time to see Rodney stumbling back, clutching the top of his robe closed. By his moist hair, it was safe to assume he'd just gotten out of the shower.
He slowly started backing toward the bathroom, looking slack-jawed and scandalized. “What are you doing here?”
Carter winced. “You didn't answer your com and we couldn't find you anywhere. Keller wanted everyone to know that she feels Sheppard has improved enough for an early release.”
Rodney paused. “Isn't it a little soon?”
Sam shrugged. “Today, tomorrow. Is there much of a difference?”
McKay pondered this a moment before shrugging back. “I suppose not. Tell them to hold up for a moment, I shouldn't be long.”
Carter nodded and left him to it.
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“Maybe we should just tie strings to all his limbs. It would probably be easier. Ronon can be the puppeteer.”
“And pull the right strings for me to literally kick your ass,” John rasped. Muscle deterioration leading to a decrease in muscle mass made Sheppard smaller, bone-angled and light enough for a child to carry. It took only Ronon to move him from the bed to the wheel-chair, keeping a hand on the Colonel's chest so that he stayed upright.
McKay snapped his fingers. “Oh! We could design a harness for Ronon to carry you around on his back.” He gave Sheppard a simpering grin. “Like a widdle papoose.”
“Ronon, your weapon set to stun?”
“Must you be so negative when leaving the infirmary?”
Sheppard turned his wobbly head on his weak neck. “Must you be such a pain in the ass?”
“Boys” Keller chastised. “Behave. Dr. McKay, stop agitating my patient.”
John grinned triumphantly.
Ronon let Teyla hold Sheppard in place as he pushed the chair down the hall, with Rodney on one side, Sam on the other, and Keller leading the way. The second they walked into Sheppard's quarters, his eyebrows shot straight to his hairline.
“I don't remember putting in a request for a new bed.”
“You didn't,” Rodney replied, moving ahead to turn the covers down and arrange the pillows. Ronon lifted John easily to place him upright on the mattress, McKay arranging more pillows to help keep him upright. “You've got room to toss, turn, set trays aside and,” he tilted his head toward Sheppard's feet, “I think your legs will appreciate the length.” He covered John up to the waist with the blankets.
“Nice mattress,” John said. “Where'd you get it?”
“One of the guest rooms,” Rodney said.
“The one Lucius stayed in?”
“Oh hell no.”
Sheppard looked the bed over, pressing a shaky hand into the mattress. “I assume this was your idea, McKay?”
Rodney clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels and grinning smugly. “Of course.”
John looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks.”
The resultant return smile that lit up Rodney's face was so genuine and innocent that Carter couldn't help but be astonished by it. Here was pride over a job well done that had nothing to do with formulas, proofs, and being proven right. If Sam didn't know any better, she could have sworn this was the proudest moment of McKay's life. Not his only proudest moment, just one of many, one that had absolutely nothing to do with science or himself.
Change had been inevitable. That didn't make it any less interesting to witness.
McKay interrupted the happy moment with the suggestion of watching movies now that there was room enough on the bed for all three of them to sit, without the risk of crushing John. He was already heading for the laptop on the desk.
Carter left them to it.
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Sam sat down at her laptop and opened her unfinished letter to Jack. In the chaos of moving a bed from one room to the other, then Sheppard from one room to the other, she'd almost forgotten about it. Not that she had much more to write.
Carter typed.
Some days I miss the team.
P.S. Oh, by the way, the Rodney McKay we knew is dead. Or maybe he just ascended and came back as something else. I doubt you'd recognize him.
R.I.P Dr. Rodney McKay.
The End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2008-01-04 03:36 am (UTC)From:Love how this was done by Rodney but through Carter's eyes. She is one of the few who is most qualified to see the changes in a more obvious way.
As always, great banter between the boys! Loved the "Kick your ass" line!
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Date: 2008-01-11 06:54 am (UTC)From:Thatwas part of what inspired the story, because it was inevitable that Carter wuold have seen a change in McKay, and I wanted to explore the idea.
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Date: 2008-01-04 03:50 am (UTC)From:*claps* :)
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Date: 2008-01-11 06:55 am (UTC)From:no subject
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Date: 2008-01-04 04:18 am (UTC)From:Cute title...very eye catching! lol
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Date: 2008-01-04 04:35 am (UTC)From:(no subject)
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Date: 2008-01-04 04:35 am (UTC)From:Thanks for posting!
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Date: 2008-01-04 04:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 05:28 am (UTC)From:Thanks for a very interesting read! :)
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Date: 2008-01-04 08:53 am (UTC)From:Much enjoyed, thanks.
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Date: 2008-01-04 11:21 pm (UTC)From:I think part of the reason why I was hesitant in posting this was because, at first, it felt a little like fluffy silliness that McKay would make a big deal over someone else's bed. But, after a while, I came to realize that is totally something Rodney would do.
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Date: 2008-01-04 09:53 am (UTC)From:no subject
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Date: 2008-01-04 04:29 pm (UTC)From:Thanks for another wonderful fic. My mom just got put in the hospital last night/early this morning, and this was just what I needed this morning to give me something to smile about :)
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Date: 2008-01-04 11:29 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 04:53 pm (UTC)From:Hehehe!! I wonder how many others would like to shoot McKay?!! With a stunner, of course!!!
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Date: 2008-01-04 11:31 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 06:22 pm (UTC)From:And thanks for seeing the good in Katie. I like her, but apparently I'm in the minority.
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Date: 2008-01-04 11:33 pm (UTC)From:no subject
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Date: 2008-01-08 12:56 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)Stargate Groupie
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Date: 2008-01-09 01:35 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-08 11:46 pm (UTC)From:Well done as always!
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Date: 2008-01-09 01:40 am (UTC)From:I think Sheppard is a very "be prepared" kind of guy, so probably has at least his tennis shoes waiting by the bed. He probably just slips into them without putting on socks (either that or he wears though small socks. His ankles are always bare.)
Yeah, I would like to see him waking up in that bed. He'd probably be all stiff.
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Date: 2008-01-13 03:07 am (UTC)From:- Helen
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Date: 2008-01-22 05:08 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 01:25 am (UTC)From:Anyways, great story! I was just rewatching Doppleganger and noticing the length of the bed (which is what inspired the reread). It is way too short!
(PS, those are Carson's turtles, right? Cause if so, so much squee!)
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Date: 2008-10-22 03:50 am (UTC)From:But enough complaining. So glad you enjoyed :D Yeah, Sheppard's bed made up part of the inspiration for this story. Poor guy. a man his height shouldn't be suffering a bed that short and narrow. I'm pretty dang tall myself, so know that a lot of room is needed for a good night's sleep without back/leg-kinks in the morning.
Yep, those are Carson's turtles :D
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Date: 2009-02-08 03:25 pm (UTC)From: