fic: Truer Words
Aug. 7th, 2008 10:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rubberbuttonTitle: Truer Words
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, McShep
Words: 1800
Rating: PG
Summary: Rodney tangles with a truth serum. Un-betaed -- if you see something, shout it out.
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, McShep
Words: 1800
Rating: PG
Summary: Rodney tangles with a truth serum. Un-betaed -- if you see something, shout it out.
“John,” Teyla said, placing a hand on his forearm.
“How is he? He going to be okay?” John asked. “I mean, as okay as he ever is?”
Teyla’s smile was grim. “There is good news and there is bad news. Dr. McKay has awoken and is in good physical condition.”
“Okay. I'm guessing that's the good news.” The knot in his stomach eased for the first time since Rodney had opened a crate they'd found on M9X – 753, been enveloped in a cloud of thick blue dust, and passed out cold.
“The drug has affected his ability to censor speech. He says whatever he thinks as he thinks it -- whether he wants to or not.”
“That’s the bad news? Are you sure that’s the drug? Because I don't know if you've noticed, but he's never been what you'd call real tactful ...” Teyla’s severe expression didn't change as John trailed off. “How long does this ... effect last?” John rubbed the back of his neck, working at sore muscles.
“Without knowing the exact amount he inhaled, the doctors cannot say. Hours, possibly longer.”
“Fantastic,” he sighed.
“Dr. Keller thinks it was used as a sort of truth drug during interrogations.”
“Really? That's kind of cool; it'd be convenient if we could do the same. I've always wondered --”
“John,” she cut him off gently, but firmly. “I was hoping that you might speak with Rodney. He is in considerable emotional distress. I have done my best to reassure him, but I’m afraid he finds my advice patronizing.” Her voice was pained, and John doubted that Rodney had put his objections so gently.
“Yeah. Well, I could,” John allowed, “but you know me -- I’m not so good with the whole counseling thing. If you need me to yell at him, maybe bark some orders? That I could do.”
Teyla’s frown deepened. “You should take this more seriously. Rodney may talk a great deal, but he is a very very private man at heart. Such unintended intimacy is extremely difficult for him. We all think things that we would rather not say aloud, after all.” She looked like she was thinking some rather choice things about John’s attitude right now.
“All right, all right,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll talk to him.”
---
One of the med techs intercepted him as he made his way into the infirmary.
“I’m sorry, but Dr. McKay requested that no one be allowed to see him.” She was practically wringing her hands in regret.
“He’s a member of my team, and I need to see him.”
“He, uh, doesn’t want to see you specifically,” the tech said in consternation. Rodney must have really done a number on her.
“Well, that’s just tough. He doesn’t get a say.”
“He was extremely --”
“Don’t worry,” John said over his shoulder as he pushed past her. “I can handle him.”
It took John a moment to find Rodney; at first glance the room seemed empty. But at the end of the long row of beds two had been pushed closer together, the pale blue sheets stretched from one across to the other. It had been nearly three decades since he’d built one, but John immediately recognized it as a blanket fort.
He approached cautiously. “Hey, Rodney,” he addressed the sheets. There was shifting and the blue cotton rippled.
“Go away.”
Rodney’s voice was reassuringly Rodney-like, even if the fort was not.
“Aw, now don’t be like that.” John came to the foot of the first bed and dropped into a crouch, lifting a corner of the hanging sheet. Rodney sat in the middle of a nest of pilfered blankets, a pillow clutched to his chest. He flinched as John crawled in and sat across from him in the cramped space.
“Nice fort you got here,” John observed. The muted light filtering through the sheets gave Rodney's face a blue cast.
“You know, I built them all the time as a kid. I didn’t have any friends, and Jeannie was too young to be of any sort of use. But I didn’t need any friends in my command centers -- that’s how I thought of them. Or space ships, sometimes. I was on my own, I was cool, I didn’t need anyone else. Just me in my little corner. Like Cinderella, but with less singing.” Rodney spoke even faster than usual, if that was possible.
“I thought you were claustrophobic?”
“Oh, I am, terribly, but that wasn’t until grade seven when Ronald Reintjes locked me in the closet of the chemistry lab for a whole weekend. The custodian actually found me after four hours, but I had thought I was going to be there all weekend and had already had a panic attack and eaten my gym socks.” He stopped long enough to take a breath. “Dammit. Quit asking me personal questions. You ask me a question and then I think of the answer -- and then I have to say it whether I want to or not. Teyla did explain to you how this works, right?”
“Right, sorry.” John cast about for a neutral question to distract Rodney. “So, um, do you think this truth serum could be useful in interrogations?”
“Very possibly -- although it’s not a serum, it’s a powder -- and there are some serious design flaws, besides the obvious, I mean. For example, the truth is whatever the subject perceives it to be. So people can only tell us what they think the truth is. And we all know how moronic most of the population is. Plus, there’s no way to guarantee it will affect everyone the same, or that it affects the Wraith at all. Symptoms could vary wildly; it would require extensive testing. And, believe me, you will not have volunteers lining up to try this one. This is hell.” Rodney glanced over at him and quickly turned his attention back to his own thumbnail. “It would be so much better if you would just go.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No,” Rodney blurted and then slapped a hand over his mouth in a way that would have been funny, if he hadn’t looked so absolutely miserable.
“Kind of sending mixed signals here, Rodney.”
Rodney removed his hand long enough to say, “That it would be better if you go doesn’t necessarily mean I don't want you to stay,” and covered his mouth again.
“Look,” John started. “Teyla thinks I should talk to you, and I’m way more scared of her than of you, so it looks like you’re stuck -- no matter what you want or don't want or want but don't want to want. Whatever.” He shifted uncomfortably; there really wasn't enough room in here for two people. It was too warm in here with the both of them in such close proximity. “You’re under the influence, you can’t be held responsible. Think of it as a get out of jail free card. I won’t hold it against you and I won’t tell anyone else so they can’t hold it against you.” He raised three fingers in a salute. “Scout's honor.”
Rodney nodded, but didn’t look reassured. He still clutched the pillow, and had begun to rock slightly.
“I’ve seen you in a lot of compromising positions, Rodney. This can’t be the worst.”
“Shows what you know,” Rodney burst out, finally unable to stem the flow of words. “You know how they say the truth will set you free? Ironically, that isn’t true. The truth? The truth is a trap ... and once it’s out there there’s nothing you can do; you’re stuck with it.” Rodney looked over at John helplessly. “You have really beautiful eyes. The hair? The hair is quirky on a good day, but no one can deny the eyes.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Sorry.” Rodney buried his face in the pillow.
“So, Rodney --” John began, but Rodney cut him off.
“Please don’t ask me anything you might regret later. That I might regret later. I realize that this is a joke to you -- of course it is, what a great opportunity to hassle Rodney. Bring the kids; it's fun for the whole family!” John was close enough to see Rodney's knuckles go white as his grip tightened. “And I know that when I tell you there are things you don’t want to know -- friendship-ruining things -- you won’t believe me or you won't care. Possibly both. I have never been more vulnerable. Please. Please, don’t take advantage of that.”
John opened his mouth, shut it again and swallowed. “Okay.”
Rodney looked relieved. And he kept on looking relieved right up until the moment John kissed him.
It wasn’t all that spectacular as kisses went. They were both sitting cross-legged and John had to lean way over just to reach Rodney. When he gripped the front of Rodney’s jacket, it was more to keep from capsizing than from passion. He held it just long enough to make it clear that it wasn't an accident and released Rodney.
“Good god. What was that?” Rodney sputtered, putting his fingers to his lips, checking that they were still there and in working order.
John shrugged. “Well, you’re in love with me. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”
“I ...” Rodney trailed off, speechless
“What else was I suppose to do? You were going on and on about how you didn't want to get hurt.”
“I did not say that!” Rodney was outraged, his ears pinking. “And you kissed me.”
“You’d never forgive me if I asked in your vulnerable state, and if I asked when you weren't under the effects of alien truth serum, you’d lie.”
“Well ... yes,” Rodney reluctantly agreed.
“So I kissed you. Seemed easiest.” John waved in a vague so-here-we-are gesture.
“You could have said something.”
“Why would I say something if you're not going to say something?”
“I didn't know. And if I'd had even the smallest inkling that my doomed love wasn't so doomed, I would have said something. Well. Probably.” Rodney shook himself and re-engaged. “But you did know and still didn't say anything. Clearly you are the bigger jerk.”
“Rodney. I didn't know either. Not until you started going on about my eyes.”
“They really are nice,” Rodney protested. “I could have just been making an observation.
“Sure.” John swallowed and licked his lips. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Technically, you just did. But, all right, you can ask me another.”
“Want me to do it again?’
“Oh god, yes.”
“How is he? He going to be okay?” John asked. “I mean, as okay as he ever is?”
Teyla’s smile was grim. “There is good news and there is bad news. Dr. McKay has awoken and is in good physical condition.”
“Okay. I'm guessing that's the good news.” The knot in his stomach eased for the first time since Rodney had opened a crate they'd found on M9X – 753, been enveloped in a cloud of thick blue dust, and passed out cold.
“The drug has affected his ability to censor speech. He says whatever he thinks as he thinks it -- whether he wants to or not.”
“That’s the bad news? Are you sure that’s the drug? Because I don't know if you've noticed, but he's never been what you'd call real tactful ...” Teyla’s severe expression didn't change as John trailed off. “How long does this ... effect last?” John rubbed the back of his neck, working at sore muscles.
“Without knowing the exact amount he inhaled, the doctors cannot say. Hours, possibly longer.”
“Fantastic,” he sighed.
“Dr. Keller thinks it was used as a sort of truth drug during interrogations.”
“Really? That's kind of cool; it'd be convenient if we could do the same. I've always wondered --”
“John,” she cut him off gently, but firmly. “I was hoping that you might speak with Rodney. He is in considerable emotional distress. I have done my best to reassure him, but I’m afraid he finds my advice patronizing.” Her voice was pained, and John doubted that Rodney had put his objections so gently.
“Yeah. Well, I could,” John allowed, “but you know me -- I’m not so good with the whole counseling thing. If you need me to yell at him, maybe bark some orders? That I could do.”
Teyla’s frown deepened. “You should take this more seriously. Rodney may talk a great deal, but he is a very very private man at heart. Such unintended intimacy is extremely difficult for him. We all think things that we would rather not say aloud, after all.” She looked like she was thinking some rather choice things about John’s attitude right now.
“All right, all right,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll talk to him.”
---
One of the med techs intercepted him as he made his way into the infirmary.
“I’m sorry, but Dr. McKay requested that no one be allowed to see him.” She was practically wringing her hands in regret.
“He’s a member of my team, and I need to see him.”
“He, uh, doesn’t want to see you specifically,” the tech said in consternation. Rodney must have really done a number on her.
“Well, that’s just tough. He doesn’t get a say.”
“He was extremely --”
“Don’t worry,” John said over his shoulder as he pushed past her. “I can handle him.”
It took John a moment to find Rodney; at first glance the room seemed empty. But at the end of the long row of beds two had been pushed closer together, the pale blue sheets stretched from one across to the other. It had been nearly three decades since he’d built one, but John immediately recognized it as a blanket fort.
He approached cautiously. “Hey, Rodney,” he addressed the sheets. There was shifting and the blue cotton rippled.
“Go away.”
Rodney’s voice was reassuringly Rodney-like, even if the fort was not.
“Aw, now don’t be like that.” John came to the foot of the first bed and dropped into a crouch, lifting a corner of the hanging sheet. Rodney sat in the middle of a nest of pilfered blankets, a pillow clutched to his chest. He flinched as John crawled in and sat across from him in the cramped space.
“Nice fort you got here,” John observed. The muted light filtering through the sheets gave Rodney's face a blue cast.
“You know, I built them all the time as a kid. I didn’t have any friends, and Jeannie was too young to be of any sort of use. But I didn’t need any friends in my command centers -- that’s how I thought of them. Or space ships, sometimes. I was on my own, I was cool, I didn’t need anyone else. Just me in my little corner. Like Cinderella, but with less singing.” Rodney spoke even faster than usual, if that was possible.
“I thought you were claustrophobic?”
“Oh, I am, terribly, but that wasn’t until grade seven when Ronald Reintjes locked me in the closet of the chemistry lab for a whole weekend. The custodian actually found me after four hours, but I had thought I was going to be there all weekend and had already had a panic attack and eaten my gym socks.” He stopped long enough to take a breath. “Dammit. Quit asking me personal questions. You ask me a question and then I think of the answer -- and then I have to say it whether I want to or not. Teyla did explain to you how this works, right?”
“Right, sorry.” John cast about for a neutral question to distract Rodney. “So, um, do you think this truth serum could be useful in interrogations?”
“Very possibly -- although it’s not a serum, it’s a powder -- and there are some serious design flaws, besides the obvious, I mean. For example, the truth is whatever the subject perceives it to be. So people can only tell us what they think the truth is. And we all know how moronic most of the population is. Plus, there’s no way to guarantee it will affect everyone the same, or that it affects the Wraith at all. Symptoms could vary wildly; it would require extensive testing. And, believe me, you will not have volunteers lining up to try this one. This is hell.” Rodney glanced over at him and quickly turned his attention back to his own thumbnail. “It would be so much better if you would just go.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No,” Rodney blurted and then slapped a hand over his mouth in a way that would have been funny, if he hadn’t looked so absolutely miserable.
“Kind of sending mixed signals here, Rodney.”
Rodney removed his hand long enough to say, “That it would be better if you go doesn’t necessarily mean I don't want you to stay,” and covered his mouth again.
“Look,” John started. “Teyla thinks I should talk to you, and I’m way more scared of her than of you, so it looks like you’re stuck -- no matter what you want or don't want or want but don't want to want. Whatever.” He shifted uncomfortably; there really wasn't enough room in here for two people. It was too warm in here with the both of them in such close proximity. “You’re under the influence, you can’t be held responsible. Think of it as a get out of jail free card. I won’t hold it against you and I won’t tell anyone else so they can’t hold it against you.” He raised three fingers in a salute. “Scout's honor.”
Rodney nodded, but didn’t look reassured. He still clutched the pillow, and had begun to rock slightly.
“I’ve seen you in a lot of compromising positions, Rodney. This can’t be the worst.”
“Shows what you know,” Rodney burst out, finally unable to stem the flow of words. “You know how they say the truth will set you free? Ironically, that isn’t true. The truth? The truth is a trap ... and once it’s out there there’s nothing you can do; you’re stuck with it.” Rodney looked over at John helplessly. “You have really beautiful eyes. The hair? The hair is quirky on a good day, but no one can deny the eyes.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Sorry.” Rodney buried his face in the pillow.
“So, Rodney --” John began, but Rodney cut him off.
“Please don’t ask me anything you might regret later. That I might regret later. I realize that this is a joke to you -- of course it is, what a great opportunity to hassle Rodney. Bring the kids; it's fun for the whole family!” John was close enough to see Rodney's knuckles go white as his grip tightened. “And I know that when I tell you there are things you don’t want to know -- friendship-ruining things -- you won’t believe me or you won't care. Possibly both. I have never been more vulnerable. Please. Please, don’t take advantage of that.”
John opened his mouth, shut it again and swallowed. “Okay.”
Rodney looked relieved. And he kept on looking relieved right up until the moment John kissed him.
It wasn’t all that spectacular as kisses went. They were both sitting cross-legged and John had to lean way over just to reach Rodney. When he gripped the front of Rodney’s jacket, it was more to keep from capsizing than from passion. He held it just long enough to make it clear that it wasn't an accident and released Rodney.
“Good god. What was that?” Rodney sputtered, putting his fingers to his lips, checking that they were still there and in working order.
John shrugged. “Well, you’re in love with me. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”
“I ...” Rodney trailed off, speechless
“What else was I suppose to do? You were going on and on about how you didn't want to get hurt.”
“I did not say that!” Rodney was outraged, his ears pinking. “And you kissed me.”
“You’d never forgive me if I asked in your vulnerable state, and if I asked when you weren't under the effects of alien truth serum, you’d lie.”
“Well ... yes,” Rodney reluctantly agreed.
“So I kissed you. Seemed easiest.” John waved in a vague so-here-we-are gesture.
“You could have said something.”
“Why would I say something if you're not going to say something?”
“I didn't know. And if I'd had even the smallest inkling that my doomed love wasn't so doomed, I would have said something. Well. Probably.” Rodney shook himself and re-engaged. “But you did know and still didn't say anything. Clearly you are the bigger jerk.”
“Rodney. I didn't know either. Not until you started going on about my eyes.”
“They really are nice,” Rodney protested. “I could have just been making an observation.
“Sure.” John swallowed and licked his lips. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Technically, you just did. But, all right, you can ask me another.”
“Want me to do it again?’
“Oh god, yes.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-09 02:11 am (UTC)Love both your Rodney and John voice. Can totally see this scene happening, Rodney fortifying himself and John just going breaking right through. Thanks for sharing!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-09 02:35 am (UTC)Why can't it be both? Rodney sandwich! :P
Love both your Rodney and John voice.
Thanks, they're a lot of fun to write. :)