Categories > TV > Stargate: Atlantis
Wake Up Call
2 reviewsSet at the end of season two. While stunned, Rodney meets up with his own mental firewall again, Dr. Samantha Carter. Based on events in Grace Under Pressure. One-shot.
1Funny
Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate: Atlantis
****
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
McKay groaned, spiteful of the singsong voice in his ear. He rolled over, burying his face in soft down. A hand caressed his cheek before drawing away and returning to slap him soundly.
"Ouch!" His eyes flickered open, and he sat up.
White. White walls, white floors, white ceilings-were there ceilings? How could he tell? The only distinction in his surroundings came from the white four poster bed he was presently sitting, his legs covered beneath the, you guessed it, white top sheet.
"It's about time."
Rodney jumped, falling off the bed in his struggle to stand. On the other side of the mattress lay none other than one. . .
"Dr. Carter?"
Samantha Carter smiled devilishly at her fellow scientist, one bare leg seductively snaking its way out from beneath the covers. She propped herself up on her elbow, holding the sheet across her chest with the other arm in a sloppy attempt to cover herself.
"Don't act so surprised, Rodney. You should have known that this would happen."
"What happened? Something happened?" The man straightened, releasing a hesitant, lopsided grin. "We had a happening?" The smug smile was suddenly wiped away. "I'm dreaming," he concluded.
"You took your own sweet time figuring that out." In a blink of the eye, the bed disappeared, and Sam stood before him, fully clothed in gray slacks and a sports jacket. "Do we need to go over the whole 'I'm a safeguard of your subconscious struggling for survival' thing again?"
Rodney shut his eyes, rubbing his temples in desperation. "So, I'm guessing I'm still alive, but that's probably not going to last."
"What's the last thing you remember?" Sam asked.
"The Wraith," Rodney answered quickly. His eyes widened, jaw slack. "No. No. NO. . .Oh, boy."
"That's right," answered his voice of reason. "They're headed to Earth. When they wake you, they'll probably be in orbit, mouths watering at the thought of feeding on our billions. And it will be your fault."
"Way to motivate!" Rodney snapped. "Aren't you supposed to help me out of these sorts of situations?"
"How can I? You're doomed." Carter sounded the word out slowly, letting it sink in. "Doomed, Rodney. And did I mention how this is entirely your fault?"
"Will you knock it off and tell me something useful. You know, you're acting a lot more like Sheppard at the moment." Sam raised a brow. "But you can stick to Dr. Carter's appearance," he added sheepishly. "Why do you keep saying that this is my fault-this is very much...well, it's someone else's fault."
"But the Wraith said it was yours, and you believe it, whether you want to admit it or not. It doesn't really matter whether it's true or not because it's what you believe, deep down inside." Carter walked to his side, standing out of his sight. Rodney rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed that he was left to stare into the white nothingness. "It looks like you're better at saving yourself than you are at saving your planet," she accused.
"You know," Rodney whipped his head around, "I honestly didn't think the inner me was as pessimistic as the outer me-obviously, I was wrong." Rodney's brow rose. "Are you trying to make me angry?"
Sam's smile glimmered mischievously. "Rodney, you're not this stupid. Don't you see that you can fix this problem? Everyone needs you to do one simple thing, problem solver. You need to wake up." She put a hand on his arm. "Dex is down. He took a couple of hits, but you only took one. You surrendered."
"I. . ." Rodney's mouth opened and closed indignantly. "I so did not surrender!"
Carter raised a hand. "You wanted to sleep, Rodney. You let your guard down. Now, you need to make the decision to get back up."
"And do what exactly," Rodney snapped, "destroy the Wraith with my wonderful sarcasm or outwit them into making me their king?"
"Actually, I was thinking somewhere along the lines of getting a hangnail."
"What?" Rodney sneered. Suddenly he laughed in realization. How had he forgotten! The nail file Sheppard had found for him after he'd hurt his finger working on the Orion. Of course, John had been laughing at him the whole time, but still. . . . "My nail file. And they say my complaining does no good."
"I knew you'd catch on." Sam poked at his pants' pocket. "You have just enough room to pull it out and stab it through the barrier to your right. Ronon will feel it. He'll know how to use it to disable the bonds holding you captive."
"That's brilliant." Rodney frowned. "But how am I supposed to make myself wake up."
"Well, now that you actually 'want' to awaken, that should be fairly easy." Carter held out a hand. A second later, she was balancing a huge rubber mallet, grasping its handle. With one swift movement, she raised it above Rodney's head.
McKay whimpered and jerked back, smacking his head on the organic wall behind him. He opened his eyes with a shaky breath, certain that he could feel a bump the size of a baseball rising on his forehead. He ran his fingers over his pocket, memories flooding back into his mind. He could feel the slender pieced of metal within his grasp. With a grin, he pulled it out.
"Rodney McKay, you are a genius. . ."
****
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
McKay groaned, spiteful of the singsong voice in his ear. He rolled over, burying his face in soft down. A hand caressed his cheek before drawing away and returning to slap him soundly.
"Ouch!" His eyes flickered open, and he sat up.
White. White walls, white floors, white ceilings-were there ceilings? How could he tell? The only distinction in his surroundings came from the white four poster bed he was presently sitting, his legs covered beneath the, you guessed it, white top sheet.
"It's about time."
Rodney jumped, falling off the bed in his struggle to stand. On the other side of the mattress lay none other than one. . .
"Dr. Carter?"
Samantha Carter smiled devilishly at her fellow scientist, one bare leg seductively snaking its way out from beneath the covers. She propped herself up on her elbow, holding the sheet across her chest with the other arm in a sloppy attempt to cover herself.
"Don't act so surprised, Rodney. You should have known that this would happen."
"What happened? Something happened?" The man straightened, releasing a hesitant, lopsided grin. "We had a happening?" The smug smile was suddenly wiped away. "I'm dreaming," he concluded.
"You took your own sweet time figuring that out." In a blink of the eye, the bed disappeared, and Sam stood before him, fully clothed in gray slacks and a sports jacket. "Do we need to go over the whole 'I'm a safeguard of your subconscious struggling for survival' thing again?"
Rodney shut his eyes, rubbing his temples in desperation. "So, I'm guessing I'm still alive, but that's probably not going to last."
"What's the last thing you remember?" Sam asked.
"The Wraith," Rodney answered quickly. His eyes widened, jaw slack. "No. No. NO. . .Oh, boy."
"That's right," answered his voice of reason. "They're headed to Earth. When they wake you, they'll probably be in orbit, mouths watering at the thought of feeding on our billions. And it will be your fault."
"Way to motivate!" Rodney snapped. "Aren't you supposed to help me out of these sorts of situations?"
"How can I? You're doomed." Carter sounded the word out slowly, letting it sink in. "Doomed, Rodney. And did I mention how this is entirely your fault?"
"Will you knock it off and tell me something useful. You know, you're acting a lot more like Sheppard at the moment." Sam raised a brow. "But you can stick to Dr. Carter's appearance," he added sheepishly. "Why do you keep saying that this is my fault-this is very much...well, it's someone else's fault."
"But the Wraith said it was yours, and you believe it, whether you want to admit it or not. It doesn't really matter whether it's true or not because it's what you believe, deep down inside." Carter walked to his side, standing out of his sight. Rodney rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed that he was left to stare into the white nothingness. "It looks like you're better at saving yourself than you are at saving your planet," she accused.
"You know," Rodney whipped his head around, "I honestly didn't think the inner me was as pessimistic as the outer me-obviously, I was wrong." Rodney's brow rose. "Are you trying to make me angry?"
Sam's smile glimmered mischievously. "Rodney, you're not this stupid. Don't you see that you can fix this problem? Everyone needs you to do one simple thing, problem solver. You need to wake up." She put a hand on his arm. "Dex is down. He took a couple of hits, but you only took one. You surrendered."
"I. . ." Rodney's mouth opened and closed indignantly. "I so did not surrender!"
Carter raised a hand. "You wanted to sleep, Rodney. You let your guard down. Now, you need to make the decision to get back up."
"And do what exactly," Rodney snapped, "destroy the Wraith with my wonderful sarcasm or outwit them into making me their king?"
"Actually, I was thinking somewhere along the lines of getting a hangnail."
"What?" Rodney sneered. Suddenly he laughed in realization. How had he forgotten! The nail file Sheppard had found for him after he'd hurt his finger working on the Orion. Of course, John had been laughing at him the whole time, but still. . . . "My nail file. And they say my complaining does no good."
"I knew you'd catch on." Sam poked at his pants' pocket. "You have just enough room to pull it out and stab it through the barrier to your right. Ronon will feel it. He'll know how to use it to disable the bonds holding you captive."
"That's brilliant." Rodney frowned. "But how am I supposed to make myself wake up."
"Well, now that you actually 'want' to awaken, that should be fairly easy." Carter held out a hand. A second later, she was balancing a huge rubber mallet, grasping its handle. With one swift movement, she raised it above Rodney's head.
McKay whimpered and jerked back, smacking his head on the organic wall behind him. He opened his eyes with a shaky breath, certain that he could feel a bump the size of a baseball rising on his forehead. He ran his fingers over his pocket, memories flooding back into his mind. He could feel the slender pieced of metal within his grasp. With a grin, he pulled it out.
"Rodney McKay, you are a genius. . ."
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