A Far Better Thing by Alex (PG-13)
May. 3rd, 2009 02:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sholio posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecI am back to rec John/Rodney friendship this month (which I am sure surprises no one *g*).
Rec Category: Sheppard & McKay friendship
Pairing: none
Category: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, AU, hurt/comfort
Warning: mentions of Wraith-related and medical ickiness
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alex51324
Author's Website: n/a
Link: A Far Better Thing
Why This Must Be Read: It's always a treat to discover a new author, especially one who comes bearing a long, well-plotted and well-characterized story like this one! This story goes AU from "Duet"; rather than being rescued, Rodney is trapped on the Wraith ship for years, struggling to survive and wondering why no one has come to rescue him. The story begins at the point when he escapes and returns to Atlantis -- only to discover that he's already there! No one came to save him because no one knew he was missing; he was retrieved from the dart's buffer twice, once on the planet's surface by the Atlanteans ... and once by the Wraith.
It's a very plausible idea, and wonderfully brought to life in a story that's funny and heartbreaking by turns. What could be a very confusing narrative situation is handled deftly by the author, especially the subtle differences between the two Rodneys -- the one we know, and the lonely, physically and emotionally scarred newcomer. One of the things I loved most about the story is that the author never lets you forget that both versions of Rodney are equally "him", and equally entitled to his life on Atlantis, even though their different experiences have made them into slightly different people. This is something that John realizes almost immediately, and tries his best to be a supportive friend to both Rodneys -- which isn't easy, since they hate each other on sight and are resentful and jealous of each other, both of them convinced that there can be only one McKay on Atlantis.
Since I'm reccing both the Rodney McKay and the John/Rodney friendship categories this month, I dithered over which category to rec this one under, since it fits equally well in both. I eventually went with the John/Rodney friendship category, because a good deal of the story is from John's POV, and I loved his obvious affection for both Rodneys (and refusal to choose between them), as well as the author's nuanced handling of his slightly different interaction with each of them. This story is beautifully described by the phrase "friendship romance"; it's totally gen, but the odd and touching three-way friendship gives the story its shape and form, and its emotional heart.
Sample of story
“We’ll figure it out. The other you’s working on it, and you’ve got a head injury.”
“Oh, yeah.” Rodney actually let go of his knife to touch his bandage. “It hurt a lot, and there was a lot of blood, but I don’t know how bad it is. I hope Carson can save my eye.”
“Oh.” John wondered if he had to tell him, and realized that he did. If he tried to pretend that Carson was just off duty or something, Rodney would probably demand that somebody wake him up. “Carson, uh. We lost Carson.”
“You lost him?” Rodney sounded outraged.
Realizing Rodney may have misunderstood, John clarified, “Uh, not the way we lost you. He…died. I’m sorry.”
“Carson’s dead?” Rodney repeated. To John’s surprised horror, he started to cry.
The other Rodney—the real Rodney—hadn’t cried when Carson died, at least not that John knew about. Shit, maybe he had. But this Rodney was having one hell of a bad day, at the end of a string of bad days, and John guessed maybe it was more than he could take. He went into a slow-motion collapse, clutching the wall and sliding down until he was crouched on the floor.
John hunkered down next to him, and awkwardly patted his shoulder. He started to say a few things—that Beckett had died bravely, or that Keller, the new head of medicine, was good—but stopped when it was clear Rodney wasn’t listening.
Rodney rocked a little, his arm curled around his head, making these hiccupping sobs that reminded John of the way babies sometimes cried so hard they forgot how to breathe.
The infirmary corridor wasn’t one of the most trafficked in the city, but still, a few people passed by. All of them slowed and looked at Rodney with poorly-disguised curiosity, until John growled, “Keep moving.”
After a few minutes, with Rodney just starting to calm himself, Dr. Keller appeared with a wheelchair. She smiled at him awkwardly. “Can you help get him--”
“Sure,” John said. “Here, Rodney, let’s get you up.”
“I can walk,” Rodney mumbled, but he climbed into the wheelchair anyway.
While John pushed, Keller said, “Colonel Carter radioed me. She said he’s….”
“Yeah,” John answered.
“We should get him under the scanner right away.”
John walked faster.
By the time they got to the infirmary, Rodney had stopped crying, and was wiping his nose on what was left of his sleeves. Keller got him a Kleenex and helped him onto the scanner table. “Just hold still,” she told him kindly. “This won’t hurt.”
“Yeah, I have been here before,” Rodney said, in a tone suggesting that Keller was an idiot, while he rubbed the balled-up Kleenex under his nose.
“Right.” Keller nodded, her expression changing to a tight-lipped “dealing with Rodney” look. John found it strangely encouraging—this Rodney was a pathetic spectacle, but if he was still able to annoy people, he couldn’t be that badly off.
Rec Category: Sheppard & McKay friendship
Pairing: none
Category: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, AU, hurt/comfort
Warning: mentions of Wraith-related and medical ickiness
Author on LJ:
alex51324Author's Website: n/a
Link: A Far Better Thing
Why This Must Be Read: It's always a treat to discover a new author, especially one who comes bearing a long, well-plotted and well-characterized story like this one! This story goes AU from "Duet"; rather than being rescued, Rodney is trapped on the Wraith ship for years, struggling to survive and wondering why no one has come to rescue him. The story begins at the point when he escapes and returns to Atlantis -- only to discover that he's already there! No one came to save him because no one knew he was missing; he was retrieved from the dart's buffer twice, once on the planet's surface by the Atlanteans ... and once by the Wraith.
It's a very plausible idea, and wonderfully brought to life in a story that's funny and heartbreaking by turns. What could be a very confusing narrative situation is handled deftly by the author, especially the subtle differences between the two Rodneys -- the one we know, and the lonely, physically and emotionally scarred newcomer. One of the things I loved most about the story is that the author never lets you forget that both versions of Rodney are equally "him", and equally entitled to his life on Atlantis, even though their different experiences have made them into slightly different people. This is something that John realizes almost immediately, and tries his best to be a supportive friend to both Rodneys -- which isn't easy, since they hate each other on sight and are resentful and jealous of each other, both of them convinced that there can be only one McKay on Atlantis.
Since I'm reccing both the Rodney McKay and the John/Rodney friendship categories this month, I dithered over which category to rec this one under, since it fits equally well in both. I eventually went with the John/Rodney friendship category, because a good deal of the story is from John's POV, and I loved his obvious affection for both Rodneys (and refusal to choose between them), as well as the author's nuanced handling of his slightly different interaction with each of them. This story is beautifully described by the phrase "friendship romance"; it's totally gen, but the odd and touching three-way friendship gives the story its shape and form, and its emotional heart.
Sample of story
“We’ll figure it out. The other you’s working on it, and you’ve got a head injury.”
“Oh, yeah.” Rodney actually let go of his knife to touch his bandage. “It hurt a lot, and there was a lot of blood, but I don’t know how bad it is. I hope Carson can save my eye.”
“Oh.” John wondered if he had to tell him, and realized that he did. If he tried to pretend that Carson was just off duty or something, Rodney would probably demand that somebody wake him up. “Carson, uh. We lost Carson.”
“You lost him?” Rodney sounded outraged.
Realizing Rodney may have misunderstood, John clarified, “Uh, not the way we lost you. He…died. I’m sorry.”
“Carson’s dead?” Rodney repeated. To John’s surprised horror, he started to cry.
The other Rodney—the real Rodney—hadn’t cried when Carson died, at least not that John knew about. Shit, maybe he had. But this Rodney was having one hell of a bad day, at the end of a string of bad days, and John guessed maybe it was more than he could take. He went into a slow-motion collapse, clutching the wall and sliding down until he was crouched on the floor.
John hunkered down next to him, and awkwardly patted his shoulder. He started to say a few things—that Beckett had died bravely, or that Keller, the new head of medicine, was good—but stopped when it was clear Rodney wasn’t listening.
Rodney rocked a little, his arm curled around his head, making these hiccupping sobs that reminded John of the way babies sometimes cried so hard they forgot how to breathe.
The infirmary corridor wasn’t one of the most trafficked in the city, but still, a few people passed by. All of them slowed and looked at Rodney with poorly-disguised curiosity, until John growled, “Keep moving.”
After a few minutes, with Rodney just starting to calm himself, Dr. Keller appeared with a wheelchair. She smiled at him awkwardly. “Can you help get him--”
“Sure,” John said. “Here, Rodney, let’s get you up.”
“I can walk,” Rodney mumbled, but he climbed into the wheelchair anyway.
While John pushed, Keller said, “Colonel Carter radioed me. She said he’s….”
“Yeah,” John answered.
“We should get him under the scanner right away.”
John walked faster.
By the time they got to the infirmary, Rodney had stopped crying, and was wiping his nose on what was left of his sleeves. Keller got him a Kleenex and helped him onto the scanner table. “Just hold still,” she told him kindly. “This won’t hurt.”
“Yeah, I have been here before,” Rodney said, in a tone suggesting that Keller was an idiot, while he rubbed the balled-up Kleenex under his nose.
“Right.” Keller nodded, her expression changing to a tight-lipped “dealing with Rodney” look. John found it strangely encouraging—this Rodney was a pathetic spectacle, but if he was still able to annoy people, he couldn’t be that badly off.
