stargateficrec | Without a Paddle by Grey Lupous (PG-13)

Show: Stargate Atlantis
Rec Category: John Sheppard and Rodney McKay friendship
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Het/Slash/Gen: Gen
Warning/Spoilers: Per author, "A teensy bit of language, maybe? Unrepetant H/C?" | Spoilers up to 4x17 "Midway"
Author on LJ:

greyias
Author's Website: Shades of Grey
Link: Without a Paddle

Why this must be read:
Wordcount: 10,300
Summary: Rodney should have known that the mission was going to suck the moment he stepped through the Stargate, took in a deep breath of the fresh, clean mountain air — and swallowed a fly.

Another day, another mission gone horribly wrong. With Teyla on maternity leave, the rest of the team has been sent on a "routine" negotiation mission, though Rodney notes that three less likely negotiators would be hard to find. The story starts with John and Rodney on the run through the woods, separated from Ronon and (theoretically) making their way to the gate. Rodney ponders their predicament as they make their way through the woods ... but as if the mission weren't already bad enough, something else is very wrong, and Rodney must trust John to get them both out.

In her stories, Grey consistently paints Rodney and John as having a classic sibling-style relationship: They tease and mock one another mercilessly (though Grey doesn't descend into the cruelty that so many writers portray between them) ... but each knows without question that the other can absolutely be trusted. Humor is one of the trickiest types of writing to get right, but she makes it look effortless, offering line upon line that had me laughing out loud or remembering bits with a smile hours later — and every now and then, when you're distracted, she slips the knife right in. (Rodney's thoughts on the scheduling of medical appointments hurt.) Present-tense is not ordinarily my favored presentation style, but it works perfectly here. This is ultimately a meditation on friendship and absolute trust, using a classic hurt/comfort trope to bring the issue forward while always keeping sight of how these two guys actually communicate (or, ordinarily, don't).

Excerpt:
"Are you sure you're all right?" Sheppard asks, his voice dropping a few notes to that infuriating soft and concerned level.

"Do I look—" Rodney finally wheezes, "all right to you?"

"No." The answer is short and clipped. "You really don't."

Rodney closes his eyes and decides to concentrate on taking shallower breaths. If he can manage that, maybe he can handle more than a few words in a sentence.

"You're really red," Sheppard says. "More than you should be from that run."

"Some of us don't jog five million miles each morning," Rodney finally spits out when he gets his breathing under control. "It's a character flaw."

"McKay—" There's that familiar annoyance. He was kind of starting to miss it.

"I can keep up," he says, because really, what else can he do? Sit here and wait for the goon squad to catch up?

He opens his eyes to see Sheppard staring at him in a way that always unnerves him. Like he's looking right through Rodney and reading his mind. Sometimes he really hates John because of that. Rodney breaks the staring contest, instead trying to look for the sky between the branches fighting for space above them. Maybe it's his imagination, but it looks darker.

How long have they been at this?

"C'mon," Sheppard grunts, "our five minutes are up."

"Already?" He could swear it's only been three at the most.

"Yeah." When Sheppard absently taps the face of his watch, Rodney can see that the minute hand has crept eleven paces forward. "Let's keep moving."

"Why bother? We're already up the proverbial creek."

"Don't you believe in the power of positive thinking?"

"I believe more in the power of pulling over to check the goddamned map."

"Fresh out of those. Guess you'll have to settle for optimism."

"You don't know me at all, do you?"

Sheppard pushes to his feet, although the movement is slower than usual. Perhaps he's a little tired and sore too. Rodney tries to take some comfort in that, but he really can't. Instead he just takes a hold of the hand when it's offered and lets Sheppard haul him back to his feet.

Now that they're off the path, their pace is even slower. Rodney really wishes he had some idea of where they were headed. Are they circling back toward the Gate? Trying to climb the mountain so they can shoot up a flare for help when Sam sends a jumper through after they're overdue? Well, they're going to need to make a flare in that case, because Rodney left his packed in his other set of pants...

Either way, it makes no sense to be moving in a direction without a set destination. If you have no idea where you're going, how are you supposed to know when you get there?