Doctor Rodney McKay

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 15:38:33 GMT

From the first moment I walked onto Atlantis, I felt it; the unearthly pressure of all the history of countless centuries. An entire people lived and died in this city, yet of them little record is left.

There are tantalising glimpses – the hologram Carson discovered, research labs left in states of disrepair. And the odder things like a shadow entity locked in a trap and a woman frozen in stasis.

Atlantis can be a weird place.

It presses you in some times. When I'm in its depths, in the dark, there's a weight that suffocates me just as the dust of Ancient machines long abandoned rises to choke me. It's those times common sense forsakes me and I swear their ghosts are watching.

There was a recent occurrence where it seemed Atlantis really was haunted. The whale-like creatures that live in the surrounding waters converged on the city in response to some weird animal instinct that warned them of an imminent devastating solar flare. They attempted to warm us, reserving an Ancient experiment and their ghosts walked the halls.

I didn't witness any of them, something I count as fortunate considering the descriptions those like Teyla and Ronon and Elizabeth gave. It was bad enough going back under the surface in a puddlejumper which, though I never sworn not to do again, came way too soon after the last time for my liking. That did mean Sheppard and I got a real close look at “Sam” and his mom.

However it was their sonar that caused the headaches we both suffered, and burst our eardrums. That was incredibly painful, but being deafened to their noise did stop us from seeing the projections the others on Atlantis saw.

I'm quite grateful, in a way. I have enough ghosts of my own to live with.

creative_muses // Jan Prompt 005

Fri, 19 Jan 2007 22:22:39 GMT

Picture prompt

Whilst on Earth, I took the chance to visit with Jeannie. Possibly not the best circumstances to visit with my sister... or maybe just the right one. I mean, okay it wasn't the reason I wanted to be back on Earth but, you know, next time it could be... um... me?

Anyway, like I said, I went round to Jeannie. She was very sympathetic and gave me a shoulder to cry on. Not that I did-- Oh, who am I kidding? Yeah, I did. Quite a bit, so I guess there's been a lot of stuff bottled up.

I managed to get myself under control eventually. Certainly in time for Maddie coming home. Never mind not wanting to be caught crying by my four-year old niece - I wasn't prepared to explain why.

Then Jeannie got a phonecall from one of her female friends and apparently needed to go out. Like right now. Which left me in charge of Maddie.

Ha, yeah right; Maddie quickly absolved me of that little misconception. I never knew four year olds could be so... so... controlling. Within five mintues she'd informed - and that is exactly the right word - me that we were going to the park.

And before I knew it, we'd donned coats, and I'd found her hat and gloves, and we were off. I didn't know where the heck the park was but Maddie certainly did. And it's weird, because I've never thought of myself as the family type of man, but walking down the streets with her little hand in mine...

I realise now why Jeannie made the decision she did. And in many ways, I envy her a normal life, with a normal job and a spouse and a kid.

Maybe one day.

talking_muses // wc 20/01/07 - 22c Stare

Fri, 19 Jan 2007 21:16:00 GMT

I'm doing it again - staring at the screen. I shake myself, knowing I've not read a single word on it. The report is black and white, stark, distant from the situation.

Shouldn't that make is easier? Because it doesn't. How can words, any words, summerise a man's life? How can they explain adequently his hopes and dreams, fears and weaknesses? How can they detail the tragedy of a life cut short, of the horrific death of someone who fought day in and day out to save the lives of others?

The last paragraph I've typed taunts me. I delete the words, wishing I could erase the past as easily. If I typed a different ending, would it change the reality? Could I rearrange history with cut and paste?

I sigh, knowing that I cannot. I can't change what happened, no matter how... badly I want to.

Carson is dead.

And no amount of staring into space and wishing otherwise will change that fact.

muse_channel // 03/01/07 - Exhaustion

Sat, 06 Jan 2007 15:03:38 GMT

Exhaustion. I have been exhausted more often than I’ve wanted. Pulling an all-nighter is a regular occurrence for me; usually because it’s been necessary. Protecting Atlantis is a twenty four hour job and it’s often under pressure.

The first time I discovered just how long a human being could stay awake was during the Wraith siege. There came a point where everything merged together and even now I cannot remember how many hours it was before I could finally get some sleep.

I do remember becoming bone-weary tired. I never knew a person could get so tired and still manage to keep going. It was having to keep going that drove me on. I had to do everything I could to keep the city safe.

Fortunately that kind of thing only happens once in a while, though I still think once is more than enough, to be honest.

But I have learnt the cure for exhaustion. It’s need and stubbornness and an awful lot of strong black coffee.