Fic: Rodney's Reverse Ascension
Mar. 18th, 2006 01:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
libra_travellerTitle: Rodney's Reverse Ascension
Author: libra_traveller
Rating: R
Warnings: Character Death, Satire, Assisted Suicide
Summary: Rodney McKay dies and goes to hell. While there he's given a mission to help free the souls of the Wraith victims.
Author's Note: The beginning of this story is really only a means to an end. I had to find something horrible enough for Rodney to do that would land him in hell without ruining his character.
While on a planet, the team finds a girl who is slowly dying with excruciating pain. They make a call back to Atlantis to speak to Doctor Beckett. He comes through the gate with medical supplies. He discovers that there is nothing he can do. She is dying from a fatal disease, and it is too late to cure it. Beckett as well as the rest of the team minus Rodney McKay, leave the building the girl is residing in. Rodney did not wish to leave the girl to die alone.
"Your name is McKay, yes?" Rodney nods. The girl continues. "My name is Amelia. My family will not help me. I do not wish to die this way. It is my own personal belief that someone should die in peace at their own choosing, so that they may leave this world whole in spirit to travel to the next life. Will you help me?"
Rodney McKay was shocked by what he heard. "You want me to help you die?!" He never liked the thought of assisted suicide.
"Please. Doctor Beckett says there is no chance for my recovery, but that I may linger on for days."
"Is there any words that should be spoken before you die?" He asked this to distract her.
"I do not believe so. What do you say on your world?" Uncomfortable, Rodney began to explain about eulogies during funerals, and how people would write wills before they die. Inwardly he hoped that someone would come back into the room, and he would lose his chance to act. "Is there any markers, you said you bury the dead?"
"We have stones we place at the head of a grave. Often they say R.I.P. It means Rest In Peace."
"That is nice." Amelia began coughing strongly and her body began to shake. Between coughs she begged Rodney to end her pain. "Please, before it gets worse. Before this illness destroys my body, and my spirit."
He did not know how he could even help her let go. Carson had removed his medical supplies. Then Rodney remembers the epinephrine shot he carries with him. It would speed up her heart rate. He gave her one last look to ask if she was sure. She nodded slightly, her eyes pleading. Looking towards the door to be sure no one would walk in, Rodney opened up the packet. He expertly inserted the drug into her system. For a few seconds, there was no visible reaction. Then her pulse sped up and she started taking quicker breaths. For a moment her eyes looked panicked, then Rodney gripped her hand and she held on tight. Rodney began to speak. "Amelia, a girl I just met, and yet already you show trust in me. Not a desperate plea, but a certainty that I could help you. You have strong beliefs that no one can take from you. Amelia, go into this other world at the time of your choosing." As her eyes began to close and her breathing faltered, Rodney whispered these last words. "May you rest in peace, Amelia." The grip in his hand slackened. She was gone.
He did not know what to do. He had just assisted a suicide. If he were back on Earth, he would be thrown in prison maybe even be given a death sentence. What would her family do? Just then, Amelia's brother came in to say his last farewell. He stopped, seeing his sister dead, and the empty needle that lay on a table beside her. He turned and walked out. Rodney, deep in thought and the beginnings of grief, did not notice. A few minutes later, the brother returned, with a dagger.
Rodney heard a sound and turned. A man came up with a blade and shoved it into his chest before Rodney could move away. Rodney screamed for help. Carson Beckett and John Sheppard rushed in. Amelia's brother had vanished. Carson reached Rodney's side just in time to catch him as he passed out.
***
Later in the Atlantis infirmary, Dr. Beckett was explaining to Doctor Weir, Rodney's condition. Though the cut did not cause very much damage, the blade had been poisoned. The people on the planet claimed they knew of no antidote. Rodney McKay was dying, fast.
John Sheppard sat in a chair next to the bed Rodney lay in. Rodney had yet to wake up, according to the doctor, he never will. Even if Carson could keep Rodney alive indefinitely in the hope that someday a cure would be available...damn him...Rodney made sure to put a DNR note in his file. Do not resuscitate. Dammit, that shouldn't ever count when in another galaxy where miraculous events could occur. Why did he have to help that girl, because John knows that's what he was doing. Rodney would never just kill someone, not even out of mercy. The girl had to have asked him to do it, pleaded even until he broke. Rodney was never the cold-hearted person people made him out to be. He cared for people, perhaps too much, which is why he always tried to hide it from others. He thought it was a weakness, his heart. Now that same loving heart is slowing coming to its end. John reaches out to Rodney's hand, tentatively stroking it. He leans in slightly lifting the hand up to his mouth and giving it a tender kiss. Lowering his hand back to the bed, John whispers one word, bye.
Aiden Ford walks over to the now vacated chair after passing by John. Aiden does not sit, but stands near the bed looking upon Rodney's face. A good friend, though time has been short and mostly hectic. He was a hero when they need one, though always making sarcastic jokes when he felt at a loss. Some people found this uncaring, but it lightened the mood, gave others a chance to breathe and then get back to concentrating on solutions. A genius, he never lied about that. Many of the crew thought he was bragging when he called himself that. He was just looking for understanding. So much knowledge in his head, and people expecting him to always find and deliver the right information, during a crisis nevertheless. He must have felt so lonely at times, his mind the only thing people respected him for. Yet it is his spirit that will live on. He was a great man.
At last it is Teyla's turn. She always hated this part of death, the lingering, the goodbyes. No words that she could think of could express how much this man's life has made an impact on her own. A team-member, a new found friend. A colleague, the most favored part of their relationship. He respected her, trusted her, and looked to her for guidance as much as everyone else looked to him. Not much of a fighter in the beginning, but he wanted to learn, and he improved greatly over such a short time in their acquaintance. He will be sorely missed. She turns away to walk back to her quarters where she can begin to grieve in silence.
Elizabeth Weir waits by the infirmary doors, watching as the last member of Rodney's team walks away. Another member of the colony is almost gone. To some he is already lost. Slowly gliding towards the bed, Elizabeth relunctantly gazes down at him. She only met him in the last stages of pulling together the Atlantis mission. For the most part, Elizabeth had avoided Antartica, simply receiving detailed reports and sending memos back and forth. She had heard a great deal about him from Colonel Sam Carter, little of it good. Of course that was because she had asked about his personality, there was already plenty paper about his intelligence. Weary of any nasty greeting, she had avoided him the first day of her arrival. The second day, Rodney actually came and found her. Expecting him to jump into requests for more personnel or money, or complaints about how people were running things, she had been surprised when he just wanted to be the first to give her a tour of the place. As they walked, he excitedly babbled on about all the new discoveries and possibilities this place could bring, and what they may find if they actually reached Atlantis. His enthusiasm is what helped her to come to grips with her new assignment. He made the place sound so amazing, that she wished to experience it for herself. Atlantis will be empty without the energy and soul he brought to the place. The city had become her home, and now she is losing another member of her family.
Dr. Carson Beckett is in his office, staring morosely at his computer. He hates this feeling of impotency, with no way of saving his friend. A doctor's worse nightmare is to lose a patient, but to lose a friend too... that's hell. An odd shiver crawls down his spine and a shadow comes over the room. Turning to look out the door, he sees a strange reddish-black glow emmanating from Rodney's bed. He rushes into the room towards where Elizabeth Weir is standing. Her face is stricken and confused. Whatever is happening, is beyond alien, it seems mystical, wrapping itself around their friend, almost absorbing him. An explosion of black light shoots out, blinding them. Slowly vision returns and they watch as a black glowing being slowly sinks through the bed and floor, vanishing. Rodney's body is gone. Looking towards the monitor, Carson notices something he missed before, Rodney had flat-lined and there's a loud keening noise filling the room. Numbly, Carson turns the machine off. Turning to look at Elizabeth their eyes meet, and similar thoughts dawdle through their heads. A flashy show so like an ascension as mentioned in reports, but not white light, black. Rodney did not become a higher being. What if he became a lower one? Carson shudders and turns away, removing Rodney's clothes from the bed as well as the sheets. Elizabeth slowly walks out of the infirmary to the control deck, from there she'll let everyone know. She will tell them that he is gone, but gone where? Not to heaven, that's for sure, but to hell? Rodney? Never. He was a good person, she knows that, it makes little sense. Just one more mystery, another addition to the long list of things that went wrong in the Pegasus Galaxy.
***
Oww, Owwww, Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Shit, this hurts. What the fuck is going on?!!!! I thought I was dead. This is a lot of pain to experience after dying!!! I so wish I could go back and shove this information into my Philosophy Professor's face. It seems Death hurts more than dying!!!! And the color scheme of this place, man! Black on black on black on black. I never noticed there were that many shades of black. And not a one of them pretty either. Eugh. And what's that smell?!!! It smells like a cross between cow guts and disposable tampons. I could never take that smell, that's why I refused to ever become a garbage man regardless of what my father said about my worth in the job department.
I think my senses are finally getting used to that smell. Now I can finally hear the hideous screaming coming from all corners. There's also these weird red lights around what I suppose are people. They're like those terrible strobe lights you find in clubs. Pitiful. If this is Hell, I think it needs a new decorator. The floor is filthy!!! Doesn't these devil-things know that the only scary floor is a clean one?!! I expect there's no food here either. That's good. I've always Hated food, but my damn hypoglycemia guaranteed I had to eat certain foods, and I had to trick my mind into enjoying it. There is this acrid taste on my tongue, must be something in the air. What they do, throw ammonia mist into these people's faces? Oh please, like we didn't learn that trick centuries ago.
Oh and where's the ceiling??? Don't tell me they could never afford an actual roof, please. Oh man, I hear it now. I completely change my opinion of this place. It seems they did learn how to torture mankind. There it is, that godawful Opera music!! So damn high pitched, if my ears weren't already ringing, my ear drums would have popped. Oh, I think I can see the walls down. Looks like the inside of a cavern, typical. Blood spattered in hoky designs. Someone might expect that it was caused by the spray of bodies being torn apart, but its too chaotic, and not random at all. I'd guess someone tore out their own blood and smeared it on the walls. Probably the only thing to do down here.
"Oh will you shut up already. It's not like I've got anyone around here to help me. This place is just getting too crowded. I don't have time to monitor everyone's punishments. They've all devised their own tortures and they don't serve any purpose. How is the soul supposed to heal if all it does is review past guilts over and over again?"
"What? So you're saying you've over-booked? Then why am I here?"
"I want to hire you. You prove you can conquer your own inner demons without any outside intervention and I'll let you help and free as many of these people as you can."
"And why would I want to do that?"
"They're the missing souls the Wraith separated from the spirits of their victims."
***
"You want me to what?!! I don't think so. I mean, yeah, I feel bad and all for all these souls, but really, I don't think I can help them. As you said, I have a lot of inner demons, and I'm not capable of conquering them. So how could I possibly help them. No, just send me on, to whatever, you've got the wrong guy."
"Oh, I don't think so. I'll just leave you to your own devices. Eventually you'll see things my way. Ba bye. Enjoy re-living your life for an eternity or three."
"Wait! You can't just leave me here like this. The place stinks to high heaven!"
"Oh that, I very much doubt."
***
"Dammit, just when I was getting to know him. I always wondered what the devil would be like. Had a few choice words to say to him. No wonder he vamooshed. So Let's see. I'm suppose to delve into my inner demons. What would he choose, top to bottom or bottom to top. Guess I better start when I was a child. Wait, that makes no sense. Hey, I can finally see what people really thought of me when I was a baby. Okey-dokey. How do I get this thing to work. HeY! Devil-dude, where's my REMOTE??? Oh thanks. So tele, or hmm, maybe a walk-in closet type look-see. Hmm. Yep, there's a bed. Those look like nurses. Hmm, oh hey, there's my mom. Oh doesn't she look ugly like that. She doesn't look too happy either. Just-pain, or is she really mad she's having me, like she always said to my face..."
Caroline looks up. Thinking she sees a creepy man with an ugly demeanor she yells for hubby. "Quentin!!!"
Quentin runs in from just talking to the nurses. "Honey, what the hell is the matter. I was here a second ago."
"Bastard. Don't talk to me like that while I'm having your child. I tried to divorce you, but oh no, you had to seduce me all over again, and we wound up with *this*. You'll probably just leave me like you did before, and I'll be left to take care of Rodney and Sara all by myself."
"Rodney. So that's the name you decided on. Sounds kinda wimpy to me." Quentin began walking away, bored with his wife's prattle.
"Go Ahead!! Walk away, you always do. Rodney *needs* a Father Figure but you obviously aren't man enough to be that person. You asshole. Get away, you would just turn him into the mean and ugly thing that you are today. My son will be Nothing like you. He will have a heart. He will know love no matter what you tell him!! I will love him, you will just pretend you do. Trying to twist him into your preconceived notion of how he should be!!! Ahhhh, dammit, get the nurse I think he's coming. My baby boy! Feisty! Love you Rodney, Love you so much!!!"
Rodney quickly presses the pause button. "She always told me my father was an ass, I don't think I ever believed her. I miss her. I really do. She loved me. Even before I was born. Wow. Okay, button two."
On a rug is a cute adorable baby boy playing with various child-toys. He looks very happy, and thrilled at each any every discovery he makes. Near him, on a sofa sits his mother, fondly gazing at her child.
Rodney tries to catch the tears that have begun falling down his cheeks. Embarrassed he presses number four. He sees himself older, and there's his mom, exhausted but happy. Rodney gives up and drops to the floor, openly crying with happy tears. His mom really loved him. "Every word out of my Dad's mouth was a lie. She loved me. She really cared for me. I never realized how much she did for me." Rodney lies down on the carpet watching his younger self. He starts to openly sob for the lost of his mother. He never knew how to grieve for her after she killed herself. "I thought she died not knowing I loved her. I wish I could tell her now."
Unaware of his presence, Rodney continues to cry. Roger Alfred Bobitt slowly guards Rodney, watching as a soul finally heals, something he has not seen in tens of thousands of years. This is the one. He will free them. "I know he can. I wasn't sure, but now I am. Doctor Rodney Francis McKay is the savior of the universe. God bless him. And bless the Atlanteans."
Lord Jesus Christ walks up to Roger and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You found him didn't you. I told you he was the one."
Roger, "Always have to be right don't you."
Jesus, "Not always. But in this, I was absolutely positive. Look at him. Look in his face. He's practically glowing. Wait, nope, he's really glowing. See that white light that's encompassing the black shadows around him. The red is disappearing, oh my, see he kinda looks like obsidian, you know pure black, with an inner reflecting light?"
Roger, "I see it. All he has to do is get those people with the red glow around them to make the same change. Not an easy task, but he's capable of it. And he's quite tenacious, if anyone can get a group of people to shut up and listen, Rodney can."
There lying on the floor of hell itself, a man surrounded in a pure black glow, looks up into the infinite dark ceiling. A joyous smile covers his whole face and is evident in the way his body is more relaxed than ever in life. Rodney McKay is the first man to feel the warmth of heaven while residing in hell.
"The power of love. How cliche. And yet, that has to be why I can't stop smiling. I'm in H E L L for God's sake! Or the devil's? Anyways, I shouldn't be smiling, but I can't help it. My mom loved me. She LOVED me. ME!!!" Rodney jumps up and starts running shouting 'Love' at the top of his lungs. As he crosses the paths of tortured souls, heads pause and stare at this freak of nature.
"Love, love, love, loving mommy, love, love, love." Rodney has his arms stretched out into the air and is swirling like mad. The people around him starting to get scared, expecting him to explode.
Someone, a man, speaks up for the first time in centuries. "Someone has truly lost it down here. I thought the guy chewing on his own intestines was crazy, but this, this singing, it's Insanity!"
Another person, this time a woman, finds her voice. "Poor fellow. I wonder what made him snap?"
This statement seems to grab Rodney's attention. He finally notices the people around him and frowns. "Don't you get it? I'm Happy. H A P P Y, happy. Joyous? Thrilled? Cheerful? NOT upset?!! What's wrong with you people? Never seen a guy smile before?" Rodney, getting irritated, storms past the gathering crowd. He begins muttering to himself. 'Stupid souls, stuck in hell for thousands of years and what? their memories collapse? Can't even remember what it's like to be happy...' This thought stops him, and he turns around suddenly, his eyes almost glazed. "That's it isn't it? You've all spent so much time dwelling on everything that went wrong in your lives that you can't remember any of the good. Well, fine. I'm going to make you remember. We're all going to have a field trip through each of your lives. So who thinks they have the worst memory of all man-kind? Well don't jump up all at once."
"Why must you bother us? I for one am perfectly happy detailing each and every moment of travesty." A old, senile man says this with a look of disdain at the newly damned.
Rodney shrugs at him. "Yes, well you're a kook. Okay, how's this. Raise your hand if you've ever killed somebody out of malice and still don't feel guilty about it?" A few people raised their hands, their red light a sickly yellow. "Alright then, you people can't come on this field-trip. I'd say everybody who's life was sucked out by a Wraith, come with me, except I don't believe all of those people can possibly deserve redemption. So, everyone with a low self-esteem and the guilt-ridden who have never raped or murdered, kidnapped, abused, or tortured people as a hobby, walk this way."
A group of wary individuals walked, hopped, and crawled towards him. Rodney began walking them in a circle, pointing this way and that, as if he were a tour-guide. "Welcome to Hell. Today we will begin our trip towards Salvation. Let me introduce myself. I'm a selfish arrogant bastardized know-it-all. I like to insult women who are smarter than me. I litter and on my home planet I got quite the thrill out of running red lights and then showing my Military ID to the police who pulled me over. I profess to being a genius when I in fact cheated on the MENSA tests. I lost my virginity to a hooker, and then snuck out the window of the motel while she was in the shower, without paying her. The biggest crime I ever committed was hacking into the top-secret government documents of my country and then threatening the military that I was going to sell the information to their insurance agents. This landed me my very own top secret job that led to me being in this very galaxy."
A young twenty-something girl jogged up to him and smacked him across the head. "If we're travelling to our salvation, why is our guide such a flaming ass-hole." Rodney turns to her aghast. He rubs his pained head and continues walking trying to place as much distance between her and himself.
"I WAS not finished. I love animals and was a strong activist against the mistreatment of animals. I had a kitty named Tycho that I absolutely adored. I'm a strong believer that the weak should be protected. Sure this stems from the fact that I am one of those weak people in need of protection... Anywho. I don't consider myself a hero, but if someone needs help and I can do something for them, at least give them company, I will. I do not hate children. I'm just not very good around them even though they seem drawn to me. I'm probably just an odd challenge for them. I'm no action-hero, but I try to work against forces with evil intent. It's all about strategy and fairy-tales, good always conquers evil." By the time Rodney finished, the hell-hole these people were residing in, now resembles a dratty apartment building. The room is furnished with sickly blue carpeting and striped couches. The walls are covered in too cheerful flowery wall-paper. A fridge in the kitchen is covered with a sheets of paper with assignments written in small neat letters with a grade written next to it. A record.
Rodney sits down in a chair, looking quite glum. "So this is my home. This is where I grew to be the awful man I am today. I know I am not a good person, but if don't deserve to rot my soul away over every horrific event of my life. If I am worthy of an eternity of peace... then all of you are too. I will prove to each and every one of you that you have love inside of you, that someone loved you during your tenure in this universe. We will all rest in peace when I am done."
Roger shakes his head. "Christ, does he really think it'll be that easy or is he just willing to spend all of eternity living through other people's nightmares?"
Jesus who is now lounging in a red stoned throne, that he dusted off before sitting, answers him. "Determined I suppose. Of course he doesn't look very happy. I think he realized that he still has to relive the rest of his life, and now in front of others. He sure is in for a surprise. Granted many of the people in his life disliked him, but he had respect that I think he never noticed."
Roger plops down on to the floor and pulls his knees up to his chin. "Sure, whatever you say. I hope he can take it. Especially when he figures out exactly how many people he knew considered him 'the idiot'." They both turn to watch the events unfold.
***
Sitting at a dining-room table is a boy of nine years. He has a series of textbooks and notebooks arranged across the table. He's writing slowly and meticulously, the correct answers to problems. He doesn't always know the answers to a question, but he learned early on to find the answer in the back of the book and then work the problem backwards. Having skipped two grades, he has a great deal to catch up on, which explains the extra homework. While he's working, an older man comes through the side door. He places his briefcase on top of the boys papers without a look, stretching his hand out impatiently. The boy quickly shuffles through his back pack for his graded work and hands it to his father. The man walks to the fridge picking up a marker. He takes the grades and writes it on the paper taped to the fridge. At every 'A' he seems pleased. Every 'B' he sniffs. Every 'C' he snarls. When he comes across one 'D', he drops the papers to the floor and storms back over to the boy. He picks him up by the collar of his shirt and drags him into the living room where the boy's mother is taking a nap. The man roughly shakes his wife's shoulder, waking her. He proceeds to tell her about Roddy's humiliating grades. He sees it as proof the boy shouldn't have been placed in grades ahead of his level. The woman turns to Rodney, still in his father's fierce grip. She asks him what assignment he received the poor grade in. He mutters regretfully, 'Art'. His father laughs derisively. The woman begs Rodney to be more specific. Rodney proceeds to tell them the assignment. He was supposed to paint a self-portrait of his 'inner self'. He received a 'D' for unorginality and a lack of any creative style. According to his teacher, all of his style choices were too precise to represent the human psyche. This was a project he had worked on for two weeks. He had been very proud of it, believing it to truly symbolize himself. Now all he can believe is one of two choices. He either sucks at painting and his ideas didn't show through. Or he isn't much of a human-being. His father, Quentin, releases Rodney, telling him to go finish his homework. His parents conference over this dilemna and decide that they'll just have to ask the principle to allow Rodney to abstain from taking art classes as he's too busy for such abstract concepts.
***
Rodney McKay paces the hallway, all the damned souls watching him warily. Finally he turns to them, "So I'm not artistic."
The woman who had slapped him earlier, walks over to one of the doors in the hallway. "Is this your room?" She pushes open the door and stares in open-mouthed wonder at all the pictures and drawings that litter the walls of the room. "Where did you come across these? They're beautiful. Those people, so realistic. And their eyes, I can see into them." There are separate drawings of groups of children sitting in class, eatting in a cafeteria, and jumping rope on a playground.
Rodney slips into the room and gazes upon some of his old artwork. "Oh. I did those. They're not that great really. Though I guess after spending centuries with only the devil's decor, anything has to look good." He lovingly caresses a photo placed on his desk. There had been a moment, a day after his counselors had declared him gifted enough to be placed ahead, that his parents had seemed happy. They congratulated themselves on having a special, intelligent child. They were sleeping comfortingly in each other's arms on the sofa. Rodney had taken a photograph of them in black and white that he later developed.
"Excuse me, but I use to make a living off of selling artwork, and these drawings could make me a rich bundle. Your 'teacher' must have been insane, or jealous, when they gave you such a low grade. Did you keep that painting? Can we see it?" An old woman looks expectantly at Rodney.
Rodney minutely shakes his head. "I shredded it. It was just a collage of my happiest moments. Nothing special." Rodney sits down on his plain blue bed sheets. There are no stuffed animals on his bed, his father having thrown them out, saying that Rodney needed to start behaving like a man.
A few of the souls yawn, bored. "Is there a point to all of this? I mean, I'm sorry no one appreciated your talent as an artist, but what does this have to do with us?" A young man sits on the desk, legs sprawled outwards.
"Oh so, so sorry. Yeah, I can see how this must be worse than you watching your mother strangle your sister over and over again." Rodney huffs.
"Hey, how did you know that about me?" The young man had jumped up and is now standing in front of Rodney.
Rodney, looking bewildered, can only shrug. "I don't know how, I just seem to know what all of you keep reliving. I also didn't plan for any of you to watch this moment of my life. I'm going to take a nap, if it's alright with Devil Dick over there. You guys can just go lounge in your own hells for a bit." He stretches across his bed, covering himself in the child-size blanket. His feet hang off the end of the bed.
"Yeah, fine." The young woman leads the crowd out of Rodney's home. "Who knew the road to salvation was so senseless?"
Black haze, swirls of white light flickering. Looking down is a stretch of pavement that a brown-haired man jogs across. He wears gray sweats and a white head band. His somewhat fit body sweats in the glaring sun. He stops and bends over gripping his knees taking huge deep breaths. A flick of his wrist shows a watch, the time is two pm. Walking on the sidewalk the rest of the way to a house, he calculates how many calories he should have lost from that exercise. The house is a common suburban home, but inside the walls and furniture are too neat, too clean. The rooms hold an odd balance between sparsity and extravagance with only a spattering of well chosen paintings and pottery. The man skips into his room without a glance at either. He returns later after a shower, in a black suit with a stylish tie. Leaving the home he gets in the car and drives to a nearby university physics building. An award ceremony is being set up. There's a crowd of people surrounding a table in front of the doors to the auditorium. He waits in line, checking out the other celebrants along with their friends and family. He seems to be the only who's come alone. At his turn he picks up a name tag. He receives a disapproving look when he announces that he has no guests with him. The auditorium is crowded and loud with good humor. Finding a place up in the back where few reside, he seats himself. Eventually the house lights dim and the Dean of the College of Science walks on stage. After a dull introduction, he finally gives out the commendations.
"Rodney Frances McKay? He has shown an amazing deal of concentration and skill in his research of Particle Physics for Dark Matter. We are awarding him a $10,000 grant to continue his work as well as a recommendation to our government's Science Academy." Rodney McKay walks up stage and shakes the man's hand. From the audience he gains some polite clapping, a far cry from the whistling and shouting others received. He stays til the end, then leaves as quickly as possible.
At his home, sat at a desk with a glass of bourbon and his research paper, Rodney sloppily scratches out many lines. He references his work to a great physicist's published book. Most of his theories have already been disproven, leaving little for him to work with. Ten thousand dollars for experiments that are already worthless. When he falls asleep, his head resting on the desk, all that has been left untouched on the paper is one word, wormhole.
***
"We're bored now. Ever since you started showing us your crappy childhood, our own hells have seem tedious. They lack any entertainment value. We want to know more about your life. Like how did your parents and their taking art away from you change you into the pissy guy you are now." Slapping girl said all this while shaking Rodney's shoulders to wake him up.
"Wha... what, I'm up, I'm up. Hey, who are you?" Rodney's face shows bewilderment. Even the tacky red lights of the room fail to remind him that he's in hell now.
"I'm the girl who swatted your head when you were making up all that bullshit about guiding us to our salvation even though you're just a cheating egotistical tattle-tale." She drags him to his feet and outside the room, leading him back to the smelly hell with the bad blood splattered decor.
"Excuse me? Tattle-tale? What are we, five?" He could really use some coffee, nothing's making sense. Suddenly a mug of coffee appears in front of him. He goes to take a sip but then notices how muddy it is, and the squirmy worms swimming in it. "That's disgusting. Oh well." He chugs down the coffee and chews merrily on the worms, caffeine beginning to power through his nerves. "Hockey. That's right, this is hell." The woman looks at him oddly as she pulls him over to a crowd of tired souls. "H E double hockey sticks... never mind. What's this about? I thought I told you guys to go find your own copy of Hades' Home Videos."
The old kook from before sauters forward. "Our pain seems to be diminished. The guilt I formerly had over much of my actions in life now seem minor in face of your pathetic memories. We all wish to experience more of your weak-driven world."
"Is that so?" Rodney turns to each soul and sees in all of their eyes the same thing, anticipation. "Alright. Fine." A train cart appears out of red thin ammonia flavored air. "All aboard the Rodney Express!" They happily file into the seats, Rodney taking the front car. "We're going to take the quick road and I'll kindly point out the sights. If your neighbor shows any interest in a particular scene, gently push them out of the fast moving vehicle. Everyone ready? Good, 'cause here we go!" The train begins moving at seventy miles an hour, up and down hills, jerking all the way.
"On your left is myself as a thirteen month old, crawling around the room. Notice how my father turns his head away as I tumble down those blessed stairs. To your right, me at age three watching my mother get hit by my dad. As he will do often in the future he leans down to me to say that 'Men need to keep a handle on their women'. There, up ahead. Seven years old, reading from a science for toddlers book. I have a bit of a lisp from the fight I joined in during first grade. My wise pop told me that fists solve everything. So of course my little mind assumed that this also applied to problems in sharing toys during recess. Coming around the bend you'll see my twelve year old self diligently playing Beethoven on the piano. My mom has ear plugs on, she said she hated the classics, so she never went to any of my recitals. If you'll sight ahead a few feet you'll see me at seventeen getting my first slap by a date. Then another at nineteen. This broad also decided to pour the whole bottle of expensive wine over my head." The train squeals to a stop. "Looks like we've been derailed at the oh so important age of twenty-one."
A blackish yellow cloud hovers, raining sulfuric acid down on them. As their skin erodes, leaving behind red blurry images of the soul, a twenty-one year old male, standing out in the rain, sneezes.
It wasn’t really sulfuric acid that rained on them, but the street was filling up with mud of a fascinating shade of yellow.
“So when will the train start moving again?” The obnoxious young lady ranted again at McKay.
“Oh shut up,” was the politest thing he could say. “I’m 21 here and the love of my life is about to show up and break my heart.”
The young man waits as an equally young woman walks towards him in the dripping rain. She has an umbrella that she doesn’t offer to him. He pulls out a bouquet of flowers he’d protected in his jacket. She sniffs them but refuses to take them. She sighs at his pouting but continues to devastate the poor man. She tells him how things just aren’t working out anymore and how they should see other people. Then she walks away without ever looking back. Dejected the young man watches as another guy comes out from beside a building and wraps his arm around the girl. In the pouring rain, Rodney’s heart was stomped on.
“Yeah wasn’t that nice and emotional, okay lets get going.”
“No wait, what are you doing now? There’s an older woman you’re talking too.”
Rodney blushes but hastily explains. “I know I told you all about that whore I lost my virginity to, well that’s her, so get back in the train…”
“No, I wanted to see you jump out that window-“
“Shut up! Train, now.” Rodney hurries them all in, but the train won’t move. He finds his remote he’d stuffed in his jacket and fast-forwards his life. They can barely see as he grows older and gets in trouble with the government for breaking into secured information. They see him get into a huge argument with his sister over who she’s marrying. Last he spends his days held up in Area 51 backlogging crazy alien technology the SGC finds. The trip to Siberia sees him freezing his bum off and finally in Antarctica he’s seen being a part of an extraordinary project.
Rodney stands up and looks at all the lost souls in the train that still doesn’t have a ceiling. “This changed my life, I’m about to travel to another galaxy where I’ll eventually die and meet all you lovely people. So far nothing you’ve seen has proven I don’t belong in hell unless there’s a law against torturing pathetic people. It’s in Atlantis that I actually make friends and show courage. We’re fighting against the Wraith because they’re trying to kill us. Well, they stole all your lives and shoved you down here. Hopefully I’ll prove myself worthy of existing in peace, as will the rest of you.”
The train moves on stopping in the Atlantis control room.
Stopped in the middle of the control room, the damned souls traipsed off the train. Rodney stood near the gate confused at what time they’d entered. A black cloud crawled through the room and he suddenly knew this moment. He tried to push the people back onto the train not wanting them to see this moment, but Roger Alfred Bobitt appeared and prevented him from moving them. Helplessly Rodney watched himself possibly sacrifice his life to rid Atlantis of the cloud creature. He had always felt that this moment was a fluke in his life as he’d never done anything that was selfless.
“Oh my god, he *fainted*!” The obnoxious girl once again had her say.
“Manly passing out, I swear.” Rodney was a little rattled. More than anything he was surprised by how frantic John Sheppard and the others were when they ran to his body lying on the floor.
Roger catered up next to him. “Your friends care a great deal for you.” Rodney could only nod. Looking each and every soul in the eye, the devil told them, “This man here did something heroic for others. After seeing how much of a screw up in life he was, it is amazing to view him doing something good. Think back, was there ever a time that any of you did something nice for the people you cared about? Find inside yourself the good.”
“Are you done? Really, sweet speech and all, but this is my tour. I was showing them that their pathetic lives couldn’t have been worse than mine, so they have to deserve out of this hell, excuse me … HELL. Anyways, why did you have to show them this? It wasn’t exactly my best, I mean I’ve saved these people plenty more times. And I’m no hero, so don’t paint a skewed picture for these numbskulls-“
“Rodney? Is that you? I mean, I’m not dreaming right?”
“John?!”
“John? What are you doing here?”
“In the infirmary?”
“Wait, where am I? Where’s Beelzebub? He was right here, and the lost souls were here too.”
“Rodney what the heck are you talking about? A little bit ago you were lying in that bed then you were gone. Carson said a black cloud swept you up.”
“Really? I was in hell, I guess. There were all these lost souls that got sent to hell because of the Wraith. Roger wanted me to clean house for him.”
“Who’s Roger?”
“The Devil, he had me taking the souls on a tour of my miserable life. Somehow I was supposed to convince them to stop dwelling on all their past guilt. I guess I was successful, because now I’m here. Am I alive?”
“God I hope so. Well you feel substantial.”
“Oh will you stop hugging me.”
“What, do I have cooties now?”
“You’re just getting too emotional for me.”
“Rodney?”
“Liz, hey guess what? I’m back from hell.”
“Oh and he got a cool t-shirt too. Okay, more of a black robe but still.”
“Much better than poor Daniel when he be descending.”
“Carson, hey. I think I ascended, you know up to living from hell.”
“Well I’m glad you’re back laddie, really I am, we missed you.”
“Oh god McKay, is that you. Teyla look! Rodney’s back.”
“We are glad to see you alive once again Rodney. Aiden, quit it, put your tongue back in your mouth.”
“Sorry, I’m just so happy. Aren’t you happy Sir?”
“Very.”
“This has been one heck of a day. First we thought we lost you and then you’re back again.”
“Elizabeth don’t cry. Oh here, I’m happy to be back. Hell stunk.”
Author: libra_traveller
Rating: R
Warnings: Character Death, Satire, Assisted Suicide
Summary: Rodney McKay dies and goes to hell. While there he's given a mission to help free the souls of the Wraith victims.
Author's Note: The beginning of this story is really only a means to an end. I had to find something horrible enough for Rodney to do that would land him in hell without ruining his character.
While on a planet, the team finds a girl who is slowly dying with excruciating pain. They make a call back to Atlantis to speak to Doctor Beckett. He comes through the gate with medical supplies. He discovers that there is nothing he can do. She is dying from a fatal disease, and it is too late to cure it. Beckett as well as the rest of the team minus Rodney McKay, leave the building the girl is residing in. Rodney did not wish to leave the girl to die alone.
"Your name is McKay, yes?" Rodney nods. The girl continues. "My name is Amelia. My family will not help me. I do not wish to die this way. It is my own personal belief that someone should die in peace at their own choosing, so that they may leave this world whole in spirit to travel to the next life. Will you help me?"
Rodney McKay was shocked by what he heard. "You want me to help you die?!" He never liked the thought of assisted suicide.
"Please. Doctor Beckett says there is no chance for my recovery, but that I may linger on for days."
"Is there any words that should be spoken before you die?" He asked this to distract her.
"I do not believe so. What do you say on your world?" Uncomfortable, Rodney began to explain about eulogies during funerals, and how people would write wills before they die. Inwardly he hoped that someone would come back into the room, and he would lose his chance to act. "Is there any markers, you said you bury the dead?"
"We have stones we place at the head of a grave. Often they say R.I.P. It means Rest In Peace."
"That is nice." Amelia began coughing strongly and her body began to shake. Between coughs she begged Rodney to end her pain. "Please, before it gets worse. Before this illness destroys my body, and my spirit."
He did not know how he could even help her let go. Carson had removed his medical supplies. Then Rodney remembers the epinephrine shot he carries with him. It would speed up her heart rate. He gave her one last look to ask if she was sure. She nodded slightly, her eyes pleading. Looking towards the door to be sure no one would walk in, Rodney opened up the packet. He expertly inserted the drug into her system. For a few seconds, there was no visible reaction. Then her pulse sped up and she started taking quicker breaths. For a moment her eyes looked panicked, then Rodney gripped her hand and she held on tight. Rodney began to speak. "Amelia, a girl I just met, and yet already you show trust in me. Not a desperate plea, but a certainty that I could help you. You have strong beliefs that no one can take from you. Amelia, go into this other world at the time of your choosing." As her eyes began to close and her breathing faltered, Rodney whispered these last words. "May you rest in peace, Amelia." The grip in his hand slackened. She was gone.
He did not know what to do. He had just assisted a suicide. If he were back on Earth, he would be thrown in prison maybe even be given a death sentence. What would her family do? Just then, Amelia's brother came in to say his last farewell. He stopped, seeing his sister dead, and the empty needle that lay on a table beside her. He turned and walked out. Rodney, deep in thought and the beginnings of grief, did not notice. A few minutes later, the brother returned, with a dagger.
Rodney heard a sound and turned. A man came up with a blade and shoved it into his chest before Rodney could move away. Rodney screamed for help. Carson Beckett and John Sheppard rushed in. Amelia's brother had vanished. Carson reached Rodney's side just in time to catch him as he passed out.
***
Later in the Atlantis infirmary, Dr. Beckett was explaining to Doctor Weir, Rodney's condition. Though the cut did not cause very much damage, the blade had been poisoned. The people on the planet claimed they knew of no antidote. Rodney McKay was dying, fast.
John Sheppard sat in a chair next to the bed Rodney lay in. Rodney had yet to wake up, according to the doctor, he never will. Even if Carson could keep Rodney alive indefinitely in the hope that someday a cure would be available...damn him...Rodney made sure to put a DNR note in his file. Do not resuscitate. Dammit, that shouldn't ever count when in another galaxy where miraculous events could occur. Why did he have to help that girl, because John knows that's what he was doing. Rodney would never just kill someone, not even out of mercy. The girl had to have asked him to do it, pleaded even until he broke. Rodney was never the cold-hearted person people made him out to be. He cared for people, perhaps too much, which is why he always tried to hide it from others. He thought it was a weakness, his heart. Now that same loving heart is slowing coming to its end. John reaches out to Rodney's hand, tentatively stroking it. He leans in slightly lifting the hand up to his mouth and giving it a tender kiss. Lowering his hand back to the bed, John whispers one word, bye.
Aiden Ford walks over to the now vacated chair after passing by John. Aiden does not sit, but stands near the bed looking upon Rodney's face. A good friend, though time has been short and mostly hectic. He was a hero when they need one, though always making sarcastic jokes when he felt at a loss. Some people found this uncaring, but it lightened the mood, gave others a chance to breathe and then get back to concentrating on solutions. A genius, he never lied about that. Many of the crew thought he was bragging when he called himself that. He was just looking for understanding. So much knowledge in his head, and people expecting him to always find and deliver the right information, during a crisis nevertheless. He must have felt so lonely at times, his mind the only thing people respected him for. Yet it is his spirit that will live on. He was a great man.
At last it is Teyla's turn. She always hated this part of death, the lingering, the goodbyes. No words that she could think of could express how much this man's life has made an impact on her own. A team-member, a new found friend. A colleague, the most favored part of their relationship. He respected her, trusted her, and looked to her for guidance as much as everyone else looked to him. Not much of a fighter in the beginning, but he wanted to learn, and he improved greatly over such a short time in their acquaintance. He will be sorely missed. She turns away to walk back to her quarters where she can begin to grieve in silence.
Elizabeth Weir waits by the infirmary doors, watching as the last member of Rodney's team walks away. Another member of the colony is almost gone. To some he is already lost. Slowly gliding towards the bed, Elizabeth relunctantly gazes down at him. She only met him in the last stages of pulling together the Atlantis mission. For the most part, Elizabeth had avoided Antartica, simply receiving detailed reports and sending memos back and forth. She had heard a great deal about him from Colonel Sam Carter, little of it good. Of course that was because she had asked about his personality, there was already plenty paper about his intelligence. Weary of any nasty greeting, she had avoided him the first day of her arrival. The second day, Rodney actually came and found her. Expecting him to jump into requests for more personnel or money, or complaints about how people were running things, she had been surprised when he just wanted to be the first to give her a tour of the place. As they walked, he excitedly babbled on about all the new discoveries and possibilities this place could bring, and what they may find if they actually reached Atlantis. His enthusiasm is what helped her to come to grips with her new assignment. He made the place sound so amazing, that she wished to experience it for herself. Atlantis will be empty without the energy and soul he brought to the place. The city had become her home, and now she is losing another member of her family.
Dr. Carson Beckett is in his office, staring morosely at his computer. He hates this feeling of impotency, with no way of saving his friend. A doctor's worse nightmare is to lose a patient, but to lose a friend too... that's hell. An odd shiver crawls down his spine and a shadow comes over the room. Turning to look out the door, he sees a strange reddish-black glow emmanating from Rodney's bed. He rushes into the room towards where Elizabeth Weir is standing. Her face is stricken and confused. Whatever is happening, is beyond alien, it seems mystical, wrapping itself around their friend, almost absorbing him. An explosion of black light shoots out, blinding them. Slowly vision returns and they watch as a black glowing being slowly sinks through the bed and floor, vanishing. Rodney's body is gone. Looking towards the monitor, Carson notices something he missed before, Rodney had flat-lined and there's a loud keening noise filling the room. Numbly, Carson turns the machine off. Turning to look at Elizabeth their eyes meet, and similar thoughts dawdle through their heads. A flashy show so like an ascension as mentioned in reports, but not white light, black. Rodney did not become a higher being. What if he became a lower one? Carson shudders and turns away, removing Rodney's clothes from the bed as well as the sheets. Elizabeth slowly walks out of the infirmary to the control deck, from there she'll let everyone know. She will tell them that he is gone, but gone where? Not to heaven, that's for sure, but to hell? Rodney? Never. He was a good person, she knows that, it makes little sense. Just one more mystery, another addition to the long list of things that went wrong in the Pegasus Galaxy.
***
Oww, Owwww, Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Shit, this hurts. What the fuck is going on?!!!! I thought I was dead. This is a lot of pain to experience after dying!!! I so wish I could go back and shove this information into my Philosophy Professor's face. It seems Death hurts more than dying!!!! And the color scheme of this place, man! Black on black on black on black. I never noticed there were that many shades of black. And not a one of them pretty either. Eugh. And what's that smell?!!! It smells like a cross between cow guts and disposable tampons. I could never take that smell, that's why I refused to ever become a garbage man regardless of what my father said about my worth in the job department.
I think my senses are finally getting used to that smell. Now I can finally hear the hideous screaming coming from all corners. There's also these weird red lights around what I suppose are people. They're like those terrible strobe lights you find in clubs. Pitiful. If this is Hell, I think it needs a new decorator. The floor is filthy!!! Doesn't these devil-things know that the only scary floor is a clean one?!! I expect there's no food here either. That's good. I've always Hated food, but my damn hypoglycemia guaranteed I had to eat certain foods, and I had to trick my mind into enjoying it. There is this acrid taste on my tongue, must be something in the air. What they do, throw ammonia mist into these people's faces? Oh please, like we didn't learn that trick centuries ago.
Oh and where's the ceiling??? Don't tell me they could never afford an actual roof, please. Oh man, I hear it now. I completely change my opinion of this place. It seems they did learn how to torture mankind. There it is, that godawful Opera music!! So damn high pitched, if my ears weren't already ringing, my ear drums would have popped. Oh, I think I can see the walls down. Looks like the inside of a cavern, typical. Blood spattered in hoky designs. Someone might expect that it was caused by the spray of bodies being torn apart, but its too chaotic, and not random at all. I'd guess someone tore out their own blood and smeared it on the walls. Probably the only thing to do down here.
"Oh will you shut up already. It's not like I've got anyone around here to help me. This place is just getting too crowded. I don't have time to monitor everyone's punishments. They've all devised their own tortures and they don't serve any purpose. How is the soul supposed to heal if all it does is review past guilts over and over again?"
"What? So you're saying you've over-booked? Then why am I here?"
"I want to hire you. You prove you can conquer your own inner demons without any outside intervention and I'll let you help and free as many of these people as you can."
"And why would I want to do that?"
"They're the missing souls the Wraith separated from the spirits of their victims."
***
"You want me to what?!! I don't think so. I mean, yeah, I feel bad and all for all these souls, but really, I don't think I can help them. As you said, I have a lot of inner demons, and I'm not capable of conquering them. So how could I possibly help them. No, just send me on, to whatever, you've got the wrong guy."
"Oh, I don't think so. I'll just leave you to your own devices. Eventually you'll see things my way. Ba bye. Enjoy re-living your life for an eternity or three."
"Wait! You can't just leave me here like this. The place stinks to high heaven!"
"Oh that, I very much doubt."
***
"Dammit, just when I was getting to know him. I always wondered what the devil would be like. Had a few choice words to say to him. No wonder he vamooshed. So Let's see. I'm suppose to delve into my inner demons. What would he choose, top to bottom or bottom to top. Guess I better start when I was a child. Wait, that makes no sense. Hey, I can finally see what people really thought of me when I was a baby. Okey-dokey. How do I get this thing to work. HeY! Devil-dude, where's my REMOTE??? Oh thanks. So tele, or hmm, maybe a walk-in closet type look-see. Hmm. Yep, there's a bed. Those look like nurses. Hmm, oh hey, there's my mom. Oh doesn't she look ugly like that. She doesn't look too happy either. Just-pain, or is she really mad she's having me, like she always said to my face..."
Caroline looks up. Thinking she sees a creepy man with an ugly demeanor she yells for hubby. "Quentin!!!"
Quentin runs in from just talking to the nurses. "Honey, what the hell is the matter. I was here a second ago."
"Bastard. Don't talk to me like that while I'm having your child. I tried to divorce you, but oh no, you had to seduce me all over again, and we wound up with *this*. You'll probably just leave me like you did before, and I'll be left to take care of Rodney and Sara all by myself."
"Rodney. So that's the name you decided on. Sounds kinda wimpy to me." Quentin began walking away, bored with his wife's prattle.
"Go Ahead!! Walk away, you always do. Rodney *needs* a Father Figure but you obviously aren't man enough to be that person. You asshole. Get away, you would just turn him into the mean and ugly thing that you are today. My son will be Nothing like you. He will have a heart. He will know love no matter what you tell him!! I will love him, you will just pretend you do. Trying to twist him into your preconceived notion of how he should be!!! Ahhhh, dammit, get the nurse I think he's coming. My baby boy! Feisty! Love you Rodney, Love you so much!!!"
Rodney quickly presses the pause button. "She always told me my father was an ass, I don't think I ever believed her. I miss her. I really do. She loved me. Even before I was born. Wow. Okay, button two."
On a rug is a cute adorable baby boy playing with various child-toys. He looks very happy, and thrilled at each any every discovery he makes. Near him, on a sofa sits his mother, fondly gazing at her child.
Rodney tries to catch the tears that have begun falling down his cheeks. Embarrassed he presses number four. He sees himself older, and there's his mom, exhausted but happy. Rodney gives up and drops to the floor, openly crying with happy tears. His mom really loved him. "Every word out of my Dad's mouth was a lie. She loved me. She really cared for me. I never realized how much she did for me." Rodney lies down on the carpet watching his younger self. He starts to openly sob for the lost of his mother. He never knew how to grieve for her after she killed herself. "I thought she died not knowing I loved her. I wish I could tell her now."
Unaware of his presence, Rodney continues to cry. Roger Alfred Bobitt slowly guards Rodney, watching as a soul finally heals, something he has not seen in tens of thousands of years. This is the one. He will free them. "I know he can. I wasn't sure, but now I am. Doctor Rodney Francis McKay is the savior of the universe. God bless him. And bless the Atlanteans."
Lord Jesus Christ walks up to Roger and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You found him didn't you. I told you he was the one."
Roger, "Always have to be right don't you."
Jesus, "Not always. But in this, I was absolutely positive. Look at him. Look in his face. He's practically glowing. Wait, nope, he's really glowing. See that white light that's encompassing the black shadows around him. The red is disappearing, oh my, see he kinda looks like obsidian, you know pure black, with an inner reflecting light?"
Roger, "I see it. All he has to do is get those people with the red glow around them to make the same change. Not an easy task, but he's capable of it. And he's quite tenacious, if anyone can get a group of people to shut up and listen, Rodney can."
There lying on the floor of hell itself, a man surrounded in a pure black glow, looks up into the infinite dark ceiling. A joyous smile covers his whole face and is evident in the way his body is more relaxed than ever in life. Rodney McKay is the first man to feel the warmth of heaven while residing in hell.
"The power of love. How cliche. And yet, that has to be why I can't stop smiling. I'm in H E L L for God's sake! Or the devil's? Anyways, I shouldn't be smiling, but I can't help it. My mom loved me. She LOVED me. ME!!!" Rodney jumps up and starts running shouting 'Love' at the top of his lungs. As he crosses the paths of tortured souls, heads pause and stare at this freak of nature.
"Love, love, love, loving mommy, love, love, love." Rodney has his arms stretched out into the air and is swirling like mad. The people around him starting to get scared, expecting him to explode.
Someone, a man, speaks up for the first time in centuries. "Someone has truly lost it down here. I thought the guy chewing on his own intestines was crazy, but this, this singing, it's Insanity!"
Another person, this time a woman, finds her voice. "Poor fellow. I wonder what made him snap?"
This statement seems to grab Rodney's attention. He finally notices the people around him and frowns. "Don't you get it? I'm Happy. H A P P Y, happy. Joyous? Thrilled? Cheerful? NOT upset?!! What's wrong with you people? Never seen a guy smile before?" Rodney, getting irritated, storms past the gathering crowd. He begins muttering to himself. 'Stupid souls, stuck in hell for thousands of years and what? their memories collapse? Can't even remember what it's like to be happy...' This thought stops him, and he turns around suddenly, his eyes almost glazed. "That's it isn't it? You've all spent so much time dwelling on everything that went wrong in your lives that you can't remember any of the good. Well, fine. I'm going to make you remember. We're all going to have a field trip through each of your lives. So who thinks they have the worst memory of all man-kind? Well don't jump up all at once."
"Why must you bother us? I for one am perfectly happy detailing each and every moment of travesty." A old, senile man says this with a look of disdain at the newly damned.
Rodney shrugs at him. "Yes, well you're a kook. Okay, how's this. Raise your hand if you've ever killed somebody out of malice and still don't feel guilty about it?" A few people raised their hands, their red light a sickly yellow. "Alright then, you people can't come on this field-trip. I'd say everybody who's life was sucked out by a Wraith, come with me, except I don't believe all of those people can possibly deserve redemption. So, everyone with a low self-esteem and the guilt-ridden who have never raped or murdered, kidnapped, abused, or tortured people as a hobby, walk this way."
A group of wary individuals walked, hopped, and crawled towards him. Rodney began walking them in a circle, pointing this way and that, as if he were a tour-guide. "Welcome to Hell. Today we will begin our trip towards Salvation. Let me introduce myself. I'm a selfish arrogant bastardized know-it-all. I like to insult women who are smarter than me. I litter and on my home planet I got quite the thrill out of running red lights and then showing my Military ID to the police who pulled me over. I profess to being a genius when I in fact cheated on the MENSA tests. I lost my virginity to a hooker, and then snuck out the window of the motel while she was in the shower, without paying her. The biggest crime I ever committed was hacking into the top-secret government documents of my country and then threatening the military that I was going to sell the information to their insurance agents. This landed me my very own top secret job that led to me being in this very galaxy."
A young twenty-something girl jogged up to him and smacked him across the head. "If we're travelling to our salvation, why is our guide such a flaming ass-hole." Rodney turns to her aghast. He rubs his pained head and continues walking trying to place as much distance between her and himself.
"I WAS not finished. I love animals and was a strong activist against the mistreatment of animals. I had a kitty named Tycho that I absolutely adored. I'm a strong believer that the weak should be protected. Sure this stems from the fact that I am one of those weak people in need of protection... Anywho. I don't consider myself a hero, but if someone needs help and I can do something for them, at least give them company, I will. I do not hate children. I'm just not very good around them even though they seem drawn to me. I'm probably just an odd challenge for them. I'm no action-hero, but I try to work against forces with evil intent. It's all about strategy and fairy-tales, good always conquers evil." By the time Rodney finished, the hell-hole these people were residing in, now resembles a dratty apartment building. The room is furnished with sickly blue carpeting and striped couches. The walls are covered in too cheerful flowery wall-paper. A fridge in the kitchen is covered with a sheets of paper with assignments written in small neat letters with a grade written next to it. A record.
Rodney sits down in a chair, looking quite glum. "So this is my home. This is where I grew to be the awful man I am today. I know I am not a good person, but if don't deserve to rot my soul away over every horrific event of my life. If I am worthy of an eternity of peace... then all of you are too. I will prove to each and every one of you that you have love inside of you, that someone loved you during your tenure in this universe. We will all rest in peace when I am done."
Roger shakes his head. "Christ, does he really think it'll be that easy or is he just willing to spend all of eternity living through other people's nightmares?"
Jesus who is now lounging in a red stoned throne, that he dusted off before sitting, answers him. "Determined I suppose. Of course he doesn't look very happy. I think he realized that he still has to relive the rest of his life, and now in front of others. He sure is in for a surprise. Granted many of the people in his life disliked him, but he had respect that I think he never noticed."
Roger plops down on to the floor and pulls his knees up to his chin. "Sure, whatever you say. I hope he can take it. Especially when he figures out exactly how many people he knew considered him 'the idiot'." They both turn to watch the events unfold.
***
Sitting at a dining-room table is a boy of nine years. He has a series of textbooks and notebooks arranged across the table. He's writing slowly and meticulously, the correct answers to problems. He doesn't always know the answers to a question, but he learned early on to find the answer in the back of the book and then work the problem backwards. Having skipped two grades, he has a great deal to catch up on, which explains the extra homework. While he's working, an older man comes through the side door. He places his briefcase on top of the boys papers without a look, stretching his hand out impatiently. The boy quickly shuffles through his back pack for his graded work and hands it to his father. The man walks to the fridge picking up a marker. He takes the grades and writes it on the paper taped to the fridge. At every 'A' he seems pleased. Every 'B' he sniffs. Every 'C' he snarls. When he comes across one 'D', he drops the papers to the floor and storms back over to the boy. He picks him up by the collar of his shirt and drags him into the living room where the boy's mother is taking a nap. The man roughly shakes his wife's shoulder, waking her. He proceeds to tell her about Roddy's humiliating grades. He sees it as proof the boy shouldn't have been placed in grades ahead of his level. The woman turns to Rodney, still in his father's fierce grip. She asks him what assignment he received the poor grade in. He mutters regretfully, 'Art'. His father laughs derisively. The woman begs Rodney to be more specific. Rodney proceeds to tell them the assignment. He was supposed to paint a self-portrait of his 'inner self'. He received a 'D' for unorginality and a lack of any creative style. According to his teacher, all of his style choices were too precise to represent the human psyche. This was a project he had worked on for two weeks. He had been very proud of it, believing it to truly symbolize himself. Now all he can believe is one of two choices. He either sucks at painting and his ideas didn't show through. Or he isn't much of a human-being. His father, Quentin, releases Rodney, telling him to go finish his homework. His parents conference over this dilemna and decide that they'll just have to ask the principle to allow Rodney to abstain from taking art classes as he's too busy for such abstract concepts.
***
Rodney McKay paces the hallway, all the damned souls watching him warily. Finally he turns to them, "So I'm not artistic."
The woman who had slapped him earlier, walks over to one of the doors in the hallway. "Is this your room?" She pushes open the door and stares in open-mouthed wonder at all the pictures and drawings that litter the walls of the room. "Where did you come across these? They're beautiful. Those people, so realistic. And their eyes, I can see into them." There are separate drawings of groups of children sitting in class, eatting in a cafeteria, and jumping rope on a playground.
Rodney slips into the room and gazes upon some of his old artwork. "Oh. I did those. They're not that great really. Though I guess after spending centuries with only the devil's decor, anything has to look good." He lovingly caresses a photo placed on his desk. There had been a moment, a day after his counselors had declared him gifted enough to be placed ahead, that his parents had seemed happy. They congratulated themselves on having a special, intelligent child. They were sleeping comfortingly in each other's arms on the sofa. Rodney had taken a photograph of them in black and white that he later developed.
"Excuse me, but I use to make a living off of selling artwork, and these drawings could make me a rich bundle. Your 'teacher' must have been insane, or jealous, when they gave you such a low grade. Did you keep that painting? Can we see it?" An old woman looks expectantly at Rodney.
Rodney minutely shakes his head. "I shredded it. It was just a collage of my happiest moments. Nothing special." Rodney sits down on his plain blue bed sheets. There are no stuffed animals on his bed, his father having thrown them out, saying that Rodney needed to start behaving like a man.
A few of the souls yawn, bored. "Is there a point to all of this? I mean, I'm sorry no one appreciated your talent as an artist, but what does this have to do with us?" A young man sits on the desk, legs sprawled outwards.
"Oh so, so sorry. Yeah, I can see how this must be worse than you watching your mother strangle your sister over and over again." Rodney huffs.
"Hey, how did you know that about me?" The young man had jumped up and is now standing in front of Rodney.
Rodney, looking bewildered, can only shrug. "I don't know how, I just seem to know what all of you keep reliving. I also didn't plan for any of you to watch this moment of my life. I'm going to take a nap, if it's alright with Devil Dick over there. You guys can just go lounge in your own hells for a bit." He stretches across his bed, covering himself in the child-size blanket. His feet hang off the end of the bed.
"Yeah, fine." The young woman leads the crowd out of Rodney's home. "Who knew the road to salvation was so senseless?"
Black haze, swirls of white light flickering. Looking down is a stretch of pavement that a brown-haired man jogs across. He wears gray sweats and a white head band. His somewhat fit body sweats in the glaring sun. He stops and bends over gripping his knees taking huge deep breaths. A flick of his wrist shows a watch, the time is two pm. Walking on the sidewalk the rest of the way to a house, he calculates how many calories he should have lost from that exercise. The house is a common suburban home, but inside the walls and furniture are too neat, too clean. The rooms hold an odd balance between sparsity and extravagance with only a spattering of well chosen paintings and pottery. The man skips into his room without a glance at either. He returns later after a shower, in a black suit with a stylish tie. Leaving the home he gets in the car and drives to a nearby university physics building. An award ceremony is being set up. There's a crowd of people surrounding a table in front of the doors to the auditorium. He waits in line, checking out the other celebrants along with their friends and family. He seems to be the only who's come alone. At his turn he picks up a name tag. He receives a disapproving look when he announces that he has no guests with him. The auditorium is crowded and loud with good humor. Finding a place up in the back where few reside, he seats himself. Eventually the house lights dim and the Dean of the College of Science walks on stage. After a dull introduction, he finally gives out the commendations.
"Rodney Frances McKay? He has shown an amazing deal of concentration and skill in his research of Particle Physics for Dark Matter. We are awarding him a $10,000 grant to continue his work as well as a recommendation to our government's Science Academy." Rodney McKay walks up stage and shakes the man's hand. From the audience he gains some polite clapping, a far cry from the whistling and shouting others received. He stays til the end, then leaves as quickly as possible.
At his home, sat at a desk with a glass of bourbon and his research paper, Rodney sloppily scratches out many lines. He references his work to a great physicist's published book. Most of his theories have already been disproven, leaving little for him to work with. Ten thousand dollars for experiments that are already worthless. When he falls asleep, his head resting on the desk, all that has been left untouched on the paper is one word, wormhole.
***
"We're bored now. Ever since you started showing us your crappy childhood, our own hells have seem tedious. They lack any entertainment value. We want to know more about your life. Like how did your parents and their taking art away from you change you into the pissy guy you are now." Slapping girl said all this while shaking Rodney's shoulders to wake him up.
"Wha... what, I'm up, I'm up. Hey, who are you?" Rodney's face shows bewilderment. Even the tacky red lights of the room fail to remind him that he's in hell now.
"I'm the girl who swatted your head when you were making up all that bullshit about guiding us to our salvation even though you're just a cheating egotistical tattle-tale." She drags him to his feet and outside the room, leading him back to the smelly hell with the bad blood splattered decor.
"Excuse me? Tattle-tale? What are we, five?" He could really use some coffee, nothing's making sense. Suddenly a mug of coffee appears in front of him. He goes to take a sip but then notices how muddy it is, and the squirmy worms swimming in it. "That's disgusting. Oh well." He chugs down the coffee and chews merrily on the worms, caffeine beginning to power through his nerves. "Hockey. That's right, this is hell." The woman looks at him oddly as she pulls him over to a crowd of tired souls. "H E double hockey sticks... never mind. What's this about? I thought I told you guys to go find your own copy of Hades' Home Videos."
The old kook from before sauters forward. "Our pain seems to be diminished. The guilt I formerly had over much of my actions in life now seem minor in face of your pathetic memories. We all wish to experience more of your weak-driven world."
"Is that so?" Rodney turns to each soul and sees in all of their eyes the same thing, anticipation. "Alright. Fine." A train cart appears out of red thin ammonia flavored air. "All aboard the Rodney Express!" They happily file into the seats, Rodney taking the front car. "We're going to take the quick road and I'll kindly point out the sights. If your neighbor shows any interest in a particular scene, gently push them out of the fast moving vehicle. Everyone ready? Good, 'cause here we go!" The train begins moving at seventy miles an hour, up and down hills, jerking all the way.
"On your left is myself as a thirteen month old, crawling around the room. Notice how my father turns his head away as I tumble down those blessed stairs. To your right, me at age three watching my mother get hit by my dad. As he will do often in the future he leans down to me to say that 'Men need to keep a handle on their women'. There, up ahead. Seven years old, reading from a science for toddlers book. I have a bit of a lisp from the fight I joined in during first grade. My wise pop told me that fists solve everything. So of course my little mind assumed that this also applied to problems in sharing toys during recess. Coming around the bend you'll see my twelve year old self diligently playing Beethoven on the piano. My mom has ear plugs on, she said she hated the classics, so she never went to any of my recitals. If you'll sight ahead a few feet you'll see me at seventeen getting my first slap by a date. Then another at nineteen. This broad also decided to pour the whole bottle of expensive wine over my head." The train squeals to a stop. "Looks like we've been derailed at the oh so important age of twenty-one."
A blackish yellow cloud hovers, raining sulfuric acid down on them. As their skin erodes, leaving behind red blurry images of the soul, a twenty-one year old male, standing out in the rain, sneezes.
It wasn’t really sulfuric acid that rained on them, but the street was filling up with mud of a fascinating shade of yellow.
“So when will the train start moving again?” The obnoxious young lady ranted again at McKay.
“Oh shut up,” was the politest thing he could say. “I’m 21 here and the love of my life is about to show up and break my heart.”
The young man waits as an equally young woman walks towards him in the dripping rain. She has an umbrella that she doesn’t offer to him. He pulls out a bouquet of flowers he’d protected in his jacket. She sniffs them but refuses to take them. She sighs at his pouting but continues to devastate the poor man. She tells him how things just aren’t working out anymore and how they should see other people. Then she walks away without ever looking back. Dejected the young man watches as another guy comes out from beside a building and wraps his arm around the girl. In the pouring rain, Rodney’s heart was stomped on.
“Yeah wasn’t that nice and emotional, okay lets get going.”
“No wait, what are you doing now? There’s an older woman you’re talking too.”
Rodney blushes but hastily explains. “I know I told you all about that whore I lost my virginity to, well that’s her, so get back in the train…”
“No, I wanted to see you jump out that window-“
“Shut up! Train, now.” Rodney hurries them all in, but the train won’t move. He finds his remote he’d stuffed in his jacket and fast-forwards his life. They can barely see as he grows older and gets in trouble with the government for breaking into secured information. They see him get into a huge argument with his sister over who she’s marrying. Last he spends his days held up in Area 51 backlogging crazy alien technology the SGC finds. The trip to Siberia sees him freezing his bum off and finally in Antarctica he’s seen being a part of an extraordinary project.
Rodney stands up and looks at all the lost souls in the train that still doesn’t have a ceiling. “This changed my life, I’m about to travel to another galaxy where I’ll eventually die and meet all you lovely people. So far nothing you’ve seen has proven I don’t belong in hell unless there’s a law against torturing pathetic people. It’s in Atlantis that I actually make friends and show courage. We’re fighting against the Wraith because they’re trying to kill us. Well, they stole all your lives and shoved you down here. Hopefully I’ll prove myself worthy of existing in peace, as will the rest of you.”
The train moves on stopping in the Atlantis control room.
Stopped in the middle of the control room, the damned souls traipsed off the train. Rodney stood near the gate confused at what time they’d entered. A black cloud crawled through the room and he suddenly knew this moment. He tried to push the people back onto the train not wanting them to see this moment, but Roger Alfred Bobitt appeared and prevented him from moving them. Helplessly Rodney watched himself possibly sacrifice his life to rid Atlantis of the cloud creature. He had always felt that this moment was a fluke in his life as he’d never done anything that was selfless.
“Oh my god, he *fainted*!” The obnoxious girl once again had her say.
“Manly passing out, I swear.” Rodney was a little rattled. More than anything he was surprised by how frantic John Sheppard and the others were when they ran to his body lying on the floor.
Roger catered up next to him. “Your friends care a great deal for you.” Rodney could only nod. Looking each and every soul in the eye, the devil told them, “This man here did something heroic for others. After seeing how much of a screw up in life he was, it is amazing to view him doing something good. Think back, was there ever a time that any of you did something nice for the people you cared about? Find inside yourself the good.”
“Are you done? Really, sweet speech and all, but this is my tour. I was showing them that their pathetic lives couldn’t have been worse than mine, so they have to deserve out of this hell, excuse me … HELL. Anyways, why did you have to show them this? It wasn’t exactly my best, I mean I’ve saved these people plenty more times. And I’m no hero, so don’t paint a skewed picture for these numbskulls-“
“Rodney? Is that you? I mean, I’m not dreaming right?”
“John?!”
“John? What are you doing here?”
“In the infirmary?”
“Wait, where am I? Where’s Beelzebub? He was right here, and the lost souls were here too.”
“Rodney what the heck are you talking about? A little bit ago you were lying in that bed then you were gone. Carson said a black cloud swept you up.”
“Really? I was in hell, I guess. There were all these lost souls that got sent to hell because of the Wraith. Roger wanted me to clean house for him.”
“Who’s Roger?”
“The Devil, he had me taking the souls on a tour of my miserable life. Somehow I was supposed to convince them to stop dwelling on all their past guilt. I guess I was successful, because now I’m here. Am I alive?”
“God I hope so. Well you feel substantial.”
“Oh will you stop hugging me.”
“What, do I have cooties now?”
“You’re just getting too emotional for me.”
“Rodney?”
“Liz, hey guess what? I’m back from hell.”
“Oh and he got a cool t-shirt too. Okay, more of a black robe but still.”
“Much better than poor Daniel when he be descending.”
“Carson, hey. I think I ascended, you know up to living from hell.”
“Well I’m glad you’re back laddie, really I am, we missed you.”
“Oh god McKay, is that you. Teyla look! Rodney’s back.”
“We are glad to see you alive once again Rodney. Aiden, quit it, put your tongue back in your mouth.”
“Sorry, I’m just so happy. Aren’t you happy Sir?”
“Very.”
“This has been one heck of a day. First we thought we lost you and then you’re back again.”
“Elizabeth don’t cry. Oh here, I’m happy to be back. Hell stunk.”