Fic: In the Family Way (1/11)

[rusty_armour]

Title: In the Family Way (1/11)
Author: Rusty Armour
Pairing: McShep, Beckett/Other
Summary: Some are born into families; others create their own.
Word Count: 4,221
Category: Slash, MPreg, AU
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Pretty much everything up to and including season three.
Disclaimer: Thou Shalt Not Steal. Even in the interest of fic. Most of these characters aren't mine. I, uh, borrowed them. Yeah.
Author's Note: I first came up with the idea for this story after my good friend, jackycomelately, recommended No Refunds or Exchanges and I was introduced to the wonderful world of Harlequin AU. I joked that someone should write a Harlequin AU in which McKay is knocked up by Sheppard and then abandoned. I had no intention of writing the story myself, but it was already too late: the evil seed had been planted.

The original concept has changed quite a bit since the story first started incubating in my head, so I'm not sure how much this fic actually resembles a Harlequin anymore. I should also warn people that I've veered a bit from canon. For one thing, my Jeannie is very different from Martin Gero's Jeannie in "McKay and Mrs. Miller". I've also had to ignore certain events from season three. Anyone who's seen "Sunday" and "First Strike" (but especially "Sunday") will know exactly what I'm talking about. *g*

I should also add spoilers for SG-1's season nine and ten episodes, "Beachhead" and "Counterstrike," and point out that I've taken some liberties with events from that show as well.

This story is set around the fifth year of the Atlantis expedition.

For those of you who are interested, you can find the complete version of this
story (broken down into four parts and including the same bad cover art) here on AO3.

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Carson stared at it in fascination and revulsion. He had seen some bloody peculiar things in his time, but this had to be one of the strangest he had ever come across.

The house was festooned with hundreds of red and white Christmas lights that had to be blinding when lit up at night. On the front lawn there was a nativity scene, complete with wise men, shepherds, and even a donkey. Santa and his reindeer were perched precariously on the roof. Rodney took one look at the place and said, "My God, I've gone from Siberia to Scarberia. My personal hell is complete."

Carson looked away from the window. He couldn't be sure about Siberia, but he could think of parts of Glasgow that were closer to hell than Scarborough. Other than the Christmas house of horrors, the number of strip malls and hydro fields seemed to be the only real gripe Rodney had with the place. The surplus of donut shops hadn't bothered him in the least. He had already stopped at Tim Horton's to buy two boxes of Timbits.

"If you hate Scarborough so much why are we here?" Carson asked.

Rodney's cheeks flushed, and the knuckles around the stirring wheel turned white. "I need to check on something."

Carson turned his attention back to the window. "Okay, Rodney."

It was wonderful to feel the sun on his face. After their noisy cramped flights, Carson was desperately craving fresh air. Ignoring Rodney's protests, he had opened his window, allowing some of that air to penetrate the interior of the rental car. Although it was March, and there were still clumps of snow on the yellow lawns, it was an unseasonably warm day.

When Rodney turned on to Hellas Drive, Carson's eyes flicked to his face, but, for once, it wasn't giving anything away. Rodney pulled up to a curb. When the car stopped, Carson unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the door.

"What are you doing?" Rodney demanded. There was a sharp edge to his voice and his eyes had widened. It was a look Carson had become all too familiar with over the past two weeks.

"I'm getting out of the car," Carson said. "As we've stopped, I'm assuming we're here. Wherever that is."

Rodney nodded quickly. "Yeah, we're here, but we're not getting out." His fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on the dashboard. "Look, I…I just want to sit here for a few minutes. Then we can go."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Rodney, where are we and what are we doing here?" he asked, but he wasn't sure if Rodney even heard the question. The man was staring intently at the house across the street. Carson sighed and closed his eyes. If all they were going to do was sit in the car, he'd squeeze in a quick nap.

Carson was just drifting off, when Rodney started shaking his shoulder. Carson opened his eyes and almost laughed when he saw Rodney duck. He craned his neck and spotted a blond woman walking down her driveway to a beige Honda that had definitely seen better days.

"Get down," Rodney hissed, from where he was scrunched down in his seat. Then, when he saw that Carson hadn't moved, he placed a hand on top of his friend's head and pushed him down.

"I don't think she can see us, Rodney, or, at least, she couldn't before you made that subtle attempt to hide," Carson said.

"Oh, God, really?" Rodney's head popped back up again and he peered anxiously out the window. The Honda was pulling out of the driveway and heading up the street.

"Who is she?" Carson asked when he was sure it was safe to talk again.

Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is stupid," he said. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry for dragging you out here." Rodney turned the key in the ignition, and Carson blinked at him in surprise. It wasn't often that he heard Rodney McKay admit to being wrong, let alone apologize. Whoever this woman was she had shaken him up badly.

As they drove the way they had come, Carson decided to test his own suspicions about the woman's identity. "Is it your sister?"

Rodney's head whirled around. "What?"

Carson hit his arm frantically. "Rodney, the road!" he shouted. The Sebring swerved, narrowly missing a kid on a bike. When his heart started beating again, Carson glared at his friend. "Rodney."

"Yes, yes, it was my sister, all right?" Rodney snapped.

"This may sound like a daft question, but why didn't you get out of the car and talk to her?" Carson asked.

Rodney's lips compressed into a thin line. "She doesn't want anything to do with me."

Carson frowned. "I realize you two aren't close…"

"I wrote her three times, Carson," Rodney said, holding up three fingers in case he wasn't making himself clear. "Three times. She never wrote back. Not once."

"Then why are you here?" Carson asked.

Rodney's lips twisted into something resembling a smile. "She's my sister. I wanted to see her."

"Spying on her from a car isn't seeing her, Rodney," Carson said. "You should go back and talk to her."

They reached a stop sign, and Rodney stepped on the brakes with more force than was necessary. "I told you already, she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"You should hear her side of the story," Carson said.

Rodney snorted. "Yeah, because knowing the exact reason why she shunned me is going to make me feel so much better!"

Carson sighed. "Rodney, you need your family right now. Given your condition--"

"I don't want to talk about it," Rodney said.

"But--"

Rodney waved his hand dismissively. "I just want to get back to the motel. We can figure out what the hell we're going to do later."


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Carson woke to the sound of retching in the bathroom. He threw back his covers and tumbled out of bed. He found Rodney hunched over the toilet, looking pale, shaky, and completely miserable. Rodney didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice that Carson was there until the other man grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet. Once Rodney was leaning against the sink, he turned on the tap and splashed some water on his face. Carson handed him a plastic cup, and Rodney rinsed out his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Carson asked.

Rodney glared at him. "You're kidding, right?" Shaking his head, he trudged out of the bathroom and collapsed across his bed.

Carson fished inside his backpack and pulled out a box of crackers. Rodney lifted his head when Carson shook the box then groaned and fell back against his pillows.

"You'll feel better if you eat something," Carson said.

Rodney grimaced. "No, if I eat something, I'll throw up again."

"The crackers will help counteract the nausea," Carson said. He stood at the side of the bed and tried to hand Rodney the crackers, but Rodney curled up on his side and ignored him. Deciding not to press the issue, Carson left the crackers beside the bottle of apple juice on the bedside table. Then he freed the sheets that were tangled beneath Rodney's legs and draped them over his friend's shoulders. Rodney's eyes remained closed, but he pulled the sheets higher. Carson patted Rodney's back gently and returned to his own bed.

Laying still and silent, Carson waited for Rodney to fall asleep. When Rodney's breathing deepened, Carson sat up cautiously and peered across at the other bed. Rodney's eyes were still closed and his mouth was slack. Carson pulled back his sheets and tiptoed across the room to get dressed. Once that task was complete, he scribbled a note on a sheet of Dominion Motel stationary and left it on the bedside table. Then he walked over to the pair of trousers Rodney had tossed over a chair. With a nervous glance at his friend, Carson reached into one of the pockets and pulled out the keys to the Sebring.

Although his conscience was screaming at him, Carson believed he was doing the right thing. He just hoped Rodney would see it that way.


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Carson didn't notice how late it was until he happened to glance at the Sebring's clock. He had hoped to catch Rodney's sister before she left for work, but as it was 8:47 a.m. he was sure he had already missed her. He was debating whether he should turn back and try again later when he found himself turning on to Hellas Drive. At first, Carson couldn't remember which number Rodney's sister lived at, but then he spotted the beige Honda and knew he had found the right house.

Carson hadn't considered the possibility that Rodney's sister might work nights or have the day off. He wondered if he should disturb her. Then he remembered Rodney curled up pathetically in his bed and got out of the car. He was knocking on the door before he realized that he had no idea what he was going to say.

The door swung open, and Carson came face to face with the woman he had only caught a glimpse of the day before. Her dirty blond hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing a faded t-shirt and jeans. Carson thought she was beautiful. He gaped at her with an open mouth until she snapped, "What?"

Carson gulped. "Uh, I'm a friend of Rodney's."

Her eyes narrowed. "A friend of Rodney's? Rodney?"

For a second, Carson wondered if he was at the right house. "You know. Rodney. Your brother."

The woman lifted her chin, and Carson knew he hadn't been mistaken. "Yes, I know who Rodney is," she said. "I've just never heard anyone admit to being his friend before. I didn't think he had any."

Carson might have laughed, but he wasn't sure if she was joking. Rodney's sister must have seen something she didn't like in Carson's expression because her eyes widened and she had the same look Rodney had whenever he was about to fly into a panic.

"Oh, Jesus," she said. "Is Rodney dead?" She brought a trembling hand to her lips, and Carson began to wish he had stayed at the motel.

Using his most gentle and patient voice, Carson attempted to soothe the woman. "Rodney isn't dead. He's far from it. I promise."

Rodney's sister lowered her hand, though it still shook slightly. "What happened then? Why are you here?"

Carson sighed. "Miss, uh…Ms. McKay…"

Rodney's sister rolled her eyes. "Jeannie," she said.

Carson gave a quick jerk of his head. "Jeannie. Right. Uh, perhaps we could continue this discussion inside."

Jeannie lifted her chin higher this time. "Yeah, I don't think so. I haven't cleaned in three weeks. I'm not letting anyone in, especially a total stranger."

"I'm sorry," Carson said. "I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

Jeannie snorted. "Presumptuous? Yeah, okay." She snapped her fingers. "My brother. What's going on?"

"Ah…well…" Carson bit his lip.

Jeannie snapped her fingers again.

"He, uh…He has a medical condition," Carson said.

Jeannie's mouth fell open. "A medical condition? What kind of medical condition?"

Carson almost smiled in relief. Now he was in his element. "Besides being Rodney's friend, I'm his doctor, so I'm not allowed to divulge that information," he said. "It will be up to Rodney to decide what to tell you."

Jeannie's mouth fell open even further. "Rodney's here?" She scanned her surroundings quickly, as if expecting Rodney to pop out of some bushes.

"He's back at the motel," Carson said. "He wasn't feeling well."

Jeannie frowned. "Rodney's sick?"

"Aye, you could say that." To Carson, it seemed like the most convenient explanation.

"Give me two minutes," Jeannie said. She turned and stepped back inside the house, nearly slamming the door in Carson's face. When she came back out again, she was wearing a jacket and her hair was out of its ponytail. "As you know where you're going, you can drive."

As Carson was afraid of her wreck of a car, he simply nodded and led the way to Sebring. However, Jeannie hesitated before getting inside the car.

"Is something the matter?" Carson asked.

"Who the hell are you?" Jeannie said. "I mean, do you have a name, or do you always introduce yourself as 'Rodney's friend'?"

Carson walked around to the passenger side of the car and extended his hand. "Carson. Carson Beckett."

Jeannie studied the hand for a moment then shook it. Carson opened the car door for her and couldn't help smiling when she blushed and muttered, "Thanks."

Jeannie was silent as Carson started up the car and drove up the street. When she still hadn't spoken two minutes later, Carson glanced at her curiously. Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap and she was biting her lower lip.

"I could turn on the radio," Carson suggested.

Jeannie started and stared at him for a moment. "What? No, no, it's okay," she said. Then she leaned forward and turned on the radio. After cycling through all the FM and AM stations twice, she gave a weary sigh and shut it off. She sank back in her seat and gazed out the window. "So Rodney sent you to find me."

"Uh, not exactly," Carson said.

Jeannie turned towards him. "Not exactly?"

Carson took a deep breath. "Rodney doesn't exactly know I'm here."

Jeannie jerked upright in her seat. "Stop the car."

"What?" Carson said.

"Stop the damn car!" Jeannie shouted.

Carson hit the breaks, and Jeannie winced as the mini-van behind them almost ploughed into their rear fender. The other driver honked his horn loudly and yelled a few choice words at Carson and Jeannie as the mini-van swept past them.

"Yeah, okay," Jeannie said. "Next time I tell you to 'Stop the damn car,' you're allowed to park it first."

Carson nodded tensely. "Aye, all right." He placed his foot back on the accelerator and drove the car into a plaza with a post office, dry cleaners, donut shop and adult video store.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jeannie demanded as soon as the car drew into a parking spot. "I mean, do you have any idea how stupid this is?"

Carson nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I do. I have a bloody good idea, actually, but Rodney wanted to see you, so here I am."

Jeannie gazed sullenly out the window. "If he really wanted to see me, he would have sent you."

"Rodney wants to see you. We drove to your house yesterday, but he was afraid to talk to you." Carson sighed and rubbed his face wearily. "He thinks you want nothing to do with him."

Jeannie stared at Carson blankly. Her mouth opened once, then twice, but no words came out.

"He said he wrote you three times and you never answered any of his letters," Carson said. He watched Jeannie's features as confusion shifted to comprehension. Then she was thumping her head against the headrest.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she moaned.

Resisting the urge to pat Jeannie's shoulder sympathetically, Carson said, "Would you like to talk about it?"

"No. Good God, no." Jeannie placed a hand across her face, and Carson waited. "I thought he was just being polite!" Jeannie said. "I thought he wrote those letters because…because he felt obligated."

Carson laughed. "Obligated? Rodney?"

Jeannie glared at him. "Well, it's not as if he was ever that interested in me. I'm not a genius. I struggled through high school and dropped out of college. I'm nothing like him."

This time, Carson did reach out to touch Jeannie's shoulder. "You're his sister. None of that matters, luv."

"Yeah? In what universe?" Jeannie asked. She shrunk away from Carson's hand, and her eyes focused on the window again. Carson was debating whether he should offer to drive her back home, when she spoke again. "The last few years haven't been great. In fact, they've pretty much sucked. Except for Andrew. He's my son."

Carson's eyes widened. Rodney had never mentioned having a nephew. "How old is your wee boy?"

"Well, I don't know if 'wee' is an accurate description." Jeannie smiled. "He's eight and he's growing like a weed. I had to buy him a new pair of shoes last week because he outgrew the pair I got him in September. I'm just hoping he can make it through the hockey season before he needs new skates."

"Your son plays hockey?" Carson was surprised. He didn't think anyone related to Rodney would possess athletic abilities.

As if sensing his thoughts, Jeannie said, "Andrew takes after his father, unfortunately."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Unfortunately?"

"Yeah, I don't want my kid turning into a self-centered two-timing bastard," Jeannie said.

Ouch. Realizing that he was treading on dangerous ground, Carson immediately changed the subject. "Rodney will probably be up soon, if he isn't awake already. Uh, shall we make our way to the motel?"

Jeannie shook herself from her bitter thoughts. "Sure, that would be a plan. Where are you guys staying, anyway?"

"It's a place just outside of Scarber-Scarborough," Carson said. "The Dominion Motel."

Jeannie's head swivelled sharply. "You're kidding."

"No," Carson said. "Why? Have you heard of it?"

Jeannie grinned. "Oh, yes, I've heard of it. I think most of Toronto has heard of it."

Carson wasn't sure he liked her tone. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I'm guessing you haven't watched the news lately," Jeannie said.

Carson shook his head. "No, we only got here yesterday. Why? What happened?"

"Oh, nothing much," Jeannie said. "Just a major drug bust at the Dominion Motel."

Carson stared at her in disbelief. "A major drug bust?"

Jeannie laughed. "Yeah, we have drugs in Canada too, eh?"

"Oh," Carson muttered absently, "of course." He frowned. "I wondered why the place was so quiet. Rodney said it was the off-season."

"Or it could be the major drug bust," Jeannie said. "Eight kilos of cocaine and six kilos of heroin." She rolled her eyes. "You guys can't stay there."

"Aye, I guess you're right," Carson said. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions."

Jeannie tilted her head and studied him thoughtfully. "Oh, I think I can come up with something."


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Carson had hoped that Rodney would still be sleeping when he returned to the motel, but instead of snores he was greeted by the sound of vomiting in the bathroom. His eyes darted to the bedside table to see if Rodney had made any effort to eat the crackers, which is when he spotted the open box of Timbits on Rodney's bed.

"Bloody fool," Carson grumbled. Then he glanced quickly at Jeannie. She stood watching the bathroom door with a mixture of fear and horror.

Carson squeezed her shoulder. "It's not as bad as it sounds."

Jeannie turned towards Carson slowly and stared at him as if he had completely lost his mind.

"Uh, I'll just go check on him," Carson said. He moved to the bathroom door, not bothering to knock before barging in on his patient.

Rodney was sitting on the bathroom floor, clutching the toilet bowl with both hands. He was pale and sweaty, though he no longer appeared to be throwing up his breakfast. He glared at Carson briefly before focusing on the toilet bowl.

"You only have yourself to blame," Carson said. "If you hadn't eaten those wee donuts--"

Rodney's eyes whipped back to Carson. "You left me! You-you abandoned me! I had to eat something! The Timbits were the only food source!"

Carson crossed his arms. "And what was wrong with the crackers I specifically left out for you?"

Rodney snorted. "Like crackers really count. If you'd had your way, I would have starved to death."

"Oh, for God's sake, Rodney, I wasn't even gone an hour!" Carson said.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" Rodney shouted. "All your note said -- and thank you for not telling me in person -- was that you'd be back 'soon'. Soon. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are we talking an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year? I don't know! You might as well have written: 'I'm going for a walk now. I could be gone for some time.'"

Carson sighed heavily. "Now you're just being melodramatic."

Rodney's eyes narrowed to blue slits. "I'm being melodramatic?" he said. "I'm not the one who snuck off in the early hours of the morning! I'm not the one who pulled a disappearing act!"

Carson was sure that Rodney would have started gesturing wildly with both hands if he hadn't been clutching the toilet. His pale face had flushed red, and it looked like he was about to launch into another tirade, when his jaw dropped and his anger was replaced by shock. "Jeannie?" he said.

Jeannie was hovering just outside the bathroom. She smiled nervously and waved. "Hi, Rodney."

"Hi." Rodney still looked stunned. "Uh, how are you?"

Jeannie swallowed and Carson could see that she was on the verge of tears. He reached for her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom. Then Jeannie slid down to the floor and wrapped her arms around her brother. Rodney's eyes widened in surprise, before he released his grip on the toilet and hugged Jeannie back. Neither sibling realized that Carson had left until they heard the quiet click of the bathroom door closing.

"Why didn't you write back?" Rodney asked.

Jeannie tensed and began to pull away, but Rodney just held her more tightly. "Why, Jeannie?"

Jeannie's voice was muffled against Rodney's shoulder. "I didn't think you were really that interested," she said.

Rodney frowned in confusion. "Of course I was interested. Why would I have written to you if I wasn't interested?"

Jeannie sighed. "You're a physicist, a-a god-damn genius."

"Yes, this is true," Rodney said, "but I don't see what that has to do with…" His expression clouded. "What? You didn't think we'd have anything to talk about? Is that it?" He shook his head. "Jeannie, I wasn't looking for an in-depth discussion on the grand unified theory. I was just trying to reach out. I know we grew up in a dysfunctional family, but you must have come across the concept in Hallmark cards and AT&T commercials." Rodney took Jeannie by the shoulders and studied her face. "What's the real reason?" he asked.

Jeannie took a deep breath. "I screwed up my life."

"How?" Rodney asked. "How did you screw up your life?"

"Well, for one thing, Chris and I got divorced," Jeannie said.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Like no one saw that coming," he said. Jeannie hit his arm. "Oww! What?"

Jeannie smacked him again. "I knew you'd say something like that!"

Rodney jerked back, attempting to protect his beleaguered limb. "Well, I'm sorry, but I told you he was a jerk from the very beginning. As far as I'm concerned, divorcing Chris was a step in the right direction."

"The right direction?" Jeannie laughed. "I'm a single mother holding down two jobs."

"Oh," Rodney said.

Jeannie drew her knees to her chest. "Chris can't be bothered to pay alimony, and now that he and Heidi, the dental hygienist, have two kids of their own, he can't be bothered with Andrew either."

"I'm sorry," Rodney said. "I didn't know."

"I'd take him to court, but I'm up to my ears in debt." Jeannie played with a loose stitch on her jeans. "I can't even afford to buy new hockey equipment for Andrew. I have to buy it used or rely on hand-me-downs from older kids."

Rodney put his head in his hands. "Jeannie--"

"My ex-mother-in-law thinks I'm an unsuitable parent. I'm sure she'd sue for custody if she wasn't afraid the judge would take my side and force Chris to pay alimony."

Rodney tried to jump back into the conversation. "Jeannie--"

"Do you know how long it's been since I've had sex? I'm afraid to date anyone because Andrew thinks that any man I talk to has the potential to be his new--"

"Jeannie!"

Startled, Jeannie glared at her brother. "What?" she demanded. Then she noticed that Rodney's mouth was a hard thin line. She had quickly learned that this meant Rodney was angry or upset about something. Suddenly she remembered what had brought her here in the first place and felt guilty for allowing herself to get side-tracked.

Jeannie scooted closer to Rodney and began rubbing his back in gentle circles. Rodney exhaled in a sharp breath that sounded alarmingly like a sob and laid his head on Jeannie's shoulder.

"Your Scottish friend told me you had some kind of medical condition, but he refused to be any more specific than that," Jeannie said. She felt Rodney shake against her shoulder and, for one terrible second, she thought he was crying. Then she realized it was laughter, though it had a slightly hysterical quality to it. "Whatever it is you can tell me. Is it serious? Please, Rodney, I need to know."

Rodney raised his head and stared at Jeannie as if he had never seen her before. His face was flushed, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny, but a tiny smile was tugging at his lips.

"I'm pregnant," he said.


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Next Part

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