The sea was going through one of her moods today. She crashed lustily at the piers of Atlantis, reaching long wet arms at her spires in a futile attempt to bring them down into her embrace. She got this way sometimes, calling, crying. She was why Rodney McKay never slept much.
Rodney lay in bed, curled around himself as if to try and block her voice from his mind. In total darkness he traced the scars between his fingers, scars from when he'd taken a knife to his own hands and cut the webbing away. Dream images clung to his mind, images of Atlantis sunken beneath the angry waves, of her corridors flooded and alive with himself and his kin. Of an Atlantis finally at home within the waters that the Ancients and later the humans tried so very hard to keep at bay.
It would be so easy...
Rodney threw himself off the bed with a shudder of disgust. Y'ha-nthlei was in a whole other galaxy, it just wasn't fair that he'd be getting the dreams all the way out here. Clothes were found and Rodney lost himself in the city.
Or tried to. His bare feet brought him to the nearly empty dining hall. The scent of coffee lured him to food, food lured him to the only occupied table at this unholy hour.
"Somehow I figured more people would be kept awake," Rodney said in way of greeting as he sat down across from Dr. Keller. "By the storm, I mean,"
Jennifer shrugged and sipped her own mug. "I suppose people are getting used to an angry ocean," she said.
"Not angry, horny," Rodney muttered before taking a bite of sandwich.
"You'd be the one to know, wouldn't you?" Jennifer asked before she could stop herself. She apologized quickly at Rodney's look or horrified disgust. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."
Rodney put his sandwich down and pushed his tray away in a significant gesture. "Yes it was," he agreed, voice carefully neutral. A silence stretched between them, thick and oppressive.
"So... how are things?" Jennifer asked.
"How do you think?" Rodney countered, gearing up for a whole rant. "I'm trapped here in the middle of the ocean, slowly devolving into a giant seafaring toad while surrounded by people who are watching every stage of my change without knowing what it is and I can't tell them 'cause they'll shoot me if I do. Not even my own sister knows because Dad made sure to never tell anyone before his own change drove him to commit suicide and I only know because of the dreams and guess what? The dreams are back and I have no idea why or especially how because last time I checked R'lyeh was three million light years away and how in hell can telepathy not penetrate the Pacific Ocean but still reach this damned far?!" He took a breath and let it fall flat.
"Feel better?" she asked.
"No," he whined in a small voice. A hand snaked to his tray and returned with coffee which Rodney sipped nervously. "I never wanted this, you know," he said quietly.
"Isn't there a way to suppress it?"
Jennifer sighed and put her mug down. "And how would I do that?" she asked. "Carson's research on your... condition is spotty at best and as far as I can tell implies that the only difference between you and I is in the expression of key genes in combination with a few tiny additions. I wouldn't know where to begin and it's not like there are other hybrids I can test theories on." She sighed then remembered something Rodney had just said. "The dreams are back?"
"Where did you get hot chocolate?" Rodney asked in a blatant attempt at changing the subject.
"Private stash," she said. "Don't change the subject. You. Dreams. They're back? When?"
"And exactly how private is this stash?" he asked. At her glare Rodney shrank down a bit. "Past few days," he admitted quietly.
"The basics? Cthulhu at R'lyeh? Family members greeting you underwater?"
Rodney closed his eyes, shuddered, and gave a quick shake of his head. "Atlantis," he murmured. "Underwater. Claimed. Mine." He opened big blue eyes, emphasizing the slide of nictitating membranes across his eyes as he looked at her. He noted her poorly concealed shudder.
"I'm sure it's just dreams," she said, impressed at the lack of a waver in her own voice. "Brought on by the... horny seas."
Rodney rolled his eyes. He didn't believe it any more than she did.
"Not buying it either?" she said ruefully. She answered his snort with one of her own. "Still, maybe they'll die down a bit when the storm calms."
"Maybe," he agreed.
Summary: Crossover with the Cthulhu Mythos. The storm isn't the only thing keeping Rodney awake at night. Set early season 4.