SirMatthew1972

He sat on his bed in his Star Wars pyjamas (a couple of inches too short in the leg), staring at the opposite wall as the clock there ticked closer to midnight.

The morning had been rushed; there was school to get to (not that he'd learn anything new there, he was already streets ahead of even the teachers), work to do. He was used to nothing being said in the morning. He'd figured when he got back from school there'd be a card and present, maybe his Mom would make pancakes for dinner like she did on special occasions?

Except when the bus had dropped him off and he'd pushed open the door, there'd been nothing. Just a hurried 'hello' from the kitchen from his Mom and Jeannie watching TV, ignoring him completely.

He'd dropped his stuff upstairs, wondering if maybe this was all part of a ruse. Maybe he was getting a surprise? Except before he could ever find out, Jeannie managed to trip down a couple of stairs. She wasn't even badly hurt! She could still get up, she hadn't even hit her head! She was probably fine! But their parents had insisted on a hospital run. They'd called the sitter and…gone.

As the last few seconds of the day ticked by, he released a small sigh.

Who cared about birthdays anyway?!

2.

The problem with being the smart kid was that friends didn't come naturally. Especially when you realised just how much smarter you were than every other person around you, including the adults, and weren't afraid to express it.

Not that Rodney cared about friendships. He didn't need to be weighed down by the kids around him. He had better things to do than play Tag or giggle over swearwords. He had papers, tests and experiments to run through. He had worksheets and books to pour over. He had everything he needed. Pretty much.

Except sometimes…only occasionally, when he saw his sister out in the yard with a friend from school, or the other kids playing, he felt a bit like something was missing. Like maybe he could have that. Maybe it wouldn't be quite so bad?

But he'd spent most of his school life proving he was better than everyone else - not that that was hard - and now they preferred to keep their distance.

Rodney snorted, turning his attention back to the pages of the book in front of him. All around him there was laughter, chatter and yelling as lunch continued, but he did his best to ignore it.

No one had remembered what day it was. Not even his teacher, who he knew for a fact had everyone's birthdays written down in her diary. No one had said anything. Which was fine. He didn't care about birthdays anyway. The only thing they were good for, was getting him closer to the age where he could actually leave this pathetic excuse for education and try something worthwhile!

If his eyes started to burn as he stared down at his book, well, that was probably allergies! They always got set off this time of year.

3.

For the first time in years excitement had bubbled up within him as his birthday approached. He'd given up expecting anything from the day pretty early on, it was easier to just ignore it. At least that way you couldn't be disappointed! But this time, this time he knew it'd be different. For one thing he had a…friend. Well, someone who laughed at his jokes, who was happy to sit next to him in lectures. Someone who seemed to actually want to be around him.

Mark was pretty smart too - not quite Rodney's level, but he was prepared to overlook that for other…well, other reasons. And he'd promised to buy him a beer for his birthday! Illegal, obviously, he wasn't 19 yet, but that had seemed rather a big deal! And, so what if Rodney had wondered if maybe that'd lead to…something else? He was practically an adult now, so he was completely allowed to want things.

He blushed at the thought, noting the way the colour spread up his neck before hitting his cheeks. He'd spent longer than usual on his appearance; forcing his hair under control, paying extra attention whilst shaving, he'd even ironed his shirt! The cologne he'd dabbed on his neck seemed just a bit overpowering in the small dormroom, but he was confident that once they stepped outside - once they got into a bar! - it'd be fine.

And so he waited. Perched on the edge of his bed, waiting just like Mark had told him to. He'd promised to come and pick him up.

The minutes ticked by; but he'd be here. He'd promised.

The light faded rapidly through the window; the moon rising steadily in its place.

Still no Mark.

But he'd be here. He might just be held up! Nothing to worry about.

At some point Rodney must have dozed off, because the sound of a door slamming down the hall caused him to jolt upright. The room was completely dark now; there was music blaring from another room near him, his shirt was creased again, spittle drying at the corner of his mouth.

And the realisation hit him. Mark had forgotten.

4.

When one of his team had asked him if they could bring in a cake for their birthday, he'd stared at them like they'd grown another head. It wasn't just the fact that having cake just laid around wasn't exactly conducive to a productive working environment, it was that they wanted to share it with others that really got him. He'd ignored his last five birthdays completely; as had everyone else too.

But he'd shrugged after a moment's awkward pause, telling them to do what they like, he really couldn't care less. And so they had. He'd even had a slice. The rest of his team had all stood around, laughing, grinning and joking amongst themselves. He'd been on the periphery, as usual.

He'd placed his slice of cake on a napkin, grabbed a fork from the pile on the table and then slipped back into his office. The calendar on the wall peered at him between schematics, spreadsheets and posters.

18 April.

No one out there knew. He'd not bothered to tell any of them and they'd never asked.

But he supposed, as he broke a piece of cake off with his fork, at least this was almost a celebration?

5.

The canteen was busy, busier than he'd expected when he'd finally decided to take a break. It was well past a regular dinner time, but then again when had Atlantis staff ever really cared about timings? Nevermind the number who did shift work, the rest of them were still trying to figure their body clocks out on another planet!

He glanced down at the tablet in his hand as he inched along the queue, running through a few of the latest proposals from his team and binning most of them. Idiots, the whole lot of them. They'd barely been here five minutes and already were wanting to make changes to centuries old tech they didn't understand!

He lifted his gaze only to load his tray with food, and then weave his way to a deserted table towards the back of the room. At least he'd be able to get a bit of peace and quiet here before he headed back to the labs, to listen to Kavanagh droning away and Zelenka whittering. There must have been some sort of redeeming feature on their CVs or he never would have picked them, but…he'd yet to find it!

But before he'd even lifted his fork to his mouth a shadow fell over the table, and a familiar voice sounded above him.

"Ah, there you are!"

Rodney rolled his eyes and continued with his mouthful, lifting his head as Carson sank down in the chair opposite him.

"Mm, what a surprise, because no one eats dinner at this time." He waved his free hand at the mass of people around them, but Carson ignored him.

"I've got a bone to pick with ye." Carson was staring at him intently, and for a second Rodney felt a twinge of worry. What had he done?! He'd not missed a medical, that was for sure! Had he forgotten a lunch they were meant to have? Was there something he was meant to have fixed in the Infirmary? "Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday, the other day?"

"Who told you that?" Rodney rolled his eyes again, "Oh, what are we? Six?" He took another mouthful.

"Did you not tell anyone?"

"Of course not." Rodney just about managed to not spray half-eaten food over his friend, he swallowed, "I don't do birthdays, Carson. They're pointless. Just another reminder that death's slowly creeping nearer, and I'm already getting enough mortality reminders with this whole expedition, okay?"

Carson was watching him with something that looked horribly like sympathy.

"Don't." He warned, waving his fork at his friend, "Don't you dare go telling anyone. No birthdays. No celebrations. Just another day." He glared until Carson released a sigh, his shoulders dropping.

"Aye, well, that's your choice." Rodney didn't exactly trust his tone, but with any luck this conversation would be forgotten in a few hours time, maybe a particularly bad ingrown toenail would take Carson's mind off it.

"Yes, yes it is!"

+1

"Colonel, you know how busy I am! I can't just disappear off for an hour! Those idiots won't know what to do with themselves!" Rodney spluttered as the hand in the small of his back pushed him doggedly on through the corridors. He'd been trying to explain to Sheppard just how bad of an idea it was for him to leave the labs ever since the other man had turned up, out of the blue, and practically manhandled him out into the corridor. "You know Elizabeth wants those reports done by the end of tomorrow, and I've got at least three new sections of the city to start cataloging, not to mention that hiccup with the pipes that definitely needs looking into…"

He continued chattering as they walked, but nothing seemed to put Sheppard off. Instead his hand still remained steady, pushing Rodney onwards. Eventually Rodney had to pause for breath and he managed to cut in.

"They can survive without you, McKay."

Rodney opened his mouth, but in the absence of a good comeback he closed it again. Fine. If Sheppard wanted to believe everything wouldn't go to hell in a handbasket without him, that was absolutely fine by him.

He allowed himself to be led through the corridors, only mildly irritated by the hand still sitting in the small of his back. Until they finally reached Sheppard's quarters - Rodney glanced over his shoulder, shooting his friend a quizzical look. Sheppard merely smirked, jerking his chin towards the door.

Rodney waved his hand and the door flew open; there was a moment's silence before a small crowd of people yelled,

"Surprise!"

All Rodney could do for a second was blink stupidly, before Sheppard nudged him in the back and he stepped inside. The door closed behind them both and Rodney stared around: Teyla, Ronon, Carson and Elizabeth were all stood there, looking a little cramped in the confined space but all beaming at him.

"W-what -?" He tried, his voice slightly weak.

"A little birdie happened to mention it was a special occasion." Sheppard drawled from behind him.

"A Scottish birdie, I assume." Rodney growled, glaring at Carson who held his gaze, completely unashamed. "Look, this is thoughtful and everything, I'm sure," he waved a hand vaguely, "but I don't ce-"

"We are your friends, Rodney," Teyla stepped forwards, gently taking his waving hand, "we wished to celebrate you." She was smiling up at him and, suddenly, any arguments he might have had went out the window. He swallowed against a sudden lump that seemed to have appear in his throat. They were really here for him? They'd remembered? They…wanted to…they'd arranged this?

"And someone promised cake." Ronon shrugged from the other side of the bed, breaking the moment.

"Cake?" Rodney's eyes lit up, emotion momentarily forgotten.

"Told you." Carson muttered to Elizabeth, before he chuckled, "I'm a wee bit rusty, but my Mam's got a great recipe." He tapped the top of the desk, where a large fruit cake sat, complete with candle.

Rodney stared from the cake, to Carson, to Elizabeth smiling beside him, to Teyla and Ronon and then Sheppard. All watching him, all squeezed into this tiny room…for him.

Something warm glowed in his chest.