Title: Life's Melody

Summary: The first time Rodney touches a piano again, he's back on Earth, visiting Jeanie. Character Study.

Spoilers: References to the SG1 episodes, "48 hours," and "Redemption Part 2," and the Atlantis episodes "Raising Part 1," "Hide and Seek," "Sunday," and "Adrift."

Disclaimer: It's still not mine, but...maybe someday? :)

A/N: This fic kind of snuck up on me, lol. I've been thinking about Rodney's character and the ways he changed, and I love to listen to music when I write. A plot bunny decided to use both of those. :)

As always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Without Him, I would be totally and utterly lost.

"I had a not-so-comfortable childhood. My parents hated each other, blamed me. Music was my salvation. It had this…perfect order for me. When I was 12, my teacher told me to quit. A fine clinical player, he said, but no sense of the art whatsoever."

-Rodney McKay, Stargate: SG1, Redemption Part 2.

Life's Melody

The first time Rodney touches a piano again, he's back on Earth, visiting Jeanie. He knew she'd been the one to go through their parents' things, but he hadn't realized she'd kept it…the piano. The piano. The one he'd spent hours practicing on before a few, callous words had turned those dreams dust, and he'd found that physics made another, different kind of music.

He touches the keys on a whim. The first few notes are random, jumbled. He's not really trying. But when the last of the notes die in the air, he sits down on the bench. It creaks under his weight.

He presses down on the keys once more, making his way down the scale little by little. Rodney hasn't played in years, swore that he would never play again, and his fingers feel clumsy and awkward. He thinks of Siberia, and frustration suddenly makes the notes sound harsher, more cutting. Spiteful. Sharp.

He winces, and almost pulls his hands away.

Then he thinks of Antarctica, of second chances, and he touches the keys again. Slowly, the notes become a little smoother, but still hesitant. There's no real melody yet, but the notes are a little rounder, losing some of their sharpness.

When he thinks of Atlantis, the tempo starts to run faster, the movements of his hands a little more natural. He thinks of panic and terror and impossible odds, and right away the notes become high and quick, but then he remembers surviving, succeeding, and not fainting, and the notes turn confident again, a crescendo building, growing, and cresting.

He thinks of Sheppard, and an unlikely friendship that feels like the most natural thing in the world, and the notes are lighter, happier, a mix of sharps and flats that shouldn't work well together at all, but somehow, impossibly, they do.

He thinks of Teyla, and starts the beginning of a half-remembered classical piece, full of grace and elegance and strength.

He thinks of Ronon, and his fingers automatically move down the scale, hitting deep, powerful, low notes that resonate through the room.

He thinks of Carson, of Elizabeth, of loss…and his fingers slow again, the notes subdued and melancholy.

But then he thinks of adventure and discovery, of courage and determination, and the melancholy notes fade, his hands moving over the keys by themselves, the tempo speeding up again, the chords clearer, a pattern emerging from the chaos. The music crescendos once more, loud and long and bold, touching every note.

When he thinks of hope…of the future…of his team, the final notes he plays are softer, but clear.

Beautiful.

The sound of applause makes him jump.

He spins around to find Jeanie watching him. His face heats in embarrassment, but he raises his chin stubbornly. He's expecting her to finish her sarcastic round of applause and laugh at him, but she doesn't.

Instead, she's looking at him with amazement, her eyes a little wide.

"Wow, Mer," she says, "I didn't know you'd started playing again. That sounded great."

"Well, of course it…" he starts automatically, but then he stops, the words trailing off. He chews his lip. "Really?" he asks hesitantly.

She nods, and when she smiles it's sincere, not mocking. Rodney blinks at her a few times, then turns back to stare down at the now-silent piano.

You're a fine clinical player, but you have no sense of the art. You do not feel the music, his teacher had said. He'd known what that meant, known that he was missing something significant, something vital, but no matter how much he practiced, no matter how many times he played, he could never find that all-important missing piece.

But something is different now. The notes aren't just notes anymore. There's joy and laughter and sorrow and anger and accomplishment and regret and fear and warmth and friendship and a thousand other things.

There's life.

His life.

"Mer?"

Rodney turns around again.

"What?"

"Could you play some more?" Jeanie asks, sounding like the little sister from his memory, the one before all the hurt and distance and resentment. "Please?"

He surprises them both when he does.

Fin

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think!

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494