Chapter Text
When Fir comes to he's laying on a bed in the hospital wing, and his first thought is: “Oh no, not this again.”
There’s a nurse fussing with an IV next to the bed, and when she sees he’s awake she says, “Oh good, you’re up. I’ll get Dr. Beckett.”
Fir tries to sit up, but it makes his head spin wildly so he falls back down. He tries to put his arm over his eyes, but oh, apparently that’s what the IV is there for. He does it with his other arm instead and wonders how much time he has lost.
“You’ve been pushing yourself way too hard,” says Dr. Beckett as he walks in. Fir uncovers his face and stares up at the ceiling. “You’re severely dehydrated and malnourished.”
“Where’s my laptop?” Fir asks.
Dr. Beckett makes a few quick marks on the chart. “You need to focus on getting your strength back and not worry about that right now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Son, you are not fine,” Dr. Beckett says. “You’re lucky Ronon was there when you fainted or you would have cracked your head.”
Fir groans a little at the word “fainted.” He’s not a sad Victorian novel heroine with wasting disease, goddamnit. He just lost track of himself a little.
“You’re being put on medical leave for at least a few days,” Dr. Beckett continues. “If you violate it, I’ll be recommending a full week instead.”
“I’m fine,” Fir insists.
For some reason Dr. Beckett does not look convinced. “Regardless, you’ll be kept here overnight tonight and then you’ll be on enforced medical leave. If you’re caught logging in to any of your work accounts at any point during the next four days, your leave will be extended. You are to sleep as much as possible, eat regularly, and drink lots of water. Is that understood?”
Fir puts his arm back over his face.
“Now,” says Dr. Beckett, “I understand that Dr. Ant is waiting outside and wants to see you. Shall I let him in?”
Fir presses his inner elbow against his eyelids more forcefully and says, “No.”
“Are you sure? He seemed pretty insistent. I’d hate to have to turn him away.”
“Please don’t let him in,” Fir mumbles.
“Okay,” Dr. Beckett says gently. “I’ll tell him you’re not up for visitors. Try to get some rest. Someone will be in to check on you in a couple hours, but there’s a button here you can hit if you need assistance sooner.” Then he leaves.
Fir, deeply miserable, curls onto his side and buries his face in the pillow. After a bit there’s some distant shouting from down the hall and for a moment he thinks maybe it sounds a little like Tanner, wonders if it’s him, but he’s just so tired, he’s so damned tired.
An hour or so later someone wakes him and forces him to eat some kind of tepid soup, and then they leave and he’s asleep again before he knows it.
When Fir next stirs, he’s incredibly warm, almost too warm. He’s groggy and his head feels like it’s stuffed with gauze, and he tries to roll over but there’s something pinning him in place. The something tugs him closer and with a start Fir realizes it’s Tanner, pressed up behind him with an arm around his waist. Fir squirms a little, trying to get away, but the movement pulls at his IV uncomfortably and Tanner just tightens his grip anyway so, vexed, Fir gives up.
“I could have sworn I told Dr. Beckett not to let you in,” Fir mutters.
“Yeah,” says Tanner, voice muffled. “I snuck in.”
“I could just press the button and someone would come to take you away.”
“I know,” Tanner says. “Please don’t.”
Because he’s hopelessly weak, Fir doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Tanner says after a little while, and jeez he sounds rough, like he’s had a sore throat for a week. “I know you’re not interested and you don’t want me around and I’m just bothering you again. But someone told me you’d collapsed in a hallway and I just, I just really needed to know you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” Fir says automatically.
Tanner makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “You always say that,” he says, “but you’re not fine. You work way too hard and you never sleep and you don’t eat enough and you never let me say or do anything about it. And I don’t even know why you’re doing this to yourself. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Of course Tanner doesn’t get it. He’s a superstar in his field, he’s already made a name for himself here on Atlantis, he has already ingratiated himself with everyone important, was chosen for an offworld team, and he’s somehow made himself critical to the expedition with seemingly no effort at all. He deserves to be here. Fir just got preposterously lucky.
Fir doesn’t say any of that. Instead he turns his face into the pillow and concentrates on the feel of Tanner’s heartbeat against his back.
“I brought you things to eat,” Tanner goes on after a minute. “I didn’t know what you’d want so I bribed everyone I knew for bits of their dinner and brought it all, you can have whatever you like.” He curls more tightly around Fir, nuzzles his face further into Fir’s hair, and adds, “God, no wonder you’re sick of me, just listen to me, I’m pathetic.”
Fir hates hearing Tanner say things like that, but he can’t think of anything he can say that wouldn’t give him away completely, so he says nothing. He’s a coward, but he already knew that.
He has no idea how many hours it’s been, but the IV has been dripping saline into his veins for a while now and his bladder is uncomfortably full.
“Let me up,” he says, and Tanner makes another awful little sound. Fir lets out an exasperated breath. “I have to pee.”
“Okay,” Tanner agrees, and doesn’t move.
“Tanner, let me up,” Fir says again, and Tanner slowly unwraps himself and stands.
Sitting up makes Fir a little dizzy, but he pushes through it because he doesn’t want to show more weakness than necessary.
“Do you need help?” Tanner asks, and he makes another noise of discontent when Fir says, “No.”
Fir, rolling the IV stand along with him, somehow manages to get to the little attached bathroom and back, and all but collapses into the bed again when he’s done.
Tanner appears immediately by the side of the bed with a bag of wrapped food items and says, “Please eat something?”
Fir really isn’t hungry, but he takes some kind of protein bar at random, unwraps it, and takes a bite. Tanner hovers anxiously, looking wretched and unsure, and Fir sighs and covers his eyes with his arm and says, “Oh, come on then.”
He feels Tanner climb back on the bed and pull him back into an embrace, feels Tanner’s warm breath on his shoulder, and drops back into a dreamless sleep.
***
“Huh,” says Dr. Beckett, and Fir opens his eyes.
Tanner is still wrapped around him like a big, warm limpet, but he’s glaring up at Dr. Beckett, as if daring him to say anything.
Fir groans and says, “Yeah, I know. It’s fine.”
“Okay then,” Dr. Beckett says. “I’m letting you go, but remember that you’re on enforced leave for at least three more days, and I’m going to need you to come back after those three days are up so I can look you over. Do you have anyone who can stay with you and make sure you eat and drink enough?” he adds, looking pointedly at Tanner.
“No,” Fir says at the same time Tanner says, “I’ll do it.”
Fir kicks him in the shin, and Tanner says: “Ow.”
“I’m fine on my own,” Fir says.
“I think you’ve demonstrably proven that isn’t true,” Dr. Beckett says, to Fir’s extreme annoyance. “But if you insist, I can assign a nurse to check on you every couple hours instead.”
“I’ll do it,” Tanner says again and good grief, he talks about Fir being stubborn?
“Tell you what,” Dr. Beckett says, “I’ll let you two figure this out, just let me know what you decide. Someone will be by shortly with your discharge paperwork.”
“Please let me do this,” Tanner says as soon as Dr. Beckett leaves. “I promise as soon as the three days are up I’ll go and I won’t ever bother you again.”
Fir really needs to say no. It’s not just that it would be hard on him, but it doesn’t feel fair to Tanner either. It would be better if Tanner just forgot about him, moved on with his other friends, and found someone else to grace with his attention.
At length, he says, “Okay.”
***
Fir manages to choke down some of the food Tanner brought before leaving, and by the time he’s walking out of the hospital wing his head feels a lot better, but he’s still fatigued. His limbs feel unnaturally heavy, and he can’t understand why he feels worse now than he did two days ago. He absolutely refuses to show any undue weakness, though, so he shakes Tanner’s hand off his elbow and walks all the way to the transporter entirely under his own power. From there it’s only a short walk to his quarters, but he has to lean against the doorjamb for a moment before he can make the final ten feet to the bed. He collapses face down, miffed with himself. He knows he’s being abnormally tetchy, but he thinks the circumstances allow for it.
After a minute he looks over and sees Tanner regarding the empty shelf above the desk with something like sorrow, but then he blinks and Tanner is sitting at the end of the bed, gently removing Fir’s shoes for him, and Fir does not have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of emotions.
Tanner finds a cup in a cabinet and fills it using the bathroom sink, then brings it over and nudges Fir in the side. “Drink this,” he says, and Fir rolls over and sits up with some effort because he also doesn’t have the bandwidth to argue right now. He takes a few sips, then hands it back and allows himself to fall back down.
“Where’s my laptop?” Fir asks.
Tanner shakes his head and says, “You heard the doctor.”
“I just want to check on the queue. I won’t do anything else.”
“Dr. Beckett said you’re not even allowed to log in.”
Fir groans in frustration and rolls back over onto his stomach, shoving his face in the pillow.
When he next wakes up Tanner is wrapped back around him, there’s a fresh cup of water by the bed, it’s just past noon, and he’s not sure if he’s ever slept so much in such a short period of time before. He also desperately wants a shower and fresh clothes, so he pulls himself away, ignoring the soft sound of protest Tanner makes, and locks himself in the bathroom.
The scalding water does his muscles some good, and when he opens the bathroom door again, wearing only a towel around his waist, Tanner is standing right there, looking worried.
“Christ, you startled me,” Fir says, and pushes around him.
Tanner is looking at him intently, and when he murmurs, “You’re so thin,” Fir feels a fresh wave of annoyance. He pulls on a clean sweatshirt and sweatpants and then stands there, unsure of what to do with himself now. Usually he’s practically running out of the room; he hasn’t had anything like free time in years.
Tanner wraps him in a hug from behind and Fir sighs in exasperation, which is something he’s been doing a lot of today.
“You need to eat something,” Tanner says in his ear.
“You’re going to be incredibly annoying this entire time, aren’t you?” Fir asks.
“Yup,” Tanner says.
“Fine,” Fir says. “Can you get me something warm from the mess then?”
It’s lunchtime and the mess hall is open, so Tanner agrees easily and leaves at a brisk pace. Fir immediately starts digging through cabinets, because he thinks maybe Tanner hid his laptop somewhere. The room isn’t that big, and after a minute or two Fir comes up empty and annoyed. He’s looking around morosely when he remembers: he left his laptop in his office. He’s an idiot; it has probably been there the whole time.
It’s been about four minutes since Tanner left and the mess hall isn’t that far, but it’s usually pretty crowded at this time so if Fir hurries he can probably make it. He’s pretty out of breath by the time he gets to his office, which is mildly concerning, and unfortunately Jeremy the tool is there.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jeremy says when he walks in. “Someone told me you had a heart attack and died on top of Ronon Dex.”
Everyone in Fir’s life is hellbent on being as obnoxious as possible today. “I’m fine,” he says crossly, grabs his laptop, and leaves.
Unfortunately luck is not with him and Tanner is already there, holding a tray with way too much food on it, when he returns to his room.
Tanner takes one look at him, puts the tray on the desk, and gently pries the laptop out of Fir’s hands. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. “Beckett said he’d extend your leave if you were caught working, remember?”
“Yeah, but that was obviously an empty threat. There’s no way they’ll actually have someone monitoring my logins.”
“I’m monitoring your logins,” Tanner tells him, and Fir huffs. “Now eat.”
Fir sits and picks up the fork, but he’s really not that hungry. He watches Tanner put the laptop up on the empty shelf and only starts eating the mashed potatoes when Tanner gives him a look. He manages to finish more of the tray than he expected, and then Tanner hands him a glass of water and makes him drink it.
Somehow he’s already worn out again, but he doesn’t really feel like sleeping anymore. Tanner seems to sense this and says, “Movie?”
“Fine,” Fir says, so they sit on the bed together and Tanner chooses a movie, and Fir’s chest aches a little at the familiarity of it.
Last time they did this they didn’t touch at all, but this time Tanner pulls Fir close and Fir, somewhat reluctantly, rests his head on Tanner’s shoulder.
***
Tanner is gone when Fir wakes up again, and Fir immediately looks to the shelf where the laptop isn’t anymore.
“Goddamnit,” he mutters to himself, but then he had expected as much. There’s a fresh glass of water next to him, and he sips it absently while he tries to figure out what to do. It’s late in the evening now and he basically slept the entire last day and a half, and he feels completely useless about it.
The door opens and Tanner enters, looking freshly showered and not carrying Fir’s laptop.
“Hey,” Tanner says softly. He immediately climbs on the bed and drags Fir down with him as he lays down.
“You’re so clingy,” Fir tells him.
“Sorry,” Tanner says. “I only have two more days to do this, so I’m going to make the most of it as long as you’ll let me.”
Fir ignores this. “Where’s my laptop?”
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. You’ll get it back as soon as you’re cleared by Beckett.”
Fir is quiet for a long time, thinking, and then he turns and curls into Tanner’s chest and says, “Stop saying sorry.”
“Sorry,” Tanner says, and Fir pokes him roughly in the side. Tanner laughs, and Fir is pathetically happy to hear it. It has been far too long since he heard Tanner laugh. “I do need to keep saying it, though,” Tanner adds. “I’m being selfish and invading your space and, yeah, being really clingy, even though I know you don’t want me.”
And Fir is so very weary, so incredibly weary and weak and stupid and sick of Tanner acting like a kicked puppy that he says, “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“How so?”
Fir lets out a long, deep breath, and pushes his face into Tanner’s shoulder because he really can’t bear for Tanner to see him right now. “You’ve never bothered me. I know I said so, but I lied.”
There’s a long, strange quiet, and then Tanner says: “Why?”
“Because,” Fir explains, “I need to be here. In Atlantis. And you’re very distracting.”
Tanner sounds absolutely lost when he says, “You already are in Atlantis.”
“Yeah, and now that I’m here I need to stay here. I won’t be sent back.”
“Sent back?” Tanner says. “Why the hell would they send you back?”
Fir doesn’t even know how to answer that.
Tanner pulls back a bit and looks Fir in the eyes. “Fir, do you have any idea how much money the US government spent just getting you here?” he says. “How much money it would cost them to send you back? They’re definitely not going to send you back against your will without a very good reason.”
When Tanner puts it that way it makes an absurd amount of sense, but.... “I was told my employment would be on a probationary basis to start,” Fir says. No one had said anything about his probationary period being over at his review, either.
“Well yeah,” Tanner says, “but that’s just standard corporate bullshit. They have to put that in their Atlantis contracts because it’s in all government contracts, but you’d have to be pretty awful for them to end your tenure on Atlantis of all places under the probationary clause.”
“Well then I’d better work hard to not be pretty awful, right?”
Tanner gives him a deeply stupid look, as though Fir’s natural preservation instincts are deserving of that sort of patient, exasperated affection, and says, “Do you have any idea how many people you beat out for your position? Tens of thousands, at least. It’s not so hard when you’ve spent ten years in university and got lucky with some influential papers so you happen to meet the exacting qualifications for a post like mine—the candidate pool is a lot smaller—but you had to be the very best of the best of the best because you were up against anyone who could feasibly obtain a security clearance. Fir, the President of the United States himself had to sign off on your contract. And not just that, leaders from multiple countries around the world had to look over your resume and agree that you were the one for the job. How can you not know this?”
Fir doesn’t really have an answer to that. From the moment he had discovered Atlantis existed he’d been laser-focused on getting here, but that focus had been on learning as much as he could and proving himself through hard work. He hadn’t paid much attention to the bureaucracy.
“You know Jeremy, the one you think is an idiot?” Tanner continues. “I asked around once because I was alarmed by how much time you were putting in, I wanted to know if that was normal. He gets done less than a tenth of what you do, and he’s been here for four years already. No one else even comes close to being as productive as you.”
Jeremy, for all that he is a colossal twerp, had a PhD and twenty years of experience working on classified government projects before he was chosen for Atlantis.
“You have plenty of room to wiggle here, I promise,” Tanner finishes.
Fir considers this. Tanner definitely has a point, but he can’t say he’s fully convinced. Tanner is looking intently at him, searching his face, and Fir feels so exposed, so vulnerable, but he can’t look away just yet.
“Why do you even care so much?” he whispers.
“Because I love you,” Tanner says simply, like it’s obvious.
Fir frowns at him and says, “What.”
Tanner’s cheeks color a little. “Uh, yeah. I mean I think I’ve made that pretty clear. It’s not like I’ve been trying to be subtle.”
He doesn’t break eye contact, and Fir flinches away a little, torn between shocked elation and shocked horror.
“Come on,” Tanner murmurs. “This cannot possibly be news to you. I’ve been, ugh, courting you for, what, ten months now?”
Fir has to admit, as he thinks back, that Tanner is right. Tanner hasn’t been subtle at all about his affections; Fir just hasn’t wanted to see it because seeing it would have meant he’d have to push Tanner away. In the end it would have been better if he had, though, because then Tanner could have moved on long ago.
He still doesn’t get why though. It doesn’t make sense, when Atlantis is filled with intelligent and attractive people, that Tanner would choose him.
“But why?” he asks, though he’s afraid of the answer. Afraid that by asking he’ll lead Tanner to ask the same question and realize there are no good reasons.
Tanner does not hesitate. “Well, at first I just thought you were really cute. And I still think that, but—”
“You do not,” Fir interrupts him, irritated by the blatant lie. “I look like shit.” He’s certainly heard it enough that he would know it’s true, even if he didn’t own a mirror.
“Well, uh, yeah, I mean, you look like you haven’t slept in a year and you really need to gain some weight, but that’s just circumstances. Those things will get better, and you’re still really, really attractive. But that’s just how it started, anyway.” Tanner smiles, just a little, small and sad. “I also like you because you’re smart, and you’re diligent. You have a crazy work ethic, which I do admire even though I really wish you’d let up some. You have the sort of dry wit that really gets to me, and you’re not afraid to put me in my place.”
“Well,” Fir begins, but Tanner keeps going.
“You put up with all my rambling, and not just that, you’re actually a good listener. You can’t imagine how rare that is, seriously, I love talking and most people just tune me out after a minute or two. You’re passionate about being here and what you do, and you love learning about other cultures and planets. You make me feel good about myself—well, usually. Not so much lately, I guess, but that’s my fault.”
Fir can’t think of how to express just how incorrect that is, so he defaults to kneeing Tanner in the shin again.
“Ow,” Tanner says fondly. “You’re so violent.”
Fir fists his hands in Tanner’s shirt and buries his face back into Tanner’s chest. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not used to this sort of praise, doesn’t know what to do with it; worse, he doesn’t know what to do about it.
Tanner rests his chin on the top of Fir’s head and says, “I thought maybe you loved me too. I really thought I was making progress. But then I got impatient, I pushed too far too fast, and you started pulling away. I’m such an idiot.”
That’s not right either, but the words to say so die in Fir’s throat. He’s so conflicted, he can’t think of what to say, he hates this.
“Please say something,” Tanner pleads. “Tell me you hate me, ask me to leave, but please, just don’t leave me hanging like this.”
Fir wars with himself. He clenches his fists tighter in Tanner’s shirt and puts his leg over Tanner’s hip and moves, using his weight to flip Tanner onto his back so he’s sitting on top, straddling Tanner’s waist. Tanner looks up at him with wide eyes, and yeah, Fir should have known it would turn out this way because when it comes down to it there’s only one thing he can say here.
“I like you,” he admits. “I like you a lot. I’ve liked you since the first day I—well, no, that’s a lie—since, I guess, the second day I talked to you. I’m just... scared. I can’t let this affect my position here, I can’t let this distract me, so I wanted to drive you away. I should have done it long ago, but I let it go on and on because... because I love you.”
Tanner’s smile is ridiculous. It's like it fills his whole face, and it’s brighter and more fantastic than anything Fir has ever seen before. “Well,” Tanner says, “I hope I’ve proven by now that you can’t drive me away, so it’s useless to try.”
Fir ducks his head and mutters, “Yeah, pretty much.”
“I guess I’m even more stubborn than you,” Tanner says happily. “Though it’s difficult to imagine how that’s possible.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you have always been the stubborn one,” Fir tells him.
Tanner wraps his arms around Fir and pulls him down and places little, soft kisses all over his neck and jaw. “Shhh,” he says. “You’re so wrong. God, I love you.”
***
At the sound of the door opening, Fir looks up from where he’s sitting on the bed, trying to get a couple last tickets done before bed, to see Tanner looking like he’s just been dunked in a river.
“Christ, that was miserable,” Tanner grouses, peeling off layers of sopping military gear.
“You’re dripping on the floor,” Fir tells him. “What happened?”
“It was torrential rain the entire fourteen hours we were there! And I guess that’s pretty normal because the local population didn’t seem bothered at all. Most of them were just casually walking around in the rain, buck naked! Oh, I got you something.”
Fir can’t hold back a little smile as Tanner fishes something out of one of the utility pockets on his belt and hands it to him. It’s a bead, deep blue with swirls of cerulean, and it looks like the ocean. “The first thing you brought me was a bead too,” Fir muses.
“You remember that?” Tanner says, sounding pleased.
“Of course.”
He hands the bead back to Tanner so he can place it on the shelf with the other trinkets, and then Tanner climbs on the bed behind Fir and pulls Fir into his arms. He has dry clothes on now but his hair is still damp, and the wet strands tickle the side of Fir’s neck when he rests his chin on Fir’s shoulder. “C’mon,” Tanner says, “that’s enough work for today. You’ve been at it since I left this morning. Have you even eaten?”
“I had some granola bars for breakfast, and CJ brought me dinner from the mess earlier,” Fir tells him.
That had been a surprise. CJ still routinely puts on an act like he hates Fir, but he also keeps doing things like that which strongly indicate it’s all a strange affectation. Fir doesn’t love having even more people fussing over him, but it seems to ease Tanner’s mind so he puts up with it.
“Good old CJ. I knew he’d come around,” Tanner says.
“Just give me one minute to finish up,” Fir says, and Tanner hums in his ear.
Fir fires off a final query, watches the output carefully to make sure it does what he wants, then closes the laptop, puts it aside, and leans back into Tanner’s embrace.
“Hey Fir,” Tanner murmurs, deep and low and soft, and a shiver runs up Fir’s spine. “I love you.”
Fir’s face heats up. He’d have thought he’d be used to it by now, but it still happens every time.
“Yeah,” he says. “Same.”
Tanner nudges his nose against Fir’s jaw and prompts him with, “Same what?”
Fir rolls his eyes and relents. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”
Tanner smiles against his neck and pulls them both down.
Fir knows it’s not perfect—old habits are hard to kick and his, hah, professional paranoia runs pretty deep—but in moments like these it feels perfect. And he’s getting better all the time; he no longer looks like he’s about to waste away and he routinely gets six or seven hours of sleep per night now. He even takes personal days occasionally, mostly when Tanner cajoles him into it with promises of a quiet, lazy day spent together.
“By the way,” Tanner says, “I’m taking you to the shooting range tomorrow, so make sure you set aside a few hours. Your first offworld mission is less than a week away, and I’m not taking any chances. You’re going to be prepared.”
Fir can’t wipe the dumb smile off his face.
They have a ways to go, but they’re making steady progress, and Fir can’t regret his choices at all.