Elizabeth couldn't sleep. She never could on nights like this.

Rodney had been released from the infirmary a few hours earlier after being confined to his hospital bed for nearly three days because of a bullet wound he had received on his latest mission. It had ended up being much worse than he had let on and had made Beckett swear that as long as they were on that God-forsaken planet, he wouldn't tell anyone. He hadn't wanted anyone, especially Sheppard, to worry about "some stupid infection that I can't even pronounce". Which had been the worst part because it had been Sheppard that had shot him. Not that it had been entirely his fault—he hadn't really been in possession of his normal wits at the moment, but Rodney had confided that he hadn't even apologized.

"Oh, he said he was sorry," Rodney had mumbled, "and I guess that's good enough."

Elizabeth sighed and rolled over, propping herself onto her elbow so she could look at the man sleeping beside her. How often had he come home through that 'Gate bleeding and hurt? And it seemed that every day it just got more and more perilous for the scientist. Whatever happened to the days when the worst thing that ever happened to him was a sprained ankle or a mild concussion? Now it seemed that nearly every time he came home he had a new scar.

Rodney rarely admitted that he was frightened. As far as he was concerned, admitting fear was as good as saying, "I can't do it, I quit" and that simply wasn't who Rodney was. Oh, he would complain and bitch and moan, but that was what Rodney did to make himself feel better. For him, bitching and moaning was as good as hitting a punching bag—it got out the stress.

But tonight, curled up beside her after a night of "I am so glad to be home and I'm glad to have you home" love making, he had admitted to her that he didn't think he had ever been more terrified in his entire life. He had been convinced that that would be the day he never made it home. He had been confused and hurting and frightened and no one had been there to comfort him…

Elizabeth scooted closer to the sleeping man, so that her chest was pressed against his back, and she draped an arm across his shoulders. He mumbled something in his sleep and shifted into her touch, but he didn't wake up. Elizabeth smiled sadly and rested a chin on his shoulder, letting her fingers brush the newest scar on his side. He seemed to have a lot of them now—one on his arm, one that still made Rodney shudder whenever he saw it. One in his ass from the arrow, which Rodney admitted wasn't so bad since it had led to a great night of "let me kiss it and make it better" sex. Elizabeth grinned at the memory.

This latest one, though. This one was going to hurt for a long time, even after it had healed.

Rodney mumbled and slowly opened his eyes, rolling onto his back so he could look at Elizabeth. He smiled sleepily at her, his blue eyes clouded from dreams.

"Hi." He murmured. Elizabeth smiled and leaned down to kiss him on his beautiful, lopsided mouth.

"Hi." She whispered. "How are you feeling?"

Rodney's eyes cleared slightly and his mouth tightened.

"I've been better." He mumbled truthfully. He only admitted pain when he was alone with her and Elizabeth loved his honesty, though it always meant that it was worse than he would let on.

Elizabeth frowned.

"Do you want me to call Car—"

"No." Rodney grabbed her wrist as she reached for her radio. "Don't. I don't need Carson. I just… this is what I need."

Elizabeth nodded and settled down beside him, snuggling close beside his warm body.

"I can do this." She breathed. Rodney rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes.

"It's just another scar…" he murmured as he fell back into sleep.

Elizabeth smiled sadly. That wasn't the truth, but she wasn't going to say anything. Tonight, she was just going to let Rodney sleep.