Disclaimer: I don't own Atlantis or it's characters.

A/N: Just a short snippet today. Tag to The Storm and The Eye.

Rodney watched as steel sliced through butter.

"You okay?" Sheppard swiveled the knife on burnt toast, raising concerned eyes to the opposite side of the table.

"I uh, just realized I have some work I should probably be getting to."

He escaped the messhall as fast as he could without drawing attention. Stopping in the corridor, he leaned against the bulkhead and drew a deep breath. Reaching for his injured arm, he coddled it close to his chest.

Half an hour later and he found himself back at the grounding station. The wind had calmed, but there was enough brushing past to let him know that, yes, he was alive. His panic waning, Rodney stepped up to the rail, glancing at the calm sea below. Just a few days ago, Kolya had held him over the roaring waters as rain pounded against cold skin.

None of that mattered anymore. He had flailed his arms on death's door and survived, again. Atlantis was saved and today was a new day. So why had he returned to this place every day since the storm? Why couldn't he just lose himself in his work and forget that any of this had ever happened?

"I tried to keep my mouth shut. I tried…I just couldn't."

Well, what did he expect? He was a scientist not a soldier. And shouldn't the people in the city just be glad that he saved their butts, again?

The air was refreshing. He took it in as a succulent wine, savoring the salty flavor. Truth was that everyone was happy to have the city back. No one blamed him. But that was only because Elizabeth hadn't said anything to anyone but Heightmeyer and Carson. Rodney's betrayal was on a need to know basis, and everyone else just didn't need to know. All that mattered was that they were alive.

Alive. It was such a simple concept and yet so hard to believe. Alive. Breathing. Hoping. Working. Moving. Alive…

His stomach grumbled. He probably shouldn't have skipped breakfast but the knife…the way it bore into the butter…at least there was no blood.

Butter was not alive. Rodney was. Rodney bled even as he babbled.

Rodney was still breathing and moving, even if it took coming back here to remember that.

The sun was warm against his skin…not like the rain had been. He soaked in the rays, allowing them to caress and comfort him. He held tightly to the rail, a smile donning on his thin lips. For now, it was enough

just to know

he was

alive.

FIN