A/N: I haven't had this beta'ed yet so I apologize for any spelling, grammar, syntax etc.

Warning: Hurt/Comfort sort of but no McShep though McShep-ers might still like this.


.LV.

Burden

By Lady Valmar


Song Inspiration: Voices by Saosin

Divagate

Chapter 2

Sheppard shuffled back to his room. He was exhausted. He'd spent the day in the gym, then with the shrink and then in Carson's lab being checked out. Carson tried to give John a brief look at his arms but thankfully he didn't see the gash on John's wrist. When Carson had asked him to move the band he'd managed to weasel his way out of it.

Sheppard smiled at least he didn't see. Oh god who was he fooling? When he made it to his room he dropped onto his bed and closed his eyes. He needed to change out of his exercise outfit but he was so tired.

Rolling onto his side, John clenched the blankets close to him. This wasn't happening. He wasn't reliving it. He pushed his pillow away from him as Serket's laughs began again, her disgusting body on top of him…riding him as he lay there helpless to fend her off.

Jerking back, his eyes opened at the sound of something hitting his floor. It was a glass. Breathing heavily John looked down at the broken glass and rubbed his eye. Damn it all.

He kicked out with his legs, willing himself to into a sitting position. When he'd finally realized it had only been a dream he looked around. It was late and he only knew that because he could see the night sky out his window and a few stars. He could see his blankets had twisted around him in his attempt to escape her.

He felt not unlike being squeezed from the inside out by a mass of coils, as he struggled to breathe. His heart hammered in his chest, the only sound of his wheezing echoing in the inky blackness. He could feel a panic attack coming on.

Okay John, get a handle on this. Remember what the doctor said. Keep calm. Don't think about anything that makes you anxious. Just take deep slow breaths, lay still.

Even as he told himself this, the panic forced him to steady himself against nausea. His stomach wasn't just rocking; it was a stewing pot of overcooked beef. He leaned his head back but it only made the room spin.

As the panic settled, he willed himself to reach for the radio. Who could he possibly call at this hour, Dr. Heightmeyer? The shrink? If she saw him like this and there was the gash and… Oh god if it came to that then he'd have to admit his drug use because this urge to cut was a highly addictive drug.

His thoughts led him to consider the effects of his negative coping…

John didn't need to know what Elizabeth might do if she knew he was injuring himself and had been doing all this time since that one incident. Hell Carson, Dr. Heightmeyer, especially her, they would send him straight back to Earth if they found out. He didn't need a reminder that this could led to him hurting himself seriously if he didn't stop but he just didn't know how not to.

He didn't want to be separated from his home, Atlantis. It was more of a home to him than anything on Earth had ever been. He was trying to make the effort to find other ways of appeasing his appetite for pain but every day he told himself he'd stop and here he was... Maybe being out in the field, fighting the Wraith and letting danger fill him would suppress his urges to injure himself.

God what the hell is wrong with me? Thought John, clenching and unclenching his fists. He allowed himself a small measure of relief but even as he thought that, it was clear this was some sort of forbidden danger. And anything forbidden was usually desired the most. From the way Elizabeth, Carson and Dr. Heightmeyer had explained it to him, it made him want to do it more not less.

It also felt like a badge or something. It was proof that he was in control of his emotions. John shook his head. That was a total lie. He couldn't lie to himself. Maybe, his mind reasoned it was a cry for help. For somebody to save him because he couldn't save himself but he would never ask his team or put this burden on them…because his pride wouldn't let him.

He had no doubt that if he told Ronon, no matter how much the man might honor his requests, the guy would take it to Elizabeth immediately...well maybe. Never mind that, again, that would very damaging to John's pride to go to Ronon for help.

Rodney without a doubt would tell...wouldn't he? So thinking about this wasn't really helping his panic attack although his heart had slowed down. John scrubbed a hand over his face.

So he wasn't suppose to be doing anything strenuous, that was a funny thought because he'd just spent the day kicking the shit out a punching bag and he'd even gone to the shooting range. So they thought he wasn't able to go off-world yet.

Fuck me, he thought. He wanted to go off world more than usual this past week. He felt ready and just maybe all this emotional baggage and shit he'd gone through would just go away. He could lose himself in something positive like exploring another planet or taking on the Wraith or hell he'd even take Rodney's boring science gobble-d-gock to so much time confined to Atlantis not that he didn't love the city.

It was just he was a man of action and he didn't enjoy all this activity free time never mind he needed a better outlet than cutting himself. He couldn't even surf and going to gym was a risk he'd done once maybe twice so far. True his injuries were better but Carson wouldn't like him straining his body further than the doc saw as necessary.

Thought…what did Elizabeth and the shrink expect? That he'd be smiling and saying thank you?

He decided that he needed to correct that idea with Elizabeth the next time he asked to get back to his job.

John figured maybe he'd wait until Friday and then ask her again. He'd asked her Sunday but she'd been very closed to the idea. It was not because of his wounds…which he estimated were as good as they needed to be so he could go off world. No, it was his mental state she was worried about and she'd been keeping tabs with the shrink.

John decided he'd have to wait a week then press again. This time he was going to find a way to convince her but he would have to find a way in which Carson didn't get involved. If the man even got a whiff of his cuts...that would be it.

Then who knew how long it would be before he could again walk through the Stargate at least in the Pegasus galaxy. John shivered, acid bubbling up to his throat as he looked down at his wrist. Another wave of panic hit him, as he thought about how deep he'd cut himself again. He quickly reached for a long sleeved shirt seated on the end of his bed. Maybe if he covered the evidence. Out of sight and out of mind. Right?

His eyes latched onto the whirlwind of messes in his room. There was pile of dirty clothing in one corner with some of his various sentiments he'd brought along to Atlantis and his skateboard topped it off. Then there were the napkins; the other two pairs of boots that had mud caked on them and on the floor around them. There was his disarray of golf clubs and his surfboard, which had managed to make an impossible sideways tip to the floor, held up by his dresser.

Even his restroom was beginning to look messy. It smelled faintly of burnt rubber, human stench and Oust spray. He'd spent awhile back trying to fix something by burning it, the project hadn't turned out well and after Carson's thorough inspection of sharp objects in his room with a small sweep team, he'd lost his fire lighting privileges. So most of the dangerous objects were gone didn't mean he still couldn't find a way.

Like his very clearly concealed knife, which they hadn't found. For some reason that made him smile but not for long. He was happy to continue on with his method of dealing with his pain, if they wouldn't let him go off world.

What a piece of work I must be? Thought John, finding his strength to make it to the restroom. He carefully took care of his latest injury before tugging his long shirt back down. Then without really thinking he radioed on a whim.

He felt so drained like he was in a humid area. He knew that wasn't right because the temperature controls were set at a cool 70 degrees. John took deep breaths and cried out when scratched the wound through the small band aide. Damn it.

John felt anger and pressed hard on the gash only to feel his stomach roll again. Another panic attack, the third he would have in the same hour. John clenched his eyes and tried hard not to think about the pain as he made himself let go of it. Just the thought of how the knife had touched his skin and the way he'd smiled as he'd watched it bleed made John sick to his stomach. He dropped to his knees, he needed desperately to get away from it all. Fresh air, he needed fresh air.

Trying to retrace those breathing steps again, he managed a steady breathing, it was just enough to control his voice. He tapped the radio for Rodney and none too surprisingly the grumpy scientist answered. The gruff and irritated voice coughed into the radio.

"What is it?" Rodney responded his voice full of agitation.

John wanted to say forget it and hang up, just let the man have his peace but he needed...something. Anything at all. He felt like a drowning man…reaching for land as the tide pulled him under.

John told himself, just talk to Rodney and tell him what is going on. Come on John. You know this is only going to make things worse. He cleared his throat, it was now or never.

"Look, I..."

"Sheppard?"

He sat on his bathroom floor and began breathing heavily. He could do this. He could tell him. "I could really..."

There was a pause as he waited. It sounded like Rodney was doing something.

"Look, I'm really busy at the moment. I've got a tricky experiment going but...are you okay?"

"Just forget I called," John said gruffly back, yanking the headpiece off his head. He should have known it was a mistake to have called Rodney. He should call him back and tell him anyways but he wasn't going to waste his time on someone who clearly had better things to do and he just didn't have the energy to bother.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the sink counter. "You're really messed up John," he told himself. "Great now I'm talking to myself."


Rodney had been running late but with all that had happened he was kind of grateful not to go back off world at the moment. The time had given him more room to take care of some experiments and projects he'd been putting off ever since the last mission.

Recently the team had paired up with Major Lorne's in John's absence and had been off world but it hadn't done much. They'd come back pretty much empty handed. It didn't matter to Rodney because it gave him more time to figure out what to do.

He didn't know how to exactly handle John's situation. They weren't the best of friends but they'd come a long way since the beginning. He'd tried to give support but he was really out of his league with this one. Sheppard...raped?

Now that wasn't something he'd ever thought possible. He knew it could have very well been him in Sheppard's place, which was why he was grateful he'd been spending more time in the lab then in his room or messing around with laundry like Sheppard had.

Rodney shook his head. The whole thing was just bizarre if nothing else. He couldn't think of any other word to describe it. How did a guy get raped anyways? Oh right…drugs. Rodney returned his focus back to the project in front of him. He'd been experimenting with some sort of electrical generator the Ancients kept in one of the artifact rooms. With him he had several tools which measured its pressure, electrical charge and the unique frequency it had.

The generator was strictly meant to power up other ancient devices in the research labs etc so that meant it had nothing worth value other than its limited power that was remaining. Still he'd done all the standard produces just to be sure.

It was a waste in his opinion but something had made him reconsider when he'd gotten a unique signature reading indicating data might somehow be stored within this generator but it really shouldn't have been possible.

He was also running a series of analysis tests on Atlantis's power distribution system to see where he could improve efficiency. On top of that he was keeping watch of Sheppard's security camera. Which had been placed directly outside the man's door. It wasn't something he'd been asked to do but he felt obligated since the cutting incident had occurred.

Honestly he didn't see much harm in it. Sheppard was just upset over what had happened to him reasonably he was a little emotional unstable at the moment, even if Sheppard didn't want to admit it. If it had been him instead of Sheppard, then he might have been tempted to do more...

Rodney shuddered about what might have occurred to him after the fact. What would he have done or felt? It was then his radio crackled to life for the third time that hour. For crying out loud, it was 2:30 in the morning what was so pressing that people needed to keep bugging him?

He cleared his throat and felt a cough explode when he'd been about to answer. Scowling he answered, knowing he sounded sour. "What is it?"

"Look, I..."

"Sheppard?" Rodney answered, a little less agitation in his voice.

Well it wasn't that Rodney didn't mind Sheppard contacting him but he was really busy. Okay try to be reassuring and address his concerns or if he just needs you to listen then be attentive... Rodney remembered from Dr. Heightmeyer's session with the team. Okay being attentive.

He waited for him to answer and got a weird thudding sound along with heavy breathing. He really hoped John wasn't doing something gross and trying to bother him with it. Rodney shuddered.

Get real, he sounds not too good. Not like he's doing something gross. Just try to be attentive.

"I could really..."

But as soon as he'd heard John's voice, the data pad in his hand began flashing. There was data on the machine! This was something he'd been hoping for or rather something he'd been sure of. He wrote the details quickly, then realized Sheppard hadn't finished what he had wanted to say. Now was not the best time anyways...

"Look, I'm really busy at the moment. I've got a tricky experiment going but..." Rodney thought for a moment realizing he'd been less than reassuring, attentive and helpful. So he pressed on careful, "...are you okay?"

"Just forget I called," John said gruffly back.

"Sheppard?" Rodney asked into the radio, hearing the head phone squeak. Something told him this wasn't good. He quickly took down all his findings and shut down the generator. He left the mapping program for the efficiency of power distribution in Atlantis on. He could go over those readings later. Sitting there for a moment, he processed the very strange radio call he'd just gotten.

Something didn't sound right. Sheppard had sounded like...like he was having some kind of fit or was about to puke his guts out. Rodney shook his head. "Panic attack."

That was all he needed to remember from Heightmeyer's session. She'd explained what they were, but how could he not know about them. He had had several of them through out his stay in Atlantis. But why was Sheppard calling him?

Maybe he couldn't handle his panic attack? Rodney left his lab. He was going to find out what exactly was going on because it would do no good to make assumptions and then find out later he'd been wrong. Upon reaching Sheppard's door, he could hear a crashing sound.


John sat still as he watched his shampoo bottle seep down his drain. It didn't help his panic attack but it had distracted him from it for a few minutes. How the hell was he going to convince Elizabeth he was ready to go out in the field?

He knew he wasn't ready if only because as being in charge of his team if he lost his cool and got them injured... Or if he had a panic attack. As a leader he couldn't afford to let these petty attacks jeopardize his team. John wheezed and went over the breathing steps again. When he'd made his fifth deep breath, he heard Rodney call his name.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He knew he looked horrible, maybe worse than horrible. It didn't stop him from trying to keep some of his pride. "Rodney, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You had one of those panic attacks didn't you? Why didn't you just tell me on the radio? And what was that crashing sound?" Rodney complained.

John had enough control to roll his eyes. He didn't figure there was anything to say or convince Rodney to go but he still gave it his best shot. "Rodney, just go away."

He lowered his head on his knees, which he'd brought up to his chest. Everything had gone so wrong. Why was he bothering with thinking about things he couldn't change? He felt so...

Even the words escaped him. He couldn't face any of them right now, especially Rodney. Maybe he just needed to go get some sleeping pills and crash. That was all. Some sleep sounded pretty good right now. Just close his eyes and not dream. Maybe not have to ever wake up. Just drift off into empty space...

"Sheppard!"

John's eyes snapped open to see Rodney standing over him. "How...?"

"I over rode the door's lock and came in. Now what's going on?"

"Just go away Rodney."

Rodney sunk down onto his hunches making faces. "No, you've had a panic attack and wanted to talk to me. I ignored you like usual being insensitive. So here I am in person. Now talk."

"Pretty analytical even for you Rodney. Just get the hell out of here...please." He knew he looked pretty bad but having Rodney here with him wasn't changing anything. He closed his eyes; maybe if he pretended Rodney wasn't there, Rodney would take the hint and go away.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to support and listen."

John had to admit that what Rodney had just said sounded really forced and maybe a bit annoyed. Should he risk telling him? He had been about to tell Rodney over the radio. That was what Rodney was here for to talk but if he told him it would freak out Rodney. The guy would go running to Elizabeth in an instant. He wouldn't be on Atlantis for much longer.

He couldn't let that happen at all costs. He wouldn't let that happen. He just wouldn't. He couldn't. He wasn't going back to Earth. Not now.

"Sheppard?" Rodney said, putting a hand on John's shoulder.

He hadn't even realized it but he'd been pressing the wound on his arm, hard. Now the pain was back he could see red starting to show through his thin shirtsleeve. He was too late to cover it up before Rodney saw.

"You're bleeding!" Rodney exclaimed, reaching for his discarded mic.

"Rodney no! Don't," John screamed. He pulled the headphone out of Rodney's hand and stuffed it into his pocket. "You can't..." He wheezed helplessly as he sank back against his sink. "Just get out."

For several moments after the scramble for the headphone, Rodney's shouts and his own they sat there unmoving. He tried to avoid contact but he found it was kind of hard. He put pressure on the wound, what good it did.

"You can't expect me to just sit here and watch you bleed...oh my god. You've...You've..." Rodney said pointing his finger at John.

"I've what!" John snapped.

Rodney's eyes widened. "You...you did that to yourself, didn't you? You did." He said quietly, slumping down against the doorframe, angling himself to face John.

John looked away. He had never felt more ashamed than this moment. He wish he could just go hide in his closet and disappear. This was one of the worst moments of his life. Not even going through divorce could quite compare to this.

"Why?" Rodney asked, clearly perplexed. When he didn't get an answer, he gently put a hand on John's shoulder again and asked timidly, "John?"

It was the first time Rodney had ever used his first name and it did what Rodney had meant it to do, catch his attention. He turned and looked at him. "Because then I don't have to face reality. I don't know... Maybe then I don't have to say to myself...you've been raped. I can pretend it didn't happen..."

"But it did."

"I know that Rodney..." John hissed.

"Okay no need to take my head off. Normally it should be me snapping at you," Rodney said, concern evident in his face.

John hesitated, "Rodney...please don't...tell...anyone...alright."

Rodney froze mid breath and let it out quickly. He could see Rodney was processing on what he wanted to say. There wasn't much he could do if Rodney did tell Elizabeth but he hoped Rodney would at least consider his wishes. They'd come along way since that first day on Atlantis, maybe that would count for something? Anything?

Maybe if he explained why or maybe if he told him... John bit his lower lip. "I don't want to lose my job or be taken off Atlantis or be told I can't lead the team..." John added quickly, hoping Rodney would understand.

Rodney's mouth opened but he didn't say anything. He just sat there his hand still on John's shoulder, his eyes on the wound and clearly thinking about it.

"I...am supposed to report this. Shep..."

"John," Sheppard added.

"Yes...ah right. I shouldn't not report this. You realize my position. If I knew about this and I didn't say anything then there could be serious repercussions about it. It's to help you and I wouldn't want to do anything that could make things worse for you but..."

John asked. "And..."

"This isn't good," Rodney said, pointing at the wound on John's arm.

"I know that Rodney but please…Rodney I need you to trust me. Remember one time you asked me to trust you…"

"Yeah and I blew up 3/4s of a solar system."

"Okay point taken but why can't you just trust me?"

Rodney took a deep breath as he thought about it and then said. "At least could you let me see it and I'll decide. I can't believe I'm evening considering what you're asking of me."

John sighed; maybe there was still some hope for his job. "Okay...thanks."

He rolled his sleeve back up and slowly took off his sweatband, which had become soaked with blood on the top. The small gauze bandage had become seeped with blood too. He slowly peeled the tape off the end and unwrapped it to show to Rodney.

Rodney's light gasp told him it wasn't good. "What did you use?"

"My pocket knife. It's in my bedside table. So going to report me?" John asked, looking away, shame lighting his face.

Rodney hesitated before answering. "I think we should clean this. My god Sheppard…" He stood up and searched through John's sink cabinet. "So is there an actual medical kit anywhere?"

"Yeah...bedside table." John's reply had been dull and he lowered his head.

Rodney looked back at the deep gash before he went to John's bedside table.


Rodney rummaged through the drawer, until he found what he'd been looking for. This was on a whole new level now. He'd seen his sister's friend do this but at the time he hadn't understood it. Rodney had to tell…but John had asked him to trust him… So where did that leave him?

Rodney wasn't sure what to do but he at least had to make sure John didn't do this again. He picked up the pocketknife, which still had a few bloodstains on its handle and put it in his pocket.

What was he going to do? He had to tell, if he didn't how much worse would he feel. He would not only risk John's life if he didn't; he'd be putting his own career on the line. If he did and John lost his job... Rodney closed his eyes and gave a small yawn.

His thoughts brought him back to Jeannie and her friend Junie. What would he have done if it had been Jeannie… or if it had been himself? Rodney couldn't even fathom it right now. What would he have wanted if their positions were reversed? Then something struck him…they'd have to make a compromise...or rather John would.

Finally he grabbed the medkit, sought a clean washcloth and went back to where Sheppard was dabbing the blood that had begun to dribble down his arm and onto the floor.

"Okay here's a clean wash cloth. Uhh...put pressure on it," Rodney told him, opening the med kit to look for those alcoholic wipes.

"Oh thanks Dr. Mom."

Rodney didn't say anything.

He watched John take the cloth and apply pressure, an indescribable look on his face. He observed that John's brow had sweat on it and he looked weary. Like someone who hadn't slept well in a long time, which he figured was probably the case.

How could Sheppard do this? He really thought that the whole cutting thing had been just a one time deal. It had bothered him but he'd never thought that Sheppard would really consider hurting himself because he'd been raped.

He should tell Carson right now and report to Elizabeth about what is going on. He really should... But to not have Sheppard here on Atlantis...that was not something he'd even considered. Would Elizabeth really tell Stargate Command about this? He figured that once they heard about it, John would be shipped home and booted out of his military career due to mental health reasons.

It just wasn't fair. Sheppard hadn't deserved what had happened to him and he certainly didn't want the end result to be for Sheppard to be booted out of his career but he also didn't want Sheppard doing this anymore. It wasn't just sick, it was dangerous. Sheppard could accidentally cut too deep one day and bleed to death. Or he could end up with an infection that could make him loose his arm or make him even die from it.

Rodney would never live with himself if that happened and he hadn't reported the incident it make him feel terrible but he also couldn't stand the thought of not having Sheppard on Atlantis or leading their team. It was just wrong. This whole thing was just wrong. Then there was that whole trust and guilt lasso Sheppard had thrown at him.

Rodney wasn't sure if the compromise would work but damn it all boiled down to the guilt lasso and the thought of what would he really do if Sheppard was booted out for good? Rodney gave up the debate in his head, his final decision was the only course. This was going to be hard. He had never been good at being stern but he knew it was what he'd need if their positions were reversed.

John looked up. "It's stopped."

Rodney nodded and pulled out an alcoholic wipe. "Uh…here."

As John opened it and applied it to his wound, wincing, Rodney pulled out a piece of white padding, the gauze, medical tape and Triple Antibiotic Ointment. Once John had dried the area well, Rodney applied the ointment to the sterile padding.

"I can do this my..."

"Don't," Rodney said quickly, as he put the padding on John's wound. Then using a piece of the tap he secured it on before he began wrapping it with the gauze. Once he'd finished, he tapped it off.

"Rodney..." John started again.

Rodney gave him a stern look, or at least he hoped it was a stern look, before he began seeking out some aspirin for the pain Sheppard had to be in. After a quick search he discovered there was Advil, Motrin, aspirin and Tylenol in the kit. Why were there four different medicines? They all did the same thing. He picked out the Motrin, that was the only one that seemed to do the trick for himself.

"I'll be right back with some water," Rodney said, after he handed two Motrin's to Sheppard.

When he'd come back, he handed the water glass to Sheppard and cleaned up the small mess he'd made with the kit. Once he'd returned the kit, in which he made sure to remove those small scissors Dr. Beckett's sweep team didn't catch, he checked the wound for the last time and then he offered a hand to John.

Sheppard gave him a stare but finally took it when Rodney didn't move. "Rodney..."

Rodney cleared his throat. Stern. He had to be stern. "Let's sit down first then you'll listen to what I have to say."


John followed Rodney into his bedroom and took a seat on his bed while Rodney took his desk chair. This wasn't good. Rodney looked really upset. He'd never seen Rodney like this. He'd seen him fussing, and when he was going on about his ego but he'd never had Rodney talk to him like this or be so caring either.

"I really don't even know where to begin..." Rodney began.

"You took the knife didn't you," John asked, feeling uncomfortable about everything that had happened tonight. It was the first thing that came to mind. He knew it was obvious that Rodney had but for some reason asking him about it took his mind off the situation for a moment.

"Yes, anything else I should know about? Like other knives, matches, lighters? A sword?"

John shook his head shamefully. "There is a lighter underneath the mattress and a smaller knife taped to the metal post of my skateboard..." He kept his eyes down, this was so humiliating. He wasn't even thinking about how uncomfortable he was feeling or about getting his mind off it because the humiliation was more pressing. He watched as Rodney picked up his skateboard, and found the knife. Sheppard reached under the mattress and handed the lighter to him as well.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing, okay," John said irritably.

Rodney sat back down across from him on the desk chair, putting the lighter into his pocket along with the other two knives. "Now...I don't care why you're doing this. Ah…if it's because you can't deal with what happened or you're trying to focus on that or what not. Just stop. It's sick...Shepp...John. Understand?" Rodney said, a sense of authority in his voice.

"Rodney..."

"I don't want to hear it. You stop this now. Today and if I catch you again or find out you've been hiding it from me, I will have to report it."

John nodded slowly and miserably. "So you're actually going to keep quiet?"

"Well I really didn't want to but I'll give you a chance. You've given me your trust more times than I think I've deserved and so I owe you the same at least enough not to tell for right now. If I end up in trouble so be it but if I find out you've done it, it will only make me realize that I made a mistake in trusting you even that much. Can I trust you even that much?"

John scratched his neck. "Yes."

Rodney crossed his arms. "I don't want to see this again. You want to keep your job and let me keep mine then you'll stop. I will make a compromise with you, seeing as I can't completely expect you to not be tempted, I'm going to keep a closer eye on you. If that means babysitting then I will."

He looked up. "Oh come on, Rodney."

"No, I am serious. This is really dangerous. I saw my sister's friend Janie end up in a psycho ward because of this. To be honest I really thought that cutting incident was just a one time thing but to see this…Did I mention this is sick?"

"Okay. I get it." John said stubbornly, frowning.

"So since you're obviously suppose to be sleeping right now. Sleep," said Rodney, indicating to the bed with his head.

John blinked his eyes a little. Rodney couldn't be serious could he? Sleep with him in the room watching? "With you watching me? No way. That's going too far Rodney. This is ridiculous I'm not a child. This is so stupid."

"No, it's not. If you can't sleep then join me in the lab. I'm going to keep my eyes on you and if I find your trust worthy enough I'll slowly give you space. I'm not going debate this with you. Either you do it my way or we go see Dr. Beckett right now."

John glared, Rodney could not do this to him! But dammit he was right. Maybe the cry for help had been answered. A wave of something he couldn't describe washed over him.

Once he was sure it was gone he opened his eyes and resigned to the fact that it was better to do it Rodney's way then lose both of their careers. "Okay...let's go to your lab."

"Good." Rodney nodded and John followed him out of his room. Once they had made it to the lab, John took one of the chairs opposite the lab table Rodney was working on. Rodney grabbed his mug of coffee and drank from it before he reviewed the data pad he'd picked up.

"I'm going to be working on this generator for the next hour. Let me know if you need anything. If you decide you want go to sleep let me know and we'll go back to your room."

John watched, slightly exasperated at the thought of Rodney watching him sleep. How disturbing was that? He fiddled with a few tools lying on the table before Rodney went over and took them from him.

"Hey..."

"Their sharp you might try something with them."

"I wouldn't," John said defensively. How could Rodney say that?!

"I don't trust you right now. If you're bored you can go over some of the lab reports. You might actually learn something from it."

Sheppard rolled his eyes at Rodney's back and then frowned at the reports. He picked up one. "Fine," he said stubbornly, realizing the effect was lost, as it made him sound more immature than anything else at the moment.

After 10 minutes had passed, he felt like he was going to explode or turn into a pile of soft serve ice cream. It was one of the driest reports he'd ever read. Maybe he could try a conversation at least that was better than the lengthy silence.

"So...do you think if I asked Elizabeth at the end of this week, she'd let us go off world?"

Rodney turned and gave him a surprised look. "If by the end of this week you prove to me that you're not going to or plan to hurt yourself ever again. You prove you're trustworthy to me and actually make an effort in those sessions with Dr. Heightmeyer…"

"Oh the shrink…"

Rodney sighed. "Yes the shrink…than I'll back you up. I can't guarantee that Elizabeth will let you, mainly because it all goes back to Heightmeyer's influence but I'm sure if you can show your doing better that Elizabeth will okay you."

"There's Carson…"

Rodney shrugged. "That too."

John nodded. "Uh…thanks for trusting me."

Rodney shook his head. "Yeah well don't make me regret that. Besides it's what frie...uhh...family is for."

John smiled slightly, a feeling of warmth engulfing him. He'd never had anyone do what Rodney had done for him. Of course he'd never been raped nor cut himself like this either.

"Now...if you're done with those very dry reports," Rodney grinned, "How about helping with this experiment?"

John glared. "You did that on purpose?"

All he got in response was a shrug from Rodney.