AN: AP testing is coming up, so if I'm late with this uploading stuff, its cause I'm being a good girl and actually studying, not my fake studying when I sit in front of my lap top with a book open on my lap. Looks real though.
\-\-\
"You are not angry with me?" Teyla broke through his thoughts and he looked her dead in the eyes.
"No," John was a little surprised, "Why would I be?"
Teyla smiled the smile that seemed to say that she knew exactly what goes on in his head.
John shrugged and changed topics, "How was the mission?"
"As expected," Teyla answered with a sigh, "they were very agreeable."
"You don't sound too happy," he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.
"I'm just a little tired." Teyla leaned back, her arms behind her to support her weight.
"Told you not to go," John stopped at that because even while pregnant, most especially when pregnant, women should not be antagonized.
Teyla frowned at him, knowing his full meaning but she knew there was concern and not judgment, so he felt relatively safe.
He wasn't exactly sure when his OCD started. Maybe sometime during first grade because he clearly remembers walking home from the park and how he had to take even steps between the lines while counting as he tapped his fingertips against the fence every four steps, his other hand would tap against nothing every two steps but he had to make up for the difference somehow or else…he wasn't sure. He just always knew he had to follow some weird set of rules that he never entirely understood but made sense.
But he had learned, it had taken him years but he had learned how to control it.
He would let some things slide by, like licking his lips or randomly touching things because they were small enough not to be noticed by anyone. They could be counted as just normal movements. Chewing he wasn't so sure about. Really it might have been how he was eating. He knew he had switched off hands last night but he didn't expect Rodney to notice. Because no one ever does. Not the small things and eating should have been one of them.
If he had a full on thing like what he used to do with doors, which was impossible now, then he would have understood how Rodney noticed. But this was Rodney and unless some sort of disaster by divine miracle hit him full in the face, the man didn't notice anything.
Except he did. As did Ronon and Teyla which meant that he had people who knew him as well as he knew himself. Scary.
"How are you, John?" Teyla asked genuinely.
He was starting to hate that question but he muttered that he was fine as he pulled out his DVD player and set it on his desk. They watched Elf because even though it was no where near Christmas, who didn't like the idea of traveling though the Candy Cane Forest and talking to snowmen?
Teyla wanted him to talk but he was still gathering his thoughts. He wanted to tell her everything, maybe that way she would know that he would be all right and stop pestering him about this because nothing was bothering him.
After the movie they went to the mess and picked up some ice cream before heading towards the closest balcony. They leaned against the rail and stared up at the Lantain night sky as they opened their cheap wanna-be Drumsticks.
"It's not so hard," John said suddenly as he stared up at the stars.
He felt Teyla's eyes sweep over him before looking back at the dark sea.
"I mean, its not so hard now," John took a bite of the outer chocolate shell and let it melt in his mouth, "It used to be really hard. Now, not so much."
Teyla nodded and asked, "What is it like?"
"What's it like to feel the Wraith?" John countered, not willing for this whole conversation to be about him.
"I asked first," Teyla smirked.
"Fine," John sighed and frowned, "It's like…well, kinda…"
He paused, he remembered he had told his brother so many years ago but he couldn't remember how he phrased it. And it was different now, since he didn't have to resist as much.
"It's like…well first off, I don't really know how to describe it exactly. But say you see a Wraith coming at you, your first reaction is to kill it or run, right?"
At Teyla's nod John continued, "Well that impulse to fight or run is pretty strong. I mean, you won't just stand there, you have to do something. So take that reaction to fight or run and apply it to how..." John paused, this was really weird to explain. "How you walk for example but this time you don't fight or run, you take an even number of steps."
Teyla remained silent and John supposed that she didn't know what to say. So he kept going, "Okay, maybe that's not the best analogy out there but..."
He shrugged and hoped that Teyla understood, "It's not a big deal, don't worry."
\-\-\
Earth – 1982
David wanted him to go to a shrink. John wanted David to shut the hell up and deal with his own problems before sticking his nose into John's.
No less than a week and his brother had found a new guy to go to. David kept trying to convince him that this time would be different and it would actually help because this time David checked with the school and they recommended the shrink. Which means now all the teachers knew, at least he could trust them not to spread it around too much.
John believed him but he didn't want the help. He could handle this, he wanted to do this alone because he didn't need anyone else to tell him how screwed up it was to have to walk through a door a certain way because something would happen if he didn't.
But that something may never happen and it was crazy to believe that that something would because that something wasn't even defined as anything. It was just a feeling, a compulsion that pushed at him until he complied and then kept pushing him until he went off some unclear edge.
Except he could put up a defense, he could beat the feeling which was hard but not impossible.
He started to touch things unevenly and forced himself to stop counting steps, no matter how weird it made him feel because he had a lot of things to think about and counting just took all that away.
Counting took it away.
It was uncontrollable and when he did it he didn't have to think, didn't have to remember that when he got home his mom wasn't going to ask him how his day was and force him into helping her make dinner. Then he wouldn't have to remember making dessert and throwing an egg at her because she had spread frosting all over his cheek. He wouldn't remember the soft hum of the radio in the background as he did his homework at the kitchen table distracted by the click of spoons and clatter of pots and pans. He wouldn't have to remember letting her down when he didn't notice that she was getting sick.
Damn it, was this what it was like to stop? He would actually start to realize things. If it was then it might be easier to just give in to impulse, at least that way he didn't have thoughts. But that would also mean giving up control and giving himself over to something that was merciless and demanding and willing to take everything he ever had.