John was tired. The bone-deep kind of tired that went beyond physical exhaustion. The kind of tired when it felt like his brain was wrapped in oatmeal, making it hard to think clearly. John knew the nightmares he was suffering weren't helping. It helped less when he was hyper aware of the fact that his team was sleeping nearby and suffering their own demons. John didn't want to wake them. He didn't want them to worry about him. So he didn't let himself sleep as deeply as he should, fighting against the medication that Beckett had given him.
He was tired enough that Beckett was threatening to postpone the group session with Heightmeyer, and Weir was backing him up. But John was adamant and he said as much when they both tried to bully him out of it. "I can rest later," John stated firmly. "After the session." He locked eyes with Beckett. "Look...I know I'm tired. I'm worried about my team, okay?" And that, at least, was the truth. "They need help and this session can help them. And once they're doing better, I can relax a bit."
"I can't argue against that, Major," Carson allowed, with obvious reluctance. "So I won't. But you're to come back here after the session where I can keep an eye on you. And that is non negotiable."
"Fair enough," John replied. He figured he could charm his way back to his room when the time came. He smiled at Beckett then turned to Weir, who was still eyeing him with concern. "I'm okay," he told her. "Just tired and worried, but we're going to get through this. All of us." John was including Weir, because he knew she needed them to be okay. She needed him and his team to keep Atlantis running smoothly. But he knew it was more than that for her. That she cared about all of them on a personal level. John knew because he felt the same way.
Elizabeth nodded, but she looked a bit grim. "It's been a rough few days and it's not over," she stated.
John knew she was issuing a friendly warning. But he was way ahead of her. He knew there was no easy fix. He knew he couldn't just say a few words and everything would be okay. His team…his friends...were going to carry the memory of what happened to them for a long time. The issue now was to help them face the worst of it and find a way to live with it. Whatever it took to help them move past it and move on. John was a pro at moving on. He had a lot of past experience. More than he cared to think about. Mentally, he shook away those thoughts and smiled at Weir, then he looked at Beckett. "So can I go now? I want to shower before the session. I'm not going in scrubs."
"Aye, you can go," Carson allowed. "But a word to the wise, where something comfortable because you're coming directly back here afterwards."
"In other words, if I'm smart I'll wear my sweats so I don't have to deal with any more scrubs," John translated, teasingly. And it felt good to want to tease Beckett, if only over something so trivial.
Carson patted his shoulder. "Now you're catching on, Major. I'll sign you out and maybe Dr. Weir will escort you to your quarters."
John frowned at that. "Hey! I don't need and escort!" he protested. "I know the way to my room."
"Dr. Weir can escort you, or I can have one of the nurses take you in a wheelchair," Carson countered, his tone brooking no argument.
"You busy?" John asked, gazing hopefully at Elizabeth.
She smiled and shook her head. "Not so busy that I can't play escort."
John was relieved. "Thanks." He shoved the covers off and accepted his sneakers from Beckett. He stepped into them, being careful of his still sore ribs, and then he looked at the Weir. "I'm ready if you are."
"Let's go." Elizabeth led the way out.
"Don't forget to come back here after the session, Major!" Carson called after them. "I will hunt you down if I have too!"
John grimaced and shot a backwards wave in Beckett's direction. "I'll come back!" he shouted. Which made him wince as pain stabbed in his temples.
Elizabeth watched him, worriedly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah...fine. Just still have a bit of a headache." John smiled to reassure her.
"You are planning to do what Carson said, right?" Elizabeth asked. "Because I will send an escort after you if you don't."
John knew she meant it so he gave up the plan to hide out in his room. A part of him suddenly realized it was for the best anyway. "I'll go back," he said softly. "I can't fit everyone in my room anyway." And he knew that Elizabeth got that he meant his team. It had become habit for them to be together at night and John hoped it did help them to sleep better. They needed comfort wherever they could get it, and he would do whatever it took to give them everything they needed.
Elizabeth touched his arm and when he looked at her she said, softly, "Don't forget to take care of yourself, John."
"I will." He made the promise easily, because John knew how to be okay. He knew what to do and what to say to make it through any kind of hell. He would make it through this one just fine.
They were scattered about Heightmeyer's office. Kate was sitting off in one corner, a notepad on her lap, distancing herself from them. She was a hovering presence, but a silent one.
Teyla was sitting, curled up in one corner of the couch. She looked pale and jittery and she would not look at anyone.
Ford was standing at the window, staring out over Atlantis. He looked green around the gills and his hands were stuffed into his pockets as if to stop them from shaking.
Rodney was pacing and muttering beneath his breath. He would pace over to the door, stare at it like he was willing it to melt away so he could disappear, then he would shake himself and go back to pacing around the room.
John was leaning against Heightmeyer's desk, watching them. He felt tired and achy and his head was throbbing, but he welcomed the pain because it kept him focused. He watched everyone and he wanted, desperately, to reach out to them in some way. But he didn't know what to do or what to say. He glanced over at Heightmeyer and she nodded at him. John knew that she believed he could help his friends, but he wished he had some handbook that could guide him.
The memories of what had happened were vivid in John's head. He saw each moment of torture as vividly as if it were happening all over again. The images made him shudder and John wasn't aware that he had closed his eyes until a soft touch on his arm jolted him. He blinked and saw Teyla standing before him, her eyes wide and dark with concern.
"Are you alright, Major?" she asked.
"I'm fine, Teyla," he said firmly, closing his own hand over the one on his arm. "Just a little tired...sorry." He forced a smile and was relieved when she nodded and returned to her place on the couch. "I know this is awkward," John stated, drawing everyone's attention to himself. "But we need to talk about what happened. We need to get it out into the open."
Rodney moved closer, still pacing, and muttered, "I don't want to talk about it!" he snapped. "I don't want to remember!"
John understood that. "But you do remember, Rodney. It won't let you forget, will it?" John knew he hit a nerve when Rodney froze then lifted blue eyes to glare at him. He held the angry gaze until the anger melted into fear and John wished he had a magic wand and he could just wish all this shit away. But he knew there was no magic to help them. Suddenly he knew where to start, with questions of his own that he needed answers too. "Did you see what happened to each other?" John asked.
"No." Teyla answered first. "I lived my own torture and told Aiden and Dr. McKay about it, but they didn't see it and I did not see what happened to them."
"We didn't see what happened to you either," Rodney stated.
Which answered John's next question. He had been telling everyone he hadn't been tortured without bothering to be certain that his team hadn't seen it. Relief washed over him. At least he could spare them that. "Nothing happened," John stated, emphatically. "Other than my being witness to what they did to you."
Ford finally turned from the window. "How did you see it?" he asked, and he looked almost afraid of what the answer might be.
"Through a window in this room. A white room with a table."
"They strapped us down," Teyla interjected, and she looked startled, as if she hadn't intended to say that.
Ford shuddered, hugging his arms around himself. Then he suddenly held out his hands and stared at them, as if confirming to himself that they were still there. "I...I didn't know what that bastard was going to do!" he hissed, his body shaking. "But...but I could feel...I could feel the blade slicing through my w-wrist..."
John moved to Ford, gripping his shoulder, hard. "It wasn't real!" he snapped, wanting to grab Ford's attention and refocus it. Once the dark eyes were looking at him, John softened his voice. "I know it felt real to you...but it wasn't. That's what you have to hold on to, Ford. Look at your hands and know that it wasn't real."
"That sounds so easy, sir," Ford replied as he uncrossed his arms and held his hands out, flexing his fingers. "But...sometimes...I look at them but I can't feel. I can see them...but it's like...it's like they're not there."
"But they are." John gripped one of Ford's hands, holding on tight and feeling Ford's own fingers closing over his and tightening until it hurt. John didn't flinch.
"Those...beings...on the planet, they messed with our heads. Sometimes that's worse than a physical injury. You can heal when it's physical. You can see it and feel it. But it's hard to heal a wound you can't see." John spoke softly, still holding tight to Ford's hand, and he felt some of the tension leave the other man's body.
Ford used his free hand to swipe tears from his eyes. "You saw it, sir? You saw them chop off my hands and feet?"
John nodded, wanting to shudder at the memory, but he had to stay focused and strong for Ford. "I saw it," he confirmed.
"Why?" Ford was shaking his head, his eyes wide and bright with fear and confusion. "Why did they do that?"
"To get me to tell them where Earth is," John replied, and he had to force the words past a suddenly dry throat. "They tortured you...they tortured all of you...to punish me. To make me talk." John felt a wave of guilt wash over him. It didn't matter that that torture hadn't been real. His team had suffered from it anyway. He could deny it until he turned blue, but they had suffered because of him. John locked eyes with Ford. "I'm sorry." It was hard to say because saying the words made what had happened all that more real.
Ford looked shocked, then he blanched, and suddenly he was pulling a way and clapping both hands over his mouth.
Kate was on her feet and guiding him into the other room.
John just stood there, listening to the sounds of Ford retching, feeling his own stomach clench in sympathy, making him wish he hadn't forced down some runny oatmeal for breakfast. Looking at Teyla, John saw that she was curled up into a ball of misery. Glancing over at Rodney, John could see that the astrophysicist looked ready to pass out. John went to him first. "Rodney?" He wanted to hear him speak. John needed to hear McKay say something. Anything.
"I can't do this," Rodney whispered, and then he bolted for the door.
John blocked him, wincing when Rodney slammed into him, jarring his sore ribs. "You can't run away from this!" John hissed, as he gripped Rodney's shoulders. "It won't go away if you ignore it. You have to deal with it, Rodney."
Rodney staggered away from John, shaking his head. "I want to go home," he whispered. "I want to go back to my apartment with my cat."
"This is home now, Rodney," John said softly. "Atlantis is home and you're safe now. You just have to keep telling yourself that." For a moment John wondered whom he was trying to convince of that. Himself, or Rodney?
"Can we go now?" Rodney locked eyes with John. "I can't do this right now. I have work to do."
John wasn't sure if he should let Rodney go, but he realized he couldn't push him to talk. He couldn't force Rodney to do something he wouldn't do himself. "Okay...we'll try again later." John stepped out of the path to the door and watched as Rodney almost ran from the room. He then focused his attention on Teyla. Moving to sit beside her, John asked, "Are you okay?"
Teyla lifted her head from her knees and shook her head. "No...I am not. I feel as Dr. McKay does. I wish to go home."
"Do you want to spend some time on the mainland?" John asked. If that's what Teyla needed to do, then he would fly her there himself.
"Maybe...maybe later," Teyla allowed. "I do not wish to be far from you...or the others."
John understood that. "Do you want to talk?"
Unwinding herself from the couch, Teyla stood and shook her head. "I wish to work out for a while. To meditate."
"Okay. If you want to talk later, you know where to find me," John stated.
"Yes...the infirmary," Teyla said, firmly, a knowing look in her eyes.
John realized he had forgotten about that but she hadn't. As much because she was worried about him, a worry he could see clearly in her eyes when she looked at him. But also because she needed to be close to him and Ford and Rodney. So he nodded. "I'll see you later," John said softly. He let Teyla draw his head down so that they could touch foreheads in the way of her people, then he watched her walk out the door.
"Major?"
John turned to see Kate standing behind the couch. He hadn't heard her approach. "How's Ford?"
Kate shrugged. "Could be better. He's sticking close to the toilet right now and I've contacted Beckett. They're sending a med team to escort you and Ford back to the infirmary. I told Dr. Beckett what happened and he'll give Ford something to help him rest."
"Good." John was glad to hear that. He wasn't happy about going back himself, but at least he would be able to keep an eye on Ford. "Rodney went to his lab. Maybe you could call Zelenka to keep an eye on him?" John watched Kate nod then continued. "Teyla is in the gym, maybe you could go talk to her?"
"I could try," Kate allowed. "For the record, I think that today went well, Major."
John was surprised to hear that and he let it show. "Really? Because I was thinking it was a total bust. I didn't help them...hell...I think I made it worse!" John ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, making it stand up more than usual. "I wish I could turn back time or something! I wish we could hypnotize them into forgetting what happened!"
Kate moved and reached out to touch his arm. She pulled back when he flinched. "This is going to take time, Major. You know that."
"Yeah...I know." John expelled a sigh of frustration. "Knowing doesn't make it easier to deal with. I feel helpless and I hate that feeling."
"You are helping them," Kate insisted. "More than you realize. They look to you to be their focus and their strength, and that's what you're doing. But you need to make sure you focus on your own needs, Major."
John looked at her, sharply; a biting retort on his lips when the door whooshed open and Beckett was there with a nurse. The nurse was pushing a wheel chair. Beckett waved the nurse off into the bathroom and John watched as Kate went in with her. Then he focused on Beckett who was now pushing the chair towards him. "That had better be for Ford," John said, through slightly clenched teeth.
Carson looked grim. "It's for you, Major. Have a seat. And please don't give me a hard time, I'm having my own bad day."
"What's wrong?" John's first thought was that something had happened to Rodney or Teyla, even though they had just left.
"Nothing that concerns you or your team," Carson was quick to assure him. "But I've got a lot going on and I don't need you to give me a hard time. So...sit!" He pointed to the chair.
John could see that Beckett was tired and he didn't want to add to the man's burden. So he sat and let himself be wheeled out of the room. All he wanted to do was drift into oblivion.