Bright

He sat with Rodney at the mess hall table. A month had gone by since he had been released from the infirmary. His…condition…required a continual presence and today was John's day. They usually split it in half, changing shift every twelve hours, but John didn't mind taking the whole day. They were still friends no matter how different Rodney was.

Rodney saw Doctor Heightmeyer twice, sometimes three times a week. The diagnosis was Dissociative Identity Disorder and he was making good progress, gradually becoming more open to dialogue. Slowly, morsels of what he had done during his captive months were released, if reluctantly.

Heightmeyer had explained that, after a traumatic event, thoughts, emotions or memories were sometimes separated from the rest of the psyche. She had gone on to say that it was usually the identity emerging from traumatic events that was repressed after they occurred, but in this instance Rodney had retained only the self that had gone through captivity, denying his prior self. It was atypical but this wasn't genuine dissociation, it had been engineered. If the brain had been fooled, it could be fooled back to its original setting, or so they hoped. Doctor Rodney McKay's brain was a powerful thing and fooling it could prove difficult.

In light of this, the formatting process made sense. Completely twisted, but explicable. Rodney remembered his life before Taulouse. Regrettably, he recalled a series of distorted experiences as opposed to the actual events. The formatting had conditioned him to think he had only been hated, mocked and used. He had been filled with false memories. He remembered all the people he had known but not as they truly were, only as spiteful, hateful people.

This information had only strengthened, throughout Atlantis, the desire to go back to M1F 982 and destroy everything. How could they go on living with the knowledge that something like this might be happening to inhabitants of other worlds?

At least Rodney was not the crying fearful individual he'd been the first three weeks. He seemed fairly content now. They had gained his trust by proving to him that they wanted nothing more than his happiness and well being. It had been such a strange thing to do at first, take care of him, reassure him…like a child. He craved the attention, basked in the glow of protection and love.

John's smile held little joy as he thought that, in any case, it was very good for team building. Everyone rallied around one goal; make Rodney as comfortable as possible. He'd even seen Ronon hug him fiercely the first time he had laughed. The gigantic warrior certainly looked tough but was as soft as cotton. Yes, they took good care of their own. There had been talks of sending Rodney back to Earth but they'd fought it. Rodney needed to be surrounded by people who knew him, who cared for him, not in some mental health facility being pumped full of medicine!

Sometimes, they got glimpses of the man he used to be. He'd grinned earlier, his 'delighted kid' grin. The one he got when he was really challenged or he found something amazing, like a ZPM. The one he'd gleefully flashed when he'd been invulnerable. Granted today he'd been grinning at the butterscotch pudding but, hell, it was good pudding so he had every right!

Licking the last of it off his spoon, John leaned back in his seat and watched Rodney consume his. Some things never changed and his love of food certainly hadn't. It had been a good day so far. John had done a bit of paperwork while Rodney read and then they'd gone to watch Ronon train the new arrivals. Rodney was so easy-going now, it made a nice change. Not to say John wouldn't give his sight to have the annoyingly abrasive scientist back. He would, he would give it all but, from what Heightmeyer said, this was a part of Rodney that had been there all along. It had simply been very well hidden. It only confirmed what they had suspected; the prickly scientist was in fact a very sweet and cuddly man.

Rodney finished his pudding, dipping a finger in the cup to scoop out remaining milligrams. He brought the finger to his mouth and pulled it out, puddingless, with a loud pop.

"Good?"

Rodney looked up at John, really looked at him, full eye contact, and grinned again.

"Yes, thank you. I think…I think I like pudding a lot…"

Smiling, John got up to put their trays away.

"Yeah, I like pudding too…I like pistachio myself but butterscotch is fine." He put an arm around his shoulders and they left the mess hall.

"What are we doing this afternoon Mist…huh…John?

Rodney was happy he'd remembered. John, he wanted to be called John because that was what friends called him and Rodney was his friend. His friend…He had friends here and they took care of him and they loved him. It had been so frightening at first, all these people he thought hated him. Doctor Heightmeyer had explained that they didn't hate him, that a lot of the things he remembered were not true. It seemed peculiar to him but he trusted that woman, she was so smart and pretty. He also had not been hurt since he'd arrived here. Not one bruise, not one wound and that reinforced his feelings of security.

His analytical persona had come back. He evaluated everything and drew conclusions. He'd evaluated everyone's behaviour in comparison to his beliefs and the latter had seemed erroneous so he had dismissed them and chosen to believe he was welcome here.

He spent days in the lab with Zelenka, watching him work. He loved when he explained things to him, like Rodney knew what they were, like Rodney was really the genius everyone said he was. He didn't understand much, Zelenka knew it, but he let him pretend all the same. He listened attentively and nodded. The small man was so gentle and so kind. He was very busy but took the time to come and see Rodney, even when it wasn't his day. In fact, a lot of people spent time with him even when it wasn't their turn.

Rodney knew he was being watched over and it felt good. He got to do many different things, it was all so exciting. Like today, John had said he would take him to the mainland, in the Jumper! They had to help the…the…oh no…

John felt Rodney's body tense. Heightmeyer had said to let him go through the motion, not step in and stop any show of emotion even when they were bad thus he simply squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"John…" Rodney's voice was small and hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"I don't…I…" He sighed deeply and fell silent.

They had reached the Jumper Bay. John opened the rear hatch of his favourite one and motioned for Rodney to go in before he spoke, following him.

"What is it Rodney?"

"I don't remember the name…of…of the people on the mainland…"

He looked so desolate but at least he had not apologised. John figured it was a very good thing.

"The Athosians? Yeah, I try to forget them myself sometimes, especially when we have to go help with harvest huh?" He smiled cheekily and sat down at the controls.

"Come on buddy, take a seat!"

Rodney complied eagerly, the grin back in place. It was definitely a good, grinning type of afternoon.

The hangar door opened to reveal a beautiful Atlantean day. The vivid blue of the sky, the bright sunshine, and the absence of clouds contributed to the two men's cheerful mood.

In this near flawless moment, they almost forgot about the clouds in Rodney's eyes.