Young lay in the bed, Rush was curled tightly into his side, head on his shoulder, face tucked into his chest. He lay there running through a possible pattern for a mesh backpack for foraging using the knotting Calvos had taught him which he had been using to occupy his mind. His thoughts had drifted from topic to topic as he lay there finally lighting on the safe and stressless topic of crafts. Not that the article he had been thinking about was really practical.

He sighed and carded his fingers through Rush's hair, trying not to catch on any knots, but it was soft and smooth. He had to pause momentarily when Rush shifted uneasily against him, muttering in his sleep and fisting his fingers in Young's shirt. Young squinted down at the top of the other man's head as the other man twitched before settling against him again. He allowed his thoughts to drift again.

Rush woke about an hour later with a start and a jerk. Young tensed his arms around him, startled from his thoughts. Rush was thrashing, not entirely awake. He rolled slightly towards Rush, loosening his grip just a little to allow Rush to turn in his arms.

"Hey, Nick."

Rush was still struggling against him and Young let go and sat up, rolling Rush onto his back against the wall.

"Hey, calm down." He said gently, turning towards Rush and putting a hand on his nearest arm.

Rush focused on his face, reaching up to scrub his hair off his face and glared at Young. "Where are we? What time is it?" He demanded, voice rough and cracking from the abuse his crying had given it the night previous.

"In a room, quarters I guess, kinda like Eli's."

"Where?" Rush demanded irritably.

"On the unused corridors past the chair room." He furrowed his brow. "Don't you remember last night?"

There was a long pause before Rush spoke. "It's not all clear." He admitted. "I remember, being...unhappy...you...being there...and you dragging me through corridors."

It was accurate as far as it went.

"You know what was wrong?" Young asked him cautiously.

Rush's face went completely blank. "Yeah." His voice was hoarse. He wiped his mouth as if wiping unspoken words away, fingers curling down over lips and chin.

Young squeezed his arm. He waited for a while, watching as Rush's eyes drifted to stare off into a non-existent distance. After a couple of minutes he squeezed Rush's arm again.

"I'm guessing you've been having nightmares about it." He ventured.

"I don't think that's exactly a difficult deduction to make." Rush snapped back, swinging his gaze to glare at Young.

Young held Rush's gaze trying to remain calm. Rush's expression suddenly folded.

"I'm...that was out of order." Rush said.

"Yeah." Young said, his irritation fading.

There was a long pause before either of them spoke.

"It's been...difficult." Rush's words seemed almost pulled from him unwilling, though his expression was more open than Young would have expected.

Young nodded, realising anything he could say would not come close to reflecting the depth of Rush's pain, would be a meaningless platitude. Losing Riley and Carmen had taught him that. He waited for Rush to continue, not wanting to press.

Rush was silent, motionless, but his muscles were tense, his breathing a little shallow. "Hard to admit." He added quietly. "I know the general opinion is I'm a heartless bastard but..."

Young reached out and put his index finger across Rush's lips, stopping him before he could say any more. Rush flinched and pulled away. Young caught his jaw gently and turned his face back, Rush did not resist, but did not meet his eyes.

"No-one has the right to punish you for that," Young said dropping his hand back to the bed, "you're doing a good enough job on your own anyway. We've all done things we regret..."

For a second Young's mind threw him an image of Rush trapped in blue glass and water, beating against the glass, making him pause. Rush moved before he had to continue, collapsing back on the pillow and closing his eyes.

"Tired still?" Young asked him.

"I have a bridge shift." Rush said.

"No," Young told him firmly, "you don't. TJ took you off shift with a migraine."

Rush turned his head on the pillow. "When?"

"When I went and got breakfast." Young gestured at the food on the plate. "You are banished to your quarters with painkiller tea to rest on pain of sedation. Or possibly death."

Rush let his head fall back again. "I didn't even notice you were gone." He admitted.

Young shrugged. "You were pretty tired, had a lotta sleep to catch up with."

"Yeah. Who's taken my shift?"

"Camile. You've got her's day after tomorrow." He looked down at Rush. "You ought to eat, I doubt you ate anything yesterday."

Rush appeared to ignore this statement. Young reached out and grabbed the plate and the canteen, putting the canteen down between them and balancing the plate carefully on his thigh, stabilising it as it wobbled slightly. He tapped Rush on the shoulder.

"Breakfast."

Rush regarded it suspiciously, lifting his head to squint at it sideways. "What is it?"

"What does it look like?" Young asked. "Meat and salad wraps and a canteen of cold sweet tea. That stuff that tastes kinda lemony."

Young handed Rush the canteen and watched as he quickly downed about half of it in several long draughts.

"Thirsty then?" He noted in amusement. Rush did not dignify the statement with a response.

Young picked up a wrap and bit into it. The shreds of meat, though there were not many of them, had been cooked with something that tasted like a heavy spice, unfamiliar and slightly bitter but tasty. Something from one of the planets evidently. It really was quite good, he had enjoyed it hot the previous night and it was equally as good as cold leftovers. There were roasted vegetables of some kind in there as well. Young recognised one of them as the ubiquitous roots from Big River, but the others were obviously from elsewhere.

Young paused from his food to look down at Rush. "Are you going to eat?"

"You can have it." Rush said noncommittally turning away again.

Young gave him a long look, waiting. With a put upon sigh Rush turned back towards him, pushed himself up onto an elbow and reached for the second wrap. Young finished his own and watched as Rush worked his way laboriously through half of his, grimacing as he chewed.

"It doesn't taste that bad." Young said.

Rush scowled as he finished a mouthful. "You don't have to watch me eat it." He snapped back. "I'm not going to feed the rest to the dog, when you're no looking."

Young chuckled. "Nothing else to do." He said with a grin. "No dog anyway."

Rush huffed and went back to his food. Young uncapped the canteen of cold tea and took a gulp. It still tasted reasonable cold. Some of the teas were not so palatable cold, others better. This was one of the better ones, almost like lemon tea. He sipped at it as Rush finished his wrap and brushed his fingers clear of crumbs over the plate. Rush pulled the canteen from his hand, quickly taking several long gulps.

"You want me to get more?" He asked grinning. "Still looking thirsty there."

Rush gave him a withering look and handed him back the canteen. Young had a little more himself then replaced the canteen and the empty plate on the table.

He turned back to Rush. Despite over twelve hours sleep, Rush still looked like death warmed up, face drawn with dark circles under his eyes.

"I'm thinking more sleep would be good." Young suggested.

Rush shrugged. "Maybe."

Young let himself down to rest propped on one arm, looking at Rush. "Or to be honest anything that you do to relax."

Rush snorted turning away, laying back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. "Work?"

"We can doze here all day if you want." Young offered. "But there must be something you do for fun?"

"Work." Rush repeated.

"Something not work."

Rush shrugged and rolled to look back at Young. "Given where we are, there's not much of that here."

"So what did you do? Before we were here? Before Icarus." He corrected.

It looked for a moment if Rush was debating whether to answer or not, then he spoke.

"Listened to music, played it, read journals and books, went out for walks, swam, went to dinner. Not so much once I was working for the SGC."

"You play music?" Young said in surprise.

Rush's face froze momentarily and Young kicked himself, recalling the other man's wife had been a musician. Then Rush sighed.

"I am an adequate pianist." He said with a slightly wistful smile. "Gloria taught me. And I can sing, if I have to."

"Only adequate?" Young said, gently mocking him. "I thought you were a genius at everything."

"Apparently not." Rush said wryly.

"I can play guitar a bit." Young admitted. "Taught myself when I was a teenager."

Rush grinned a little maliciously at him. "Did you have long hair as well."

Young was studiously silent and Rush laughed at him.

"Not very," Young said embarrassed, "shoulder length. When I was at high school. It's pretty curly when it gets longer and gets a bit...big."

"The Robert Plant look?"

"Kinda." Young admitted.

"I can imagine." Rush said, giving him a sidelong look.

Young punched him gently in the shoulder, but Rush just laughed at him. Young let himself collapse down onto the pillow, on his side facing Rush. Rush turned his head to look at him.

"So," said Rush, "I told you all my dirty secrets about being a child, what about you."

Young shrugged as best as he could laying on his side. "I wanted to fly." He said. "The only way I was going to be able to do that was the air force."

Rush did not say anything but his expression and the small nod encouraged Young to continue.

"From when I was about twelve." Young said. "Only thing I wanted to do was fly. So everything I did in school was to get the right grades and experience to get into the air force as a pilot." He paused reflectively. "I had a real scare when I was sixteen. Started getting headaches, thought I was going to need glasses. Thought it would put me right out, but turned out it was tense muscles in my neck from carrying my bag of school and sports gear round on one shoulder. Had to get a back pack instead."

Rush chuckled. "I had you down as a jock."

Young sighed. "Kinda, only to make sure I had the fitness requirements and the rounded school report. I did track, martial arts, swim team. No serious football, didn't wanna risk the injuries."

Lying on his side, Young was a little precariously balanced on the edge of the bed. It seemed a little weird to be laying here together in the daytime when they were not planning to sleep but he found he had no wish to get up. He threw an arm loosely over Rush's chest and propped himself up with a knee across Rush's thigh. Rush reached up and pulled the cover over them. Young settled into Rush's warmth.

"And your family?" Rush continued.

"Mom at home, Dad was a fire-fighter, two brothers, one sister, Clive is older, then me, then Cathy and Max." He sighed. "Cathy and Max are fire-fighters like Dad, Clive is a part time bank teller and house husband, his wife is an editor for a newspaper."

Rush shifted so he could see Young's face. "Are they all married?"

"Yeah." Young said sourly. "They all loved Emily."

Rush's eyebrows furrowed. "So I guess they blamed you for the divorce then?"

Young sighed. "Yeah, good guess."

He shifted himself further down the bed, under the covers.

"Who did Emily tell about TJ?" Rush asked.

Young froze and stared at Rush.

"Not too far a jump of logic to make." Rush said evenly.

Young nodded slowly. "Clive's wife, Nicky," he said shortly, "they were always close. Still are according to Clive." He scowled. "Pretty good bet Clive and Nicky already know about David."

"Not about this though." Rush said with a small gesture of his free hand and a wry look.

Young's eyebrows rose and he paused a moment. "Whatever this is."

"Whatever this is," Rush echoed, "is still your secret."