Rodney stared at his computer screen, reading the display for what had to be the thousandth time. Just like the other 999 attempts, the words on the screen failed to resolve themselves into any kind of meaning.

"Rodney, we can finish this." Zelenka looked over from his workstation, seemingly concerned. "Get some rest. Or you can go see the Major, I'm sure-"

"No," Rodney snapped, then winced inwardly at the look on Zelenka's face. "Thanks, but I'm sure he's still asleep. He's been in and out for two days, the chances of me catching him actually conscious are…."

"I know the chances, Rodney," Zelenka grumbled. "I just thought-"

"Thought you'd get rid of me?" Rodney asked, crossing his arms and hissing as he forgot about the heavy cast on his left wrist. "I'll have you know, even on painkillers I'm still twice as useful as you."

Zelenka rolled his eyes and went back to staring at his computer screen. "Nevermind," he said, beginning to mutter to himself in Czech. Rodney didn't speak the language, but he could guess the content.

Rodney sighed. It really wasn't Zelenka's fault, even he knew that. And he did want to visit John, really. It was just...he still couldn't reconcile the man that he knew with whatever had attacked him in the cave. And until John was awake, really awake, he wouldn't be able to. He didn't want to sit there in the infirmary, surrounded by his entirely-too-perceptive team, trying to hide or explain away his discomfort.

And besides, they probably wouldn't understand. Rodney was keenly aware that he was a scientist, not a soldier. Yes, he might know how to fire a gun - mostly - and he was a part of the team, but that didn't make him a warrior like Teyla, or a soldier like Ford or Sheppard. They probably considered what had happened some sort of occupational hazard, just a line in some sort of logbook.

But Rodney didn't think that way. At the very least, he was going to need some time to process it. And he didn't think that he could do that without space.

Rodney returned to his computer, staring sightlessly at the lines of text. He just wished that he could take the time he needed without feeling like he was doing something wrong. Teyla wasn't a particularly angry person by nature, but Rodney was sure she'd noticed he wasn't spending as much time with John as she was, and she was probably rather upset about it. No, it was just easier to avoid the situation entirely, at least until he'd had some time to clear his head.

"You should at least get some rest," Zelenka said after a moment. His voice was a little softer now. "When was the last time you slept?"
Rodney cast his mind back. He wasn't great at getting the proper amount of sleep even at the best of times. There was always so much he needed to do, and his thoughts had the tendency to race, especially when he finally actually laid down to close his eyes….

But the past few nights had been particularly brutal for Rodney. It felt that every time he closed his eyes, he saw John lunging at him, felt his arm crack against the cold stone of the cave floor. He wasn't having nightmares, which was something. Every time he actually managed to fall asleep, he stayed asleep fine. It was just getting there that was the problem. It felt that the foundations of his life had been yanked out from underneath him, and that wasn't exactly the best for relaxation.

"I slept last night," Rodney said defensively. Which was true. Kind of.

"Rodney-"

Rodney was also under no delusions that he was, in fact, injured. If he were John, he probably would have completely ignored the broken arm, maybe taking the painkillers he'd been prescribed if he felt like it and blatantly refusing to do any of the other care, even if it hurt him in the long run. Teyla probably also would have ignored it, although she seemed to have goddess in her genes or something and he couldn't picture her getting her arm broken in the first place.

But Rodney wasn't like that. He hadn't lost count of all the terrible injuries he'd received like John had, and he knew the broken arm was slowing him down. It throbbed constantly, even with medication, and the pills Carson had given him to take the edge off made him feel stupid and sick. Carson had told him he might have to go through a round of physical therapy once he got the cast off, which sounded at least as bad as whatever torture they had put John through.

Worse, Rodney knew he needed sleep if he wanted to heal. But he just...couldn't figure out how to make it happen.

"I'm fine," he said, more sharply than he meant to. Everyone around him had spent the past few days reminding him he needed rest. He wasn't actually angry with Zelenka, he was just...sick of it. He knew, better than anyone else, that he needed to rest. But it seemed that right now, that wasn't really an option.

Teyla smiled as John opened his eyes, blinking sleepily two or three times before he managed to focus. Gently, she squeezed his left hand, as best she could around all the wires and tubes.

"Hello, John," she said softly. It had been over a day since John had woken up long enough to have a conversation, but he'd seemed barely able to keep track of what was happening. Since then, he'd awoken twice, only for a few minutes each time. Teyla waited, hoping that this time, John would be able to stay awake. Behind her, Ford leaned eagerly over her shoulder.

"Hey," John whispered, eyes actually managing to track between their faces. That was new.

"How are you feeling?" Teyla asked.

John gave a one-armed shrug and a lopsided smile. "Good…."

Teyla translated that in her head as "pumped too full of drugs to feel anything" and returned his smile. He did look better, she thought. The bruises across his face had faded to yellow rather than the ugly purple, and the swelling had gone down. He was still far too thin, but his face had lost the frightening hollows he'd had when they found him. His eyes, too, looked ever so slightly more aware.

Too aware, Teyla thought sadly, as John scanned the room and came up empty.

"McKay?" he asked.

Teyla held back a sigh. It was clear that John didn't remember being rescued, which was probably for the best at the moment. He was still very weak, and Teyla didn't want to complicate matters by telling him what had happened to Rodney.

But Teyla was beginning to worry that the decision would be taken out of her hands. In three days, Rodney had only dropped by the infirmary for brief visits, always at odd hours when John would almost certainly be asleep. And at some point, John was going to notice. Whenever he was cognizant enough to process his surroundings, he'd asked after Rodney.

"In the lab," Ford said shortly, and Teyla shot him a glance, afraid that John would pick up on his tone.

She shouldn't have worried. John just blinked sleepily and nodded.

"Mmkay," he mumbled, then chuckled to himself. "Hey. Mmkay, sounds like McKay…."

Teyla wasn't sure how to respond to that. John's conversation was somewhat nonsensical at the best of times, and he was certainly not at his best now. She settled for patting the back of his hand and giving him an encouraging nod.

"Tell him...tell him…." John's head touched his chest, eyes slipping closed. Teyla thought he was out again, although honestly she was encouraged by the relative coherence he'd shown during this conversation.

"What is it, John?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

"If you see Rodney, tell him...tell him I said hey…."

"We will, John," Teyla said softly, swallowing around a lump in her throat. She didn't really want to talk to Rodney - she wasn't sure how to do it without sounding confrontational, and to be completely honest, she couldn't exactly say that it was unfair for him to be nervous around John now. It just hurt. "Do you need to go back to sleep now?"

John rocked his head back and forth on the pillow, looking offended that she had even suggested such a thing. "I've been sleeping for...too long," he said, blinking with exhaustion. "It's been…."

His eyes slipped closed.

"You were very badly injured," Teyla said. "Your body must have rest if you are to recover. It is alright."

John frowned slightly. "Don't need rest."

"You do, sir," Ford piped up from the corner.

"This is...stupid, I should be...running or-"

He trailed off, eyes slipping closed again. "You definitely should not be running right now," Teyla said gently. "Just go to sleep."

John opened his mouth, looking like he was going to argue again, but before he could, his eyes were closed and he was out like a light.

Rodney was greatly enjoying breakfast - there were still a few treats left in the freezer which were brought out occasionally, today they had bacon - when he felt someone settle down next to him. He looked up, not quite angry yet but a little annoyed to be interrupted during the best meal he'd had in weeks, and saw that it was Ford. He blinked.

"What do you want?"

He hadn't meant for it to come out meanly, but it did.

"I...think you should go visit the Major. He's going to notice you haven't."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rodney said dismissively, turning back to his food. "I've visited the Major at least three times."

"When he's awake," Ford said firmly. "He asks about you, you know."

Rodney's stomach lurched, and suddenly, the bacon didn't look so good after all. He was not going to feel guilty about this, he told himself firmly. He just needed time.

"I've been busy," Rodney muttered.

"Doing what?" Ford snapped. "It's the Major, McKay."

"Doing my job," Rodney fired back. "With a broken wrist, I might add. It complicates matters."

"That was an accident," Ford hissed. "You know that. He'd been tortured, remember?"

"No, I'd forgotten," Rodney growled.

"I thought you guys were close," Ford said, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Just get over yourself and go see him."

For possibly the first time in his life, Rodney found himself without a rejoinder.

"I have work to do," he said with as much dignity as he could muster, abandoning his bacon with barely a second thought.

"McKay-"

Rodney swept off, ignoring Ford swearing behind him. Seething, he marched back to his lab. It wasn't his fault that he wasn't a soldier, and it was unreasonable to expect him to be.

"I'm a scientist," Rodney muttered to himself as he stomped down the hallway. "I didn't sign up for this. Not in the slightest."

With no small amount of effort, Rodney banished all thoughts of Ford and Sheppard and their ilk. He would visit Sheppard later. Once he'd had some time.

John was back in the cave, arms chained behind him, stone walls cold and dripping. Or maybe, he'd never left. He couldn't be sure. Everything was hazy, his memories jumbled into a sharp collage of pain and fear and a jagged collection of faces and voices.

Someone was coming. John stilled, staring determinedly at the floor. Let them think that he was broken, that he wasn't a threat, and maybe he'd find an opening. Time slowed down, then sped up, and then he was hearing the clink of the cuffs against the rocky floor beneath him. Everything jerked to a halt again, and John sprang.

The Genii pinned beneath him was scared, wide-eyed and gasping for breath as John cut off his airway. Good, he should be scared. He had no idea what John was capable of.

John increased the pressure on the man's throat. The Genii mouthed something, reaching towards John's face. John snarled and pressed down harder, and whatever the Genii had been trying to say came out in a garbled rush of air.

It almost sounded like his name.

John paused, then blinked, and suddenly the man pinned under his arm wasn't a Genii at all, it was Rodney, eyelids fluttering and lips beginning to tinge blue. John felt hands on his shoulders, and he was wrenched back to awareness with a gasp.

He was lying flat on his back in the infirmary, covered in a thin scratchy blanket, the sharp stick of a needle reminding he was hooked up to any number of drugs, the steady beeping of numerous monitors confirming that while he was safe, he was still very weak.

He wasn't in the cave. He had been out of the cave for days. He knew that, he knew that. He was safe now, on Atlantis with his friends.

But Rodney….

Was that dream a memory? When his team had come to get him out, had he tried to kill Rodney, thinking he was Genii? The entire rescue and the few days following it were an exhausted, fevered blur for John. The only clear memory he could come up with was waking up in the jumper and talking to Teyla. But it had felt so real, and John had a horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach about the whole thing.

John managed to open his eyes, even though he was still tired and a large part of him wanted to just go back to sleep. As he had hoped, Teyla was seated in corner of his room, watching him with sharp but tired eyes.

"Teyla?" John whispered. His voice was soft from disuse.

"Do you need something?" she asked immediately. "Water?"

John shook his head. "When you rescued me did I...hurt Mckay?"

Teyla didn't answer immediately, but she didn't need to. Her eyes widened, and that said everything it needed to.

"What happened to him?" John said.

"The important thing is that he is fine now," Teyla began, but John shook his head to cut her off.

"Teyla," he said, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice steady. "What happened to him? What did I do?"

Teyla sighed, flicking one of her hands slightly like she wished she could brush the entire situation away. "His...ah, his arm was broken in the struggle. But it was not a bad break. It is healing well."

John closed his eyes as the world swirled around him. He had broken Rodney's arm. Rodney had come to rescue him, and John had attacked him. He had hurt him, badly. Rodney trusted John, and John had broken his arm.

"Is that why he hasn't come to see me?" John asked. It was a stupid question, he knew. Not the right one. But it made it seem as if Rodney hated John now, and even though that was perfectly justified, it still hurt badly enough that John thought he would rather just get the whole thing out of the way now.

"He has come to see you," Teyla said gently. "You have been asleep."

John appreciated what Teyla was trying to do, but he'd been back in Atlantis for almost four days, and as foggy as the first few had been, he remembered bits and pieces. He remembered seeing Teyla, Ford, Beckett, and even Weir. He didn't remember seeing Rodney, not once.

"Every time?" John asked quietly, but he didn't really need the answer. Teyla's face was enough.

"He will come," she said firmly, and attempted a smile. John wasn't overly reassured. Rodney was a scientist, not a soldier. He had been thrown into this situation, woefully unprepared, and John had hurt him. John couldn't really blame him for being skittish.

"I need to talk to him," John mumbled. There wasn't really much else he could do, other than apologize. Not that that would fix Rodney's broken arm, but it was the best he could do.

Teyla grimaced slightly, and John's insides twisted further. "I believe that he just...needs time."

John shook his head. Time, time wasn't the answer. This wasn't something that was just going to go away if they didn't address it. John had broken his friend's arm. He'd hurt someone he was supposed to protect.

"Teyla-" Without thinking about it, he went to push himself upright. His right arm was strapped to his chest, stabilizing his shoulder, and with only the use of his still-weak left arm, he didn't get very far before his strength gave out and he sagged back against the pillow.

"John, do not try to get up," Teyla said sharply. "You are still very weak."

John gritted his teeth. He knew he was very weak, that was painfully obvious. But he couldn't just lie back and let his best friend think that he wasn't sorry for breaking his fucking arm.

"Get Rodney," he demanded, allowing Teyla to push him back down. "Please," he added, after a few seconds.

Teyla glanced at him, and John saw her eyes soften slightly.

"I will try to find him," she said. "And John...do not worry. He will understand. Eventually."

John knew that she meant to be comforting, but all that he could focus on was how long "eventually" might be.

Teyla paused outside the door to Rodney's lab, gathering her thoughts before she knocked. She had barely seen Rodney since the rescue, as she'd spent most of her time in the infirmary. The few times that they had interacted, Rodney had seemed even more short-tempered and agitated than usual. He'd also been avoiding even the mention of John, aside from the standard enquiries about his health.

Teyla had been hoping that John wouldn't notice until he was better, but she'd underestimated him. Even so, she would have ideally rather delayed a confrontation until John was stronger, and Rodney had had more time to come to terms with the situation, but John's reaction had swayed her. Apart from a few obvious nightmares, John had yet to mention - or be outwardly affected by - the ten days of torture he'd endured. Yet as soon as he'd realized what he'd done to Rodney, he'd gotten a hollow look in his eyes that Teyla had never seen there before.

She could not...that simply could not stand. She understood why Rodney was shaken, but after everything John had been through in the past two weeks, Rodney was just going to have to deal with it for the time being. Teyla would drag him back to John's room kicking and screaming if she had to, although she had to admit that wasn't the option she prefered.

Teyla knocked on the door.

"Come in." Rodney's voice. Teyla took a moment to hope that he was alone.

She also took a moment to wonder if he would have let her in so readily if he had known who it was who had come for him, but that didn't really bear thinking about.

Teyla opened the door. Rodney was looking at rows of Ancient coding pulled up on a monitor, but Teyla knew him well enough to know his eyes were vacant - he wasn't really taking in any of what was in front of him. He was just trying to appear busy, to everyone else but also almost certainly to himself.

He was tapping occasionally at the keyboard using only his right hand - his left was still tucked protectively against his chest. Teyla wondered if it still hurt him. The few times she'd seen him, she hadn't thought to ask.

"What do you want?" Rodney said, voice carefully neutral.

"It is…." Teyla trailed off, swallowing around a sudden dryness in her throat. "It is about John."

Rodney was already shaking his head. "I don't know why everyone's bothering me so much about Sheppard," he said. "I, apparently unlike everyone else on Atlantis, actually have things I need to be doing. I'm busy. I don't have time to spend all day in the infirmary watching him snore."

This felt rather pointed. Teyla felt her anger rise for a second, but this was important enough that she carefully subdued it.

"He is no longer sleeping as much as he was before," Teyla said. "He wakes often now, for longer and longer periods."

"He's on so many drugs still that it doesn't really count," Rodney murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the screen in front of him. "He's like a...like a drunk baby. He's not even going to remember any of this. There's no point in me visiting him now."

"He asked for you today."

This got Rodney's attention. He didn't say anything, but Teyla saw his shoulders stiffen.

"He wants to know why you have not visited him yet. He has noticed, Rodney."

Rodney still didn't turn to face her. "If Sheppard really did wake up, I'm sure that he realizes I'm busy. Unlike you and Ford, apparently."

Ford. Teyla held back a sigh. The Lieutenant meant well, she knew that, but he and Rodney had clashed in the past. And in this matter, with Ford defending the commanding officer that he clearly hero-worshipped, she couldn't picture the Lieutenant being overly tactful. No wonder Rodney was not in a receptive mood.

But John's haunted look was in the forefront of her mind, and she wasn't about to let Rodney get away so easily.

"Rodney, he is upset," she said hurriedly, as Rodney closed his computer with a snap and began to exit the lab. "He wishes to talk to you."

For whatever reason, it had been the wrong thing to say. She watched as Rodney's shoulders tensed even more.

"Upset?" he said. "He's Sheppard." And he was gone, before Teyla could sort out how to set him straight.

The walk back to the infirmary was a long one. Teyla considered not going back at all, not until she'd found Rodney again and made him see reason. But she was partially afraid that if she took long enough, John would do something stupid, like try to find Rodney himself. As much as she wanted to save him this particular heartache, it was better this than letting him reinjuring himself somewhere in Atlantis because Teyla hadn't kept him informed.

As she neared the infirmary, she found herself hoping that John had fallen asleep again. He was still a long way from recovery, and he still spent much of his time sleeping. That would be better, Teyla thought. It would give her time to talk Rodney around. She dreaded actually having to tell John that his best friend wouldn't see him.

As it turned out, she didn't need to say anything. John's eyes were open and trained on the door as she entered the room, and as soon as she made eye contact, she saw his face go slightly paler.

"He's not coming, is he?"

John's voice sounded almost normal, but Teyla knew him well enough to hear the strain underpinning the words. John was very upset indeed. Teyla found herself wishing that she'd dragged Rodney back here, although she knew that would have done more harm than good.

Teyla shook her head, silently cursing both Rodney and Ford for exacerbating the situation. "I do not believe that he means to upset you. I think he is just being...stubborn."

John's lips twitched into a wry smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Those stayed drawn and weary.

"I will try again," Teyla said hurriedly. She would say almost anything at this point, to get John to stop looking at her like that. "Perhaps you should get some rest. I will bring him here, I promise."

John made a noncommittal sort of sound, but he at least lowered his head onto the pillow. Teyla squeezed his uninjured shoulder softly and left the room, vowing not to return until she had succeeded in corralling Rodney.