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Please see the prologue for standard disclaimer

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Chapter One: Leave The Pieces

Don't go smiling now

You know I'll be confused

Across the table I'm staring into you

Oh, your mourner's eyes fill up with blue

And the night comes in

And it ends too soon

You were always true

But you were sad and marooned.

- Evermore, Inside of Me

If Rodney had told his father that he would one day be living in another galaxy and getting himself thrown headfirst into the face of danger on a regular basis, his father would have laughed in his face and had him committed.

Of course, sometimes he had a hard time believing it was real himself but that didn't mean it wasn't. He had experienced too much, and learned more about himself than he had ever thought possible for it to be some kind of elaborate fantasy created by his mind.

If anyone had asked him if this is where he had imaged he'd be ten years ago, he'd probably have gaped at them like a fish in a bowl. The Atlantis expedition was something that was meant for extraordinary people, with extraordinary talent and while he wasn't about to discredit his own brilliance, experiences like Atlantis didn't usually happen to people like Rodney.

That being said, he probably hadn't always been appreciative of everything that Atlantis was, and he'd definitely taken the personnel for granted. Atlantis was everything and nothing he'd expected it to be. He had never been the kind of person who would willingly put himself in danger, more because of his sense of self preservation than anything else, and yet he had started to look forward to the missions once a pattern had become established.

He wasn't a person who trusted others easily, but he supposed he should have known that the members of his team would mount a rescue operation, and while it had been a success, he still wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.

"Rodney, are you listening to me?"

"...huh?" he asked, startled from his musing abruptly. It wasn't like his mind was working as it had. Spending six months held captive tended to lead the mind astray, and Rodney was definitely no exception to that rule.

"I'll take that as a no, then." Keller sighed. "I know that this is difficult for you, but I need you to try okay? Do you know anything at all about what they did to you? Anything you can remember will help me in my examinations and get you out of here quicker."

Rodney sighed quietly to himself. He wasn't exactly sure just how long he had been in the infirmary, but it had been quite awhile if the worn and tired look on Keller's face was anything to go by.

The truth was though, no matter how many times they asked him the same questions, the results would still be the same. His memories were extremely fuzzy on the matter, so he was little help to them at all. No surprise there either; even before he had been captured, he had fallen into a pattern of not being able to come up with solutions quickly enough. Useless, excess baggage, just as his mother had once told him. At least he wasn't disappointing her, he thought acerbically.

Keller cleared her throat pointedly.

"Oh…right." He blinked rapidly and frowned at the blanket covering his lap, and his hands that rested on top of it. "You want to know about the scar on my stomach."

"Anything at all Rodney?" Keller asked again, a note of pleading in her voice.

He shook his head. "If there was anything, you know as well as I do that I'd tell you. I'm not withholding information. They gave me some sort of...drug and left me alone until it took affect. I'm sorry."

"Me too Rodney," she said, rubbing at her forehead for a moment as she frowned down at her chart. "Well, don't let it bother you too much. I'm sure you'll remember something eventually."

Keller patted his arm with a warm smile before moving away.

Rodney exhaled and stared at the ceiling above him. The problem, he thought, was that he didn't really want to remember anything. Throughout his life, Rodney had excelled at dismissing the things that made him uncomfortable. That way he could ignore all of his shortcomings and focus on the things that mattered, namely science. Ignorance was bliss and all that.

But six months was a long time to ignore. He had been gone for six months, captured during a mission gone wrong. Thankfully, he had been drugged out of his mind for a large part of it. He had lost time, and lost a large piece of himself.

What he had acquired in return was a whole heap of unanswerable questions, an ugly ass scar and a new perspective that he had never wanted to be privy to.

Rodney had always been so sure of himself, but once he had been rescued and weaned off the drugs and awoken for the first time, it had felt like the ground had spun out from underneath his feet. People wanted answers, people wanted to know what had happened, but the truth was Rodney didn't know what to believe, and he probably wouldn't know the truth if it was staring him in the face.

Sam needed to know if he had given away Atlantis' position, John needed to know if they were going to be yet another threat they had to deal with in the future, Keller had endless questions about his health and treatment and it went on and on.

Rodney had been on his own, in a kind of solitary confinement, and he had not a soul to talk to. Finding his voice again had been difficult; escaping the demons of his mind was something he hadn't accomplished yet.

Atlantis had been the one thing he did remember in his more lucid moments. He could always picture her souring towers, the blue of the ocean waves as they broke, the constant but quiet hum of a city living and breathing all around him. Atlantis had been his playground, his companion and at times, his unwilling associate. He had come to love her as much as anything he had ever known. She wasn't just a city to him, she was a living being with a soul all of her own. Once, he had known where his place was at Atlantis, but that time had passed and he knew that it was time once again to discover where he fit.

But the more he thought about leaving the infirmary and venturing out to rejoin his colleagues, the less confident he became. Keller had told him that he was supposed to be released a couple of days ago, and that soon he would need to leave. It was taking that first step that was the most difficult.

Rodney sat on his freshly made hospital bed and swung his legs slightly as he waited for Doctor Keller. It was finally time for him to leave the infirmary and he still wasn't sure how he felt about it. Still, at least it was evening. Most of the Atlantis personnel would be in the cafeteria, in their quarters or still on duty, leaving most of the hallways clear and quiet.

Keller had told him to expect an escort, though why he needed one he didn't know. While the Chief Medical Officer of the expedition was keen to see him on his feet again and returning to normal life as soon as possible, Rodney had learnt that she had expressed concern over his situation. She still didn't know what had been done to him in that mystifying surgery that made him sick to his stomach (metaphorically of course) whenever he thought about it for too long. Samantha Carter apparently agreed.

And so until they had a better idea of what exactly had been done to him, he'd be having someone baby sit him. Rodney wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frustrated. A part of him was grateful that he wouldn't be left alone as he had been for the past six months or so. Some company wouldn't be so bad on one hand. But another part of him just wanted to forget the whole experience had happened, to get on with his life as best he could, despite missing something that had essentially made him who he had been.

He knew he was different. Rodney had always resisted change in the past, but Atlantis had been a catalyst of sorts. Never had he been so dedicated to any one project in his entire life, never had work become something so personal before arriving in the Pegasus Galaxy. Rodney had put everything he was into keeping her running for just one more day, he had invested sweat, blood and tears into every single piece of technology he fixed and improved. In return, Atlantis had transformed him in ways he had never thought possible.

His absence, therefore, had torn something from he that he hadn't known had existed. He felt more uncertain and uncomfortable in his own skin that he ever had, and he was no longer sure if he was fit to be a part of Atlantis any longer. She obviously continued to function without him, and he had learned of many improvements that had been made in his absence.

The bottom line was that he no longer felt comfortable in his own home.

"Rodney."

He jumped, startled, as a warm hand descended on his shoulder, and looked up into the smiling eyes of one John Sheppard.

"Colonel?"

"McKay, how're you doing?" John asked, not moving his hand from Rodney's shoulder. "I heard you're ready to blow this joint at last."

For a brief moment, Rodney hadn't a clue what to say. John had been the one to mount the rescue operation to save him, but since then he hadn't seen hair or hide of him. The man who had always been hard to find at the best of times had been conspicuously absent ever since Rodney had woken up in the infirmary. He had often wondered where John had been, and couldn't help but feel a little hurt to have been avoided like he carried some sort of disease.

Sure, he knew that John Sheppard wasn't well known for his people skills, and when it came down to relationships he probably hadn't the slightest clue what he was doing, but Rodney had always considered them to be friends, even when they weren't on the best of terms.

"Uh…" he stammered momentarily before clearing his throat. "Yeah. That's what Keller says. Apparently I'm to be escorted to my room."

"Well, let's get going then, shall we? I'm sure you're more than ready to get out of here." John smiled at him.

Rodney blinked at him in surprise.

"You're…."

"Yup."

And it all clicked into place for him. They didn't trust him yet. For all they knew he was a new security threat to Atlantis and there was the possibility that he had been compromised. Rodney wasn't a stupid man; he knew how it all worked. He'd spent years working for various militaries on top secret assignments, working with advanced technologies. There was a universe of knowledge in his head that could be potentially deadly in the wrong hands. They had to make sure that he had kept his silence, as he had sworn to do.

A cold, tight knot formed low in his belly and sat there, heavy and unforgiving, a grim companion to the tightness in his throat and the traitorous prickling behind his eyes.

"They don't trust me any more do they?" he asked Sheppard tiredly, rubbing his forehead.

"Rodney, it's not…."

"Why else would they have you, head of the military escorting me to my quarters? I'm not blind and I'm not stupid," Rodney replied softly.

He didn't have the energy nor the will to get fired up about anything but he'd rather they just get it over with as soon as possible. Like ripping off a band aid, it would hurt less and the pain would fade faster. At least he wouldn't be laboring under any misconceptions for months until someone finally took pity on him and let him know the truth. Even if their friendship no longer existed, he knew he could count on Sheppard to tell him the truth.

"When are they sending me back?"

Sheppard blinked at him and didn't say anything for a long moment, his surprise evident on his face. Rodney just watched him expectantly, and waited for his answer.

"Look," Sheppard exhaled and put his hands on his hips. "No one's sending you anywhere. Sam wants to sit down with you tomorrow to talk but as far as I know, no one has any intention of sending you back to Earth."

"I find that hard to believe," Rodney replied. "I've been in the hands of the enemy for more than six months, Colonel."

"I understand why you would think that, but that's not how it happens Rodney."

John glanced around the infirmary, and while it was mostly deserted, it probably wouldn't be the best place to be discussing Rodney's future. Even after the long months apart, Rodney still had that uncanny ability to guess, with fair accuracy, what John was thinking about.

"Look. D'you mind if we take this somewhere else?"

"I'm tired, John. If you don't mind, I'd rather just go to my quarters."

John studied him for a long moment before he nodded.

"Okay, Rodney. But we will talk about this again."

"I don't doubt it."

They'd packed up all of his belongings into battered cardboard boxes. It was lucky that no one had shipped them back to earth to his sister, or he'd be using borrowed or retired goods from everyone else on the base.

He had a new room, closer to the infirmary and away from most of the other living quarters. It also happened to be closer to that quarter's belonging to the more senior members of the expedition. He only hadn't taken rooms there before so he could be closer to the labs.

Still, the rooms on either side of him were deserted, and he had a fair idea that the other quarters along the corridor belonged to people who kept to themselves.

To say that Rodney was conflicted was a bit of an understatement. When he was alone he ached, a numb kind of pain that resounded throughout his being and sapped his strength. It was a loneliness that he couldn't shake, no matter what he told himself or how he reasoned. He craved the touch of another person, conversation to ease his mind and make him forget, for a little while, as he lost himself in the mundane ins and outs of normal conversation. And yet he felt like shying away any time anyone got close. Physical contact of any kind made him jittery and he couldn't stand people after so long in isolation. He wondered if it was some kind of conditioning he'd been put through. It made an unsettling kind of sense.

Rodney stood in the middle of the room and looked around. These rooms were nicer and roomier than his old ones. He suspected that they had been intended for two people instead of just one. There was a bedroom just like his old one, and a slightly larger bathroom, but in addition to this there was also a small lounge room complete with a couch and a sitting chair. Beyond this lovely room there was a balcony which offered a very picturesque view of the city and the great ocean beyond.

Opposite his bedroom however was another room, empty and devoid of any furniture, which led Rodney to suspect that it was indeed, intended for a second person. It didn't look like he'd be having a 24 hour companion/guard anyhow, and for that he was extremely grateful.

Still, as he stood in his new room, with the boxes holding his belongings, he couldn't help but feel the urge to just sit down and cry. It wasn't an urge that he was particularly proud of. He was a man, and he had been brought up to believe that grown men didn't cry for any reason, but given his current situation he couldn't really hold it against himself.

He was all too aware of John standing in the door way behind him, having shown him to his new quarters. Rodney kept his back to the man, not wanting him to see his pathetic display of emotion.

What hurt him perhaps the most, he was surprised to discover, was that they'd packed up his things. It was practical, he supposed, and logical, but that didn't stop it from sending a sharp, stabbing pain through his gut. It had seemed as if they had moved on in his absence easily enough and while that had probably been for the best, he was only human after all and he wanted someone to miss him. He wanted someone to notice that he had been gone and to wish that he had still been around. He wanted someone to miss him for who he was and not what he could do.

But considering the kind of person he was (or had been) he wasn't really surprised. There was no way he could be proud of the person he had been before his capture, and there was no way he was proud of the insecure man he still was.

"What do you think?" John asked from behind him. "If you don't like them I can find you somewhere else."

Rodney took a long moment to look around at the spacious and sophisticated surrounds before nodding, more to himself than to John.

"They'll be fine."

"Want me to stick around and help you unpack?" John offered, hesitantly.

Rodney appreciated the offer, but he was feeling a bit too down to be good company. Besides, he suspected that John was only offering to be nice. He probably had more important things to be doing, and the last thing Rodney wanted was to be a hindrance. It was time he started learning to be self sufficient again, something he'd never really been good at in the past but it needed to be done nevertheless.

"That's okay. I'll do it some other time," he replied softly, looking around and not quite knowing what to do.

"Okay then. If you need anything, I'm just down the hallway," John told him.

Rodney listened to the sound of his door open quietly, but knew that John still lingered.

"It's good to have you back Rodney."

Rodney felt the ache in his chest tighten, and was barely aware of the door closing behind the man before he sat down abruptly and, surrounded by the boxes scattered in the room and buried his face in his hands.

The advantage of having a balcony room, Rodney discovered the next morning was that he could leave the doors open at night and let the fresh air in. Luckily, his room faced away from the sun rise, so it stayed cool and shaded until almost midday.

It was still dark when he awoke, and he spent a long time lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. There was so much to do, so much he needed to think about but he just wished he could switch off his brain for awhile and work on autopilot.

But his mind had never been quiet, not when he had been a child, nor a teenager. Even when he tried to relax, his mind would always been whirling away, producing idea after idea, running through equations and formulas. It was both his greatest asset and his biggest downfall.

Once the sun had risen, he could watch through the open doors of balcony as the sun crept down the nearest buildings and eventually he hauled himself out of bed and headed towards the shower.

With the hot water pounding down on his back, and streaming down in a wonderful waterfall, Rodney finally forced himself to take a long look at his body.

He had lost quite a bit of weight over the last few months. While his arms and shoulders had always been fairly well toned (thanks to situation after situation and lots of arm waving) his stomach had always carried a little excess weight. Well, that was long gone now, leaving only a smooth expanse of stomach, with no muscle tone (like he was sure that Sheppard had). But in losing the excess kilo's he had gained a thin red scar about four inches in length that started between the last two ribs and ended before his belly button.

Rodney ran his fingers over the slightly raised scar and wondered yet again, what his strange captors had done to him. Had they sliced him open and rooted around his insides like high schools did in their science labs? Did they change him somehow? It made him feel violated in a way, and angry, but most of all he was just scared.

He closed his eyes and left the water run over his face, wishing there was a way he could wash off everything that had happened just as the water washed away his sweat.

If only it was that simple. Calling a do over wasn't possible though, and he knew that because he had learned the hard way. There were never any second chances. People died because of stupid mistakes, things went wrong for unknown reasons, technology stopped working, and relationships fell apart sometimes for good reason, sometimes with no reason at all. Life, in all its unpredictability, had never made much sense to him.

He understood math's and science, engineering and astrophysics better than he had ever understood himself, or life or people. It was a sad fact, but one that was true and the best that he could do was keep making guesses in the dark and hoping that they were the right ones.

Rodney had to dig out clean clothes from the stuffed boxes littering his room once he was out of the shower. None of them were labeled, and it looked as if everything had been thrown in with great haste and no organization whatsoever. He ignored the very obvious implications of that and concentrated on pulling on his trousers.

Once he was fully dressed, Rodney poked his head out into the hallway, unsure what to do next. It turned out that he didn't need to wonder for long, because his stomach let out a hungry whine. With a rueful little smile, and a rub to his stomach Rodney set off towards the cafeteria. Some things never changed.

It seemed that, for once luck was with him. The path he took to the infirmary was completely deserted and he allowed himself to get lost in the sound and feel of Atlantis once more. As he walked, light that glowed dully in the absence of people brightened automatically; doors slid open with a pleasing hiss.

It wasn't just the things happened automatically that made Atlantis so fascinating. It was the ambience, the feel of actually being in a city that was more than ten thousand years old, and it was difficult to put in words just how amazing it really was. It amazed him that after so long away from her winding corridors, he still remembered exactly how to get where he wanted to go.

There really wasn't anywhere like Atlantis, at least it two galaxies. Sometimes Rodney wondered how he had ever been satisfied with his life before the expedition. He had seen things he'd never imagined possible, dealt with technology and science that was so far beyond him it was exhilarating and frustrating at the same time, knowing that it was possible because the results were there, but the science was beyond him.

He had all the evidence he needed to believe but getting there had been the hard part. Before Atlantis, Rodney had relied on the knowledge he had forced into his head, but never on his instinct. Surviving, Rodney had learnt, was relying on a combination of gut instinct and knowledge, rather than one or the other. He had learnt to trust himself, despite all the doubts that constantly plagued him. But more importantly, he had learned to trust others, something that he had never been able to grasp before.

But despite all of the things he had learned, there was still the business of living to be dealt with. One still had to get up each morning, and take care of the body's needs. There were still the difficulties of relationships and friendships to contend with and it seemed that no matter what galaxy you were in there was no escaping the messy chaos that accompanied both. It was often hard for Rodney to reconcile the sheer awesome power of Atlantis with the more mundane ins and outs of living. Not to mention all the life and death situations they had to put up with and the occasional tragic death.

But all of that was too hard for Rodney to think about having only just returned to Atlantis a week and a half ago. It was funny just how much one's perspective could shift in such a seemingly short amount of time. It hadn't seemed like a short time to him, despite being drugged for most of it. It had felt more like an eternity he'd been away, like a dark and twisted dream instead of something that had actually happened.

And the hardest thing to deal with, apart from himself, was the fact that things that had seemed important before he'd been taken on that godforsaken planet weren't so important any more.

Rodney shook his head and tried once more to push the problems to the back of his mind. He had a meeting with Sam and Heightmire to get through, and if he was going to convince them to let him get back to work, then he'd need to look like he actually believed in what he was saying.

The cafeteria doors opened for him silently, and he took a moment to glance around. There were a couple of small groups sitting around and lingering over a late breakfast. The conversations were quiet, and unobtrusive, but Rodney still felt uncomfortable being in the presence of so many people.

The smell of warm food distracted him, and he wandered over to the serving tables. There was the usual offering of breakfast foodstuffs; toast, bacon, pancakes, sausages and eggs, with cereal and tea and coffee. Rodney picked up a plate and helped himself to toast and eggs, and a little bit of bacon. The coffee was a no brainer; he poured in milk and heaped two spoonfuls of sugar before turning to find somewhere to sit.

Deciding to forgo sitting inside by himself, he headed for the balcony where there was always a couple of tables set out and a view over the east side of the city. At least he could get a little bit of peace and quiet and not feel like a complete loner sitting by himself.

He stopped in surprise just outside when he saw Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon sitting in a warm patch of sunlight by the railing, half finished breakfasts before them. Rodney hesitated a moment, knowing that he would be welcomed but not sure if he was ready to face them all yet. Sure, he'd seen them (with the exception of Sheppard) when they'd visited him in the infirmary but it was different being out of the infirmary.

But they had been good to him, they had rescued him and he needed to at least make an effort. Things wouldn't return to normal over night, and they'd understand. At least, he hoped they would.

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, he walked over to their table and stood uncertainly, suddenly unable to find anything to say.

It turned out that he didn't need to though, because when they saw him they took matters into their own hands. Sheppard broke out into a broad grin and leaned back in his chair.

"Hey, Rodney."

He nodded in greeting and shifted uneasily.

"You uh...mind if I join you?" he asked uncertainly.

"Of course not."

Sheppard used his foot to push out a chair opposite him and Rodney set down his tray, immensely relieved not to have been embarrassed.

Before he could sit down, Teyla stood up and walked around the table. The next thing he knew he was wrapped in warm arms and he stiffened instinctively, feeling her hand on the back of his neck. After a long moment though, he relaxed and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

"It is good to see you up at last Rodney. We've missed you," she said softly into his ear.

Despite the sudden tightness in his throat and the prickling tears in his eyes, he swallowed and managed to reply.

"Me too."

After another long moment, she released him and guided him to his seat with one hand on his arm before returning to her own.

Ronon, who was sitting next to him, nudged his arm and nodded his head in greeting and Rodney couldn't help the burst of amusement he felt at this typical Rononesque manner. After a moment, he wondered what there was for them to talk about. He'd been out of the loop for so long, and he had no idea what had been happening in Atlantis, what crisis's they had faced and defeated, what was happening back on earth.

But that didn't seem to matter to them, and they started filling him in about everything he had missed out on as he started to eat. He nodded in the right places and asked questions when he needed something clarified. Rodney couldn't help but feel a little bit disjointed though, as if it was all happening to someone else, and he was just a spectator. He wondered if the whole thing was just another experiment of his captors and decided that if it was, then it was the cruelest illusion they could have put him through.

After an hour of listening to them talk and banter, Teyla and Ronon left, claiming that they had classes in the training rooms to attend to, which left him alone with Sheppard.

Rodney pushed the remains of his food around the plate and wondered what he could possibly say to the man before him. They had once been best friends, but now all he could feel around him was uncomfortable and confused.

"You've been quiet," John said eventually.

He glanced up at him, and found him looking out over the rail towards the horizon. Much like himself, John seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Rodney was starting to wonder if things between them would ever return to how they had been.

He shrugged in reply and couldn't think of anything to say.

"Are you angry at me?"

Rodney looked up at him once more, only to find John looking at him, his gaze not wavering in the slightest. He shifted uncomfortably and toyed with his fork.

"What for?"

"For not visiting you. In the infirmary, I mean."

A part of him was, it was true. Another part of him was hurt and confused, but it honestly hadn't been at the front of his mind. With everything he had to face in the last week and a half, his mind was a jumble of half formed thoughts and emotions he couldn't recognize. He didn't know how to tell John that though. Everything was just a little too raw and he'd probably only end up exploding at him with misplaced anger.

He shrugged in response.

"I'm sorry Rodney. It wasn't fair of me to avoid you like that," his friend said nevertheless.

Rodney looked up at him and opened his mouth to say something but John was still talking and he honestly did need to know what he had to say. Why, he couldn't tell. All he knew was that he was looking for some sort of affirmation and he'd take it wherever he could find it.

"It was hard for me to see you like that. It's not really much of an excuse, I know, but it's the truth. I wasn't...brave enough to watch you go through what you did," John told him. He was staring off into the horizon once more, his eyes distant and his arms crossed. "These last few months have been...well, it's been hard."

John laughed, a short, bitter sound that made Rodney wince involuntarily.

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. It was my fault you got taken. I should have been paying more attention then I was. I was distracted by that weird sky, you see, and then you were just gone..."

John leaned forward then, and rested his elbows on the table before rubbing his eyes tiredly. Rodney sat in silence and really studied him for the first time since his rescue. It was obvious that he'd lost weight and not been sleeping well. Dark circles smudged beneath his eyes made him look older than he was, lines scored in the skin that hadn't been there before gave him the appearance of a man who had been pushed to his limits over and over again without rest or respite. It was obvious to anyone who looked closely enough that John Sheppard was a man who carried many burdens on his shoulders, and each and every perceived mistake that had resulted in failure or death hung over his head like a gloomy storm cloud.

Rodney knew what that was like because he had been the same. It became obvious then, that they had both been stuck in their own respective hells. John was laboring under the weight of all the things people expected from him and the death of people he had been responsible for, and possibly Rodney's own disappearance.

Rodney had been kidnapped, presumed missing in action while being drugged out of his mind and experimented on. He didn't actually remember much about any of that, but he had lost six months of his life to uncertainty and fear. He had been dead, at least in the eyes of his friends and colleagues.

"I don't remember much," Rodney said suddenly, surprising both himself and John. "Just flashes that I can't really make much sense of. And I think that's what scares me most. Apart from the...you know..."

He gestured to his stomach and John nodded in understanding.

"But I'm still not sure if it's a good thing or not. I think...if I did remember that maybe that would be worse, because then I can remember the fear and..." he trailed off. "I can't explain what happened. It doesn't make any sense. But..."

He was frustrated with his inability to express himself. Once he had been so free with his words but it was like someone had placed a plug between his brain and his mouth, so only a small trickle could escape.

"It's okay, Rodney. I understand..." John began but Rodney cut him off abruptly.

"What I'm trying to say is that I don't blame you. What they...they wanted me. And I think they would have gotten me no matter what we did differently. You shouldn't blame yourself."

John looked at him for a long moment, his eyes intent, before he dropped his head and nodded. Rodney could practically see some of the tension ease from his shoulders.

"Thank you, Rodney. You have no idea..." He stopped and exhaled before looking up at him with a smile that wasn't quite what it used to be, but was getting back there again.

"We have that meeting with Sam and Heightmire. You ready?"

Rodney shrugged, his discomfort returning. "I don't think...Well. I guess we'll see, won't we?"

"It's nothing to worry about. I'm going to be there with you. Everything will turn out okay," John told him as he stood up.

Rodney closed his eyes, fighting back another wave of tears that were threatening. It had been so long since anyone had offered him those false words of reassurance that never actually turned out to be true. The irony then, was that they actually did make him feel better for once. Especially when coming from John, who had the ability to see through those words and know better.

After a moment, Rodney stood up and turned to go but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder and John drawing him closer. His friend lowered his head in the traditional Athosian greeting of a friend and for a long moment, Rodney stared dumbly, acutely aware of John's hands warm on his shoulders. Finally though, the knot in his belly loosened a little, and the tightness in his throat returned and slowly, he lowered his forehead to John's, closing his eyes and drawing strength from his old friend.

"Welcome back, my friend," John murmured.

For the first time in almost two weeks, Rodney finally believed that he really was back home, back where he belonged.

TBC