Chapter Six: Long, Long Way From Home

When every boat

Has sailed away

And every path

Is marked and paved

When every road

Has had its say

Then I'll be bringing you back

Home to stay

- Josh Groban, Home To Stay

Rodney stared at the ceiling dully and wondered for the umpteenth time when he would be getting back to the old reality because whatever sick joke he was involved in had gone way past the point of funny. He had foolishly thought that the whole thing would be over, that he could go back to work and live his life as he always had, he'd been wrong, again.

As he'd already decided, he was being punished for something and obviously the punishment hadn't ended just yet. Not for the first time he wondered where his life had gone so wrong and what he had done to deserve all the bad things that had happened. Maybe it was him being too self centered; maybe it could have happened to anyone and he had just been having a bad day. Or a bad year, depending on how you looked at it. But once thing was for certain, he wouldn't wish his fate on anyone, no matter how bad a person they were.

The operation had been unsuccessful. When Keller had attempted to remove the...thing from his stomach, the device attached to his spine had gone haywire. His heart rate had sky rocketed and then stopped altogether. It had taken them three minutes to get it started again, and Keller had promptly called it quits. She had learned more about the device and the corresponding womb though, but that did little to cheer Rodney up.

It had been a day ago since she had told him. He'd had more tests run, more scans done but it was clear that nothing could be done for him and he'd be forced to live with the abomination within him for the rest of his life.

At first he'd been numb. He hadn't been able to speak, his mind had frozen and he had gone into total shock. He'd been so confident that everything would work out all right, but it seemed that his luck had finally run out on him.

Rodney had refused visitors for the entire day because he couldn't look anyone in the eye. The black depression that had enveloped him on his return to Atlantis had returned, crushing the breath out of him and making him think things that should have scared him, but didn't.

He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. A part of him wanted to bury himself somewhere, in some dark hole and never show his face again. The shame of it all made him want to cry, and the anger at the injustice of it all threatened to rip him apart at any moment.

And the truth of it all, the bare, harsh truth was that he could never go back to his old life; he could never be the old Mckay that everyone knew and hated. It would never be that simple again. He'd have to live with his dirty little secret and pray to god that no one ever found out back on Earth. Rodney had no desire to go back to living in captivity again, like a lab rat to be poked at and studied. He would rather die. If it came down to that he'd do it without a moment's hesitation.

Keller had sent Dr Heightmire to him that afternoon, probably in the hopes that she could help him out of the rut he had fallen into.

She had sat there in her chair, beautiful and calm and demure, and Rodney had hated her with every fiber of his being. She was so normal, a single person with everything as it should be, and he had been transformed into something to be repulsed. If he had to live and hate himself for the rest of his life, he would undoubtedly go insane.

Kate Heightmire had sat there and talked to him in that soft, understanding voice of hers, telling him that none of it was his fault, and that there was nothing he could do to change it but he could learn to live with it and other such nonsense. Rodney hadn't said a word and eventually, she had left him in peace.

He had already considered something drastic, like suicide, but there was a part of him that was horrified at such a notion and he dismissed the idea almost instantly. Besides, there was no way he could do that to the few people that cared about him. Especially John, who had come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time. The man who was so perfect with all his imperfections had come to mean everything to Rodney, and in light of the recent events happening around him, Rodney wasn't afraid to admit that he was hopelessly in love with him.

Even that was impossible though, because John Sheppard was everything Rodney Mckay was not. Smart and sexy, popular and a good man who knew right from wrong instinctively and who always put others needs before his own.

Rodney knew that his time in Atlantis would come to an end eventually, because there was no way he could stay so close to John and know that his feelings were one sided. He was a selfish person, he knew that, and he couldn't seem to see past his own problems no matter how hard he tried.

The door to his room opened unexpectedly, and John himself walked in, dressed in his usual uniform of baggy grey cargo pants, a tight black t-shirt that made Rodney's mouth water and his combat boots. Rodney immediately cursed internally for jinxing himself and stubbornly turned his face away from his friend.

So he was shocked when his blankets were abruptly ripped from his body and a rush of cold air hit him. He yelped and scrambled to pull them back, feeling angry and embarrassed and shy at being caught in nothing but his hospital scrubs which were entirely unflattering.

John just stood there for a long moment watching him before he broke out into a grin with the blankets still clutched in his hand.

"Get up. I've got something to show you."

Rodney glared blackly at him, feeling the insane urge to just growl at him and bury himself under his blankets. But knowing Sheppard, he wouldn't give in until he got what he wanted, just like the annoying little kid he was.

"Piss off, John," he snapped for arguments sake. "I'm not in the mood."

"I don't care. C'mon, Keller's said you've been released. Let's go," John replied calmly.

Rodney didn't move a muscle. "John, I don't give a flying fuck what you're trying to do but I want to be left alone okay? I want you to walk out that door and don't come back. Leave."

"Can't do that Rodney. I'm under strict orders," John replied. "Now take your fangs out of my throat and get up. It's almost dinner time and you have to have a shower and get changed."

"No."

Rodney had known that Sheppard was stubborn. Hell, they'd argued about anything and everything, and almost every time it had come down to a battle of the wits and seeing who could outlast the other when it came to plain old pig headedness.

He wasn't expecting Sheppard to grab his arm and cheerfully manhandle him (rather gently considering what he was doing) off the bed. Before he could form a sentence, Rodney had been bundled into his dressing gown and was being led out of the door. John hadn't released his arm and he found himself being hauled unceremoniously down the hall way at a rather slow pace.

It had been almost a week since his surgery and while all they had done was cut him open and then sew him up again, he had been sore for most of that time. Keller had weaned him off the painkillers after a couple of days and made him walk around the infirmary several times each day. So he wasn't in much pain or discomfort, though he could feel the slight pull of the healing wound with every step he took.

Rodney gave a half hearted twist of his arm in an attempt to free himself, but John's grip was firm and his stride steady.

"Let go of me," he said quietly, feeling extremely uncomfortable as they passed several groups of personnel on their steady trip through Atlantis' halls.

"I asked you nicely the first time Rodney," John replied pleasantly. "I have no desire to go running after you when you decide to make a break for it."

"Oh please," Rodney snapped. "I hardly think I'm in any position to be running anywhere."

"True."

"Where are you taking me?" he asked after a moment when Sheppard wasn't going to say anything else.

"I'm taking you back to your quarters. I told you I have something to show you."

"John..." Rodney sighed tiredly. "Please. I don't want to do this now. I'm tired..."

"You're not tired Rodney," John refuted just as quietly. "Keller told me you've locked yourself in that room all day and whenever she looked in on you, you were resting. I think a little walk won't hurt you."

John was obviously in one of his stubborn moods, using that calm, steady voice he used to negotiate between bickering staff members and stubborn village elders. Rodney had learnt by experience that when John got into one of those moods, it was best just to let him do what he wanted because nothing would change his mind.

So that was how he ended up being dragged bodily through Atlantis towards the living quarters. He wasn't surprised when John took him straight to his quarters, which he had barely seen since his return.

Rodney said nothing as John waved his hand and led him inside. He stared in surprise when he saw his apartments though. All of his boxes had been unpacked, but there was a new set in their place, stacked neatly against one wall.

"What..." he started to say but stopped when he saw John's grin. "What did you do?"

"It's true that Keller agreed to release you, but both she and Heightmire had conditions."

"Conditions?" Rodney asked suspiciously. "What kind of conditions?"

"They don't want you to be living alone so...I'm your new housemate!" John announced all too cheerfully. "I volunteered when I heard they weren't going to release you and they agreed."

"Why?" Rodney asked bitterly.

"Why? What do you mean why?" John seemed genuinely confused, but he hadn't lost that calculating and stubborn look of his. Rodney was in for a fight, but he wasn't sure if he was up to it. Living with John would be...awkward. Not only would Rodney drive him to distraction within days, but he wasn't sure if he could live so closely with the man he loved and not have him in every way. It was so unfair and yet...being so close to him was everything he wanted. He could shut out the world in his little apartment, just him and John. The whole thing made him nervous.

"Why would you volunteer for this? You know what I'm like. I'm going to drive you insane," Rodney replied as he looked around his apartment. He avoided looking towards the room that John would be occupying.

"If it was going to happen it would have already," John replied easily as he flopped down into one of the chairs in the main room. Rodney stayed on his feet, wandering around and reacquainting himself with his space. Or their space, as it was. The balcony doors were closed, and beyond them, he could see heavy storm clouds building on the horizon, illuminated gloriously in gold and red by the setting sun.

"That's not the point."

"Well, what is your point then?" John asked as he flipped casually through a magazine that wasn't Rodney's. "The way I see it, it's a win win situation. You get out of the infirmary and I get a bigger, nicer set of rooms. My old one had a problem with electricity. The lights kept flickering on and off."

"Why didn't you say something? I would've had someone..." Rodney asked sharply. The conversation was starting to wear on his temper and he really was feeling tired and depressed and in desperate need of some food.

"It's not relevant Rodney. Look, lets just try it for awhile and if it doesn't work out then we'll sort something else out," John told him, standing up. "Unless there's some other reason why you don't want this. Is there?"

Rodney avoided looking at John and shrugged. Despite the obvious reservations he had about it, there wasn't much he could do about it and John was good company - interesting and funny and easy going - so really, it shouldn't have been a problem. It just felt like everyone was trying to run his life, trying to tell him how he should feel. John was probably innocent of any of that kind of thing seeing as he had volunteered for Rodney's benefit.

He really wasn't fit for any kind of company, no matter how good they were.

"No." Rodney replied slowly. "Look, I'm probably not fit to be around right now..."

"Understandable."

"So it's your funeral if you want to do this. Now if you don't mind I'm going to have a shower."

He turned his back to him and made his way towards his bathroom.

"Hey Rodney," John said. His voice had lost that light, teasing quality and had lowered, deep and rough. "How are you doing? Are you okay?"

Rodney exhaled slowly, trying to hold it all together. He wanted to blurt out that he wasn't fine, that he was far from fine and that he felt like he was breaking up, but he couldn't do that. Not if he wanted to keep any shred of dignity or respect for himself.

He couldn't help his shoulders from slumping slightly, nor the burning in his eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit," John said. "You wanna talk about it?"

The one person who studiously avoided emotions or touchy feely moments wanted to talk about his problems. He shouldn't really have been surprised because he had seen this gentler side of John every now and then.

"Not really." he paused, wanting to give him something for his efforts. "Ask me again sometime."

"Okay."

Rodney walked into the bathroom, closed the door behind him and slid down in until he was sitting on the floor. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on them, wishing that the floor would open and swallow him up.

Rodney was alone.

He sat, huddled in the corner of his small plastic holding cell, lit by dark blue lights. His cell sat inside a larger room. The walls were see through, and sometimes strange people dressed completely in white, with masks and dark glasses covering their faces would sit and watch him for hours on end.

He felt nauseous and his stomach was rolling constantly. The fear had abated somewhat, when he had learned that they weren't going to hurt him in some horrible way. He'd grown used to it, grown used to the feeling of being trapped and claustrophobic.

But he was always alone.

Rodney woke up screaming that night. He hadn't realized he'd been screaming out loud until John had burst in, dressed only in boxer shorts and holding his nine mil.

Rodney was sitting up in bed covered in sweat and breathing hard. He had been crying, and his chest was heaving as he struggled to breathe and forget his unconscious devastation.

He wasn't sure what he had been dreaming about. It had come and gone in flashes but he could remember the feeling of being watched and a terrible loneliness.

For a stunned moment, he just stared at John, who was staring back at him. It took several minutes for his breathing to slow and his heart to stop racing. He had to swallow several times before he could talk. His voice was hoarse and thready when he did.

"I'm okay. Sorry for waking you up," He murmured, trying so very hard not to dissolve into tears.

"It's not a problem. How bad was it?" came John's voice from the darkness. He had relaxed a little, and his gun was lowered, making Rodney want to sigh out loud in relief.

"It was...It was strange."

"Think you can go back to sleep?"

Rodney sensed rather than saw John move closer, his footsteps silent and his movements careful. It didn't stop his heart from picking up his pace. He became acutely aware of himself tangled hopelessly in his sheets and dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt. He couldn't bear to look at himself and he was suddenly glad for the shirt. John didn't need to see his very visible scars as he was already getting a thorough viewing of the invisible ones.

"Yeah. I think so."

"I'll stay with you."

John's voice was steady and firm, and Rodney didn't put up a fight. Not that he wanted to, because being alone was the last thing he wanted just then.

"Okay..." he whispered, swallowing his misery and knowing that sleep would be impossible.

John moved closer until he was standing at the side of his bed. Rodney looked up at him and swallowed as he scooted over to the other side.

John settled his lanky form on the bed, propped up against the wall behind. Rodney had rolled onto his side away from John, his back pressing against the warmth of John's thigh. After a moment, a hand settled onto his shoulder and a thumb rubbed gently back and forth. Despite his fear, Rodney felt himself slowly becoming drowsy, but he kept his eyes open and watched the storm clouds rolling closer to Atlantis.

"John?" he whispered, as his eyes slowly slid closed, the promise of sleep overwhelming him suddenly.

"Hm?"

"Thanks..."

The sound of the first drops of rain hitting Atlantis was the lullaby that soothed Rodney into a dreamless, restful sleep.

The following day dawned gloomy with rain and wind battering the walls and windows of Atlantis. Rodney had woken up clear headed and alone; John had obviously returned to his room sometime after he had fallen asleep and had already left for his shift.

Rodney padded out of the bathroom and over to windows. After only a moment of hesitation, he opened the door with a quick mental command and stepped out into the bad weather. It was freezing out, the wind blowing in gusts and the rain pouring down like sharp needle points.

But the ferocity of it, the wild unpredictability made him feel normal. It matched how he was feeling inside, and he knew that he just had to wait it out. Eventually, the storm would pass and things would be okay. The sun would shine again on Atlantis and it would on him too, if he was patient enough.

Within moments, Rodney was soaked to the skin and shivering, but he stepped over to the railing and looked down. His room was very high, about thirty stories up. Beneath him, huge waves lashed angrily at the foundations of Atlantis.

He turned his face up towards the sky and squinted through the rain at the low hanging, black clouds. Thunder and lightning rumbled about in their depths and he marveled at the raw power of the storm. It reminded him of when he was a child, huddled together with Jeannie in his bed and listening to the rain on the roof. She had been scared of the thunder, he remembered, and as it had crashed and roared about he had told her wild stories about princesses who fought battles and defeated evil witches. She had always listened, wide eyed and grinning and hanging onto his every word.

She had worshipped him as a big brother and protector for many years. That had been a long time ago, and things were very different now that they were both grown and living separate lives. Jeannie was raising a family of her own, and he was living in another galaxy where things got twisted around and nothing seemed to go as it was supposed to. Somehow they'd always made it through, but never without sacrifices. Rodney wondered just how much they would have to sacrifice before things became alright again. He himself had already paid a great price, both physically and emotionally, and he wasn't sure just what he could do in Atlantis anymore.

By the time he retreated back inside, Rodney was shivering and soaked to the skin, but feeling a little better than he had the day before. He lingered in the shower for only a little while, being careful to avoid taking notice of his body. He washed himself without looking, and he wondered just how long it would be until he could look at himself in the mirror again without being hating the person looking back at him.

Rodney dressed slowly and dried his hair with a towel as he ruminated over the beginnings of a plan. Nothing had captured his attention much recently, as he was unable to work on the current scientific projects going on, and he wasn't allowed to go off world with his team. There really wasn't much holding him there, and until he felt confident in himself once more, he doubted he would be much use to anyone.

Unsurprisingly, he was late to the meeting Sam had scheduled. Sheppard, Colonel Carter, Teyla, Keller, Zelenka and Dr Heightmire were already there and waiting for him. Trying not to flush as everyone's eyes turned towards him, he hurried to his seat next to Teyla and kept his eyes lowered.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

"It's okay Rodney," Sam smiled at him. "We were just discussing the projects that each department is working on this morning. I know you're a little out of the loop but I thought you'd like to start getting up to date on things."

Rodney nodded his agreement and leaned back in his chair, listening half heartedly as Doctor Keller talked about the need for more medical supplies and staff shortages. He scribbled simple equations he'd memorized a long time ago without thinking about it, watching as his hand moved across the notepad in front of him. Used to be that he would sit at these meetings with his tablet, working on the problems his department was dealing with as he argued and debated the merits of each and every mission taken on. Instead it was Zelenka with the tablet, frowning as his hands moved furiously over the keypad.

Rodney didn't envy him, not really. It had been so long since he'd been the harried head of the Science and Engineering Department that he had forgotten just how stressful it could be. Zelenka looked a little worse for wear, but Rodney knew that he was coping. He would have to, in any case, because Rodney didn't have the physical or emotional strength to delve back into that pit of snakes just yet.

Almost without meaning to, Rodney glanced up to see if anyone was paying attention to him at all, but they were busy listening to Keller and his eyes caught on Sheppard, who was sitting opposite to him.

His heart was pounding in his chest as he slowly took in the long length of his legs stretching out beyond the cover of the table, and the way his plain black shirt clung and pulled across his muscled chest and shoulders. His smooth, tanned arms folded across his chest were the things of fantasy. That dark hair was messier than ever and Rodney thought that he had never seen anything so sexy. He wanted to bury his hands in it, to run his fingers through the fine strands to see if they were as silky as they looked. It was the sharp cut of his jaw, the way he always looked like he hadn't shaved and those lips that had Rodney swallowing and thinking dirty thoughts that weren't really appropriate in a room full of people.

He realized that he had become a little obsessed with John Sheppard, and he was starting to salivate like the thousands of women strewn across the Pegasus galaxy were. Rodney had one advantage that they didn't though; he was close friends with John, and none of them had ever been. So he could watch John and worship him silently every day that he saw him, and hope that he wouldn't notice. Rodney was too screwed up to be any good for anyone, he had always known that. It seemed that he had a knack for destroying anything good that ever happened to him, though it was never by choice. He had no desire to ruin John in anyway.

Rodney dropped his eyes slowly, looking back at the page of sloppy equations before him and asked himself when he would be able to get the equation that was his messed up life right.

The meeting dragged on, and Rodney found himself scribbling out more complicated equations, until the entire page was covered in his messy script. He refused to look at anyone for fear of seeing something in their eyes that would be a reflection of what he felt inside; disgust, shame and anger.

When Sam finally dismissed then, Rodney was one of the last to stand. He avoided Sheppard and Teyla all together and caught up with Kate Heightmire as she headed down one of the hallways.

"Uh...Doctor Heightmire?" he called out tentatively. She turned around and smiled at him.

"Rodney. How are you?"

"I'm...I'm good. I was wondering...do you have a few minutes?" he practically mumbled. He'd never felt so shy around her before. In fact, the only thing he'd ever shown around her was contempt and dismissal, and she had no reason to want to help him in any way. But the way he saw it, she was possibly the only neutral party there was in Atlantis and he knew that she was forbidden to disclose information regarding her patients which made her perfect for his needs.

"Of course Rodney," she nodded. "Is there something you'd like to discuss with me?"

"Yeah. Could we..." he glanced around, acutely aware of all the people around them. "Is there somewhere private we could go?"

"Will my office do?"

He nodded awkwardly and followed her down the hallway with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Kate waved him to a seat on one of her couches and he sat obediently. Kate's office was one of the nicest he had seen yet with big, open windows looking out over the ocean and the south side of Atlantis. Cream colored couches dominated most of the room, but a large, wooden desk and a bookshelf crammed full of books occupied one corner of the room.

"I was going to make some coffee. Would you like some?" She asked as she walked over to a small table on one side of the room.

"That would be great. Thank you."

Rodney wasn't used to trying to be polite, and he felt extremely uncomfortable in her office. But there was a tight knot in his chest that was threatening to suffocate the life out of him, an acute misery that just kept building with every moment that passed. His entire body was aching with it, and he was fighting tooth and nail to keep it all inside him. It was only a matter of time before the dam broke though, he knew that. Never had he been so completely destroyed by something before, never had he felt the urge to just break down and cry over the injustice of it all.

For his entire life, his father had always told him that men didn't cry and that only women and children could do that. He had made it a habit not to ever since he had been nine years old and broken his arm. When his father had shouted at him to stop crying, Rodney had sworn to himself that he wouldn't ever give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He hadn't shed any tears until he had arrived at Atlantis.

"So, I hear Colonel Sheppard is sharing quarters with you." Kate said conversationally as she waited for the coffee to brew. "How's that working out so far?"

Rodney was staring at his clasped hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Too soon to tell really," he replied, trying not to express his emotions in his voice. Amazingly, his voice came out steadier than he'd have thought. "I'm sure he'll run screaming within a couple of days."

She laughed quietly, though not unkindly.

"Milk? Sugar?" she asked as she poured the dark coffee. He inhaled the scent of strong coffee and realized just how much he had missed it.

"Both please. Two sugars."

She finished her preparations and carried both cups over.

"Thank you," Rodney accepted his cup carefully, taking a sip before setting it down on the small coffee table.

"So. What was it you wanted to talk to me about," she asked as she took a seat on one of the arm chairs opposite him. He watched as her long, graceful hands cradled her cup carefully. Maybe she was as much of a coffee addict as he had been.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I don't know where to start," he laughed hoarsely.

"Why don't you start at the beginning." she offered. "Strictly off the record. Friend to friend."

Rodney studied her for a long moment. "I wouldn't have thought you'd see me as a friend," he said eventually. "I've treated you pretty...badly in the past. I treated everyone...that's part of the problem though, I guess."

"Is that what's been bothering you?"

"It's part of it, I suppose. But I didn't come here to talk to you about that though," he replied. "I wanted to ask..."

"Ask what, Rodney? I'm all ears."

It took him a couple of minutes to formulate the words in his mind, and even then he wasn't sure if what he was doing was right. Articulating his thoughts was another matter, and he still wasn't sure if she was the right person to talk to. But he had to start somewhere and if he didn't do something then he knew he'd just slid backwards into that dark, gripping depression that was threatening.

"You were right before," he told her quietly. "I should have taken the time off. Now...I'm not sure what to do."

"If you had taken the time off then odds are you wouldn't have had anyone who knew how to help you when that device activated," she interrupted him gently.

"True," he admitted. "But still. I'm thinking of...leaving Atlantis for awhile. I need some time to think."

"Why do you think you need to leave to be able to do that? I was under the impression that you wanted to keep busy," she was watching him speculatively as she took another sip of coffee.

"I just...Things have become more complicated and I'm not much use to anyone like this. I think it would be best for everyone involved."

"Is that why you think you need to leave? Because you don't feel like you're useful to anyone while you're going through this?"

"Look. I don't need to be counseled through this decision; I just need you to tell Colonel Carter that you think it's a good idea. I need...I need to go back."

"Rodney," she sat forward and set her cup down. "You know I can't do that unless I have a valid reason for doing so. Why don't you tell me why you suddenly feel the need to leave and we can go from there?"

Rodney scowled at her. He should have known that it wouldn't be so easy. It never was with shrinks, and it seemed like things were never easy for him.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come," he said as he stood up.

"Rodney, I'm only trying to help you. You came to me remember?" she reminded him gently. "I hardly think you would have done that if you didn't need someone to talk to. I'm offering you that; someone to listen. I know that you've been doing a lot of thinking. I'm here so you can unburden yourself of some of those thoughts. I promise I won't pry into anything you don't want to. Please. Have a seat and let's talk about this."

He should have known that she'd know exactly what to say to trap him there, because she had been dead right. The thoughts screaming in his head were becoming too much and he could hardly take it anymore.

Slowly, he resumed his seat and picked up his coffee again.

"Now, why don't you start with what made you change your mind?"

His mind flashed back to the previous night, with John sitting by his side as he fell back to sleep, his thigh warm against Rodney's back. He hadn't had anymore dreams after that, and he had slept peacefully right through to the morning. It spoke levels for the amount of trust he had for John and he knew that he needed to make some sort of effort, at least for John's sake rather than his own.

"I had a nightmare," he breathed. "I don't really remember what it was about just...bits and pieces in flashes. It scared me...pretty badly."

"Do you think it's connected to recent events?"

"I think...it might have been memories. From…you know, before."

She nodded. "It's not uncommon. It's a symptom of Post Traumatic Stress, as you probably know already. Suppressed memories of a traumatic event can surface weeks or months, sometimes even years after the actual event."

"So...you think I have this...Post Traumatic thing?" Rodney asked hesitantly.

"I think so. Dr Keller mentioned signs of it during your stay in the infirmary."

Rodney nodded slowly. "And does it involve other things?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know...depression maybe? And uh...other emotions?"

"They are common, yes. Are you experiencing these, Rodney?" she asked calmly.

It took Rodney a moment to work up the courage to answer and when he did, his voice was thick with unshed tears.

"I think so. I just...I don't know why this happened to me and I can't rationalize it or explain it like I can with everything else. Nothing about it adds up and I just...I can't...I don't know what to do any more," he blurted, as tears started to blur his vision and he started to hyperventilate a little. He rubbed shaking hands over his face in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. "I can't think, I can't breathe and now I've got this...this thing inside me and I don't know who I'm supposed to be..."

Rodney gave himself up to huge, choking sobs that wracked his entire body. He covered his face with his hands as he struggled to draw breath past his sobbing.

Moments later he was wrapped in soft arms, his head guided to a shoulder and he cried and cried, seemingly unable to stop. Kate was rocking him gently, murmuring softly in his ear but Rodney was past consolation, past being able to listen and he was reduced to basic functioning levels as he burrowed into her body heat, unable to do much else except cling to her, great wracking cries shaking his body and reducing him to a child like state of mind.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that for but slowly, the overwhelming urge to cry tapered off, and he leaned against her, finally finding it easier to breathe at last. He felt slightly light headed and his nose was blocked, but he was pleasantly warm and his mind was calm again at last.

"Are you feeling a little better now?" she asked softly, still rocking them gently back and forth. He felt oddly docile and compliant, but it didn't change the sudden emptiness he felt inside. He looked out the window through eyes reddened and dry from crying, and watched the rain hitting the glass methodically.

"Not really," he whispered in reply.

"It'll take a while, and it may not be easy, but it will get better Rodney, I can promise you that," she said to him. "I can help you if you let me. Do you think that's possible?"

He nodded against her shoulder.

"Good. That's good, Rodney." she murmured, stroking his hair softly. "That's a good first step. Now, I'm going to recommend this leave for you, but it may take a day or two to get the process started. I think you need the time off. Where are you thinking of going?"

"I've been thinking about my sister."

"You want to visit her?"

"Yeah. We haven't...we weren't that close before...Before," he slurred out sleepily. "But I want to make it up to her, y'know? I've missed her."

"That sounds like a good idea. Tell you what; I'll talk to Sam, get your leave approved as soon as possible. Then when you come back, we can start working together to sort this mess out. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," Rodney closed his eyes, exhausted for reasons he couldn't discern. "I'm sorry about this. I didn't mean to..."

"Don't be. It's perfectly all right," she soothed him gently rubbing his back. "It's what I'm here for, and it's better to let it out anyway."

"I never used to...My father always said..." he paused. "He was an asshole," was all he could think to say.

"That gives us something else to talk about, hm?" she laughed quietly. "How about you have a lie down here for awhile? Get some rest."

"Okay."

She carefully slid out of his embrace and guided him down onto the couch before she covered him with a blanket. He wasn't sure how long he dozed for, only that he was faintly aware of her moving around the room quietly, and murmuring softly to someone.

He was tired, emotionally and mentally, and what seemed like moments later he was being gently roused by the looming shape of John.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily, wanting to just close them and go back to sleeping, but John was gently insistent.

"Come on, sleeping beauty," he murmured quietly to him with a smile as he helped Rodney to sit up. "Let's get you to bed hmm? You can sleep some more there."

"'ohn?" Rodney rubbed at his face, trying to dispel his sleepy confusion.

"That's me," John smiled at him, and before he could register what was happened, his was on his feet and being led towards the door. He realized that he was leaning heavily on John, and that he really should try to walk by himself, but John wasn't complaining and before he knew it they were walking slowly down the hallways towards the living quarters.

"How're you doing, buddy?" John asked quietly, nodding to a pair of marines patrolling the corridor.

"'M tired."

"I figured. Dr Heightmire was worried about you."

"She shouldn't be. I'm fine," Rodney mumbled. John made a non-committal noise that didn't tell Rodney what he thought of that particular lie, but he let it pass without comment, too tired to think of anything to say.

"Come on, let's get you into bed," John said after a moment as they entered their shared quaters "You can sleep some more there."

Rodney's eyes were drooping as he sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. John crouched down at his feet and tugged off his boots before throwing them aside and standing up to help him out of his jacket. After that, Rodney lay down by himself, pillowing his head on one arm and curling onto his side. Warm blankets settled over his body, and he was aware of the room growing darker as John used a mental command to shade the windows.

A soft hand caressed his head briefly before he was left alone. Sleep drifted over his mind like a cloud of fog and Rodney let himself get lost within its depths.

"I'm sorry Rodney," Keller was once again sitting in John's chair, but this time her countenance was grim. "We couldn't remove the device, or the uterus."

"I see."

"But there's something else as well," Keller swallowed, looking miserable and upset.

"What do you mean, there's something else?" Rodney demanded, slightly hysterical. "What else could have possibly gone wrong? Because I can't see how this can get any worse!"

"We ran some scans after the operation, to see if there was any damage from...well, you know. And I'm afraid that you're...pregnant. We found a fetus attached the wall of the...Well. I'm sure you know how pregnancy works in women normally..."

Rodney promptly leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited violently. Keller was at his side immediately, her hand on his back as she called for a nurse.

"Rodney, I realize that this isn't what you wanted to hear, and I honestly don't know what to do from here. I can run some more tests, but..."

"Leave me alone," he gasped, as his stomach clenched painfully and he retched dryly. "Just leave me alone..."

"Rodney..." she sounded helpless, standing there as the nurses bustled about cleaning up and resituating him in his bed.

"Don't tell anyone about this. Not even Colonel Carter, you hear me?"

Silently, she nodded and left.

They never spoke, never whispered to each other as they watched. There was no way of knowing what they had in store for him. The anticipation had him on edge for weeks, but eventually even that faded until he was dull with exhaustion, weary of feeling so frightened all the time.

He never made a sound as they injected him with unknown substances, as they stuck him in different rooms, with different machines. He never asked what they were doing to him or why as they measured him, and monitored his heart rate or anything like that. It occurred to him much later that maybe he should have. Maybe he should have put up more of a fight, and he would have too, if he had known what they were doing to him.

The silence was almost deafening at times, but at least it was better than listening to Wraith victims scream as they had the life sucked out of them.

Rodney wasn't sure which death was worse any more, if he would prefer to lose his mind in solitude or have the life ruthlessly ripped away from him, quick but no where near painless, until he died. He was starting to think the latter.

Rodney woke in a sweat, his heart pounding his tears on his face. He was still for a long moment, trying to catch his breath and calm down enough to go back to sleep but within moments he was making a mad dash for the toilet and losing whatever contents he had in his stomach.

TBC

A/N: I realize that Rodney's pregnancy might seem a bit sudden to some people, but don't worry, an explanation will follow as to how this happened. Please also note that I am playing around with formatting for the chapters and any input would be very helpful! Hope you enjoyed! Comments, constructive criticism and suggestions are welcomed, as always.

Please see prologue for standard disclaimer.