Spoilers: Trinity
Sequal/Series: No, no, no....
Beta: Ellex and Goddess47

Summary: A lesson in healing.

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"We need to talk." Rodney said when he barged into John's quarters to find him working on his laptop, no doubt clearing out the back log of paperwork before his departure.

"Since when do you bother with the expendable grunts, McKay?" John snapped out, never turning from the computer screen.

Rodney winced, recalling that comment all too well. There had been other malicious and heartless comments as well, so many others and his brilliant memory refused to let him forget any of them. He raised his chin insolently even as his hands flew around in a display of nervous energy. "I'm trying to apologize! I was a conceited, self-absorbed, mean-spirited bastard and – and – I'm sorry."

The angry tirade faded quickly to be replaced by fear. Fear of screwing this up and losing John forever and Rodney knew there would only be once chance to try and make amends. "I'm sorry for all the horrible, insensitive things I've said these last few months." All too clear was Teyla's devastated expression when he'd used his acid tongue as a weapon against her, stripping away her normally composed demeanor.

"And I'm sorry for ever suggesting anyone in this city was expendable, much less you. I'm sorry for pushing everyone away when they tried so hard to make me feel I was still part of something," his hands moved about as if to encompass the entire city, "something special." How many people had he pushed away until it was only Ronon who remained?

"I'm sorry for lashing out at – " at those closest to his heart, Rodney thought, "at people I considered my closest friends and I'm sorry for not watching their backs." The weight of Ronon's injury weighed heavily in the pit of his stomach and made his chest constrict painfully.

There was a long silence before John looked up, resentment on his face. "You remember."

Rodney nodded, not so confident now about his plan, given the furious look on John's face. A jolt ran through him as he realized it wasn't fury, it was hatred and any hope Elizabeth had given him from her story was completely shattered. Any feelings John may have had for him, be it friendship or anything else, had been destroyed as violently as the explosion that took 5/6th of a solar system. Even if he could convince John – no, Sheppard – even if he could convince Sheppard to stay, nothing would be the same. Rodney felt his heart break in two at all the destruction he had caused.

It occurred to him in a sudden flash of insight that Atlantis didn't need him. Radek – Zelenka – had done well keeping the city up and running after his supposed death. But Atlantis needed Sheppard, the one person who could always be counted on to do what was best for the city, to think of the crazy plans to save everyone. The city, the expedition, needed Sheppard to survive and to defeat the Wraith.

"I'm leaving first thing in the morning. Dr. Weir has already agreed." Rodney looked away, hoping Sheppard wouldn't see the bold-faced lie or the way his heart was breaking. If he left, Sheppard would have no reason to leave the city. Rodney was sure he could convince Elizabeth to let him go or he would hotwire the gate and go anyways.

"Did you decide China was more appealing after all?"

The razor sharp words wrought new gashes along his soul that pulsed and throbbed in time with his heartbeat and nearly broke Rodney as he realized Sheppard had discovered the job offer. A rush of nausea swept through him.

"No, I figured it was time to retire, maybe travel or something." The idea of disappearing into the masses on Earth sounded enticing, not staying in any one place long enough for anyone to get close or for anyone to place expectations on him that he couldn't live up to. Perhaps he'd find someplace secluded to settle down; he'd be the crazy, washed-up, has-been all of his colleagues on Earth already believed him to be since he joined the SGC and stopped publishing. Perhaps that was the only expectation he could live up to anymore. At least then no one else would die by his hand.

Suddenly, hands grabbed him and Rodney found himself thrown up against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to curl up against the on-coming blows, all too familiar with how to try and protect vital organs during a beating. Not all of those experiences had come from his time in Pegasus.

But the blows didn't come and an odd sound made him look up cautiously. Sheppard was staring at him with a look Rodney couldn't interpret.

"You thought I was going to beat you."

Why Sheppard sounded so shocked, Rodney wasn't sure. "Everyone does, eventually."

Sheppard's pale face turned a decidedly unhealthy shade of green and he bolted for the bathroom. Rodney uncurled, shaking, in shock and disbelief, as he listened to the sounds of retching in the next room. Thoughts swirled through his mind as he turned to leave, wondering how to convince Elizabeth to let him leave via the gate by morning, if he could avoid Teyla and Ronon until then, if he should tell them, what he should say, if anything, to Zelenka and what to pack.

His hand paused at the door control, the panic receding just enough for him to hear Sheppard dry-heaving. Before he realized he'd made a decision, Rodney was in the bathroom, carefully rubbing Sheppard's back. The dry-heaves turned into wet gasps and eventually slowed down to something close to normal breathing. A wet washrag and glass of water helped to clean away the worst of the mess.

"Do you want me to call Beckett?" Rodney asked softly, unsure of what to do. At least if Carson showed up, Sheppard would be properly cared for and Rodney could silently slip away.

"No!" Sheppard rasped and when he struggled to his feet, Rodney scrambled to help him up before the idiot slipped and busted his head wide open. With some effort both to keep them from falling over and to keep from noticing just how warm Sheppard was, Rodney got Sheppard to his bed. Quickly, deftly, he pulled off the military boots, pushed back the covers, and draped them over Sheppard when he collapsed back on the bed.
For several, long minutes Rodney fidgeted as he sat on the edge of the bed as Sheppard's breathing evened out. When it appeared Sheppard was nearly asleep, Rodney calculated how much time he'd have to talk to Elizabeth and pack –

"NO!" Sheppard shot up in bed when Rodney moved away, hands grabby as he pulled Rodney closer until their foreheads touched. In the quiet of the room, Sheppard's sharp, shaky breathing was unusually loud. "Please." Sheppard whispered. "Please don't leave." The gasps were too close to sobs and Rodney found he couldn't look away when Sheppard traced weapon-callused fingers down his face and rested them on his neck. He looked wrecked, eyes red, face pale, bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep, skin damp from sweat. There wasn't a time Rodney had ever seen him as vulnerable. "I can't, Rodney. I can't do this without you."

"Shep – J –John?" Rodney stuttered as a cold, clammy feeling swept across his entire body. He watched in shocked fascination as his hand shook as he reached up, fingers hovering inches from John's face.

With a surge forward, John pressed into those outstretched fingers until they brushed against his five o'clock shadow. His eyes closed for a moment and when they opened, everything was right there; fear, pain, hope and love.

"Please don't leave me again." A whisper. A plea.

Feeling his heart squeeze tight inside his chest and his body shaking, Rodney toed off his shoes before drawing John to him and carefully slipping them into bed and under the covers. Arranging them in the tiny bed, with John carefully tucked under his chin and his head resting on Rodney's chest, he petted the trembling man in his arms.

"I'm not leaving, I'm not leaving, John."

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They found them curled up together in John's bed, sleeping soundly. Teyla gripped Ronon's arm and smiled up at him with hopeful, shining eyes. "Can we heal now?"

With a gruff, Ronon pulled her into his arms and held her close for a long moment. "I'll tell Baskill his temporary assignment is over."

--end

Author's Note: Rodney's idea of being a hermit was a dig at the episode Brain Storm and the writers because I loathed the idea of them making Rodney the butt of the joke yet again (or at all) especially in the one area where he's supposed to excel at.