A/N – Huge thanks to Max (and everyone else) for reviewing! I'm so glad you like it, your comments gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside! Alas, the notifications are down at the moment, but hopefully they'll be back soon.

Oh my! I had to rewrite, rearrange and then rewrite this chapter...

Chapter 5

John tapped his radio as he ran along the corridor. "Sheppard to Keller. Meet us at Rodney's quarters... No… Well I don't know yet. Leave the gurney, come by yourself." He thought for a second and then added, "Bring your gear, just in case."

He jogged into the transporter, his heart feeling like a lead weight of dread in his chest. Luckily for him the transporter was fast and he materialised a moment later in the corridor leading to Rodney's quarters.

He started to run again and skidded to a halt when he spotted Ronon.

John shared a look of concern with him and the Satedan said, "I knocked, but he's not answering."

John nodded and composed himself before yanking the door control panel off the wall and bridging the crystals. The door hissed open, John finding it odd that it was so easy. Rodney was a genius, and he would've thought the man would at least have tweaked his home security measures so that half the base couldn't break in.

Unless he'd made it easy on purpose… He wanted to be found!

The room wasn't lit and there was only dim light coming through the window making it hard to see through the gloom. John activated the lights and called out, "You in here, Rodney?"

"I'm asleep. Go away."

"Yeah right you are, McKay."

John went further inside and instantly spotted the lump of sheets on the bed. He wandered over cautiously and asked again, "Don't think you can hide out in here without us noticing. I've been wondering where my favourite scientist was all day. Missed you at breakfast and it's nearly lunchtime now!"

Rodney shifted and then relaxed with an irritated grunt.

John helped to untangle him from the sheets. Trying and failing to ignore how pale, cool and sweaty Rodney was as the light tremors running through his body were transferred to John's hands. John pressed his lips tightly together before saying, "Hey, you'd better get decent pretty sharpish. Keller's coming."

Rodney pushed the sheets back, and John glanced around the room. His eyes settled on a set of scrubs Rodney had taken from the infirmary. They weren't too dirty so he quickly helped Rodney to scramble into them. Rodney was having some trouble because his muscles didn't seem to be working properly and his hands and feet were bandaged, the material spotted dark brown with dried blood.

"What the hell happened here?" John asked in alarm.

Rodney shut his eyes and sunk back down onto the bed as he said weakly, "I really don't like mirrors."

Ronon had stayed outside and John heard the low rumble of his voice just before Keller came in. She did a very quick examination of Rodney and promptly radioed for a gurney.

"When was the last time you ate, Rodney?" she asked as she flashed a penlight into his eyes.

Rodney flinched away from the light, "There's nothing wrong with my eyes!"

"When?"

He huffed and grumbled, "I don't know. Yesterday sometime. I wasn't feeling hungry."

Keller nodded, started up an IV line and passed the bag of fluids to Sheppard.

Ronon had followed them in and slowly approached. John nodded in encouragement and Ronon was emboldened to step forward in case Keller needed him for anything.

She carefully unwrapped Rodney's hands and feet and held each one up in turn to the light. She said, "These cuts are deep and still bleeding a little. I can see some foreign objects in the wounds. They'll have to be removed, but you need painkillers and stitches and antibiotics. The drip will make you feel stronger in a minute. Stay awake for me until then."

Rodney blinked up at her sleepily and grimaced. "Why are you bothering?"

Ronon sensed he was needed and stepped forward. He grabbed Rodney's upper arm in support, but didn't say anything.

Jennifer spoke instead, "You're hurt, Rodney. Why wouldn't I?" She lightly rewrapped his appendages with some clean gauze and furrowed her brow.

Rodney grumbled quietly, his anger stripped away in exhaustion, "I know, it's just your job, but I don't deserve your help or your attention. If I can't do my job anymore, I'm useless to everyone here. So why bother?"

John frowned at Rodney in confusion. "Who or what made you think you were useless? You obviously do need our help, so," he smiled, "here we are."

Jennifer finished the bandaging, gripped his shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. She put her other hand in his hair as she leant forwards and spoke quietly into his ear, "You'll be good as new in no time, you just have to not give up and stop thinking things like that. Healing from traumatic, life threatening injuries isn't a quick fix like pressing a few buttons and suddenly the city's safe from the Wraith. Give yourself some credit, you've done incredibly well to have come as far as you have."

Rodney closed his eyes, but he had heard and absorbed every word.

The gurney soon arrived and Jennifer and her team whisked Rodney to the infirmary. Once he was settled in and the remaining glass had been removed and painkillers applied, he dozed off.

John beckoned Jennifer over from the other side of the room, so she checked the machines next to Rodney, glanced at the man himself briefly and then went over to him.

John asked, "So what's the verdict, Doc?"

"Well, he was on the verge of falling into a hypoglycaemic coma when we got there, and those cuts he had must've been terribly sore."

John grimaced and rubbed his own hands together unconsciously. He asked, "After what happened before, do you still check up on him?

"Sure, nearly every day either myself or a member of my team looks in on him. What with the extent of his injuries, and the ongoing physio and counselling, I have to. I was going to dial back his appointments to every few days, but given what just happened, I don't think that's wise yet. I often have to go to him and it's getting harder to drag him down to the infirmary to review his treatment. He's hurting, I know it, but he hides it within the anger."

John sighed and looked over at the sleeping scientist. "I know."

Jennifer rubbed her forehead tiredly. "What with Major Lorne's team coming back in need of medical assistance this morning, I couldn't spare anyone for non-urgent appointments, so I rescheduled Rodney's check up to this afternoon. I'm sorry, I should've seen the warning signs."

"We all should, but McKay's a difficult man to decipher, let along to get along with. Especially after what he's been through."

Rodney woke up and slipped out of the infirmary a few hours later. It was now the afternoon and John was on duty to make sure he was alright, so he discretely followed Rodney. He radioed Keller and checked it was okay for Rodney to leave, she said yes, but would've preferred for him to stay longer for monitoring.

John soon lost Rodney when he went into a transporter and shielded the screen from view so that his destination was unknown. John went to the labs first and found Zelenka hunched over a computer. There was a device on the table and John couldn't resist the urge to grab it and fiddle while he glanced around the room looking for his missing friend. It started to spin and whistle, so he quickly put it back down and shoved his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.

He asked, "Where's McKay?"

Zelenka blinked slowly, but didn't look at him, "Not here, apparently. We have done more work without him shouting at us today. Find him, but make sure he's feeling better before he shows his face in here again. We know he has not been feeling very well lately, but we cannot take any more of his misplaced abuse."

"Oh don't worry, I will," John assured him

John went to Rodney's quarters next, but the room was empty. He suddenly remembered the ascension machine, and when he arrived, he finally found the wayward scientist slumped over the console, fast asleep.

John went over to Rodney and rubbed his upper back gently to rouse him.

Rodney twitched and then whimpered and moaned from whatever his mind was showing him. John quickly called out, "What are you doing down here, McKay?"

"You're in my quarters. I'm sleeping. Go away."

"Last time I checked, this was a lab that anyone could access. I would've expected signs or warnings, possibly amusing traps if I'd known I was entering the Domain of McKay."

"I'll fix them up later." Rodney sat back in the chair, and John kept his hand in contact to steady him. Rodney blinked and said, "I'm doing the usual, you know: fixing things, working… engaging in deep thought processes…"

"Looked like you were asleep to me."

"Very deep thought. At least before you came butting in."

"Seems more like running yourself down into the ground. When was the last time you ate anything solid?"

"Keller gave me the liquid stuff. Proper food though…? I don't know."

John moved his hand away from Rodney's back and waved at the machine. "How long have you been trying to get this thing working again?"

Rodney looked at him nervously, and his expressive face showed the obvious lie, "A few hours."

John smirked at him, "You're the worst poker player who ever lived. I know you've been down here for hours every day ever since you got back. Why?"

"You've been following me?"

"Only to make sure you don't hole up in your quarters without eating anything, or get hurt without seeking medical attention."

He placed his hand back on Rodney's shoulder, but the man shook it off with an annoyed huff. "It can fix me and then things will go back to how they were. Without this… this…" He lifted his shirt up and showed John the torn flesh, "...ugliness."

John suppressed a wince, but Rodney had seen it already. He sighed and the material fell down to cover him. He suddenly grew angry. "If you're not going to help me, then go away. I can deal with this on my own. Who do you think looked after me and hung out with me in Area 51 and Siberia? Me. I'm all I have and I can rely on myself. I don't need you or your help, Jennifer's drugs or Heightmeyer's talking sessions."

Rodney turned away and John could see tremors of poorly suppressed rage wracking his body.

John said quietly, "Come back to the city with me. I want to show you something."

Rodney tapped a few buttons on the console, sighed and then rolled his eyes. "Alright. But just for a few minutes, I have lots to do here."

They walked down the corridors and went to the mess hall first, where John made Rodney eat something. Then they went to the control room. Everywhere they went, people greeted both Rodney and John pleasantly. Many enquired as to how Rodney was feeling, or expressed their concern about what had happened to him, much to his annoyance. But they smiled anyway, even (and perhaps most especially) when he snapped at them.

John paused with him in the gate room, far enough away that no-one would hear, and said, "Look around, Rodney. Everyone here likes you, respects you, looks out for you. You just don't see it recently because of all the shouting. There's been a bubble around you these last few weeks and few have dared to get near to you for fear of losing limbs. Lighten up a bit and you'll have them all eating out of your hand again in no time."

He then took Rodney to the science lab. Radek was still there and his face fell when he spotted Rodney. Several other scientists quickly took cover like they thought a bomb was about to go off. But when Rodney didn't say anything, and when they saw John hovering nearby, they were emboldened. Some tentatively came over and asked Rodney for advice. Soon he was surrounded by scientists asking him to check this equation, or this project, or ask for his ideas about what he thought this device was.

Rodney did it all. He dispensed his advice in sarcasm if there were any errors. But he didn't seem as angry as usual.

John was smiling at him happily when they left the lab, but Rodney was still downcast and said, "But the horrible scars. I have to fix the lab. Don't you see? I hate people starring at them and at me. Fix it, fix myself and then reverse the ascension process. What could go wrong with that?"

From that moment on, Teyla and Ronon seemed awfully friendly as well. Rodney hardly had any time to himself, and he much preferred it to how he had been just before the mirror smashing incident.

Even the nightmares had started to become more infrequent ever since he'd started to walk again.

His team refused to let him go more than a few hours without one of them asking how he was, or forcing him to watch movies with them, or even just sitting with him in silence if that was what he wanted.

Teyla helped him to meditate, and Rodney soon snuffed out and hid the stinkiest candles she tended to use, much to her consternation.

Ronon grinned manically and scared Rodney into doing all the physio exercises, just to avoid that mad glint in his eyes, which could've been mirth… but just as easily could've been murder.

John kept appearing unannounced with gifts of food, or jokes, or just to be annoying.

Jennifer's check ups were now like clockwork and although he was still in some pain, with her hands on him and the pleasant lilt of her voice and the scent of her skin and hair so close to him, he started to look forward to seeing her, even though she gave him pain.

She even told him he was getting better and how proud she was that he hadn't given up, how she had always known it was in him.

Proud!

If he was being prickly and aggressive, she responded in kind, but never said anything that stepped over the line or made him angrier.

When Jennifer finally said she was satisfied that his gut had sufficiently healed to eat anything now, he was so pleased he actually hugged her. She squeaked in fright and he nervously cleared his throat before letting go and scurrying away to the mess hall. Because eating a nice big steak was so much better than broth and bland nothingness he'd been force fed and it was because of her that he could do that.

He even started to put the weight back on he had lost through illness.

Heightmeyer's sessions where also becoming more infrequent, and however much of a quack Rodney had once thought she was, whatever she was doing to him seemed to be working. Even with her seemingly crazy techniques: making him tell her all about his thoughts and fears, she showed him relaxation and breathing techniques that Teyla sometimes forced on him too.

With her careful prodding to get his mind back in order, he was starting to feel like the shattered remnants, no matter how broken they were, could be glued back together. Like his mind was a ten thousand piece jigsaw puzzle (even one of those near-impossible pictures comprised entirely of beans or paperclips) rather than a piece of broken glass with no original picture and no hope. She carefully mended his thinking and pressed him so much to complete her exercises that he couldn't help but do them. She at least was being nice to him, most of the time, and didn't even get upset when he had a bad day and ended up shouting and swearing and screaming at her.

But there was still a niggling doubt in the back of Rodney's mind, about himself and his appearance. His thoughts were slowly getting back in order, all the corners and edges of the puzzle back in place while the middle was being filled in and on the way to completion. His body obeyed him most of the time, his belly, arms and legs only aching in the mornings or when he left the painkillers too long between doses.

But the wounds had healed to a certain extent and then stopped, leaving shiny scars, puckers and marks all over his front, back, forearms and lower legs. He still had no mirror, hated to look at himself, and despised short sleeved shirts, preferring to perspire in the sweltering heat rather than allow anyone to see them.

He knew it would be impossible for him to attract any female attention now. Sure, he was turning back into the angry snarkmonster just as he had been before he was tortured, but he now lacked confidence in his appearance underneath his clothes. Any woman getting that far with him would hate what they saw and run off in disgust, he knew that the marks on his body where a total turn off, not only for him, but for anyone else seeing them too.

It was only a small problem at first, but it grew and grew the more he became fixated on it, his one lingering problem, until he lost his temper in the labs one day. Triggered just by someone looking at him and then asking offhand if he could roll up his sleeves and check out a new lab they'd found.

In his furious rage, he had smashed an Ancient device, and stormed out in such a hurry he upended his chair with a crash. The people left in the lab looked on in bewilderment.

Now Rodney fumed from stood in the corridor, his chest heaved while the injuries in his abdomen throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He clutched his belly and grimaced at the nausea rolling through him from the pain. He could even feel the pitting of the scars through the material of his shirt and he swallowed compulsively to stop the horrified sickness.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose and out of his mouth. "I am not an ugly freak," he chanted under his breath. "What happened to me is not my fault." He furrowed his brow, "Why dwell on things that can't be changed?"

He frowned and opened his eyes. He hadn't been back to the ascension machine lab since the fateful day of the mirror smashing and breakdown. So convinced he was that it could never be repaired having spent many hours down there with no progress whatsoever. But maybe now that he was feeling a little bit better, he could give it another go. Perhaps all that was needed was fresh perspective after all this time. And he was feeling so much better.

But when he got down there, the area was sealed off. It took him a few minutes to break through, because a genius such as himself would not be held back by tape or locked doors, or any one of the scary cat-sized rats in that area.

He went into the lab, there was nothing there. He walked around the edges of the room, retraced his steps, even called up a map of the city on his PDA. But it was definitely the correct room. Someone had been in there and destroyed it! Why would they do such a thing?!

He called Radek, who helpfully told him that the machine was safe, but had been transported back to Earth for further study. It was useless on Atlantis anyway with most of the components missing and a majority of the circuits burnt out and irreparable.

"Who authorised the move?!"

There was a pause and Radek answered, "You did."

"What?" Rodney would never have done such a thing, unless he was insane… hmm…

There was an even longer pause and Rodney heard rapid typing on the other end of the line. "Yes. It was you. A week ago. I passed you a stack of forms to sign and you signed them all. I did wonder whether you had read any of them at the time. Colonel Carter also approved the removal of the machine. Why are you so bothered by this, Rodney?"

He leant up against the nearest wall in the empty lab and allowed himself to slide down until he was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up. He gritted his teeth and mumbled, "That's none of you business, Radek."

"Okay. I will see you later, yes?"

Rodney grunted and ran a hand under his shirt sleeve and fingered the sensitive scars on his arm distractedly. He would never be completely whole now. He was doomed.