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"I hope this carnival-like festival is good for more than just providing Ronon with five times the amount of Pegasus mead any normal grunt could handle, even on their best day," Rodney grumbled as they fought their way through the tall grass to the location. If it hadn't been for the intriguing energy signature, he would‘ve earnestly considered sending Zelenka with his team instead. At least Radek could've matched Ronon's alcohol tolerance.
"You're just jealous that you can't walk straight after two cups," Ronon teased Rodney, slapping him jovially on the back and almost causing Rodney to stumble.
"Hey," Rodney objected. "Want me to calculate how many brain cells even half a glass destroys? No, thanks. You can have it all to yourself. Probably won't make any difference anyway.”
But all Ronon did was laugh loudly as he strode past.
John briefly held Rodney back by the arm. "Rodney, stop needling Ronon. I know you've considered this mission a waste of time from the start. But if there's even a shred of truth to the traders' story about a powerful energy crystal, you'll be the first to burst with glee and immediately start whining that you need more time to examine it.”
Rodney crossed his arms, pouting. "I'm not whining. This is scientific research."
"I know, and I love it when your eyes get all big and geeky and you slip into full action mode. All vibrance and snapping fingers." John looked at him in a way Rodney could only describe as fond.
Rodney melted under the loving gaze, his cheeks flushing as he looked down at his toes, slightly embarrassed. “At least the energy signature I’ve been reading since we came through the gate has been increasing exponentially. So I hope it won’t be a total loss of my time coming to this scientific wasteland,” he mumbled, hiding his pleasant feelings.
John pulled him forward gently. "Come on, it's not far now, and Teyla has promised us a feast. You can't say no to that."
Rodney rolled his eyes but willingly let himself be tugged along. Who was he to refuse a decent meal?
They quickly caught up with Ronon and Teyla, and soon, a wonderful aroma that made their mouths water had them quicken their pace. Barely a few minutes later, they reached the village and were surrounded by excitedly chattering, joyful children of all ages.
Rodney saw John grin when he once again became a magnet for children, attracting most of the toddlers. Whatever it was about himself and children, it seemed that the more awkward he was around them, the more they seemed drawn to him.
“Come on, Rodney, don't look so cranky. You can't impress kids with a grumpy face. They see straight through you. They know you have a big heart—it might be covered with a few layers of defensive armor, but you can't hide your soft core.”
Rodney snorted, then looked up into John’s warm, sincerely loving eyes and swallowed his snarky reply. His blush deepened. Sometimes he still couldn’t fathom that this amazing, beautiful man had chosen him of all people to be the one in his life.
The crowd of children excitedly led them to what was clearly the center of the village and to the already well-laden banquet, which made not only Rodney’s but Ronon’s eyes light up, too. In their passion for good food—or whatever food in general—the two of them were equally united.
The village’s Council of Elders was already seated around the table, dressed in long robes, their hands tucked into the wide sleeves. The one in the middle rose from his chair, holding his arms out in a welcoming gesture.
“May the Ancestors be with you, Teyla, daughter of Tagan.”
"Why is it that leaders of all kinds always prefer dramatic silhouettes to functional clothing?” Rodney grumbled, not quite under his breath, unaware of how the men's expressions immediately hardened.
“Toynar, it is always a good day that brings us together,” Teyla interjected, talking over Rodney as she sent him a reproving look.
“What? It's true! Those robes are only good for sun protection,” Rodney muttered defiantly, “and maybe to intimidate the—”
“Rodney,” John cut in quickly. “You should leave it to Teyla to introduce us and make a good first impression.”
“Fine,” Rodney snapped. He felt John's gaze on him, but stubbornly turned his head the other way, only to see Ronon smirking in amusement. He rolled his eyes and tightly pressed his lips together.
Teyla stepped in front of them, looking warmly at the man who now stood at the center of the table. “May the Ancestors be with you, too, Toynar. It was with great joy that we received your invitation. It is an honor to be here. I would like you to meet John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, and Dr. Rodney McKay — all of whom I call my friends, and thus your friends as well.”
"It is a great pleasure to welcome you and your... companions." His gaze flicked to Rodney, tinged with disapproval, before returning to Teyla. “Please, sit down and enjoy our noontide repast with us. We wish to share with you what is ours, as it has been for as long as tradition has endured.” He gave an inviting wave of his arm.
Teyla inclined her head. “We are happy to accept your kind offer.” She took a step forward and stood behind one of the four free chairs opposite the council, motioning the rest of the team to do the same.
With a nod, Toynar seated himself, and when everyone had followed his lead, the servants brought out the dishes.
The cooks seemed to know their job as everything looked fresh and delicious. Despite his stomach rumbling at the mere sight, Rodney waited a few moments to see if anyone from his team gave him a warning about citrus ingredients, but after a reassuring nod from John, he indulged eagerly in the tasty meal.
“Mmmh, I have to say, this is really good. Coming here wasn't a complete waste of time after all. That means…Teyla—my friend here—told me about your so-called miracle crystal. Is it far from here? I'm actually an acknowledged expert in this field and would very much like to take a look at it. I hope it's not just a pretty light show, but something that can give us real insight into actual Ancient technology," Rodney babbled.
Toynar cast a displeased glance towards Rodney. “The Crystal of Hearts is not just a means for illumination, Dr. McKay. It is a precious heirloom given to us by our ancestors. It has blessed our warriors before the fight, and showered its grace upon the unborn life in our mothers for centuries,” he finished with pride.
“Yada, yada, whatever… I'm very much looking forward to examining it. But only after the promisingly fragrant dessert, of course.” Rodney grabbed for one of the delicious-looking plates, completely oblivious to Toynar’s reaction.
“Granting access to the sacred ground is an extraordinary honor that is only bestowed upon our closest allies,” Toynar chided.
“Sacred ground, yes, yes. I’m sure that’s all very holy. I’m just saying, I can’t wait to check it out.”
“Rodney,” John warned quietly, nudging Rodney's shin with his foot.
Rodney looked over at John and snorted, but otherwise remained silent as he helped himself to another portion of dessert instead.
*****
Not more than half an hour later, under the watchful eyes of half a dozen men armed with spears and blades, the village council proudly gathered everyone around a humming, half-buried contraption built from Ancient scraps and—according to Rodney's not-so-quiet muttering—sheer optimism.
Toynar's eyes shone with undisguised pride, and he motioned for them to take a closer look at the pulsating assembly.
“The tale of your crystal has spread beyond the Ring,” Teyla smiled politely. “Is it true that there has been word recently that its power is… wavering?”
Toynar’s expression turned solemn. “Yes, that is true. Since the last harvest cycle, there has been a troubling change—one our scholars cannot yet name. The colors and the song of the crystal’s heart shift in ways unforeseen, as though touched by some shadowed fate. Still, we hold fast to the hope that this strange turn will pass in time.”
Rodney went from bored to alarmed in an instant, scrutinizing the energy readings. “Right, that all sounds very fascinating. I'm sure fate means well. Except when it doesn't. But you're in luck. I'm the perfect person for the task. Just let me take a look, and I can tell your all-important experts exactly what’s wrong with your beloved energy shrine,” Rodney took a step toward the device, unaware of the sudden movement of the guards raising their spears.
“Rodney,“ John hissed sharply, his hand instantly at his sidearm, stopping Rodney in his tracks.
“What’s wrong, Colonel? There’s definitely an Ancient power source behind all this, and judging from the erratic readings, it’s anything but stable.” He turned to the grim-looking leader of the council. “Look, don't be a bigger idiot than you already seem to be. Your ‘miracle’ device—” he paused to do the air quotes, “has certainly served you well for many years, but—spoiler alert—it looks like it’ll soon reach the end of its useful life. You’re lucky that we’re here right now. I already told you I’m an expert in these crystals, and my analysis shows that the changing signatures indicate severe cracks in the crystalline structure. Believe me when I say that cracks are never a good thing and have a nasty habit of causing the crystals to shatter at the most inopportune moment.”
Toynar’s face darkened. “Be mindful of your words, Dr. McKay. It has nothing to do with miracles. Since time immemorial, our people have blossomed under the protection and blessing of the glowing light’s healing energy. It has always brought warmth and life, never harm.”
“Then prepare to wither away when your healing crystals suddenly blow up in your faces,” Rodney snapped.
John stood protectively next to Rodney, keeping his eyes fixed on the tense men who were holding their spears in a menacing grip. He placed his hand on Rodney’s arm. “You’re talking yourself into trouble, buddy. I just need to know. Is there any imminent danger?”
Rodney looked intently at his tablet. “I know it might seem arbitrary, but the readings leave no room for any other conclusion. The power levels are fluctuating as we speak, and there are telltale signs of an impending overload. At the very least, everyone needs to leave the immediate area, sooner rather than later.”
“But you’re sure you can fix it?”
“Maybe I can’t on the spot, but I can disconnect the circuitry and avert the danger for now. I’m sure with a little time and the right equipment, that I can get it back up and running safely.”
“Okay,” John said simply. Rodney’s heart warmed with the knowledge that John trusted his words.
“Toynar,” John put on his most winning smile. “The fact is, Dr. McKay generally knows what he’s talking about. If he says it’s going to blow up, then it’s going to blow up. You should let him take a closer look and give him the chance to work on it.”
Toynar’s previously friendly demeanor turned harsh and unyielding, his eyes piercing John’s.
“He shall not come within one single step of our sacred crystals, and you are hereby requested to return to your home forthwith.”
“Toynar,” Teyla said gently, “please, rest assured. Dr. McKay may have spoken harshly, but he is kind-hearted and his knowledge is far-reaching and profound.”
“There’s no point,” Ronon interjected. He had remained silent, his eyes surveying the scene like a hawk’s. “We should leave if we want to avoid a fight.”
John looked around. They were definitely outnumbered—and worse, caught amidst innocent, curious children darting between them and their wary mothers. The watchmen glared at them fiercely, holding up their spears, daring anyone to offend the council or desecrate the flickering device.
John instinctively stepped closer to Rodney, and behind them, Teyla and Ronon turned to have their backs in the SOP protection triangle.
Rodney paid no attention to the obvious change in mood or to the protective stance of his team, focused solely now on his data pad, frowning. His shoulders had gone rigid, and his face drained of all color. “No, no, no, no, no.” He looked up sharply. “There's no time for pleasantries anymore. You're letting me near your damn “Spring of Life,” or whatever you call it, right now, or someone's going to have to rename it the “Death Lampion” faster than you can blink.” He swung around. “John, I can stop it, but I have to get to the device right now. An explosion would release a massive amount of energy. I have to shut it down, or we'll all be dead.” He stared desperately at John.
“You heard him. Call back your guards!” John shouted at Toynar without a moment’s hesitation.
“The crystals have never been touched by unholy hands, and we are here to ensure that it will stay that way. The crystals have protected us for centuries. They will continue to do so.” Toynar gestured to his men, who immediately stepped forward, determined not to let anyone pass.
“God! How can you be so obtuse?! There’ll soon be no one here to touch—shit!” Rodney cursed, his eyes widening in horror.
Unnoticed by everyone and unaware of the threat, two of the children had curiously crept up to the rapidly flashing crystals, wanting to see the play of colors.
Rodney surged towards them, oblivious of the spears aimed at him. “Get out of there. That thing is about to go off. Stay away from it!” Rodney yelled, his voice high-pitched in panic.
But of course, instead of running away and getting to safety, the children stopped in their tracks, looking terrified by Rodney’s shouting.
In seconds, Rodney had pushed both children out of harm's way—and all hell broke loose around him.
Mothers and children screamed at the top of their lungs. In no time, there were loudly growling, angry-looking guards and sharp spearheads all around, rooting him to the spot. Out of the corner of his eye, Rodney saw Ronon and John fighting their way towards him through the enraged crowd. A stabbing pain tore him from his stupor and he clutched at his side, staring in horror as his hand came away slick with blood.
“Oh my God! John?” Rodney yelled, holding his hand up for John to see.
“Shit, Rodney. Don't panic. I’ll be with you in a moment,” John shouted over the screams, knocking out several of the furious attackers with the butt of his P-90 as he charged a path toward Rodney. “Try to retreat! Get back to Teyla. Now!”
Rodney took a few steps backwards to follow John's order, but then the humming sound suddenly turned into a screeching noise, and the crystals’ warning yellow turned into an aggressive red. The Elders, in perfect unison, began a counter-song as if to challenge the crystals with their loudness and bring them to their senses by sheer vocal force.
Blocking out everything around him, Rodney ignored the pain and blood and frantically clicked on his tablet, sifting through all the new data coming in faster and faster.
He wouldn’t be able to shut it down in any controlled way. He had to disconnect it manually, or it was the last thing he’d ever do. Disregarding the heat emanating from the crystals, he started to rip them out one by one. As if watching his actions from the outside, he heard the hissing sound as his skin came into contact with the intense heat, smelled the burnt flesh, and heard a high-pitched scream from someone in extreme agony.
Only when the crystals in front of him turned dark, and the terrible sound abruptly stopped, did he realize that it was he himself who had been screaming. In absolute shock, he looked at his hands and arms. The skin was blistered and had burst open in places. His hands and fingers were barely recognizable, bleeding and partially charred. As if through a tunnel, he heard someone calling his name over and over again. But he couldn't look up from his hands. God, his hands! The pain forced its way into his consciousness, pushing everything else aside, and he almost gratefully welcomed the darkness that came from the edges and finally enveloped him, giving him relief.
*****
“Rodney!” John screamed for the umpteenth time, seeing Rodney lying motionless on the ground, his limbs at awkward angles, blood seeping from the stab wound in his left side.
John's vision darkened and he pushed through the ring of people gathering around Rodney’s body. He kneeled next to the lifeless figure, his fingers searching frantically for a pulse, terrified of the outcome. When he felt a racing but strong heartbeat, he briefly closed his eyes, then squeezed Rodney's shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy,” he said as he swiftly applied a pressure bandage to the stab wound. “We'll get you home and Carson will patch you up in no time.” He glanced at Rodney’s hands, but there was nothing he could do to help with those.
John sat up with a grim look, daring anyone to come near Rodney. An ominous silence had settled over the area, and everyone was frozen in shock.
With a grim face, he ordered Teyla. “Go! Run to the gate and dial Atlantis. Tell them we've got a serious medical emergency and get a med team ready.” After Teyla had run off with an affirmative nod, he narrowed his eyes, focusing on Toynar. “Call back your men. I don't want anyone to come near Rodney. I hope you're aware, if it weren't for him, no one here would be alive anymore.” Then he turned to Ronon. "I'll carry him. Make sure no one gets in our way. I don’t care what's needed, just make them leave us the hell alone.”
John crouched down next to Rodney again, slid one arm under Rodney's knees, carefully reached around his back with the other, slipping it under his right arm, and lifted him up.
Without giving anyone a second glance, he started towards the gate, knowing he could rely on Ronon to take care of their safety.
He was neither aware of the men and women parting for him, nor had he eyes for Toynar and the other council members, slightly bowing after them. All he heard was Ronon rumble, "You can thank him later," and catch up to him.
“You sure you don't want me to carry him?” Ronon asked, concern softening his voice.
John shook his head. “I'm good. I… I need to feel he's alive. It sounds ridiculous, I know.”
Ronon put a hand on John’s shoulder. “It's not. And it's good for him too. Just tell me when you want me to take over.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Later, John wondered how they got to the gate at all. The first thing he could recall was gently lowering Rodney onto a gurney in the gateroom. The familiar Scottish brogue giving clipped but precise orders washed over him, reassuring him as nothing else could have. He wanted to hurry to the infirmary along with the med team, but Woolsey's voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Colonel, a word? Dr. McKay is in capable hands now. You can join him later. First, I need to know what happened.”
“Can't that wait? Carson will want me to give the information he needs to treat Rodney.”
“No, it can't. Miss Emmagan already gave Dr. Beckett a full account and is waiting now in my office. Do I have to remind you that it's standard protocol after a mission goes FUBAR that the team leader—providing he himself isn't the cause of the emergency—must report to the expedition leader first thing?”
John bit his tongue to stop himself from spitting out that Woolsey could go to hell. “Fine. You’ll get your damn report. But just the standard protocol summary. The rest has to wait until after I've dealt with my responsibilities as a team leader.”
“That’s all I need, Colonel Sheppard. I know you want to go after Dr. McKay." Woolsey motioned him and Ronon inside, softly saying, "It won't take long," as he closed the door.
*****
“Where is he?” John growled, having finally rushed into the infirmary, his eyes hard and piercing into Carson. With the bloodstains on his tac-vest, his holster still on, and the relentless posture, he looked like one of the horsemen of the apocalypse.
Carson took in the situation at a glance. "You can't enter my infirmary with a weapon, Colonel. You know the rules." He moved to stand in the way, blocking John.
“Where. Is. He? I’m not going anywhere without a look at him!” John took an unyielding step forward, only to be stopped again by Carson's resolute hand on his chest.
“Colonel, I meant what I said. You know that all personnel are to return their weapons to the armoury before entering the infirmary unless they're on guard duty here. You’re not going anywhere while you're still carrying your sidearm and your P-90. This is my infirmary and my call.”
Carson’s eyes met John’s uncompromisingly, making it unmistakably clear that he wouldn’t back down under any circumstances.
When John didn’t seem to loosen, Carson’s spare hand reached for his radio. “Do I have to call security to bring you to your senses, Colonel?” He squeezed John’s chest slightly, trying to get through to him. He felt an almost imperceptible tremor beneath his fingers.
“John?”
John shook his head, deflating. “Why does he always have to play the damn hero and be brave in the most awkward moments?”
Carson sighed. “You know, Rodney has asked me that often enough, too. You’re both real trouble magnets. Thank God, it’s usually only one of you who needs my intensive care, while the other drives me up the wall during that time.”
At least John looked a little guilty about it, but still made no move to retreat, holding Carson’s gaze. “Carson, I… need to see him.”
Carson lowered his hand. “I know.” His features relaxed. “Just humor me and take off your vest, P-90, and holster. He’s in isolation. You can take a short look at him through the window.”
When John immediately tensed up at the word isolation, looking like a lion about to pounce on his prey, Carson’s hand was up in the air again in a moment. “Don’t worry. It's just a precaution to keep his wounds from getting infected. Now go and see for yourself that he's doing well so far. I cleaned and stitched up the stab wound. It hadn’t gone too deep but did nick an artery. That's why the bleeding didn't stop by itself. His burned skin, though… Burns of this extent are no laughing matter, and I had to sedate him for the time being because of the pain. But he's not in a critical condition.”
John nodded and laid his vest and weapons on the gurney next to him. He passed Carson and crossed the room in long strides, stopping in front of the big viewing glass. He looked down on Rodney, taking in the paleness and the bandages.
He closed his eyes. Rodney’s hands.
Of all things, that was the worst. Rodney was his hands. His entire being and actions were defined by the ease and precision with which he used them. Whether he was working on complex equipment, using his fingers on the smallest details, or simply performing everyday tasks, his hands were his most valuable asset. Even talking without the flailing movements wouldn't be the same. It just wouldn't be Rodney.
The steady rise and fall of Rodney's chest and the beeping of the monitor calmed him down a bit, and he turned to Carson, who had come to his side. “Will there be…” He couldn’t finish the question, his mouth suddenly dry.
“Permanent damage? Scarring?” Carson had expected that particular question. “I can’t tell at the moment. There’s some superficial burning on both his arms and wrists, but those will heal. What worries me most, though, are his palms and fingers. They got the brunt of it.”
“He needs his hands. Atlantis needs them. You have to fix it. Promise me, Carson!” John demanded, clenching his teeth.
“You know I can’t. I’ll do everything in my power, though. We’ll know more in a few days. I’ll only keep him under until the pain medication takes full effect. Once the wounds are no longer at risk of infection, we’ll use the Ancient tissue healer to accelerate cell growth and prevent scarring as much as possible. Until then, just do what’s best for him. Be there for him. It’s good for him—and for us,” Carson said with a wink. “Healing tissue itches and stings like hell. And he will let us know all about it, you can be sure of that.”
John had to smile despite himself. “I can’t wait.”
Carson patted him on the back, grinning back. “Now, off with you. Hop under a hot shower and get a good meal. I'll get some protective clothing ready for you, and then you can go in to see him for a moment. Maybe he'll even have come around by then.”
“Thanks, Carson. And... sorry about... you know... earlier. I wasn't thinking straight. I don't know... when it comes to Rodney, I can’t hold it together.”
“Don’t worry, lad. It’s already forgotten. When it’s about someone you love, it’s all heart over head.”
“Yeah,” John sounded embarrassed. “I'll be back. I won't be long.” With a last, worried glance at Rodney's still form, he hurried out of the infirmary.
*****
Rodney slowly drifted back to consciousness. Where was he? Was he dreaming? Everything was hazy. His head... what was wrong with his brain? Everything felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool. And why were his arms so heavy? He couldn't move. His chest felt like a stone was lying on it. He couldn't breathe properly. He needed air! Panic seized him. Why wouldn’t his eyes open? What was happening? His breathing came faster and faster, terror consuming him. Where was everyone? Where was John?
"John? ... John?"
Suddenly, the weight on his chest was gone. Someone was speaking. He wasn't alone. But why couldn't he move? Why wasn't John there yet?
"John? ... Jooohn!"
"Rod... everything... okay... ney... open..." The voice was familiar, wasn’t it? He pushed the fog aside.
"It's okay, I've got you. Rodney, wake up, you did it. Open your eyes. I'm here. Rodney, look at me!" The voice was pleading now.
Did it? Did what? — Heat… colors… crystals… explosion… danger… children, there had been children… God…
He forced his eyes open. A blurred dark head of hair appeared in his vision, making him feel safe in a heartbeat.
“John. Thank God. I was so scared.”
“I was with you the whole time, Rodney. You’re safe. You’re gonna be okay, buddy.”
“Oh, right. I’ll be okay. That’s… that’s good. What happened?”
“Actually, nothing was what happened. You once again saved the day! You can't help yourself, always wanting to be the center of attention. You did a great job of that again, by the way. Though you scared the little ones. And you scared the crap out of me. I swear, one day you’ll be the death of me.”
“Very funny. But… are they okay? You know… one of them looked like Madison. Did I manage to shut it down in time? Was anyone hurt?”
John looked at Rodney affectionately. “You rant and rave, but you risked your life for them. You can't hide your love for kids from me. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
Rodney glared at John, refusing to dignify that with a reply.
John smiled and cupped Rodney's jaw, stroking his face with his thumb. "You're just wonderful. Grim as a grizzly bear, but with a heart as big as a football field.”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Ha… ha… what is it with you and your goofy little football obsession...”
“I don’t know, but you must say, it was a real Hail Mary again, wasn’t it? “John smirked. “And, you know, it’s not just me… the Tolans realized that Teyla was telling the truth about your big heart. They even told her that they owe you and that, in their eyes, you’ve earned the right to touch the crystals at any time. They even gave you the title "Protector of the Heart."
John’s face turned serious. “But I really could do with a little less excitement the next time. Honestly, my heart can’t take any more of that. You should take more care of yourself.”
“Says the man who flies a jumper into hive ships on a regular basis,” Rodney muttered, but leaned into John’s intimate touch.
For a while, they simply sat there, wrapped in each other’s warmth and closeness. Then Rodney grimaced as his hands and arms started to make themselves felt again.
John frowned, “Is the pain getting worse again? Let me get someone.” He pressed the call button.
Rodney winced sharply. "Where's Carson when you need him? I could use some of those good drugs.” He rolled his head to the side and was rewarded with the sight of Carson hurrying towards him.
“Well, there you are, lad. It’s nice to see your blue eyes open and hear your voice. How are you feeling? I figured you two making out could make the medication last a bit longer, huh?” Carson gave him a teasing look, waiting for a mocking reaction, while fidgeting with the IVs.
But when there wasn’t a snarky reply, but only a hiss followed by a resigned sigh, Carson gazed gently at Rodney, placing his hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “You'll feel better soon. I’ve also added a mild sedative. You need the rest.”
Rodney huffed and turned his head away. “I need my hands, Carson. That’s what I need.”
“I know, son. And we’ll get there, I’ll do everything in my power. And you have the best support right beside you.” Carson looked softly at John, who had gone stiff and all still too.
“He does,” John assured Carson, looking tenderly at Rodney. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well, he’ll be my guest for a bit longer, and we’ll take good care of him. Until the skin is fully closed, we’ll have to change the dressings regularly under sterile conditions. But he’ll need someone to put the regenerative cream on the burns, keep him motivated through the physical therapy, and massage the tissue and muscles afterward so everything keeps healing smoothly and stays mobile.”
“You know, he’s just lying here hearing every word you’re saying, and let me tell you, none of this is making me feel good,” Rodney murmured into his pillow, still not looking up. The thought of having his dressings changed, and, even worse, physiotherapy made his hair stand on end.
“Ah, you’re breaking my heart here. What is it about “getting a massage from me” that’s making you feel bad?” John pouted in obvious exaggeration, trying to lighten the mood. And it didn’t fail to pull Rodney out of his funk.
“Mhmm, okay. Maybe that part of it I could actually look forward to… that is… if you properly warm up your hands first instead of touching me with your usual icicles that you call fingers.”
“That’s my boy!” John cheered and leaned in for a soft kiss.
“Ahem,” Carson cleared his throat jokingly. “No inappropriate behavior in front of your doctor.” He winked at them. “But I do happen to have urgent files to look at.” He set off toward the door. “And I’ll put up a 'Do Not Disturb' sign. After all, healing needs peace and quiet. Doctor’s orders.”
Rodney and John remained silent as they watched Carson leave the room. John snuggled his head next to Rodney's on the pillow, and for a few minutes, they just lay there, breathing each other’s breath and enjoying being alive and together.
“Thank you,” Rodney whispered.
John gazed at him. “What for?”
“For being there. For protecting me. For caring about me. For… you know… putting up with me.”
“Rodney, you need to get that out of your head.” John tapped him lightly on the forehead. “There’s no putting up with you.”
“But—”
“No. No but. It was you I fell in love with. Your expressive eyes, your crooked mouth, your strong arms, your broad shoulders, your perky nipples, and—” John held up his index finger, stopping Rodney, who had just opened his mouth to object. “Your snappy fingers, your snark, your loud mouth, your brilliance, your absolute inability to lie even if your life depends on it. And it’s you being loyal and brave, no matter how scared you are. You don’t look away, and you don’t let people down. You never let me down. You always have my back, and I know you always will. So… thank you. For all of this. For you being you. Don’t change. Ever. I love you!”
Rodney felt the heat rush into his cheeks. They didn’t really do the whole L-word thing; teasing each other felt safer. Banter was familiar territory—declaring love wasn’t.
He gazed at John, who had gone quiet, looking intently into Rodney’s eyes. God, John was so beautiful. He was everything Rodney wanted, everything he could ever imagine—and he was his.
The numbness and drowsiness began to wash over him as the sedative took hold, and he felt shadows reaching out, drawing him under their spell.
Rodney’s heart was filled with everything John meant to him, all the emotions that were breaking through into the open, the love almost overwhelming. He wanted to show John what he meant to him, wanted to tell him the way John had told him. So many things to say. All the words spinning in his mind. His tongue grew heavy. The lines in his face softened, and he smiled tenderly at John.
“I love you, too.”