Beyond The Invisible

by Merlin7

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asm/merlin7/beyondth.php
Summary: None

The nurse fussed around Rodney's bed, checking all the tubing and wires and leads that were hooked up to Mckay. Once satisfied, she straightened the covers, nodded to John, then left.

John was glad she was gone. He looked at Rodney for a long time, taking in the pale features and listening to the beeps of the machine that was breathing for him. Rodney was alot of things, but fragile had never been one of them. Until now. Six weeks of lying still and silent. Six weeks of hell. John rubbed his tired eyes with shaky fingers, then he shifted in his chair and lifted the book that was on his lap. He had started reading to Rodney that first night. They were on the second Harry Potter novel. McKay and Ford had talked about the series once and Rodney had mentioned never having read the books. He thought even the concept of magic was silly. But John knew that Rodney would enjoy them, so he had borrowed them from Ford -- who had smuggled all five books to Altantis.

Taking a moment to find where he had left off, John started to read again. But he hadn't gone far when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Dr. Beckett coming towards him, carrying a tray. John said nothing as the doctor set the tray down on the little table next to John. He looked at the contents and smiled. "What no cookies and milk?" The tray held a sandwich on a plate. A very thick turkey sandwich. Or what passed for turkey anyway.

"I'd have brought a dozen cookies and a gallon of milk if I thought you'd actually ingest them," Dr. Beckett replied. He moved off to check on Rodney's vitals, paused to scribble something on his chart, them moved back to Sheppard's side.

"I miss peanut butter cookies," John stated, trying to head off what he knew was coming.

Beckett sighed. "Me too. You'd have loved me mum's cookies. Best in the world."

John said nothing, letting Beckett enjoy the memory. Sometimes it was all they had left to get them through each day. But when the good doctor looked at him again, John tried to shift the conversation off of food. "So...are you up for another flying lesson tomorrow? You could use some work on your landings."

"You eat every bit of that sandwich and we'll talk about lessons," Beckett countered. Then he locked eyes with John. "And know this, Major. If you don't eat, I'm grounding you until further notice." And he meant it.

"Okay. " John knew better than to argue. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. For two days after Rodney had been brought to medical, John hadn't remembered to eat. Hadn't cared about it. But Beckett had noticed and had grounded him. They had had a rip-roaring yelling match on one of the balcony's and John had been almost impressed by the fact that Beckett had not backed down. He had Weir backing him up after all. So John had been grounded for three days until Beckett had been satisfied he was eating again. So for the past few weeks when John didn't eat, it was mostly because he didn't think about it. But now he reached for the sandwich and took a big bite.

Beckett watched him and nodded in satisfaction.

John swallowed the first bite, forcing it down when it threatened to stick in his throat. "Are you planning on watching me eat?" John asked.

"Pretty much," Beckett folded his arms over his chest and stared at him.

"I don't do tricks." John felt the need to keep things light-hearted. He knew that Beckett was as exhausted as he felt. They all were. Everyone was keeping their own form of vigil for Rodney, and to top it all off the Wraith were still culling off world planets. That fact alone was like a great weight that had settled on John's shoulders. Sometimes he felt like he would be crushed by the guilt and suffocate. He knew the Wraith would eventually find their way back to Atlantis. John felt the burden of protecting his people to be almost too heavy a load to carry. But carry it he would. He had awakened the Wraith and he would send them all to back into permanent slumber. Somehow, someway. But he kept these dark and heavy thoughts to himself. Even now. "You should get some sleep, doc," John said to him. "You look ready to fall down."

Beckett snorted. "Look who's talking. If you weren't sitting down right now you would fall down."

John shrugged. No sense in denying the truth. But he could shift around it a bit. "I'm okay."

"Yeah." Beckett understood maybe better than anyone. He looked at Rodney for a moment, then back at John. "He's not going to wake up, Major."

"I know." John took another bite of the sandwich, which made saw dust seem like ambrosia, and swallowed it down. He didn't have to say anything more if his mouth was full. But he knew there would be no miracle for Rodney. He had known it all along.

Beckett continued to watch John for a long moment. "I talked to Dr. Weir and we've reached an agreement."

John set the half eaten sandwich aside. He knew what was coming. He felt his hands start to shake and he could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. "What agreement?" He asked for politeness sake.

"I'm going to turn the machines off in two days. It's for the best." Beckett eyes held an infinite sadness as he spoke.

"Okay." John meant to be reassuring but the word came out as a whisper. He reached for sandwich and took another bite. Anything to distract him from what he really wanted to say. It wasn't Beckett's fault that he had given up on Rodney. It was John's fault that there wasn't any reason not to. He should have been there to save him. John took a shaky breath then locked eyes with Beckett. "I want to be here...when you turn them off."

Beckett winced. "Are you sure?"

John nodded. "I'm sure. I need to be here." He needed to say goodbye. But more than that he needed to be there so that Rodney would not be alone in the end. No one should die alone.

"All right then," Beckett said softly. He moved to the Major's side and patted his shoulder. "I'll leave you be now. But finish eating."

"I will." John managed to fake a smile and kept it in place until Beckett was gone. Then he stood up and dumped the sandwich in the nearest trash can before moving to Rodney's side. "Sweet dreams, Rodney," John whispered, as he reached out and smoothed the soft brown hair off Mckay's forehead. Then he leaned in and brushed a butterfly soft kiss to his temple. "I'll be back tomorrow." It was the same promise John made every night. And it was a promise that he kept.

As he left the infirmary, John glanced at his watch. He and his team were heading out in less than an hour on a scouting expedition. They were always in need of food sources and Teyla had suggested visiting Lithos. The way she described the place reminded John of a jungle. A part of him was anxious to go there, but he always missed having Rodney by his side. Zalenka did well enough, but he didn't have the snark or the heart for missions.

John shook away such thoughts as he entered his room and headed straight for the bathroom. He fell to his knees next to what passed for a toilet and puked until her brought up blood. He flushed then brushed his teeth before shedding his clothes and stepping into the shower. He washed quickly, dried off and got dressed. Then headed for the conference room for the pre-mission briefing. Everyone was there and John slid into his chair. He made a show of listening to Weir as she spoke and he was practiced enough to respond in all the right places. Then they were dismissed and John led his team to the Jumper bay. They settled into Jumper one and a few minutes later they were through the gate.

It was like entering another world completely. John had been in a few jungles, but nothing like the exotic world they found themselves in. The foliage was thick and lush and John used his knife to hack a path through it. They walked for what seemed like hours and what set John on edge was the stillness and the quiet. It was as if there were no natural sounds. He could hear only their footsteps and their breathing. No one spoke because the echo of their words seemed to bounce around them.

Teyla remembered a village from her childhood but she was surprised by her surroundings. The area they were pushing through had once been cleared. Zalenka was fascinated by the fact that it had overgrown so rapidly. What had ocurred in twenty years here would have taken a century of growth on Earth.

John thought about Rodney as they continued on. He wondered if Mckay would have seen the beauty of it all or if he would have catalogued it as scientific fact and filed it away as useless. A part of John knew that Rodney did see the beauty in things, even if he was disinclined to acknowledge it.

"Major!" Ford tapped his shoulder.

"What is it?" John did a sweep of their surroundings as he asked.

Ford was pointing to the east. "There, sir. I saw something. Looks like smoke."

John squinted and could see it. A silvery-white spiral as thick looking as a cloud. John turned to Teyla. "Stay with Zalenka while Ford and I do a recon." When Teyla nodded, John signalled to Ford and they moved out.

Even before they reached the location, John knew what they would find. He blinked his eyes as the acrid smell assailed his nostrils. The stench turned his stomach and John closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he had snapped into soldier-mode, which allowed him a certain detachment. He heard Ford emptying his belly nearby and walked away a bit, carefully stepping around the charred remains of what looked to be dozens of bodies. The ground for a hundred yards, full circle, was blackened. John went back to Ford. "You okay?"

"No, sir." Ford wiped his sleeve across his mouth and still looked green around the gills. "Who would do such a thing?"

"I don't know." John wished that he did.

Ford gagged a bit but recovered and asked, "Wraith?"

John shook his head. "They eat their food raw." The image of Sumner, on his knees in front of the Wraith Caretaker as she sucked the life out of him, danced in John's head. He shook it away. "This was someone else."

"A new enemy?"

"Maybe just to the Lithosians." John rather hoped so anyway. They had enough to worry about dealing with the Wraith. "Let's go back." John turned and walked away, but the image was burned into his mind and would not fade away.

They returned to Atlantis with heavy hearts. John did a debrief then Weir informed him that Team 3 had been attacked by a Wraith ship but had made it back with only minor injuries.

Weir locked eyes with the Major. "They're getting closer, John."

He nodded and ran a hand over his face. He was so damn tired. "I know."

"We're not ready for them." Weir slumped into a chair looking worn out.

"We will be," John said softly. "When the time comes....we'll do what needs to be done."

Weir managed a shaky smile. "Thank you for saying that. And for believing it."

John tried to find a smile of his own to give her, but he didn't have it in him. "I'm going to go shower then visit Rodney. So you'll know where to find me if you need me."

"You need to get some sleep, John," Weir countered. "You look dead on your feet."

"Can't sleep." His thoughts and emotions were too chaotic, and the images from Lithos were still imprinted in his brain. John glanced at his watch only to jump when Weir whispered,

"Twelve hours."

John looked at her and saw sadness in her eyes. Twelve more hours before Beckett turned off the machines. Not enough time to finish the Harry Potter book. Not enough time to say all the things that he wanted to say. John nodded at Weir then turned away, feeling stiffness in his body as he walked out of the room. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to Rodney but John knew he would have to find a way to do it. To let Rodney go.

He made it to his room without remembering how he got there. He stripped off his gear and stepped into the shower, trying to scrub away his sadness and his fears. He had to be strong for Rodney, he owed him that and so much more. John dried off and got dressed then he headed for the infirmary. Beckett was checking on Rodney but waved. John nodded then sat down to watch. He felt calmer now that he was here.

"No changes," Beckett said, as he left Rodney and moved to John's side.

"No hope...right?" John held Beckett's gaze as he asked. And he had to ask.

Beckett rubbed a hand over his face, breaking eye contact. "I wish there was, Major. But there's nothing more that can be done." He patted John's shoulder. "Don't stay too long. You need some sleep."

John forced a smile. "I'll sleep later." He watched Beckett nod then walk away. Once he was alone with Rodney, John rose from the chair and moved to the bed. He reached for Rodney's hand. "You know....I've been trying to think of some way to repay you for what you did. Thank you...that's not good enough. I'm not really a man of words, Rodney. I'm a man of action. But there is nothing I can do to save you. I'd do anything though...if I could. So...I guess I'm stuck with words." John paused for a moment, fighting the sting of tears in his eyes. He rubbed them away with the back of his free hand, then he cleared his throat and regained his composure. He had to be strong for Rodney.

"Remember that day you asked me about my parents? If they loved me. I know you asked because of your own crappy childhood. And I blew you off and told you my parents were cool. I lied. My mom was okay. She died when I was eight, but I remember she used to sing me to sleep with a lullaby. Everynight. And she smelled like roses. So I kinda have a thing for roses." John laughed but it was a broken sound and he cleared his throat again. "My dad? Well...we never really got along. He about flipped when I told him I wanted to be a pilot. He wanted me to do something related to Mathematics. I told him I would put math to good use in my flying. But the kicker was when I told him I was going to join the Air Force. He hit me." John pressed a hand to his left cheek as he spoke. "Hurt like hell but I didn't make a sound. I just looked at him until he walked away." The memory wrapped around John for a moment, until he shook it off. But the chill of it lingered and he felt himself shaking. "Anyway...my childhood kind of sucked too. I just...I wanted you to know that."

A tear slid down John's cheek and he brushed it away as he leaned in to brush a kiss to Rodney's lips. "The first time I told you I loved you...you thanked me. I thought that was so weird...but so you, Rodney. But when you said it back to me....that's when I understood what you meant. Because you showed me what loving someone and being loved back really means. And I want to thank you for that. I just wish I had done it sooner. But I think you can hear me, Rodney. I think you're the only person who's every really *heard* me. Ya know...you listen to what I say but you *hear* what I mean. No one else gets me the way you do. I'm going to miss that. Fuck....Rodney....I'm going to miss you. Too damn much." John broke off as more tears fell. He swiped at them with his shirtsleeve but they kept falling.

Finally John buried his face in his hands and let the tears fall. He made no sound as he cried. Because he knew that Rodney was listening and John didn't want him to hear his heart breaking. And when the tears finally stopped, John felt almost calm. He kissed Rodney again then moved to sit in his chair. He picked up the Harry Potter book and began reading. Just a few more hours and he could finish it.

Six hours had passed when Beckett came back to check on Rodney. He'd gone to the Mainland to help one of the Athosian children that had badly broken his leg. He had then been called to Weir's office. She had been to visit Rodney twice. So now Carson glared at John as he read from the third Harry Potter book with a voice that was almost hoarse. Beckett turned away to check Rodney's vitals then turned to glare at John. "Major...I thought I told you to go get some sleep?"

"I have a bad tendency to disobey orders," John countered.

"I've spoken to Weir about you."

John was surprised to hear that. He set the book down and rose to his feet. "What about me?" he demanded, not liking the look in Beckett's eyes. It was a stubborn glare to match John's own.

Beckett almost smirked as he replied, "She gave me a direct order to sedate you."

"Not happening!" John felt anger welling up in him. Anger that Weir would betray him in this way. That she would order him away from Rodney when there was so little time left.

"I have two marines waiting outside." Beckett's voice was quiet but laced with steel. "If you don't cooperate, Major, I'll call them in to hold you down."

John shook his head. "You can't do that."

Beckett sighed. "I can, Major...and I will. If you make me. You need to sleep. You're dead on your feet." Even as Beckett spoke, he watched John sway and almost stumble. Beckett grabbed him by the arm. "In my expert opinion...you're going to collapse from exhaustion in about an hour. I know you haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours, so you probably won't even last that long."

John wanted to argue the point but he couldn't. Now that he was on his feet he felt light-headed and bone tired. But still he felt the need to plead his case. "I have to be here when you....when the machines are turned off. I have to be here."

"And you will." Beckett guided John towards the door. "I'll only knock you out for a few hours."

"Promise?"

Beckett hesitated briefly, then nodded. "I promise."

John let himself be led to his quarters. He didn't have the strength to argue and a part of him wanted this to be over. He could sleep a bit, wake up, then say goodbye to Rodney. It would be better that way. John felt a bit cowardly about it, but he believed Rodney would understand. They reached his quarters, the two big marines, escorting them. John opened the door with a thought and stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes and laid down on his bed. His eyelids felt so heavy it was hard to keep them open. "I think I can sleep on my own. Just send someone to wake me in time." John doubted he would hear an alarm.

"I think a shot is best," Beckett countered, even as he prepared John's arm. "A pinch and we'll be done," he continued, as he slid the needle in.

"Didn't feel a thing," John mumbled, as his eyes drifted closed. Already he could feel warm darkness swirling around him. It was silvery at first but soon shaded to black and John slipped peacefully into the void.

~~~

Weir was pacing in her office when Dr. Beckett entered. "Is he asleep?" she asked, without preamble.

Beckett nodded. "Aye."

"How long will he be out?"

"He won't wake up until it's over." Beckett looked unhappy as he spoke. "Just like you ordered.

Weir touched his arm. "I'm the one he'll be mad at, Carson. I can live with that. It's better this way and you know it. We've lost Rodney...we can't lose John too. I can't," she ammended.

Beckett nodded. "I know. You did the right thing. It just doesn't feel so right..right now." With that he turned an walked away.

Leaving Weir to the turmoil of her emotions as she counted down the hours to Rodney's last breath.

~~~

John dreamed and it was beautiful.

He dreamed of the past. Of conversations with Rodney late at night, sitting out on the balconey and eating chocolate. They had talked about anything and everything and sometimes nothing at all. Sometimes the best moments had been those shared in silence.

He dreamed of the present, reliving the moment when Rodney had fallen. Remembering the weight of him in his arms. John shuddered as he tried to quell the panic that had washed over him, remembering how he had forced himself to stay in control. To leave Rodney at his feet while he turned to fire upon the enemy.

He dreamed of the future they would never have. Rodney wanted to learn how to surf and John had been working on a project with Zalenka. Crafting a workable surf board from materials gathered on the mainland. Zalenka had agreed to help so long as John gave him a few surfing lessons. In private. He was too embarrassed to try it in front of an audience.

The future had seemed so close but now it was out of reach and John felt anger welling up inside him, breaking him out of the dream yet not fully into consciousness. He was somewhere in between. Somewhere in a misty-silver darkness that felt cold and hollow and he was all alone. Always alone.

I'm here, John. You're not alone.

"Rodney?" John spun around and the mist brightened until it was almost glowing. "Rodney...is that you?" John squinted and then he saw it. A dark figure approaching. He waited and the mist evaporated, revealling the figure haloed in a soft golden light. "Rodney!" John moved towards him.

You can't touch me, but I'm here. I can't stay

"It's not time yet!" John felt panic grip him. "I'm not there, Rodney. I'm not with you. You can't go yet."

I don't want to go, John.

John moved foward but he couldn't close the distance between them. "Please don't leave me, Rodney," he begged. "I need you."

I love you, John

"I love you too. That's supposed to be enough, right? It has to be enough, Rodney. I can't let you go. I'm not ready."

I know.

"Rodney!" As John watched Rodney faded into darkness and drifted away on the mist. "NO!" John screamed, the sound ripped from his soul. He felt consciousness return like a slap in the face and found himself sitting up, his heart thumping against his ribcage. Panic made it hard to breathe and John was gasping in air as he stared at his watch. He knew before he focused on the time.

"Bastards! You fucking bastards!" John was off the bed and across the room, grabbing the chair in the corner and hurling it into the wall. It was over. Rodney was gone and John had slept through it. Rodney had died six hours ago and he had died alone. "You bastards..." John whispered, all the fight gone out of him. Rodney had come to him to say goodbye the only way he could. But John had promised to be with him and he would find a way. "I love you, Rodney," he breathed. And he felt within a sense of peace.

~~~

Weir stood next to Rodney's bed, watching him breathe. She still could not believe that he was alive. None of them had expected Rodney to start breathing on his own. At first, when Beckett turned off the machines, Rodney had made no sound. The silence had been heavy and heartbreaking. But then Weir had heard it. A soft, choking, sound. Then a gasp and Rodney was gagging. Beckett had been stunned for a moment then he was working over Rodney, coaxing him to relax, as he placed an oxygen canula in his nose. He had sent everyone away and an hour later he had come out of the room with a smile on his face. Rodney was going to live.

"Miracles can happen," Weir whispered.

"Yes, ma'am," Ford replied. He was gathered about the bed along with Teyla and Dr. Beckett. Everyone was smiling.

Weir nodded in satisfaction. She was holding Rodney's hand and he felt warm to her now. Before he had felt so cold. It made everything seem more real, and she could almost convince herself that Rodney nearly dying had been nothing more than a bad dream.

Beckett checked Rodney's vitals again and grinned. "He's doing very well. But I think it's time everyone cleared out for a bit."

"John should be here," Weir stated. Then she gasped as she felt Rodney's fingers tighten against her hand. She looked at his face but his eyes were still closed.

"He should be waking up anytime soon," Beckett stated, glacing at his watch.

Ford headed for the door. "I'll get the Major," he offered. Then he was gone.

Weir locked eyes with Beckett. "It's a good day," she said softly.

"Aye. A good day to be alive."

~~~

Ford stood outside Major Sheppard's door. He hit the panel that activated the door when the Major did not respond to him calling his name a few times. Ford stepped inside and was surprised to see the bed was empty. Then he noticed the chair lying against the wall. Instinct made him tense up but he felt himself relaxing when he realized the shower was running. Ford righted the chair and sat down to wait. But he got that creepy feeling again and found himself on his feet and on the move, instinct propelling him into the other room. "Fuck! FUCK!" He ran back into the other room and snatched the major's radio transmitter off the desk. "Medical emergency in Major Sheppard's room!" Ford shouted. "I need help! NOW!" He tossed the transmitter and ran back into the bathroom. Grabbing at towels, Ford stepped into the shower stall and turned the water off, then he moved to the figure that was slumped in the corner. "Major...sir!" Ford did not expect a reply, but he was almost relieved when the major moaned in pain as Ford wrapped the towels around his wrists, binding the gashes closed as best he could. But the major's blood bloomed through the cloth and stained Ford's hands. But he held on tight and prayed.

~~~

"How could this happen?" Weir asked the question of both herself and doctor Beckett as they stood beside Major Sheppard's bed. He lay still and pale, hooked up to IV's and monitors that beeped softly. Both wrists were bandaged and light restraints bound him to the bed.

Beckett rubbed at his tired eyes then shook his head. "I dunno, Dr. Weir. I wish I did."

Elizabeth felt the tired burn of exhaustion in her own eyes and blinked hard, forcing back tears as much as weariness. "He is the last person I would have ever suspected would try to kill himself. It doesn't make sense."

"No it doesn't." Beckett moved about, checking the major's IV, then his vitals. "When he wakes up you'll have to ask him why he did it."

"When will that be, Carson?"

Beckett shrugged. "I don't know. He's not putting up much of a fight. I don't think he wants to wake up."

Elizabeth stiffened. "But he's not going to die -- right? You said Ford found him in time."

"He'll live, such as it is," Beckett allowed. "Doesn't mean he's going to wake up any time soon. This isn't just about his physical well being, Doctor. If Major Sheppard doesn't want to come back to us...there's nothing I can do."

"I see." Elizabeth nodded at Beckett then reached for John's hand. He felt cold and she shivered. "Don't give up, Major," she beseeched him. "You're a fighter. Don't stop fighting now." That said she turned and walked away. But she would be back later to sit with him. Just as she had done for
the past three days. Just as she would continue to do, until John opened his eyes.

~~~

Three days turned into six and John didn't make any progress. But Rodney did. He was sitting up and eating on his own. His color was back and he was talking, even though his voice was hoarse from the tubing. The moment Dr. Beckett came to check on him, Rodney pushed his tray aside. "I want to see Major Sheppard."

Dr. Beckett shook his head. "You're not ready to get out of bed yet, Rodney. You know you're still weak."

"I also know you found a couple of wheel chairs," Rodney shot back. "Get me one."

"Maybe in a few days."

Rodney yanked the covers back and focused on getting his muscles to obey him. He got one leg to slump off the bed. "Now!" he gritted out. He got the other leg close when Beckett was suddenly there, pressing him back into the pillows. "I have to see John!" Rodney snarled.

Beckett pulled the covers back into place. "Rest some more and I'll get the chair." He knew it would be easier to give in.

"Thank you." Rodney let himself relax against the pillows and he even dozed off a bit. But he came awake when he sensed Beckett's return. He opened his eyes to find the doctor, and the wheelchair, next to his bed. Rodney said nothing as Beckett helped him get into the chair. He focused all his energy on completing what should have been a simple task, but his muscles felt like melted rubber. Still, it was worth the pain and a bit of light-headeness. Rodney felt as if he had accomplished something. "Take me to John," he begged. And it was begging but he didn't care.

"You can't stay up long," Beckett cautioned, as he wheeled Rodney to the other section of the infirmary. He pulled back the privacy curtain then manuevered Rodney as close to the bed as he could."

Rodney nodded at Beckett that this was good. "Thanks. Give me half an hour."

Beckett shook his head. "Ten minutes, tops. You won't last long."

"Watch me," Rodney muttered beneath his breath. He turned his head to glare at Beckett and kept glaring until the man got the hint and left. Only then did Rodney reach for John's hand. "I heard every word you said to me, Major," Rodney hissed. "Now I want you to listen to me. Wake up! Do you hear me, John? Wake..the fuck...up!" There was no response and Rodney closed his eyes against the sting of hot tears. "Don't do this to me, you bastard! Don't you dare leave me now! Wake up!" Rodney was almost screaming now. Screaming and shaking and he almost missed the twitch of John's fingers against his palm. Falling silent, Rodney stared at John's face, willing him to open his eyes. And he smiled when hazel eyes suddenly stared back at him.

John blinked and choked on a sob as Rodney's face came into focus. "No...no no no," he whispered, his voice broken. He didn't want to dream about Rodney anymore. He didn't want to be alive to dream. He did not want to be alive. He made to dispel the image with the wave of his arm but he couldn't lift it. "No! Don't..please!" John struggled to free himself. He had to make Rodney go away. He couldn't bear saying goodbye again.

Rodney clutched John's hand, stilling him as he fought against the restraints. "Shh..it's okay, John," he whispered, soothingly. "It's okay, baby. I'm here. I'm really here." Rodney squeezed John's hand as hard as he could. "I'm alive, baby. I'm alive."

"Oh...god!" John went still as Rodney's words sank into his heart. He felt the warm fingers that touched him. Rodney was touching him. "You're...real?"

"As real as it gets," Rodney confirmed. "I didn't leave you, John. I wasn't ready to leave you. And I won't let you leave me...you got that? You can't leave me, baby."

John felt himself begin to shake. He wanted to touch Rodney's face, to feel the wetness of his tears. He needed to feel him. But the bindings held his arms to his sides. "Please...." he begged.

But Rodney shook his head. "I can't, baby. I need you to be safe. To be okay."

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." John could see the anger that simmered below the surface of Rodney's tears. "Please don't be mad at me."

"I am mad," Rodney shot back, wiping his face with his free hand. "Why did you do this? Why? I jumped in front of a fucking bullet to save you. I wanted you to live, John! Why the hell did you want to die?"

John closed his eyes, unable to look at the pain he had caused. The pain that glittered in Rodney's eyes and was thick in his voice. "I thought....I thought you left me. I thought you were gone....I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." John whispered.

Rodney squeezed his hand then reached up to touch John's face. "You wouldn't let me go. I can't leave you, baby. I won't."

Beckett came back and interrupted the moment when he realized John was awake. "Well I'll be damned!" he declared, as he moved to check Sheppard's vitals. "Welcome back, Major."

Tears were sliding down John's face and he tugged at his bindings. He looked at Beckett. "Please," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, they stay for now," Beckett replied. Then he looked at Rodney. "You need to get back to bed."

"Put me in this room." Rodney was still clutching John's hand and there was no well in hell he was leaving him again.

Beckett opened his mouth as if to argue then snapped it closed. "All right. Give me some room to check Major Sheppard over then I'll have a bed moved in here."

Rodney nodded, satisfied. For now. He smiled at John and squeezed his hand before letting go. "I'll be right here, okay?"

"Okay." John kept his head turned towards Rodney as Beckett checked him.

"I'm going to arrange the bed then bring you both some soup," Beckett stated. Then he disappeared to his tasks.

Rodney moved back to John's side. "Go to sleep, baby. You need to rest and get strong again. I need you to be strong, John."

John didn't reply with words. There were no words to say what he was feeling right now. But he held tight to Rodney's hand as he let his eyes drift closed. And when sleep claimed him, there were no more dreams.

~~~

Both John and Rodney made incredible progress. John spent two days in restraints and bitched the entire time, but Beckett refused to release him until he talked to the staff psychologist, Renee Porter. So John did and she came out two hours later and gave Beckett her report.

John appeared to be fine, but she made a notation that was similiar to those on his files from the other two psychologists he had talked too while back on Earth. Sessions that had been required after the missions John had completed. Twelve sessions in all and both doctors had cleared him, but with reluctance. Like Dr. Porter, they felt that Major Sheppard had issues that he refused to deal with. But he knew how to play the game and all the right things to say. So they had to let it go. Dr. Porter had no choice but to do the same. Dr. Beckett, however, read between the lines and informed the major that he would attend weekly sessions with Dr. Porter or he could forget about ever leading another mission through the gates.

Once again, John had bitched about it, but had relented in the end. In part because Rodney had asked him to do it.

Ten days later they were both released. John would be allowed to return to light duty in two days. Rodney was confined to his room for another week, and he would continue physical therapy. For now both men were content to be together.

They lay together on Rodney's bed. Rodney was half reclining against the wall and John's head was on his chest, ear pressed over his heart. John liked to listen to Rodney's heart beating. Reminding him that the man he loved was still alive.

Rodney liked combing his fingers through John's hair, feeling it's softness against his skin. They had come so close to losing each other and a part of Rodney feared that John was still fragile to the point where he might break, and Rodney would lose him in the end. "Why did you want to die?" Rodney asked. He knew about John's sessions and he knew John well enough to know that his lover would never tell a stranger the truth. He would make up some bullshit story and infuse enough pain and enough charm to make it believable. But it would still be a lie. Rodney shifted a little when John didn't reply. He wanted to see his lover's face. "Why?"

"It's not the first time." The confession was barely a whisper.

But Rodney heard it and it shook him. "You tried to kill yourself before? When?"

John shifted so that his head was now in Rodney's lap as he faced him, and he let one palm rest over Rodney's heart. "I was fifteen. I overdosed on my step mother's valium."

"Why?" Rodney could not imagine what would be so horrific as to make a teenaged John want to end his own life. John Sheppard valued life. And he was a strong man. Rodney was stunned. "What happened, John?"

"I didn't know what else to do to make it stop." John rubbed his palm over Rodney's chest. "I didn't really want to die...I just wanted to go to sleep without being afraid."

Rodney stilled John's hand. "Afraid of what?"

John sighed and closed his eyes, but opened them quickly as if afraid of what he might see in his head. "I could never make my father happy. No matter what I did...it was the wrong thing. But he liked to pretend that he loved me. Like that mattered, you know? And...he liked to punish me as well. But that was hard to do and still keep up appearances. But he found a way."

"What did he do, John?" Rodney wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he could feel John trembling and it scared him.

"He got remarried. When I was twelve. She was older than my mom...more politically correct as as a Major's wife. My father was very..ambitious. Anyway. They came home from their honeymoon and I was already asleep. I felt someone hovering and I woke up and he was on me. I was on my stomach and he pinned me with his body and yanked my clothes down and...fucked me." John broke off to laugh. The sound brittle and tight with pain.

Rodney was stunned. He had never expected to hear this. "Your father raped you?"

John shrugged. "When he was done he told me he loved me and I was a good boy."

"How...how long did he...did he abuse you?" It was hard for Rodney to say the words.

"Three years. I started fighting back and that pissed him off so he'd hit me and tie me down. It was getting harder to hide the bruises. But he still kept coming."

Rodney could feel John's body start to twitch. He went from shaking to shuddering. "Didn't you try to tell anyone?"

Another brittle laugh escaped John. "My stepmom. There wasn't anyone else to tell. And she said no one would believe me. And if they did...they'd blame me."

"When did stop?" Rodney assumed that it did.

"After I took the pills. Dad called a friend of his, a doctor and they kept it quiet. So he finally sent me to military school. Which was what I wanted all along. Then everything was okay."

Rodney wanted to believe that. He shifted again and gripped John by the arm, tugging him up so he could hold him. "I'm so sorry, baby."

John hugged Rodney to him and started rocking. "Don't be," he whispered. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm stronger now, Rodney. We both are. We survived."

"I know." Rodney pressed kisses to John's temple, then eased back so he could claim his lips. They weren't ready for anything more. They were too exhausted and worn out in every way. But Rodney wanted John to feel his love for him. And he felt John's love in return. It was in the way they kissed. Soft and tender kisses meant to heal. When they pulled apart, Rodney locked eyes with his lover. "Don't ever...ever...do that again. Okay? No matter what. I don't want you to die, John. Promise me."

"I don't want to die, Rodney." John leaned in to kiss him once more. "I just don't want to live without you."

Rodney shook his head at him. "Not an option, John. Not anymore. Promise me that no matter what happens in the future, you'll find a way to live."

John held Rodney's gaze for a time then he nodded. "I promise. But you have to promise not to sacrifice yourself for me. It's my job to save you, Rodney."

"It's our job to save each other," Rodney countered, as he let one palm press to John's cheek.

"It's not that simple." John leaned into the caress and closed his eyes.

Rodney sighed. "No..it's not simple. I wish it were. I wish I could make it simple."

John smiled and opened his eyes. "I don't care about that. All I care about is you. No one has ever loved me the way you do, Rodney. No one."

"And no one ever will," Rodney promised, as he drew John back down into his arms and held on tight. And John was still shaking but Rodney felt the tremors ease in time as John's body relaxed and he drifted into sleep. And Rodney watched over him. And he cried as he thought about what John's father had done to him. And he wondered how John had learned to believe in love after such a betrayal. And how he had managed to teach Rodney to do the same.

Resting his cheek on the top of John's head, Rodney let his tears fall into the dark hair as he prayed to whatever god would listen. For forgiving Rodney his sins and gifting him with a man who not only loved him, but liked him. Believed in him. And would die for him. "I love you, John Sheppard," Rodney whispered. Then he drifted off to sleep.

~~~

Two months later, John and Rodney stepped through the gate an onto another world.

"WRAITH!" John shouted, as he caught sight of dark figures approaching. "Everyone fall back! NOW!"

The team ran back towards the gate. Ford dialed it back up then he and Teyla dashed towards it, firing as they went.

John was on his belly, shooting with precision. Wraith after Wraith falling before him. He didn't look away from the enemy, but he could feel Rodney's presence. "GO!" John ordered.

Rodney hesistated, but only for a second. Then he was on his feet and running. He made it to the gate and Ford pushed him through. He wanted to turn around and run back but he stood rooted to the spot. Watching . He could hear more shots and then Teyla was beside him. Then Ford. "John.." Rodney whispered.

And suddenly John was there, shouting, "Close the gate!"

Grodin punched a button and the gate started to shut down. But in that last second before it closed, a burst from a Wraith stun gun blasted through, hitting John in the back. He went down hard.

Rodney fell to his knees beside him. "John!" He touched the dark hair.

And time stood still.

THE END