|
"Rodney."
Carson
gently
pried
Rodney's
hand
from
where it
was
tightly
gripped
around
John's.
"Come
on,
laddie.
We need
to talk
to you,"
he said
softly.
"I
should
stay
with
him,"
Rodney
replied,
numbly.
He stood
there,
beside
the
infirmary
bed,
gazing
at
John's
still,
pale
body,
attached
to
dozens
of
monitors.
"He's in
a coma,
Rodney –
and I
need to
speak to
you. I
need to
find out
what
happened.
That's
the only
way we
can help
him,"
Carson
insisted,
gently
but
firmly.
Rodney
nodded –
if it
would
help
John
then
he'd do
it. That
was the
only
thing
that
would
convince
him to
leave
his
lover
right
now.
Carson
led him
into his
office
and
closed
the door
behind
him.
"I hope
you
don't
mind but
I asked
Teyla to
sit in
on
this,"
Carson
said.
"She's
got an
understanding
of the
lifebond
that
might
help us
shed
some
light on
what's
happened
to
John."
"The
lifebond?
We're
not
lifebonded."
Rodney
frowned.
"I think
that
might be
part of
the
problem,"
Teyla
explained,
sitting
forward
in her
chair.
"You had
a
natural
and
powerful
link,
Rodney,
and John
was
forced
to sever
that in
order to
allow
you to
concentrate
on
getting
us
home."
"We
think
that
when he
severed
the link
he
caused
himself
a
devastating
trauma,
Rodney,"
Carson
said
softly.
"There's
no
medical
reason
why he
isn't
waking
up. His
heart is
fine,
and
there's
no brain
damage
as far
as we
can
see."
"This
sounds
like so
much
mumbo
jumbo to
me,
Carson!"
Rodney
snapped.
"Isn't
there
some
medicine
or
something
that you
can give
him to
cure
it?"
"No,
Rodney."
Carson
shook
his head
regretfully.
"It's
like
he's
lost
somewhere
inside
his own
mind.
There's
no
medicine
that
will
heal
that."
Rodney
shook
his
head,
frustrated
by all
this. He
was a
scientist
– he
understood
facts
and
figures,
had an
innate
grasp of
the
theories
of
physics,
and the
immutable
laws of
nature,
but not
all this
talk of
lifebonds
and
people
getting
lost
inside
their
own
minds.
That
made no
sense to
him
whatsoever.
"If you
had been
lifebonded
this
would
not have
happened,"
Teyla
told him
softly.
"He
hates
the idea
of
lifebonding,"
Rodney
snapped.
"His
parents…."
He
hesitated,
because
that
information
was
private,
and he
didn't
think
John
would
like him
sharing
it.
"He lost
one and
the
other
died as
a result
of the
bond. I
guessed
that,"
Teyla
said.
"If you
had been
lifebonded
he would
have had
greater
control
over the
bond
between
you and
might
have
been
able to
prevent
you
feeling
so much
of his
pain. He
certainly
would
not have
been
able to
sever a
full
lifebond
the way
he did
the
link. It
is our
belief
that a
lifebond
cannot
be
severed.
When one
half of
a bonded
pair
dies,
the
lifebond
is not
severed
even
then –
the bond
takes
the
other
with him
into
death,"
Teyla
said
earnestly.
"Which
is what
happened
to
John's
parents.
Yes. I
know,"
Rodney
said
impatiently.
"But how
the hell
is this
going to
help us
get John
back?"
"If you
can
re-establish
the
link,
Rodney…"
Carson
began.
"How? I
have no
idea how
it got
created
in the
first
place!"
Rodney
protested.
"It just
happened."
They
stared
at each
other
glumly.
Finally,
Carson
shook
his
head.
"Then
we'll
treat
him like
any
other
coma
patient.
Keep him
comfortable,
and talk
to him.
Try to
get
through
to him
that
way."
Rodney
turned
immediately,
wrenched
open the
door,
and
strode
back out
to
John's
bed.
"There
is
absolutely
no point
wasting
any more
time
talking
to the
so-called
medical
profession,"
he
muttered
to
himself.
"And
you," he
said,
reaching
John's
bed.
"Are a
malingerer.
Apparently
there's
absolutely
nothing
wrong
with
you."
He sat
down
beside
the bed,
and took
hold of
John's
hand
again.
It was
freezing
cold.
"Clearly
you just
want to
get out
of
polishing
your
boots,
or
taking
your
P-90
apart,
or
whatever
stupid
military
things
you
spend
your
time
doing
when
you're
not
pestering
me in
the lab,
or
getting
shot at
by the
Wraith,"
he
grumbled.
John
remained
unmoving.
His face
had a
greyish
hue
which
didn't
look at
all
natural.
Rodney
squeezed
his hand
hard.
"Oh for
god's
sake
wake
up," he
snapped.
John's
eyelids
didn't
so much
as
flicker.
Rodney
gazed at
him
blindly,
through
glassy
eyes. He
tried to
concentrate,
searching
for some
trace of
the link
they'd
once
shared.
He had
so often
felt it,
just
pulsing
warmly
in the
background,
quietly
connecting
them. It
had been
there
even
when
he'd
just
been
going
about
his
everyday
life,
barely
aware of
it.
Sometimes
he had
caught
little
glimpses
of it
when he
closed
his
eyes, or
drifted
off for
a
moment,
and it
had been
impossible
not to
be aware
of it
when
they had
sex.
Then it
had
cascaded
into
glorious
life,
and
bathed
them
both in
its
sweet
glow as
their
intimacy
strengthened
and
nurtured
it. But
now all
he felt
was a
raw
numbness,
like the
pain of
an
amputated
limb,
and,
just
beyond
that, an
inky
darkness
that was
so cold
it made
him
shiver
in the
warm
room.
How the
hell was
he
supposed
to mend
something
this
badly
broken?
He
didn't
know.
Rodney
spent
the next
twelve
hours
solid by
John's
side, to
no
avail.
He
watched
the
nurses
take
endless
readings,
watched
Carson
change
the
dressing
and
examine
the
wound on
his
lover's
neck.
Watched
John
lying
there,
unmoving,
dog tags
resting
on grey,
lifeless
skin.
"I do
have
work to
do you
know,"
he told
his top.
"There
are
experiments
in the
lab that
Radek is
probably
ruining
as we
speak.
Or at
least
I'm
speaking.
You're
just
wasting
everyone's
time by
taking
an
extended
nap."
"Rodney
– you
should
go back
to your
quarters.
Get some
rest,"
Carson
said,
appearing
in the
doorway.
"I'm not
leaving."
"If
there's
any
change
I'll
tell
you,"
Carson
insisted.
"I said,
I'm not
leaving."
"Aye,
you are,
laddie,"
Carson
replied.
"You're
worn
out,
Rodney
and you
can't
spend
every
minute
here
speaking
to him.
Comas
are
unpredictable
things,
Rodney.
He could
be out
for a
day, or
a week,
or a
month…or
longer.
He might
never…."
Carson
bit on
his lip.
Rodney
glared
at him.
"What
I'm
saying
is that
you have
to get
some
food and
sleep.
You
can't
spend
the rest
of your
life at
his
bedside."
"Fine."
Rodney
got up,
all his
muscles
protesting
the
sudden
movement.
He
hadn't
realised
just how
tired he
was.
Carson
had a
point.
It
wasn't
as if he
was
doing
any good
here
anyway.
Rodney
walked
wearily
back to
his
quarters
and
threw
himself
down on
the bed
without
even
turning
on the
light.
He was
so
tired,
but when
he
closed
his eyes
all he
could
see was
John's
pale
face,
lying on
that
infirmary
pillow.
He tried
to sleep
but it
was
useless.
How
could he
sleep
without
John's
warmth
beside
him, and
his
reassuring
weight
next to
him? How
could he
sleep
without
feeling
John's
breath
on the
back of
his
neck,
and
John's
arm
slung
around
his
waist?
How
could he
sleep
knowing
he might
never
again
feel
John's
fingers
on his
body,
making
love to
him so
erotically,
and
John's
magnificent
hard
cock
moving
inside
his ass?
How
could he
sleep
knowing
John was
lying,
cold and
lifeless
as a
corpse,
in the
infirmary
just
down the
hallway?
How
could he
sleep
knowing
that the
warm,
pulsing
connection
between
them had
been
severed,
leaving
him
feeling
cold and
empty
inside?
He got
up and
left his
quarters
without
thinking
twice
about
it. He
didn't
want to
be here.
He found
himself
walking
along
the
hallway
to
John's
quarters.
He let
himself
in and
turned
on the
light.
John's
leather
jacket
was
slung
over the
back of
a chair.
Rodney
picked
it up
and
wrapped
his arms
around
it,
holding
it
close.
It felt
stiff
and cold
without
John's
body
warming
it. He
caught
sight of
that
stupid
damn
book,
War and
Peace,
sitting
on the
nightstand.
Rodney
went
over to
it and
opened
it at
the
bookmarked
page,
then
snorted.
"Still
on page
seventeen
I see,"
he
muttered.
He threw
the book
down,
and then
threw
himself
down on
the bed,
still
clutching
the
jacket.
He
buried
his face
in
John's
pillow,
inhaling
his
scent,
and then
burrowed
under
the
sheets,
fully
dressed,
trying
to get
warm. He
still
felt
that
coldness
inside,
that
iciness
he'd
felt
ever
since
he’d
tried to
concentrate
on
finding
the
link,
back in
the
infirmary.
"Damn
it, I
already
told you
I love
you," he
said, to
the
empty
room.
"Wasn't
that
enough
for you?
You
didn't
have to
go and
die to
*prove*
anything."
He was
shivering
now. It
was so
damn
cold. He
wrapped
the
blankets
around
himself,
his
teeth
chattering.
He
should
be
warming
up by
now.
Maybe
there
was
something
wrong
with the
temperature
control?
He got
up and
went to
inspect
the
thermostatic
controls
on the
door
panel
but
everything
looked
fine.
"Then
why the
hell am
I
freezing
my ass
off?" he
asked
out
loud,
and it
was then
that the
realisation
hit him.
"I'm
not," he
said.
"*He*
is,
isn't
he? And
if I can
sense
that,
then the
link
must
still be
there,
somewhere.
If so,
there’s
still a
chance I
can
reach
him...."
He ran
back to
the
infirmary,
and
crashed
into
John's
room.
His top
was
lying
there,
looking
exactly
the same
as he
had when
Rodney
had left
him.
Carson
came
running
out to
see what
was
happening.
"Go
away,"
Rodney
told
him.
"Rodney
– what
the hell
are
you...?"
"I said
go
away,"
Rodney
replied,
bundling
Carson
out of
the
door.
"I'm not
going to
hurt
him. I
just
want to
be alone
with
him.
Go!"
Carson
looked
befuddled,
but he
nodded,
and did
as
Rodney
said.
When
he'd
gone,
Rodney
took a
deep
breath
and
surveyed
John
again.
He
remembered
that the
link
between
them had
always
grown
stronger
with
physical
contact.
Holding
hands
wasn't
enough
though.
Naked.
He
needed
to be
naked.
He took
off his
clothes,
and slid
under
the
infirmary
sheets.
Then he
stripped
John of
his
infirmary
gown,
trying
not to
dislodge
any of
the
wires
from the
various
machines
that
were
attached
to him.
When he
was
done, he
wrapped
his arms
around
his top,
and held
him
close.
John
felt as
cold as
he did
but it
felt
good to
be
beside
him
again,
skin or
skin.
Rodney
wasn't
entirely
sure
what to
do next.
He
closed
his
eyes,
and
tried to
focus on
where
the cold
was
coming
from.
"Damn
it, I'm
the
world's
worst
person
to go
tracking
down
someone
lost
inside
their
own
mind,"
he
complained
to
nobody
in
particular.
"Being
lost in
my own
mind is
my
default
state."
He
traced
his
fingers
over
John's
icy skin
as he
lay
there,
hoping
to warm
him with
his own
body
heat.
That
might
help. He
really
had no
idea. He
was,
quite
literally,
in the
dark on
this
one.
He tried
to
concentrate,
tried to
find the
link
between
them….
Something
pulsed,
brokenly,
and his
heart
gave a
little
flip. He
reached
out
towards
it - it
was
damaged
but
there
was
definitely
something
still
there….
He just
needed
to
nurture
it, to
feed it
with his
own
strength
and
energy,
and
encourage
it to
grow
again.
He was
tired,
and now
that he
was
nestled
close to
John he
thought
he might
finally
be able
to get
some
sleep.
In fact,
he
decided,
if John
pulled
through
this
then
there
was no
way they
were
spending
a night
apart
again
unless
it was
completely
unavoidable.
Never,
ever
again.
John was
his and
he was
John's.
He had
to stop
trying
to have
his cake
and eat
it and
accept
that. It
was too
late for
doubts
or
second
thoughts.
He was
already
crazy in
love and
there
was no
going
back.
The link
pulsed
again,
faint,
forlorn
and
erratic,
nothing
like the
usual
sweet,
easy
flow of
energy
he'd
felt in
the
past.
Rodney
let his
mind
wander
along
it.
Beyond
the
pulse
was an
icy
darkness
so bleak
and cold
that
every
instinct
in his
body
told him
not to
go
there,
to turn
back,
but he
couldn’t
do that.
John was
lost
somewhere
inside
that
frozen
place,
and he
had to
find
him.
He felt
as if he
was
walking
along a
dark
tunnel –
and then
it came
to an
abrupt
end.
Beyond
it the
darkness
was
impenetrable,
and
there
was no
way to
breach
the gap.
He could
only
wait
here, at
the end
of his
side of
the
tunnel,
radiating
warmth
and
reassurance,
and hope
that
John
would
find his
way to
him,
making
the link
whole
again.
"Come
back to
me," he
whispered
to the
cold,
still
form
lying
beside
him.
"Come
home."
~*~
John
whimpered.
He was
crouched
down,
his arms
around
his
body,
rocking
back and
forth,
trying
to keep
warm. It
was hard
to
concentrate,
because
he was
so cold,
but he
was sure
he’d
heard
something.
Or maybe
he’d
felt
something.
He
wasn’t
sure. It
was hard
to tell
the
difference
in here.
Cautiously,
he
looked
up. Was
it his
imagination
or had
the
darkness
lightened
a
little?
It
didn't
seem so
inky
black as
before.
Yes,
there
was
something
*there*,
shimmering
a little
in the
distance.
Something
warm and
inviting.
John
struggled
to get
to his
feet.
God he
ached.
And his
body was
so cold
and numb
that he
had to
force it
to
unfurl
and obey
his
commands.
When he
looked
up again
the
shimmering
had
gone,
and he
could
have
wept
with
frustration.
He
forced
himself
to
concentrate,
and
there it
was
again,
faint
and
fragile.
He took
a
tentative
step
towards
it, and
then
another.
As he
walked
he felt
his
fingertips
tingle,
and he
realised
they
were
growing
warm. He
tried to
walk
faster,
but it
was
still so
cold,
and he
was so
tired.
The
shimmering
didn’t
fade as
long as
he
really
concentrated
on it.
If he
allowed
himself
to let
go, even
for a
second,
then it
disappeared,
and
there
was only
darkness
again.
It was
hard,
and it
took all
his
energy
and
focus.
He crept
along,
feeling
his way,
guided
by that
light in
the
distance.
It was
brighter
now, he
was sure
of it.
The
warmth
in his
fingers
crept up
his arms
and
along
his
chest,
and all
the time
that
shimmering
light
seemed
to get a
little
closer.
He felt
like he
was
trapped
at the
end of a
tunnel,
and the
light
was the
only
thing he
could
see in
the
darkness.
It was a
long
journey,
and he
was
trembling
with
tiredness,
but he
walked
doggedly
on,
never
once
swerving
from his
path
towards
that
light,
shining
in the
distance.
It was
brighter
now, and
he tried
to call
out, to
draw its
attention
towards
him. It
glowed
brighter
in
response,
pulsing,
warm and
sweet,
calling
back to
him. He
redoubled
his
efforts,
running
now,
throwing
himself
towards
the
light.
The heat
in his
body
seemed
to
spread
as he
got
closer
to the
light.
First
his
fingers,
then his
arms,
and
torso.
Then it
spread
down
thought
his
groin
and into
his
legs,
all the
way down
to his
toes.
And he
could
feel it
creeping
up too,
up his
neck
towards
his
ears,
and then
enveloping
his
face.
The
light
was so
bright
now that
he could
feel it,
bathing
him in
its
heat,
welcoming
and
warming
him.
Then
there
was a
whooshing
sound
and the
warmth
was
everywhere,
coalescing
with the
bright
light,
which
was so
close
now it
was
blinding
him, and
then
everything
exploded.
Starbursts
erupted
around
him,
white
and
beautiful,
and he
had the
overwhelming
sensation
that he
was
safe. He
was so
tired
that he
barely
noticed
he was
warm
again,
before
falling
into a
deep,
restful
sleep.
"No you
can't,"
someone
was
saying
when he
woke up.
"I don't
care –
I'm not
moving.
Go away.
I'm
telling
you I
can feel
him
again,
somewhere
in
there,
so I am
not
moving
just so
you can
measure
the
circumference
of his
head or
whatever
useless
pseudo-medical
nonsense
it is
you want
to do to
him."
There
was a
muttered
reply,
just out
of
earshot.
John
ignored
it. He
honed in
instead
on the
faintly
irascible
sound
that was
like
music to
his
ears.
"See the
trouble
you're
causing,
you lazy
oaf?" He
felt a
finger
poking
into his
side. "I
know
you're
in there
so you
can stop
lounging
around
and get
your ass
moving
again.
I'm not
spending
my whole
life
lying
around
in here
– naked
I might
add –
fending
off
idiotic
nurses
who want
to take
your
pulse
every
five
minutes.
I felt
it you
know – a
few
hours
ago.
That…I
don’t
know…all
those
lights
and
fireworks
going
off. I
can feel
you now.
I can’t
believe
you’re
*still*
not
waking
up for
god’s
sake!”
With a
great
effort
of will,
John
forced
his
eyelids
open. He
lay
there
for a
moment,
blinking.
His body
ached,
and his
neck was
sore,
but he
felt
warm and
content.
He
realised
that was
because
he was
lying
half on
top of
his sub,
their
bodies
pressed
closely
together.
Rodney
was
sitting
up,
slurping
hot
coffee
from a
mug, and
John
realised
that he
was
using
Rodney's
body as
a
pillow,
his back
pressed
against
Rodney's
chest,
Rodney's
arm
slung
around
him to
keep him
there.
It was,
in
typical
Rodney
fashion,
kind of
awkward
and yet
comfortable
at one
and the
same
time.
"I don't
have to
wear
this
collar
you
know,"
Rodney
was
saying
to him,
stroking
his arm
absently
and
affectionately
with his
fingertips.
"If
you're
not
interested
there
are
plenty
of other
tops
around
who
are."
"If they
lay one
finger
on you…"
John
began,
the
words
out of
his
mouth
before
he even
realised
that he
was
fully
awake.
Rodney's
mug of
coffee
clattered
to the
floor.
"John?"
His face
was
being
held
between
two big
hands,
and two
bright
blue
eyes
were
gazing
at him –
or maybe
glaring
at him.
John
wasn't
entirely
sure.
"Who are
these
other
tops?"
John
said,
clearing
his
throat.
"I’m
gonna
kick
their
asses."
"Right
now you
couldn't
kick
your way
out from
under
this
sheet,"
Rodney
said, a
wide
grin
twisting
his
crooked
lips.
"What
happened?"
John
croaked,
his
fingers
going
cautiously
to his
neck
just to
check
that
damn bug
wasn't
still
there.
"I saved
the day
–
obviously
– and
got us
home.
You then
proceeded
to sulk
inside
your
head for
three
days
while I
had to
endure
Teyla
and
Carson
warbling
on about
how you
were in
a coma
because
of this
lifebond-not-lifebond
situation
we have
going
on. Oh,
and
while
we're on
that
subject
– you
and I
have a
new
rule."
"We do?"
John
glanced
up at
his sub.
"Yes. We
do.
What?
You
thought
you were
the only
one who
could
make the
rules?
Hah."
"And
this new
rule
would
be?"
John
prompted,
snuggling
a little
closer
to
Rodney
and
wondering,
absently,
how long
it would
be
before
they
could
have
sex.
"You do
not
ever,
ever,
ever…and
I mean
*ever*,
try to
sever
this
link
thing
we've
got,
ever
again.
Even if
you're
dying,
or some
other
hideous
Pegasus
galaxy
type
drama is
going on
in our
lives."
John
remembered
a
terrifying
dark
coldness,
and he
shivered.
"I think
that's a
rule I
can
agree
to," he
said, as
Rodney
took
hold of
him,
wrapped
his big
arms
around
him, and
pulled
him even
closer
in
response
to his
shivering.
John was
too
exhausted
to move
and he
just lay
there,
loving
the
scent of
Rodney's
skin,
and the
feel of
Rodney's
body
against
his own.
"I don't
understand
though.
I
thought
I
severed
the
link,"
John
murmured
wearily.
"You
did. I
restored
it,"
Rodney
told
him, a
hint of
smugness
in his
voice.
John
frowned,
and
tried to
concentrate.
He
couldn't
feel the
link
between
them but
there
was a
fragile
warmth
there,
hovering
just out
of
reach,
that
made him
think
that
Rodney
was
right.
Maybe
he'd
feel it
pulsing
again
when
they had
sex.
"You're
thinking
about
sex
aren't
you?"
Rodney
said,
kissing
his hair
noisily.
"Mmm.
Did you
get that
through
the
link?"
John
asked.
"Nope. I
got that
from
knowing
you all
too
well,"
Rodney
snorted.
"Don't
let
Carson
know
you're
thinking
about
sex.
He'll
probably
say
you're
not
allowed
to even
contemplate
it for
weeks
and
weeks.
Maybe
even
months.
Years."
"Yeah,
but he
knows I
won't
take any
notice
of that,
right?"
John
grinned
up at
Rodney.
He was
far too
weak for
any kind
of
physical
activity
right
now, but
he still
really
liked
thinking
about
it.
Especially
as
Rodney
was so
completely
naked.
"Yeah.
He
knows."
Rodney
leaned
down and
kissed
John on
the
lips. It
felt so
sweet,
so good.
John
just lay
there,
allowing
Rodney
to kiss
him, and
he felt
the
vitality
returning
to him
as every
second
passed.
"We
should
probably
tell him
you're
awake,"
Rodney
murmured
between
kisses.
"Not
just
yet. I'm
sure
he'll
want to
perform
dozens
of his
tests
once he
knows,
and I
don't
want to
do
anything
but lie
here
with you
right
now."
John
felt
completely
relaxed,
lying in
Rodney's
arms. It
felt so
good to
be warm
again.
"How
were you
able to
restore
the link
if I
severed
it?"
John
asked,
frowning.
"Apparently
you just
shut
down
your end
and the
trauma
of that
sent you
off
somewhere
within
your own
mind. My
end was
still
there,"
Rodney
said. "I
think of
it like
connecting
two
pieces
of
wiring.
Mine was
still
pulsing
– I just
had to
find
yours
and get
the two
back
together
again so
my pulse
could
start
yours
and mend
the gap.
Teyla
probably
has
reams of
mumbo
jumbo to
explain
it but
my
explanation
is
easier
to
understand."
"As
always,"
John
agreed,
because
one
thing
Rodney
was
really
good at
was
technical
explanations.
And
truly
spectacular
blow
jobs.
And many
other
things
besides.
“Although
I do
seem to
remember
doing
some of
the work
myself.
Not that
it’s
like you
to take
all the
credit
or
anything….”
He
definitely
remembered
staggering
towards
a bright
light.
He was
pretty
sure
they’d
both
helped
restore
the link
and it
hadn’t
*all*
been
Rodney’s
doing.
“I’m
sure you
helped
in some
minor
way,”
Rodney
said
patronisingly.
John
grinned
to
himself.
It was
so good
to be
back.
“Teyla
did say
that if
we'd
been
lifebonded
none of
this
would
have
happened
because
you
wouldn't
have
been
able to
sever
the
link.
She also
said
that
lifebonding
would
give us
more
control
over the
link,"
Rodney
said.
John
stiffened.
"I know,
I know.
I told
her
you're
not a
great
fan of
lifebonding,
and I
have to
say I've
never
been
very
enthusiastic
myself,
but, one
day, I
might
have to
insist,"
Rodney
murmured,
kissing
John's
hair
again.
"I
thought
you were
a
commitment-phobe?"
John
raised
an
eyebrow.
"Yes,
well,
there's
only so
many
times
you can
watch
someone
you love
die.
Once is
more
than
enough,
thank
you very
much.
You are
not,
under
any
circumstances,
to die
again."
Rodney
prodded
his arm
forcefully,
making
John
wince.
"I'll
try my
best,
but I'm
a
soldier,
Rodney,"
John
said
softly.
"And if
there's
any
dying to
be done
we're
usually
first in
line. If
you and
I were
lifebonded,
and I
died,
the city
would
lose
both of
us – and
your
brain is
too
valuable
to
waste."
"Well,
agreed,
it would
be an
enormous
loss to
the
universe.
However,
did you
ever
stop to
think
that
being
lifebonded
might
actually
*save*
our
lives?
We could
heal
each
other
and
share
any
injuries."
"True,"
John
said
slowly.
He still
had very
ambivalent
feelings
about
lifebonding.
He had
spent
the past
eighteen
or so
years
resenting
it
bitterly,
and the
previous
few
months
starting
to
understand
the
appeal,
but it
was hard
to let
go of
almost a
lifetime's
prejudice
so
quickly.
He
didn't
feel
like he
wanted
to be
having
this
conversation
right
now so
he threw
what he
knew
would be
a highly
effective
spanner
into the
works.
"Suppose
we had
kids
though?
I don't
think
it's
fair on
the kids
of a
lifebonded
couple."
The
spluttering
took up
most of
the next
minute.
"Do I
look,"
Rodney
blustered
at last,
"like
someone
who
would be
good
with
kids?"
"I think
you'd
make a
great
dad,"
John
said,
smiling
up at
him
cheerfully,
and that
ended
any
further
conversations
about
lifebonding
- for
the time
being at
least.
John was
under no
illusions
that
this
subject
wouldn't
arise
again,
because
regardless
of what
he
wanted,
or even
what
Rodney
wanted,
the
universe
clearly
had
different
ideas on
the
subject.
"On the
subject
of
fathers…"
John
smiled.
"You
were
wrong.
They do
like
you."
"What?"
Rodney
frowned,
blue
eyes
bemused,
but John
didn't
have
time to
explain
because
at that
moment
Carson
stuck
his head
around
the
door,
and,
seeing
John was
conscious,
called
every
nurse in
the
infirmary
to come
check on
him.
Rodney
was
dispatched
out of
his bed
and
then, as
John had
predicted,
he was
subjected
to every
known
medical
procedure
under
the sun.
John
made a
swift
recovery,
and
within a
couple
of days
he was
clamouring
to be
allowed
to
return
to his
quarters.
Partly
he was
bored,
but he
was also
hungry
to be
alone
with
Rodney,
and make
love to
his sub.
Despite
the fact
that
Rodney
had
assured
him that
the link
between
the two
of them
was
working
again,
John
wanted
to feel
it. He
was
scared
that
he’d
somehow
damaged
it
irrevocably,
and that
it might
not be
as
strong
as it
had been
before.
He
missed
that
warm,
pulsing
energy
and the
sense of
being
connected
to
Rodney.
If he
concentrated,
really
hard, he
thought
he could
feel it,
but he
knew
that he
needed
to make
love to
Rodney,
to be
*inside*
Rodney,
to stand
any
chance
of
returning
it to
its full
strength.
It had
always
been
stronger
when
they
were
physically
close,
and
strongest
of all
when
they
were
making
love.
Carson
was
being
difficult
though.
John
tried
every
trick in
the
book,
from
charming
the
doctor
to
pulling
rank on
him, but
Carson
seemed
to be
prepared
for each
and
every
one of
them.
"I'm the
doctor,
you're
the
patient,
and I
say
you're
not
ready
yet,"
Carson
told
him,
smiling
at him
sweetly
as he
filled
in
John's
chart.
"Now, I
don't
argue
with you
when you
take me
offworld
do I?
You're
in
charge
there.
I'm in
charge
here."
"I'm
fine
though,"
John
growled,
pacing
around
the
small
area
around
his bed
like a
caged
tiger.
"Aye,
well,
I'll be
the
judge of
that.
And you
should
be
getting
back to
bed now,
laddie,
before
you wear
out the
flooring
over
there."
"Rodney?"
John
glanced
at his
sub, who
was
sitting
in a
chair to
one
side,
legs up
on the
bed,
typing
vigorously
into his
laptop.
"Hmm?"
Rodney
glanced
up, and
then
shook
his
head.
"Oh no.
No, no,
no. I'm
not
getting
involved.
Carson
always
wins and
he's
like an
elephant
– he
*never*
forgets.
So next
time I
end up
in here
he'll
make me
suffer
for
taking
your
side in
oh so
many
nasty
little
ways."
"I'm
really
not that
vindictive,
Rodney,"
Carson
said, in
a
wounded
voice.
Rodney
gave him
a
sceptical
look,
and
Carson
was
unable
to
suppress
his
grin.
"There –
see.
It's
true!"
Rodney
said,
pointing.
John
sighed
and sat
back
down on
the bed.
"How
much
longer?"
he
demanded.
"We'll
see,"
Carson
said.
"If you
were a
normal
person
I'd
release
you now
– but I
know
that the
minute I
*do*
release
you,
you'll
ignore
all my
advice
about
taking
it easy
and run
off and
do
something
stupid,
or
heroic,
or both,
and then
I'll
have to
mend you
all over
again."
"Oh
excuse
me – I
mended
him this
time!"
Rodney
pointed
out.
"You did
a fine
job once
he was
breathing
again,
laddie,"
Carson
said,
smiling
at him
patronisingly.
"But
let's
not
forget
who got
his
heart
started.
Now,
Rodney –
visiting
hours
are long
since
over,
not that
you ever
take any
notice
of them.
You
should
be on
your
way. The
colonel
needs
rest and
you're
not a
restful
person."
John
grinned
at
Rodney's
outraged
look,
and
grabbed
his sub
for a
forceful
goodnight
kiss
before
sending
him on
his way
with a
slap to
his ass.
He
watched
that ass
disappear
out of
the
door,
gazing
at it
wistfully
as it
went.
Damnit
but he
was
missing
that
ass. He
was
desperate
to get
his
hands on
it
again,
and
really
play
with it.
"Down
boy,"
Carson
said,
rolling
his
eyes.
"That's
another
reason
why I'm
keeping
you
here.
You'll
jump his
bones
the
minute I
let you
out, and
you're
not
quite
ready
for that
yet,
John."
"I feel
ready,"
John
complained,
but
Carson
just
grinned,
and
shook
his
head.
"Tomorrow,"
he said.
"Really?"
John
looked
up
eagerly.
Carson
nodded.
"I want
to run
some
final
tests on
you
tomorrow
morning
but if
they're
okay,
I'll
release
you
around
lunchtime,"
he said.
John
fully
expected
Rodney
to show
up at
the
infirmary
for his
release,
but by
the time
Carson
finally
handed
over his
uniform
and gave
him
permission
to leave
there
was no
sign of
his sub.
"He
probably
got
engrossed
in
something
in the
lab and
forgot
the
time.
You know
what
he's
like,"
Carson
said
sympathetically
as John
tied up
his
bootlaces.
"Yeah. I
know."
John
shrugged.
It
wasn't
important.
He'd
track
Rodney
down
somewhere
in the
city. He
shook
Carson's
hand,
and then
pulled
him into
a big
bear
hug.
"Sorry
for, you
know,
being a
crappy
patient,"
he said.
"Och,
I'm used
to it.
Between
you and
your
wayward
sub I'm
surprised
my hair
hasn't
turned
white,"
Carson
replied,
grinning
at him.
"Off you
go,
John,
and
remember
to take
it
easy…oh
what am
I
saying?
I'm just
wasting
my
breath."
John
laughed
out loud
and
slapped
Carson's
arm.
"I'll be
fine,
doc."
He
walked
back to
his
quarters,
taking
with him
the
little
bunch of
cards
and
gifts
from
wellwishers
that
he'd
accumulated
in the
infirmary.
He'd
drop
them off
first
and then
go track
Rodney
down. He
opened
the door
to his
quarters,
stepped
inside,
and then
stopped
short.
He
backed
out of
the door
just to
check
these
were his
quarters,
and he
hadn't
somehow
come to
the
wrong
room,
but no.
He
stepped
back
inside.
The room
was
completely
empty.
There
was
nothing
here –
no book
on the
nightstand,
no
Johnny
Cash
poster
on the
wall, no
clothes
in his
closet.
There
was a
note
though,
in
Rodney's
untidy
scrawl,
lying on
the bed.
"Come
home.
R."
"Idiot,"
John
grinned.
He threw
the
cards
and
gifts
down on
the bed,
grabbed
the note
and
stuffed
it into
his
pocket,
and then
he ran
out of
the door
and down
the
hallway
towards
Rodney's
room.
Trust
Rodney.
Only he
could be
so
stubborn
as to
move in
with
John by
making
John
move in
with
him.
Home.
The note
had said
‘home’.
John
hadn't
felt any
place
was home
in
nearly
two
decades
but he
did now.
He
skidded
to a
halt
outside
Rodney's
quarters,
then
reached
out and
put his
hand on
the
lock. In
all the
time
they'd
been
together,
Rodney
had
never
re-programmed
the door
to allow
John
automatic
entry.
Which
wasn't
to say
that
John
couldn't
gain
access
if he
wanted
to –
Atlantis
opened
all her
doors to
him upon
demand –
but
Rodney
had
never
made it
easy for
him.
This
time the
door
opened
smoothly,
and he
stepped
inside.
Rodney
turned
around
from
where he
was
shoving
some
underwear
into a
drawer,
and
straightened
up,
looking
slightly
panicked.
John
paused,
and
gazed
around
the
room. It
was
tidier
than
usual –
although
he was
guessing
it
wouldn't
stay
that
way.
His
Johnny
Cash
poster
was on
one
wall,
opposite
Rodney's
many
framed
diplomas
and
degree
certificates.
His copy
of
War and
Peace
was on
one
nightstand,
along
with the
framed
photograph
of his
parents.
On the
other
nightstand
was a
framed
picture
of
Rodney's
cat, an
open
laptop
showing
a
bewildering
table of
calculations,
and,
more
promisingly,
a tube
of
lubricant.
"Welcome
home,"
Rodney
said
quietly.
John
just
stared.
"Um…I
hope
this is
okay? I
mean, I
could
have
moved
into
your
quarters
but
frankly
they
aren't
as nice
as these
and
besides
I'm kind
of
attached
to this
room.
Also,
you have
less
stuff
than me,
or maybe
it just
looks
that way
because
you keep
it all
in
drawers.
I don't
know.
Anyway,
I've put
all your
stuff
away in
the
closet.
You'll
probably
want to
re-arrange
it all
because
you're
anally
retentive
that
way. It
must be
something
to do
with how
the
military
mind
works. I
have no
idea why
I'm even
with
you. I
swore
I'd
never
get
involved
with
anyone
from the
military
ever
again
but you
wore me
down
with
your
sneaky
charm
and
obsession
with
romantic
dates on
beaches
and…."
"Rodney…where
are my
toys?"
John
said,
interrupting
him.
"Uh…well,
they're
under
the bed.
You want
me to
get them
out?"
"Nope. I
just
wanted
to know
where my
gag was
because
I might
need to
use it
sometime
soon,"
John
replied.
"Oh. I
see. I'm
talking
too
much. I
do that
when I'm
nervous.
You know
that.
But you
haven't
said
anything
yet, and
I have
no idea
if
you're
pissed
with me
or not,
and…."
John
decided
to shut
him up
without
resorting
to the
gag by
the
simple
expedient
of
striding
across
the
room,
grabbing
hold of
him,
pulling
him
close,
and
kissing
him hard
on the
mouth.
Rodney
melted
against
him, his
hands
going
around
John's
waist.
John
kissed
him
hungrily,
his
tongue
exploring
Rodney’s
mouth,
his
hands
wandering
down to
Rodney’s
ass and
cupping
it.
It felt
like a
lifetime
since
he’d
last
been
able to
do this,
and he
devoured
Rodney
as if he
was a
feast,
needing
to taste
him.
Rodney’s
lips
were as
soft and
willing
as ever,
and John
kissed
him
several
times,
unable
to let
go. It
was like
that
first
time,
back on
the
beach,
when
they’d
kissed
each
other
for most
of the
day. It
felt
that
intense
- and
that
necessary.
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