Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Here’s the thing:

Rodney is an actual pain in the ass. They’d be hard pressed to find anyone in two galaxies who didn’t agree with that assessment but most of the time, John doesn’t mind. He puts up with all of Rodney’s neuroses with a kind of fond indulgence but there’s really only so much that one man can take, even if that man is John Sheppard, McKay whisperer.

The trek to the Carnean settlement is long and it’s hot and John isn’t feeling charitable the fifty seventh time that Rodney complains about the heat. He snaps at the scientist in a way that he almost never does, even Teyla and Ronon visibly reacting to the sting of his words. Later, once they’re back home and John doesn’t feel like he’s going to sweat to death, he’ll ply Rodney with some chocolate and coffee as an apology, but now, he’s grateful for the silence.

--

The Carneans aren’t quite what John expected.

Most of the planets they trade with are primitive in technology, and the ones more advanced are usually comprised of a bunch of dicks. Teyla had warned that they were a peaceful people, but deeply, deeply religious in regards to their technology, believing them to be gifts from their Gods. She said it as a warning mostly to Rodney, who had horrible manners on even the best of occasions, but was known to abandon all pretense of any sort of civility when it came to shiny, new ancients toys that he could get his hands on.

He promised to behave though, looking a little bitterly in John’s direction, clearly still smarting from the reprimand earlier, but John still won’t let himself feel bad about that when the armpits of his black t-shirt are completely drenched, leaving him to feel sticky and gross and still annoyed.

To his credit, John can tell that Rodney really does try to behave. He questions the Carneans about their energy source almost delicately, even as his handheld is going crazy in his hand, alerting them all to almost ZPM level energy signals coming from just beneath them.

His resolve to be, well, Rodney is slowly starting to break though and even though John warns him twice, voice growing more agitated as the Carneans grow increasingly uncomfortable with Rodney’s line of questioning.

“Rodney,” Teyla interjects, forcing a smile to her face though her eyes never leave their leader, Arrens. “Perhaps it would be best if we—”

“No, no! You don’t understand! This energy source is—” He yelps as Ronon scruffs him, grabbing him by the back of his tac vest to stop him from venturing to the giant pillars before them, the ones that lead down to their most sacred chamber.

“Perhaps we should return to the village,” Arrens says and his voice is even, though clearly laced with barely concealed disdain for the scientist. John’s about to joke that he’ll have to get in line with all of the other people in Pegasus that Rodney has annoyed when Rodney wiggles free of Ronon and starts for the temple entrance.

“McKay!” John snaps again and this time, it’s him who reaches out for Rodney, grabbing him none to gently by the shoulder, squeezing not so hard enough to actually hurt Rodney, but to get his attention. It has its desired effect and John leaves Teyla to offer their profuse apologies as he and Ronon set off for the Jumper, dragging Rodney between them.

---

“What part of sacred temple do you not understand?” John barks, whirling around on the scientist as soon as they’re far enough away from the Carneans. “For someone as smart as you, you have absolutely zero common sense!”

“But the energy source--!”

“I don’t give a crap about the energy source, Rodney! We need their grains, you know that, and instead, you’ve jeopardized this entire mission!”

John’s sure why he’s so angry, but he’s hot, he’s tired, and once again, they’ll have to go back through the Gate empty handed all because Rodney couldn’t control himself for a total of two seconds.

“Sheppard,” Ronon grumbles as Rodney seemingly wilts in front of them, not used to being on the receiving end of John’s Colonel Sheppard wrath and for a second, he feels a little bit like a dick. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth and gestures to the Jumper.

“Get in.”

“Sheppard, I—.”

“I said get in, McKay. We’ll have this discussion later.”

---

They’ve only been back at the Jumper for about fifteen minutes when Teyla comes through the thick foliage and she doesn’t look nearly as put out as John expected. He knows that she’s been counting on those grains for the Athosian settlement too, but she seems in good spirits as they meet her at the ramp of the Jumper.

“I have spoken to Arrens and explained Rodney’s… over excitement away as a bit of religious zeal. They were concerned at first that he might wish to desecrate their sacred temple, but they have been advised that he simply wished to learn more about their practices.”

“That actually worked?” Ronon asks, eyebrow raised.

“It is not uncommon for planets to simply trade knowledge, Ronon,” Teyla admonishes and she turns back to John. “They wish for us to join them for a meal so that we might continue talks of negotiation.”

John glances at Ronon and then back to Teyla, gauging the situation before he finally turns his gaze to Rodney, leveling him with a glare. Rodney holds his hands up, handheld tucked away safely in his vest.

“Best behavior, yes, I know. You’ll not hear a peep from me.”

“I doubt that,” John snorts but he nods. “Alright then. And Rodney, if you so much as look like you’re going to mention that damn energy source, I’ll string you up myself. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

---

The meal goes better than John expects, honestly. While Arrens still maintains a cool demeanor despite Teyla’s best diplomatic attempts to draw him into conversation, his son Atton speaks animatedly with both John and Ronon as Rodney finishes off his third bowl of stew.

John has to cut him off from going back for a fourth as Arrens eyes seem transfixed on the scientist and Rodney’s already offended these people once today. John won’t allow him to do it a second time.

“Lay off, McKay,” he mutters under his breath and Rodney whines like he always does when food’s involved.

“But it’s good. When’s the last time we actually had a decent meal off-world? You think they do doggie-bags here? Maybe we can take it back home and the cooks can figure out how to—”

Ronon elbows him in the side and Rodney doesn’t quite yelp but it’s a near thing and John figures the Carneans have probably had enough of Rodney for one day.

Once again, John leaves Teyla to the niceties while Atton escorts the three men outside and it’s not long at all before Teyla joins them and they set off for the gate again.

---

The walk back to the Jumper is much less miserable than it had been on the way to the settlement, for which John is eternally grateful. The sun is beginning to set, cooling the air and he finds himself much less agitated than he’s been for most of the day.

Even the sound of Rodney gulping his water behind him isn’t enough to annoy him now, whereas earlier it very well might have sent John into a homicidal rage.

“Did that stew leave a weird after taste with anyone?” He asks, and John rolls his eyes at that.

“Nope, but we didn’t eat enough to feed an entire army.”

Rodney huffs at that and tips his canteen up again, frowning when he finds it empty. Teyla wordlessly passes her own to him, squeezing his shoulder gently, affectionately maybe, and John knows that while Rodney annoys the shit out of everyone they’ve ever met, he’s there’s and John isn’t the only one who is indulgently fond of Rodney.

Even when he’s at his most annoying.

---

Their return through the Gate is uneventful. Elizabeth is there to meet them when they arrive and John is feeling charitable enough now that he doesn’t even mention Rodney’s faux pas. He promises to have Teyla fill her in more on the trade agreement she’d been able to broker before he leads his team down to the locker room, Rodney strangely quiet the whole way.

John’s about halfway through removing his gear when he glances over at Rodney, one eyebrow raised to find him sitting on the bench, still in his tac vest and thigh holster. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks, kicking Rodney’s boot gently with his foot to get his attention and Rodney startles, lifting his gaze to meet John’s.

“What? Uh, nothing. Nothing, it’s just… my stomach feels a little…” He gestures vaguely and Ronon laughs behind them, clapping Rodney on the shoulder.

“Must have been that third bowl. One of our commanders back on Sateda had a large appetite, but I think even you could out eat him, McKay.”

“Gee, thanks,” Rodney frowns as John goes back to hanging up his vest, surreptitiously glancing over at the other to find that he does actually look a little green around the gills.

“You wanna go see Beckett?” John offers after a moment.

“No, no. Chewbacca’s probably right,” Rodney says as he unstraps his holster and stands, shrugging off his tac vest. “We all had the same thing, and you’re all fine.”

John just shrugs. It’s not the first time Rodney’s eaten himself to a stomachache and he’s pretty sure it won’t be the last.

“Alright,” he says, clapping Rodney on the shoulder, a little more gently than he’d been earlier in the day. “If anything changes though…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”

“Alright. Debriefing in an hour. I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah,” Rodney agrees. “See you.”

John does not actually see Rodney later.

At least not while he’s conscious.

---

It happens really fast.

Rodney doesn’t actually show up for the debriefing but that in and of itself is not really weird; he’s skipped more than one debriefing over the last few years, but there’s something gnawing uncomfortably in his gut anyway.

They finish up and by the time they’re done, John thinks he’s probably just being a paranoid asshole, but he taps his comm, needing Rodney to confirm he’s good.

“Sheppard to McKay, come in.”

Silence.

“Sheppard to McKay, Rodney, respond.”

John glances over at Ronon and Teyla who have both been standing by, Teyla looking as worried as John feels and Ronon… well, Ronon looks pissed off, but John knows that that’s Ronon’s default when it comes to concern.

“Sheppard to Zelenka, come in.”

This time, his radio crackles immediately in his ear.

“Zelenka here, go ahead Colonel.”

“Hey Dr. Z, is Rodney down there?” John waits impatiently, but even before Radek answers, John already knows.

“No Colonel, he is not here.”

“I will check the infirmary,” Teyla says, squeezing John’s wrist. “Ronon, the mess. John, perhaps you should check his quarters. If Rodney was not feeling well, it’s likely he is in one of these three places.”

“Yeah,” John nods. “Yeah, you’re right, okay. As soon as you find him, radio in.”

They disperse quickly and John doesn’t mean to, but the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach twists and he realizes that at some point, he’d started to jog to the transporter to take him as close Rodney’s room as possible.

“Sheppard to McKay,” he says again, a little breathless as he steps out of the transporter, “Rodney, I swear to God, you better be alright or I’ll kick your ass.” Even the threat of bodily violence doesn’t raise him and by the time John skids to a halt in front of Rodney’s door, he’s expecting the worst.

He pounds on the door once, giving Rodney the chance to open it, but when he hears nothing inside, he palms the door open to find Rodney face down on the floor, lying in a puddle of his own vomit.

“No. No, no, no.” John closes the distance between them, calling for a medical team with barely concealed fear in his voice as he drops down to his knees, rolling Rodney over onto his side as he presses two fingers to the side of his neck. He can feel a pulse there but it’s rapid and thready.

“Rodney, c’mon buddy. You gotta wake up, hey, hey, c’mon. Wake up, Rodney.” He’s babbling, he knows that, but he doesn’t know what else to do until he hears the sound of the medical team in the hallway, sprinting toward them, Teyla and Ronon both hot on their heels.

“What happened?” Beckett barks as they spill into the room and John drops back on his ass, away from Rodney so that they can work.

“I don’t… I don’t know, we just got back and he said he had a stomachache but he was fine and he--.”

Ronon hefts John back to his feet, as Beckett assess the situation, calling down to the infirmary to warn them of their imminent arrival as Rodney’s lifted onto the gurney, his body sickeningly limp.

“Did he ingest anything off world?” He calls over his shoulder, expecting them to follow, and they do, Ronon forcing John to keep moving. “Colonel!” Carson snaps when John doesn’t immediately answer as one of the nurses places the ambu bag over Rodney’s face.

“We took part in a meal with the Carneans, but we were all served the same food,” Teyla answers for John when it becomes clear that he won’t, or rather, can’t. John can’t tear his eyes away from Rodney as his chest rises and falls only because of the bag forcing air into his lungs.

“Blood pressure’s dropping!” Simpson announces as the doors to the infirmary open and the last thing they hear is Beckett cursing as the doors close in their faces.

---

He should’ve forced him down to the infirmary. The moment Rodney gave any indication that something was off, John should’ve marched him down here himself, but Rodney had been a pain in the ass all day and--

John had figured he’d deserved a bit of a stomachache for as much trouble as he’d almost caused and if Rodney wasn’t okay, John would--.

John had no fucking idea what he’d do.

They’re sitting outside of the infirmary, John’s leg bouncing nervously, head cradled in his hands with Teyla and Ronon flanking him. Others had come when word began to spread, Elizabeth and Radek, even Lorne, posted near the door. It’s unsettlingly quiet, only the muffled sounds spilling through the doors to be heard.

Their vigil seems to stretch on forever. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into--. Honestly, John has no idea how long they’ve been here. Time has no meaning in this moment and while it feels like it’s been days, after what in reality was only thirty minutes, Beckett steps out, looking more grim than John thinks he’s ever seen him, including the time that John turned into a bug.

“We don’t have much time,” he says, glancing to Elizabeth. “I need permission to move him down to the Stasis pods. His condition is rapidly deteriorating and without an antidote on hand--.”

“Antidote?” Ronon interrupts, hand clenched into a fist at his side. “Are you saying McKay was poisoned?”

“Aye,” Beckett answers shortly. “Elizabeth, his organs have already begun to shut down at an alarmingly rapid pace. If we delay this--.”

“Go,” Elizabeth says at once and Carson is gone before there’s a chance to ask anything further.

John doesn’t need to know anything else though. He stands, nodding at Ronon and Teyla to go gear up and without a single word, the two turn, reading his body language clearly enough. John will be right behind them, but first he needs to make sure Rodney gets to where he’s going.

The doors open again, the medical team moving at a quick pace, but John keeps up with them easily, coming to a stop only once they reach the stasis chamber.

Rodney is sickeningly gray now and if John didn’t know better, he’d think he was already gone. He reaches for the other’s hand as Beckett and one of the nurses ready the pod and he squeezes Rodney’s fingers as he leans in close to his ear, willing Rodney to hear him.

“I will fix this,” he vows, lips brushing the outer shell of Rodney’s ear. “I will burn that entire fucking planet down if I have to, but I promise you, I will fix it. Hang on, Rodney. Please.”

“Colonel,” Beckett says, shouldering John bodily out of the way. “Get a move on, son. The stasis pod will keep his organs from shutting down any further, but I need that antidote if there’s any hope of bringin’ him back from this.”

John does not need to be told again.

---

Arrens is prepared for their return. There is a group of armed men waiting at the gate, Arrens standing unapologetically behind them. John wants to blow them all to pieces as soon as the Jumper clears the event horizon but Teyla reminds him as calmly as possible that doing so will make it impossible for them to find the antidote.

Instead, he touches the Jumper down and they’re out, weapons raised.

“You come to our village,” Arrens booms, “attempt to desecrate our temple and return to turn your weapons upon us?”

“Give us the antidote and we will leave, never to return again!” Teyla responds, neither John nor Ronon moving to lower their weapons. “We did not intend to offend your Gods; Doctor McKay had no malicious intentions.”

Arren is not moved, however, but there’s another, Atton, who steps forward, maybe to act as a liaison for his people, but it’s all John needs to move.

It happens so quickly, that none of the Careans have an opportunity to fire as John grabs the boy, arm around his neck as Atton struggles, hands up in surrender.

“Please, Colonel Sheppard--.”

“Nothin’ personal, kid,” but John’s not leaving here without that antidote. “You have five seconds to give us what we’ve come for. Do not make me ask again.”

“My… my bag,” Atton struggles, but John does not hear him as his grip tightens around his throat.

“Release him at once!” Arrens bellows, and he steps forward, as if to charge them but Ronon aims his weapon, finger on the trigger and the man stops.

“Arrens, please,” Teyla tries, “there need not be bloodshed between our two peoples! Gives us the antidote!”

Atton hits John’s wrist, struggling against him, blunt nails digging into skin and he tries again. “B… a…”

And then John spots it, the tiny vial that’s tumbled from the bag dropped by the boy when John grabbed him. “Ronon!”

The Satedan surges forward, grabbing it at the same time John releases Atton, who falls to his knees, gasping for air.

“If he dies,” John snarls, aiming his side arm at the leader of the Careans, almost begging the man to give him a reason,“there is no place in this galaxy that you will be able to hide.”

“John,” Teyla pleads urgently, trying to usher him back towards the Jumper. “We must go. Rodney is in great need.”

And it’s that reminder that snaps John out of it as he backs into the Jumper, Ronon already dialing.

---

Even with the antidote, they have no way of knowing if Rodney’s going to make it. The damage to his insides was extensive; his kidneys had shut down completely and Carson warns that if he wakes up, there very well could be weeks, if not months of dialysis treatments.

They still have no way of knowing if there was any damage to his nervous system, and they won’t know until he wakes up.

Carson speaks in hypotheticals, using if instead of when and John finds that every time he does, he wants to scream.

If he’d been less pissed at Rodney, if he’d paid a little bit more attention, he could’ve caught this. The increased thirst, back on the planet, that could’ve been their first sign that something was wrong and they could’ve--

He should’ve--.
Whether Rodney wakes up or not, John knows that he’ll never forgive himself for this one.
---

In the end, Rodney does wake up. He does so quietly, without fanfare, alerting at first only John when Rodney squeezes his fingers gently where they’re linked through his own.

He sits up from where his head had been pillowed on the bed at Rodney’s hip and for a moment, when he sees those blue eyes staring back at him, he can’t quite breathe.

“John,” Rodney rasps, voice hoarse, a bit pained. “Where… what…?”

“Hey buddy,” John greets, leaning back in his chair for a split second to signal to Marie before his gaze flickers back to Rodney’s ashen face. “You’re okay. You’re in the infirmary. You’ve been here for a couple of days.”

A couple of days which felt uncomfortably like an eternity.

Rodney’s eyes close again and for a second, John thinks maybe he’s slipped back into unconsciousness, which Beckett had previously warned could happen, but then Rodney’s blinking up at him.

“The… the energy source,” he manages. “There was… ‘m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” John says and he scoots forward in his chair and John can hear Beckett approaching, knowing it won’t be long before John’s forced to give up his seat at Rodney’s side while he’s examined. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rodney.” And least nothing that Rodney should be sorry for.

John, on the other hand…

“You’re gonna be okay though. You hear me? You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

Rodney nods and closes his eyes again, clearly exhausted from the short exchange. Beckett steps in and John starts to pull back, to let the other work, but Rodney grips his fingers again.

“Stay,” he rasps and John glances at Beckett who gives a barely there nod.

“Alright,” he says, settling back down into his chair. “I’m here, buddy. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise.”

Chapter Text

It’s ten days before Carson deems Rodney “well enough” to return to his quarters. To date, this has been the longest infirmary stay that Rodney’s ever had and truthfully, he should probably stay a bit longer. His kidneys still aren’t functioning as well as they should, which means Carson’s been closely monitoring his water intake and urine output and a whole host of other things that John knows Rodney is embarrassed about.

He’s also not entirely steady on his feet, courtesy of the muscle spams that wrack his calves and his thighs, bad enough sometimes to nearly bring him to tears.

It’s ten days before John, Carson and Elizabeth have a very real, very difficult conversation about what a prolonged stay in the infirmary will likely do Rodney mentally, left with nothing really to occupy his time except, well, time to think about just how close he’d come to death.

Carson is reluctant to release him; they haven’t yet gotten him back to solid foods and of course his kidney function is still a concern, but John knows Rodney, knows that he needs to be anywhere but here and he argues his case:

Rodney can come stay in his quarters. His team is grounded for the foreseeable future, courtesy of John who is unwilling to go off-world without his entire team and while he’s offered to temporarily reassign Teyla and Ronon to Lorne, they share his line of thinking.

Rodney can come stay with John, but he has his whole team who’ll be watching out for him, who will bring him for twice daily check ins, if needed, who will monitor any time spent in the lab, who just want Rodney to have some semblance of normalcy during his recovery.

It must be an impassioned speech, because by the time he’s done, Elizabeth nods her consent and John finds for the first time in ten days, it’s a little easier to breath.

---

Rodney, predictably, complains about the arrangement. He’s not keen on having a babysitter and that hurts John’s stunted feelings more than he’d ever admit out loud. But when Carson makes it clear that the only option is an extended stay in the infirmary, he relents pretty easily and all that’s left is to prepare John’s quarters.

Easy peasy.

Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that the room John’s claimed for himself isn’t quite meant for two people. It’s small and while it’s fine for just him, he knows that it’s going to be too cramped, too claustrophobic and so he spends the eleventh day scouting out some of the larger quarters near the East Pier with Teyla, pretending to understand when she makes suggestions based on where the light from the rising sun falls and which room has the best view of the ocean, which she believes will aid in Rodney’s recovery.

He’s never been much into new age bullshit that seems to be pretty common across two galaxies, but he’s willing to shove a couple of crystals up his own ass if it means getting Rodney better.

He enlists Ronon, Lorne and a couple of marines to help move their things. John leaves his own quarters to Wallace, Gregory and Barnes despite how uncomfortable the thought of them seeing his own personal effects makes him, and he takes Rodney’s room with Ronon and Lorne.

Rodney, for his part, has a lot of stuff. It takes the better part of the afternoon to get everything moved over, including Rodney’s deceptively heavy prescription mattress, his four laptops and the whiteboard that he’d swiped from the labs within the first week of their arrival.

John’s stuff, save for his own bed, mostly fits in a couple bags.

By the time they’re finished, he’s tired, shoulders and back aching, reminding him just how fucking old he’s getting, but still, he trudges down to the infirmary, plastering a smile on his face for Rodney as he steps in through the paneled doors.

“Hey buddy,” he greets. “Got us all set up in some new digs. Wait until you see the tub in this one,” he says, nodding as Carson comes over, Rodney’s chart in hand. “He all good to go, Doc?”

“I suppose he’ll have to be, now won’t he?” He asks and there’s a scowl there that John cheerfully ignores. “I expect him back here at 10 and 2, Colonel. A minute late for either appointment and he’s back here, d’you understand?”

“10 and 2, just like a steering wheel. Got it, doc. How about the food situation?”

“Yeah, what he said,” Rodney frowns and John knows from previous experience just how miserable a clear liquid diet can be.

“I’m alright with him startin’ on solids, but take it easy,” Carson warns. “Nothin’ too heavy,” and Rodney waves him off, but despite his lackadaisical nature, John really is taking this seriously, committing everything to memory.

“Got it. We good?”

Carson pauses for a moment before he sighs. “Aye. But not a moment late, Colonel!” He warns as Marie and Simpson come, pushing a wheelchair that Rodney tries to vehemently refuse.

John settles a hand on his shoulder gently. “Hey, hey. C’mon. Easy. It’s a pretty long walk to the pier, alright? Let’s not push it too much on your first day.”

“Traitor,” Rodney mutters under his breath and John actually does smile because it feels a little like it used to before those God damned Carneans.

John steadies the wheelchair while Marie and Simpson maneuver Rodney into it and after what feels like forever, they’re finally on their way.

“You did get my laptops, right?”

“Yes, Rodney.”

“And what about the Athosian soaps from the bathroom? Those were made specially for me by Gita and, and, and the medicinal properties--

“We got ‘em.”

“My mattress?”

“Of course.”

Rodney harrumphs like maybe he’s expecting John to have forgotten something, as if John would ever.

“What about—”

“Your favorite red pen that you use to mark up all those damn physics journals? Yep. Got that too. We grabbed everything, buddy. And if there’s somethin’ you need that we don’t have, just say the word and we’ll make it happen.”

Rodney falls strangely quiet at that.

---

It’s easy to live with Rodney.

Lorne had very nearly pissed himself from laughter when John said so after the first few days and honestly, John took a little offense to that on Rodney’s behalf. Sure, he’s messy and he’s loud and the longer he’s out, the more of his biting sarcasm is returning, but John’s all for it, especially when he considers the alternative.

(And he does consider it, frequently, usually in the dead of night when he wakes up from nightmares of vomit and grey skin, of an antidote recovered too late).

But honestly, save for the fact that John now has to deal with Rodney’s dirty clothes strewn across the room and the stupid whiteboard that takes up the space that John’s surf board should be occupying, not much has changed at all, a testament to just how much time the two of them had spent together even before this.

John follows Carson’s instructions to a T, and okay, maybe that’s a little different too because John’s always been the one to avoid the infirmary at all costs when it comes to his own health and well-being, but he’s not taking a chance with Rodney’s.

He takes him to his appointments and at nights, when the muscle spasms seem to be the worst, John sits with him on that stupidly comfortable bed, kneading the tight muscles in his legs as he tries to distract Rodney with shitty 80s movies and random banter about anything and everything that he thinks will goad Rodney into a tirade that’ll take his mind off of the pain.

He even lets Rodney have four hours a day in the labs, split into two hour segments with an hour break in between. Normalcy. That’s the goal here and Rodney’s always at his best when he’s in his element, berating scientists and defying all laws of physics.

That’s where Rodney is when everything goes to hell.

---

It’s been twenty days since the Carneans. Ten days of the two of them cohabitating, ten days of Rodney slowly working his way back to normal.

He’s been subsisting entirely of power bars and MREs, which, while not entirely healthy has been cleared by Carson if only for the fact that they provide sustenance without being too taxing on Rodney’s still delicate system and John’s just thinking about whether or not he can try to convince Rodney to try something a little more substantial from the mess later that evening when the call comes in over the radio.

“Zelenka to Colonel Sheppard, please respond.”

He sounds harried and John closes the latest mission report from Lorne’s team, already on his feet and moving when he taps his comm. “Sheppard here, go ahead Doc.”

“I need you in Science Lab 3 please. There is a… situation.”

“What do you mean by situation, Radek?”

But when Radek keys up his comm again, John can hear the panicked wheezing in the background and he picks it up to a swift jog.

“I believe Rodney is having a panic attack,” he says. “I have tried to bring him around but nothing is working and I--.”

“I’m on my way. Sheppard out.”

He meets Ronon in the corridor and he doesn’t even have to say a word before the Satedan is altering his own course, following after John.

They can hear it before they even open the door.

Rodney’s on the verge of hyperventilating, the sound of his ragged breaths interspersed with pained moans and Ronon is quick to clear the lab of well meaning scientists who are gaping at the scene while Radek tries to shield Rodney from view as much as possible.

“Hey, hey,” John says soothingly, trying to keep his voice calm despite the way his heart is beating against his ribcage. “I’m here, buddy. Rodney, look at me. Hey, hey,” and he reaches out, finger under Rodney’s chin as he tips his head up, wild blue eyes meeting hazel.

John wants to take Rodney’s hand, but his arms are wrapped around his middle, clutching his stomach so tightly and John glances over at the toppled plate on the floor, shards of glass now mixed with what looks like not-meatloaf.

“Talk to me, Doc,” John calls over his shoulder at Zelenka. “What the hell happened?”

“He was out of power bars, but hungry, so Miko thought perhaps he might be enticed to eat by something from the mess, knowing that this,” he gestures, “was Rodney’s favorite. He managed a couple of bites and everything was fine until… until it was not.”

“Cramps,” Rodney rasps, reaching out to grip John’s wrist painfully. “Cramps. Poison, I—I can’t--.”

“Get Carson down here,” John snarls, voice softening as he turns back to Rodney. “Hey. Listen to me, buddy. Carson told us this could happen, remember? The cramps. That’s why we started light. You’re okay though. I promise, Rodney. You’re okay, I’m right here and I need you to breathe.”

It takes a bit of manhandling but John manages to get Rodney up enough that he can slide behind the other, drawing Rodney back against his chest, taking a couple of deep breaths.

“C’mon, buddy. Breathe with me. You’re alright. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Rodney.”

That’s how Carson finds them a few moments later, Rodney trembling against the other, but thankfully no longer hyperventilating.

“He’s alright,” John says, glancing up at Beckett. “Panic attack when he tried to eat and cramped up.”

“I thought—I thought--.”

John pets through Rodney’s hair gently. “I know. You thought it happened again, but it didn’t, right? We’re gonna go down to the infirmary with Carson though and let him check you over so you can see for yourself.”

“Easy, lad,” Carson says as Ronon comes over to help Rodney to his feet with more care than he’s shown anyone else, guiding him over to the gurney before he tugs John to his feet as well.

“John—” Rodney rasps, the name catching his throat  as the cramps hit again and he curls on his side, swallowing hard against the panic beginning to rise again.

“I’m here,” John reminds him again, moving to take Rodney’s hand. “You’re alright, I promise.”

And he is.

He will be.

John will be sure of that.

---

The panic attacks don’t last long. He still cramps painfully when he eats, but the team is always with him at meal time to help him through it, John always, always eating a third of his food before switching his tray with Rodney’s for him to finish it, confident that there’s no poison.

The effects of what had been done to him still linger, still present often and painfully, and sometimes, John doesn’t think what he’s doing is enough.

That he should be doing more, that he should’ve done more back on that fucking planet to have saved Rodney from this entire ordeal.

But Rodney’s getting better.

John can see that when he goes longer and longer without a muscle spasm, or the first time he pees on his own and calls John in to see how clear it is, proof that his kidneys are finally starting to function normally.

“You know,” Rodney says one night after they’ve pushed their beds close enough together that if they each scoot over to the edge, their shoulders are touching, “it probably won’t be too much longer until we can go back to our own quarters.”

There’s an uncomfortable knot that twists itself up in John’s stomach at that but he swallows against the lump in his throat and says casually, “oh yeah? That’ll be cool. I guess.”

“Yeah,” Rodney says and then he falls silent for a moment, as if waiting for something. Apparently, his impatience has returned full force because he doesn’t even give it a half a second before he’s speaking again. “I mean, unless we just… don’t?”

Okay. That’s unexpected.

“I just… this has been incredibly difficult, Colonel. Uh, John,” he corrects, “and you’ve… I know that this is probably because of some weird, misplaced guilt you’re harboring, because that’s how you are, Lieutenant Colonel Martyr, but… this has been okay… hasn’t it?”

“Rodney, I--.”

“I know I’m difficult. I’m messy and I’ll be going back to keeping weird hours soon enough and, and, and I know I can be annoying, but you’ve put up with that remarkably well and so I just thought--.”

“I don’t want to go back to being alone,” John blurts out and he can feel the tension leaving Rodney’s body beside him.

“Good. Me neither.”

They fall into a comfortable silence then for a moment, the only sounds being their quiet breathing and the sound of the ocean waves through the open window.

(Teyla was definitely right about picking this room.)

“It’s not guilt,” John says after a moment. “I mean, not that I don’t feel guilty, because I should’ve never--.” He clears his throat and stops himself before he goes down that road. “You’re… I dunno. You’re McKay. Rodney. And I… when I found you that day, I thought you were dead,” and he can feel Rodney flinch at that, but he needs to get this out, he thinks. “I thought you’d died and I just… realized that I would’ve gone out of my fucking mind if you had, Rodney. Like, legitimately crazy because you’re… You’re you and I’m--. I’m yours. However you want me. If that means we forget this conversation ever happened and go back to how it was before all of this, I’m okay with that, but I just… I had to tell you because I came really fucking close to never getting another chance to.”

Rodney is quiet, doesn’t say anything but after a moment, John can feel the other’s hand brush against his own before he squeezes two of John’s fingers.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time in all the time we’ve known each other.”

And John laugh out loud at that, an actual laugh, and as he does, he feels that knot inside of him loosen just a bit.

“Which is to say,” Rodney continues, “that I… would very much like to not forget this happened. I… suppose that I’m yours too. Maybe I always have been.”

John doesn’t know where they’ll go from here.

He’s under no delusions that this will be easy, any of it, but when has it ever been? All that matters though is that they have time now to work through it, to figure it out together.

Maybe they’ll fix each other.