The Cracking of the World

...then I did the simplest thing in the world.
I leaned down... and kissed him.
And the world cracked open.
~ Agnes de Mille

John shifted so Carson could finish taping up his ribs, wincing as the pain in his side shifted from dull ache to something a hell of a lot sharper.

Rodney reached out as if to touch John's shoulder, but pulled his hand back at the last minute. He'd been hovering ever since they'd gotten back, as though the long jumper ride home hadn't been enough togetherness.

Usually John got tense whenever other people seemed to need something from him, especially something emotional like support or consolation. He just wasn't good at that stuff-- giving it or getting it. Months of living in Pegasus with death ready to pop out at them any minute hadn't made him any better at it. If anything, he'd gotten worse. Everything was intense here, close to the surface. Even more so with Rodney.

Yet for some reason John found Rodney's anxiety almost comforting, as if Rodney was being anxious for both of them.

Lifting his right arm so Carson could wrap more easily, John considered that thought. Maybe Rodney was his id. Or some sort of lightening rod.

Carson finished with a gentle pat to John's shoulder. He turned away for a moment and then turned back. "Take two of these in about three hours," he said, placing a small bottle in John's hand. "You can have two every four hours, if you need something stronger let me know. And Major, don't be a martyr, if you need pain relief, ask for it."

"Thanks," John said, easing himself from the bed and into a standing position. He reached for his shirt, but Rodney snatched it away.

"I'll do it, but I really don't think you need it. It's not as though the women of Atlantis are going to faint if they see you walking the hallways with a bandage covering half of your chest," Rodney said.

"Here," Carson said, handing Rodney a scrub shirt. "This might be easier to get on."

"Thanks," John said again.

Scrunching up the shirt in his hands, Rodney eased it over John's head. Then he held each sleeve out as far as it would go as John pushed his arm into it with as little wincing as he could manage.

"All set?" Rodney asked.

Clutching his pills, John nodded.

They left together and instead of turning toward his own quarters, Rodney kept pace with John, who was moving a little more slowly than he had on the planet. The exhaustion had caught up with him about half way back from the planet. He was tired and he hadn't showered in what felt like days, but he still let Rodney come along.

The door to his quarters slid open and John went straight to his bed, sitting and bending to untie his boots.

"Here," Rodney said, kneeling in front of him. "Let me."

It felt good to get the damn boots off, although he doubted it was a pleasant experience from Rodney's end.

"It feels like there should be something to say," Rodney said.

"I know." John looked directly into Rodney's eyes for the first time since he'd left Rodney and Gaul to go after the wraith. All he could see was confusion.

"They were... they were good scientists. Both of them."

John nodded, because they wouldn't have been here otherwise.

"I-" Rodney stopped, then stood. "We need to work on my reloading. I need to get faster at it."

"We will," John promised and started undoing his thigh holster to cover for the fact that he didn't know what else to say.

"Right. I should..." Rodney pointed toward the door.

John stood and pushed his pants off.

"Do you need help with your shirt?" Rodney asked.

"I'm just gonna sleep in it."

"Good plan." Stepping past him, Rodney tugged one side of his blankets free from where John had tucked them under the mattress, creating a space for John to slide between the sheets.

Feeling bemused and oddly grateful, John got into bed.

Rodney tucked the blankets around John's shoulders. John thought maybe he got it, this apparent need of Rodney's to take care of someone.

Then Rodney bent down and brushed his lips lightly over John's. "Good-night, Major," Rodney whispered before turning to go.

Rodney turned out the lights on his way out, but even with the painkillers it took John awhile to fall asleep. When he finally did, he it was with the phantom touch of Rodney's lips lingering on his.