Step, Ball, Change

John hesitated outside the door to Rodney's lab. It had been two days since the end of the wraith attack and he'd barely seen Rodney. Every time he had, Rodney had glared at him and then marched off. He had no idea why Rodney was being so pissy with him and he wasn't in any particular hurry to find out.

Steeling himself, John touched the door controls and the door slid open. Rodney was seated at his lab bench, hunched over his laptop. He glanced at John over his shoulder and went right back to whatever it was he was working on. "Go away."

Nope, this wasn't going to be easier than he'd thought. All he wanted to do was get Rodney to sleep. Zelenka had come to him, concerned that Rodney still wasn't sleeping for more than three or four hours a night. John wasn't sure Rodney would listen to him anymore than he had listened to Zelenka, but he had to try. Rodney wasn't just their chief scientist; he was John's friend.

He considered his options. Being conciliatory with a pissy Rodney rarely worked, but then being equally pissy didn't work either. Orders only worked on a panicked Rodney. Sarcasm, though, Rodney liked sarcasm. "I just came to see how your martyr complex was progressing," John said casually.

"My martyr complex." Rodney turned and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "My martyr complex," he repeated. "Mine." His mouth was set in a hard line and the coldness in his tone made John wince. Rodney was definitely pissed.

Reminding Rodney of John's own recent exercise in martyrdom might not have been his best move. "It takes one to know one," he offered, trying to smile.

Rodney snorted and went back to typing.

His eyes on Rodney's curved back, John tried to come up with something to say, some way of reaching Rodney. He wasn't used to Rodney shutting him out. He didn't like it. He decided to try the direct approach. "You need to sleep."

He expected Rodney to argue with him, to point out how badly the city had been damaged, how even with a ZPM their position was still precarious. Rodney didn't say anything like that.

"If it weren't for the Asgard you'd be dead right now instead of bugging me." Rodney's voice was hollow, deadened.

John nodded, even though Rodney hadn't turned around. He did owe his life to the Asgard, who had transported him from the jumper just before it exploded. After a couple of careful steps he was standing by Rodney's lab stool. He placed a hand on Rodney's shoulder and Rodney looked up at him.

Up at him and through him and then away. It was a look John knew. He'd seen it on his father's face and the faces of more COs than he wanted to count, even a girlfriend or two. It was the look that peered into him, saw what there was to see, and then dismissed him. Rodney had never looked at him like that. Never. Not even when they were fighting about Chaya. No matter how much he irritated Rodney or Rodney irritated him there was always something in Rodney's eyes, something that said that Rodney liked him, even if John did watch silly time travel movies.

That something was missing now and its loss sliced into John, made him tighten his fingers on Rodney's shoulder.

"You just took off. You didn't even tell me what you were planning," Rodney said in that same deadened tone, still not looking at him. "'So long, Rodney,' what the hell kind of good-bye is that?"

As much as John had been able to give. "The interface didn't work." John knew he sounded defensive, but he had been doing the right thing, and it had all worked out in the end.

"I know that." Rodney's tone was still flat, still deadened. "You didn't have to get in the jumper."

"Protecting Atlantis is my responsibility."

"Of course."

No one could put as much meaning into those two words as Rodney could and suddenly John got it. He knew this feeling, knew how Rodney felt. He'd felt the same way himself when he was a kid. It was that 'how could you leave me' feeling. It didn't matter how important the mission was or how many lives were at stake, not when you were the one being left behind. "I had to—"

"I know what you had to do."

It had been a stupid thing to say. John had never wanted explanations either. He had wanted an apology, an acknowledgment that he mattered too, that it was hard for his father to leave him. His father had had lots of explanations, but never an apology, or an acknowledgment. He'd just left, for weeks, sometimes months, because he was a soldier and soldiers did important things. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He was. "I'm sorry."

Rodney was still for a moment and then he looked up at John. The something was back and John wondered how he had ever thought that Rodney liked him, because that wasn't like. John wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't like.

"Okay." There was a little warmth in Rodney's tone and John nodded slightly. Rodney resumed looking at the screen.

John stood there, watching him work, feeling the small motions of Rodney's shoulder beneath his hand as he typed, and thinking about the fact that Rodney didn't like him. It had been a long time since someone other than a CO had not liked him, and their not like didn't count. Their not like was really dislike, which wasn't the same thing at all.

"You still need to sleep," he said when he'd been standing there too long.

"I'll sleep later."

"Rodney, we—" John felt Rodney stiffen and stopped. "I," he said it again so Rodney wouldn't miss it, "I need you sane and whole and healthy. Human beings aren't designed to go indefinitely without sleep."

"I sleep."

It was a token protest and John pressed his advantage. "You don't sleep enough and you know it."

Rodney sat up straight on his stool, but John didn't move his hand. "Fine, I'll sleep."

He had let go of the mouse and John covered it with his hand. "Is this all set to save?"

Rodney nodded. "You're damned pushy, you know that?"

"Yup." With three quick clicks John saved Rodney's work, closed the application, and shut down the computer.

Rodney stood and John finally let his hand drop from Rodney's shoulder. Rodney was mere inches away and John noticed for the first time just how big the bags under his eyes had gotten. His skin was pale and he needed a shave. He looked amazingly good for someone who was quite likely only an hour or two away from falling over.

"I should go sleep," Rodney said after few minutes of the two of them standing there, looking at one another.

John sniffed the air. "And take a shower."

"And take a shower." Rodney didn't quite smile, but his voice had that 'you're teasing me' tone that let John know Rodney liked it when John teased him.

There was no way Rodney could get past him to the door and John stepped to the side. "Come find me when you wake up. We can get some breakfast."

"Okay, but you're buying." This time Rodney smiled.

"You like omelets? I know this place that makes great Western omelets. Sprinkle on a little hot sauce…"

Rodney shook his head and walked past John.

Still talking, John followed.