Notice Anything?

"I don't-- I don't-- I can't; I don't know," Rodney says plaintively, his face scrunched up in childlike concentration, "I don't even know what it is I don't know. I just, I can't, I can't, can not, not, I don't--It's like I'm--" he waves his hands around his head, "--empty and it's--why don't I know?"

John curses under his breath, again, and grabs Rodney's wrist before he steps off the path. He's heard Rodney scared before, has watched him rant and babble and argue and rave through crisis after crisis, but he's never, never heard this sad, confused whine, never seen the terrifying innocence that now resides behind Rodney's eyes, and he doesn't have time to deal with it properly. He needs to get Rodney off-planet, back to Atlantis so he can get over whatever they drugged him with, so he can be somewhere safe while he regains what was stripped from him.

He holds Rodney by the shoulders, shaking him once and ducking his head to get his attention. "Hey," he says and has to swallow hard when Rodney looks up, eyes wide and fearful and utterly blank. "I know you don't remember, and I know it's scary, but you're doing great. Just, you gotta trust me, okay?"

Rodney blinks, once, and leans toward John just a little. His body remembers, even if he doesn't. "Um, okay?" he whimpers.

John leans closer, almost touching his forehead to Rodney's. "I'm taking you home," John murmurs.

Rodney's smile is open and amazing. "I have a home?"

"You have the best home, Rodney," John says, forcing the words through his constricting throat, "with good friends."

"I have friends?" Rodney asks in a small voice, and John can't help himself breaking, just a little, as he nods once. Rodney glances down, looks up again through his lashes. "Are you my friend?"

"Your best friend, Rodney," John whispers, then wraps him in a hug and presses a kiss to his temple. He shudders with relief when Rodney reaches around to hold him back.

John gives him one more kiss, soft on the lips, hands framing his face, before stepping back a little. He keeps his hold on Rodney's head, looking him square in the eyes. "I'm gonna take care of you, I promise, but right now we really, really need to go."

Rodney nods a little in the cage of John's hands. "We need to go home," he says impatiently and pokes at John's shoulder, and John chuckles with giddy relief because even blanked out the way he is Rodney is still there, still himself.

When John turns to go, Rodney grabs one of his hands.

He holds on all the way home.