Fic: Though You Do Anything (No Precious Time Series, 3/28)
Title: Though You Do Anything (No Precious Time Series, 3/28)
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"Captivity is the greatest of all evils that can befall one." - Miguel De Cervantes
Carson frowned at the monitors. John's blood pressure had normalised, but he was still unconscious. He should have come to a bit ago. Was that a bruise on his cheek? How had that happened? Carson leaned over and turned John's head to study the darkened area.
John's eyes fluttered open, confused hazel meeting Carson's. Carson started to lean away, but John's hands came up, pulling him down. Carson opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by John's lips against his own. Carson's thoughts ground to a stop, overwhelmed by the heat of John's mouth, the soft slide of John's tongue, tasting of heat and need and...
"Stop!" Carson gasped, yanking out of John's grasp.
There was an eep and Elizabeth's voice saying, "No, Rodney! Wait!"
Carson spun to see the ward door sliding shut behind a wide-eyed Elizabeth. "It wasn't...! I didn't...!" he spluttered.
"Uh, Doc," John's voice said behind him. Carson turned to see John blinking, looking around the ward like a man emerging from a dream. "Did I just... kiss you?"
He stood torn between the need to find Rodney and his duty to see to John.
"I'll see if I can find Rodney," Elizabeth volunteered.
"Thank you, Elizabeth." He stepped over to John and took a breath. This was going to be an interesting conversation.
***
Elizabeth caught Rodney in the corridor outside the apartment he and Carson shared and called out to him.
He turned, looking flushed. "What?" His voice was sharp.
"I know what it looked like, but John took Carson by surprise. He wasn't kissing John, really."
"Oh, he so was."
She paused, taken aback. "Rodney... You need to give Carson a chance to explain."
"Fine. So where is he to explain?"
"He... he couldn't leave right away. Colonel Sheppard--"
"Needed him. Right."
"Please, Rodney, don't let this--"
"Look, Elizabeth, this isn't any of your business. Just tell Carson I'll be waiting for him at home, okay?" He turned away toward his door.
"Rodney, wait! I..." He gave her an annoyed look. And, really, he was right. This wasn't any of her business. "Okay. Just don't do anything rash."
He rolled his eyes. "Please!"
***
It didn't take very long for John's mind to start aligning the fragments of his past as Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, head of the military on Atlantis, with John the shepherd, slave-prostitute. Memories of pain and pleasure, need, desperation, and terrible grey futility dropped into his consciousness as Carson talked.
"So, we set up this ward," Carson said. "It provides you with a modicum of privacy and--"
"Stop!" John said, his throat constricting painfully at the memories of what had been done to him, what he'd done. "Just tell me, Doc... If you're weaning us off the drugs, why do I still feel so desperate?" He could feel the pain thrumming through him, insistent and sharp, bound up in sexual need so great and so tight that he thought he could never again feel pain without it giving rise to lust.
Carson paused, considering him. "Because it's not the drugs doing this to you, Colonel. There's a virus in your system."
"Can you cure it?"
"I'm trying, Colonel, but it's proving difficult."
The ward smelled of agony and need and sex, but Carson's scent was warm, inviting, spicy, with hints of Rodney clinging to him. It made John want him.
God, I need you, Carson! he'd begged. He covered his face with his hands. "I'm so sorry, Carson."
Carson's hand curled around his arm, warm and electric. "It's all right, John. I know you didn't mean it."
There'd been other doctors, nurses, technicians, guards, Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth, Radek. John had offered, of course, but not like he had with Carson. He'd wanted them, but he'd needed Carson. And Rodney, who'd avoided coming around after John had thrown himself at him...
"Right," he answered, throat tight. "Didn't mean a thing."
***
"Rodney?" Carson called tentatively as he stepped into their apartment, feeling aggrieved and guilty. It wasn't like he'd planned to kiss John. On the other hand, he hadn't exactly been quick to stop it. There was a soft sound in the bedroom and Carson headed that way. "Rodney?"
His lover was sprawled naked across the bed, hard cock jutting out proudly and shining with slick. One finger was idly tracing a nipple, leaving a trail of shimmering wetness there as well.
Carson's jaw went slack and he stood dumbfounded, just staring at the scene laid out before him, the only motion the rising of his cock.
"Well?" asked Rodney eventually.
Carson blinked. "What?"
"Are you going to stand there and gawk or do I get my apology?"
"I'm sorry," Carson said, half apology, half question.
"Oh, you can do better than that." Rodney's voice was low and seductive and Carson's cock went completely hard. He knew this game, though before he'd always been the aggrieved party and not the one apologising.
Carson bowed his head. "What can I do to convince you I'm really sorry?" he asked, repeating Rodney's words from their first big argument, when he had surprised them both by ordering Rodney to kneel and open his mouth. Carson had been angry and aggressive and they'd both been shocked by how arousing it had been.
Rodney made a contemplative humming sound and Carson risked glancing up at him. Rodney's eyes were tracing his body. "Strip. Everything except for, oh, one sock."
Carson shot him an annoyed look. Rodney smirked. He knew how much Carson hated asymmetry, had had to pause in the middle of passion for Carson to shed a sock or free an arm from a sleeve. Silently, Carson obeyed.
Rodney made a little noise of approval and stepped up behind Carson, hands slipping around him as he pressed against Carson's back, his cock hard and slick between Carson's asscheeks. One hand moved up, tracing around Carson's nipples, while the other made its way down, fingers tangling into the dark hair around Carson's cock.
"I'll bet he tasted good," Rodney whispered into his ear. "I could tell you liked what his tongue was doing in your mouth."
"Rodney!" he gasped.
Rodney chuckled. "You expected me to be mad?" His mouth found Carson's shoulder and slowly bit down on the exact spot where Rodney still wore a bandage.
Carson whimpered.
"I suppose I should be, but it was so... damned... hot!" His tongue lapped at the spot, raising goosebumps all over Carson's body. "So instead, I decided I wanted to fuck you..." He bit down harder this time, a tiny jolt of pain and danger speeding Carson breathing and heart rate. "... while you imagine him."
Carson gasped. "We can't!"
"Oh, I know you can. I remember how hard you came thinking about him." His mouth moved up to the side of Carson's neck, gently sucking the soft skin below Carson's ear. "And I'm certainly happy to try." He rolled his hips forward snugging his erection deeper in Carson's crack.
It was wrong-- immoral, unethical-- and it had Carson leaking, wanting, panting. "Rodney!" he groaned, not sure whether it was protest or supplication.
"Get on the bed and get yourself ready for me."
He nodded and walked over to the bed while Rodney grabbed a rolling desk chair and positioned it at the end of the bed to watch. Carson picked up the lube and considered for a moment, then settled kneeling on the bed, ass toward Rodney. He poured some slick out on his fingers, then leaned down, supporting his upper body on one shoulder while he reached down with the other hand. Rodney moaned as he circled his hole with a single finger.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Open yourself up. Pretend it's his fingers inside you."
Carson moaned as he sank two fingers into himself, closing his eyes.
"Yeah, just like that. His fingers pushing into you, stretching you, getting you ready for his cock..."
Carson gasped.
"Mmm! You like that idea? John fucking you in the ass? I'd have to watch, of course, make sure you were okay." The chair creaked in a slow rhythm and Carson knew he was stroking himself. "But for now I'm just watching him fingerfuck you. He'd crook his fingers just so, rubbing your sweet spot."
Carson's fingers curled and he moaned as pleasure shot through him.
"Hmmm... Yeah, that's good. And he'd work his fingers deep, opening you up for him, maybe adding a third..."
Carson did as Rodney suggested, mind lost in the haze of pleasure, the illicit thrill of imagining John doing this.
There was a louder creak and then the bed dipped. "And his cock would be so hard and leaking..."
A hand grabbed Carson's wrist and pulled, so he slipped his fingers out of himself. And then he was being rearranged slightly, legs pulled further apart, and then there was heat between his thighs and a cock pressing in, in, slow and slick and perfect.
"John!" he gasped. "Oh, God!"
Hands gripped his hips, holding him still as his lover pulled out and then surged inward, filling him, again and again.
He would be good, of course, know just the right angle, and this! This was perfect. "Harder," Carson begged.
"Oh, yeah," his lover gasped, practically slamming into him. "Come for John, Carson... Come for him..."
Carson threw his head back, pushed back, deeper, deeper, harder... "Ah, God! John!" His balls drew up, body coiling in tension. A hand curled around his cock, giving it a single stroke while teeth pressed into his shoulder. Carson let out a wordless cry as he felt his whole body spasm.
"Carson! Fuck!"
He almost lost his balance as his lover slammed forward, grinding into him hard and deep and, God!, throbbing inside him, filling him. They hung there in that moment, time suspended, then Carson's arms gave out and his lover followed him down, enveloping him in hot, sweaty, perfect arms.
Breathe! That was the ticket. He gasped as his body trembled and twitched, overwhelmed.
"Oh, God! That was... Wow!" Rodney's lips pressed against the nape of his neck.
It was several long minutes before he could do anything but shake. Finally, Rodney rolled to the side, taking him along, spooning together. Carson pushed back against him, making contented noises.
"You okay?"
"Aye, love. Are you?"
"God, yes!"
"So... I take it I'm forgiven?"
"Hm. For now." Rodney kissed the back of his neck again.
"Bastard!"
"But you love me anyway."
Carson smiled. "Aye. I do."
Rodney gave a sigh of contentment and slipped a leg between Carson's, tangling their bodies, and settled against him until Carson could tell by the even rhythm of his breathing that he was asleep.
***
Rodney accompanied Carson down to the infirmary the next morning to visit Sheppard.
He'd only made one visit to the special ward and that hadn't gone well. There had been those two teenagers in the corner bed he'd had to yell at to get a room and the way everyone had looked at him like he was fresh meat and he'd been unnerved. But "unnerved" didn't begin to cover what he'd felt when Sheppard had started talking dirty to him-- a litany of things he'd like to do to and with Rodney. Rodney had backed away, ready to flee, words tumbling over themselves in his rush to turn the Colonel down. There had been a moment of silence while Sheppard pouted at him and then some little twink came and led the Colonel off to one of the private rooms and Rodney had stood there, knowing that Sheppard was having sex right that moment in the next room.
Sheppard could bed all the half-Ascended alien priestesses he wanted, so long as there was the pretense that she was showing off her etchings or whatever, but this had been a whole new level of wrong, so Rodney had left and never come back.
The ward was different now. The moans weren't coming from a couple of teens making out in the corner, but from half a dozen beds where people lay curled into miserable balls. It still smelled of sweat with the unmistakeable tang of sex underlying it, but the sweat smell wasn't clean anymore. It was full of pain and fear and there were new notes under it-- urine, vomit, blood, and the cloying wintergreen and lemon of cleaning products used too often.
"Don't touch me!" someone yelled.
Rodney turned to see a young man curled on a bed, trembling and white and covered in sweat, a woman at his bedside.
"Please, Prio, let me help you," she begged.
His eyes glistened. "No. No! I won't anymore."
"Aw, crap!" Carson muttered.
Rodney looked to see Carson heading toward the center of the ward. In the middle of the floor was a teenaged boy, lying very still, while another sat next to him speaking quietly while running soothing hands down his back. Carson leaned over to him, quickly checking vitals. "Asan, what's happened?"
"Another attack of weakness. It was just like the others and he's breathing okay, so we didn't call for anyone. Is that okay?"
"Did he fall hard?"
"No. He seemed to know it was coming and just laid down."
Carson nodded. "All right. He seems to be fine, but I'd rather you called."
Asan ducked his head. "I'm sorry." His voice cracked like he was on the verge of tears.
Carson reached out and the boy flinched back. "Shhh. I won't hurt you, son. You're not in any trouble."
The boy gave Carson a wary look.
"I know you're used to helping each other out, but the medical staff needs to know what's going on to help you."
"But you don't help," Asan answered, resentment in his voice. "Our owner helped, when it had been too long, but you won't-- any of you."
Carson gently grasped Asan's shoulder. "That's different, son."
The boy jerked away, glaring at Carson. "Yes, it is. It hurts worse than anything! Don't touch me unless you plan to fuck me." He rolled to his feet and walked away, pausing briefly at a girl's bed to nod toward one of the private rooms. She slipped off her bed and followed him.
Rodney stood and watched the door close, then turned to Carson, seeing him carefully lift the other boy and carry him to a nearby bed. "Do you get that a lot?"
Carson shrugged. "A bit. I can't blame them. They're in pain and they don't see past that very well."
"How much pain?"
The door to one of the private rooms opened and Sheppard stepped out, followed by two men who could almost be twins. His hair was tousled worse than usual and he was still flushed, lips swollen and red. It didn't take a genius to know what he'd been up to. For one brief moment, his eyes met Rodney's and then he looked away, down at his bare feet, and wouldn't look up as he made his way to a bed. "McKay," his voice rasped.
Carson stepped past Rodney, heading to another patient, and he said quietly, so only Rodney could hear, "More than you can imagine."
Rodney looked at Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, his friend, who sat hunched on his bed, a look of embarrassed self-loathing on his face, and wanted to cry.
Next chapter
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"Captivity is the greatest of all evils that can befall one." - Miguel De Cervantes
Carson frowned at the monitors. John's blood pressure had normalised, but he was still unconscious. He should have come to a bit ago. Was that a bruise on his cheek? How had that happened? Carson leaned over and turned John's head to study the darkened area.
John's eyes fluttered open, confused hazel meeting Carson's. Carson started to lean away, but John's hands came up, pulling him down. Carson opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by John's lips against his own. Carson's thoughts ground to a stop, overwhelmed by the heat of John's mouth, the soft slide of John's tongue, tasting of heat and need and...
"Stop!" Carson gasped, yanking out of John's grasp.
There was an eep and Elizabeth's voice saying, "No, Rodney! Wait!"
Carson spun to see the ward door sliding shut behind a wide-eyed Elizabeth. "It wasn't...! I didn't...!" he spluttered.
"Uh, Doc," John's voice said behind him. Carson turned to see John blinking, looking around the ward like a man emerging from a dream. "Did I just... kiss you?"
He stood torn between the need to find Rodney and his duty to see to John.
"I'll see if I can find Rodney," Elizabeth volunteered.
"Thank you, Elizabeth." He stepped over to John and took a breath. This was going to be an interesting conversation.
***
Elizabeth caught Rodney in the corridor outside the apartment he and Carson shared and called out to him.
He turned, looking flushed. "What?" His voice was sharp.
"I know what it looked like, but John took Carson by surprise. He wasn't kissing John, really."
"Oh, he so was."
She paused, taken aback. "Rodney... You need to give Carson a chance to explain."
"Fine. So where is he to explain?"
"He... he couldn't leave right away. Colonel Sheppard--"
"Needed him. Right."
"Please, Rodney, don't let this--"
"Look, Elizabeth, this isn't any of your business. Just tell Carson I'll be waiting for him at home, okay?" He turned away toward his door.
"Rodney, wait! I..." He gave her an annoyed look. And, really, he was right. This wasn't any of her business. "Okay. Just don't do anything rash."
He rolled his eyes. "Please!"
***
It didn't take very long for John's mind to start aligning the fragments of his past as Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, head of the military on Atlantis, with John the shepherd, slave-prostitute. Memories of pain and pleasure, need, desperation, and terrible grey futility dropped into his consciousness as Carson talked.
"So, we set up this ward," Carson said. "It provides you with a modicum of privacy and--"
"Stop!" John said, his throat constricting painfully at the memories of what had been done to him, what he'd done. "Just tell me, Doc... If you're weaning us off the drugs, why do I still feel so desperate?" He could feel the pain thrumming through him, insistent and sharp, bound up in sexual need so great and so tight that he thought he could never again feel pain without it giving rise to lust.
Carson paused, considering him. "Because it's not the drugs doing this to you, Colonel. There's a virus in your system."
"Can you cure it?"
"I'm trying, Colonel, but it's proving difficult."
The ward smelled of agony and need and sex, but Carson's scent was warm, inviting, spicy, with hints of Rodney clinging to him. It made John want him.
God, I need you, Carson! he'd begged. He covered his face with his hands. "I'm so sorry, Carson."
Carson's hand curled around his arm, warm and electric. "It's all right, John. I know you didn't mean it."
There'd been other doctors, nurses, technicians, guards, Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth, Radek. John had offered, of course, but not like he had with Carson. He'd wanted them, but he'd needed Carson. And Rodney, who'd avoided coming around after John had thrown himself at him...
"Right," he answered, throat tight. "Didn't mean a thing."
***
"Rodney?" Carson called tentatively as he stepped into their apartment, feeling aggrieved and guilty. It wasn't like he'd planned to kiss John. On the other hand, he hadn't exactly been quick to stop it. There was a soft sound in the bedroom and Carson headed that way. "Rodney?"
His lover was sprawled naked across the bed, hard cock jutting out proudly and shining with slick. One finger was idly tracing a nipple, leaving a trail of shimmering wetness there as well.
Carson's jaw went slack and he stood dumbfounded, just staring at the scene laid out before him, the only motion the rising of his cock.
"Well?" asked Rodney eventually.
Carson blinked. "What?"
"Are you going to stand there and gawk or do I get my apology?"
"I'm sorry," Carson said, half apology, half question.
"Oh, you can do better than that." Rodney's voice was low and seductive and Carson's cock went completely hard. He knew this game, though before he'd always been the aggrieved party and not the one apologising.
Carson bowed his head. "What can I do to convince you I'm really sorry?" he asked, repeating Rodney's words from their first big argument, when he had surprised them both by ordering Rodney to kneel and open his mouth. Carson had been angry and aggressive and they'd both been shocked by how arousing it had been.
Rodney made a contemplative humming sound and Carson risked glancing up at him. Rodney's eyes were tracing his body. "Strip. Everything except for, oh, one sock."
Carson shot him an annoyed look. Rodney smirked. He knew how much Carson hated asymmetry, had had to pause in the middle of passion for Carson to shed a sock or free an arm from a sleeve. Silently, Carson obeyed.
Rodney made a little noise of approval and stepped up behind Carson, hands slipping around him as he pressed against Carson's back, his cock hard and slick between Carson's asscheeks. One hand moved up, tracing around Carson's nipples, while the other made its way down, fingers tangling into the dark hair around Carson's cock.
"I'll bet he tasted good," Rodney whispered into his ear. "I could tell you liked what his tongue was doing in your mouth."
"Rodney!" he gasped.
Rodney chuckled. "You expected me to be mad?" His mouth found Carson's shoulder and slowly bit down on the exact spot where Rodney still wore a bandage.
Carson whimpered.
"I suppose I should be, but it was so... damned... hot!" His tongue lapped at the spot, raising goosebumps all over Carson's body. "So instead, I decided I wanted to fuck you..." He bit down harder this time, a tiny jolt of pain and danger speeding Carson breathing and heart rate. "... while you imagine him."
Carson gasped. "We can't!"
"Oh, I know you can. I remember how hard you came thinking about him." His mouth moved up to the side of Carson's neck, gently sucking the soft skin below Carson's ear. "And I'm certainly happy to try." He rolled his hips forward snugging his erection deeper in Carson's crack.
It was wrong-- immoral, unethical-- and it had Carson leaking, wanting, panting. "Rodney!" he groaned, not sure whether it was protest or supplication.
"Get on the bed and get yourself ready for me."
He nodded and walked over to the bed while Rodney grabbed a rolling desk chair and positioned it at the end of the bed to watch. Carson picked up the lube and considered for a moment, then settled kneeling on the bed, ass toward Rodney. He poured some slick out on his fingers, then leaned down, supporting his upper body on one shoulder while he reached down with the other hand. Rodney moaned as he circled his hole with a single finger.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Open yourself up. Pretend it's his fingers inside you."
Carson moaned as he sank two fingers into himself, closing his eyes.
"Yeah, just like that. His fingers pushing into you, stretching you, getting you ready for his cock..."
Carson gasped.
"Mmm! You like that idea? John fucking you in the ass? I'd have to watch, of course, make sure you were okay." The chair creaked in a slow rhythm and Carson knew he was stroking himself. "But for now I'm just watching him fingerfuck you. He'd crook his fingers just so, rubbing your sweet spot."
Carson's fingers curled and he moaned as pleasure shot through him.
"Hmmm... Yeah, that's good. And he'd work his fingers deep, opening you up for him, maybe adding a third..."
Carson did as Rodney suggested, mind lost in the haze of pleasure, the illicit thrill of imagining John doing this.
There was a louder creak and then the bed dipped. "And his cock would be so hard and leaking..."
A hand grabbed Carson's wrist and pulled, so he slipped his fingers out of himself. And then he was being rearranged slightly, legs pulled further apart, and then there was heat between his thighs and a cock pressing in, in, slow and slick and perfect.
"John!" he gasped. "Oh, God!"
Hands gripped his hips, holding him still as his lover pulled out and then surged inward, filling him, again and again.
He would be good, of course, know just the right angle, and this! This was perfect. "Harder," Carson begged.
"Oh, yeah," his lover gasped, practically slamming into him. "Come for John, Carson... Come for him..."
Carson threw his head back, pushed back, deeper, deeper, harder... "Ah, God! John!" His balls drew up, body coiling in tension. A hand curled around his cock, giving it a single stroke while teeth pressed into his shoulder. Carson let out a wordless cry as he felt his whole body spasm.
"Carson! Fuck!"
He almost lost his balance as his lover slammed forward, grinding into him hard and deep and, God!, throbbing inside him, filling him. They hung there in that moment, time suspended, then Carson's arms gave out and his lover followed him down, enveloping him in hot, sweaty, perfect arms.
Breathe! That was the ticket. He gasped as his body trembled and twitched, overwhelmed.
"Oh, God! That was... Wow!" Rodney's lips pressed against the nape of his neck.
It was several long minutes before he could do anything but shake. Finally, Rodney rolled to the side, taking him along, spooning together. Carson pushed back against him, making contented noises.
"You okay?"
"Aye, love. Are you?"
"God, yes!"
"So... I take it I'm forgiven?"
"Hm. For now." Rodney kissed the back of his neck again.
"Bastard!"
"But you love me anyway."
Carson smiled. "Aye. I do."
Rodney gave a sigh of contentment and slipped a leg between Carson's, tangling their bodies, and settled against him until Carson could tell by the even rhythm of his breathing that he was asleep.
***
Rodney accompanied Carson down to the infirmary the next morning to visit Sheppard.
He'd only made one visit to the special ward and that hadn't gone well. There had been those two teenagers in the corner bed he'd had to yell at to get a room and the way everyone had looked at him like he was fresh meat and he'd been unnerved. But "unnerved" didn't begin to cover what he'd felt when Sheppard had started talking dirty to him-- a litany of things he'd like to do to and with Rodney. Rodney had backed away, ready to flee, words tumbling over themselves in his rush to turn the Colonel down. There had been a moment of silence while Sheppard pouted at him and then some little twink came and led the Colonel off to one of the private rooms and Rodney had stood there, knowing that Sheppard was having sex right that moment in the next room.
Sheppard could bed all the half-Ascended alien priestesses he wanted, so long as there was the pretense that she was showing off her etchings or whatever, but this had been a whole new level of wrong, so Rodney had left and never come back.
The ward was different now. The moans weren't coming from a couple of teens making out in the corner, but from half a dozen beds where people lay curled into miserable balls. It still smelled of sweat with the unmistakeable tang of sex underlying it, but the sweat smell wasn't clean anymore. It was full of pain and fear and there were new notes under it-- urine, vomit, blood, and the cloying wintergreen and lemon of cleaning products used too often.
"Don't touch me!" someone yelled.
Rodney turned to see a young man curled on a bed, trembling and white and covered in sweat, a woman at his bedside.
"Please, Prio, let me help you," she begged.
His eyes glistened. "No. No! I won't anymore."
"Aw, crap!" Carson muttered.
Rodney looked to see Carson heading toward the center of the ward. In the middle of the floor was a teenaged boy, lying very still, while another sat next to him speaking quietly while running soothing hands down his back. Carson leaned over to him, quickly checking vitals. "Asan, what's happened?"
"Another attack of weakness. It was just like the others and he's breathing okay, so we didn't call for anyone. Is that okay?"
"Did he fall hard?"
"No. He seemed to know it was coming and just laid down."
Carson nodded. "All right. He seems to be fine, but I'd rather you called."
Asan ducked his head. "I'm sorry." His voice cracked like he was on the verge of tears.
Carson reached out and the boy flinched back. "Shhh. I won't hurt you, son. You're not in any trouble."
The boy gave Carson a wary look.
"I know you're used to helping each other out, but the medical staff needs to know what's going on to help you."
"But you don't help," Asan answered, resentment in his voice. "Our owner helped, when it had been too long, but you won't-- any of you."
Carson gently grasped Asan's shoulder. "That's different, son."
The boy jerked away, glaring at Carson. "Yes, it is. It hurts worse than anything! Don't touch me unless you plan to fuck me." He rolled to his feet and walked away, pausing briefly at a girl's bed to nod toward one of the private rooms. She slipped off her bed and followed him.
Rodney stood and watched the door close, then turned to Carson, seeing him carefully lift the other boy and carry him to a nearby bed. "Do you get that a lot?"
Carson shrugged. "A bit. I can't blame them. They're in pain and they don't see past that very well."
"How much pain?"
The door to one of the private rooms opened and Sheppard stepped out, followed by two men who could almost be twins. His hair was tousled worse than usual and he was still flushed, lips swollen and red. It didn't take a genius to know what he'd been up to. For one brief moment, his eyes met Rodney's and then he looked away, down at his bare feet, and wouldn't look up as he made his way to a bed. "McKay," his voice rasped.
Carson stepped past Rodney, heading to another patient, and he said quietly, so only Rodney could hear, "More than you can imagine."
Rodney looked at Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, his friend, who sat hunched on his bed, a look of embarrassed self-loathing on his face, and wanted to cry.
Next chapter