Fic: Aleatoric Life 1/25: Subito Doloroso
Title: Aleatoric Life 1: Subito Doloroso
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett, Dex, Emmagan, Weir, Heightmeyer
Relationships: Beckett/McKay/Sheppard,
Rating: R, though series as a whole is NC-17
Warnings: Mention of non-con, major character whumpage, language.
Spoilers: None this part
Summary: They had rescued him, but they had yet to truly bring him safely home. Part of the Aleatoric Life series.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
Though one may be overpowered,
Two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Ecclesiastes 4:12 (NIV)
~~~
"When we went through the door, we found a dozen men in there, with him tied up," Sheppard reported. "He was being..." His voice died and he shook his head. He'd seen horrors in his life, but somehow he found he couldn't give voice to this one.
Rodney shuddered and drew in a shaky breath. Blood... blood and semen running down thighs... No one met his eyes.
"And so you extracted him," Elizabeth filled the terrible silence.
"Yes," Teyla answered. "While Colonel Sheppard and Ronon and I eliminated the aggressors, Doctor McKay freed him."
Blood soaking into yellow-white cord, turning it crimson. Skin opened and raw from the struggle against the bindings. Rodney's hands curled into fists.
"Killed 'em all," Ronon said. "Brought him home."
"All right," Elizabeth said. "We'll leave any more details for later. I want you all to report to the infirmary to be checked out." Her eyes flickered to the scratches on Rodney's hands and arms. "And then I expect you all to make appointments with Doctor Heightmeyer."
They all stood and filed out, eyes skittering over each other rather than meeting. Elizabeth noted John tentatively pat Rodney's shoulder. The scientist relaxed slightly under the touch.
***
"You two go on ahead," John said. "I need to speak to Rodney a moment."
Teyla turned and nodded, compassion in her eyes. If she hadn't known before, she knew now. Ronon grunted his assent and kept going.
John pulled Rodney into an empty room and slipped his arms around him as soon as the doors slid shut. "Are you going to be okay?"
"We did this to him," Rodney said into John's shirt. "They saw us with him. We broke our rule and now he's... He's lying in his own infirmary after... Oh, God!"
"I know. God, I know. But it's happened and we have to keep it together for him. Can you do that? Rodney?"
"Yeah." Rodney took a shaky breath. "For him."
John tilted his head up and kissed him gently. "Okay. Let's go."
***
Rodney didn't even wince as one of the nurses cleaned out the long, wide scratches on his arms and hands, simply sitting in subdued silence.
"Hello, Rodney," a warm voice said.
He looked up into Kate Heightmeyer's moss-grey eyes and nodded, schooling his expression. "Doctor Heightmeyer." It wasn't often that Heightmeyer took shifts in the infirmary, since psychiatry was her specialty, but at times where the infirmary would otherwise be short-staffed, she stepped in. Seeing her was a punch in the gut, reminding him of just why the infirmary was short a doctor.
She glanced at his chart, then examined his hands and arms. "How did you get the scratches?"
"I don't remember," Rodney answered, looking away.
"Don't remember or don't want to talk about it?"
"Shouldn't you be seeing to Carson?"
"Doctor Castillon is with him," she answered, signing off on his chart. "I want to see you in my office tomorrow morning at ten. We'll discuss things then. If you should feel the need to speak to me earlier, I'll be on-call tonight. Contact me anytime."
"Can I see him?"
"I'm not sure that's a good idea right now."
He dropped his voice. "You know what we are to each other."
She nodded. "I need you to be especially careful and observant with him-- if he flinches away, don't push. He may not want to be touched."
Rodney glanced down at the smear of blood on his shirt where Carson had latched on and buried his face in the fabric for the entire trip back in the Puddle Jumper.
"His mood is likely to be rather volatile," Heightmeyer said, catching the glance. "You're going to have to be sensitive to it."
"Okay. I promise I'll try."
***
John watched Rodney walk into the private room where he guessed Carson was and suppressed a surge of jealousy. He schooled his expression as Dr. Biro signed off on his chart and smiled at him. "You're free to go, Colonel."
"Thanks," he answered, sliding off the table, giving the door to Carson's room one more longing glance before heading out.
Ronon was leaning against the wall just outside the infirmary. "Wanna spar?" he asked.
"Yeah," John answered. "Just be forewarned I'm in an ugly mood."
Ronon grunted. "Wish we could have killed them slower."
***
Carson tensed, his eyes sliding open to identify the one entering his room, then relaxed. "Hullo," he said, his voice rough. One eye was puffy and darkening. His lips were swollen, the lower one split. Both wrists were wrapped in gauze.
"Hi." Rodney sat down in the chair next to the bed and plucked nervously at his trouser legs to keep from reaching out. "How are you?"
"Mostly contusions and some minor lacerations," Carson reported in his doctor voice. "A wee bit of tearing. Broad-spectrum antibiotic, mild sedative."
"Yes, thank you, Doctor Beckett. Now, how are you feeling?"
Carson stared at the ceiling, blue eyes glimmering. "I'll be all right."
"Of course you will be, eventually. That's not what I asked."
"Please, Rodney. I'm tired."
"Carson," Rodney whispered, reaching for him.
Carson flinched away, then realised what he'd done and flung an arm across his eyes. "Sorry."
Rodney tucked his hands between his legs to keep them still. "It's all right. I understand."
"Can I be alone for a while, please?"
"Yeah. Of course." Rodney tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you later."
"Thank you... love." It wasn't an endearment he let himself use in public.
"You just... get better, okay?" Rodney's voice wavered. He turned and walked out, head down, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes.
***
He was a right bastard. Rodney had been trying to help-- to be comforting, supportive, sensitive-- things Rodney McKay wasn't well-known for in the best of times.
His mouth tasted of blood and the latex of the gloves his staff had worn while swabbing his mouth and the bitter tang of semen. He wasn't sure, but he thought one of the men had violated his mouth after having taken his pleasure behind. His stomach heaved.
"Louise!" he yelled, scrabbling for the pink plastic emesis basin.
The nurse dashed in just as he lost the fight with his stomach. Intellectually, he knew the semen he'd been forced to swallow had long since been broken down in his stomach to bits of amino acids and sugars, but still he felt like he was purging his stomach of the filth of the men who had used him.
Louise fluttered for a second, then slipped a hand between his shoulder blades and rubbed, her voice calm and familiar. "It's okay, Carson. Just get it out. Are you feeling better?"
"Mouthwash," he spat, gagging.
"Mouthwash? Okay. I'll be right back."
The stuff she gave him tasted of cinnamon and burned, shooting hot pain through his split lip and the lacerations inside his mouth. He gargled, swirled and spit and then took more. Gargle, swirl, burn, spit. Again. Again. "More."
"That's probably enough, Carson," Louise said.
"More," he demanded. "I need the taste out. It's still there. They're still there."
"Carson, calm down. There can't be any taste left now. It's all in your mind."
"It's not in my mind, it's in my mouth and I'll thank ye not to contradict me."
She set the second basin aside. "Okay, okay, calm down now. Just calm down." Her hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.
His hand shot out, savagely pushing her away, strangely satisfied when she stumbled and fell. "Don't tell me to calm down! I'll not calm down till ye bring me some more goddamned mouthwash like I asked ye for."
"Carson!" a voice barked and he looked up, shock and guilt shooting through him like ice. Kate didn't raise her voice often. "Your pain is no excuse to abuse your staff."
Louise stood, stepping tenderly on her left ankle and wincing slightly. Tears glimmered in her eyes. "Sorry for touching you, Doctor Beckett."
"Sorry," he whispered, starting to reach for the nurse before withdrawing his hand. "I can still taste it." He pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them, arms wrapped around the back of his head and neck. "I can still feel them."
"I know," Heightmeyer said gently. "It'll pass."
Suddenly he couldn't help it as the sobs ripped through him, shaking his body and wrenching in his gut and he hated Kate Heightmeyer and Louise Patterson for being there to see as he lost control.
AN: Subito doloroso is a musical term meaning "suddenly sorrowful"
Next part
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett, Dex, Emmagan, Weir, Heightmeyer
Relationships: Beckett/McKay/Sheppard,
Rating: R, though series as a whole is NC-17
Warnings: Mention of non-con, major character whumpage, language.
Spoilers: None this part
Summary: They had rescued him, but they had yet to truly bring him safely home. Part of the Aleatoric Life series.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
Though one may be overpowered,
Two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Ecclesiastes 4:12 (NIV)
~~~
"When we went through the door, we found a dozen men in there, with him tied up," Sheppard reported. "He was being..." His voice died and he shook his head. He'd seen horrors in his life, but somehow he found he couldn't give voice to this one.
Rodney shuddered and drew in a shaky breath. Blood... blood and semen running down thighs... No one met his eyes.
"And so you extracted him," Elizabeth filled the terrible silence.
"Yes," Teyla answered. "While Colonel Sheppard and Ronon and I eliminated the aggressors, Doctor McKay freed him."
Blood soaking into yellow-white cord, turning it crimson. Skin opened and raw from the struggle against the bindings. Rodney's hands curled into fists.
"Killed 'em all," Ronon said. "Brought him home."
"All right," Elizabeth said. "We'll leave any more details for later. I want you all to report to the infirmary to be checked out." Her eyes flickered to the scratches on Rodney's hands and arms. "And then I expect you all to make appointments with Doctor Heightmeyer."
They all stood and filed out, eyes skittering over each other rather than meeting. Elizabeth noted John tentatively pat Rodney's shoulder. The scientist relaxed slightly under the touch.
***
"You two go on ahead," John said. "I need to speak to Rodney a moment."
Teyla turned and nodded, compassion in her eyes. If she hadn't known before, she knew now. Ronon grunted his assent and kept going.
John pulled Rodney into an empty room and slipped his arms around him as soon as the doors slid shut. "Are you going to be okay?"
"We did this to him," Rodney said into John's shirt. "They saw us with him. We broke our rule and now he's... He's lying in his own infirmary after... Oh, God!"
"I know. God, I know. But it's happened and we have to keep it together for him. Can you do that? Rodney?"
"Yeah." Rodney took a shaky breath. "For him."
John tilted his head up and kissed him gently. "Okay. Let's go."
***
Rodney didn't even wince as one of the nurses cleaned out the long, wide scratches on his arms and hands, simply sitting in subdued silence.
"Hello, Rodney," a warm voice said.
He looked up into Kate Heightmeyer's moss-grey eyes and nodded, schooling his expression. "Doctor Heightmeyer." It wasn't often that Heightmeyer took shifts in the infirmary, since psychiatry was her specialty, but at times where the infirmary would otherwise be short-staffed, she stepped in. Seeing her was a punch in the gut, reminding him of just why the infirmary was short a doctor.
She glanced at his chart, then examined his hands and arms. "How did you get the scratches?"
"I don't remember," Rodney answered, looking away.
"Don't remember or don't want to talk about it?"
"Shouldn't you be seeing to Carson?"
"Doctor Castillon is with him," she answered, signing off on his chart. "I want to see you in my office tomorrow morning at ten. We'll discuss things then. If you should feel the need to speak to me earlier, I'll be on-call tonight. Contact me anytime."
"Can I see him?"
"I'm not sure that's a good idea right now."
He dropped his voice. "You know what we are to each other."
She nodded. "I need you to be especially careful and observant with him-- if he flinches away, don't push. He may not want to be touched."
Rodney glanced down at the smear of blood on his shirt where Carson had latched on and buried his face in the fabric for the entire trip back in the Puddle Jumper.
"His mood is likely to be rather volatile," Heightmeyer said, catching the glance. "You're going to have to be sensitive to it."
"Okay. I promise I'll try."
***
John watched Rodney walk into the private room where he guessed Carson was and suppressed a surge of jealousy. He schooled his expression as Dr. Biro signed off on his chart and smiled at him. "You're free to go, Colonel."
"Thanks," he answered, sliding off the table, giving the door to Carson's room one more longing glance before heading out.
Ronon was leaning against the wall just outside the infirmary. "Wanna spar?" he asked.
"Yeah," John answered. "Just be forewarned I'm in an ugly mood."
Ronon grunted. "Wish we could have killed them slower."
***
Carson tensed, his eyes sliding open to identify the one entering his room, then relaxed. "Hullo," he said, his voice rough. One eye was puffy and darkening. His lips were swollen, the lower one split. Both wrists were wrapped in gauze.
"Hi." Rodney sat down in the chair next to the bed and plucked nervously at his trouser legs to keep from reaching out. "How are you?"
"Mostly contusions and some minor lacerations," Carson reported in his doctor voice. "A wee bit of tearing. Broad-spectrum antibiotic, mild sedative."
"Yes, thank you, Doctor Beckett. Now, how are you feeling?"
Carson stared at the ceiling, blue eyes glimmering. "I'll be all right."
"Of course you will be, eventually. That's not what I asked."
"Please, Rodney. I'm tired."
"Carson," Rodney whispered, reaching for him.
Carson flinched away, then realised what he'd done and flung an arm across his eyes. "Sorry."
Rodney tucked his hands between his legs to keep them still. "It's all right. I understand."
"Can I be alone for a while, please?"
"Yeah. Of course." Rodney tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you later."
"Thank you... love." It wasn't an endearment he let himself use in public.
"You just... get better, okay?" Rodney's voice wavered. He turned and walked out, head down, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes.
***
He was a right bastard. Rodney had been trying to help-- to be comforting, supportive, sensitive-- things Rodney McKay wasn't well-known for in the best of times.
His mouth tasted of blood and the latex of the gloves his staff had worn while swabbing his mouth and the bitter tang of semen. He wasn't sure, but he thought one of the men had violated his mouth after having taken his pleasure behind. His stomach heaved.
"Louise!" he yelled, scrabbling for the pink plastic emesis basin.
The nurse dashed in just as he lost the fight with his stomach. Intellectually, he knew the semen he'd been forced to swallow had long since been broken down in his stomach to bits of amino acids and sugars, but still he felt like he was purging his stomach of the filth of the men who had used him.
Louise fluttered for a second, then slipped a hand between his shoulder blades and rubbed, her voice calm and familiar. "It's okay, Carson. Just get it out. Are you feeling better?"
"Mouthwash," he spat, gagging.
"Mouthwash? Okay. I'll be right back."
The stuff she gave him tasted of cinnamon and burned, shooting hot pain through his split lip and the lacerations inside his mouth. He gargled, swirled and spit and then took more. Gargle, swirl, burn, spit. Again. Again. "More."
"That's probably enough, Carson," Louise said.
"More," he demanded. "I need the taste out. It's still there. They're still there."
"Carson, calm down. There can't be any taste left now. It's all in your mind."
"It's not in my mind, it's in my mouth and I'll thank ye not to contradict me."
She set the second basin aside. "Okay, okay, calm down now. Just calm down." Her hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.
His hand shot out, savagely pushing her away, strangely satisfied when she stumbled and fell. "Don't tell me to calm down! I'll not calm down till ye bring me some more goddamned mouthwash like I asked ye for."
"Carson!" a voice barked and he looked up, shock and guilt shooting through him like ice. Kate didn't raise her voice often. "Your pain is no excuse to abuse your staff."
Louise stood, stepping tenderly on her left ankle and wincing slightly. Tears glimmered in her eyes. "Sorry for touching you, Doctor Beckett."
"Sorry," he whispered, starting to reach for the nurse before withdrawing his hand. "I can still taste it." He pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them, arms wrapped around the back of his head and neck. "I can still feel them."
"I know," Heightmeyer said gently. "It'll pass."
Suddenly he couldn't help it as the sobs ripped through him, shaking his body and wrenching in his gut and he hated Kate Heightmeyer and Louise Patterson for being there to see as he lost control.
AN: Subito doloroso is a musical term meaning "suddenly sorrowful"
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