New fic: Back from the Well - Part Three

[xanthefic]

Back from the Well
Part Three
By Xanthe

Warm hands reached for him in the dark and gentle words of comfort were whispered into his ears. John didn't say anything, but his hands fastened even more tightly around Rodney's body while the tears fell. Carson kissed his face, and talked to him, hands softly stroking his arms, and forehead, and hair, calming him. He couldn't hear what Carson was saying because he was crying so hard and he was dimly aware that he'd be ashamed of himself in the morning but he was too tired and hurt too much to care. Somehow it had been easy to keep going through it all when there had been no other option, but now that he was safe, and reunited with the two people he loved most in the world…now all he was able to do was fall apart. He hoped he was at least doing it with good grace and a minimum of fuss. He wore himself out with crying, one arm wrapped around Carson's shoulder as he sobbed furiously into the other man's neck. Behind him he knew from the tense lines of John's body that he felt angry and helpless in the face of the enormity of what had happened to Rodney, but John stayed where he was, his arms holding Rodney tight and keeping him close, constant and unwavering, wrapped around Rodney's thin body.

At some point he stopped crying, more out of exhaustion than anything else, and then he slept again, his face nestled on Carson's shoulder.

When he woke John was gone and Carson was sitting in a chair by the bed, mixing something with a pestle and mortar.

"What are you doing?" Rodney mumbled, glancing over at him.

"I'm having to do things the old way, like my grandmother taught me," Carson told him, turning to him with a smile, and putting the pestle and mortar down. "How are you feeling, Rodney?"

"Like someone hit me with a truck," Rodney replied honestly. He tried to sit up and let out a groan as his entire body protested.

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere just yet, Rodney," Carson told him with a sympathetic smile. "I'll help you to sit and then you can eat. After that I want to examine you and change your dressings." He got up and helped Rodney into a sitting position and then brought him a tray.

"I'm starving," Rodney said, surveying the bread and bowlful of thin soup on the tray. "Is this all there is? I could eat five times this amount."

"Aye, I'm sure you could, but by the look of you it's been months since you had a good meal," Carson told him. "If you eat too much then I can guarantee you'll just bring it straight up again and the point is to start building you up. I've seen to it that it's plain food – if you ate anything rich in your current condition then it might well kill you."

"If you say so," Rodney said dubiously, sticking his spoon into the soup. He felt absolutely famished and harboured a small nugget of resentment towards Carson for not giving him more food. The soup tasted delicious but Rodney barely noticed because he slurped it down so quickly, wiped the bread around the bowl and then stuffed that into his mouth too, desperately needing the sustenance in his aching belly. He demolished the lot in a few seconds, despite Carson's admonishments to go more slowly, and a few seconds later he felt a wave of nausea and brought the whole lot up again. Carson sighed as he held out a bowl for him to vomit into, and Rodney gazed at him over the top of it with a hangdog look.

"Sorry," he muttered when he was done.

"You're the physicist, I'm the doctor," Carson told him. "If I need to know about ZPMs I listen to you and if you need to know about the human body, you listen to me. Yes?" It wasn't really more than an affectionate scolding and Rodney grinned and leaned back on his pillows while Carson went to the door and called for more food. This felt like the old days and that made him feel better than any medicine in the world. Carson came and sat back down on the bed, and took Rodney's good hand in his own.

"Seriously, Rodney. How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry about last night." Rodney ducked his head and felt his cheeks burn.

"Rodney, there's no need for apologies. I'm just sad it took us so long to find you and you had to suffer for so long out there."

"Where are we?" Rodney asked, glancing around. He was in a big, airy room, with light rinula curtains at the window. Outside, the sun was high overhead and he guessed it was past midday. "Did I sleep that long?" he asked, surprised.

"You've been asleep for 17 hours straight," Carson told him. "It was partly the drugs I gave you, and partly your own body needing the rest."

"Where's John?" Rodney asked anxiously. At the back of his mind he couldn't help worrying about John – the colonel's body had been hard and tense last night, and Rodney knew how he hated any kind of emotional fuss. He hoped his tears hadn't been too much of an embarrassment to all concerned.

"He's out working. There's a lot to do," Carson told him. "Everyone's pretty excited that you're here. I told them you won't be fit to see anyone for a wee while, but you've got a long list of visitors for when you feel up to it."

"There are other people from Atlantis here? Carson, what is this place?" Rodney asked in bewilderment.

"I'll tell you when John gets here – he said he'd join us for lunch and judging by what happened to your breakfast you'll be ready for that shortly," Carson said with a grin. "Now, first things first…I want to examine you."

Somehow it had been easier being examined the previous evening, through a drug-filled, exhausted haze, but now that he was reasonably compos mentis Rodney found it harder. Carson gave him more pain medication before unwrapping his bandages but in the bright light of the room, Rodney saw more marks on his body than he had realized were there. Back when he was a slave he'd taken little notice of all the many wounds on his body, but now that he was here, with normal people who looked healthy and weren't covered in sores, cuts and bruises, he realized just how appalling his body looked.

Carson's fingers were as gentle as ever as he checked Rodney over. He seemed pleased by the progress of the wounds on Rodney's back and after washing them down, he applied more ointment and bandaged Rodney's torso again. He left Rodney's hand alone, for which the scientist was grateful, and gently palpated Rodney's abdomen. Rodney winced in pain, and Carson looked up at him.

"It's tender, yes? The lower bowel?" he asked.

"Yeah." Rodney shrugged.

"I noticed some other discomfort last night. I'd like to do an internal examination, Rodney. Are you up to that?" Carson asked. Rodney sighed.

"Carson is it really necessary and does it have to be done by you?" he asked, feeling his cheeks flush slightly. It was one thing to be examined so intimately by your doctor but quite another by your lover, when on another occasion it might be the kind of activity you did for pleasure. But he knew that wasn't really the problem; he just didn't want to face the whole conversation he was sure they were imminently going to have - and he also knew Carson well enough to know he wasn't going to be able to avoid it either. His pride had been shattered enough already and he wasn't sure he could bear to surrender the last remnants of it, not even to Carson.

"Yes it is necessary and yes it does have to be me. Rodney there aren't any other doctors here – there's only me. I've got some of my nursing staff but nobody I'd trust to do this – and I think you'd be more relaxed with me than anyone else in any case – yes?" Carson asked. Rodney gazed sightlessly down at the sheets. "Yes, Rodney?" Carson asked again. The truth was there wasn't anyone else that Rodney would have allowed to touch him so intimately right now, not even John, so Carson was right about that.

"Will it hurt?" Rodney asked at long last. Carson hesitated.

"A little, maybe, depending on the damage, but I'll be very careful. Do you want to tell me what happened first?"

"Not really." Rodney shrugged.

"Rodney." Carson just sat there, waiting.

"I think you've guessed it, Carson. The details don't matter. You know what this planet is like. I was raped, several times. The last time was about 4 days ago," Rodney rapped out, as business-like as possible.

"Did you bleed after any of the rapes?" Carson asked, in a matter-of-fact tone, every inch the professional. Rodney was glad he wasn't making a big emotional deal of this – he didn't think he could have stood that.

"Frequently." Rodney shrugged.

"Did you receive any medical attention?"

"Yeah, right," Rodney snorted. "Because the Karkarans are such a caring, touchy-feely kind of people."

"I'm worried about the tenderness and the fact you vomited up your food earlier. I didn't get you back just to lose you through inefficient doctoring. I really need to do that exam, Rodney," Carson told him firmly.

"Okay. Fine." Rodney rolled over onto his side and hid his face in his arms as Carson bustled around the room, gathering things – Rodney didn't want to know what kind of things. Then he sat back down on the bed and gently did the exam. Rodney was worried about how tense he'd be – now that he had some control over his body and what was done to it, it was hard to allow anyone to do anything invasive, but this was Carson after all, and Rodney willed himself to relax and let him to get on with it. In fact, it hurt much less than Rodney was expecting and Carson was as gentle and thorough as always. When he was done, Rodney rolled back over and gazed at him. "Well?"

Carson nodded, his face guarded, and Rodney guessed it was as difficult for him to treat his lover in this particular circumstance as it was for him to be treated. "There's no internal bleeding at least – I was worried there might be. There are some other minor issues but I think I can take care of them. I can certainly relieve the soreness – I've given you something for that. As for eating – next time you just need to take it much more slowly I think."

Rodney sat and stared at the wall glumly, suddenly feeling completely exhausted and depressed. Which was ridiculous, he told himself, because he was here, and he was safe, and he wasn't back at that god-awful plantation and Carson's careful fingers were a damn sight less painful and intrusive than being thrown down over the side of a well and having your ass invaded by some oaf with a whip; which was why it made no sense at all that he was crying silent tears of soul- destroying sadness. Carson didn't say anything, he just put his arms around Rodney and held him until he was done, stroking his shaking body the whole time, and then he drew back and smiled at him.

"I know something that will make you feel better," he said. He got up, went over to the big oak table at the side of the room and brought back a fresh bowl of water, some soap, a pair of scissors and a sharp knife.

"I'm not following how this will make me feel better," Rodney said.

"I thought I'd shave that beard and trim your hair for you," Carson told him with a laugh.

"You don't like the beard? I thought maybe it was a good look for me." Rodney scratched his hairy chin speculatively.

"When did you last see yourself?" Carson asked carefully.

Rodney remembered a pale, watery reflection gazing back at himself from the bottom of a well.

"Clearly? Not since Atlantis," he said. "Do you have a mirror?"

"I do, but are you sure you want to see?" Carson said.

"That bad, huh?" Rodney chuckled. "I'd like to see the beard before you shave it off, Carson. I've never grown one this long before. I thought maybe I looked distinguished."

"Hmm. Well, you should prepare yourself," Carson said, handing him a small square of glass. Rodney took a deep breath and then raised it and gazed at himself. It took awhile for his eyes to believe what the mirror was showing him; he looked like some crazy street guy, with a long, wild beard, and shaggy, unkempt, matted hair. The beard ended abruptly where his collar had been; that skin had been rubbed bare and was red and chafed. Rodney gazed at his hollow cheekbones, and the gaunt, haggard lines of his jaw, and then glanced up at Carson.

"My beard is kind of ginger," he commented. Carson smiled. "And I don't like the streaks of white. Shit, Carson, I'm no longer surprised you had trouble recognizing me – I'm just surprised John had the slightest inkling it was me beneath all this."

"I wasn't sure at first," a voice at the doorway said, and John entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Sorry, I'm running late – I grabbed something to eat while we were out. How're you doing, Rodney?"

"I'm fine," Rodney said. "Just contemplating my new look. Carson thinks I should lose the beard but hell, it took months to grow!"

"I could just trim it," Carson offered.

"Yuck. Does that mean we have to get beard burn every time we kiss you from now on?" John said and it was such a John comment that Rodney laughed out loud, feeling his spirits lift.

"Nah. You're right. Carson – go ahead," Rodney said, sitting back. John came and sat down in the chair beside the bed, tossing an apple in the air and catching it again. "So how *did* you recognize me, John?" he asked. John grinned.

"It wasn't until you made that smartass comment to that bastard who was selling you," he said. "Up until then it could have gone either way – it sort of looked like you but you were mainly looking at my boots and I really needed to see your eyes. I was just beginning to think I'd take the risk and buy you anyway, just in case by some miracle it was actually you and not just my own hopes misleading me, and then you opened your mouth and pure Rodney McKay spewed forth. What was the phrase – 'a race of priapic technophobes'?"

"Ah, yes…I thought maybe I was going to have my tongue cut out for saying that but I don't think he actually understood that it was an insult – in fact I don't think he understood what I'd said at all," Rodney grinned, as Carson finished cutting the ends off his beard and began lathering his face with the soap.

"You have no idea how pleased I was to hear those familiar snarky tones," John grinned back. "Rodney, we've been looking for you for so long." His voice was strained as he said that and Rodney sensed a whole world of despair in it which took him by surprise. He didn't know why he should be surprised that his lovers had been as worried and concerned about him as he'd been about them, but he was.

"Carson said," Rodney murmured. "You have a new look yourself, I see," he added, changing the subject in case this one led somewhere tearful, glancing at John's long, neatly braided hair.

"Yeah – it helps to convince them I'm one of them if I wear the Karkaran braid," John shrugged. "And Carson really loves braiding it for me in the morning."

"I do not!" Carson protested but the little grin at the corners of his mouth belied that comment. He picked up the sharp knife and began carefully scraping at Rodney's beard.

"Are you going to explain what's happening now? What is this place?" Rodney asked. "And Carson said there were some other people from Atlantis here? Who? How many? And, you know, how the hell?" He screwed up his face and Carson sat back with a sigh.

"Rodney McKay, if I'm going to do this then you'll have to sit still," he admonished.

"I'm sorry. Go on. I'll just sit here. You and John can explain all this to me and I'll try not to ask too many questions."

"That'll be a first," Carson muttered under his breath, returning to his work.

"Okay. I'm sitting still. Tell me," Rodney demanded. John took a bite of his apple, and nodded towards Carson.

"The story starts with him. He's the reason we're all here," he said as he munched. Rodney glanced at Carson, who was flushing.

"Well, that's not exactly true. I just started things off, you're the one who…"

"He's just being his usual modest self – ignore him. This place, our freedom – it's all down to him," John said to Rodney with a roll of his eyes, interrupting Carson. Rodney caught Carson's arm as it came up to shave his beard. He rolled back the white sleeve and found the dark blue-green numbers tattooed on the doctor's wrist, proof that he'd been a slave, just as Rodney had. Then Rodney glanced at John, and he shrugged and slid his black shirt half way up his arm to reveal the tattoo on his own flesh.

"Damn it," Rodney growled. "I really didn't want this to have happened to either of you. I screamed and hollered and kicked up such a fuss when they tried to tattoo me that eventually they had to sit on me so they could write their stinking numbers on my skin."

"They had to knock me out to do it," John said cheerfully.

"While I just offered them my wrist like a good boy," Carson added.

"Go on with the story," Rodney nodded, as Carson busied himself with shaving his beard again.

"Well, I was bought by a local businessman with a sideline in extortion and money lending," John said. "He wasn't exactly Mr. Popular so he wanted some bodyguards to look after him. No freeman would do it – they all hated him too much – so he had to rely on slaves – which isn't the best idea when you have to arm them."

"At least he was too scared of you turning on him to treat you badly," Carson said. "You had food, clothes, water and a warm place to sleep."

"That's true," John nodded.

"So what happened?" Rodney asked, glancing at John's scarred, half-closed eye.

"Oh this?" John reached up and touched it lightly; it clearly didn't cause him any pain. "My owner and I fell out. He wanted me to kill someone who'd welched on a deal and I wouldn't. Had a couple of the other slaves hold me down and tried to blind me in one eye as an object lesson in obedience. Luckily for me, not all the slaves were on his side. We made a fight of it, and he got scared and ran off."

"There was nowhere to go though," Rodney said sullenly. "You were still a slave – only now a slave who'd assaulted a freeman."

"I know. He could have had me killed but he was so tight-fisted that he couldn't bear to stand the loss – he'd paid good money for me after all. So he decided to just sell me on instead, so I could become someone else's problem," John shrugged. "That's where Carson comes in. You tell him your part of this story, Carson," he prompted. Carson finished shaving off Rodney's beard, washed away the last of the soap, patted his face with a towel and then picked up the scissors to start on his hair.

"I was sold to a wealthy businessman. He owned this house," Carson began, as large wads of hair started to fall onto Rodney's shoulders and arms. "He also had terminal cancer."

Rodney looked up in surprise and Carson pushed his head back down reprovingly. "You'll end up with one side longer than the other if you keep doing that. I'm a doctor, not a barber," he groused, and Rodney shared a sideways grin with John. "Anyway, he knew he was dying, but the pain was debilitating and it was a long, slow death. He'd heard that I was a doctor from offworld, and as all the quacks on this planet are just that, quacks, he thought I might be a worthwhile purchase. As it turned out, I was able to make his last few months a lot more comfortable than they would have been otherwise. They don't have good drugs and medicines here like we had back on Atlantis, but I spent hours down the herb market, finding out about what they do have, and I managed to mix him some potions that meant he could go on working – and he loved his work so much that he didn't want to stop. He was working on some big deal, and even though he knew he was dying he still wanted to close the deal. I think he thought he'd have left a worthy legacy if he could just make it happen – he needed to make it happen for his own satisfaction before he died. He didn't have any friends and family, and although I was just a slave, he was good to me. He was an austere man, but he had a fine mind and he'd often sit up into the night talking with me. He was fascinated by my stories about Atlantis. He hated the fact that his people have all these ridiculous laws prohibiting technology – although I think that was more due to the fact that he could see all the wasted business opportunities and it chafed at him." Carson finished cutting and picked up a comb and combed Rodney's hair through. "Well, he secured the deal, and then he was content to just sit back and die. I made him as comfortable as possible and a couple of days before he died he called in his lawyers, and freed me. They said he was crazy, but he was determined and what he was doing was perfectly legal. He left me this house and all his money and there was nobody to contest the will so he got his way. I stayed with him until the end and then I wondered what on earth I was going to do next." Carson got the mirror and handed it to Rodney. "There – you look much more presentable now," he said. Rodney ran his hand over his smooth chin and rubbed it thoughtfully. Now that he had been cleaned up, he could see just how gaunt and pale his face was. His features were pinched from pain and deprivation and there was bruising along his jaw from frequent backhanders, but his eyes were the same as ever – just as Carson had said. They still shone, bright blue and curious, inside his hollow face.

"So what did you do?" he asked Carson, relieved beyond belief that at least none of the things that had happened to him had happened to the doctor. He had never been able to bear thinking about it during his own captivity and he felt a surge of happiness to discover that Carson hadn't been raped, abused, or beaten. It was bad enough that he had the same tattoo etched on his wrist that they all bore, but at least he hadn't suffered as much.

"What could I do? I knew I had to find my people. You all had to be out there somewhere. So I started frequenting the slave markets. I hated leaving any of those poor wretches there, but I couldn't save the entire planet. I'd been looking for a couple of weeks when I stumbled across John. He was my first purchase." Carson took back the mirror from Rodney and placed a fond hand on John's shoulder. "I was so nervous when I bought him – I thought I'd screw it up for sure, that they'd find me out and sell me instead of allowing me to buy."

"He dropped all his money," John supplied with a wink at Rodney.

"Thank you, John," Carson said reprovingly, cuffing the other man lightly on the back of the head.

"I couldn't believe it was him," John grinned at Rodney. "And I sure as hell couldn't believe he owned all this when he brought me back here. Talk about landing on your feet."

"I was lucky," Carson said soberly. "I'm very much aware that others were not so fortunate." His hand squeezed Rodney's shoulder briefly. "Anyway, we decided to use the money to find our people. John started riding out to visit all the slave markets, while I made some house calls as a doctor as an excuse to check out all the slaves who weren't up for sale. If we found one of our people who wasn't for sale, I just asked for them instead of payment for my services. Only a couple of my clients refused, and John took care of them."

"Really? How?" Rodney glanced at John.

"I never wanted to know," Carson grimaced. "But we got back every single one of our people that we found. They all live here – it's a big house, and they're safe here."

"Who do you have?" Rodney asked eagerly. "Do you have Elizabeth?"

"Yes – we found her about a month ago," John told him.

"Is she okay?"

John hesitated and glanced at Carson.

"She was in a better state than you when we brought her in, but she can tell you about it herself. She's top on your list of visitors for when you're receiving them," Carson told him.

"Major Lorne, Teyla, Miller and Ronon are here – they were part of the warrior posse accompanying us when we found you," John said.

"Great. Everyone got to see me looking like a crazy guy," Rodney complained. Carson shook his head.

"They've seen it all before, Rodney," he said softly. "You weren't the first we brought back in this kind of condition. They're just glad to be able to help – and they've been loyal and true to the end. There isn't one of them who hasn't been utterly committed to finding our people. They've ridden for days on end, combed farms and cities, trying to track you all down."

"I know about some other people," Rodney said quietly. "I told you about Radek last night. He's back on the plantation. He told me that Katie Brown is there too. He also told me that Laura Cadman is dead."

Carson took a sharp intake of breath. Rodney explained in a few short words what Radek had told him, and John turned away and slammed his fist angrily into the wall. Rodney flinched and looked up at Carson in surprise. This wasn't typical behaviour from John; the Colonel was usually the most laid-back of them all – it was he who usually calmed them both down if they were upset about something. Carson shook his head and put a finger over his lips and Rodney bit back the enquiry he had been going to make.

"Radek was alive when I left him but he doesn't have long if he doesn't get medical treatment soon," Rodney told them both, talking in a very fast voice. "We should go and get him as soon as we can. I'll show you where the plantation is. I walked all the way to Shalla from there so I know the way."

"You can draw me a map," John told him. "I'll bring you some paper this afternoon."

"No. I'm going with you. I can be more help that way," Rodney argued, because he needed to do this for Radek. He'd formed a bond with the other man during their time on the plantation and he hadn't forgotten the hero-worship he'd seen in Radek's eyes – and he desperately wanted to live up to it.

"I'm not taking you with me. You'll draw me a map," John insisted.

"What, you think just because you bought me that you can tell me what to do as well?" Rodney flared, and then he wished he hadn't said that because the expression in John's eyes wasn't pretty.

"No, but you're not well enough to go and you're more use to us here," John told him through gritted teeth. "Damn - how could I have forgotten how annoying you are?"

"Forgive me for being myself," Rodney snapped. "And what do you mean by being more use to you here? What the hell is there for me to do here – work in the kitchens maybe? Or do some fetching and carrying for Carson?"

"That's enough," Carson said firmly, breaking into the argument. "Rodney, you won't be well enough to ride for a couple of weeks, and it sounds as if Radek can't wait that long. There's no question of you going," he said. Rodney gazed at him in surprise – Carson wasn't known for laying down the law, but on this topic he had made himself very clear – and when Rodney opened his mouth to protest, Carson shot him a look that made him close it again.

"All right," Rodney said sullenly. "I'll draw you a map."

"Good. Thanks," John said, curtly nodding his head, and then suddenly his face creased into a big grin. "Damn, but it's good to have you back, Rodney," he said. "Nobody around here argues with me the way you do. I missed that."

Rodney allowed himself to be mollified by that comment and cast John a furtive grin in return. "When will you go?" he asked.

"Tomorrow. First thing. So I'd better leave you now and go and make sure everyone's packed and ready." John got up and leaned towards Rodney. "Really, it's very good to have you back," he said softly, and then he reached out to put a hand on the bed and kiss Rodney's cheek, but the movement was sudden, and all the talk about the plantation had reminded Rodney of being back there, and he acted purely on instinct as he saw the black clad arm coming towards him and flinched away. John stopped, and drew back, a horrified look on his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I was just spooked," Rodney tried to explain but it was too late. John's eyebrows were drawn into a fierce, angry knot across his brow, and he glanced at Carson over Rodney's head. Carson sighed, and gave an almost imperceptible nod, and John's entire body became taut with fury. He didn't say another word, just stalked out of the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Great," Rodney commented sourly. "So much for doctor/patient confidentiality. Don't think I don't know what that nod meant, Carson."

"We talked about it last night when you were sleeping. Several of our people have been raped, Rodney and John's not stupid; he knew from the condition you were in that there was a fair chance you'd been mistreated in that way too, in addition to all the other abuse," Carson said softly.

"What's happened to him?" Rodney asked miserably, gazing at the door. "I've never seen him like this – he's so angry."

"Yes, he is," Carson said, coming to sit beside Rodney on the bed. "But he isn't angry with you, although sometimes when he flares up like this it feels that way. He's angry with himself. He feels he failed Atlantis, Rodney."

"What? That's ridiculous!" Rodney exclaimed. "They gated in at night. We were sleeping. How the hell was he supposed to know they could even do that?"

"He was assigned to Atlantis to protect us, and the way he sees it, he failed. He feels he should have known about the Karkaran bandits, should have examined the gate defences in more detail, should have had a plan for what to do in the event of that kind of blind attack."

"Nobody could have anticipated what happened that night," Rodney protested. "It wasn't his fault."

"I know that and you know that, but he's blaming himself anyway. He has a hard time of it when he hears what some of our people have gone through, and of course now there's you…and that hurts him more than anything else because he loves you."

"He does?" Rodney didn't know why he was surprised.

"Don't be daft, Rodney," Carson admonished. "You know that."

"Well…it's just we never talked much before all this happened," Rodney sighed.

"But you know we both love you, right?" Carson said.

"Yes," Rodney said in a quiet voice. "Of course I do. Sorry, Carson."

"Then think of it from his viewpoint. Those men burst into our room in the middle of the night and pulled you out of his arms. They stole you away from him and sold you to people who beat you and raped you, and he'll never forgive himself for what they did to you because he loves you and he wasn't able to protect you."

"They hit him over the head with the butt of a gun! He was out cold!" Rodney protested.

"I'm not saying it's logical. I'm just saying that's how he feels," Carson sighed. "He's been like this since I found him. It hasn't always been easy dealing with it. He's still John, and he cares deeply, but sometimes the situation is too much for him and then he needs to let off steam."

"Last night…you said something to him about not getting into a fight," Rodney remembered.

"Aye – he's taken to prowling the streets at night looking for tavern brawls. He's been known to start one just to work off his rage," Carson told him, with a worried frown.

"Really? I mean this is John we're talking about," Rodney said, unable to take it all in.

"He's still John, Rodney, he's just really hurting right now. Don't get me wrong – he's doing a brilliant, tireless job, but maybe that's part of the problem. He's worn out half the time, and he pushes himself too hard and has been getting by on too little sleep for too long. I was hoping that once we found you…" Carson bit on his lip, and then put a hand on Rodney's arm. "We've both missed you very much," he said softly. "I love him and I know he loves me, but there was always a gaping hole in our lives without you. I felt like we were wounded, just limping along, and we need you to make it work. What you said earlier – maybe you were right. We didn't talk. Everything was easier back then and it didn't seem necessary to say anything, or talk about how we felt, but now…maybe now it is. I love you, Rodney. Not a day has passed since we were separated when I haven't thought about you. I've been sick with worry, wondering where you were and what was happening to you."

Rodney stared at Carson, feeling the tears prick behind his eyes again.

"I used to deliberately not think about you," he muttered. "Because I knew I couldn't bear it if they'd done to you what they did to me. I just couldn't take it."

"Well they didn't. I feel as if I got off so lightly compared to some of our people," Carson sighed.

There was a knock at the door and Carson went to open it. Someone handed him a tray of food and he brought it back to Rodney, who sat up eagerly, reaching for it.

"Uh-uh. Not after last time," Carson told him. "This time I'm feeding you myself, and we'll take it slowly."

"I'm not a child, Carson," Rodney bristled.

"No, but you're my patient so I get to be bossy with you," Carson grinned sitting down and picking up the spoon. He fed Rodney slow spoonfuls, and Rodney felt the ache in his stomach gradually ease as the food warmed him. This time the food stayed down and when he'd finished Rodney felt too tired to speak.

"You need to get some more sleep," Carson told him with a fond smile.

"You won't go anywhere while I'm asleep will you?" Rodney asked, feeling stupid for being so needy but anxious all the same.

"No. I'll stay right here. I don't have any other patients needing me at the moment so I'm entirely at your disposal," Carson told him. "Here." He sat down on the bed beside Rodney, put a pillow on his lap, and moved Rodney over so that his head was resting in Carson's lap. Then he gently stroked Rodney's hair until Rodney was lulled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~*~

When he woke it was dark outside, and Carson was sitting at the oak table in front of the fire and - Rodney's heart thudded in his chest – John was there too. They were both eating, talking quietly. He lay there for a moment, just watching them, enjoying the sounds of his lovers' voices – voices he hadn't been sure he'd ever hear again, and then he tuned into what they were saying.

"I've gone through the details with Teyla, Ronon, and Lorne. We'll be leaving first thing in the morning. I'm leaving Miller in charge here to protect the rest of you."

"Make sure you say goodbye to Rodney first. He's freaked out by that little temper display of yours earlier."

"Well I'm sorry about that." John somehow managed to sound both irritable and contrite at one and the same time.

"He's just jumpy right now – and you being angry around him doesn't help. He's had enough of that these past few months as it is."

"I know. I said I'm sorry."

Carson's hand reached out and gently covered John's, and Rodney noticed that John's hand had been freshly bandaged.

"At least going after Radek will give you something to focus on," Carson said wearily. "I'm tired of mending these endlessly bruised knuckles. You will take care, won't you, John? This plantation Rodney describes sounds like the stuff of nightmares."

"I'll be fine – and I will bring Radek back," John said in a determined voice.

"Aye, I have no doubt. I've made up something for him for the journey home. I'll give the instructions to Teyla. Rodney said that Radek is suffering badly from his asthma. I wish I could lay my hands on some Ventolin but I've prepared something that will at least help ease his chest. I've also packed some ointment and flasks of painkillers. If Radek is in the same condition as Rodney then it'll be a hard journey home with him."

"Is Rodney going to be okay?" John asked, and his voice was tight with concern. "I mean, he still sounds like the same old Rodney but…he's so damn thin. I'm almost frightened to touch him. Last night when I put my arms around him I thought his ribs would break if I held him too tight."

"He'll be fine. He just needs time," Carson said softly.

"And how soon before we can get him to…" John paused and bit on his lip.

"Not yet. He's too weak at the moment. Give him a few days. Maybe by the time you get back then we can tell him about it, but not until then. I don't want him fretting and you know what his mind is like once it's engaged. It'll distract him from his recovery."

"He's our best hope, Carson," John said bleakly, and Rodney wondered what the hell they were talking about.

"I know. All the more reason not to push him before he's ready," Carson replied. "I'll not have him carrying the burden of all these people while he's still so sick."

"His back…will he be scarred for life?" John asked.

"Aye," Carson replied with a tiny shrug of his shoulders. "Now don't go getting angry again, John," he warned as John threw his napkin onto the table with a muttered curse.

Rodney jumped, unable to stop the reflexive reaction to John's muted outburst, and both the men turned to look at him. Rodney sought out John's gaze anxiously and was relieved to find the other man smiling at him.

"Hey – we saved you some dinner. Apparently we have to feed you really slowly or you throw up," John said.

"Aye – very slowly. I'll let you feed him this evening," Carson said, getting up. "I was thinking, Rodney – would you like to take a bath? I wouldn't normally recommend it with your injuries but I think you'd feel better if you were really clean and I've got some oil that will help your skin heal – I could add that to the water."

Rodney glanced down at his body. Carson had washed him on the bed a couple of times but that hadn't been enough to remove months of sweat and grime and he liked the idea of a bath so he nodded eagerly. Carson disappeared and John came over and fed him some more soup and bread, and neither of them spoke. It felt good just being alone with the colonel again, especially as John seemed to be calmer now than he had been earlier.

"How did you learn that Karkaran accent you used yesterday?" Rodney asked, after he'd been fed. "I had no idea it was you back at the slave market. You sounded completely different."

John shrugged. "It seemed a useful thing to acquire. They don't argue with me so much if I sound like a belligerent, high-caste warrior, although that damn slaver I bought you from kept trying to convince me you weren't worth the sale. I was running out of reasons to buy you and thought I'd have to get tough with him if it went on any longer."

"You mean that wasn't you being tough?" Rodney asked, with a grin. "You seemed scary enough to me."

"Oh I can be much more scary than that, believe me," John said, and there was something about his tone that sent a shiver up Rodney's spine. "Here – I've brought you some paper so you can draw that map." John got up and handed the paper to Rodney.

"Ah – slight problem." Rodney surveyed his damaged right hand.

"Use your left – and tell me everything I need to know as you go along. Any landmarks, how the plantation is laid out, where Radek sleeps, how many overseers there are, what weapons they carry, what the daily routine is – everything. We'll get Katie as well if we can – but we might need to make a separate trip for her if Radek is in as bad a way as you say."

Rodney spent the next hour or so going through everything John wanted to know in some detail and then Carson returned and he and John helped Rodney out of the bed, and guided his unsteady legs out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards another room.

"Wait 'til you see this, Rodney," John grinned as they entered the room at the end of the hallway. Rodney had been expecting a tin tub in the centre of a bare room, but instead he found a massive recessed pool of water, with dozens of tiny, lit candles around the perimeter.

"Is this a bath?" Rodney gaped. "It's more like a small swimming pool!"

"Well, Carson is a very wealthy man," John replied with a grin. "And I'm guessing his former owner really liked bathing!"

The pool was full of warm water that smelled partly scented and partly medicinal, and now Rodney knew why it had taken Carson so long to prepare it – he had no idea how many kettles of water must have been boiled to provide the hot water but he was guessing it was a significant amount. He knew from his weeks in the kitchens just how long it took to get those big pans boiling over an open fire.

"Who does all the work?" he asked Carson, as they helped him to the side of the bath.

"We all do," Carson replied. "Those of us who aren't searching for our people or tending to the sick anyway. We have a kitchen rota and as for the bath – we don't fill it very often because it takes so long, but whenever we bring someone back they get the scented bath. It's kind of a welcome home gift." He gave a little smile, and Rodney guessed that had been his idea. It sounded very like the kind of thoughtful thing that would only have occurred to Carson Beckett. "When it isn't a special occasion we usually just wash out by the well," Carson added, and Rodney felt himself stiffen.

"Okay?" John asked anxiously, as Rodney's step faltered.

"Fine," Rodney said stiffly, allowing them to seat him on the edge of the bath. "Thank them for me – the guys who boiled all this water. I know what a total pain in the ass that must have been."

He watched as John stripped off his black rinulan clothes and laid them on a bench at the side of the room and then swiped his hand through his braided hair to release the long, dark locks. Finally, John stepped into the bath and held up his hands to help Rodney in beside him. Carson helped Rodney out of the thin robe he was wearing and removed all his bandages save for those on his broken fingers, and then guided him into John's waiting arms. The water was warm and soothing and it didn't sting as much as Rodney had been expecting when it made contact with his wounded body so Rodney guessed that there was something numbing in the medicinal oil that Carson had put in the bath. He gave a sigh of pleasure as he relaxed into John's arms and John gently held him in the warm water, the back of Rodney's head resting on John's shoulder, John's strong arms wrapped around Rodney's chest. Carson removed his own clothes, slid into the water beside them, and then reached for a pot of oil and poured some into his hands.

"Only the best stuff for you – Carson won't let me use this stuff because it costs so much," John told him, squeezing him lightly.

"The money isn't endless," Carson sniffed. "Especially considering how many people we've brought back here and how many mouths there are to feed."

"See, Carson would actually make a really good Karkaran nobleman," John joked. "He's got these ledgers where he keeps the household accounts and he's always boiling up these weird potions with ingredients he's brought back from the market."

Carson refused to rise to the bait. He warmed the oil in his hands and then gently placed them on Rodney's chest and began soothing it into his skin. Rodney sighed and relaxed. This felt so good. His body had known only deprivation and abuse for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to actually feel warm and fed and loved like this. He closed his eyes and surrendered himself to Carson's loving touch, while John held him, frequently pressing little kisses onto the side of his face. There was nothing sexual about the experience, even though all three of them were naked together. Rodney hoped that one day he'd want to make love to them again but right now it was good just to feel their naked flesh warm against his own, and their loving hands cleaning his body. Carson reached for a washcloth and began rubbing Rodney's body carefully, and months of ingrained grime fell away, revealing his pink skin underneath, although that also had the effect of throwing his many cuts and bruises into stark relief. Rodney gazed down at his shrunken stomach and prominent ribs with regret, barely recognizing himself.

"Hey," John said, turning his face and catching his lips lightly with his own, breaking into his despondent mood. "Why don't I wash your hair?" John suggested when he'd finished kissing him. He handed Rodney over to Carson, who held him while John took handfuls of the warm water and gently trickled it over Rodney's head. Then he poured some of the oil directly from the bottle onto Rodney's wet hair, and slowly, gently, massaged it in. His long fingers caressed Rodney's head, massaging his scalp smoothly, and Rodney zoned out, lost in a haze of pleasure. John's thoughtful face loomed over him, intent as he went about his work, and Carson's loving hands held him up in the water and he felt completely safe and secure under their tender ministrations. John washed the oil from Rodney's hair until it was clean, and then took Rodney back from Carson, pulling him close for another light kiss.

Rodney clung to his shoulders, tracing his fingers over John's wiry, solid body. John had always been lean, but now there was an even more sharply defined six-pack and his muscles had become harder, toughened by the hard life he'd been living. His skin was darker as well, tanned by the hot Karkaran sun that had only burned Rodney's paler flesh, causing it to peel back to its usual pallor again. The dark hair on John's chest was plentiful and Rodney nuzzled against the familiar contours of his body, enjoying the sheer physical sensation of being close to him again. He dipped his head and claimed John's lips with his own, softly, without passion, simply making contact with the lover he had missed so much. He traced his good fingers over John's face, the way he'd traced them over Carson's face the previous evening, finding the familiar patterns of cheekbones and skin, needing to connect with that sense of the beloved again. His fingers paused over John's scarred eye.

"Damn, and you were always the pretty one," Rodney grinned. "Now Carson will have to take over that title."

"You're kind of cute yourself," John told him, kissing him again.

"Yeah, but you were always the really cute one," Rodney said. "I kind of like it though – makes you look wild and sort of depraved."

"That's me. Definitely depraved," John winked. Rodney kissed the scarred flesh, trying to come to terms with the change in his lover.

"Can you see out of it?" he asked.

"Yeah – there's nothing wrong with the eye itself, it's the eyelid and skin down the side."

"If we were back on Atlantis I could make him as good as new in no time," Carson sighed behind them. "It only requires a wee bit of cosmetic work."

"It could have been worse," Rodney said, glad that this was the only scar on his lover, thankful that he didn't have to see the same marks on John's body as were livid in his own flesh. He ran his fingers through John's loose, dark hair, trying to come to terms with that as well.

"You must miss that half an hour you used to spend in front of the mirror every morning rubbing gel in your hair to get it to stick up," he teased, allowing the long, dark, wet hair to float through his fingers. John's face looked different without the familiar, mussed-up peak of hair on top of his head. The smooth, long hair framed his face, giving him a slightly exotic appearance that Rodney liked. John just grinned at the teasing, and caught Rodney's lips in another kiss, a deeper one this time that took his breath away and made him remember just how good it had been, all those months ago on Atlantis, back in a different lifetime.

He could feel Carson behind them, gently caressing Rodney's arms and the back of his neck with his fingers and lips, and Rodney reached out an arm to pull Carson into the embrace. This felt so right, a lover under each arm, the way it always used to be. Only they'd never bathed together like this on Atlantis. They'd fallen into bed, frequently, for plenty of mind-blowing sex, but they'd never done anything like this. Rodney had the feeling that back on Atlantis they would have shied away from anything as simple and heartfelt as this. They would have been embarrassed by their own emotions, and he knew that he would have made some smart remark to deflect his own discomfort, but here, after all that had happened to them, they clung together, simply lost in their joy at being reunited.

Rodney traced the fingers of his good hand over Carson's sturdy, fleshier body. The other man had lost weight, as they all had, and the frequent riding and tougher lifestyle had made his body harder. His chest was as broad ever though, and his shoulders just as solid and reliable, and it felt so good to run his fingers through the hair on Carson's chest and let his lips nuzzle the side of Carson's neck, while John's fingers idly caressed his own neck. He could feel the wet bandage on John's hand as the other man stroked him, and they floated there for a long time, in a tangle of limbs, entwined in each other, warm and content, until the water started to cool and then Carson finally, regretfully, disengaged.

"I don't want you getting cold, Rodney," he said, helping Rodney out of the bath and reaching for a big towel at the side. He wrapped Rodney in it and gently patted him down, stealing kisses here and there as he went.

"I hope you don't do this for all your patients," Rodney murmured, thoroughly enjoying all the attention.

"Only the ones I love - and so very nearly lost," Carson said softly, and Rodney's breath caught in his throat at that, and then John's hand was there, on his shoulder, and another towel was rubbing his hair dry. He felt suddenly exhausted once more and then he was falling. He barely remembered John swinging him up into his arms and carrying him back to his room and putting him to bed. He only woke once in the night and this time he only cried for a little while, and very early in the morning, when it was still dark outside, John kissed him goodbye and he clung to him for a moment, scared to let him go in case he didn't come back, frightened about what might happen to him at the plantation, knowing all too well what kind of a place it was. But Radek was still out there and he needed John more than Rodney did right now, so finally Rodney let him go, and Carson pulled him back into the warm bed and covered them both with the blanket and wrapped his arms around his waist, and Rodney fell asleep once more.

End of Part Three

Friendly feedback always much appreciated!

Back from the Well - Part Four

Comments

[denyce.livejournal.com]

Can't even look at it, have to run 2 work, but will race home to read ;-) yea & think about at least half the day *smooches*

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

LOL! Will still be there when you get home ;-)

[verabell.livejournal.com]

Oh my! I am such a sucker for H/C and you are serving it up so very well written. I can't wait for the next part :)

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

Many thanks!

[misty4me.livejournal.com]

Sigh, I love them together. That was so delightful, the extremes of all their emotion. John's guilt and anger, his tenderness, and Carson's guilt at the life he'd been leading while others were so aboused. Yea! Carson for overcoming his fear and going to the slave markets, getting them started on their way.

I do hope that Radek is still alive, and Katie. And I'm anxious to hear about Elizabeth and what plan they have for taking back Atlantis.

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

Carson is so adorable. Sigh. More on Elizabeth, Radek and Katie, and those plans for taking back Atlantis in the next installment! Thanks for your feedback :-)))

[sgatlantislight.livejournal.com]

Ah, you've cruelly left the fate of Radek up in the air again! But this was beautiful. There was a softness to it that just envelopes the reader.

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

Radek's fate will definitely be sorted out in the next installment - I promise :-) Thanks so much for your feedback!

[lillyjk.livejournal.com]

this is just wonderful...poor Rodney, and while I'm glad that Carson and John didn't have to suffer his same fate it's going to be so hard for them to understand what he's been through. the scene in the bathing pool was just beautiful, and angry!John. please please please let them get Radek back safely.

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much. I agree with you about Carson and John understanding what he's been though. A large part of the rest of the fic will deal with how hard it will be for all of them to get back to normal after such an extreme experience :-)

[starrfire.livejournal.com]

OMFG I love this story, and love you for writing it, I'd love to read more (and will) later today, but for now I have to run. <3

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I hope you enjoy the rest :-)

[starrfire.livejournal.com]

OMG i did. ::gives you cookies and slash:: <3

[jaekayelle.livejournal.com]

Ohhh, poor Rodney. I cried with him. *sniffle* Carson was so tender and kind and the scene in the bath was beautiful. Forgot to say last time: John! Warrior John in black with the long braided hair and the scar! guhhh
*flops over all fangirled out*

This is the first J/R/C fic I've read. You've set the bar pretty high. It will be tough to find any others to match this, and I'm only on chapter three. *g*

[fawkesielady-ed.livejournal.com]

aawwww *sniff* I am addicted to hurt comfort and this is some good quality stuff! Wow... that sniff makes this sound like a drug... well maybe it is :) But the good kind!

Go get Radek John! Bring him back safe and sound! He needs some TLC and a teddy bear!
Running toward part 4 as I type!
I'm loving this story BTW!

[xanthestories.livejournal.com]

I think H/C is a kind of drug! My entire reason for writing this fic was to wallow in it as much as I could *ggg*