This Is What You Want (Rodney/Shep, NC-17)

Title: This Is What You Want
Pairing: Rodney/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing.
Notes: SEQUEL TO No More Lies For ancientlions, because if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have ever even seen the show. Approx: 2010 words.
NotesPT2: There is a companion fic to this story as well, written by ancientlions. It is located here.



Rodney hasn’t been to see him. It’s been three weeks since he started turning, and nearly two since he was cured. Carson won’t let him out of the hospital yet, and, though John won’t admit it, he thinks the doctor is right. He doesn’t feel comfortable being away from the infirmary yet. He has vague memories of things that he did, and everyone has filled him in on the rest. He apologized to Teyla, and she understood, though she’d been treading lightly around him ever since. No one had mentioned Rodney, and when John asked, they changed the subject.

--

He was released a week later. He wandered the halls of a place he thought he’d never see again, and talked and interacted with people he thought he’d lost forever. He trained with Teyla first, to regain his strength and then with Ronan, to increase it. He was eating normally and everything was going as it should. During the day, at least.

--

There were nightmares. Every night, there were nightmares. Subconsciously, he must have remembered everything. He woke up sweating, screaming and aroused, with no explanation. He took cold showers and avoided his own gaze in mirrors. He was pressed with guilt every night, and couldn’t understand why. He understood who though.

--

When he woke up the fourth night, and took his 7th or so cold shower, he remembered something. He remembered his belt and blood and words. Words in his voice, words from his mouth, his thoughts. 5 words.

--

"This is what you want." John walked into Rodney’s room. Rodney was sitting, staring. Not reading, not watching anything, not working. Just sitting. And staring. At John’s words he bowed his head. Not sitting and staring. Sitting and waiting. "I said it to you. I don’t remember why... I can’t..." He broke off and breathed in. "Please, Rodney." Rodney raised his head.

"Don’t worry about it, John." His voice was cold. Far away. Impenetrable. Fragile. John turned and walked away.

--

It was a semblance of normal. Missions taken, planets saved, the world as they knew it now kept turning. But nothing was right. Rodney knew it, John knew it. The team knew it. Teyla tried to talk to Rodney, but he shut her out, told her she’d never understand, and that everything was fine. She knew he was lying, but his finality scared her and she backed off. He lived in silence. John lived in suffering.

--

Another nightmare. More memories. Memories of Rodney on his knees, of a sneer on John’s face, harsh words and harsher touches. Of a horrible start and a worse finish. John woke up sobbing, his breath harsh, his body tense and aching.

--

John wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but his determination to save Rodney’s life while he was under Atlantis was to fulfill a debt he knew he owed. When Rodney was safe, back in his room, John prepared himself. He knew he had to face his nightmares. He knocked on Rodney’s door, and walked in. Rodney looked up and blinked. John sat down, forcing himself to look at Rodney.

"I saved you. Call it a standing truce for whatever battle we’re currently in."

"We aren’t in a battle." Rodney’s voice was small, he was confused. He had wanted this buried and now it was digging up and plunging into his heart and he didn’t know if he’d live through this conversation.

"We are, and I’m going to end it. I saved you, at least talk to me, Rodney." John pleaded, wincing as Rodney shuddered at the mention of his name. Finally, Rodney nodded. John let out a deep breath and then readied himself. "Tell me what happened, Rodney. Please."

Rodney looked away, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again and looked at John, he was detached, and when he spoke, he sounded as if he was giving a progress report for some project he was working on. As John listened, he realized it was a wall, a defense Rodney had put up to keep the memory from killing him.

"I went into your room to make sure you were ok. We spoke, more or less normally, for a few moments. Then something changed. You told me you wanted me, and that I wanted you. You forced yourself on me. I refused to comply. You whipped me, deep enough to require exactly 36 stitches in my back. You made me perform oral sex on you, and then you bent me over a desk and took me from behind. When I passed out from pain and shock, you put me on your bed and raped me again, and ejaculated on my injuries." Rodney kept his voice perfectly level, dead sounding and cold. His face was void of emotion. He was a robot. Or dead inside.

John listened in horror, burying his face in his hands, tears running down his face. He couldn’t believe any of it. But he knew it was true. As Rodney spoke, his nightmares ran through his head, playing out in full Technicolor and surround sound. And he heard those five words.

"This is what you want." He whispered. "I remember. Oh God. Rodney..." He reached out a hand, but Rodney moved away. "I’m so sorry."

"I already told you John," That voice. That voice that spoke of emptiness and death. "Don’t worry about it." Rodney calmly stood up and walked out the door, leaving John to come to grips with what he’d done.

"This is what you want."

--

Rodney was sitting in the cafeteria. He assumed that the presence of people would make him feel like this life was less of a dream. It was Teyla who walked over and sat down next to him. She leaned in and put a hand gently on his arm. He looked up at her and forced a half smile.

"Teyla. How are you?" He asked, not recognizing his own voice.

"I am alright, Rodney. It is you I’m worried about." She looked worried, and her eyes were full of concern.

"Why would you be worried about me?" She tightened her grip on his arm before she responded.

"Rodney, you are crying." Rodney held a hand up to his face and realized that she was right. He was crying, and he hadn’t realized it. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t. Finally he stood, and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring the stares he was being given. Rumors had raged after his encounter with John, and he had learned to more or less block out the attention he was being given. It was no different now.

Except now John knew. And that meant it would have to be faced and Rodney couldn’t run anymore. He’d spent his whole life running. He’d spent his whole life as a coward. And now, against his will, he was being forced to be brave, or die trying. He’d wanted so badly to keep this buried. To let it stay in nightmares and dark places and deep recesses of his mind that he never had to open up. He’d wanted to keep John from it. To keep himself from it. He’d figured that burying it was the only way to keep his heart beating and his body moving. His soul, he’d decided, was a lost cause.

--

It was night. John hated night. The nightmares were more vivid, now that the story had been brought into the light. He remembered it all. He remembered every last detail as it played out in his head and he couldn’t hide from it, no matter what he tried. His conversation with Rodney had forced it front and center and John was now forced to deal with it the only way he knew how. Fix it, before it caused to much damage and killed them all.

--

This time it was Rodney who came to John’s room. He stood, waiting after he knocked. Finally John opened it, and let Rodney enter. He sat on the bed. Rodney stood. He couldn’t sit anywhere. His whole being rejected the idea of being here. The scene of the crime, as it were. He bit his lip and then spoke.

"It hurt." He said. For the first time in weeks, John heard emotion coming through the words. He said nothing, waiting for Rodney to continue. "It hurt physically and emotionally. You hurt my body, John. But you butchered my mind, and my emotions. And I keep telling myself it wasn’t you. That’s the only thing that’s keeping me from breaking down into a shell and nothing else, John. It wasn’t you." He started to cry then, and John stood, slowly moving to place his arms around Rodney. Rodney stiffened, and then slowly forced himself to relax.

"I’m so sorry, Rodney. It wasn’t me. I would never do that." John held Rodney close, willing his words to make everything better. Rodney pulled back and sat on the bed.

"It was this bed. I’ve been having nightmares about this bed for weeks now."

"So have I." John said. "I can remember everything."

"It’s hard on you too."

"Not as bad as it must have been for you."

"No, I think you have it worse, actually. I only had to go through it. You had to do it." Rodney said, and he looked up at John. "I do love you, you know." His voice broke halfway through the last word. John sat next to Rodney and looked at him.

"I love you too, Rodney." John said. Rodney smiled a little and then used his sleeve to wipe some of the tears off his face. He took a deep breath and then lay down on the bed, trying hard to keep his breathing steady and his eyes open.

"Kiss me, John. Erase it all. Start over, make it good." He pleaded. "It’s you, John. This," He placed a hand on John’s cheek as the other man leaned over Rodney. "This is you." John kissed him, and Rodney gasped. John pulled back quickly. "No, no, good gasp, very good." He pulled John into him again, and deepened the kiss, opening his lips and placing a hand on John’s neck as he felt John’s tongue slide into his mouth. He broke the kiss off and then placed a tiny one on John’s nose. John smiled and blushed.

"Rodney...I want..." His eyes pleaded and Rodney’s sparked. Rodney stood and began to remove his clothing. When he was naked he slowly undressed John, letting his fingers tease and stroke John’s body. Both men were fully hard and panting lightly by the time John was naked.

"Make love to me, John." Rodney asked. John slipped his fingers into his mouth and then one by one into Rodney, teasing him and relaxing him until Rodney was begging to be filled. John removed his fingers and slipped a condom on, and then paused, waiting for permission. Rodney touched John’s lips with his fingers and John smiled into Rodney’s hand. "Please, John. I want this. I love you." John began to enter Rodney, going slowly, not wanting to hurt him. He paused again when he was fully inside him, and then began to thrust, watching the Rodney’s face as he did. John kissed Rodney again, this time with passion, hard and edged with teeth. Rodney responded in kind, his fingernails raking down John’s back. John began to thrust harder and soon he was ready to come. He slipped his hand to Rodney’s cock and began stroking it.

"Come with me, Rodney." He said, kissing Rodney’s forehead. Both men came at the same time, Rodney crying out John’s name and John with a moan. He rolled off Rodney and tossed the condom in the trashcan nearby. Then he curled himself around Rodney, holding him tightly. "I love you." He said, whispering it into Rodney’s ear as he fell asleep.

"This is what I want." Rodney whispered, mostly to himself. "I love you, John." He closed his eye and drifted to sleep.