SGA fic: Gaijin pt 4/40
Dec. 9th, 2008 06:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sam_gamgeeGaijin, Part 4/40
The complete header can be found in part 1.
Previous parts can be found here.
Rodney sighed as he got out of bed. It was the first morning of his seventh month with the Laprans.
As he went through his morning ablutions, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride that he’d been able to last so long without “going native”. Pushing himself to best John’s “record” of staying apart as much as possible without alienating himself had kept him sane the past few months. While he was still hoping deep down for some sort of Hail Mary save from Atlantis, he knew that by if he wanted to get home he’d have to figure out how to do it himself. And since sneaking off had been removed from the very short list of viable options very early, he was currently biding his time.
Pulling on the clothes he had originally worn, Rodney couldn’t help but notice the physical changes that had happened to him while he was there. His hair was a bit longer than he was use to keeping it and badly in need of a trim, but he kind of liked it the way it was. He was a bit leaner than when he’d first arrived and now his clothes were oddly loose on him. He knew it had to do with the fact that he wasn’t eating as much, and at first eating less than he was being offered since he had been afraid he’d cause too much of a shortage, but it was also as much not eating as much junk and doing more walking throughout the camp. He laughed mentally as he pulled on his boots – if only his Earth doctor could see him now.
He had also been surprised at how his hypoglycemia hadn’t been a problem aside from that first day. Kirby had kept a careful eye on him the first few weeks and made sure he ate when the first hint of an episode presented. And if he happened to be in another part of the camp, the people were surprisingly generous in feeding him if necessary. Rodney had been surprised to find the Lapran diet was much more balanced than one would expect and that they weren’t as stingy with their food as one would expect either – especially when it was needed. But he still carried at least one glucagon injector with him – just in case.
Jillian stirred the fire and added more fuel before starting to prepare breakfast. “Sleep well?” she asked with a smile.
“I did,” Rodney replied, sitting down across the fire from her. “You?”
She nodded as she put the biscuit pan over the grate on top of the fire. “Think you could clean the pit out later and get us some more water?”
“Sure,” he replied, stowing his pajamas in his trunk. “And I need to run an errand for Jean this morning as well.”
“Are you headed anywhere near Heather and George?” Kirby asked, sitting down next to him.
“I believe so,” Rodney replied. “Need me to drop something off?”
Kirby handed him a small packet. “Give this to Lily and tell her to take a pinch of it twice a day with water. It’s to help her cramps with the baby.” Rodney nodded and stuck the packet in a pocket. “And after you finish the two chores Jillian gave you, come see me. We’re going to start on your meditation this afternoon.” He gave Rodney a look that dared him to object.
“Okay,” Rodney replied as he started eating his yak jerky.
He had figured that they’d try to get him to meditate at some point. This is going to be interesting, he thought dryly. Unless it was a dire emergency, he had never been able to sit still for five minutes, let alone sit still and *be* *quiet*. That usually lasted about five seconds before he had an idea he needed to start looking into or remembered something that needed to be done *now* – or, at the very least, he would start talking just to fill the void. He had always found silence to be extremely uncomfortable and the fact that these people seemed to relish it made him a little uneasy.
Walking back and forth across the complex had become a more enjoyable experience than Rodney had originally anticipated. Part of him suspected it was the lack of drama. On Atlantis, there was always *something* going on – people blowing up on each other in the labs, people standing a little too close and looking a little too meaningfully at each other in the halls, continual gossip about X and Y. He secretly suspected that was a large factor in his short temper – some days he felt like he was stuck in a soap opera, not in the city of the Ancients.
Here, things were much quieter. Rodney was sure that there was still drama – he doubted any community was completely free of it, even the Antarctica base hadn’t been impervious – it was simply much quieter than what he was used to.
“Rodney!” A little boy of about five came barreling over to him as he re-entered his borough.
Rodney eyed him apprehensively as Kevin skidded to a stop in front of him. “Yes, Kevin?” he asked warily, stepping around him.
Whirling around to follow him, Kevin asked, “Is it true you’re from a planet far, far away? And that you came through the Ring of the Ancestors?”
“It is,” Rodney replied, going into the quarters he shared with Jillian and Kirby – he refused to take any sort of ownership in them, even in his own thinking.
“Do you miss your home?” Kevin asked, following him inside. “Why don’t you go back? What’s your home like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Rodney rolled his eyes at Kirby, who was silently laughing, as Kevin paused to take a breath. Rodney really didn’t know how he seemed to charm kids wherever he went – even when he wasn’t trying or was being his prickliest. Before Kevin could continue, Rodney replied, “I do miss home. There’s a lot of reasons why I haven’t gone back and, believe me, if any of them worked we wouldn’t be talking right now. My home is a floating city on a large ocean. And I have a younger sister.”
“I have a little sister. Her name’s Janna.”
“I know,” Rodney replied as he got the pail, shovel, and brush for the fire pit. “Look,” he said as patiently as possible, “I have a few things to do right now. Would you mind if we continue this later?”
“Okay,” Kevin replied easily. “Bye, Rodney. Bye, Kirby-san.”
“Good-bye, Kevin-kun,” Kirby replied with a smile as Kevin left. “He’s a good kid, even if he does ask a lot of questions. I have a feeling he’s going to succeed the story-teller when he gets older.”
Rodney didn’t reply as he made quick work of cleaning out the fire pit and refilling the water jars. Sitting down on the floor with a sigh, he said, “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Kirby nodded and moved from his bed to the floor, sitting in front of Rodney in a half-lotus position, hands open and palms up, the right on top of the left. Rodney straightened up and sat cross-legged, hands on his knees. Kirby closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths and Rodney watched him, not sure what to do and starting to get a little nervous.
He finally opened his eyes and Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sure this is going to be tedious for you in the beginning. I know you like to go as fast as possible as much as possible because you’re always thinking. We believe that meditation is to help you become more mindful of where you are in the present, as well as deal with things in your past that need to be resolved so that you can move forward to become a more peaceful person that the Gods would find favor with.”
Rodney nodded, rubbing his hands on his pants. “And how do you propose I deal with the unresolved issues?” he asked, slightly bitter.
“I’ll walk you through compartmentalizing and then releasing them – at least at first. I’m confident that after awhile you’ll be able to do it yourself. Now, take a deep breath in.” He demonstrated, and waited for Rodney to follow suit. “And let it out slowly,” he said as he did so. He took him through a few more breaths the same way, before having him breathe the same way, but deeper in his chest and centered more in his body.
“Good, keep breathing that way,” Kirby told him. “Now, focus on your breathing and keeping it steady. Focus only on your breathing and let your thoughts move through your mind’s eye as they desire.”
Rodney’s eyes snapped open. “I don’t – I can’t,” he said quickly.
“Yes, you can,” Kirby replied firmly. “Now close your eyes and start over.”
“I –”
“*Rodney*.”
Rodney huffed and did as he was told. He closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and evenly again. The first thing that came to mind was the last game of chess he had played with John and Rodney smiled. A second memory soon replaced the first, but this one was more depressing and he frowned deeply – it was of his paternal grandmother’s funeral. She had loved him like no one else in the family did and even after all these years, he still missed her greatly.
“Tell me, Rodney,” Kirby prompted.
“Well, first it was John and I playing chess – it’s a game we have that deals with strategy – definitely a good memory. Then there was a memory of my grandmother’s funeral. I was about fifteen at the time and she was the one person in my family that really understood me and loved me for me. It hurt when she died.”
“It appears that it still does. You do her no honor by remaining in your grief. Hold that memory in your mind’s eye. Pour all of your negative emotions from losing her into it. Tell me when you’re ready to continue.”
Rodney did so, putting all the grief and resentment he’d ever felt at losing his into it, along with the anger he felt at his parents for trying to discourage their relationship and for how they had acted at the funeral and in the days afterwards. When he had contained it, he said, “Ready.”
“Now, place that memory into a small chest. Close the chest and lock it. Put the chest off to one side and return to focusing on your breathing.”
Rodney followed Kirby’s instructions, feeling his breathing leveling out once again and a slight sense of peace wash over him.
“How do you feel?” Kirby asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Rodney replied. “A little more relaxed.”
“It’ll take time,” Kirby replied, “and I doubt you’ll uncover everything and deal with it the first time around. Now, let’s repeat the process.”
When they finished, which Rodney assumed was an hour later, he was exhausted – both physically and emotionally. Kirby had pushed him into talking about and dealing with things that he hadn’t even thought about in years – if not decades.
Kirby gave him a drink of water and helped him stand. “You look exhausted. You’ll feel better after you take a nap,” he said, guiding him over to his cot.
Rodney sank down onto it. “Thank you,” he replied with a tired smile before falling onto his side and falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.
When he awoke some time later, Jillian had returned home and was playing with her little cousin. And Kirby was nowhere in sight. Rodney stretched languidly; feeling more relaxed than he had in a long, long time.
“How are you feeling?” Jillian asked, looking up at him.
“Pretty good,” he replied, sitting up and stretching his back. “Hungry, though.”
Jillian nodded. “I’m sure. You seem to have a weighted soul.” She took the lid off a pot over the fire and started dishing out some stew. “We see those from time to time among our trading partners.” She handed over the steaming bowl as Rodney sat down and smiled. “I’m sure you’ll benefit greatly from the meditation.”
Rodney shrugged as he began eating, scooping the soup out with a crusty piece of bread. “It’s possible, but I’ve never put much stock into it.”
“Do not your people meditate as well?” Jillian’s cousin, Rodney was pretty sure his name was Kyle, wiggled out of her lap and she let him go.
“Some do and they seem to think it’s a great thing. But I’ve always thought it was just a load of voodoo.” At her confused look, he added, “Something that’s a load of crap and doesn’t have any real basis.”
“But if people are benefiting from it….” She started and then trailed off, trying to gather her thoughts.
“But, see, that’s the thing,” Rodney said, putting his food down and warming up to the subject, “you *say* it’s helping you, but there’s no quantifiable way of actually measure whether or not it really is helping you. I could say that the one session I had with Kirby fixed everything and that now I’m a new man and you’d have no way to prove that I’m lying.”
Jillian studied him as Kyle pulled himself up into Rodney’s lap. “Your words have truth to them,” she finally said, “but I think you dismiss too much simply because you think the means to learn more about it are inadequate.” She started cleaning the bowls she, Kirby and Kyle had used as she continued, “You yourself said that you felt more relaxed after one session. I doubt that if meditation were complete ‘voodoo’ that you would be feeling this way.”
“Yes, well, a good scientist doesn’t base a whole theory on one test.” He sighed as he absently pulled Kyle’s hand down from where he was trying to insert his fingers into Rodney’s mouth. “And what exactly do you want?” he asked, looking down at Kyle. “I doubt it’s either attention or food – seeing as how you get more than enough around here.”
Kyle simply giggled and patted Rodney’s chest before snuggling against it.
“You should be proud,” Jillian said with a bit of surprise. “He hasn’t been very personable lately.”
“Terrible twos?” Rodney asked absently.
“I suppose,” she replied. “He’s been wanting his mother more than anyone else lately. And he’s been finicky with his food and gets upset at the slightest provocation.”
“Yep, that sounds like the terrible twos.”
“You aren’t fond of children, are you?” she asked.
“Not really,” he replied as he picked up his bowl and carefully resumed eating. “They tend to get into things and break them, or mess up your notes, or put their sticky hands on everything and render it useless until it can be cleaned – which is usually time consuming. And they don’t listen and get upset when you tell them to do something and it’s just better if I don’t have to deal with them.”
“And, yet, the kids here seem to like you.” She finished drying the bowls and cups and set them to the side of the fire pit.
“They always do.”
Sitting in a half lotus position, she asked, “Don’t you want to have kids of your own?”
“That would infer that I actually want to get married. Which – my long-standing unrequited crush on Lt. Col. Samantha Carter aside – I *do* not want to do.”
Rodney pushed down the niggling sensation that he should admit to his relationship – or whatever it was – with John. While he hadn’t seen any overtly gay relationships or heard anyone talking about it in any context here, there were a few couples he was pretty sure were together. He didn’t want to open a can of worms if he was wrong.
Jillian smiled. “You are a puzzle, Rodney, but one that is worth figuring out, I think.”
Rodney finished the last scrap of his bread. “And it took you only seven months to figure that out?”
She laughed as she took the bowl from Rodney and Kirby stepped through the flap to their quarters.
He smiled upon seeing Rodney’s arms automatically move to cradle a now-sleeping Kyle as soon as his hands were empty. After kissing Jillian on the top of her head, he said, “I see you’ve made a new friend.”
“Not by my own doing, I can assure you,” Rodney replied. “I tend to make people cry.”
“Unintentionally, I hope,” Kirby replied as he sat down.
“Usually,” Rodney replied, absently rubbing Kyle’s back with one hand and Kyle snuggled closer. “I was merely pointing out their faults and I have a tendency to be… abrasive with other people.”
“Well, that’s something you’ll have to work on in your meditation.”
“I don’t get a say in this, do I?” Rodney asked unhappily.
“No. I believe that this is something you need to help you heal, Rodney. While you’re not physically ill, your soul is deeply hurting and this will help you on the road to recovery – much like lancing a boil. And this will indirectly help you physically.”
“Yeah, we’ve already had a discussion about that,” Jillian replied with a smile.
Kelly called from outside, “May I come in?”
“Yes,” Kirby replied.
Kelly ducked his head in. “Feel up to doing something, Rodney?” he asked.
“Sure, but I – ah….” He pointed at Kyle.
Kirby chuckled and leaned over to take Kyle off of Rodney’s lap. “Go on,” he said warmly.
Rodney hopped up and joined Kelly in the common area and found him carrying two long poles. “What’s up?” he asked as he followed him into the caves and down into one of the deeper levels.
“I thought we’d start your staff training today,” Kelly replied easily as they entered the one that had been designated a practice area for staffs. Two other couples were already there and sparring, the percussive rhythm of their staffs hitting slightly syncopated.
Rodney furrowed his brow. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” Kelly replied, handing him one of the poles.
“I swear – between you and Kirby, I’m thinking that you’re mounting a two-pronged attack to beat me into submission and make me more like all of you.”
Kelly laughed as he swung his arms a few times and twirled his pole lazily. “Started you meditating, did he?”
“This morning. Who knew an hour of meditation could be so intense?”
“Not a believer, then?”
“Not normally, no.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Kelly said as he did a few quick stretches.
“You don’t do it?” Rodney asked incredulously as he started mimicking Kelly’s stretches.
“No, I do it. I just mean – I know some of our trading allies who’ve tried and just couldn’t do it. But I think you’d be able to do it and that it would work for you.”
“Yeah, that’s what Kirby and Jillian seem to think,” Rodney replied.
“They’re both a good judge of people. Okay, let’s get started. Fighting with staffs is mostly a matter of thrusting and parrying – offense and defense.” And with a smile, he added, “I’ll take it easy on you this time.”
Kelly swung his staff at Rodney and Rodney instinctively brought his staff up to block it. The staffs hit with a satisfying crack. Rodney smiled inwardly, noting that Ronon’s “lessons” hasn’t been completely fruitless.
Kelly started out slow with him, showing him the different blocking positions. Then he walked him through them in succession, giving Rodney a smile as he blocked each attack in turn.
“Good,” he said when they finished. “Now, let’s see if we can speed this up a bit. Ready?”
“As much as I’ll ever be,” Rodney replied, a little worried at what Kelly meant by ‘speed this up a bit’.
Kelly pushed Rodney through the succession of blocks in quicker and quicker repetitions, forcing him to respond by instinct instead of thinking. Rodney was breathing heavily when they stopped and Kelly grinned.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
“Yeah, well, it helps when you’re used to getting pummeled at home by a large brute who thinks it’s fun,” Rodney gasped.
Kelly’s brow furrowed as he leaned on his staff. “And you allowed him to do this to you?”
“It’s for ‘self-defense’ classes,” Rodney replied, making air quotes. “And it was either that or Teyla and her bantos sticks – which, from what John’s said, I think I’ll stay with Ronon. At least he lets me wear padding.”
“I don’t know if I like your people very much, Rodney.”
“Technically, they’re not my people – well, John is,” Rodney said, going over to a pail of water with a ladle. Carefully sniffing the water, he took a sip before gulping the rest of the contents of the ladle. “We kind of picked up Ronon and Teyla along the way. And normally they’re great – very useful to have around.” He drank another ladleful of water.
“You have spoken highly of the three of them,” Kelly admitted, though Rodney thought it maybe have been a bit grudgingly. “And you and John seemed to be especially close. Were you bonded?”
“Bonded?” Rodney asked, frowning as he went back to Kelly. “No, I don’t think so. We were close – I thought of him as a best friend.”
“What made you change your mind?” Kelly asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you thought of him as a best friend. What changed?”
“Well, I got stuck here, didn’t I?” Rodney asked hotly.
Kelly said nothing, but studied him for a moment before saying, “Let’s get back to work. We’re going to go through the blocks again, but I’m going to mix them up.”
“Oh, great,” Rodney muttered as he grabbed his staff with both hands. “Let the beatings begin.”
When they finally stopped, Rodney sent up a mental “Thank God”. He was sweating and he knew his face was red. Kelly, on the other hand, looked like he had only had a light workout.
“You did really well,” he said with a grin. “Ronon must have taught you something.”
“Apparently,” Rodney replied with a shrug of his eyebrows. He could tell there would be a few spots that would have bruises come morning, but overall he wasn’t going to be as banged up as he had feared. Although, if this was Kelly ‘taking it easy’ on him, he definitely had to worry about future training. Kelly might make Ronon look like a kitten.
After they both grabbed a drink, they went back to Kirby and Jillian’s quarters. Outside, Rodney handed the staff back to Kelly.
“Keep it,” Kelly replied, waving him off. “It’s customary to use the staff your teacher gives you until you become proficient – then you give it back and make your own.”
“Okay,” Rodney replied hesitantly. But that did explain the markings he saw on Kelly’s staff that were missing from his own plain one.
“You did well, Rodney. I’m sure you’ll be making your own staff in no time. We’ll continue tomorrow.”
Rodney nodded once. “Okay. I guess that’s good night, then.”
Kelly gave him a quick nod. “It is. Good night, Rodney.”
Rodney half-expected a pat on the arm or the shoulder – it’s what John would have done, he thought absently, but none was forthcoming as Kelly turned and walked away.
He stared after Kelly for a moment, not sure how to feel. The Laprans were all very verbally open and affirming – quick to praise and compliment. But they were very slow to show physical affection. The only times he had seen them touch was when it was necessary. And, yet, they seemed to have closer relationships than the ones he saw either on Earth or Atlantis – where people were able to touch more freely.
Rodney shook his head and headed inside.
Jillian looked up from where she was working on mending a shirt and smiled. “How did it go?” she asked.
“I’m not dead yet,” Rodney replied with a small smile. “Supposedly, Kelly was only giving me a light beating tonight. He seems to think I have aptitude, though.”
“That’s good,” she said as Rodney placed his staff under his cot.
Rodney sank down onto the cot, suddenly exhausted, and toed off his moccasins before curling up and pulling the blanket over himself. “If anyone needs me, it’d better be for a damn good reason. Otherwise, tell them to wait until morning,” he said before promptly falling asleep, not hearing Jillian’s response.
The next morning brought another grueling meditation session with Kirby. Prior to this, Rodney had always puttered about while Jillian and Kirby were meditating, doing odds and ends to help clean up breakfast and get ready for the rest of the day.
But that free pass was definitely over. Kirby was more relentless than Kate had ever been. She would push, but when it became clear that Rodney wasn’t going to talk about something, she would move on to other topics and come back later. Kirby, on the other hand, kept pushing and pushing one point until Rodney would break, angrily telling him things that he hadn’t told anyone – ever.
And, somehow, Rodney didn’t mind. Of course he minded Kirby digging into him and making him talk about his parents and his grandmother, since that’s what his brain seemed to focus on today, but he didn’t mind the way Kirby did it. Kate, though Rodney didn’t think she realized it – and the other shrinks he had been forced to see over the years – had always been so patronizing in their “And how does that make you feel?” line of questioning that he had trouble forging a bond with them that would ultimately help him. Kirby, on the other hand, seemed happy enough with Rodney telling him what had happened and not in passing judgment – at least not out loud.
When they finished, Rodney took a few deep breaths, again feeling drained.
“You’re doing well, Rodney-kun,” Kirby said with a warm smile as he used the endearment.
“What exactly is the point of all of this?” Rodney asked, slightly huffy and a little bewildered. “What’s the point of having me tell you all these things if you’re not going to write things down and analyze everything, and tell me what’s going on in my brain?”
Kirby studied him for a moment, making Rodney squirm slightly, before calmly answering, “Is this for me to know everything about you, or for you to find peace?”
Rodney stared at him, baffled. Kirby didn’t seem to expect an actual answer, but for Rodney to think about it.
“Now,” Kirby said. “For the rest of today, you are to remain silent. You are not allowed to talk to anyone. You know the others will understand and not find it rude, since it’s one of our regular practices. I know it will help you greatly. We shall repeat this process of meditation and silence for as long as necessary.”
Rodney gaped at Kirby. Revise that, Kirby was definitely more evil than Kate. Rodney tightened his jaw and nodded once sharply.
“Good.” Kirby stood and Rodney followed. “I know you don’t like the idea of this, Rodney, but it will do you good. From what it sounds like, your people have done great things, but at the sacrifice of your own peace. I’m surprised your gods haven’t retreated from your people completely as well.”
The first day was hell on Rodney. He continually forgot that he wasn’t supposed to speak, although everyone around him seemed to know. Every time he uttered so much as a syllable, he was given a reproving look that could’ve withered a cactus. He wasn’t sure if he preferred that or Jillian and Kelly’s method of giving him a friendly swat on the back of his head if he tried to talk.
It took him a full month before he was able to spend a day in complete silence. And it was a month that he didn’t want to repeat. Ever.
It seemed that the less he talked, the more he thought. And the more he thought, the more his mind dredged up, now that he had started down that path. If only Kate could see him now, he thought more than once – telling Kirby things he had never wanted to tell anyone and ending some sessions in tears that he hadn’t let himself release before. In the process of doing so, he grudgingly had to admit that he was feeling better – more centered, more at peace, quieter. And these things scared him. Rodney had become so used to his mind racing, his thoughts going in five different directions at once. He had allowed it because otherwise he would have had to think about things that were better left unthought, but now he was at a loss with what to do with himself.
It seemed that Kirby’s idea of being a silent confessor who gave only the barest hint of absolution was exactly what Rodney needed.
And Kelly didn’t see the silence as a reason to stop Rodney’s staff training. Which, by the end of the month Rodney was grateful for as well. With someone other than Ronon training him, since what Ronon had started him with was somewhat similar, Rodney’s experience grew in leaps and bounds. By the end of the month he was able to give Kelly a run for his money.
“You’re doing well,” Kelly said at the end of a sparring session. “Most people don’t pick up the staff this quickly.”
“I’ve always been a quick learner,” Rodney replied blithely as he took a drink of water. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You know you can,” Kelly replied, taking the ladle from Rodney and taking a drink himself.
“Why is everyone here so friendly?”
“I don’t understand.” Kelly gave Rodney a confused look.
“I mean – sure, back on Atlantis we praised people if they deserved it, but you all seem to go out of your way to do it.”
Kelly shrugged. “It’s just our way of doing it. We realize that we need to do it as a means of survival. If one of us feels unappreciated, then he or she won’t do his or her job and then everyone else will need to pick up the slack and they’ll feel like they’re not being appreciated for what they’re doing and so on.” He smiled, “Besides, we do actually like you. And that’s what friends do, right?”
“I guess so,” Rodney replied as they headed topside, not wanting to burst Kelly’s bubble that *his* friends usually didn’t.
“Kirby, I need to talk to you.”
“Not now, Rodney-kun,” Kirby replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, not even looking up from his mortar and pestle.
“No, it’s not about the kids. I’m over that.” He paused for a second at Kirby’s sharp glare and quickly sat down, automatically crossing his legs. “Well, mostly.”
“Then what is it?” Kirby asked sharply. “I need to get this finished for tomorrow.”
“I know that there’s some sort of huge bazaar happening this month, but I was hoping that at the end of it, you’d let me go home.” Wanting to get it out before Kirby had a chance to interrupt him, Rodney continued on, “I’ve been here a full cycle and you *know* that I’m not a threat to you and neither are my people. If we were, don’t you think it would have happened by now?”
“No,” Kirby replied brusquely and Rodney knew he meant in general and not to the last question.
“Would you and the other elders at least consider it?”
“Rodney-kun,” Kirby’s hands stilled in his lap as he sighed, “The answer is no and you know that. We have been safe here for a long, long time and while we understand that you want to go home, we will not risk the chance of someone taking advantage of your people’s knowledge of our position and now your knowledge of us.”
“Then can I at least send them a message that I’m okay? I promise I won’t encode any secret messages in it for them to come in with guns blazing.”
“No. We’ve been over this.” Kirby’s voice softened as he resumed his work. “You’d better get over to Jean and help her out. Once tomorrow morning comes, you’re on your own.”
“Yes, Kirby,” Rodney replied quietly as he stood and headed out of their quarters, determined to not let his disappointment show.
The next morning came early and started with Kevin pouncing on a still-sleeping Rodney, giggling loudly. Rodney groaned, rolled over onto his back and looked up at Kevin’s mother, Jenna, who was standing over them with a smile.
“The kids are arriving,” she said. “I’ll go start getting them situated. Come on, Kevin.”
Kevin grinned at Rodney and gave him a big kiss on his cheek before scrambling up, elbowing Rodney in the stomach in the process.
Rodney groaned again, rolling onto his stomach. This month was going to be hell.
“So, what are we going to do today?” A boy named Brody asked and twenty-five pairs of eyes looked at him.
“Um, I’m not really sure,” Rodney replied. “What do you guys normally do during the day?”
“Normally, our clan mothers will teach us before lunch,” one of the girls replied. Rodney thought her name was Laura, but he wasn’t sure – that might have been her twin.
“And then we play games in the afternoon,” replied her sister.
“Tell us a story,” a kid he thought was named Michael said.
“I don’t know any of your stories,” Rodney replied.
“How can you not know our stories?” Jennifer asked incredulously. “You’ve been here a whole cycle.”
Rodney shrugged. “I don’t. Well, I don’t know any completely.” A light bulb came on. “I could tell you some of my stories, though – from where I come from.”
The older kids looked at him suspiciously as the younger ones eagerly seated themselves at his feet. “Okay, let’s see.” He wracked his brain for a suitable one, rejecting Vonnegut, Bradbury and Asimov as being over these kids heads. He figured he could get a few days out of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia, depending on how well the kids took to mythical creatures. Same for J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. And he could probably do Star Wars and possibly some of Star Trek, if he carefully edited it. Superheroes were always good. And the good thing about them was that he could easily make up new stories.
“Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together and looking out over his audience – the younger half, which ranged from three to about eight, were already captivated even though he hadn’t even said anything, and the older half, which ranged from nine to twelve or thirteen, were warily contemplating him. “I’ve got a good story for you about four kids – a girl about your ages named Lucy,” he pointed to the smaller kids and they smiled, “a boy about your ages, named Edmund,” he pointed to the older kids, a couple of whom hesitantly smiled, “and their older brother and sister named Lucy and Peter. They had a number of adventures and even helped save the world. What do you think? Want to hear it?”
“YES!” came an enthusiastic chorus.
“How’s it going?” Kelly asked, as he and a couple of mothers ducked into the common area that afternoon.
“It’s going,” Rodney replied with a shrug as he watched the kids running around playing a game that looked a lot like tag. The younger ones were screaming with delight whenever one of the older ones got too close. Not wanting to admit that he was actually enjoying the kids, he changed the subject. “So, what’s up with the difference in the weather?”
Kelly shrugged. “No idea. Seems like they’re enjoying themselves.”
Rodney nodded. “They even liked the story I told them earlier. Some of the older kids promised to start teaching me your stories tonight.”
One of the mothers came back later that evening to check on her children after they had all gone to sleep and she stayed to talk with Rodney for a while. His eyes kept wandering to her hands, which were absently carding through some silk thread before she spun it into a thread on a hand spindle.
“Do you want to learn?” she asked, and Rodney looked up to find her watching him.
“I don’t know,” Rodney replied, eyeing the thread. “I’ve never been good at things like that.”
She looked down at his hands. “I don’t know about that,” she replied. “Your fingers look able enough. Here, just try it.” She moved closer and transferred her work to his lap. She placed the spinner and raw silk in his hands and explained what to do as she guided his hands through the steps. She gave him an encouraging smile as he tried it. The first few times, the thread broke and she carefully corrected him. As she patiently helped him, Rodney found himself slowly catching on, even if it more slowly than he would have liked and she kept having to help him smooth the thread out from being too lumpy and uneven. But, after a while, Rodney found his rhythm. “Good,” she said as she watched him spin the thread for a few minutes without any mistakes. She got up to check on her children again before bidding Rodney ‘good night’ and leaving the silk with him.
Rodney watched her go and then turned his attention back to the silk. It felt good to have something for his hands to do, even if it meant his mind was still able to be aware of its surroundings. But for once, his mind was quiet. Rodney let out a relaxed sigh. This month may not be so bad after all.
Continue to Part 5
The complete header can be found in part 1.
Previous parts can be found here.
Rodney sighed as he got out of bed. It was the first morning of his seventh month with the Laprans.
As he went through his morning ablutions, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride that he’d been able to last so long without “going native”. Pushing himself to best John’s “record” of staying apart as much as possible without alienating himself had kept him sane the past few months. While he was still hoping deep down for some sort of Hail Mary save from Atlantis, he knew that by if he wanted to get home he’d have to figure out how to do it himself. And since sneaking off had been removed from the very short list of viable options very early, he was currently biding his time.
Pulling on the clothes he had originally worn, Rodney couldn’t help but notice the physical changes that had happened to him while he was there. His hair was a bit longer than he was use to keeping it and badly in need of a trim, but he kind of liked it the way it was. He was a bit leaner than when he’d first arrived and now his clothes were oddly loose on him. He knew it had to do with the fact that he wasn’t eating as much, and at first eating less than he was being offered since he had been afraid he’d cause too much of a shortage, but it was also as much not eating as much junk and doing more walking throughout the camp. He laughed mentally as he pulled on his boots – if only his Earth doctor could see him now.
He had also been surprised at how his hypoglycemia hadn’t been a problem aside from that first day. Kirby had kept a careful eye on him the first few weeks and made sure he ate when the first hint of an episode presented. And if he happened to be in another part of the camp, the people were surprisingly generous in feeding him if necessary. Rodney had been surprised to find the Lapran diet was much more balanced than one would expect and that they weren’t as stingy with their food as one would expect either – especially when it was needed. But he still carried at least one glucagon injector with him – just in case.
Jillian stirred the fire and added more fuel before starting to prepare breakfast. “Sleep well?” she asked with a smile.
“I did,” Rodney replied, sitting down across the fire from her. “You?”
She nodded as she put the biscuit pan over the grate on top of the fire. “Think you could clean the pit out later and get us some more water?”
“Sure,” he replied, stowing his pajamas in his trunk. “And I need to run an errand for Jean this morning as well.”
“Are you headed anywhere near Heather and George?” Kirby asked, sitting down next to him.
“I believe so,” Rodney replied. “Need me to drop something off?”
Kirby handed him a small packet. “Give this to Lily and tell her to take a pinch of it twice a day with water. It’s to help her cramps with the baby.” Rodney nodded and stuck the packet in a pocket. “And after you finish the two chores Jillian gave you, come see me. We’re going to start on your meditation this afternoon.” He gave Rodney a look that dared him to object.
“Okay,” Rodney replied as he started eating his yak jerky.
He had figured that they’d try to get him to meditate at some point. This is going to be interesting, he thought dryly. Unless it was a dire emergency, he had never been able to sit still for five minutes, let alone sit still and *be* *quiet*. That usually lasted about five seconds before he had an idea he needed to start looking into or remembered something that needed to be done *now* – or, at the very least, he would start talking just to fill the void. He had always found silence to be extremely uncomfortable and the fact that these people seemed to relish it made him a little uneasy.
Walking back and forth across the complex had become a more enjoyable experience than Rodney had originally anticipated. Part of him suspected it was the lack of drama. On Atlantis, there was always *something* going on – people blowing up on each other in the labs, people standing a little too close and looking a little too meaningfully at each other in the halls, continual gossip about X and Y. He secretly suspected that was a large factor in his short temper – some days he felt like he was stuck in a soap opera, not in the city of the Ancients.
Here, things were much quieter. Rodney was sure that there was still drama – he doubted any community was completely free of it, even the Antarctica base hadn’t been impervious – it was simply much quieter than what he was used to.
“Rodney!” A little boy of about five came barreling over to him as he re-entered his borough.
Rodney eyed him apprehensively as Kevin skidded to a stop in front of him. “Yes, Kevin?” he asked warily, stepping around him.
Whirling around to follow him, Kevin asked, “Is it true you’re from a planet far, far away? And that you came through the Ring of the Ancestors?”
“It is,” Rodney replied, going into the quarters he shared with Jillian and Kirby – he refused to take any sort of ownership in them, even in his own thinking.
“Do you miss your home?” Kevin asked, following him inside. “Why don’t you go back? What’s your home like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Rodney rolled his eyes at Kirby, who was silently laughing, as Kevin paused to take a breath. Rodney really didn’t know how he seemed to charm kids wherever he went – even when he wasn’t trying or was being his prickliest. Before Kevin could continue, Rodney replied, “I do miss home. There’s a lot of reasons why I haven’t gone back and, believe me, if any of them worked we wouldn’t be talking right now. My home is a floating city on a large ocean. And I have a younger sister.”
“I have a little sister. Her name’s Janna.”
“I know,” Rodney replied as he got the pail, shovel, and brush for the fire pit. “Look,” he said as patiently as possible, “I have a few things to do right now. Would you mind if we continue this later?”
“Okay,” Kevin replied easily. “Bye, Rodney. Bye, Kirby-san.”
“Good-bye, Kevin-kun,” Kirby replied with a smile as Kevin left. “He’s a good kid, even if he does ask a lot of questions. I have a feeling he’s going to succeed the story-teller when he gets older.”
Rodney didn’t reply as he made quick work of cleaning out the fire pit and refilling the water jars. Sitting down on the floor with a sigh, he said, “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Kirby nodded and moved from his bed to the floor, sitting in front of Rodney in a half-lotus position, hands open and palms up, the right on top of the left. Rodney straightened up and sat cross-legged, hands on his knees. Kirby closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths and Rodney watched him, not sure what to do and starting to get a little nervous.
He finally opened his eyes and Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sure this is going to be tedious for you in the beginning. I know you like to go as fast as possible as much as possible because you’re always thinking. We believe that meditation is to help you become more mindful of where you are in the present, as well as deal with things in your past that need to be resolved so that you can move forward to become a more peaceful person that the Gods would find favor with.”
Rodney nodded, rubbing his hands on his pants. “And how do you propose I deal with the unresolved issues?” he asked, slightly bitter.
“I’ll walk you through compartmentalizing and then releasing them – at least at first. I’m confident that after awhile you’ll be able to do it yourself. Now, take a deep breath in.” He demonstrated, and waited for Rodney to follow suit. “And let it out slowly,” he said as he did so. He took him through a few more breaths the same way, before having him breathe the same way, but deeper in his chest and centered more in his body.
“Good, keep breathing that way,” Kirby told him. “Now, focus on your breathing and keeping it steady. Focus only on your breathing and let your thoughts move through your mind’s eye as they desire.”
Rodney’s eyes snapped open. “I don’t – I can’t,” he said quickly.
“Yes, you can,” Kirby replied firmly. “Now close your eyes and start over.”
“I –”
“*Rodney*.”
Rodney huffed and did as he was told. He closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and evenly again. The first thing that came to mind was the last game of chess he had played with John and Rodney smiled. A second memory soon replaced the first, but this one was more depressing and he frowned deeply – it was of his paternal grandmother’s funeral. She had loved him like no one else in the family did and even after all these years, he still missed her greatly.
“Tell me, Rodney,” Kirby prompted.
“Well, first it was John and I playing chess – it’s a game we have that deals with strategy – definitely a good memory. Then there was a memory of my grandmother’s funeral. I was about fifteen at the time and she was the one person in my family that really understood me and loved me for me. It hurt when she died.”
“It appears that it still does. You do her no honor by remaining in your grief. Hold that memory in your mind’s eye. Pour all of your negative emotions from losing her into it. Tell me when you’re ready to continue.”
Rodney did so, putting all the grief and resentment he’d ever felt at losing his into it, along with the anger he felt at his parents for trying to discourage their relationship and for how they had acted at the funeral and in the days afterwards. When he had contained it, he said, “Ready.”
“Now, place that memory into a small chest. Close the chest and lock it. Put the chest off to one side and return to focusing on your breathing.”
Rodney followed Kirby’s instructions, feeling his breathing leveling out once again and a slight sense of peace wash over him.
“How do you feel?” Kirby asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Rodney replied. “A little more relaxed.”
“It’ll take time,” Kirby replied, “and I doubt you’ll uncover everything and deal with it the first time around. Now, let’s repeat the process.”
When they finished, which Rodney assumed was an hour later, he was exhausted – both physically and emotionally. Kirby had pushed him into talking about and dealing with things that he hadn’t even thought about in years – if not decades.
Kirby gave him a drink of water and helped him stand. “You look exhausted. You’ll feel better after you take a nap,” he said, guiding him over to his cot.
Rodney sank down onto it. “Thank you,” he replied with a tired smile before falling onto his side and falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.
When he awoke some time later, Jillian had returned home and was playing with her little cousin. And Kirby was nowhere in sight. Rodney stretched languidly; feeling more relaxed than he had in a long, long time.
“How are you feeling?” Jillian asked, looking up at him.
“Pretty good,” he replied, sitting up and stretching his back. “Hungry, though.”
Jillian nodded. “I’m sure. You seem to have a weighted soul.” She took the lid off a pot over the fire and started dishing out some stew. “We see those from time to time among our trading partners.” She handed over the steaming bowl as Rodney sat down and smiled. “I’m sure you’ll benefit greatly from the meditation.”
Rodney shrugged as he began eating, scooping the soup out with a crusty piece of bread. “It’s possible, but I’ve never put much stock into it.”
“Do not your people meditate as well?” Jillian’s cousin, Rodney was pretty sure his name was Kyle, wiggled out of her lap and she let him go.
“Some do and they seem to think it’s a great thing. But I’ve always thought it was just a load of voodoo.” At her confused look, he added, “Something that’s a load of crap and doesn’t have any real basis.”
“But if people are benefiting from it….” She started and then trailed off, trying to gather her thoughts.
“But, see, that’s the thing,” Rodney said, putting his food down and warming up to the subject, “you *say* it’s helping you, but there’s no quantifiable way of actually measure whether or not it really is helping you. I could say that the one session I had with Kirby fixed everything and that now I’m a new man and you’d have no way to prove that I’m lying.”
Jillian studied him as Kyle pulled himself up into Rodney’s lap. “Your words have truth to them,” she finally said, “but I think you dismiss too much simply because you think the means to learn more about it are inadequate.” She started cleaning the bowls she, Kirby and Kyle had used as she continued, “You yourself said that you felt more relaxed after one session. I doubt that if meditation were complete ‘voodoo’ that you would be feeling this way.”
“Yes, well, a good scientist doesn’t base a whole theory on one test.” He sighed as he absently pulled Kyle’s hand down from where he was trying to insert his fingers into Rodney’s mouth. “And what exactly do you want?” he asked, looking down at Kyle. “I doubt it’s either attention or food – seeing as how you get more than enough around here.”
Kyle simply giggled and patted Rodney’s chest before snuggling against it.
“You should be proud,” Jillian said with a bit of surprise. “He hasn’t been very personable lately.”
“Terrible twos?” Rodney asked absently.
“I suppose,” she replied. “He’s been wanting his mother more than anyone else lately. And he’s been finicky with his food and gets upset at the slightest provocation.”
“Yep, that sounds like the terrible twos.”
“You aren’t fond of children, are you?” she asked.
“Not really,” he replied as he picked up his bowl and carefully resumed eating. “They tend to get into things and break them, or mess up your notes, or put their sticky hands on everything and render it useless until it can be cleaned – which is usually time consuming. And they don’t listen and get upset when you tell them to do something and it’s just better if I don’t have to deal with them.”
“And, yet, the kids here seem to like you.” She finished drying the bowls and cups and set them to the side of the fire pit.
“They always do.”
Sitting in a half lotus position, she asked, “Don’t you want to have kids of your own?”
“That would infer that I actually want to get married. Which – my long-standing unrequited crush on Lt. Col. Samantha Carter aside – I *do* not want to do.”
Rodney pushed down the niggling sensation that he should admit to his relationship – or whatever it was – with John. While he hadn’t seen any overtly gay relationships or heard anyone talking about it in any context here, there were a few couples he was pretty sure were together. He didn’t want to open a can of worms if he was wrong.
Jillian smiled. “You are a puzzle, Rodney, but one that is worth figuring out, I think.”
Rodney finished the last scrap of his bread. “And it took you only seven months to figure that out?”
She laughed as she took the bowl from Rodney and Kirby stepped through the flap to their quarters.
He smiled upon seeing Rodney’s arms automatically move to cradle a now-sleeping Kyle as soon as his hands were empty. After kissing Jillian on the top of her head, he said, “I see you’ve made a new friend.”
“Not by my own doing, I can assure you,” Rodney replied. “I tend to make people cry.”
“Unintentionally, I hope,” Kirby replied as he sat down.
“Usually,” Rodney replied, absently rubbing Kyle’s back with one hand and Kyle snuggled closer. “I was merely pointing out their faults and I have a tendency to be… abrasive with other people.”
“Well, that’s something you’ll have to work on in your meditation.”
“I don’t get a say in this, do I?” Rodney asked unhappily.
“No. I believe that this is something you need to help you heal, Rodney. While you’re not physically ill, your soul is deeply hurting and this will help you on the road to recovery – much like lancing a boil. And this will indirectly help you physically.”
“Yeah, we’ve already had a discussion about that,” Jillian replied with a smile.
Kelly called from outside, “May I come in?”
“Yes,” Kirby replied.
Kelly ducked his head in. “Feel up to doing something, Rodney?” he asked.
“Sure, but I – ah….” He pointed at Kyle.
Kirby chuckled and leaned over to take Kyle off of Rodney’s lap. “Go on,” he said warmly.
Rodney hopped up and joined Kelly in the common area and found him carrying two long poles. “What’s up?” he asked as he followed him into the caves and down into one of the deeper levels.
“I thought we’d start your staff training today,” Kelly replied easily as they entered the one that had been designated a practice area for staffs. Two other couples were already there and sparring, the percussive rhythm of their staffs hitting slightly syncopated.
Rodney furrowed his brow. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” Kelly replied, handing him one of the poles.
“I swear – between you and Kirby, I’m thinking that you’re mounting a two-pronged attack to beat me into submission and make me more like all of you.”
Kelly laughed as he swung his arms a few times and twirled his pole lazily. “Started you meditating, did he?”
“This morning. Who knew an hour of meditation could be so intense?”
“Not a believer, then?”
“Not normally, no.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Kelly said as he did a few quick stretches.
“You don’t do it?” Rodney asked incredulously as he started mimicking Kelly’s stretches.
“No, I do it. I just mean – I know some of our trading allies who’ve tried and just couldn’t do it. But I think you’d be able to do it and that it would work for you.”
“Yeah, that’s what Kirby and Jillian seem to think,” Rodney replied.
“They’re both a good judge of people. Okay, let’s get started. Fighting with staffs is mostly a matter of thrusting and parrying – offense and defense.” And with a smile, he added, “I’ll take it easy on you this time.”
Kelly swung his staff at Rodney and Rodney instinctively brought his staff up to block it. The staffs hit with a satisfying crack. Rodney smiled inwardly, noting that Ronon’s “lessons” hasn’t been completely fruitless.
Kelly started out slow with him, showing him the different blocking positions. Then he walked him through them in succession, giving Rodney a smile as he blocked each attack in turn.
“Good,” he said when they finished. “Now, let’s see if we can speed this up a bit. Ready?”
“As much as I’ll ever be,” Rodney replied, a little worried at what Kelly meant by ‘speed this up a bit’.
Kelly pushed Rodney through the succession of blocks in quicker and quicker repetitions, forcing him to respond by instinct instead of thinking. Rodney was breathing heavily when they stopped and Kelly grinned.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
“Yeah, well, it helps when you’re used to getting pummeled at home by a large brute who thinks it’s fun,” Rodney gasped.
Kelly’s brow furrowed as he leaned on his staff. “And you allowed him to do this to you?”
“It’s for ‘self-defense’ classes,” Rodney replied, making air quotes. “And it was either that or Teyla and her bantos sticks – which, from what John’s said, I think I’ll stay with Ronon. At least he lets me wear padding.”
“I don’t know if I like your people very much, Rodney.”
“Technically, they’re not my people – well, John is,” Rodney said, going over to a pail of water with a ladle. Carefully sniffing the water, he took a sip before gulping the rest of the contents of the ladle. “We kind of picked up Ronon and Teyla along the way. And normally they’re great – very useful to have around.” He drank another ladleful of water.
“You have spoken highly of the three of them,” Kelly admitted, though Rodney thought it maybe have been a bit grudgingly. “And you and John seemed to be especially close. Were you bonded?”
“Bonded?” Rodney asked, frowning as he went back to Kelly. “No, I don’t think so. We were close – I thought of him as a best friend.”
“What made you change your mind?” Kelly asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you thought of him as a best friend. What changed?”
“Well, I got stuck here, didn’t I?” Rodney asked hotly.
Kelly said nothing, but studied him for a moment before saying, “Let’s get back to work. We’re going to go through the blocks again, but I’m going to mix them up.”
“Oh, great,” Rodney muttered as he grabbed his staff with both hands. “Let the beatings begin.”
When they finally stopped, Rodney sent up a mental “Thank God”. He was sweating and he knew his face was red. Kelly, on the other hand, looked like he had only had a light workout.
“You did really well,” he said with a grin. “Ronon must have taught you something.”
“Apparently,” Rodney replied with a shrug of his eyebrows. He could tell there would be a few spots that would have bruises come morning, but overall he wasn’t going to be as banged up as he had feared. Although, if this was Kelly ‘taking it easy’ on him, he definitely had to worry about future training. Kelly might make Ronon look like a kitten.
After they both grabbed a drink, they went back to Kirby and Jillian’s quarters. Outside, Rodney handed the staff back to Kelly.
“Keep it,” Kelly replied, waving him off. “It’s customary to use the staff your teacher gives you until you become proficient – then you give it back and make your own.”
“Okay,” Rodney replied hesitantly. But that did explain the markings he saw on Kelly’s staff that were missing from his own plain one.
“You did well, Rodney. I’m sure you’ll be making your own staff in no time. We’ll continue tomorrow.”
Rodney nodded once. “Okay. I guess that’s good night, then.”
Kelly gave him a quick nod. “It is. Good night, Rodney.”
Rodney half-expected a pat on the arm or the shoulder – it’s what John would have done, he thought absently, but none was forthcoming as Kelly turned and walked away.
He stared after Kelly for a moment, not sure how to feel. The Laprans were all very verbally open and affirming – quick to praise and compliment. But they were very slow to show physical affection. The only times he had seen them touch was when it was necessary. And, yet, they seemed to have closer relationships than the ones he saw either on Earth or Atlantis – where people were able to touch more freely.
Rodney shook his head and headed inside.
Jillian looked up from where she was working on mending a shirt and smiled. “How did it go?” she asked.
“I’m not dead yet,” Rodney replied with a small smile. “Supposedly, Kelly was only giving me a light beating tonight. He seems to think I have aptitude, though.”
“That’s good,” she said as Rodney placed his staff under his cot.
Rodney sank down onto the cot, suddenly exhausted, and toed off his moccasins before curling up and pulling the blanket over himself. “If anyone needs me, it’d better be for a damn good reason. Otherwise, tell them to wait until morning,” he said before promptly falling asleep, not hearing Jillian’s response.
The next morning brought another grueling meditation session with Kirby. Prior to this, Rodney had always puttered about while Jillian and Kirby were meditating, doing odds and ends to help clean up breakfast and get ready for the rest of the day.
But that free pass was definitely over. Kirby was more relentless than Kate had ever been. She would push, but when it became clear that Rodney wasn’t going to talk about something, she would move on to other topics and come back later. Kirby, on the other hand, kept pushing and pushing one point until Rodney would break, angrily telling him things that he hadn’t told anyone – ever.
And, somehow, Rodney didn’t mind. Of course he minded Kirby digging into him and making him talk about his parents and his grandmother, since that’s what his brain seemed to focus on today, but he didn’t mind the way Kirby did it. Kate, though Rodney didn’t think she realized it – and the other shrinks he had been forced to see over the years – had always been so patronizing in their “And how does that make you feel?” line of questioning that he had trouble forging a bond with them that would ultimately help him. Kirby, on the other hand, seemed happy enough with Rodney telling him what had happened and not in passing judgment – at least not out loud.
When they finished, Rodney took a few deep breaths, again feeling drained.
“You’re doing well, Rodney-kun,” Kirby said with a warm smile as he used the endearment.
“What exactly is the point of all of this?” Rodney asked, slightly huffy and a little bewildered. “What’s the point of having me tell you all these things if you’re not going to write things down and analyze everything, and tell me what’s going on in my brain?”
Kirby studied him for a moment, making Rodney squirm slightly, before calmly answering, “Is this for me to know everything about you, or for you to find peace?”
Rodney stared at him, baffled. Kirby didn’t seem to expect an actual answer, but for Rodney to think about it.
“Now,” Kirby said. “For the rest of today, you are to remain silent. You are not allowed to talk to anyone. You know the others will understand and not find it rude, since it’s one of our regular practices. I know it will help you greatly. We shall repeat this process of meditation and silence for as long as necessary.”
Rodney gaped at Kirby. Revise that, Kirby was definitely more evil than Kate. Rodney tightened his jaw and nodded once sharply.
“Good.” Kirby stood and Rodney followed. “I know you don’t like the idea of this, Rodney, but it will do you good. From what it sounds like, your people have done great things, but at the sacrifice of your own peace. I’m surprised your gods haven’t retreated from your people completely as well.”
The first day was hell on Rodney. He continually forgot that he wasn’t supposed to speak, although everyone around him seemed to know. Every time he uttered so much as a syllable, he was given a reproving look that could’ve withered a cactus. He wasn’t sure if he preferred that or Jillian and Kelly’s method of giving him a friendly swat on the back of his head if he tried to talk.
It took him a full month before he was able to spend a day in complete silence. And it was a month that he didn’t want to repeat. Ever.
It seemed that the less he talked, the more he thought. And the more he thought, the more his mind dredged up, now that he had started down that path. If only Kate could see him now, he thought more than once – telling Kirby things he had never wanted to tell anyone and ending some sessions in tears that he hadn’t let himself release before. In the process of doing so, he grudgingly had to admit that he was feeling better – more centered, more at peace, quieter. And these things scared him. Rodney had become so used to his mind racing, his thoughts going in five different directions at once. He had allowed it because otherwise he would have had to think about things that were better left unthought, but now he was at a loss with what to do with himself.
It seemed that Kirby’s idea of being a silent confessor who gave only the barest hint of absolution was exactly what Rodney needed.
And Kelly didn’t see the silence as a reason to stop Rodney’s staff training. Which, by the end of the month Rodney was grateful for as well. With someone other than Ronon training him, since what Ronon had started him with was somewhat similar, Rodney’s experience grew in leaps and bounds. By the end of the month he was able to give Kelly a run for his money.
“You’re doing well,” Kelly said at the end of a sparring session. “Most people don’t pick up the staff this quickly.”
“I’ve always been a quick learner,” Rodney replied blithely as he took a drink of water. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You know you can,” Kelly replied, taking the ladle from Rodney and taking a drink himself.
“Why is everyone here so friendly?”
“I don’t understand.” Kelly gave Rodney a confused look.
“I mean – sure, back on Atlantis we praised people if they deserved it, but you all seem to go out of your way to do it.”
Kelly shrugged. “It’s just our way of doing it. We realize that we need to do it as a means of survival. If one of us feels unappreciated, then he or she won’t do his or her job and then everyone else will need to pick up the slack and they’ll feel like they’re not being appreciated for what they’re doing and so on.” He smiled, “Besides, we do actually like you. And that’s what friends do, right?”
“I guess so,” Rodney replied as they headed topside, not wanting to burst Kelly’s bubble that *his* friends usually didn’t.
“Kirby, I need to talk to you.”
“Not now, Rodney-kun,” Kirby replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, not even looking up from his mortar and pestle.
“No, it’s not about the kids. I’m over that.” He paused for a second at Kirby’s sharp glare and quickly sat down, automatically crossing his legs. “Well, mostly.”
“Then what is it?” Kirby asked sharply. “I need to get this finished for tomorrow.”
“I know that there’s some sort of huge bazaar happening this month, but I was hoping that at the end of it, you’d let me go home.” Wanting to get it out before Kirby had a chance to interrupt him, Rodney continued on, “I’ve been here a full cycle and you *know* that I’m not a threat to you and neither are my people. If we were, don’t you think it would have happened by now?”
“No,” Kirby replied brusquely and Rodney knew he meant in general and not to the last question.
“Would you and the other elders at least consider it?”
“Rodney-kun,” Kirby’s hands stilled in his lap as he sighed, “The answer is no and you know that. We have been safe here for a long, long time and while we understand that you want to go home, we will not risk the chance of someone taking advantage of your people’s knowledge of our position and now your knowledge of us.”
“Then can I at least send them a message that I’m okay? I promise I won’t encode any secret messages in it for them to come in with guns blazing.”
“No. We’ve been over this.” Kirby’s voice softened as he resumed his work. “You’d better get over to Jean and help her out. Once tomorrow morning comes, you’re on your own.”
“Yes, Kirby,” Rodney replied quietly as he stood and headed out of their quarters, determined to not let his disappointment show.
The next morning came early and started with Kevin pouncing on a still-sleeping Rodney, giggling loudly. Rodney groaned, rolled over onto his back and looked up at Kevin’s mother, Jenna, who was standing over them with a smile.
“The kids are arriving,” she said. “I’ll go start getting them situated. Come on, Kevin.”
Kevin grinned at Rodney and gave him a big kiss on his cheek before scrambling up, elbowing Rodney in the stomach in the process.
Rodney groaned again, rolling onto his stomach. This month was going to be hell.
“So, what are we going to do today?” A boy named Brody asked and twenty-five pairs of eyes looked at him.
“Um, I’m not really sure,” Rodney replied. “What do you guys normally do during the day?”
“Normally, our clan mothers will teach us before lunch,” one of the girls replied. Rodney thought her name was Laura, but he wasn’t sure – that might have been her twin.
“And then we play games in the afternoon,” replied her sister.
“Tell us a story,” a kid he thought was named Michael said.
“I don’t know any of your stories,” Rodney replied.
“How can you not know our stories?” Jennifer asked incredulously. “You’ve been here a whole cycle.”
Rodney shrugged. “I don’t. Well, I don’t know any completely.” A light bulb came on. “I could tell you some of my stories, though – from where I come from.”
The older kids looked at him suspiciously as the younger ones eagerly seated themselves at his feet. “Okay, let’s see.” He wracked his brain for a suitable one, rejecting Vonnegut, Bradbury and Asimov as being over these kids heads. He figured he could get a few days out of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia, depending on how well the kids took to mythical creatures. Same for J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. And he could probably do Star Wars and possibly some of Star Trek, if he carefully edited it. Superheroes were always good. And the good thing about them was that he could easily make up new stories.
“Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together and looking out over his audience – the younger half, which ranged from three to about eight, were already captivated even though he hadn’t even said anything, and the older half, which ranged from nine to twelve or thirteen, were warily contemplating him. “I’ve got a good story for you about four kids – a girl about your ages named Lucy,” he pointed to the smaller kids and they smiled, “a boy about your ages, named Edmund,” he pointed to the older kids, a couple of whom hesitantly smiled, “and their older brother and sister named Lucy and Peter. They had a number of adventures and even helped save the world. What do you think? Want to hear it?”
“YES!” came an enthusiastic chorus.
“How’s it going?” Kelly asked, as he and a couple of mothers ducked into the common area that afternoon.
“It’s going,” Rodney replied with a shrug as he watched the kids running around playing a game that looked a lot like tag. The younger ones were screaming with delight whenever one of the older ones got too close. Not wanting to admit that he was actually enjoying the kids, he changed the subject. “So, what’s up with the difference in the weather?”
Kelly shrugged. “No idea. Seems like they’re enjoying themselves.”
Rodney nodded. “They even liked the story I told them earlier. Some of the older kids promised to start teaching me your stories tonight.”
One of the mothers came back later that evening to check on her children after they had all gone to sleep and she stayed to talk with Rodney for a while. His eyes kept wandering to her hands, which were absently carding through some silk thread before she spun it into a thread on a hand spindle.
“Do you want to learn?” she asked, and Rodney looked up to find her watching him.
“I don’t know,” Rodney replied, eyeing the thread. “I’ve never been good at things like that.”
She looked down at his hands. “I don’t know about that,” she replied. “Your fingers look able enough. Here, just try it.” She moved closer and transferred her work to his lap. She placed the spinner and raw silk in his hands and explained what to do as she guided his hands through the steps. She gave him an encouraging smile as he tried it. The first few times, the thread broke and she carefully corrected him. As she patiently helped him, Rodney found himself slowly catching on, even if it more slowly than he would have liked and she kept having to help him smooth the thread out from being too lumpy and uneven. But, after a while, Rodney found his rhythm. “Good,” she said as she watched him spin the thread for a few minutes without any mistakes. She got up to check on her children again before bidding Rodney ‘good night’ and leaving the silk with him.
Rodney watched her go and then turned his attention back to the silk. It felt good to have something for his hands to do, even if it meant his mind was still able to be aware of its surroundings. But for once, his mind was quiet. Rodney let out a relaxed sigh. This month may not be so bad after all.
Continue to Part 5
