Rising Above

He was so sore. His ass was on fire, and he could feel the bruises on his legs already forming. The muscles in his thighs twinged.



Sheppard turned on the bedside lamp and rolled out of the bed. "I'll have Henderson set you up with some new clothes."



Rodney feigned sleep in the musty bed while Sheppard went into his personal bathroom. Rodney still tasted bile in his throat.



As he drifted between sleep and consciousness, he dreamed about holding his wife close to him for her warmth. Flee-ridden blankets, the cat purring and digging its claws into his thigh, and Cleya already up and talking to Casta in the crib. His revelry was cut short.



"Wakey, wakey!" Sheppard toweled his hair and nudged Rodney. "Grab a shower. Today I want you to wear my clothes. It'll help you look less like a geeky scientist. Henderson will help you today with getting situated. There's aspirin in the bathroom. Take it easy and study the archives. Carter wants you to be able to work in the labs by Thursday." Sheppard dressed himself and kissed Rodney on the lips. I'll see you for dinner in the mess at seven." It wasn't a request.



When Sheppard left, he felt comfortable enough to leave the safety of the blankets. The bathroom was larger than he remembered from last night. Sheppard had a Jacuzzi as well as a shower.



Rodney tried to clean off the blood as best he could last night, but the shower tiles soon turned light crimson under the spray. It was unnerving to say the least to be bleeding from such an intimate orifice. He sobbed as he washed himself in the luxuriously hot water, letting the tears mix with the blood. The towel was soft and warm. He found the aspirin above the sink. There was also a razor, shaving cream, bandages, "Aqua Velva", gauze, alcohol, cue-tips, spermicide, condoms, cotton balls, Viagra, "Slick Man", chap stick, lotion, toothpaste, and two toothbrushes.



Such extravagances seemed so hollow at the price of his freedom. He shaved and put alcohol on his anus with a cotton ball. He worried that he would begin bleeding again in Sheppard's shorts. He packed cotton balls and toilet paper between his crack hoping it was enough to catch the blood.



He found a set of Sheppard's clothes and dressed slowly. The boots were far more comfortable than his old shoes, but the green BDU jacket was too big, and it made him feel like a child in his father's clothes. It smelled like laundry soap and Sheppard. He found an extra set of sheets in the closet and thought it a good idea to change the bed. There was blood and semen smeared between the sheets. He was embarrassed at the thought of taking them to the laundry.



He wrapped the bottom sheet and the bloody towel in a tight bundle inside the top sheet and remade the bed. He went back into the bathroom and brushed his teeth with the new toothbrush still in the wrapper.



The door knocked.



Rodney spit and went back to the main room. "Who is it?"



"Henderson, sir. I am to escort you to the mess."



Rodney opened the door. "Um, hi, um. I have some laundry to take care of. Um, is there like a laundry mat here or something?"



"Sir, the colonel's room is cleaned daily by the maintenance staff. If you will come with me, sir?"



Great, so the whole cleaning crew will know. They walked to the elevator.



"Have you eaten?"



"Yes, sir." Rodney was not going to get much out of him.



Do you know what he did to me last night? Rodney shouted in his mind. The elevator door opened, and they started out.



"Please, slow down a bit," Rodney said meekly. The airman slowed. I was raped!



Rodney scanned the mess hall and saw no one familiar. The thought of sitting made him ache. He got in line and grabbed an apple and a cup of coffee. He went back to the airman. "I'll eat in the library."



"Sir, I am taking you to the supply room first."



"Okay. You don't have to call me sir."



"Yes, sir, I do."



"Oh," said Rodney as they walked into the elevator again. He dropped the apple into the leg pocket of Sheppard's pants.



"The quartermaster is not available to assist you, but the colonel has allocated three pairs of clothes and one pair of boots to you." They slowly walked to a door labeled "Supplies". "Sir, the supply room is shared with the archeological storage area. Do not touch anything that is not clothing." The airman opened the door and closed it behind Rodney. The room smelled terribly of cigarette smoke.



"Who's there! No one is allowed in here without my permission! Get out!" The voice came from behind a high shelf of black boots.



"Um, I-I'm new. The airman guy said that the quartermaster wasn't here. He told me to get clothes. Sorry, I didn't know."



"You American?"



"Canadian."



"Leave the lad alone, Radek," came a soft second voice. The two men revealed themselves. One was thin, long-haired, unshaven, and wore glasses. The other man had a dark, neatly trimmed beard, and short hair. "I'm Dr. Beckett and this is Dr. Zelenka." He offered Rodney a cigarette.



He turned it down, and Zelenka took it instead. “What are you in for?” asked Zelenka.



“In for?”



“Why did they take you away from Canada? Did you publish something they liked?” He lit the cigarette and inhaled it deeply.



“It wasn't like that. They offered to fly me down for an interview, and I got the job. I'm not sure what the job is, but I'm an astrophysicist.”



The men looked at each other. “They must be trying to find a way to the other 'gates,” said Zelenka.



“'Gates as in more than two?”



“He's an astrophysicist as well. I'm an MD.” Rodney took notice of the avoidance of his question. “He had a theory on black holes that they liked and lured him out of Prague with promises of a research grant. I was cloning sheep in a lab in Edinburgh until I found a mutation in the human genome. I had no idea it was important until the Americans discovered it and asked me to do some humanitarian aid.”



“Sure, make it sound like you didn't come here for the money like the rest of us.” He motioned to Rodney. “Join us. We're discussing the finer categories of European cuisine.” He led them back to the corner of the supply room. “Pull up a box.”



“I have to go with the airman outside. He's waiting for me.”



Beckett said, “I'll tell 'em to bugger off,” and went to the door.



“Where in Canada do you come from?”



“Originally from a small suburb outside of Vancouver.”



“Isn't that where they have the freezing summers?”



“Yeah, after the fall out from the Korwitz bomb. But I've been in Washington state for the past six years. My wife's American, and we taught at the university.” Just standing was beginning to be almost unbearable for Rodney. He doubted how much longer he could carry the conversation.



Beckett was back. “Have a seat, lad.”



“I'd prefer to stand for now.” He'd probably start crying if he sat down.



“Did they tell you that there were hundreds of other candidates for your position?” asked Zelenka.



“Um, yeah.”



“That's a game of theirs. Make you think you're replaceable. Take it from us; you are more valuable than they say. If you're here, you're one of the smartest people in your field.”



“After you,” joked Beckett.



“Naturally.”



Rodney was confused and he really did not need to think how he hadn't have needed to submit to Sheppard last night. “I should probably get back to the archives.”



“Right. I'll help you find what you're looking for,” offered Beckett. “Radek, you should probably get the measurements for the Ancient mirror and get back to the lab.”



Beckett loaded Rodney's arms with blue, green, and black pants and jackets, three black t-shirts, three pairs of black socks, three pairs of underwear, and a pair of black boots. “Never wear your pants tucked into your boots unless you're off-world. That way people can tell you apart from the soldiers, not that there's much risk of that. Ya look half starved.”



“Not much to go around when you're not American.”



“Ach. We'll get you fattened up in no time. Why don't ya undress and try the pants on before you take them.” He saw the panic cross Rodney's face. He whispered, “Are ya hurt?”



“I-I should get this stuff back to the room.”



“Is it Sheppard?” Again, no answer. “Aye, ya look his type. Listen, you're not the only one who goes through this kinda thing at this place. After the war, I guess people began to loose respect for each other.”



Rodney clutched the clothes to his chest. “I'm, um, god . . . How do I say this?”



“Take your time.”



“I am, um. I'm still blee-” his voice cracked. “Bleeding.” He hid his face behind the shirts and sobbed silently.



“Okay. I'm going to take you to the infirmary. Radek can have your new clothes sent over. Set them down here. Alright, let's take is slow.”



Rodney felt safe and protected by the Scot's voice. He never would have agreed to go with the stranger if he weren't in so much pain and if Beckett weren't so kind. They walked gingerly into the infirmary and into a secluded examining room with four beds. “I want to go to the bathroom first.”



“That's fine.” Beckett showed him a bed. “Come sit here when you're ready.”



Rodney took the red cotton balls out of the underwear and flushed them down the infirmary's toilet.



Beckett was setting a gown on the bed when Rodney returned. He pulled the curtains closed around the bed. “Get changed into this, and I'll get things ready.”



“I've never had to do this.” Rodney needed to say something, but what he said sounded so pretentious.



“I've done it more than I'd like to admit. I'll be as gentle and quick as possible,” he said and went outside the curtain.



Rodney undressed and put on the examining gown. He slid under the blanket on the bed. “Okay.” He wasn't sure he had said it loud enough, but Beckett opened the curtain, holding metal stirrups. He attached them to the bed before leaving and returning with a tray of medical equipment.



Rodney's heart was pounding. Beckett put latex gloves over his hands with a loud snap. This shouldn't be happening to him!



Beckett squeezed his hand. “You'll do fine. Open your mouth for me.” A flashlight was shown into his mouth. “Did he use your mouth?”



“No.”



“Your throat is irritated.”



“I threw up.”



“Are you still nauseous?”



“Not really. Loss of appetite, though.”



“That's not uncommon.”



“Is this bruising on your wrists causing you discomfort?”



“Some.”



Beckett adjusted the gown and looked down Rodney's back and then his front. “I'll give you some cream for the bite. Those tend to heal slowly. Okay, scoot as far down the bed as you can. A little farther. Little more. Good.” Rodney felt like he was going to fall off the bed. Beckett guided his feet into the stirrups. “Take deep calming breaths.” He pulled the blanket up a bit and adjusted a lamp between his legs. He felt more exposed at that moment than when he was naked in front of Sheppard.



He kept hearing Sheppard's voice telling him to “breath” and “does it feel good when I touch you here?”.



“Did you assist him? Adjust your body to his movements?”



“He held my legs around him.”



“So you were on your back?”



“Mm-hum.”



“I can see those bruises on your legs. They should heal just fine. I'm going to start working between your legs now.” He felt wet gauze cleaning him.



“Did you clean this with anything?”



“In the shower. Then I- aww, ow!”



“Sorry.”



“Some alcohol. But it keeps bleeding.”



“You shouldn't have been walking so much. Did he use any lubrication?”



“Yeah. A kind of oily stuff.”



“Good. Okay, this is the hard bit. Take some deep breaths. Good.” A finger went in and Rodney screamed. “Sorry, I know.” It hurt worse than with Sheppard. “I need to fell what's torn. Okay, I'm done. You'll need some stitches. I'll give you a shot to numb you up.”



Rodney was trembling.



“Here's the shot.”



“Ow!” He put the blanket over his legs.



“It'll take about fifteen minutes to kick in. Have you had breakfast?” He swiveled his stool to Rodney's side.



“A sip of coffee. I have an apple in my pocket.”



“When we're done, I will give you a list of foods you can eat. No coffee or fruit. You'll have to stick to mostly broth. I'm going to inform Sheppard that you are off limits for two weeks. You are not to have intercourse for a minimum of five days. Use the antibacterial cream I'm going to give you three times a day. I'm also going to give you a cushion for sitting as well as this.” He held a clear tube. “Don't use it until after the five days. This is lubricant, and I want you to keep it applied to you at all times. Sheppard is not going to wait the full two weeks, nor is he going to worry about preparing you. He won't tell you when he wants you and he won't ask. Let me know when you run out. This isn't a pleasant prospect, but the more you keep him occupied with your mouth, the less he'll be wanting to use your backside. It's also easier on you, and him actually, performing anal intercourse with you on your hands and knees and him behind you.”



He couldn't believe a doctor was actually suggesting these disgusting things. Rodney sighed in defeat. “What about diseases? We didn't use anything. Am I going to give something to my wife?”



“No. Everyone at the base is screened and cleaned. She has nothing to worry about but taking it slow with you.”



“Why me? Why does he do these disgusting things?”



He moved back between Rodney's legs, pushing the blanket up again. “Ach, who knows? Maybe he wasn't nursed long enough as a babe, but they are all like that. Kowalski, Jackson, Lorne, Carter. Can you feel this?”



“Carter?”



“She's one ah the worst.”



“I don't believe you. O'Neill is hurting her, too.” Rodney could feel ghostly movement as Beckett worked.



“Smitten with her, are ya? Aye, she is beautiful and charming. Remember what Radek was telling you? They play mind games. They're all a bunch of conniving, malicious fucks.”



“I don't want to hear any more about it.”



“At least remember this, don't trust Americans. Alright, ya have about four stitches. I'll be needing to take them out on Monday. Try not to get them wet. Flush the area with alcohol after you do your business and come straight to the infirmary if they rip.” He pulled the blankets back over his legs. He took off his gloves and lit a cigarette.



“Am I done?”



“Aye.” He stepped outside the curtains.



Rodney dressed gently and quickly, adjusting to the numbness. Beckett was making him so confused. He knew what he saw in Carter's office. No one pretends something like that, but he wanted to trust Beckett.



He sent Rodney to the library with a goody-bag of rape remedies.



Reviews are greatly appreciated. I won't hold you hostage with this fic, so if I get zero reviews, I'm cool. Just know that my work can only improve with criticizm. This story is one of the least reviewed and least read fic's of mine, and I would like to know why. I personlly believe this story is my best to date, but the statistics don't lie. Thank you!