Rodney sighed as he slipped into his quarters, taking off his shoes before acknowledging that Carson was sitting on the bed.
"Let me see your arm."
Instantly, Rodney shook his head, like he had the day before and the day before that. Once Carson had been back on his feet, he had begun hounding Rodney to examine the wounds that he had never shown to anyone. No one in medical had seen to the injuries and no one seemed to care that he hadn't asked for treatment.
Needless to say, Carson was worried about his friend. The concern had grown each time he'd been denied and finally Carson had talked to John, asking him to help.
John's hands came down on Rodney's shoulders, prodding him forward. There was surprise on Rodney's face, "I'm fine!" He pulled up his sleeve and waved his arm around, "See? It's all taken care of! Now, would you please…"
"No." John answered, "Let the doc see your arm."
Rodney continued to resist.
"Rodney…" Carson moved toward him and with one hand, grasped the injured forearm lightly but firmly. He knew Rodney wasn't a masochist and wouldn't keep jerking the limb about.
Between the two men, they managed to get Rodney into a chair and Carson began to gently remove the bandage. The blood had soaked through two of the layers, and had ultimately gotten stuck to the healing wounds.
Carson reached for the supplies he'd brought with him and he made short work of the problem, allowing him a first glimpse at the Genii's handiwork.
Five deep cuts laid across Rodney's arm, two inches long. Then Carson noticed how careful Rodney was being about his shirt. The sleeve had been pushed to his elbow, and Rodney wasn't letting it move up any further.
Grabbing his scissors, Carson nodded at John, who held Rodney's upper arms and then slit the garment to expose the skin beneath with expert ease. Rodney didn't even realize what was happening until Carson began muttering in Gaelic.
Several small lacerations laid there. They appeared newer than the ones from the attack, and the one closest to Rodney's elbow emitted a few droplets of blood.
"I…I…" He searched for something to say, something to explain it away, but there was nothing.
"Rodney." John whispered, "Did you do this to yourself?"
He didn't answer.
Carson set to cleaning the cuts and covered them with gauze before gathering his supplies and standing up. He knew he had to inform Elizabeth of what he had discovered but there was no easy way to tell Rodney that.
Rodney put his back up against his work to block out everything else. Getting the Atlantis crew back into their routine had put the off-world missions on hold meaning that Rodney could only work on what was in his lab and that was limited seeing as he only had a weak ability to use the ATA gene.
There was little hope of Rodney going to see Heightmeyer without a direct order and even then he would resist, most likely feeding the psychologist lies and half-truths.
Carson sat back on his heels and looked into the blue eyes.
The sadness seemed to permeate into Rodney's soul.