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The next couple of days went by for Rodney in a pain-filled haze. He'd awaken in agony, someone would dose him up with medicine, feed him and help him use the facilities and then the medication would drag him back to blissful unconsciousness. On the third day though, Rodney awoke to discover that while his head was still killing him, he no longer quite wanted to immediately die. He supposed that was improvement as he groaned in pain and rolled onto his side. That proved to be a mistake as moving his head made him feel dizzy and nauseous.
"You're up," he heard and Rodney risked slitting open an eye to see John regarding him, a faint furrow of worry marring his forehead.
"Yeah," Rodney croaked. His mouth felt gluey and nasty.
"How's your head?" John asked quietly, reaching out and brushing his fingertips over Rodney's forehead.
"Awful," Rodney moaned. John's fingers felt cool on his brow and they distracted him just a bit from the pain. It was nice.
"I'll get you something for that," John replied and got up. Rodney watched with blurred vision as John went to the fireplace, picked up a kettle warming by a small fire and poured water from the kettle into a mug sitting on Rodney's bedside table. John set the kettle back on the hearth and then stirred the contents of the mug with a spoon before setting down on the side of Rodney's bed.
"Can you sit up or do you need help?" John asked with a tilt to his head.
Rodney gave the question serious consideration and did a test lift of one hand. It felt like trying lift the entirety of the castle. "Help," he said finally.
John set aside the mug and levered an arm under Rodney's back and lifted him up. Rodney helped as much as he could, but the effort had him shaking and he felt John's arm muscles bulge underneath him as they took the greater part of his weight. John quickly stuffed a number of pillows behind Rodney's head and shoulders and then lowered him back into a seated position. All the motion made Rodney's head feel like it was going to explode and he was profoundly embarrassed that he'd made whimpering noises the entire time despite his best effort not to.
John grabbed the mug he'd prepared and wrapped Rodney's hands around it. "Drink this up, it'll make your head feel better," he ordered as he lifted Rodney's hands and the mug toward his mouth.
Rodney got a disorienting feeling that this had happened a few times already before he obediently drank down the contents. He made a face at the gods awful taste. "Gah."
The corner of John's mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. "Yeah, that stuff does taste pretty vile." He took the mug away from Rodney and placed it on the table. "How about some food to get rid of the nasty taste?"
"Please," Rodney croaked. He was starving in addition to having the headache from the hells and he had no idea why. "What happened?"
John came back from the hearth with a tray of food and another mug of something that hopefully wasn't more icky medicine. "Well," John said lightly as he set the tray on Rodney's lap and then sat on the edge of the bed. "Apparently being one of the most powerful Mindreaders in the kingdom wasn't good enough for you, so you went and spontaneously triggered four more Gifts so you could lord the superiority of your gigantic brain over the rest of us."
"What?" Rodney squeaked, jerking upright. This did not help his head at all and he moaned and dropped back onto his pillows.
"Sit still and eat your honeycake," John ordered, pointing to the cake.
"But," Rodney started and was shocked into silence when John laid two fingers over his lips.
"Eat. Your honeycake," John said firmly and then suited words to actions by removing his fingers from Rodney's lips, picking up the cake and aiming at Rodney's mouth. Still flummoxed, Rodney obediently opened his mouth and took a bite. It was delicious, and Rodney was distracted by the fact that it did actually get rid of the nasty taste still lingering in his mouth.
"Better," John said, obviously pleased as he sat the cake slice back down on the plate. "Now you try that on your own while I do my best to fill you in on what happened."
Rodney swallowed his mouthful and picked up the cake himself with shaking hands. "More Gifts?" he asked as he managed to lift the cake to his mouth and take a bite.
John leaned back and put his hands behind him. "Yep. Seems when you started playing the harp, you managed to trigger the opening of several Gifts at once. It's pretty rare that a Herald will manifest so many at once, but spontaneous triggerings have occurred before. Your head is killing you because you drastically overextended yourself in the process."
"Whish Giffs?" Rodney mumbled through a second mouth full of cake.
"Ew, Rodney. Swallow before you talk," John drawled back, one eyebrow cocked at him. "And you have, in addition to the Mindspeaking that you already knew about, Bardic, Firestarting, Fetching and one of the more unusual types of Sight."
Bardic? If his head didn't still ache he would have slapped his forehead. Of course he had to develop that particular Gift now. "Is the Sight thing why you look blurry?" Rodney asked before taking another bite of cake. He'd blinked his eyes several times at this point but the blurriness - or whatever it was - hadn't resolved itself. There seemed to be a bright wash of, of something that overlaid John's body, slightly obscuring him.
John blinked in surprise. "Probably. I don't have it myself. Try grounding and centering and see if that shuts it down."
The medicine had finally started to work its way into Rodney's system and his head wasn't pounding quite as hard as it had been, so he closed his eyes and gave John's suggestion a try. After doing the exercise precisely as he'd been taught, he opened his eyes to see if it worked. It had – in a fashion - because he could see John more clearly now, but there were still glimpses of – whatever it was – that he still caught with the corners of his eyes. "Um, sort of. Yes."
John shrugged with one shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. "Yeah, from what we understand, that happens with that kind of Sight. It doesn't occur frequently among the Heralds so I don't really know a lot about it. It apparently comes in useful sometimes when trying to locate living things though, so..." he trailed off with another shrug. He then pointed at Rodney's half eaten cake. "Eat."
Rodney polished off the rest of the cake while he thought about what he'd just been told. He was not comforted by his conclusions. "I'm dangerous, aren't I?"
John snorted. "A gopher hole is dangerous to the unwary, Rodney."
Rodney knotted his hands together, noting absently that they'd stopped shaking quite so badly. "Gopher holes don't blow up people like Firestarters do. I've read about Lavan Firestorm."
John sighed and ran a hand over his ridiculous hair. "Rodney...look, there were mistakes made with Lavan Firestorm that we're not going to make with you. As soon as you're well, you're going to be trained on how to properly use it. You'll be fine." He then raised one eyebrow. "Unless you're saying you're not smart enough to learn how to control it..."
Rodney straightened up on his pillows indignantly. "I'll have you know that I'm the smartest person in this and any other kingdom you'd care to..."
"Then you've got nothing to worry about, genius," John cut in smoothly, smirking at him. He then tilted his head significantly towards the tray. "Now, you gonna eat the rest of that or am I going to have to hand feed you again?"
Rodney gave him one his more acidic looks and lifted the spoon that sat in the bowl. It proved to be a chicken and barley stew, dotted with the occasional bright orange slice of carrot. As he drew the spoon close to his mouth his nose caught the savory smell of it and his stomach gurgled urgently, reminding him of his hunger again. He found himself polishing it and the slab of buttered bread on the tray off in very short order.
"Need more?" John asked as Rodney set the spoon aside.
Rodney blinked, starting to feel just a little foggy headed from the medicine. "Um, no. I think I'm full. But if you could move, I need to ah, you know..." he said, making vague motions to indicate that he intended to relieve himself.
John grinned, got up and and tossed aside the coverings on Rodney's legs just as Rodney moved them over the side of the bed. "Okay, I'll haul you up on three," he said, ignoring Rodney's squeak of outrage and grabbing hold of his arms. "One...two...three!"
And the world whirled unsettlingly as Rodney suddenly found himself on his feet. He staggered and then felt the firm bulk of John's chest stop his forward motion and an arm wrapped around his shoulders. He blinked a bit until the world settled. "Don't...don't do that again," he said feebly.
"Sorry, buddy, but that really was the best way to get you up." John said in a tone that was actually conciliatory, much to Rodney's surprise.
"I could have done it myself!" Rodney protested, ignoring how shaky his legs felt.
John rolled his eyes. "Rodney, you're barely able to stand on your own. Don't think that I can't feel you shaking here. Just let me give you a hand, okay?"
His knees were feeling disconcertingly wobbly, so Rodney gave in, grumpily saying, "Okay, fine. But only because otherwise I'll freeze to death while I stand here in a shirt thin enough to read through and my loose shorts arguing with you."
"It's still summer, Rodney," John countered, his voice filled with good humor as he maneuvered himself so that his shoulder was under Rodney's arm and his arm was firmly wrapped around Rodney's waist. "Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can lay back down."
Rodney managed to shuffle his way to the facilities and, after a brief argument with John, took care of his bladder on his own as he leaned heavily against a convenient wall. Fortunately he didn't need to do anything else because he wasn't sure if he sat down that he would be able to get back up on his own and he didn't need that particular embarrassment in his life right now. John guided him back to the bed and Rodney fell back into it, far more exhausted than he really thought he ought to be. "Should I be this tired?" he asked worriedly.
"Reaction headaches and the medicine will do that to you," John replied as he fussed with the covers. "I wouldn't worry about it."
"But something could be wrong with my brain," Rodney protested. "You said that getting a lot of Gifts doesn't happen to Heralds. I could be horribly damaged! I, I could be a threat to the kingdom!"
John rolled his eyes. "Your precious brain is fine, Rodney," He replied, tucking the covers under Rodney a little too tightly. "And if you were a danger to the kingdom, Cadman would have already let us know about that."
Rodney squirmed to loosen the covers and then reached out to Cadman. Is that true? he demanded.
Yes, Rodney, you're going to be fine. Carson promised us that. And that big old brain of yours is no more of a danger to the kingdom that it already was, Gifts or not, Cadman replied. He felt some amusement tinge her voice, but the greater feeling was of relief that he was feeling better.
You...you were worried about me? Rodney asked, feeling oddly touched that she actually seemed to care.
He felt a brief feeling of shock from her. Of course I was, Rodney! You scared us. Gifts are supposed to open slowly, not all at once like that. Your reaction headache has lasted for days. A lot of people were worried about you. She paused and then her voice took on a sly tone. Especially John.
Rodney frowned in puzzlement at the change in her tone. Well of course John was worried. I collapsed in his quarters and ruined the good time he was having with his friend. Rodney's gut fizzed with resentment at the memory of John's friend Lorne being there when Rodney had wanted to share his good news with John. And that man had been the one to hand Rodney a harp which in turn had caused his recent illness. Rodney's frown deepened.
"What did Cadman say to you this time to piss you off?" John asked as he sat on the corner of Rodney's bed.
Rodney startled at the question and drew his attention away from Cadman, who chuckled. "What? Oh, nothing, just thinking." He yawned and crossed his arms under his blanket. "I suppose your friend Lorne has left?" Rodney certainly hoped so.
John grinned at him. "Nope, and I have you to thank for that. Your collapse brought Teyla over, and once she knew he was back in Haven, she managed to guilt him into staying for a while."
Fabulous, thought Rodney sourly. Cadman's amusement increased, much to his annoyance. What's so funny, you hell-horse?
Nothing , she replied merrily. Another wave of tiredness swept over him as the medication took full effect and she then said more gently, Time for you to take another nap. I'm glad you're feeling better. Sleep well.
And as his eyes slid shut of their own accord, he distantly heard John say, "Nighty-night, buddy. I'll be here if you need anything." Then a warm hand settled on his thigh and he drifted off, feeling strangely safe and secure.