It was June sixteenth.

Rush stared down at the console - looking but not seeing - trying to force himself to concentrate, force himself to work. The Ancient coding he was looking over blurred together, and what little he could make himself understand just wasn't syncing up.

It was June sixteenth.

"Damn it," Rush muttered, turning away from the screen. The science team looked up - surprised, maybe worried - but Rush was never one to assuage others' concerns.

"Dr. Rush?" said Park as he budged past her. "Where are you going?"

He grabbed his notebook, turned back to the console and saved all his work. He didn't bother transferring to his laptop.

"Dr. Rush!" called Brody.

"I'm on break," he snarled, and left the Apple Core.

…

"Well, shit," said Brody.

It was June sixteenth, and Dr. Rush was elbows-deep in storage boxes, driven not by rationale or logic but by instinct that had been ingrained in him over the years. A scattered medley of broken parts and spare metal littered the ground around him. Empty crates were stacked to his left.

Nothing was right.

Dr. Rush kept looking, though, never allowing himself time to stop and think. Just this once - just this once - thought was not his ally. This time, if he thought, he suspected his mind might fall apart.

But finally the last box was empty and there was still nothing - and how had he let it come this far? How had he put it off so long? He never put this off.

Rush sighed and stood.

He'd have to check the other storage rooms.

Colonel Young scooped the first-and last-bite of the banana gruel Becker had handed him into his mouth. He wrinkled his nose at the taste and casually brushed the bowl to the side of the table. From across the room, T.J. caught his eye and gave him a disapproving look.

Colonel Young refused to acknowledge it, but forced down another bite. When he looked up, T.J. was walking across the room towards him. Young leaned back, chin on his chest as she came to stand beside him.

"I know, I know," the Colonel said before she could speak. "I should eat."

"Actually," T.J. interrupted, "That's not what I was going to say."

Young's eyebrows raised.

"Oh?" he asked. "Then what?"

"I was going to ask you if you'd seen Rush lately."

Colonel Young sat up straighter. "No…why?"

T.J. slid into the chair across from him. "I haven't seen him at breakfast orat lunch."

"Well, he's not exactly a social butterfly."

"But he's supposed to be eating regularly. I asked Becker if Rush had come in for his rations and he told me he hadn't seen him in almost four days."

"You want me to talk to him?" Young asked.

"If you can," T.J. said with hopeful eyes.

"I'll talk to him," Young nodded. He quickly pushed himself halfway out of his seat, but T.J. laid a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"Eat first," she said sternly.

The ghost of a smile passed over Young's features. "Yeah. Right."

T.J. smiled affectionately, then turned and headed out the door. Young eyed his food and sighed.

"IfI have to eat this slop, damn it, Rush does too."

Colonel Young pressed the release button and stepped inside the Apple Core. He stopped just inside and looked around. The science team milled around inside, each one stopping their work to watch the Colonel. The Colonel swore under his breath. Rush was missing.

"Where's Rush?" the Colonel demanded.

"Um…" Eli managed. "Taking a break?"

"Did he say where he was going?" the Colonel said.

"No," Brody answered. "He just walked out."

The Colonel sucked in a breath, willing himself to be patient. Then he nodded to the team members and stalked out of the room.

Where could Rush be? Young checked his quarters and the observation deck and found them empty. He checked all the least-popular sections of the ship. He checked everything he'd ever labeled off limits.

Nothing.

He was on his way back to his own quarters (the least likely place for Rush to be, and therefore the first place he should have checked) when he passed a storage room and heard a noise inside.

A clang.

Suspicious.

Young doubled back several steps and paused for a second just in front of the door. His hand came down on the release button - with a hiss, the heavy door slid open.

And there was Rush, kneeling on the floor and elbows-deep in storage boxes. He didn't look up when the door opened, just kept feverishly sorting through the spare bits of metal and unneeded supplies from Icarus.

"Rush," said Young. The scientist froze.

"Colonel Young," he said eventually, voice even. He reached into the box before him, removed a broken flashlight, and set it on the ground. "I was under the impression you had work to do today."

Young briefly considered telling Rush that he was, in fact, a lot of work, but realized belatedly that saying so would also imply he was doing Rush.

"TJ sent me after you," he said instead, watching Rush's movements become a bit more measured. "She says you haven't eaten in four days."

Rush hesitated for a moment, his hands hovering over something before him. Then he upended the box and swept the contents aside, reaching for a nearby crate.

"You wanna tell me why that is?" Young asked.

Rush grabbed two very different parts and compared them for a moment, then contemplated a paperback copy of Wormhole X-treme. He tossed the latter behind him and it skidded to a stop at Young's feet.

"Rush," the Colonel said, getting steadily more irritated.

"What?" Rush snapped.

"I'm talking to you. It would be appreciated if you'd at least turn around."

Rush didn't respond. His movements got steadily more frantic as the seconds ticked by, until he was practically tearing every box and crate apart. Young watched as long as he could, then he couldn't take it anymore.

"Rush!" he said again, stepping forward. His hand caught Rush's shoulder and he tugged, putting the scientist off balance and whirling him around. Young held him firm before he could turn around again, and knelt so they were face-to-face.

"Rush -" he started, and trailed off. Rush's eyes were bright and rimmed with red.

Silence.

"You've been crying," Young said simply, disbelieving. Rush tried to yank away, but the colonel held tight.

For a moment, they just stared, quietly challenging each other. Then Young eased back and relaxed his grip, coming to his senses.

"Look, it's none of my business," he decided, trying to ignore Rush's surprised look at being left alone. "Just … give us a little notice, OK? The science team is going crazy."

Rush nodded.

"What are you doing, anyway?" asked Young, gesturing to the scattered parts. Rush looked at them like he was really seeing them for the first time, his features assembling into a rueful grimace.

"I was -" His voice broke. Young looked at him sharply, but the scientist was already going on. "I was looking for something."

"Something you lost?"

"No. A -"

Rush hesitated, looking down, and Young almost let the mounting panic in his chest take over.

I should leave, he thought. I've got no business here. I've got no business seeing this.

I should leave.

"A present," Rush whispered, voice giving out. "For Gloria."

Then before Young knew it, Rush had pulled his knees up to his chest and was sitting with his hand pressed against his mouth, hot tears forcing their way from his eyes. Uncomfortably - and sickeningly numb - Young sat down beside him, his arm going around Rush's shoulders before he could stop it.

"It's June sixteenth," Rush managed. "The day she died."

Imperceptibly, Young pulled Rush closer. The scientist's head dropped down so it was almost on his shoulder - Young could feel him trembling.

"Every year, I - I'd come out of my … fucking self-pity long enough to leave her something. Like she did with her father's grave. I'd leave her a present. Only thing I ever fucking did."

His breath hitched. Young moved his hand up and down across Rush's back, making slow circles. Then Rush let out a choked sound - a bitter, laughing sob - and hid his face.

"And now I'm trying to find her something," he said. "Something for this year. Only thing I ever fucking did. And I can't - I can't -"

The trembling turned to shaking and then Rush's whole body was shuddering with quiet sobs as he realized just how fruitless his annual gesture was at this point. He couldn't get her anything. Couldn't do the one thing - the one small thing - that had made up for his absence at her death. It was one small thing, one inconsequential thing, but it was all he could do to make it better, all he could do to say sorry. And now he couldn't even do that.

He couldn't visit her grave with any presents he made or gathered here.

And it was all because of him.

It was his fault.

Young held him close and stared ahead at the wall as Rush sobbed and clutched the colonel's jacket. Gradually, the shaking waned and Rush's tears ran out. The scientist collapsed bonelessly against him, drained and tired.

"Come on," Young said, nudging Rush away as gently as he could. "I'm putting you on bed rest. You need the sleep."

Rush made no protest. Young heaved them both up off the floor and led the scientist away, out of the storage room. They leaned against each other through the empty corridors - Young found himself silently thanking God that Rush's quarters were so secluded. In a more aware state, he was certain Rush would be thankful as well.

When they reached Rush's quarters, he left the other man lying on the bed and turned to leave, facing the dark hallways with a new weariness he hadn't had before.

"Colonel?" said Rush weakly. Young turned to face him, unable to make out more than Rush's basic form. They remained unspeaking for a moment, both quiet as Rush struggled for words.

"It's fine," said Young eventually. "Really."

Rush didn't respond. Glinting in the darkness, Young thought he saw more tears.

"Get some sleep," he said, and closed the door.