(no subject)

[nny]

Stargates shape your thoughts around them, enough that it's difficult to think about anything else afterwards because you can't remember which things felt like logic before you knew about them. Rodney's convinced that he'll never win the Nobel prize because he can't remember how to think about without-stargates; at least they bought Atlantis away from the members of the expedition for enough that it won't be a problem that his brain doesn't work any more. (His heart works, certainly, although he suspects the pain is more that it's noteable by its absence.) Stargates weigh on the mind like an inaccurate analogy, like a lead weight on a rubber sheet; thoughts of John (and, now, John's boyfriend) are much the same. You can't remember which things felt like friendship before you knew about this.