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Rodney dreams of knives.
It’s a small mercy, really, that John falls into his other regular nightmare, because Rodney wouldn’t know how to look him in the eye again if he’d seen the knives, seen Kolya and his henchmen wielding them, slicing into Rodney’s skin over and over, deeper and deeper, until pain and terror are what’s left of him.
The whale is embarrassing, to say the least, but somehow John knowing he still dreams about the knife, when the mark Kolya left on his arm has faded into nothing but a faint imprint, feels like it would be worse.