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Almost
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Rating: Mature themes
Category: Angst (Rodney/John)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!
Summary: “Oh, you’re awake. Thank god.”
“Were you lecturing me while I was unconscious?”
When the piece of shrapnel pierced the hull of the limping jumper and hit John Sheppard in the side, he had a moment to think, that should have hurt more, before he was being manhandled out of the pilot chair, Rodney babbling incoherently and frantically all the while.
He was braced up against a broad chest and figured it had to be Ronon and then Teyla came into his line of sight, talking softly and locking his gaze with her own. He could see, just at the very edge of his vision, that her arms were coated with blood up to the elbow and figured looking into her warm brown gaze was the lesser of two evils.
Plus, he really didn’t want to know how much of his insides were actually being held inside by her tiny hands.
~*~
“…so I really would prefer it if you would refrain from-“
“Rodney?” John’s croaked voice, barely above a whisper, still stopped Rodney’s rambling dead. John turned his head slightly and could see the scientist hunched over in one of the uncomfortable plastic infirmary chairs, his fingers toying with the edge of blanket that was over him.
“Oh, you’re awake. Thank god.”
“Were you lecturing me while I was unconscious?”
“Yes. I’ve seen medical shows. Apparently it helps.”
John would have rolled his eyes if even contemplating the gesture hadn’t completely exhausted him. “That’s coma patients,” he sighed.
Rodney’s lips thinned down into a little line and the small “Oh,” he let out made John’s heart constrict, not that he knew why.
When Rodney got up and stiffly walked out, John was left feeling like a heel and also, strangely bereft.
~*~
It was a whole ten minutes into meeting the Burandea people when they discovered that science was heresy and Rodney’s rambling had offended every belief they had.
They demanded a blood debt be paid and when John stepped in front of his group and offered himself, the leader seemed placated. Ronon and Teyla both objected strenuously, so strenuously that they were manhandled to the ground, foreheads pressed into the dirt. John was yelling at the gathered mob that his people weren’t to be hurt as per the deal when the first overenthusiastic villager hit him in the back of the knee with a makeshift club.
Rodney was manhandled to the ground as well, but he wasn’t really fighting. Instead he watched horrified, as one after another it seemed every person that lived in the tiny village had a go at John. He had tried to take the blows, but a particularly nasty hit to the side of the head had pitched him to the ground and he hadn’t been able to get up again.
“That’s enough,” Rodney moaned. He looked across the square at Ronon, who had eight men holding him down and were still having a difficult time of it, and Teyla seemed limp. The man holding Rodney was more taken with the festivities than his charge and yet Rodney could only watch.
Blood hit his face in a warm arc and Rodney realized it was John’s. He removed the man that was trying to hold him, tossing him aside and then pulling his sidearm from its holster. There was another villager who was aiming a particularly nasty looking rock at John’s temple and Rodney shot him, almost casually. There was a gurgling sound as the man brought fingers up to his neck and then toppled sideways.
The villagers scattered, screaming and wailing and Rodney walked forward, every now and again discharging his weapon at bared feet. Rodney looked towards Ronon who had won free of his captors. He had a nasty looking gash on his temple and scratches all over his chest. He nodded at Rodney and stooped to pick up Teyla.
Rodney stopped by John’s prone form and leant down on his haunches, scraping through the blood on John’s throat to find the pulse point. There was a beat under his fingertips but Rodney didn’t waste time being relieved. He instead shoved an arm under John’s shoulders and one under his legs and lifted up.
John was ridiculously light for someone with such… presence.
~*~
John woke to Ronon at his side in the infirmary, white stripe of bandage at his temple and his right arm taped to his chest, the shoulder pulled out of the socket in his struggles.
“Are you guys okay?” John asked, his voice a low whisper through his raw throat.
“Teyla and I are fine. She just has a mild concussion and I’ve had worse.”
“Rodney?”
“He’s… I think you should talk to him.”
~*~
John had been given permission to recuperate in his room and had let Ronon help him to his door. The man ushered him inside, spotted Rodney sitting on the bed, and silently dropped John down beside him.
“You’ll be okay now?” Ronon prompted and John nodded.
John lay back, tugging Rodney with him. “You usually save my life from further away,” John quipped, regretting his light tone almost immediately when he felt Rodney shudder against him.
“I never-“
“I know,” John said, his tone gentle. “And probably one of the things I hate most about this place is it probably won’t be the last time you have to do something like that, either.”
There was a final shudder and then Rodney was still. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to…”
John pulled back so he could see Rodney’s face, even though it was striped in shadow.
“I trust you with my life.” John said simply, reassuring Rodney the only way he knew how.
By:
kellifer_ficRating: Mature themes
Category: Angst (Rodney/John)
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue!
Summary: “Oh, you’re awake. Thank god.”
“Were you lecturing me while I was unconscious?”
When the piece of shrapnel pierced the hull of the limping jumper and hit John Sheppard in the side, he had a moment to think, that should have hurt more, before he was being manhandled out of the pilot chair, Rodney babbling incoherently and frantically all the while.
He was braced up against a broad chest and figured it had to be Ronon and then Teyla came into his line of sight, talking softly and locking his gaze with her own. He could see, just at the very edge of his vision, that her arms were coated with blood up to the elbow and figured looking into her warm brown gaze was the lesser of two evils.
Plus, he really didn’t want to know how much of his insides were actually being held inside by her tiny hands.
~*~
“…so I really would prefer it if you would refrain from-“
“Rodney?” John’s croaked voice, barely above a whisper, still stopped Rodney’s rambling dead. John turned his head slightly and could see the scientist hunched over in one of the uncomfortable plastic infirmary chairs, his fingers toying with the edge of blanket that was over him.
“Oh, you’re awake. Thank god.”
“Were you lecturing me while I was unconscious?”
“Yes. I’ve seen medical shows. Apparently it helps.”
John would have rolled his eyes if even contemplating the gesture hadn’t completely exhausted him. “That’s coma patients,” he sighed.
Rodney’s lips thinned down into a little line and the small “Oh,” he let out made John’s heart constrict, not that he knew why.
When Rodney got up and stiffly walked out, John was left feeling like a heel and also, strangely bereft.
~*~
It was a whole ten minutes into meeting the Burandea people when they discovered that science was heresy and Rodney’s rambling had offended every belief they had.
They demanded a blood debt be paid and when John stepped in front of his group and offered himself, the leader seemed placated. Ronon and Teyla both objected strenuously, so strenuously that they were manhandled to the ground, foreheads pressed into the dirt. John was yelling at the gathered mob that his people weren’t to be hurt as per the deal when the first overenthusiastic villager hit him in the back of the knee with a makeshift club.
Rodney was manhandled to the ground as well, but he wasn’t really fighting. Instead he watched horrified, as one after another it seemed every person that lived in the tiny village had a go at John. He had tried to take the blows, but a particularly nasty hit to the side of the head had pitched him to the ground and he hadn’t been able to get up again.
“That’s enough,” Rodney moaned. He looked across the square at Ronon, who had eight men holding him down and were still having a difficult time of it, and Teyla seemed limp. The man holding Rodney was more taken with the festivities than his charge and yet Rodney could only watch.
Blood hit his face in a warm arc and Rodney realized it was John’s. He removed the man that was trying to hold him, tossing him aside and then pulling his sidearm from its holster. There was another villager who was aiming a particularly nasty looking rock at John’s temple and Rodney shot him, almost casually. There was a gurgling sound as the man brought fingers up to his neck and then toppled sideways.
The villagers scattered, screaming and wailing and Rodney walked forward, every now and again discharging his weapon at bared feet. Rodney looked towards Ronon who had won free of his captors. He had a nasty looking gash on his temple and scratches all over his chest. He nodded at Rodney and stooped to pick up Teyla.
Rodney stopped by John’s prone form and leant down on his haunches, scraping through the blood on John’s throat to find the pulse point. There was a beat under his fingertips but Rodney didn’t waste time being relieved. He instead shoved an arm under John’s shoulders and one under his legs and lifted up.
John was ridiculously light for someone with such… presence.
~*~
John woke to Ronon at his side in the infirmary, white stripe of bandage at his temple and his right arm taped to his chest, the shoulder pulled out of the socket in his struggles.
“Are you guys okay?” John asked, his voice a low whisper through his raw throat.
“Teyla and I are fine. She just has a mild concussion and I’ve had worse.”
“Rodney?”
“He’s… I think you should talk to him.”
~*~
John had been given permission to recuperate in his room and had let Ronon help him to his door. The man ushered him inside, spotted Rodney sitting on the bed, and silently dropped John down beside him.
“You’ll be okay now?” Ronon prompted and John nodded.
John lay back, tugging Rodney with him. “You usually save my life from further away,” John quipped, regretting his light tone almost immediately when he felt Rodney shudder against him.
“I never-“
“I know,” John said, his tone gentle. “And probably one of the things I hate most about this place is it probably won’t be the last time you have to do something like that, either.”
There was a final shudder and then Rodney was still. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to…”
John pulled back so he could see Rodney’s face, even though it was striped in shadow.
“I trust you with my life.” John said simply, reassuring Rodney the only way he knew how.
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