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Title: Hegira - Part Three
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: Adult Themes
Word Count: 2,522
Spoilers: None
Category: AU
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine
Summary: “I made a mess of protecting you,” John said slowly, toying with his fork.
“That’s okay, we can take turns,” Rodney smiled, taking a sip of coffee.
Rodney woke to the sound of murmured voices, the rumble of a bus engine and the feeling of John’s bony shoulder in his ear. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep but it must have been a while because John had managed to charm the girl in the aisle seat opposite enough that they were engaged in conversation with her tilted towards him and her feet resting on the side of the seat next to John’s thigh.
Rodney felt a momentary flash of annoyance until he realised that John had a proprietary hand on Rodney’s knee where she could see it and that was probably the main reason she looked so open and relaxed, not casually on guard like she suspected someone was trying to get into her pants.
She was wearing pink sneakers and stripy stockings and what Rodney could make out of her through one cracked eyelid, a little young to be on a bus by herself in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning.
“…for about four months but the pay was lousy and it wasn’t going anywhere,” she was saying.
“Yeah, I know that feeling,” John agreed with a low chuckle, the vibration of it settling into Rodney’s skin where it touched John’s and Rodney would have loved to stay in that position forever, if it weren’t for the horrible and crippling things it was doing to his spine and neck.
“Where are we?” Rodney asked with a yawn, rubbing a fist into his eye and the girl leaned around John to grin apologetically at Rodney.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” she said and Rodney waved a hand at her.
“No, you didn’t. It was the spinal column damage I was doing to myself and the fact that my eardrum was being perforated by the sharpest shoulder bone in existence.”
The girl looked at John and her eyes crinkled. “Yeah, you were right,” she said and Rodney sat up straighter, beginnings of a pout forming on his face.
“Right about-?”
The bus window behind her blew inward in a shower of safety glass.
Rodney felt something solid and heavy pitch into him and he realised it was John. They were both thrown sideways as the bus slammed on the brakes and Rodney automatically grabbed John around the waist to stop him from sliding onto the floor with the impact. He felt something warm spatter his neck when he shifted although his body immediately registered what it was, his mind seemed to back away from the idea that he was being covered in blood.
Specifically John’s.
Rodney felt the bus’ floor shift beneath his feet and knew that the angle it was pitching at was too violent for the bus not to be in the process of tipping. Momentum made it difficult, but he managed to slide himself and John onto the floor under the seat he had been occupying until a few seconds ago, hoping that it would stop them from being crushed when the bus tilted. A roaring filled his ears and the sound of more glass as the bus finally adhered to gravity and went over onto its side.
The bus stopped its slide so suddenly that Rodney knew they must have hit something solid. He realised he was now lying on a window that had splintered but not given way. He uncurled as much as he could although the seat he had put himself and John under had twisted in such a way that it pinned them both. He pushed against it but didn’t feel even the slightest give.
He heard the sound of other people moving, some crying, one man screaming hoarsely to let him up, oh jesus his legs, help him, somebody help him. He could see another young girl dangling above, pinned between two seats that had been jammed together and knew with a sick roiling in his gut that it was the girl they had just been talking to. He was thankful that he could only see the back of her head and one arm dangling.
He tried to shift a little to see John who also tilted his head to try and look back at Rodney. “Fucking hell,” John groaned. There was blood on the corner of his mouth and Rodney was faintly aware that there was a warm wetness spreading across his stomach that he was pretty sure wasn’t coming from him, unless he was in major shock.
“John? Try not to move,” he said although he thought it probably a moot point considering they were both pinned in such a way that either moving would be difficult. He was starting to really worry that John was dying while they were locked together. He could now see blood pooling onto the window below them and he knew it wasn’t his. There was so much that he was dimly surprised that John was still awake.
“We’ve gotta get up,” John said, pulling his arms out from between them and laying his palms flat on the bus seat that was twisted over their bodies.
“I really don’t think you should move,” Rodney said in a small voice.
“Really Rodney? If we don’t get out of here now we’re fucking dead. Comprende?” John snapped, pushing upwards on the bus seat. There was a groaning sound of metal bending but another part of the seat was being pushed down with the motion, trapping them more securely.
“Christ!” John cursed.
“I think they’re going to have to cut us out of here,” Rodney groaned. There was still crying and screaming all around him, but he could dimly hear the sound of sirens and he was relieved that they weren’t too far away. Then he heard something he wasn’t expecting.
The sound of boots crunching over glass.
Rodney twisted his head sideways and saw a tall man with greying hair carefully picking his way backwards through the bus. He was stepping over people who reached out to him weakly and his eyes never left the space where Rodney and John were trapped.
John moved his head so he could see what Rodney was looking at and Rodney felt his whole body stiffen beneath him. Looking at John’s face, even from the weird angle, his green eyes were wide and staring intently at the man approaching them, a hardness in his face that Rodney knew he had never seen before. It was a coldness that almost frightened him.
The man finally reached them and knelt down, reaching past Rodney to take a bunch of John’s hair in his grasp and look at him closely. Rodney wriggled, trying to get his arms free as John had done but they had been wedged tighter around his body when John had moved the seat.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, eyes widening as the man reached into a jacket pocket.
“Hey! You, what are you doing?” Another voice demanded, and Rodney looked past the kneeling man to see another coming up the centre aisle, a cop by the uniform. Rodney had never been so relieved to see police in all his life.
He saw something harden on the kneeling man’s face, but then his features tightened further when a second cop appeared behind the first. The man looked back at John and then eyed Rodney for a second balefully, before uttering an oath under his breath that Rodney didn’t quite catch. He stood and reached upwards, hooking hands around one of the seats on the topside of the bus. He swung himself up and outwards, punching through the window with booted feet and landing on the bus’ side.
Rodney saw both cops stare for a second, before one tore back down the bus and outside, the other approaching John and Rodney. “Are you guys okay?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.
“Rodney,” John said in a low voice. “I think I’m going to have to-“
“Yeah, I know,” Rodney growled out of the corner of his mouth. Rodney felt John’s whole body slacken along his own and Rodney looked up at the approaching cop, widening his eyes in what he hoped looked like shock and enough fear and horror to do him justice.
“Can you get me out of here? I think… I think this guy is dead.”
~~~
The Doctor was young and full of sympathy.
He had obviously not done this type of thing much before and had not quite gotten the knack of being sympathetic, yet aloof. He was still too full of passion to not get emotionally involved. His eyes were liquid pools of aggrieved understanding as he looked at the other dishevelled man across the table from him. Between them lay, what he believed, was this man’s dead brother.
“The cuts and abrasions were sustained as a result of the bus accident and we suspect there was a lot of internal damage. Without an autopsy I could only guess that this would be the most likely cause of death.” The Doctor supplied, reading from a chart. He then looked up at the man across from him and his eyes softened. “I don’t think he suffered much… if that helps,” he said awkwardly.
“Can I have a moment alone?” Rodney asked in a voice that cracked with grief and fear. The Doctor nodded and slid out of the room silently, his heart full of pity for the man he had just left.
Once left alone, Rodney turned back to the examination table in front of him and grabbed hold of John’s shoulders. “John? John! Wake up for god’s sake!” he cried, shaking John all the while. He let John gently back down onto the table and a dawning fear that he wouldn’t wake this time was born in the pit of his stomach, until John opened one eye and looked at him.
“That Doctor sure can ramble on about nothing huh?” he grinned.
“Jesus!” Rodney exclaimed and gathered John awkwardly into his arms. He squeezed him hard and until John squeaked in protest. “Are you okay?” he demanded.
He watched in fascination as the bruises and abrasions that had covered John’s skin faded until it was smooth and perfect. He had seen John do something similar a couple of times before but it never failed to amaze him. John sometimes seemed able to work his will on his body.
“I’m fine. Sorry about this. I thought I could slip away with all the confusion but the ambulance got there too fast. ” John smiled and brushed Rodney’s face with his fingertips fondly. He looked about himself and realised he was wearing nothing but a sheet. He glanced at Rodney and grinned wryly. “Clothes… now!” he said, holding out one hand.
Rodney reached into the backpack he was carrying and pulled a shirt and a pair of jeans out of it. John slipped to the floor and pulled the clothes on quickly. “Now, how do we get out of here?” John asked.
“I don’t imagine it will be hard. I doubt hospitals expect people to be breaking out of morgues.” Rodney said, looking at the stark room around them. He shuddered as John pulled the boots onto his feet that Rodney proffered.
Rodney’s prediction proved correct. Being a small county hospital, they were able to pass out of the morgue undetected and made for the nearest fire stairs. They got outside without incident and headed for a local coffee shop to lay low for a while.
Rodney ordered a pile of pancakes and for a time both of them were occupied with the task of shovelling food in. When John paused and Rodney liberated a good portion of the pancakes John had so obviously abandoned, John took the opportunity to speak.
“I made a mess of protecting you,” John said slowly, toying with his fork.
“That’s okay, we can take turns,” Rodney smiled, taking a sip of coffee. He leant forward but John pulled his hands out of his reach. Rodney didn’t know whether John had done this on purpose. John’s hands fluttered to his neck and seemed to search for something that wasn’t there anymore.
“I don’t think I can protect you,” he said and his tone was stony.
Rodney set down his own fork and pushed his plate aside. “What just happened was a fluke. You can’t know-“
“Oh c’mon Rodney, don’t play dumb because you really can’t. You know as well as I do that the bus thing was no accident.”
Rodney’s hands skittered forward again, but since John was out of reach, he settled for clasping a pepper shaker in his fingers, turning it round and round. “How could someone have done that?”
“I’m starting to think – “
“No,” Rodney snapped, knowing where this was leading.
“But-“
“No.” Rodney snapped again. He shoved his plate so hard that it clattered to the floor and this time leaned over the table to grab John’s hands roughly. Fellow diners gave the pair uncomfortable looks. Rodney treated them to a baleful glance and most returned to their own meals. Rodney squeezed John’s hands and he felt the bones grind together in his grasp. John did not cry out, however, but met his gaze with level eyes.
“Does hurting me make you feel better?” he asked evenly.
“Does it make you feel at all?” he spat back.
“Do you think I like having to be the practical one?” John freed his hands and pulled them into his lap. Rodney barked out a bitter laugh.
“This is all a big game to you isn’t it?”
“How can you think that?” Rodney ground out.
“You’re so... the way you talk about what happened. You just had to save me. Who’s going to save you Rodney?”
“Don’t give me that shit!” Rodney yelled and slammed his fist on the table, making their cutlery jump. Out of the corner of his eye Rodney saw a waitress approaching their table at a fast walk and he knew they were about to be booted from the café.
“Rodney, I-“
“You folks want to clear out of here? You’re upsetting the other customers. The meal’s free if you leave without a fuss,” the waitress offered. She had smiled at John when they had sat down and called them both sweetheart but now she was looking at them like they were something she’d stepped in.
Rodney turned on her and she took a step backward. He reached into his pocket and drew out some bills that he threw on the table. “We’re finished,” he said and strode out.
“You know hon,” the waitress said, starting to clear the table. “You should steer clear of those violent types.”
The waitress looked at John as if he were crazy when he started laughing. John stood, gathered his jacket and Rodney’s and followed him out the door. He found Rodney in the parking lot, stooped over and retching violently.
John stood a few feet back, waiting patiently. When Rodney turned, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, his eyes were bloodshot with unshed tears.
John held his jacket out to him silently.
Part Four
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: Adult Themes
Word Count: 2,522
Spoilers: None
Category: AU
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine
Summary: “I made a mess of protecting you,” John said slowly, toying with his fork.
“That’s okay, we can take turns,” Rodney smiled, taking a sip of coffee.
Rodney woke to the sound of murmured voices, the rumble of a bus engine and the feeling of John’s bony shoulder in his ear. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep but it must have been a while because John had managed to charm the girl in the aisle seat opposite enough that they were engaged in conversation with her tilted towards him and her feet resting on the side of the seat next to John’s thigh.
Rodney felt a momentary flash of annoyance until he realised that John had a proprietary hand on Rodney’s knee where she could see it and that was probably the main reason she looked so open and relaxed, not casually on guard like she suspected someone was trying to get into her pants.
She was wearing pink sneakers and stripy stockings and what Rodney could make out of her through one cracked eyelid, a little young to be on a bus by herself in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning.
“…for about four months but the pay was lousy and it wasn’t going anywhere,” she was saying.
“Yeah, I know that feeling,” John agreed with a low chuckle, the vibration of it settling into Rodney’s skin where it touched John’s and Rodney would have loved to stay in that position forever, if it weren’t for the horrible and crippling things it was doing to his spine and neck.
“Where are we?” Rodney asked with a yawn, rubbing a fist into his eye and the girl leaned around John to grin apologetically at Rodney.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” she said and Rodney waved a hand at her.
“No, you didn’t. It was the spinal column damage I was doing to myself and the fact that my eardrum was being perforated by the sharpest shoulder bone in existence.”
The girl looked at John and her eyes crinkled. “Yeah, you were right,” she said and Rodney sat up straighter, beginnings of a pout forming on his face.
“Right about-?”
The bus window behind her blew inward in a shower of safety glass.
Rodney felt something solid and heavy pitch into him and he realised it was John. They were both thrown sideways as the bus slammed on the brakes and Rodney automatically grabbed John around the waist to stop him from sliding onto the floor with the impact. He felt something warm spatter his neck when he shifted although his body immediately registered what it was, his mind seemed to back away from the idea that he was being covered in blood.
Specifically John’s.
Rodney felt the bus’ floor shift beneath his feet and knew that the angle it was pitching at was too violent for the bus not to be in the process of tipping. Momentum made it difficult, but he managed to slide himself and John onto the floor under the seat he had been occupying until a few seconds ago, hoping that it would stop them from being crushed when the bus tilted. A roaring filled his ears and the sound of more glass as the bus finally adhered to gravity and went over onto its side.
The bus stopped its slide so suddenly that Rodney knew they must have hit something solid. He realised he was now lying on a window that had splintered but not given way. He uncurled as much as he could although the seat he had put himself and John under had twisted in such a way that it pinned them both. He pushed against it but didn’t feel even the slightest give.
He heard the sound of other people moving, some crying, one man screaming hoarsely to let him up, oh jesus his legs, help him, somebody help him. He could see another young girl dangling above, pinned between two seats that had been jammed together and knew with a sick roiling in his gut that it was the girl they had just been talking to. He was thankful that he could only see the back of her head and one arm dangling.
He tried to shift a little to see John who also tilted his head to try and look back at Rodney. “Fucking hell,” John groaned. There was blood on the corner of his mouth and Rodney was faintly aware that there was a warm wetness spreading across his stomach that he was pretty sure wasn’t coming from him, unless he was in major shock.
“John? Try not to move,” he said although he thought it probably a moot point considering they were both pinned in such a way that either moving would be difficult. He was starting to really worry that John was dying while they were locked together. He could now see blood pooling onto the window below them and he knew it wasn’t his. There was so much that he was dimly surprised that John was still awake.
“We’ve gotta get up,” John said, pulling his arms out from between them and laying his palms flat on the bus seat that was twisted over their bodies.
“I really don’t think you should move,” Rodney said in a small voice.
“Really Rodney? If we don’t get out of here now we’re fucking dead. Comprende?” John snapped, pushing upwards on the bus seat. There was a groaning sound of metal bending but another part of the seat was being pushed down with the motion, trapping them more securely.
“Christ!” John cursed.
“I think they’re going to have to cut us out of here,” Rodney groaned. There was still crying and screaming all around him, but he could dimly hear the sound of sirens and he was relieved that they weren’t too far away. Then he heard something he wasn’t expecting.
The sound of boots crunching over glass.
Rodney twisted his head sideways and saw a tall man with greying hair carefully picking his way backwards through the bus. He was stepping over people who reached out to him weakly and his eyes never left the space where Rodney and John were trapped.
John moved his head so he could see what Rodney was looking at and Rodney felt his whole body stiffen beneath him. Looking at John’s face, even from the weird angle, his green eyes were wide and staring intently at the man approaching them, a hardness in his face that Rodney knew he had never seen before. It was a coldness that almost frightened him.
The man finally reached them and knelt down, reaching past Rodney to take a bunch of John’s hair in his grasp and look at him closely. Rodney wriggled, trying to get his arms free as John had done but they had been wedged tighter around his body when John had moved the seat.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, eyes widening as the man reached into a jacket pocket.
“Hey! You, what are you doing?” Another voice demanded, and Rodney looked past the kneeling man to see another coming up the centre aisle, a cop by the uniform. Rodney had never been so relieved to see police in all his life.
He saw something harden on the kneeling man’s face, but then his features tightened further when a second cop appeared behind the first. The man looked back at John and then eyed Rodney for a second balefully, before uttering an oath under his breath that Rodney didn’t quite catch. He stood and reached upwards, hooking hands around one of the seats on the topside of the bus. He swung himself up and outwards, punching through the window with booted feet and landing on the bus’ side.
Rodney saw both cops stare for a second, before one tore back down the bus and outside, the other approaching John and Rodney. “Are you guys okay?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.
“Rodney,” John said in a low voice. “I think I’m going to have to-“
“Yeah, I know,” Rodney growled out of the corner of his mouth. Rodney felt John’s whole body slacken along his own and Rodney looked up at the approaching cop, widening his eyes in what he hoped looked like shock and enough fear and horror to do him justice.
“Can you get me out of here? I think… I think this guy is dead.”
~~~
The Doctor was young and full of sympathy.
He had obviously not done this type of thing much before and had not quite gotten the knack of being sympathetic, yet aloof. He was still too full of passion to not get emotionally involved. His eyes were liquid pools of aggrieved understanding as he looked at the other dishevelled man across the table from him. Between them lay, what he believed, was this man’s dead brother.
“The cuts and abrasions were sustained as a result of the bus accident and we suspect there was a lot of internal damage. Without an autopsy I could only guess that this would be the most likely cause of death.” The Doctor supplied, reading from a chart. He then looked up at the man across from him and his eyes softened. “I don’t think he suffered much… if that helps,” he said awkwardly.
“Can I have a moment alone?” Rodney asked in a voice that cracked with grief and fear. The Doctor nodded and slid out of the room silently, his heart full of pity for the man he had just left.
Once left alone, Rodney turned back to the examination table in front of him and grabbed hold of John’s shoulders. “John? John! Wake up for god’s sake!” he cried, shaking John all the while. He let John gently back down onto the table and a dawning fear that he wouldn’t wake this time was born in the pit of his stomach, until John opened one eye and looked at him.
“That Doctor sure can ramble on about nothing huh?” he grinned.
“Jesus!” Rodney exclaimed and gathered John awkwardly into his arms. He squeezed him hard and until John squeaked in protest. “Are you okay?” he demanded.
He watched in fascination as the bruises and abrasions that had covered John’s skin faded until it was smooth and perfect. He had seen John do something similar a couple of times before but it never failed to amaze him. John sometimes seemed able to work his will on his body.
“I’m fine. Sorry about this. I thought I could slip away with all the confusion but the ambulance got there too fast. ” John smiled and brushed Rodney’s face with his fingertips fondly. He looked about himself and realised he was wearing nothing but a sheet. He glanced at Rodney and grinned wryly. “Clothes… now!” he said, holding out one hand.
Rodney reached into the backpack he was carrying and pulled a shirt and a pair of jeans out of it. John slipped to the floor and pulled the clothes on quickly. “Now, how do we get out of here?” John asked.
“I don’t imagine it will be hard. I doubt hospitals expect people to be breaking out of morgues.” Rodney said, looking at the stark room around them. He shuddered as John pulled the boots onto his feet that Rodney proffered.
Rodney’s prediction proved correct. Being a small county hospital, they were able to pass out of the morgue undetected and made for the nearest fire stairs. They got outside without incident and headed for a local coffee shop to lay low for a while.
Rodney ordered a pile of pancakes and for a time both of them were occupied with the task of shovelling food in. When John paused and Rodney liberated a good portion of the pancakes John had so obviously abandoned, John took the opportunity to speak.
“I made a mess of protecting you,” John said slowly, toying with his fork.
“That’s okay, we can take turns,” Rodney smiled, taking a sip of coffee. He leant forward but John pulled his hands out of his reach. Rodney didn’t know whether John had done this on purpose. John’s hands fluttered to his neck and seemed to search for something that wasn’t there anymore.
“I don’t think I can protect you,” he said and his tone was stony.
Rodney set down his own fork and pushed his plate aside. “What just happened was a fluke. You can’t know-“
“Oh c’mon Rodney, don’t play dumb because you really can’t. You know as well as I do that the bus thing was no accident.”
Rodney’s hands skittered forward again, but since John was out of reach, he settled for clasping a pepper shaker in his fingers, turning it round and round. “How could someone have done that?”
“I’m starting to think – “
“No,” Rodney snapped, knowing where this was leading.
“But-“
“No.” Rodney snapped again. He shoved his plate so hard that it clattered to the floor and this time leaned over the table to grab John’s hands roughly. Fellow diners gave the pair uncomfortable looks. Rodney treated them to a baleful glance and most returned to their own meals. Rodney squeezed John’s hands and he felt the bones grind together in his grasp. John did not cry out, however, but met his gaze with level eyes.
“Does hurting me make you feel better?” he asked evenly.
“Does it make you feel at all?” he spat back.
“Do you think I like having to be the practical one?” John freed his hands and pulled them into his lap. Rodney barked out a bitter laugh.
“This is all a big game to you isn’t it?”
“How can you think that?” Rodney ground out.
“You’re so... the way you talk about what happened. You just had to save me. Who’s going to save you Rodney?”
“Don’t give me that shit!” Rodney yelled and slammed his fist on the table, making their cutlery jump. Out of the corner of his eye Rodney saw a waitress approaching their table at a fast walk and he knew they were about to be booted from the café.
“Rodney, I-“
“You folks want to clear out of here? You’re upsetting the other customers. The meal’s free if you leave without a fuss,” the waitress offered. She had smiled at John when they had sat down and called them both sweetheart but now she was looking at them like they were something she’d stepped in.
Rodney turned on her and she took a step backward. He reached into his pocket and drew out some bills that he threw on the table. “We’re finished,” he said and strode out.
“You know hon,” the waitress said, starting to clear the table. “You should steer clear of those violent types.”
The waitress looked at John as if he were crazy when he started laughing. John stood, gathered his jacket and Rodney’s and followed him out the door. He found Rodney in the parking lot, stooped over and retching violently.
John stood a few feet back, waiting patiently. When Rodney turned, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, his eyes were bloodshot with unshed tears.
John held his jacket out to him silently.
Part Four
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n.
1. A flight to escape danger.
2. also Hegira The flight of Muhammad from Mecca to Medina in 622 A.D., marking the beginning of the Muslim era.
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WP
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