SGA ficlet: If You Could Read My Mind 1/1
This is for sheafrotherdon's Skin Hunger Challenge, but, seeing as how this is me, it got kind of long.
If You Could Read My Mind, 2,012 words, McKay/Sheppard, sappy, spoilers for aired Season Four episodes.
Warnings: This fic does not have anything in it that requires a warning. Hopefully.
*
John was looking for a permanent marker when he found it: an opaque, egg-shaped thing, shoved in a box on the bottom shelf of one of Zelenka's bookcases. Everyone in Atlantis knew Zelenka hoarded office supplies like they were going out of style, but only a few people, John included, knew he kept most of them in boxes labeled things like, Deadly and Senior Staff Only. He'd always figured Zelenka had written those words to keep people away, not because anything actually dangerous was in them. Rodney was the one who usually handled the dangerous equipment.
John pulled out the egg and a stapler from a box at the same time. At first he thought maybe the egg was a pencil case or paperweight, but then it lit up in his hand. "Cool," he said, and then everything went black.
He was only a little surprised when he came to in the infirmary, the worried faces of his teammates hovering above him. He wondered how long he'd been out this time. "Are you okay, John?" Teyla asked, sounding concerned, as he pushed himself into a seated position.
"Just peachy," he tried to say, when he was hit with a full-blown panic attack. It was like all the crap that had happened over the last few weeks caught up with him at once: Elizabeth was gone and, sure, Carter was here, but she didn't know anything about what was going on, and Atlantis had almost been destroyed with them in it, and the Replicators and the Wraith were still out there, and everything was so fucked up and getting worse every day. John let out a choked moan, drawing his knees up to his chest.
"John!" Teyla said, as Rodney asked, "What's wrong with him?" Ronon set a big hand on his shoulder, and within moments, that terrible, crushing despair drained out of him.
"Whoa," he gasped. His team looked surprised. "What-- what was that?"
Dr Keller rushed up, shining a penlight in his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I just had the wind knocked out of me," he replied.
"Oh no," Rodney said anxiously.
That didn't sound good. "What?" John asked, sitting up straighter.
Rodney winced. "You didn't happen to pick up something that looked like an egg when you were in Zelenka's supply closet, did you?"
"I thought it was a paperweight," John said. Keller looked concerned, and Ronon and Teyla each threw John worried glances. "I swear to God, Rodney, if I get turned into a bug again--"
"No, no, nothing like that," Rodney interrupted. "It's something we found a few years back -- it causes whoever touched it to feel an overpowering sense of anguish."
"What the hell is the point of that?" Ronon asked.
Ignoring him, Rodney added, "You'll have to wait for it to run its course, and in the meantime, the only cure is..."
He hesitated. "The only cure is what?" John demanded loudly.
"You have to be touched."
John saw his own horror reflected in the faces of his teammates. "Excuse me?" he asked, defensively crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.
"Don't look at me like that," Rodney snapped. "It's not like I designed it."
Teyla and Ronon traded glances. "Is there anyone you would like for us to get to... touch you?" Teyla asked, grimacing slightly. She was probably remembering the last time they'd hugged. It wasn't John's fondest memory either.
"I can round up every hot woman in the city," Ronon said unhelpfully.
Ronon was so losing his title of best friend. "No one's touching me!" John replied.
"This is starting to sound like a really bad after school special," Rodney said, sighing.
Twenty minutes later, John was burying his face in his hands and muttering tearfully, "Okay, get someone. Anyone. I don't care."
His team had left by then, so Keller took his hand while she finished sticking EKG nodes to his chest. He pulled on a white scrub top, gritting his teeth. Every so often, Keller looked up from the readings and sent him a sad smile; she probably thought he was being neurotic, but really, he just wasn't big on touching. His family hadn't been all that affectionate growing up, and he'd never learned where to put his hands during a hug or what the difference was between casual and meaningful touches, and he always just ended up feeling awkward and embarrassed. The only people who he'd had full frontal touching with in the last few years had been Elizabeth and Teyla, and both times had been incredibly uncomfortable. Well, all four times, if you counted the alien-influenced making out.
It was better for everyone if he went out of his way to avoid situations like that. It wasn't like he was messed up or anything.
That horrible feeling inside him faded after a few minutes of hand-holding. At one point, Keller's head nurse wandered over to John's corner of the room to get a new box of gloves, and she arched a thin, black brow at him suggestively.
"I hate this," John said, glaring in the nurse's general direction as she retreated.
"Gee, I'm sorry you have to put up with all this icky girl touching," Keller said dryly.
When Keller had to leave to take care of other patients, Teyla took over. She didn't hold John's hand -- that would've been weird -- but she did put one hand on his arm while she talked about what was going on around the city. By the time she left, John's shoulders were so tense they were beginning to hurt. Ronon came in next, casually slinging an arm over John's shoulder like they did this all the time. He brought a laptop and the Alien DVD with him, and John couldn't help but flinch every time Ronon laughed and his chest brushed up against John's arm. This close up, Ronon smelled like leather and something that may have been blood. John really didn't want to know.
"Rodney says only three hours more," Zelenka announced when he came to relieve Ronon, who cheerfully slapped John on the back one more time before heading off, taking his laptop with him.
"Great," John said. These were going to be the longest three hours of his life.
Zelenka's idea of touching was for him to sit in a chair and rest his feet on the bed, one ankle thrown across John's calf. It was the most comfortable John had been since this whole thing had started. He wish Teyla and Ronon had thought of something like this.
It must've shown on his face, because Zelenka said, "Do not get me wrong, John, I have no problems with the physical affection. I have many sisters. But Teyla was worried you would throw yourself into the ocean."
Feeling like a dick, John scratched the back of his neck. "It's not you guys. I..." He struggled to say something meaningful and heartfelt. "Like you."
Zelenka waved a hand. "I understand. Your mother was beautiful but cold, and your father felt you were a great disappointment. It is a story as old as time."
"Okay, no more Princess Bride for you," John said, scowling.
To his surprise, Colonel Carter showed up next. She clasped her hands behind her back and waited for Zelenka to leave, a smile frozen on her face. John's stomach dropped. It wasn't that he didn't like Carter -- she was gorgeous and smart and capable, even if she was kind of a goody-goody. It was that she wasn't Elizabeth, and he'd been listening to Rodney rave about her for years already. He'd been sick of her before she'd even showed up.
"I hear you're in a jam," she said.
"Let me guess, this happened to SG-1 once?" he asked, smirking meanly.
"Something like that," Carter replied, rocking back on her heels. "Just be glad you still have your clothes on."
She grinned at him, real this time, and John found himself grinning back. "Do you, ah, need me to, um...?" She gestured, looking embarrassed. "Hold your hand?"
John cringed. "No offense, Colonel, but we don't know each other all that well, and the touching's kind of a big deal for me."
"Oh, right," she said. She sounded relieved. "Of course. I'll go get someone."
Carter left quickly. John squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a long breath through his nose. Two more hours. The first thing he was doing when he got out of here was throwing that stupid device off one of the piers.
When he opened his eyes again, Lorne was standing over him. "Sir?"
Groaning, John scooted over. Lorne sat next to him, and John waited to feel the first twinges of despair before closing the gap and pressing their shoulders together tightly.
"You want to do paperwork or something?" John asked, holding himself still. He looked around for Lorne's tablet or laptop, but from what he could tell, Lorne had come empty-handed.
"I have to tell you, sir, this really isn't what I was expecting when Colonel Carter ordered me to touch you," said Lorne uncomfortably.
"Right," John said slowly, not looking at him. "Maybe Zelenka should come back."
*
The last person to show up was Rodney. He lingered at the foot of John's bed, an unreadable expression on his face. John thought about having to sit for an hour with Rodney touching him, and his stomach twisted nervously.
"I'm sure Teyla wouldn't mind coming back," said John.
Rodney bristled. "What, you think a little touching's going to bother me? I'm not the one with the obvious intimacy issues here, Colonel."
With that, he kicked off his sneakers and climbed onto the bed, right in John's space, and John recoiled. Rodney arranged himself comfortably, and just as John's chest started to tighten, he reached down and grabbed John's hand. Seconds later, the choked feeling disappeared.
"This isn't so bad," Rodney said.
"No, it's not," John agreed suspiciously.
Unlike the others, Rodney didn't pay attention to him at all. It was as if holding John's hand was the most normal thing that had happened to him all day. If John had thought about what would've happened if he and Rodney had been forced to touch because of alien technology -- which he hadn't -- he would've expected Rodney to bitch the entire time, or at least tell John not to get any ideas. It was weirder than being touched by everyone else who'd stopped by to help him, but in a totally different way.
Rodney's hand was bigger than John's, and paler, and he smelled good, like he'd just stepped out of the shower. John's palms began to sweat. He wiped his free hand on his knee, hoping Rodney wouldn't realize he was freaking out a little. But Rodney didn't notice at all; he was busy balancing his tablet on his lap and scribbling something onto it.
At that moment, Keller came back, holding a tablet of her own. "Whoops, Colonel, your heart rate's gone up," she said, peering at the EKG monitor. She looked surprised, but not alarmed.
"That's funny, he was fine just a second ago," Rodney said. He frowned. "The only thing different is-- Oh."
He stared at John, who suddenly wanted to die. A lot.
John waited, shoulders tense, for Rodney to pull away and suggest Ronon or Teyla come back. But instead, he gripped John's hand tighter, weaving their fingers together. And right there, with Keller writing his EKG readouts on her tablet, Rodney brushed his thumb back and forth over the bones in John's wrist. John sucked in a sharp breath.
"You sit tight, Colonel," Keller said brightly, "less than an hour left, right, Dr McKay?"
"Right," said Rodney. His voice sounded exactly like it always did.
When Keller walked off, Rodney added quietly, "One more hour."
John swallowed thickly as Rodney thumbed the edges of John's wristband. "No rush," John said breathlessly.
*
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
This wasn't beta read, but glitterandlube looked it over for me. The title is from a Johnny Cash song.
ETA: glitterandlube has written a very funny version of this story from Rodney's POV. Go read!
If You Could Read My Mind, 2,012 words, McKay/Sheppard, sappy, spoilers for aired Season Four episodes.
Warnings: This fic does not have anything in it that requires a warning. Hopefully.
*
John was looking for a permanent marker when he found it: an opaque, egg-shaped thing, shoved in a box on the bottom shelf of one of Zelenka's bookcases. Everyone in Atlantis knew Zelenka hoarded office supplies like they were going out of style, but only a few people, John included, knew he kept most of them in boxes labeled things like, Deadly and Senior Staff Only. He'd always figured Zelenka had written those words to keep people away, not because anything actually dangerous was in them. Rodney was the one who usually handled the dangerous equipment.
John pulled out the egg and a stapler from a box at the same time. At first he thought maybe the egg was a pencil case or paperweight, but then it lit up in his hand. "Cool," he said, and then everything went black.
He was only a little surprised when he came to in the infirmary, the worried faces of his teammates hovering above him. He wondered how long he'd been out this time. "Are you okay, John?" Teyla asked, sounding concerned, as he pushed himself into a seated position.
"Just peachy," he tried to say, when he was hit with a full-blown panic attack. It was like all the crap that had happened over the last few weeks caught up with him at once: Elizabeth was gone and, sure, Carter was here, but she didn't know anything about what was going on, and Atlantis had almost been destroyed with them in it, and the Replicators and the Wraith were still out there, and everything was so fucked up and getting worse every day. John let out a choked moan, drawing his knees up to his chest.
"John!" Teyla said, as Rodney asked, "What's wrong with him?" Ronon set a big hand on his shoulder, and within moments, that terrible, crushing despair drained out of him.
"Whoa," he gasped. His team looked surprised. "What-- what was that?"
Dr Keller rushed up, shining a penlight in his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I just had the wind knocked out of me," he replied.
"Oh no," Rodney said anxiously.
That didn't sound good. "What?" John asked, sitting up straighter.
Rodney winced. "You didn't happen to pick up something that looked like an egg when you were in Zelenka's supply closet, did you?"
"I thought it was a paperweight," John said. Keller looked concerned, and Ronon and Teyla each threw John worried glances. "I swear to God, Rodney, if I get turned into a bug again--"
"No, no, nothing like that," Rodney interrupted. "It's something we found a few years back -- it causes whoever touched it to feel an overpowering sense of anguish."
"What the hell is the point of that?" Ronon asked.
Ignoring him, Rodney added, "You'll have to wait for it to run its course, and in the meantime, the only cure is..."
He hesitated. "The only cure is what?" John demanded loudly.
"You have to be touched."
John saw his own horror reflected in the faces of his teammates. "Excuse me?" he asked, defensively crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.
"Don't look at me like that," Rodney snapped. "It's not like I designed it."
Teyla and Ronon traded glances. "Is there anyone you would like for us to get to... touch you?" Teyla asked, grimacing slightly. She was probably remembering the last time they'd hugged. It wasn't John's fondest memory either.
"I can round up every hot woman in the city," Ronon said unhelpfully.
Ronon was so losing his title of best friend. "No one's touching me!" John replied.
"This is starting to sound like a really bad after school special," Rodney said, sighing.
Twenty minutes later, John was burying his face in his hands and muttering tearfully, "Okay, get someone. Anyone. I don't care."
His team had left by then, so Keller took his hand while she finished sticking EKG nodes to his chest. He pulled on a white scrub top, gritting his teeth. Every so often, Keller looked up from the readings and sent him a sad smile; she probably thought he was being neurotic, but really, he just wasn't big on touching. His family hadn't been all that affectionate growing up, and he'd never learned where to put his hands during a hug or what the difference was between casual and meaningful touches, and he always just ended up feeling awkward and embarrassed. The only people who he'd had full frontal touching with in the last few years had been Elizabeth and Teyla, and both times had been incredibly uncomfortable. Well, all four times, if you counted the alien-influenced making out.
It was better for everyone if he went out of his way to avoid situations like that. It wasn't like he was messed up or anything.
That horrible feeling inside him faded after a few minutes of hand-holding. At one point, Keller's head nurse wandered over to John's corner of the room to get a new box of gloves, and she arched a thin, black brow at him suggestively.
"I hate this," John said, glaring in the nurse's general direction as she retreated.
"Gee, I'm sorry you have to put up with all this icky girl touching," Keller said dryly.
When Keller had to leave to take care of other patients, Teyla took over. She didn't hold John's hand -- that would've been weird -- but she did put one hand on his arm while she talked about what was going on around the city. By the time she left, John's shoulders were so tense they were beginning to hurt. Ronon came in next, casually slinging an arm over John's shoulder like they did this all the time. He brought a laptop and the Alien DVD with him, and John couldn't help but flinch every time Ronon laughed and his chest brushed up against John's arm. This close up, Ronon smelled like leather and something that may have been blood. John really didn't want to know.
"Rodney says only three hours more," Zelenka announced when he came to relieve Ronon, who cheerfully slapped John on the back one more time before heading off, taking his laptop with him.
"Great," John said. These were going to be the longest three hours of his life.
Zelenka's idea of touching was for him to sit in a chair and rest his feet on the bed, one ankle thrown across John's calf. It was the most comfortable John had been since this whole thing had started. He wish Teyla and Ronon had thought of something like this.
It must've shown on his face, because Zelenka said, "Do not get me wrong, John, I have no problems with the physical affection. I have many sisters. But Teyla was worried you would throw yourself into the ocean."
Feeling like a dick, John scratched the back of his neck. "It's not you guys. I..." He struggled to say something meaningful and heartfelt. "Like you."
Zelenka waved a hand. "I understand. Your mother was beautiful but cold, and your father felt you were a great disappointment. It is a story as old as time."
"Okay, no more Princess Bride for you," John said, scowling.
To his surprise, Colonel Carter showed up next. She clasped her hands behind her back and waited for Zelenka to leave, a smile frozen on her face. John's stomach dropped. It wasn't that he didn't like Carter -- she was gorgeous and smart and capable, even if she was kind of a goody-goody. It was that she wasn't Elizabeth, and he'd been listening to Rodney rave about her for years already. He'd been sick of her before she'd even showed up.
"I hear you're in a jam," she said.
"Let me guess, this happened to SG-1 once?" he asked, smirking meanly.
"Something like that," Carter replied, rocking back on her heels. "Just be glad you still have your clothes on."
She grinned at him, real this time, and John found himself grinning back. "Do you, ah, need me to, um...?" She gestured, looking embarrassed. "Hold your hand?"
John cringed. "No offense, Colonel, but we don't know each other all that well, and the touching's kind of a big deal for me."
"Oh, right," she said. She sounded relieved. "Of course. I'll go get someone."
Carter left quickly. John squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a long breath through his nose. Two more hours. The first thing he was doing when he got out of here was throwing that stupid device off one of the piers.
When he opened his eyes again, Lorne was standing over him. "Sir?"
Groaning, John scooted over. Lorne sat next to him, and John waited to feel the first twinges of despair before closing the gap and pressing their shoulders together tightly.
"You want to do paperwork or something?" John asked, holding himself still. He looked around for Lorne's tablet or laptop, but from what he could tell, Lorne had come empty-handed.
"I have to tell you, sir, this really isn't what I was expecting when Colonel Carter ordered me to touch you," said Lorne uncomfortably.
"Right," John said slowly, not looking at him. "Maybe Zelenka should come back."
*
The last person to show up was Rodney. He lingered at the foot of John's bed, an unreadable expression on his face. John thought about having to sit for an hour with Rodney touching him, and his stomach twisted nervously.
"I'm sure Teyla wouldn't mind coming back," said John.
Rodney bristled. "What, you think a little touching's going to bother me? I'm not the one with the obvious intimacy issues here, Colonel."
With that, he kicked off his sneakers and climbed onto the bed, right in John's space, and John recoiled. Rodney arranged himself comfortably, and just as John's chest started to tighten, he reached down and grabbed John's hand. Seconds later, the choked feeling disappeared.
"This isn't so bad," Rodney said.
"No, it's not," John agreed suspiciously.
Unlike the others, Rodney didn't pay attention to him at all. It was as if holding John's hand was the most normal thing that had happened to him all day. If John had thought about what would've happened if he and Rodney had been forced to touch because of alien technology -- which he hadn't -- he would've expected Rodney to bitch the entire time, or at least tell John not to get any ideas. It was weirder than being touched by everyone else who'd stopped by to help him, but in a totally different way.
Rodney's hand was bigger than John's, and paler, and he smelled good, like he'd just stepped out of the shower. John's palms began to sweat. He wiped his free hand on his knee, hoping Rodney wouldn't realize he was freaking out a little. But Rodney didn't notice at all; he was busy balancing his tablet on his lap and scribbling something onto it.
At that moment, Keller came back, holding a tablet of her own. "Whoops, Colonel, your heart rate's gone up," she said, peering at the EKG monitor. She looked surprised, but not alarmed.
"That's funny, he was fine just a second ago," Rodney said. He frowned. "The only thing different is-- Oh."
He stared at John, who suddenly wanted to die. A lot.
John waited, shoulders tense, for Rodney to pull away and suggest Ronon or Teyla come back. But instead, he gripped John's hand tighter, weaving their fingers together. And right there, with Keller writing his EKG readouts on her tablet, Rodney brushed his thumb back and forth over the bones in John's wrist. John sucked in a sharp breath.
"You sit tight, Colonel," Keller said brightly, "less than an hour left, right, Dr McKay?"
"Right," said Rodney. His voice sounded exactly like it always did.
When Keller walked off, Rodney added quietly, "One more hour."
John swallowed thickly as Rodney thumbed the edges of John's wristband. "No rush," John said breathlessly.
*
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
This wasn't beta read, but glitterandlube looked it over for me. The title is from a Johnny Cash song.
ETA: glitterandlube has written a very funny version of this story from Rodney's POV. Go read!