SGA\\Drabbles\\McShep-Gen\\G-PG
Written for atlantis100's Snow Patrol's songs challenge.
Days Without Paracetemol
G, McShep - could be friendship or slash, whichever you prefer.
Rodney McKay was a hypochondriac. Atlantis knew him for his ability to whine, complain, and otherwise induce company for his misery. It was a given fact; a constant in the equation of Lantean social structure.
John Sheppard was easy-going, a good leader, and willing to take a bullet for his team without a second thought. He, too, was a constant in the Lantean social structure; he could be counted on to keep his head in any situation.
Yet, it was Rodney who ended up nursing a whining, flu-stricken John. He dreaded the day they ran out of Robitussin.
One-Hundred Things You Should Have Done in Bed
PG, McShep, Slash
Rodney had a list. He never wrote it down, but he knew every last item on it, and sometimes he added to it.
He didn’t often think about it, usually only under extreme stress or threat of death. (Alright, maybe he thought about it more often than he’d like to admit.)
Every time there was a chance that he may never see John again, that one or the other wouldn’t come back or be able to save the day this time, he thought of his list, starting from one:
I should have kissed him longer, held him closer, told him…
Chased By… I Don’t Know What
G, Gen
Rodney couldn’t sleep anymore. When he tried, it wasn’t well, and he woke up often throughout the night.
He finally gave up trying and resigned himself to living on coffee and power bars. He stayed in the lab, working until his eyes burned with exhaustion. He rubbed them and drank more coffee.
Radek found him in the lab one night, sitting under a table, head in his hands.
“Rodney?”
“I can’t sleep.” He sounded frustrated, near tears.
“Why not?”
“I - I’m having… nightmares. Where I’m chased. I can’t get away.” He whimpered.
Something twisted in Radek’s chest. He understood nightmares.
Somewhere A Clock is Ticking
G, Gen
Every last person on Atlantis knew they were living on borrowed time. Somewhere, there was a giant hourglass trickling away their lives, sand grain by sand grain; a clock, ticking away their seconds.
So they stole back moments, all of them did - moments alone, moments with others. Moments they’d never get back, but at least were theirs. Moments they wouldn’t have to repay to Fate and her minions someday.
They never lasted long, these reclaimed moments, but while they did last, nothing else mattered. In those moments, they were once again their own people.
At least for a moment.
Days Without Paracetemol
G, McShep - could be friendship or slash, whichever you prefer.
Rodney McKay was a hypochondriac. Atlantis knew him for his ability to whine, complain, and otherwise induce company for his misery. It was a given fact; a constant in the equation of Lantean social structure.
John Sheppard was easy-going, a good leader, and willing to take a bullet for his team without a second thought. He, too, was a constant in the Lantean social structure; he could be counted on to keep his head in any situation.
Yet, it was Rodney who ended up nursing a whining, flu-stricken John. He dreaded the day they ran out of Robitussin.
One-Hundred Things You Should Have Done in Bed
PG, McShep, Slash
Rodney had a list. He never wrote it down, but he knew every last item on it, and sometimes he added to it.
He didn’t often think about it, usually only under extreme stress or threat of death. (Alright, maybe he thought about it more often than he’d like to admit.)
Every time there was a chance that he may never see John again, that one or the other wouldn’t come back or be able to save the day this time, he thought of his list, starting from one:
I should have kissed him longer, held him closer, told him…
Chased By… I Don’t Know What
G, Gen
Rodney couldn’t sleep anymore. When he tried, it wasn’t well, and he woke up often throughout the night.
He finally gave up trying and resigned himself to living on coffee and power bars. He stayed in the lab, working until his eyes burned with exhaustion. He rubbed them and drank more coffee.
Radek found him in the lab one night, sitting under a table, head in his hands.
“Rodney?”
“I can’t sleep.” He sounded frustrated, near tears.
“Why not?”
“I - I’m having… nightmares. Where I’m chased. I can’t get away.” He whimpered.
Something twisted in Radek’s chest. He understood nightmares.
Somewhere A Clock is Ticking
G, Gen
Every last person on Atlantis knew they were living on borrowed time. Somewhere, there was a giant hourglass trickling away their lives, sand grain by sand grain; a clock, ticking away their seconds.
So they stole back moments, all of them did - moments alone, moments with others. Moments they’d never get back, but at least were theirs. Moments they wouldn’t have to repay to Fate and her minions someday.
They never lasted long, these reclaimed moments, but while they did last, nothing else mattered. In those moments, they were once again their own people.
At least for a moment.