SGA slash - In the Service of the Queen 1/? McKay/Sheppard, McKay/Dex
Title: In the Service of the Queen - Chapter 1/?
Fandom:Stargate Atlantis
Pairing, etc: McKay/Sheppard, implied McKay/Dex
Word Count: around 1500
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Takes place after Allies, so all of Season 2 generally
Warnings: this is not my usual light-hearted PWP. But Rodney is just so beautiful damaged…implied non-con, Rodney!torture
Author's Notes: my mind is a very scary place. Thanks to scifijunkie for the beta. (her mind is also a very scary place) Also - this is for one of my 50kinkyways prompts. I just haven't decided which one yet
This is what Rodney remembers.
Rodney huddles against the damp walls of his cell trying to ignore the ache in his shoulders. His hands are secured behind his back; the slender chains are surprisingly strong even though he can barely feel their weight around his wrists.
He can hear her coming, the dull ring of her boots against the floor, the accompanying footsteps of her guards. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he can get through this. He can survive. He just has to hold on - has to stay alive and keep Ronon alive - help will come. Sheppard will come.
He raises his head when the cell door slides open. She comes in by herself - that’s how it always starts. But he knows the others will be waiting just out of sight. She likes an audience - likes to serve up that extra bit of humiliation.
She strikes a pose in the doorway, and this is all part of the game too. She wants him to look at her - will force him to if he tries to turn his head or close his eyes. Every time he swallows, the bruises circling his neck remind him of the last time he refused to look.
Her long hair gleams in the soft light, the dark mass free around her shoulders, streaks of silver woven throughout. It the's kind of luxurious hair he’s seen in shampoo commercials and again he’s struck by the strange combination of beauty and beast.
Today she wears white, the dress snug against her body, outlining each curve and muscle. The dress is slit up the side, and when she moves forward, he can see the smooth expanse of one long leg. She holds out a hand to him, a graceful movement that makes the slightly belled sleeve of her dress flutter.
Even though he knows what comes next - because he knows what comes next -- he can’t stop the shiver of disgust that runs though him.
She sees it of course, and steps even closer, her mouth curving into a smile. “Hello, pet. Are you ready to serve me?”
The tip of the Hive Queen’s finger slides along his cheek and even as Rodney nods, some small part of him begins to silently scream.
+++
John remembers everything.
John shifted forward in his chair and straightened the rumpled covers on Rodney’s infirmary bed. He still couldn’t quite believe that he’d found him alive. He’d hoped, of course, but he was enough of a realist to know that the chances that Rodney and Ronon would still be alive after almost a month aboard a Hive ship were remote.
“You should go to bed, Colonel.” Carson’s voice was rough from lack of sleep, and the dark circles under his eyes mirrored John’s. “Rodney will be fine… eventually.”
“Yeah, Doc, about that--” John started.
Carson cut him off, “Out in the hall please. Rodney needs his sleep.”
John followed him out after one last lingering glance at Rodney’s huddled form.
Carson waited until the door slid shut before speaking. “You were briefed on this Colonel, along with Elizabeth. The main problem is dehydration and malnourishment. The Wraith provided him with just enough to keep him alive. We’re taking care of that with IV fluids. The cuts, although quite numerous, were shallow for the most part. As for the chemical we found in his blood, well, he’s already metabolized most of it. Within the next twenty-four hours or so his levels should be back to normal.”
John scrubbed a hand across his face. “Have you learned anything else about the chemical?”
“Not really, no. It has properties similar to the Wraith enzyme and something like sodium penthanol.”
“Truth serum?”
“Not exactly. From what you described, and what Ronon remembers, it was likely administered by the Queen to heighten his senses and increase Rodney’s suggestibility.” Carson’s voice lowered. “Frankly, I think Rodney’s physical recovery will be easy. It’s the other that I worry about.”
John faked a smile he didn’t feel and clapped Carson on the shoulder. “Come on, don’t worry about that. Rodney’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Carson’s eyes were troubled. “I hope you’re right.”
+++
This is what Rodney remembers.
“How is my pet today?”
Rodney jerks awake at the sibilant whisper, his heart thudding in his chest.
The Queen is crouched over him, that same vicious smile on her face. “I’m ready to play, pet. On your feet.” Even as she speaks, she gestures toward one of the guards.
Before Rodney can scramble up, a cold hand wraps around his bare arm and pulls him to his feet. The feel of the guard’s hand makes his skin crawl and he wants to protest. He hates this - his body exposed, no control over anything. He bites his lip instead, and resists the urge to wipe at the spot where the guard touched him. He’s learned to keep his mouth shut the hard way.
“Have you been good?” The Queen reaches out, her fingers brushing through his hair.
Rodney meets her gaze, forcing a serene expression to his face. He can’t bring himself to speak, but she seems to accept his small nod as assent. Don’t think about it, just stay alive. Sheppard will come.
The hand in his hair slides down, her nails scraping across the tender skin of his throat. “Perhaps I’ll keep you and the Runner around a little longer.” She nods toward one of the guards. “Bring the other one in.”
Even with his hands shackled it takes four of the Wraith guards to maneuver Ronon into the cell. Ronon’s eyes are wild and through the thick gag Rodney can hear the wordless sounds of his rage. The guards shackle Ronon to the wall, his arms outstretched on either side of his head.
Rodney can feel Ronon’s eyes moving over him, and he is once again reminded of his nudity. He can feel the disgust in the other man’s gaze.
“Such spirit.” The Queen’s voice holds a note of admiration. “It would be a shame to kill him…today.” The hand against Rodney’s throat moves lower, her nails cutting into his skin. “Come along now pet, let’s show the Runner what you’ve learned.” She shoves him toward Ronon, pushing hard enough that Rodney stumbles.
Rodney sinks to his knees without being told, anything to avoid her touch. His head is bent, his eyes on the floor. This is the part he hates the most. He can feel the Queen hovering at his back, knows that Ronon is looking at him too.
“Now,” she nudges his hip with her boot. “Or shall I have one of my guard’s help you get started?”
Rodney shudders, the thought of the guard’s hands touching him again, touching him there finally making him move. The Queen has never touched him there, never made him submit to one of the guards, but somehow - somehow this is almost worse.
He takes a breath and slides his palm down to his thigh. The floor is cold against his knees.
+++
John remembers everything.
John remembered everything about the Hive ship. It had taken nearly a month to track it down - a few days longer for Zelenka to figure out a way around their shields. John had out-shouted both Elizabeth and Caldwell. They couldn’t just beam a nuke aboard, not without at least making sure that Rodney and Ronon were dead.
If there was any chance, any chance at all…
He’d led the four-person rescue team - himself, Lorne, Teyla and a highly freaked out Zelenka. It had been almost too easy once they got aboard.
They found Ronon first. He was tucked away in one of the hibernation pods, half-starved and more than a little crazy. The moment Zelenka deactivated the pod, Ronon had lunged forward, his hands wrapping around Zelenka’s throat. Almost as sudden, his eyes had cleared and he’d grunted out, “McKay.”
Ronon had shrugged away Teyla’s hand and strode past them, pausing only long enough to grab Zelenka’s P-90. They’d had no choice but to follow.
Ronon killed the guard outside Rodney’s cell with his bare hands.
John had already expected the worst, expected Rodney drained nearly to the point of death. What he saw when that cell door slid open was immeasurably worse.
Rodney’s face was fixed in a serene smile, his eyes hazy. He was on his knees, completely naked. His hands were shackled behind his back, the wrist cuffs attached to his ankles by a long silver chain. He was terribly pale, his skin almost translucent in the dim light. The only color came from the tattoos - intricate patterns that decorated his chest and shoulders, trailing down his belly.
It was only when John got closer that he realized that the patterns weren’t tattoos. They were cuts.
+++
TBC
Fandom:Stargate Atlantis
Pairing, etc: McKay/Sheppard, implied McKay/Dex
Word Count: around 1500
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Takes place after Allies, so all of Season 2 generally
Warnings: this is not my usual light-hearted PWP. But Rodney is just so beautiful damaged…implied non-con, Rodney!torture
Author's Notes: my mind is a very scary place. Thanks to scifijunkie for the beta. (her mind is also a very scary place) Also - this is for one of my 50kinkyways prompts. I just haven't decided which one yet
This is what Rodney remembers.
Rodney huddles against the damp walls of his cell trying to ignore the ache in his shoulders. His hands are secured behind his back; the slender chains are surprisingly strong even though he can barely feel their weight around his wrists.
He can hear her coming, the dull ring of her boots against the floor, the accompanying footsteps of her guards. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he can get through this. He can survive. He just has to hold on - has to stay alive and keep Ronon alive - help will come. Sheppard will come.
He raises his head when the cell door slides open. She comes in by herself - that’s how it always starts. But he knows the others will be waiting just out of sight. She likes an audience - likes to serve up that extra bit of humiliation.
She strikes a pose in the doorway, and this is all part of the game too. She wants him to look at her - will force him to if he tries to turn his head or close his eyes. Every time he swallows, the bruises circling his neck remind him of the last time he refused to look.
Her long hair gleams in the soft light, the dark mass free around her shoulders, streaks of silver woven throughout. It the's kind of luxurious hair he’s seen in shampoo commercials and again he’s struck by the strange combination of beauty and beast.
Today she wears white, the dress snug against her body, outlining each curve and muscle. The dress is slit up the side, and when she moves forward, he can see the smooth expanse of one long leg. She holds out a hand to him, a graceful movement that makes the slightly belled sleeve of her dress flutter.
Even though he knows what comes next - because he knows what comes next -- he can’t stop the shiver of disgust that runs though him.
She sees it of course, and steps even closer, her mouth curving into a smile. “Hello, pet. Are you ready to serve me?”
The tip of the Hive Queen’s finger slides along his cheek and even as Rodney nods, some small part of him begins to silently scream.
+++
John remembers everything.
John shifted forward in his chair and straightened the rumpled covers on Rodney’s infirmary bed. He still couldn’t quite believe that he’d found him alive. He’d hoped, of course, but he was enough of a realist to know that the chances that Rodney and Ronon would still be alive after almost a month aboard a Hive ship were remote.
“You should go to bed, Colonel.” Carson’s voice was rough from lack of sleep, and the dark circles under his eyes mirrored John’s. “Rodney will be fine… eventually.”
“Yeah, Doc, about that--” John started.
Carson cut him off, “Out in the hall please. Rodney needs his sleep.”
John followed him out after one last lingering glance at Rodney’s huddled form.
Carson waited until the door slid shut before speaking. “You were briefed on this Colonel, along with Elizabeth. The main problem is dehydration and malnourishment. The Wraith provided him with just enough to keep him alive. We’re taking care of that with IV fluids. The cuts, although quite numerous, were shallow for the most part. As for the chemical we found in his blood, well, he’s already metabolized most of it. Within the next twenty-four hours or so his levels should be back to normal.”
John scrubbed a hand across his face. “Have you learned anything else about the chemical?”
“Not really, no. It has properties similar to the Wraith enzyme and something like sodium penthanol.”
“Truth serum?”
“Not exactly. From what you described, and what Ronon remembers, it was likely administered by the Queen to heighten his senses and increase Rodney’s suggestibility.” Carson’s voice lowered. “Frankly, I think Rodney’s physical recovery will be easy. It’s the other that I worry about.”
John faked a smile he didn’t feel and clapped Carson on the shoulder. “Come on, don’t worry about that. Rodney’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Carson’s eyes were troubled. “I hope you’re right.”
+++
This is what Rodney remembers.
“How is my pet today?”
Rodney jerks awake at the sibilant whisper, his heart thudding in his chest.
The Queen is crouched over him, that same vicious smile on her face. “I’m ready to play, pet. On your feet.” Even as she speaks, she gestures toward one of the guards.
Before Rodney can scramble up, a cold hand wraps around his bare arm and pulls him to his feet. The feel of the guard’s hand makes his skin crawl and he wants to protest. He hates this - his body exposed, no control over anything. He bites his lip instead, and resists the urge to wipe at the spot where the guard touched him. He’s learned to keep his mouth shut the hard way.
“Have you been good?” The Queen reaches out, her fingers brushing through his hair.
Rodney meets her gaze, forcing a serene expression to his face. He can’t bring himself to speak, but she seems to accept his small nod as assent. Don’t think about it, just stay alive. Sheppard will come.
The hand in his hair slides down, her nails scraping across the tender skin of his throat. “Perhaps I’ll keep you and the Runner around a little longer.” She nods toward one of the guards. “Bring the other one in.”
Even with his hands shackled it takes four of the Wraith guards to maneuver Ronon into the cell. Ronon’s eyes are wild and through the thick gag Rodney can hear the wordless sounds of his rage. The guards shackle Ronon to the wall, his arms outstretched on either side of his head.
Rodney can feel Ronon’s eyes moving over him, and he is once again reminded of his nudity. He can feel the disgust in the other man’s gaze.
“Such spirit.” The Queen’s voice holds a note of admiration. “It would be a shame to kill him…today.” The hand against Rodney’s throat moves lower, her nails cutting into his skin. “Come along now pet, let’s show the Runner what you’ve learned.” She shoves him toward Ronon, pushing hard enough that Rodney stumbles.
Rodney sinks to his knees without being told, anything to avoid her touch. His head is bent, his eyes on the floor. This is the part he hates the most. He can feel the Queen hovering at his back, knows that Ronon is looking at him too.
“Now,” she nudges his hip with her boot. “Or shall I have one of my guard’s help you get started?”
Rodney shudders, the thought of the guard’s hands touching him again, touching him there finally making him move. The Queen has never touched him there, never made him submit to one of the guards, but somehow - somehow this is almost worse.
He takes a breath and slides his palm down to his thigh. The floor is cold against his knees.
+++
John remembers everything.
John remembered everything about the Hive ship. It had taken nearly a month to track it down - a few days longer for Zelenka to figure out a way around their shields. John had out-shouted both Elizabeth and Caldwell. They couldn’t just beam a nuke aboard, not without at least making sure that Rodney and Ronon were dead.
If there was any chance, any chance at all…
He’d led the four-person rescue team - himself, Lorne, Teyla and a highly freaked out Zelenka. It had been almost too easy once they got aboard.
They found Ronon first. He was tucked away in one of the hibernation pods, half-starved and more than a little crazy. The moment Zelenka deactivated the pod, Ronon had lunged forward, his hands wrapping around Zelenka’s throat. Almost as sudden, his eyes had cleared and he’d grunted out, “McKay.”
Ronon had shrugged away Teyla’s hand and strode past them, pausing only long enough to grab Zelenka’s P-90. They’d had no choice but to follow.
Ronon killed the guard outside Rodney’s cell with his bare hands.
John had already expected the worst, expected Rodney drained nearly to the point of death. What he saw when that cell door slid open was immeasurably worse.
Rodney’s face was fixed in a serene smile, his eyes hazy. He was on his knees, completely naked. His hands were shackled behind his back, the wrist cuffs attached to his ankles by a long silver chain. He was terribly pale, his skin almost translucent in the dim light. The only color came from the tattoos - intricate patterns that decorated his chest and shoulders, trailing down his belly.
It was only when John got closer that he realized that the patterns weren’t tattoos. They were cuts.
+++
TBC