Fic: Cobweb Afternoon (SGA, John, Rodney) PG-13
Title: Cobweb Afternoon
Author: tigerlady
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit being made from this.
Summary: Afterwards.
Spoilers: Sunday.
Notes: I needed emotional hurt/comfort for myself, which is the only reason I wrote this. But I thought maybe some of you might want to read, so I'm posting. :) 900 words.
Fifteen seconds after the blast rocks the city, Rodney jerks his gaze away from John's and starts running.
John's feet unfreeze. He gets there ten seconds before Rodney, twenty before Radek. It's enough time to know that there's nothing to be done. He wants to stop them from seeing...from seeing... His own eyes try to unsee it, his brain tries to unknow it, and by then, it's too late.
"Oh, God no," Rodney says, his voice cracking like John's did when he hit thirteen and two months. "No, no, no."
"Tell me that is not Carson," Radek says. Rodney ignores him. John can only shake his head, even though he should nod. It's cruel to keep hope alive. But he can't confirm it, not when he's waiting for Carson to round the corner, heading the trauma team rushing up with their useless bags and oxygen and stethoscopes.
"Oh, no," Radek says, realizing the truth himself as he sees the young female doctor draw back, hand flying up to cover her horrified gasp. John knows her name, he knows he knows it, but he can't remember it right now. He'll have to fake it if he talks to her, call her 'Doc'.
Carson never minds when John calls him 'Doc'.
Rodney snaps his fingers in John's face. "Do we even have a second ordnance disposal team? I don't think anything else is a danger, but, well. Better safe than even sorrier, hmm?"
Rodney's mouth dips low, a sour frown dedicated to his own black humor. Or maybe to the smell in the corridor: burnt carbon and metal and organic matter.
John hits his radio. "Wu, Portage, get down here."
"On our way, Sir," they say, followed immediately by Elizabeth's, "John? What happened?"
"You need to get down here, Elizabeth," he says, and ignores the rest of her questions. He doesn't want her to come, but he knows she needs to, for herself. "Just get down here."
His brain is still scrambled. He can feel it. Luckily, Rodney doesn't seem to have that problem. He's ordering people around with his usual directness and efficiency, finger-snaps and shoves included. He keeps moving, insuring the safety of the city, organizing the cleanup.
"He wanted to go home," Rodney says suddenly, not to anyone in particular. John takes a step forward, but then Rodney shakes his head, points a finger at the female doctor. John's not sure why she's still here. "You! Can you make that happen? Can we send him home?"
"Of course, Doctor McKay," she murmurs.
John realizes the body is gone. Somehow they took Carson's body away, and he can't remember it happening.
Rodney nods. "Good, good."
"Rodney," Radek says quietly. Flecks of black are stuck to his cheeks, and tears are trying to wash them away. "Go, take some time. Others can do this."
Rodney shakes his head. "No, thank you. This is my responsibility."
Rodney stays, so John stays. So does Radek. Elizabeth shows up, pale and already shaking when she steps through the door. John escorts her to the morgue. He's glad when she decides not to look.
He's glad when she nods decisively and leaves, saying something about needing to do something. He's not sure what. But Rodney's still busy, still ordering people around, and John knows he has to wait.
Finally, there's nothing else that can be done to fill up time.
John follows Rodney back to his quarters. He's not even sure if Rodney knows he's there. When he steps through the doors, John doesn't wait for an invitation. Rodney turns.
John's not sure how it happens. Whether he actually opens his arms and says something, or if Rodney just collapses on him. But one minute Rodney's staring at John like he doesn't know his own name, and the next they're huddled on the floor next to the bed, Rodney sobbing in John's arms.
"So stupid, stupid, stupid," is the chant John finally makes out. "Oh, God, why? Why didn't I just... So, so stupid."
John closes his eyes. "It's not your fault," he whispers against Rodney's forehead, but he knows the words don't get through. They never do. "Not your fault," he says again anyway.
John's face is wet, but he doesn't think it's from his own tears. It hasn't really hit him yet, not emotionally. He's still free-falling a mile up, with no sign of landing any time soon.
He hangs onto Rodney, hard.
"God, why?" Rodney repeats. The words are whistle-thready, strangled by a tear-swollen throat. "Why did he have to do that?"
"Cause he was a hero," John says, without thinking, because it's true. But Rodney goes still.
"Stupid," Rodney swears vehemently this time. He's shaking his head, though the movement is jerky and angry. John pulls back, just enough to protect his eye socket from a good bruising. "Don't ever... Don't ever do that, okay? Don't ever be stupid like that."
John swallows. He buries his face in Rodney's hair, and now he can feel the wetness building in his eyes.
"Just say it, damn it," Rodney yells. "Just, please?"
"I won't," John says. His fingers are curled tight into Rodney's shirt, but he curls them tighter. Licks his lips. "And I won't let you be stupid, either. I promise. Okay?"
Rodney shakes his head one more time, but John's words work. A few more sniffles, and then Rodney relaxes in that way that says he's finished, it's time to move back and pretend it never happened.
John unclenches his hands. Spreads his fingers wide, and pulls Rodney closer.
They can pretend later.
Author: tigerlady
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit being made from this.
Summary: Afterwards.
Spoilers: Sunday.
Notes: I needed emotional hurt/comfort for myself, which is the only reason I wrote this. But I thought maybe some of you might want to read, so I'm posting. :) 900 words.
Fifteen seconds after the blast rocks the city, Rodney jerks his gaze away from John's and starts running.
John's feet unfreeze. He gets there ten seconds before Rodney, twenty before Radek. It's enough time to know that there's nothing to be done. He wants to stop them from seeing...from seeing... His own eyes try to unsee it, his brain tries to unknow it, and by then, it's too late.
"Oh, God no," Rodney says, his voice cracking like John's did when he hit thirteen and two months. "No, no, no."
"Tell me that is not Carson," Radek says. Rodney ignores him. John can only shake his head, even though he should nod. It's cruel to keep hope alive. But he can't confirm it, not when he's waiting for Carson to round the corner, heading the trauma team rushing up with their useless bags and oxygen and stethoscopes.
"Oh, no," Radek says, realizing the truth himself as he sees the young female doctor draw back, hand flying up to cover her horrified gasp. John knows her name, he knows he knows it, but he can't remember it right now. He'll have to fake it if he talks to her, call her 'Doc'.
Carson never minds when John calls him 'Doc'.
Rodney snaps his fingers in John's face. "Do we even have a second ordnance disposal team? I don't think anything else is a danger, but, well. Better safe than even sorrier, hmm?"
Rodney's mouth dips low, a sour frown dedicated to his own black humor. Or maybe to the smell in the corridor: burnt carbon and metal and organic matter.
John hits his radio. "Wu, Portage, get down here."
"On our way, Sir," they say, followed immediately by Elizabeth's, "John? What happened?"
"You need to get down here, Elizabeth," he says, and ignores the rest of her questions. He doesn't want her to come, but he knows she needs to, for herself. "Just get down here."
His brain is still scrambled. He can feel it. Luckily, Rodney doesn't seem to have that problem. He's ordering people around with his usual directness and efficiency, finger-snaps and shoves included. He keeps moving, insuring the safety of the city, organizing the cleanup.
"He wanted to go home," Rodney says suddenly, not to anyone in particular. John takes a step forward, but then Rodney shakes his head, points a finger at the female doctor. John's not sure why she's still here. "You! Can you make that happen? Can we send him home?"
"Of course, Doctor McKay," she murmurs.
John realizes the body is gone. Somehow they took Carson's body away, and he can't remember it happening.
Rodney nods. "Good, good."
"Rodney," Radek says quietly. Flecks of black are stuck to his cheeks, and tears are trying to wash them away. "Go, take some time. Others can do this."
Rodney shakes his head. "No, thank you. This is my responsibility."
Rodney stays, so John stays. So does Radek. Elizabeth shows up, pale and already shaking when she steps through the door. John escorts her to the morgue. He's glad when she decides not to look.
He's glad when she nods decisively and leaves, saying something about needing to do something. He's not sure what. But Rodney's still busy, still ordering people around, and John knows he has to wait.
Finally, there's nothing else that can be done to fill up time.
John follows Rodney back to his quarters. He's not even sure if Rodney knows he's there. When he steps through the doors, John doesn't wait for an invitation. Rodney turns.
John's not sure how it happens. Whether he actually opens his arms and says something, or if Rodney just collapses on him. But one minute Rodney's staring at John like he doesn't know his own name, and the next they're huddled on the floor next to the bed, Rodney sobbing in John's arms.
"So stupid, stupid, stupid," is the chant John finally makes out. "Oh, God, why? Why didn't I just... So, so stupid."
John closes his eyes. "It's not your fault," he whispers against Rodney's forehead, but he knows the words don't get through. They never do. "Not your fault," he says again anyway.
John's face is wet, but he doesn't think it's from his own tears. It hasn't really hit him yet, not emotionally. He's still free-falling a mile up, with no sign of landing any time soon.
He hangs onto Rodney, hard.
"God, why?" Rodney repeats. The words are whistle-thready, strangled by a tear-swollen throat. "Why did he have to do that?"
"Cause he was a hero," John says, without thinking, because it's true. But Rodney goes still.
"Stupid," Rodney swears vehemently this time. He's shaking his head, though the movement is jerky and angry. John pulls back, just enough to protect his eye socket from a good bruising. "Don't ever... Don't ever do that, okay? Don't ever be stupid like that."
John swallows. He buries his face in Rodney's hair, and now he can feel the wetness building in his eyes.
"Just say it, damn it," Rodney yells. "Just, please?"
"I won't," John says. His fingers are curled tight into Rodney's shirt, but he curls them tighter. Licks his lips. "And I won't let you be stupid, either. I promise. Okay?"
Rodney shakes his head one more time, but John's words work. A few more sniffles, and then Rodney relaxes in that way that says he's finished, it's time to move back and pretend it never happened.
John unclenches his hands. Spreads his fingers wide, and pulls Rodney closer.
They can pretend later.