[Stargate: Drabble] "Every Word" [John/Rodney, G]
Title: Every Word
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 850
Prompt: mcsheplets challenge #034 ‘unspoken’
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Summary: Ancient-device-induced telepathy is not as much fun as John would have thought.
Every Word
An Ancient device on P3X-27 gave John a telepathic link with Rodney that lasted forty-eight hours, and they were the longest two days of his life.
If he had thought about it beforehand- which, surprisingly, he hadn’t- John figured he would probably have enjoyed it. He and Rodney had already been able to communicate without words, but John thought that if he could hear Rodney’s thoughts directly, he would have known what he was actually working on when he was supposed to be listening during staff meetings, or which of his scientists he was secretly pleased with even as he ranted at them, or how he really managed not to twitch too much when Teyla made them meditate. And he would absolutely have taken Rodney to bed that night, to finally find out exactly what he always looked just about to say, but never did.
Of course, the reality was two days spent in the infirmary, doped up on painkillers for the massive headache he got trying to process two minds’ worth of thoughts. No, it had to be more than two- Rodney’s thoughts had to count for double anyone else’s, at least. John had known that Rodney’s brain was constantly running at full speed, but really, he’d had no clue.
Ideas raced through Rodney’s mind, too fast sometimes for John to even register. He was no slouch, himself, intelligence-wise- he’d passed the Mensa test, after all- but he had no hope at all of catching up with Rodney. And now that he could hear every fleeting thought that Rodney had, he was amazed at how little of that process actually came out of the other man’s mouth. Rodney talked more than anyone John had ever known, but there was so much he didn’t say that it was incredible.
John woke up on the third morning to a blissful silence in his brain, and Rodney standing awkwardly beside his infirmary bed.
“Hey,” said John, grinning, but Rodney didn’t smile back.
“Carson says there wasn’t any permanent damage,” he told John. He looked like he wanted to touch him, but was holding himself back. “Despite what I say most of the time, your brain is actually pretty important, Sheppard, and I, um… I tried to help, you know, but not thinking is much harder than it sounds. It’s like if someone says not to think about pink elephants, and of course, all you can think about is pink elephants. And I couldn’t let Zelenka work on that machine by himself, not when you were… well…so I had to…”
Rodney took a deep breath, not meeting John’s eyes. “There must have been something wrong with the machine. It wasn’t supposed to hurt, it was supposed to grant you ‘insight into another’ or some stupid new-age nonsense like that. But I’ve gone over every inch of it- twice!- and I can’t find a single… and now, I’m rambling after you’ve just-”
He broke off abruptly, as John sat up and pulled him into a fierce kiss.
“I’m sorry,” said John, when they broke for air. “I’m sorry for every time I even hinted that you talk too much.”
“I- What?” said Rodney.
“Maybe it didn’t malfunction. This stuff is usually keyed to the Ancients, so it probably only worked for me because my gene isn’t artificial.”
Rodney scowled. “Yes, you and your fantastic ATA gene.”
John grabbed his wrist, preventing Rodney from turning away, then slid his hand down to lace their fingers together.
“Rodney,” he said, softly. “I could hear everything you were thinking and it was just… too much. I couldn’t keep up.”
Rodney still looked upset. “So I was causing your headaches? Sheppard-”
He tried to pull away again, but John tightened his grip. “Rodney, you’re a genius. Yeah, you tell me that all the time, but I never really understood what that meant until now. Which, by the way, is now even hotter than I thought it was before.”
“I- What?” said Rodney, again.
“If that thing had worked right, or at least if I hadn’t been on so many painkillers that I couldn’t stand up under my own power, I’d have taken you straight to bed and abused my new psychic power to find out all those things you stop yourself from telling me.”
Rodney frowned, thoughtfully this time. “That really bothers you?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” said John, and he must have still been under the influence of something because he added, “I know you trust me not to hurt you, Rodney, but I wish you would trust me not to leave you.”
“I want to,” Rodney breathed. “God, I want to.”
“You’re stuck with me, Rodney,” said John, sliding his thumb lightly over the back of Rodney’s hand. “Never stop yourself from telling me anything.”
“Anything?” he asked, with a slightly nervous smile. “Because-”
“Anything,” John interrupted, pulling him down for a kiss.
When they broke for air, Rodney blinked at him for a moment, then snorted a soft laugh and nodded. “Okay.”
And for that, John just had to kiss him again.
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 850
Prompt: mcsheplets challenge #034 ‘unspoken’
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Summary: Ancient-device-induced telepathy is not as much fun as John would have thought.
Every Word
An Ancient device on P3X-27 gave John a telepathic link with Rodney that lasted forty-eight hours, and they were the longest two days of his life.
If he had thought about it beforehand- which, surprisingly, he hadn’t- John figured he would probably have enjoyed it. He and Rodney had already been able to communicate without words, but John thought that if he could hear Rodney’s thoughts directly, he would have known what he was actually working on when he was supposed to be listening during staff meetings, or which of his scientists he was secretly pleased with even as he ranted at them, or how he really managed not to twitch too much when Teyla made them meditate. And he would absolutely have taken Rodney to bed that night, to finally find out exactly what he always looked just about to say, but never did.
Of course, the reality was two days spent in the infirmary, doped up on painkillers for the massive headache he got trying to process two minds’ worth of thoughts. No, it had to be more than two- Rodney’s thoughts had to count for double anyone else’s, at least. John had known that Rodney’s brain was constantly running at full speed, but really, he’d had no clue.
Ideas raced through Rodney’s mind, too fast sometimes for John to even register. He was no slouch, himself, intelligence-wise- he’d passed the Mensa test, after all- but he had no hope at all of catching up with Rodney. And now that he could hear every fleeting thought that Rodney had, he was amazed at how little of that process actually came out of the other man’s mouth. Rodney talked more than anyone John had ever known, but there was so much he didn’t say that it was incredible.
John woke up on the third morning to a blissful silence in his brain, and Rodney standing awkwardly beside his infirmary bed.
“Hey,” said John, grinning, but Rodney didn’t smile back.
“Carson says there wasn’t any permanent damage,” he told John. He looked like he wanted to touch him, but was holding himself back. “Despite what I say most of the time, your brain is actually pretty important, Sheppard, and I, um… I tried to help, you know, but not thinking is much harder than it sounds. It’s like if someone says not to think about pink elephants, and of course, all you can think about is pink elephants. And I couldn’t let Zelenka work on that machine by himself, not when you were… well…so I had to…”
Rodney took a deep breath, not meeting John’s eyes. “There must have been something wrong with the machine. It wasn’t supposed to hurt, it was supposed to grant you ‘insight into another’ or some stupid new-age nonsense like that. But I’ve gone over every inch of it- twice!- and I can’t find a single… and now, I’m rambling after you’ve just-”
He broke off abruptly, as John sat up and pulled him into a fierce kiss.
“I’m sorry,” said John, when they broke for air. “I’m sorry for every time I even hinted that you talk too much.”
“I- What?” said Rodney.
“Maybe it didn’t malfunction. This stuff is usually keyed to the Ancients, so it probably only worked for me because my gene isn’t artificial.”
Rodney scowled. “Yes, you and your fantastic ATA gene.”
John grabbed his wrist, preventing Rodney from turning away, then slid his hand down to lace their fingers together.
“Rodney,” he said, softly. “I could hear everything you were thinking and it was just… too much. I couldn’t keep up.”
Rodney still looked upset. “So I was causing your headaches? Sheppard-”
He tried to pull away again, but John tightened his grip. “Rodney, you’re a genius. Yeah, you tell me that all the time, but I never really understood what that meant until now. Which, by the way, is now even hotter than I thought it was before.”
“I- What?” said Rodney, again.
“If that thing had worked right, or at least if I hadn’t been on so many painkillers that I couldn’t stand up under my own power, I’d have taken you straight to bed and abused my new psychic power to find out all those things you stop yourself from telling me.”
Rodney frowned, thoughtfully this time. “That really bothers you?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” said John, and he must have still been under the influence of something because he added, “I know you trust me not to hurt you, Rodney, but I wish you would trust me not to leave you.”
“I want to,” Rodney breathed. “God, I want to.”
“You’re stuck with me, Rodney,” said John, sliding his thumb lightly over the back of Rodney’s hand. “Never stop yourself from telling me anything.”
“Anything?” he asked, with a slightly nervous smile. “Because-”
“Anything,” John interrupted, pulling him down for a kiss.
When they broke for air, Rodney blinked at him for a moment, then snorted a soft laugh and nodded. “Okay.”
And for that, John just had to kiss him again.
THE END
Current Mood:
mellow