Fic: Okay, John/Rodney, PG
Title: Okay (John/Rodney)
Author: amireal
Rating: PG, ~1000 words
Summary: It was a shitty day from the start.
Author's note: Um. Unbeta'd (as in, only reread by me), but there's not a lot of dialogue, so the worst of my troubles shouldn't be aparent. I reread it several times but I have had a Bad Day and I'm pretty tired. Just point 'em out and I'll see what I can do. This story is very short and very to the point and my own way of dealing with the most frustrating day in the entire world.
It was a shitty day from the start. Nothing big or dramatic happened and Rodney, if pressed, would admit that he woke up with a little left over annoyance from the big thing that had happened the day before.
The coffee was cold and gritty, the not-eggs contaminated with that fungus that made his stomach cramp and the knot between his shoulder blades had reappeared after having mated with a tennis ball.
The most insulting thing was that nothing was working right. Oh the lights were on and the water was running (hot and cold) and nothing was backing up and leaving a putrid stench curling in everyone’s nostrils. It was the simple shit that Rodney could do in his sleep, except apparently today, everything was the exception.
The computer chugging the equations for shield harmonic project kept hanging in the middle and never in the same damn place. It was software side, Rodney knew it, but didn’t have time to really look at it himself so he had to resigned himself to the frustration of letting someone else take twice as long to stare at the coding. After that two bits of hardware that had always played nice in the past decided not to work. Sure it was a new bit of hardware on the left, but it was the exact same type of hardware as before. It should have worked but refused to even sputter to life.
After that everything seemed to get under Rodney’s skin, stupid shit that even Rodney would admit was petty. His chair kept slipping to the right and something about Rodney’s lean that day meant that his abdomen kept getting poked with the sharp edge of the table. Then he hit his elbow crawling out from under a piece of equipment.
Sometime after a dreadfully soggy lunch, Rodney was hunched over yet another computer, glaring as the new software patch didn’t take hold. A sharp thud of pain lanced through his chest and Rodney’s heart nearly stopped as his hand raced to his ear piece. It faded and then bloomed again. His hand slowed. He recognized the pain and took two deep breathes before contorting his arm around to his back and levering it so that his thumb could jab at the muscle next to his right shoulder blade. Hissing in relief as he literally felt his chest relax Rodney made sure to keep the pressure up as much as possible through another six deep and long breaths.
“Shut down! Shut down!” Was screamed from the other side of the lab and Rodney’s fingers just weren’t nimble enough to get from behind his back to the emergency cut off on time to save the damn thing and the monitor sparked at him angrily and then cut out.
“Goddamnit!” Rodney yelled. “Anyone hurt?” He started at the dead machine in front of him.
He let the first waves of “we’re fine” was over him. “Damage?” He was still starting at the screen?
“Just blocks 16 and 167.” That was Radek’s voice from across the room.
“Just those two blocks?” Rodney asked his voice raising quickly. “Just those two blocks? You mean just Ferguson’s,” Rodney had recognized the voice, “and my station?”
“Yes we are luck-“
Radek was cut off by Rodney bodily shoving the useless and practically smoking piece of equipment off the counter. It crashed loudly and violently, it took no more than a half second to complete its fall but it was long enough. After that, all that he could hear was his own heavy breathing.
“Hey, is everyone okay?” Sheppard’s voice called into the lack of din and Rodney didn’t even have to look in his direction to know there would be a worried face only a bit flushed from running to the labs. “Wow, what happened? Rodney you-“
Rodney didn’t stay to listen. No one was hurt and nothing was in imminent danger of exploding. He’d read the report tomorrow, he just had to leave.
Within his first week on Atlantis, Rodney had learned that by walking fast and with purpose, he could avoid a lot of people. A few weeks after, he had learned that he found it acceptable for of burning off some extra energy. Rodney ended up walking a lot, a long circuitous route from lab to his room that took him along one of the outer rings of Atlantis’s main body. It also had a great view and it helped burn off the worst of the crawling anger and the urge to just lash out. Now he was just shaking with left over adrenaline and a cold scared feeling, all that was left over of his urge to hit something-anything.
“Hey.” Sheppard was sitting easily on Rodney’s bed when he stepped inside.
“I am not in the mood.” Rodney said, letting the door slide shut.
“No kidding.” Sheppard smiled at him, his lips curving up gently. “Sit down.”
Rodney kicked his shoes off and thought about maybe going for a shower instead. “Fine.” He slumped onto the bed, sitting hip to hip with Sheppard, their legs bent at ninety degrees off the side.
“Just so you know, we’re not going to talk about it.” Sheppard said. “Unless it turns out you’ve had a psychotic break.” He spoke over Rodney’s quiet, ‘oh thank god.’
“Not psychotic.” Rodney said. “Yet.”
“About what I figured.” Sheppard turned a bit, to face him. “Everything okay?”
“I thought we weren’t talking about it?” Rodney brought the heel of his hand to his eyes, rubbing heavily.
“What?” Sheppard’s eyes went wide. “I can’t ask you if you’re okay? In a general sort of sense?”
“No.” Rodney said. “No you can’t.” Then he let himself tip over and fall gently to the bed, landing neatly on his side, curled around Sheppard’s sitting body. “No, I’m not okay.”
“Yeah buddy.” Sheppard whispered, his hand resting on Rodney’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “That’s fine with me.” He scooted down a few inches and then let himself fall carefully next to Rodney, curling his back into Rodney’s warmth. A hand slowly wound its way under John’s arm and then splayed tensely on his stomach. Sheppard captured the fingers in his own, threading them carefully and Rodney’s fingers finally relaxed into half curls.
THE END
Author: amireal
Rating: PG, ~1000 words
Summary: It was a shitty day from the start.
Author's note: Um. Unbeta'd (as in, only reread by me), but there's not a lot of dialogue, so the worst of my troubles shouldn't be aparent. I reread it several times but I have had a Bad Day and I'm pretty tired. Just point 'em out and I'll see what I can do. This story is very short and very to the point and my own way of dealing with the most frustrating day in the entire world.
It was a shitty day from the start. Nothing big or dramatic happened and Rodney, if pressed, would admit that he woke up with a little left over annoyance from the big thing that had happened the day before.
The coffee was cold and gritty, the not-eggs contaminated with that fungus that made his stomach cramp and the knot between his shoulder blades had reappeared after having mated with a tennis ball.
The most insulting thing was that nothing was working right. Oh the lights were on and the water was running (hot and cold) and nothing was backing up and leaving a putrid stench curling in everyone’s nostrils. It was the simple shit that Rodney could do in his sleep, except apparently today, everything was the exception.
The computer chugging the equations for shield harmonic project kept hanging in the middle and never in the same damn place. It was software side, Rodney knew it, but didn’t have time to really look at it himself so he had to resigned himself to the frustration of letting someone else take twice as long to stare at the coding. After that two bits of hardware that had always played nice in the past decided not to work. Sure it was a new bit of hardware on the left, but it was the exact same type of hardware as before. It should have worked but refused to even sputter to life.
After that everything seemed to get under Rodney’s skin, stupid shit that even Rodney would admit was petty. His chair kept slipping to the right and something about Rodney’s lean that day meant that his abdomen kept getting poked with the sharp edge of the table. Then he hit his elbow crawling out from under a piece of equipment.
Sometime after a dreadfully soggy lunch, Rodney was hunched over yet another computer, glaring as the new software patch didn’t take hold. A sharp thud of pain lanced through his chest and Rodney’s heart nearly stopped as his hand raced to his ear piece. It faded and then bloomed again. His hand slowed. He recognized the pain and took two deep breathes before contorting his arm around to his back and levering it so that his thumb could jab at the muscle next to his right shoulder blade. Hissing in relief as he literally felt his chest relax Rodney made sure to keep the pressure up as much as possible through another six deep and long breaths.
“Shut down! Shut down!” Was screamed from the other side of the lab and Rodney’s fingers just weren’t nimble enough to get from behind his back to the emergency cut off on time to save the damn thing and the monitor sparked at him angrily and then cut out.
“Goddamnit!” Rodney yelled. “Anyone hurt?” He started at the dead machine in front of him.
He let the first waves of “we’re fine” was over him. “Damage?” He was still starting at the screen?
“Just blocks 16 and 167.” That was Radek’s voice from across the room.
“Just those two blocks?” Rodney asked his voice raising quickly. “Just those two blocks? You mean just Ferguson’s,” Rodney had recognized the voice, “and my station?”
“Yes we are luck-“
Radek was cut off by Rodney bodily shoving the useless and practically smoking piece of equipment off the counter. It crashed loudly and violently, it took no more than a half second to complete its fall but it was long enough. After that, all that he could hear was his own heavy breathing.
“Hey, is everyone okay?” Sheppard’s voice called into the lack of din and Rodney didn’t even have to look in his direction to know there would be a worried face only a bit flushed from running to the labs. “Wow, what happened? Rodney you-“
Rodney didn’t stay to listen. No one was hurt and nothing was in imminent danger of exploding. He’d read the report tomorrow, he just had to leave.
Within his first week on Atlantis, Rodney had learned that by walking fast and with purpose, he could avoid a lot of people. A few weeks after, he had learned that he found it acceptable for of burning off some extra energy. Rodney ended up walking a lot, a long circuitous route from lab to his room that took him along one of the outer rings of Atlantis’s main body. It also had a great view and it helped burn off the worst of the crawling anger and the urge to just lash out. Now he was just shaking with left over adrenaline and a cold scared feeling, all that was left over of his urge to hit something-anything.
“Hey.” Sheppard was sitting easily on Rodney’s bed when he stepped inside.
“I am not in the mood.” Rodney said, letting the door slide shut.
“No kidding.” Sheppard smiled at him, his lips curving up gently. “Sit down.”
Rodney kicked his shoes off and thought about maybe going for a shower instead. “Fine.” He slumped onto the bed, sitting hip to hip with Sheppard, their legs bent at ninety degrees off the side.
“Just so you know, we’re not going to talk about it.” Sheppard said. “Unless it turns out you’ve had a psychotic break.” He spoke over Rodney’s quiet, ‘oh thank god.’
“Not psychotic.” Rodney said. “Yet.”
“About what I figured.” Sheppard turned a bit, to face him. “Everything okay?”
“I thought we weren’t talking about it?” Rodney brought the heel of his hand to his eyes, rubbing heavily.
“What?” Sheppard’s eyes went wide. “I can’t ask you if you’re okay? In a general sort of sense?”
“No.” Rodney said. “No you can’t.” Then he let himself tip over and fall gently to the bed, landing neatly on his side, curled around Sheppard’s sitting body. “No, I’m not okay.”
“Yeah buddy.” Sheppard whispered, his hand resting on Rodney’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “That’s fine with me.” He scooted down a few inches and then let himself fall carefully next to Rodney, curling his back into Rodney’s warmth. A hand slowly wound its way under John’s arm and then splayed tensely on his stomach. Sheppard captured the fingers in his own, threading them carefully and Rodney’s fingers finally relaxed into half curls.
THE END