Long Time No J
Location: along the lake, but not near Sheppard's house
Time: the night of the day Jack visits Ianto
Characters: John Sheppard, Jack Harkness
Rating: J for jogging.
Summary: John and Jack run into each other on the shore of Lake Ontario, whilst both out on pensive late-night runs/walks.
John slipped out of bed around three a.m., pulled on his sweats and a pair of sneakers, and let himself out of the house. It was pitch-dark outside, though the moon had risen some twenty minutes ago. The moon, low on the eastern horizon, was a slim crescent, having almost waned completely, and John could see the dark part of it, barely lit by reflected earthshine, like a shadowy, missing piece of the circle. He ran towards it, sandy loam shifting beneath his steps.
For once, he wasn't running away. Rodney was sleeping in the house, and for the first time in a long time, John was alone, not just in body, but in his head too, and it was so, so quiet. There was no familiar warm presence in the back of his mind, nobody making scoffing remarks by his side.
This loneliness, it wasn't like when he'd first come to Aternaville, when he'd thought Rodney was gone. It was like snow, and ice; it was the long Antarctic day and the long Antarctic night, right after Afghanistan, before he'd gotten used to the cold.
The thing was, Rodney, back in his own body, was there a lot more than he'd been when he'd been a ghost in John's head, and he was demanding and difficult and frustrated and scared, and John felt a little bit like he was suffocating in it. He needed some air, and he needed to feel the wind in his hair, and the ground very far away, but he hadn't felt like he could leave Rodney alone, even for a minute, since Zelenka had dropped by to put things right.
Tonight, though, he couldn't stand it any more, and so he'd slipped out of bed, he'd pulled on his sweats and his sneakers, and he'd gone for a run. He'd be back long before McKay woke up, and he'd be quiet, so quiet, sneaking out of and back into the house, so he didn't disturb that steady, healing slumber.
He needed this. It'd be fine. John ran, down the sand, along the shore, under the shadowy crescent moon.
Time: the night of the day Jack visits Ianto
Characters: John Sheppard, Jack Harkness
Rating: J for jogging.
Summary: John and Jack run into each other on the shore of Lake Ontario, whilst both out on pensive late-night runs/walks.
John slipped out of bed around three a.m., pulled on his sweats and a pair of sneakers, and let himself out of the house. It was pitch-dark outside, though the moon had risen some twenty minutes ago. The moon, low on the eastern horizon, was a slim crescent, having almost waned completely, and John could see the dark part of it, barely lit by reflected earthshine, like a shadowy, missing piece of the circle. He ran towards it, sandy loam shifting beneath his steps.
For once, he wasn't running away. Rodney was sleeping in the house, and for the first time in a long time, John was alone, not just in body, but in his head too, and it was so, so quiet. There was no familiar warm presence in the back of his mind, nobody making scoffing remarks by his side.
This loneliness, it wasn't like when he'd first come to Aternaville, when he'd thought Rodney was gone. It was like snow, and ice; it was the long Antarctic day and the long Antarctic night, right after Afghanistan, before he'd gotten used to the cold.
The thing was, Rodney, back in his own body, was there a lot more than he'd been when he'd been a ghost in John's head, and he was demanding and difficult and frustrated and scared, and John felt a little bit like he was suffocating in it. He needed some air, and he needed to feel the wind in his hair, and the ground very far away, but he hadn't felt like he could leave Rodney alone, even for a minute, since Zelenka had dropped by to put things right.
Tonight, though, he couldn't stand it any more, and so he'd slipped out of bed, he'd pulled on his sweats and his sneakers, and he'd gone for a run. He'd be back long before McKay woke up, and he'd be quiet, so quiet, sneaking out of and back into the house, so he didn't disturb that steady, healing slumber.
He needed this. It'd be fine. John ran, down the sand, along the shore, under the shadowy crescent moon.