Fic. 'Bring Her Home'
Title: Bring Her Home
Summary: He'd almost lost her and the thought scared him more than he could ever imagine.
Rating: K+
Notes: For sga_rarepairings fic battle.
Bring Her Home, Sheppard/Teyla, 'Bring Her Home', K
John tucked her against him, her head lolling against his neck, her back propped up by his chest. He did not like the way her body leant against him, lifeless and cold but he knew there was nothing any of them could do until they got back to Atlantis.
John lifted his eyes to the forward compartment of the Jumper; to Rodney and Ronon, pilot and co-pilot. They hadn’t needed instructions when they’d reached the Jumper and John was glad he hadn’t had to utter the words.
They were Rodney and Ronon.
They got it.
He shifted slightly when she flinched in his arms, a quiet moan escaping her lips. He ducked his head into her neck and tightened his grip around her waist. The hatch dug into his back and his butt cheeks were sore from sitting on the hard metal of the ground but he didn’t move; couldn’t let her go.
She smelled of blood and sweat and dampness and John pressed his cheek to her clammy temple, hushing her quiet whimpers with soothing words and strokes that he knew Rodney and Ronon would choose not to see.
He’d almost lost her, and the thought scared him more than he could possibly have ever hoped to imagine. Guilt coiled in his gut whenever his arm moved against her flat stomach.
“John...”
She didn’t sound like Teyla and she didn’t feel like Teyla in his arms. She felt alien and foreign, battered and bloody and mangled. He didn’t like it. But it was her and she was alive and there was nothing else he could do for her until they got back to Atlantis.
Rodney and Ronon, he could see, were pretending to be busy.
“I’m here.”
He heard the sigh, the gentle outlet of breath as her body relaxed against his, pushing him further into the rear hatch. He wouldn’t complain. She didn’t say anything else and for a moment, he thought the worst. He hated thinking the worst.
He closed his eyes, the raw pain pushing its way up his body, past his heart and lungs and out through in mouth in a soft, almost silent sob. His grip on her tightened as the tears threatened his lids. He squeezed his eyes shut, muffling his hitched breaths in her matted hair.
He opened his eyes and turned them to Ronon who stood at the threshold of the bulkhead and the rear compartment, his eyes downcast and pretending not to look.
“We’re here.”
John nodded evanescently and watched for a moment as Ronon turned away again. He took a breath, and another, trying to calm his pounding heart.
He tucked her closer to him, his face disappearing into her hair.
They were home.
Summary: He'd almost lost her and the thought scared him more than he could ever imagine.
Rating: K+
Notes: For sga_rarepairings fic battle.
Bring Her Home, Sheppard/Teyla, 'Bring Her Home', K
John tucked her against him, her head lolling against his neck, her back propped up by his chest. He did not like the way her body leant against him, lifeless and cold but he knew there was nothing any of them could do until they got back to Atlantis.
John lifted his eyes to the forward compartment of the Jumper; to Rodney and Ronon, pilot and co-pilot. They hadn’t needed instructions when they’d reached the Jumper and John was glad he hadn’t had to utter the words.
They were Rodney and Ronon.
They got it.
He shifted slightly when she flinched in his arms, a quiet moan escaping her lips. He ducked his head into her neck and tightened his grip around her waist. The hatch dug into his back and his butt cheeks were sore from sitting on the hard metal of the ground but he didn’t move; couldn’t let her go.
She smelled of blood and sweat and dampness and John pressed his cheek to her clammy temple, hushing her quiet whimpers with soothing words and strokes that he knew Rodney and Ronon would choose not to see.
He’d almost lost her, and the thought scared him more than he could possibly have ever hoped to imagine. Guilt coiled in his gut whenever his arm moved against her flat stomach.
“John...”
She didn’t sound like Teyla and she didn’t feel like Teyla in his arms. She felt alien and foreign, battered and bloody and mangled. He didn’t like it. But it was her and she was alive and there was nothing else he could do for her until they got back to Atlantis.
Rodney and Ronon, he could see, were pretending to be busy.
“I’m here.”
He heard the sigh, the gentle outlet of breath as her body relaxed against his, pushing him further into the rear hatch. He wouldn’t complain. She didn’t say anything else and for a moment, he thought the worst. He hated thinking the worst.
He closed his eyes, the raw pain pushing its way up his body, past his heart and lungs and out through in mouth in a soft, almost silent sob. His grip on her tightened as the tears threatened his lids. He squeezed his eyes shut, muffling his hitched breaths in her matted hair.
He opened his eyes and turned them to Ronon who stood at the threshold of the bulkhead and the rear compartment, his eyes downcast and pretending not to look.
“We’re here.”
John nodded evanescently and watched for a moment as Ronon turned away again. He took a breath, and another, trying to calm his pounding heart.
He tucked her closer to him, his face disappearing into her hair.
They were home.