War Crimes [PG]
Title: War Crimes
Pairing: Carson/John
Genre: angst, h/c
Rating: PG
Word count: 1100
Summary: Every mission brought more worries, more guilt, and more demons - for John, for Carson, for everyone. They kept going, hoping to find the solution to everything.
AN: Many thanks to heimedall for the beta
Written for the West Wing title challenge.
"What are you doing?" Carson asked staring at the pile of clothes John had deposited on the bed.
"The kids' planet," John answered, half way into their clothes closet. "You know, there was time when I managed to keep order in my closet."
"Aye, when you had two uniforms and a commander that checked the lockers. Now what clothes do you need?" Carson asked, crouching besides John.
Carefully extracting himself, John answered, "I need something more formal."
Carson raised an eyebrow, "a celebration?"
"Quite the opposite: a trial. Apparently, they caught a spy, or something like that, and they decided to call us to mediate," John explained, looking down.
Gently pushing him away from the closet door, Carson asked, "what does Elizabeth say about this?"
John didn't say anything for a few moments, just stood there, staring at the floor, and biting his lower lip nervously. "You think she should go?" he asked finally.
"She is a diplomat and she has mediated before, so aye, I think she should go," Carson answered thoughtfully.
John began pacing. "They said Rodney and I should go. I suggested Elizabeth, but they insisted just the two of us went."
"They trust you," Carson said, rising.
"Yeah, well, that's the problem," John answered quickly, moving towards the window and away from him. "I'm not good at this. I could say something stupid and who knows..."
Carson stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around John, drawing him closer. "If they wanted you there, then they knew you had what they needed. There's no point in someone else going if they don't respect their opinion," he said softly.
"What if I mess this up?" John asked, relaxing a bit against him.
"You'll be honest and do your best. You can't mess it up."
~*~
Carson woke up, startled by the hissing of the bathroom door. Looking at his watch, he saw it was 2200 and John's mediator mission must have been over.
He sleepily made his way to the little kitchen they had and prepared tea for them. John rarely stayed for long in the bathroom, and never when he was alone. Carson sat at the table, two steaming cups of tea in front of him and waited patiently.
After a couple of minutes, John was sitting in front of him, staring at his cup. "What is it?" he asked blankly.
There were times when John came back from a mission anxious to talk about what happened, and there were the times when he seemed ready to disappear for a long time. There was no doubt for Carson this was one of them.
"Lemon tea," Carson answered.
John drank his tea quickly, sighing form time to time. When he was done, he got up, washed his cup and said softly, "thanks. I messed it up." Then he was gone, probably running on some deserted corridor, venting.
Carson left his half empty cup on the table and went back to bed, hoping John wouldn't take long. Either way, he was ready to wait.
~*~
It was cold outside and the wind was quite strong, but the blanket he had around his shoulders kept him warm. It was close to midnight and John was still somewhere in Atlantis, trying to get over this latest off-world mission.
Every mission brought more worries, more guilt, and more demons - for John, for Carson, for everyone. They kept going, hoping to find the solution to everything.
"Hey," John called from the door, "you're going to catch a cold."
Carson nodded, but didn't move. "I'll take a shower and you'll be in when I get back, okay?" John said softly.
Carson nodded again, and as he heard the water running in the bathroom, he got up and went to bed. A few minutes later, John joined him. "Why do you always wait for me?"
"I can't go to sleep knowing you're... troubled," Carson answered simply.
"They wanted to kill him because he tried to steal their ZPM. They said it was like he tried to kill them," John said, looking at his hands.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Carson finally said, "they would have been exposed to the Wraith, and it would have meant death, sooner or later."
"Yeah, but the kid who tried to steal it asked them if they wouldn't have done the same. He asked me if I wouldn't have done the same," John said, his voice shakier than usually. Carson tried to get him closer, but John gently pushed him away. "I would have. We... I did. We took their ZPM from them."
"What did you answer?"
"That I would have. You... you can't imagine how they looked at me. They asked us to leave," John said.
"You were honest, John, you can't blame -"
"How many times have I killed people thinking I was helping Atlantis?" John asked, looking straight into Carson's eyes.
"How many times would Atlantis have been destroyed if you hadn't done something? You know as well as I do that you must give something to gain something," Carson said firmly, holding his gaze.
"We only have fears and enemies, Carson. What have we won?"
Carson shook his head, "what answer do you want to that?"
"The honest one."
"We won another chance to try and fix things."
"How can you fix death?" John asked bitterly, turning his back to Carson and settling in to try and sleep.
~*~
Hours later, Carson was still awake, listening to John's breathing. They couldn't fix death; not even the Ancients could fix that. But death was just a consequence of mistakes, many mistakes that seemed to find them all the time, everywhere.
John turned in his uneasy sleep and mumbled something, growing more and more agitated. Carson moved closer, touching him. "It's okay," he kept whispering until John calmed down in his sleep. Carson closed his eyes, hoping he would finally fall asleep.
~*~
"Shh, it's just a dream," John said from somewhere above him and Carson opened his eyes, startled. His heart was beating wildly; he was scared.
John offered him a glass of water and he gladly accepted it. "It was pretty bad," John said, studying him. "Maybe you should take something to help you sleep."
Carson shook his head, "it's okay; I'll sleep without them."
"Do you remember what it was about?" John asked, taking the empty glass and placing it on the nightstand.
"The usual."
John got back in bed and hugged him, "sorry."
Carson closed his eyes and leaned into him; there was too much guilt.
Pairing: Carson/John
Genre: angst, h/c
Rating: PG
Word count: 1100
Summary: Every mission brought more worries, more guilt, and more demons - for John, for Carson, for everyone. They kept going, hoping to find the solution to everything.
AN: Many thanks to heimedall for the beta
Written for the West Wing title challenge.
"What are you doing?" Carson asked staring at the pile of clothes John had deposited on the bed.
"The kids' planet," John answered, half way into their clothes closet. "You know, there was time when I managed to keep order in my closet."
"Aye, when you had two uniforms and a commander that checked the lockers. Now what clothes do you need?" Carson asked, crouching besides John.
Carefully extracting himself, John answered, "I need something more formal."
Carson raised an eyebrow, "a celebration?"
"Quite the opposite: a trial. Apparently, they caught a spy, or something like that, and they decided to call us to mediate," John explained, looking down.
Gently pushing him away from the closet door, Carson asked, "what does Elizabeth say about this?"
John didn't say anything for a few moments, just stood there, staring at the floor, and biting his lower lip nervously. "You think she should go?" he asked finally.
"She is a diplomat and she has mediated before, so aye, I think she should go," Carson answered thoughtfully.
John began pacing. "They said Rodney and I should go. I suggested Elizabeth, but they insisted just the two of us went."
"They trust you," Carson said, rising.
"Yeah, well, that's the problem," John answered quickly, moving towards the window and away from him. "I'm not good at this. I could say something stupid and who knows..."
Carson stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around John, drawing him closer. "If they wanted you there, then they knew you had what they needed. There's no point in someone else going if they don't respect their opinion," he said softly.
"What if I mess this up?" John asked, relaxing a bit against him.
"You'll be honest and do your best. You can't mess it up."
~*~
Carson woke up, startled by the hissing of the bathroom door. Looking at his watch, he saw it was 2200 and John's mediator mission must have been over.
He sleepily made his way to the little kitchen they had and prepared tea for them. John rarely stayed for long in the bathroom, and never when he was alone. Carson sat at the table, two steaming cups of tea in front of him and waited patiently.
After a couple of minutes, John was sitting in front of him, staring at his cup. "What is it?" he asked blankly.
There were times when John came back from a mission anxious to talk about what happened, and there were the times when he seemed ready to disappear for a long time. There was no doubt for Carson this was one of them.
"Lemon tea," Carson answered.
John drank his tea quickly, sighing form time to time. When he was done, he got up, washed his cup and said softly, "thanks. I messed it up." Then he was gone, probably running on some deserted corridor, venting.
Carson left his half empty cup on the table and went back to bed, hoping John wouldn't take long. Either way, he was ready to wait.
~*~
It was cold outside and the wind was quite strong, but the blanket he had around his shoulders kept him warm. It was close to midnight and John was still somewhere in Atlantis, trying to get over this latest off-world mission.
Every mission brought more worries, more guilt, and more demons - for John, for Carson, for everyone. They kept going, hoping to find the solution to everything.
"Hey," John called from the door, "you're going to catch a cold."
Carson nodded, but didn't move. "I'll take a shower and you'll be in when I get back, okay?" John said softly.
Carson nodded again, and as he heard the water running in the bathroom, he got up and went to bed. A few minutes later, John joined him. "Why do you always wait for me?"
"I can't go to sleep knowing you're... troubled," Carson answered simply.
"They wanted to kill him because he tried to steal their ZPM. They said it was like he tried to kill them," John said, looking at his hands.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Carson finally said, "they would have been exposed to the Wraith, and it would have meant death, sooner or later."
"Yeah, but the kid who tried to steal it asked them if they wouldn't have done the same. He asked me if I wouldn't have done the same," John said, his voice shakier than usually. Carson tried to get him closer, but John gently pushed him away. "I would have. We... I did. We took their ZPM from them."
"What did you answer?"
"That I would have. You... you can't imagine how they looked at me. They asked us to leave," John said.
"You were honest, John, you can't blame -"
"How many times have I killed people thinking I was helping Atlantis?" John asked, looking straight into Carson's eyes.
"How many times would Atlantis have been destroyed if you hadn't done something? You know as well as I do that you must give something to gain something," Carson said firmly, holding his gaze.
"We only have fears and enemies, Carson. What have we won?"
Carson shook his head, "what answer do you want to that?"
"The honest one."
"We won another chance to try and fix things."
"How can you fix death?" John asked bitterly, turning his back to Carson and settling in to try and sleep.
~*~
Hours later, Carson was still awake, listening to John's breathing. They couldn't fix death; not even the Ancients could fix that. But death was just a consequence of mistakes, many mistakes that seemed to find them all the time, everywhere.
John turned in his uneasy sleep and mumbled something, growing more and more agitated. Carson moved closer, touching him. "It's okay," he kept whispering until John calmed down in his sleep. Carson closed his eyes, hoping he would finally fall asleep.
~*~
"Shh, it's just a dream," John said from somewhere above him and Carson opened his eyes, startled. His heart was beating wildly; he was scared.
John offered him a glass of water and he gladly accepted it. "It was pretty bad," John said, studying him. "Maybe you should take something to help you sleep."
Carson shook his head, "it's okay; I'll sleep without them."
"Do you remember what it was about?" John asked, taking the empty glass and placing it on the nightstand.
"The usual."
John got back in bed and hugged him, "sorry."
Carson closed his eyes and leaned into him; there was too much guilt.