justprompts
Normal, normal, normal, normal. John had heard the word so many freaking times. It could have been branded into his forehead from the sheer acridity of the sound dropping from his father's lips, or his teachers' or his professor's... or Elizabeth's. Each in a different context but each screaming to him... that he would never fulfill that prophecy, never live up to that insatiable title.
"It's time you accepted your fate, John. You'll never be normal."
And while it had been said with friendship and care.. John had winced and shook his head.
"Come on now, don't lie. I'm the most normal guy you know."
It hadn't been brought up again.
And here, almost four years later and he was wishing for that moment back; doing something he vowed to himself never to do. He was regretting. God, he missed her sometimes. He knew he wasn't alone, Rodney especially missed her.. maybe even more than he did. And he, beyond everyone else, believed that Elizabeth still existed within that Replicator casing. And maybe.. just maybe, he had given John the faith to believe it too.
John Sheppard wasn't normal, far from it. Maybe he wasn't as good an actor as he had always touted.
What a pity.
And lying here, next to Rodney, sure as hell didn't feel normal. It felt extraordinary and right. And neither of them were normal boyfriends, or even good ones, but they were trying. And that certainly wasn't normal for either of them. And John was grateful for that. Even grateful for Rodney's insistence on waiting for sex until the moment is perfect.
John's not sure there will ever be a perfect moment, but he is sure he'd never want Rodney to feel like cheap sex. Because that's what John is anyway. Really cheap. And the sex is just a given.
If this were a normal situation for John Sheppard, he wouldn't want to stay over. He'd scoff at things like candles, homemade picnics and fire blankets. Now he lived for them.
And maybe John is more normal than he thinks in that... he's human, painfully so. Vulnerably so, especially of late. And normal isn't a synonym for functioning no matter what the Air Force Academy or goddamn Caleb Schwimmer had said to him all those years ago. Twenty some odd and it felt like a few minor eternities.
He felt old. Much more so than normal. If there was ever a time to settle... couldn't it be now? Edging towards forty and in an intergalactic battle for technology and their lives every damn day... and how had he thought this was normal, before?
John was pretty sure he needed Rodney and he was pretty sure that was the least normal thing he could possibly feel.
He just wasn't sure he cared anymore. Not about normalcy or ranks or who could win at chess or Prime/Not Prime. They all had seemed so significant just months ago. Miniscule months filled with miniscule days, yet they felt like several small eternities.
Three Months. Not normal. Three months... one third of his entire marriage and the entire time he had spent in the states with Nancy anyway - the other six he had spent on tour in Afghanistan.
Sometimes he missed the desert, when he wasn't really thinking, and it would scare him. But he wasn't longing for the blood or the loneliness... He wanted that simplicity of sand and sun stretching on forever, no way to go but on. It was a little like space that way, only a lot less beautiful.
John was breaking, he was also pretty sure of that. And he knew there was only one person he'd trust to put him back together. The question remained:
Was Rodney McKay up to the task? Or was he too normal for John's particular brand of crazy?
...or was that a question long-ago answered, and John really was the most normal person here. Merely doubting himself in the face of his biggest fear: the commitment monster.
This innocuous little creature had slept in Nancy's and his bed, it had been there on their wedding day even, especially when he had locked lips with her not-exactly-more-attractive sister.
It wasn't that he just couldn't control himself. Oh no, he knew what he was doing. And perhaps that was more where the normal factor became scrambled; certainly debatable.
John Sheppard had always gone out of his way to sabotage himself.
Was trying enough? Fuck no, not even for normal people. Certainly not for Rodney McKay. A man so arrogant he thought he deserved the world and yet choked up when asking for anything in bed, let alone a blowjob.
But it seemed to be getting John and Rodney by - the normal in John had him waiting for one of them to fuck it up, but since the Carson Beckett incident he hadn't actively sought to fuck things up.
Not yet anyway, his helpful mind supplied. Even Teyla was proud of three whole months. Almost as long as she had kept her illicit Wraith affair from him, but that was something else entirely.
Something normal wouldn't touch with a 39 1/2 foot pole.
But, ironically, it's when John's with Rodney he feels most normal of all. He suspects that's because he doesn't have to hide when he's with him and really, that's something he's felt since day one. He can trace it back to Antarctica even, mean Dr. McKay snapping for John to start poking things.
The ATA gene. Just another reason he couldn't be normal.
"This.. obsession with flying," his father barked. "It's just not normal."
"Johnny's just... following his bliss, dad."
"'Following his bliss'? What kind of bullshit is that, huh? Following his bliss! Bliss wasn't made to be followed. Bliss is for dreams and chocolate, and.. and Christmas!"
John peered around the door on spindly teenaged legs and pretended to be invisible. That was pretty normal, wasn't it?
And those three words tumbling from his lips had to be the least normal behavior of all, out of the last three months. At least for him.. though, in honestly, they had felt normal to say; even to hear as he felt a small smile tug on his lips as he waited for Rodney's response.
He had never said those words to Nancy but once. When Mitch had died. When Nancy was the only person in the world left for him. Not because he loved her, not because she was right; because they were bound by the law and a few poorly sautered chunks of metal.
That's not normal at all, is it? Not that John would have ever claimed that lapse in judgment as average.
But John Sheppard was normal in all the ways that counted, he'd decided. He was secure in his sexuality and gender. He was secure in his occupation and workplace. He was more than secure in social situations, at least... the average ones. And he was a typical solider, maybe a little smart but typical all the same.
Or so he'd claim until the day he died a painfully normal death.
....well, the obituary would read normally, anyhow.
Muse: Colonel John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 1189
"It's time you accepted your fate, John. You'll never be normal."
And while it had been said with friendship and care.. John had winced and shook his head.
"Come on now, don't lie. I'm the most normal guy you know."
It hadn't been brought up again.
And here, almost four years later and he was wishing for that moment back; doing something he vowed to himself never to do. He was regretting. God, he missed her sometimes. He knew he wasn't alone, Rodney especially missed her.. maybe even more than he did. And he, beyond everyone else, believed that Elizabeth still existed within that Replicator casing. And maybe.. just maybe, he had given John the faith to believe it too.
John Sheppard wasn't normal, far from it. Maybe he wasn't as good an actor as he had always touted.
What a pity.
And lying here, next to Rodney, sure as hell didn't feel normal. It felt extraordinary and right. And neither of them were normal boyfriends, or even good ones, but they were trying. And that certainly wasn't normal for either of them. And John was grateful for that. Even grateful for Rodney's insistence on waiting for sex until the moment is perfect.
John's not sure there will ever be a perfect moment, but he is sure he'd never want Rodney to feel like cheap sex. Because that's what John is anyway. Really cheap. And the sex is just a given.
If this were a normal situation for John Sheppard, he wouldn't want to stay over. He'd scoff at things like candles, homemade picnics and fire blankets. Now he lived for them.
And maybe John is more normal than he thinks in that... he's human, painfully so. Vulnerably so, especially of late. And normal isn't a synonym for functioning no matter what the Air Force Academy or goddamn Caleb Schwimmer had said to him all those years ago. Twenty some odd and it felt like a few minor eternities.
He felt old. Much more so than normal. If there was ever a time to settle... couldn't it be now? Edging towards forty and in an intergalactic battle for technology and their lives every damn day... and how had he thought this was normal, before?
John was pretty sure he needed Rodney and he was pretty sure that was the least normal thing he could possibly feel.
He just wasn't sure he cared anymore. Not about normalcy or ranks or who could win at chess or Prime/Not Prime. They all had seemed so significant just months ago. Miniscule months filled with miniscule days, yet they felt like several small eternities.
Three Months. Not normal. Three months... one third of his entire marriage and the entire time he had spent in the states with Nancy anyway - the other six he had spent on tour in Afghanistan.
Sometimes he missed the desert, when he wasn't really thinking, and it would scare him. But he wasn't longing for the blood or the loneliness... He wanted that simplicity of sand and sun stretching on forever, no way to go but on. It was a little like space that way, only a lot less beautiful.
John was breaking, he was also pretty sure of that. And he knew there was only one person he'd trust to put him back together. The question remained:
Was Rodney McKay up to the task? Or was he too normal for John's particular brand of crazy?
...or was that a question long-ago answered, and John really was the most normal person here. Merely doubting himself in the face of his biggest fear: the commitment monster.
This innocuous little creature had slept in Nancy's and his bed, it had been there on their wedding day even, especially when he had locked lips with her not-exactly-more-attractive sister.
It wasn't that he just couldn't control himself. Oh no, he knew what he was doing. And perhaps that was more where the normal factor became scrambled; certainly debatable.
John Sheppard had always gone out of his way to sabotage himself.
Was trying enough? Fuck no, not even for normal people. Certainly not for Rodney McKay. A man so arrogant he thought he deserved the world and yet choked up when asking for anything in bed, let alone a blowjob.
But it seemed to be getting John and Rodney by - the normal in John had him waiting for one of them to fuck it up, but since the Carson Beckett incident he hadn't actively sought to fuck things up.
Not yet anyway, his helpful mind supplied. Even Teyla was proud of three whole months. Almost as long as she had kept her illicit Wraith affair from him, but that was something else entirely.
Something normal wouldn't touch with a 39 1/2 foot pole.
But, ironically, it's when John's with Rodney he feels most normal of all. He suspects that's because he doesn't have to hide when he's with him and really, that's something he's felt since day one. He can trace it back to Antarctica even, mean Dr. McKay snapping for John to start poking things.
The ATA gene. Just another reason he couldn't be normal.
"This.. obsession with flying," his father barked. "It's just not normal."
"Johnny's just... following his bliss, dad."
"'Following his bliss'? What kind of bullshit is that, huh? Following his bliss! Bliss wasn't made to be followed. Bliss is for dreams and chocolate, and.. and Christmas!"
John peered around the door on spindly teenaged legs and pretended to be invisible. That was pretty normal, wasn't it?
And those three words tumbling from his lips had to be the least normal behavior of all, out of the last three months. At least for him.. though, in honestly, they had felt normal to say; even to hear as he felt a small smile tug on his lips as he waited for Rodney's response.
He had never said those words to Nancy but once. When Mitch had died. When Nancy was the only person in the world left for him. Not because he loved her, not because she was right; because they were bound by the law and a few poorly sautered chunks of metal.
That's not normal at all, is it? Not that John would have ever claimed that lapse in judgment as average.
But John Sheppard was normal in all the ways that counted, he'd decided. He was secure in his sexuality and gender. He was secure in his occupation and workplace. He was more than secure in social situations, at least... the average ones. And he was a typical solider, maybe a little smart but typical all the same.
Or so he'd claim until the day he died a painfully normal death.
....well, the obituary would read normally, anyhow.
Muse: Colonel John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 1189