tuesday: angst
Hello once again, I am still beckonade and today's theme is angst. What's better than making your favorite characters suffer? Few things, in my opinion, so let's amp up the woe with some super-angsty prompts.
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row ( Read more... )
Just a few rules:No more than five prompts in a row ( Read more... )
No. No shift. Elizabeth had put the entire team on stand down. Where was John? Not the bathroom. Not the balcony outside Rodney's quarters. His clothes were gone. His lightsaber was gone.
Dammit. Rodney scrambled into his clothes, scooped up his radio. "McKay for Control, I need a twenty on John Sheppard."
"Roger that, McKay. Sheppard is in the sparring halls with Teyla."
Rodney toed on his shoes - he was missing a sock but really didn't have time to fuss about that - and headed out the door. "Thanks." If John was sparring with Teyla, that must have meant his memory was coming back, that he'd realigned himself with the gate translation system on the city.
He'd probably gone running; Jedi were apparently soldier enough that John was incapable of sleeping in.
John hadn't left a note, but he was still learning to write in English, and the gate's translation system didn't include written language, so that he hadn't left one didn't mean anything.
Last night had been incredible, had been amazing. Rodney had known there was something between them, something beyond mere physical attraction. The way John protected Rodney, deferred to him at times, seemed to stretch beyond the prophecy John's previous master had given him. John played chess with Rodney, and brought him coffee even if he hated the stuff himself, and he always made sure to save an extra share of dessert for Rodney at supper.
The way John had recognized Rodney despite the way he was supposed to be a blank slate, the fire in his eyes and the urgency of his kisses told Rodney all he needed to know: John loved him back.
When he got to the training hall, he saw John and Teyla sparring, Teyla with her bantos rods, John with a wooden sword. Both of them moved with breathtaking speed and grace. John was slender and wiry but strong. More than one Marine had tried to get the better of him, and they prevailed against him in terms of brute strength, but John was quick, John was smart, John was -
Yelping as Teyla sent his sword flying.
"You are not concentrating," she said. "Or perhaps you are concentrating too much - on something else."
John curled his hurt hand into a fist, bowed slightly at the waist.
"Apologies, your grace."
Rodney cleared his throat. "John."
He turned, as if just noticing Rodney, and Rodney frowned, because John always knew where he was, through The Force or some inner compass he had that always pointed to Rodney. John had always been tuned to Rodney, even before Beckett's ATA gene therapy worked.
"Master," he said.
Rodney realized that Teyla wasn't alone, that she had an audience of Marines, and they were all staring at him, because he never came to the sparring halls, not to watch and certainly not to train.
"Can we talk?"
"Apologies, Master, but Lady Teyla and I are training."
Rodney frowned. John always answered his beck and call, even if with an eye roll and blatant insolence. This polite, restrained refusal was -
Oh. John had his memory back. Remembered that he and Rodney hadn't been lovers before his forced Ascension. Or maybe he remembered their friendship but not being lovers?
If he'd forgotten, Rodney would just have to teach him again. Neither of them belonged to the military, and if O'Neill's comments the day before were any indication, he'd look the other way to what was happening on his team so long as it didn't have a negative effect.
"Please, it's important." Rodney tried to sound pleading but was pretty sure he'd come off snappish, if the way the Marines winced was any indication.
"If you insist."
"I do."
"Then excuse me, Lady Teyla. Maybe next time I'll be more focused." John bowed politely, went to put up his sword, and then followed Rodney out of the sparring hall.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the Marines, Rodney cast about for a place to have a private conversation.
"Look, about last night -"
"I'm sorry about last night," John said.
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"I was not - myself. My memories were -"
"Everyone's memories get scrambled when they ascend. It's fine," Rodney said. "And I think you were your true self, your purest self, without memory to misguide you."
"Jedi are forbidden to -" John gestured between them.
"Forbidden from having sex? Are Jedi monks?" Rodney rolled his eyes. Of all the backward notions for such a technologically superior culture to have.
"We are forbidden attachments and possessions, save our lightsabers," John said.
"Attachments?" Rodney echoed, a lump rising in his throat.
"Romance. Marriage. Family." John looked pale, uncomfortable.
"But you and I -"
"I had no memory. If I'd remembered, I wouldn't have -"
Rodney swallowed hard. "So it was a mistake."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you."
"You mean with me." Rodney's head spun. "What kind of a rule is that, anyway? No - what, no love?"
"Jedi are supposed to have compassion for all."
Rodney threw his hands up. "You're the last Jedi in the universe! Who's going to stop you from falling in love or starting a family? Not that you and I could start a family, not the conventional way, but -"
"I have to discipline myself," John said flatly. His gaze was flat, expressionless, but he fairly radiated misery.
Misery that Rodney was fast sharing. Misery that was unnecessary.
"So just like that, after one night, we're done before we even got started."
John looked away.
Rodney huffed. "Fine. Whatever. I don't want to see you right."
John straightened up, bowed. "Yes, Master." And he walked away.
Those two words sounded an awful lot like goodbye.
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Poor Rodney. And poor John, who is once again denying himself something he wants.
ANGST! ALL THE ANGST!
Thanks for the fill! I know you'll fix this...eventually. ::grins:: You just like to make me wait.
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Given the theme, I figured I'd have to bring a lot of angst.
But I will fix it. Quicker than I usually do, I promise. :)
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