Fic: Crumbling Around Me
Crumbling Around Me
Summary/Prompt: Supernatural/Stargate SG-1/Stargate Atlantis, The Winchesters, Cameron Mitchell, John Sheppard, The world is crumbling around them.
Prompter: camshaft22 on April 13th, 2011 05:22 am (UTC)
Spoilers: Post Season 5 Atlantis, Season 9ish of SG1 and Season 4 of Supernatural
Word Count: 750
John Sheppard didn’t know where he was precisely (GPS had gone the way of the dodo), but it was too far from Atlantis or the SGC. He was probably in northern California, at least, he was pretty sure he was out of Oregon. Something had come and was systematically destroying the earth, but it wasn’t an alien species he with which was familiar. Mitchell, the SG1 leader John had gone surfing with once (it seemed like eons ago when it was really just ten short days), was in a bad way. He had too many broken bones, a bad concussion and they were too far away from Atlantis or the SGC. John dearly wanted to be near a familiar stargate and a way off the hellhole that the Earth had become. He wanted Atlantis and home. The Earth was no longer home and that was before fire rained from the skies and killed all communication towers. John didn’t know any way of contacting Rodney or anyone. He felt far away in spirit as well as distance. He hoped -maybe praying?- that someone high in the SGC food chain wouldn’t decide that John was dead and to let Carson fly Atlantis away from Earth. It had been very dangerous to travel from Oregon to here. John didn’t want to think about trying for Colorado.
John was far from Atlantis and relying on the competence of strangers. The brothers were out gathering supplies from the rubble. John didn’t know what they had done before, but they had been the only two living beings in a town reduce to ruin and corpses where John’s stolen car had breathed its last. John would have new nightmares and a fresh dose of PTSD, but the whole world would be in the shrink’s office with him. The Winchester brothers though, they took it in stride. The devastation didn’t seem to touch them, but that didn’t mean that they were heartless. They didn’t complain about Mitchell being wounded and slowing them down. They didn’t mention that the man was probably not going to survive. In fact, they administered medical attention that -while not with Carson’s delicate touch- made it easier for Mitchell to breath. They were much better field medics than John and they could find better drugs. If Mitchell did survive to Atlantis, it was because of the Winchester brothers. They were better at retrieving useful items such as food or fuel. If Sheppard survived to Atlantis, it would be partly because of the Winchester brothers.
Sometimes, Sheppard wanted to know what Sam and Dean had been before the world crumbled, but then he observed Dean use a gun with the confidence of a Marine and he watched Sam use a machete to hack a man-like creature to death without pause. Sometimes he didn’t want to know. Their past didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they agreed to help Sheppard get Mitchell south and then out to sea to Atlantis. All that mattered was that Sheppard could trust them to keep watch at night. He knew that if something attacked them at night, the Winchesters would defend them to their deaths.
Dean knocked on the door of the little hovel, and the roof of their chosen bunker of this ghost town shook dangerously, dislodged dust rained on John. Dean was waiting for acknowledgement.
“Come,” John said. He waited until Dean proved himself to be Dean before setting down his gun beside him.
Dean stood over the invalid, evaluating his health. “I found a boat. Big enough for four and supplies. It has a working engine and a sail. Sammy’s looking for enough fuel. We might be able to boat to your floating city. It’ll be safer in the water. Hopefully.”
Hope was in small supply in this trashed California city. Only a handful of humans were alive in a hundred square mile radius and half of them would gladly kill the other half. Who knew how dangerous the waters would be, but Dean was correct: they had a better chance surviving the probable sea serpents than the monsters on land.
“I’ll pack up Mitchell.”
Dean nodded. “I’ll catch forty winks. Wake me when Sammy returns.”
Dean was a light sleeper, John doubted that it was possible for the elder brother to sleep through the younger one’s return but John agreed anyway.
John picked up his gun and took his post by the door. Maybe they would all live to tomorrow.
Hope was all that remained.
Summary/Prompt: Supernatural/Stargate SG-1/Stargate Atlantis, The Winchesters, Cameron Mitchell, John Sheppard, The world is crumbling around them.
Prompter: camshaft22 on April 13th, 2011 05:22 am (UTC)
Spoilers: Post Season 5 Atlantis, Season 9ish of SG1 and Season 4 of Supernatural
Word Count: 750
John Sheppard didn’t know where he was precisely (GPS had gone the way of the dodo), but it was too far from Atlantis or the SGC. He was probably in northern California, at least, he was pretty sure he was out of Oregon. Something had come and was systematically destroying the earth, but it wasn’t an alien species he with which was familiar. Mitchell, the SG1 leader John had gone surfing with once (it seemed like eons ago when it was really just ten short days), was in a bad way. He had too many broken bones, a bad concussion and they were too far away from Atlantis or the SGC. John dearly wanted to be near a familiar stargate and a way off the hellhole that the Earth had become. He wanted Atlantis and home. The Earth was no longer home and that was before fire rained from the skies and killed all communication towers. John didn’t know any way of contacting Rodney or anyone. He felt far away in spirit as well as distance. He hoped -maybe praying?- that someone high in the SGC food chain wouldn’t decide that John was dead and to let Carson fly Atlantis away from Earth. It had been very dangerous to travel from Oregon to here. John didn’t want to think about trying for Colorado.
John was far from Atlantis and relying on the competence of strangers. The brothers were out gathering supplies from the rubble. John didn’t know what they had done before, but they had been the only two living beings in a town reduce to ruin and corpses where John’s stolen car had breathed its last. John would have new nightmares and a fresh dose of PTSD, but the whole world would be in the shrink’s office with him. The Winchester brothers though, they took it in stride. The devastation didn’t seem to touch them, but that didn’t mean that they were heartless. They didn’t complain about Mitchell being wounded and slowing them down. They didn’t mention that the man was probably not going to survive. In fact, they administered medical attention that -while not with Carson’s delicate touch- made it easier for Mitchell to breath. They were much better field medics than John and they could find better drugs. If Mitchell did survive to Atlantis, it was because of the Winchester brothers. They were better at retrieving useful items such as food or fuel. If Sheppard survived to Atlantis, it would be partly because of the Winchester brothers.
Sometimes, Sheppard wanted to know what Sam and Dean had been before the world crumbled, but then he observed Dean use a gun with the confidence of a Marine and he watched Sam use a machete to hack a man-like creature to death without pause. Sometimes he didn’t want to know. Their past didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they agreed to help Sheppard get Mitchell south and then out to sea to Atlantis. All that mattered was that Sheppard could trust them to keep watch at night. He knew that if something attacked them at night, the Winchesters would defend them to their deaths.
Dean knocked on the door of the little hovel, and the roof of their chosen bunker of this ghost town shook dangerously, dislodged dust rained on John. Dean was waiting for acknowledgement.
“Come,” John said. He waited until Dean proved himself to be Dean before setting down his gun beside him.
Dean stood over the invalid, evaluating his health. “I found a boat. Big enough for four and supplies. It has a working engine and a sail. Sammy’s looking for enough fuel. We might be able to boat to your floating city. It’ll be safer in the water. Hopefully.”
Hope was in small supply in this trashed California city. Only a handful of humans were alive in a hundred square mile radius and half of them would gladly kill the other half. Who knew how dangerous the waters would be, but Dean was correct: they had a better chance surviving the probable sea serpents than the monsters on land.
“I’ll pack up Mitchell.”
Dean nodded. “I’ll catch forty winks. Wake me when Sammy returns.”
Dean was a light sleeper, John doubted that it was possible for the elder brother to sleep through the younger one’s return but John agreed anyway.
John picked up his gun and took his post by the door. Maybe they would all live to tomorrow.
Hope was all that remained.