Fic: Need Rated G
Okay, so here's the story: I had the ambition and the drive to build a giant snowman with Cassie the other day, but not the strength. It is very hard to get one giant snowball on top of another with just the help of a 5 year old. Needless to say... I may have thrown my back slightly out of whack. I tell you this simply because I wrote this story as I was lying on the couch in a crazy amount of pain. (i have since gone to the doc and got pain meds, so I cannot promise that future challenge stories will be completely understandable) So, be warned that this fic was written when I was in a pretty bad mood...
Title: Need
Prompt: 024 - Need (day 24 of 30 days of Sheppard whump)
Warnings: Mouthy Sheppard! (if I say more it may spoil)
Spoilers: slight one for The Shrine
Word count: 933
Summary: He was cold and he’d been sweating so long that his scrubs were sticking to his skin. His wrists and ankles were chaffed and bleeding from where he’d fought against the binds for so long. His body ached, his head was screaming at him and his eyes stung in the bright light of the room.
Disclaimer: Sadly, neither Stargate Atlantis nor her characters belong to me. If they did, the show would never have been nor would it ever be cancelled. We may have to move it to Cinemax though.
“Carson!” John shouted at the ceiling.
He was cold and he’d been sweating so long that his scrubs were sticking to his skin. His wrists and ankles were chaffed and bleeding from where he’d fought against the binds for so long. His body ached, his head was screaming at him and his eyes stung in the bright light of the room.
“Carson…” John said again, his voice was still loud but it had cracked a little, he was getting weak. “Help me…” he whispered.
John looked up at the window at the top of the wall.
“Rodney,” he spoke calmly, “Rodney come down here buddy. I need your help. These straps, they’re hurting me, they’re making me bleed. Help me Rodney; just loosen them a little so it doesn’t hurt so much. Please buddy, come on.”
John looked up at his friend, and Rodney slowly turned and walked away. “RODNEY!” he shouted, “I helped you! You were a bumbling idiot and did I turn away? No! Help me you ungrateful bastard!”
John lay flat on the bed, the thin mattress making the pain he was already feeling seem ten times worse. He could feel every bar in the frame, every spring in the mattress. He slowly rocked his head from side to side, he could feel his heart racing, his hair and the pillow were soaked with sweat, his eyes were burning from it. Rodney was back at the window. “Rodney,” John moaned still rocking his head, “Rodney…Rodney…Rodney. Help me Rodney, just a little. I didn’t mean to yell at you and call you a bastard. You’re my friend Rodney, please… please help me.”
John was shivering, his muscles were tight and every movement sent ice chips running through his veins. He’d lost track of time, it felt like he’d been in that room for weeks. People had come and gone in the window, Rodney was there more often than not. Woolsey had stood in the window looking down and basking in John’s misery. Teyla had been there too, John had always thought she was his friend, but apparently she had been pretending all these years just to work her way into the city. She and Woolsey were probably plotting to throw him into the deepest part of the ocean. Ronon had stood there a few times and John realized all those trips he’d had to make to this infirmary after sparring with Ronon hadn’t been accidents. They were trying to get rid of him. He proved too strong, too good a soldier to kill the old fashioned way; they had to resort to locking him in a room that was probably slowly filling with poisonous gas. That was why no one had gone in to see him; no one had come into the room to tell him that everything was okay, because it wasn’t okay, not for him anyway. “That’s okay,” John said, his voice just barely above a whisper, “I’ll get out of here, and when I do… you’ll all be sorry.”
Someone was holding John’s shoulder. They were pushing him to the side and he was puking his guts into a silver can. His head hurt, his eyes felt like they were going to pop right out of his head if he didn’t stop heaving.
His eyes closed and he stopped trying to throw up the lining of his stomach. Whoever had him had eased him back onto his back and he felt a cool damp cloth dabbing at his forehead. He wished he could open his eyes.
“Rodney…” he slurred.
“I’m here John,” Rodney’s soft voice replied.
“Don’t leave Rodney. Don’t leave me alone.”
“ I’m not going anywhere, you just rest.”
John opened his eyes but gravity was too strong and they were pulled back closed. He fought them open again, but they slipped shut again immediately. He fought a losing battle with his sight for several long minutes before reaching up and rubbing at his eyes.
The unrestricted mobility of his arms had won the war for him and his eyes flew open and looked at his hands. He had thick white bandages around his wrists and the skin just above and below the bandages was a deep purple.
“You’re awake.”
John turned his head a little too quickly and his head swam. He put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes.
“Don’t move too quickly.”
John slowly opened his eyes and saw Carson looking at him. His face was awash with concern and relief.
“What happened?” John whispered.
“What do you remember?” Carson asked.
“I remember going off world with the team.”
“You were captured colonel. They drugged you, it took us a month to find you and all that time they had been drugging you.”
John lifted his arm again, something there had caught his eye before but his mind hadn’t registered it, he was too busy looking at the bandages and the bruising. He had a line of track marks from his wrist to the crease of his elbow, some were half healed and some were almost completely healed and there were a few that looked damn near fresh.
“You went through withdrawal, it was bad. You were completely paranoid and aggressive. You were convinced that we were trying to kill you.”
“I remember some of it… Rodney…”
“He knows you didn’t mean it, son.”
John felt his eyelids start fighting him again and he didn’t have the strength to fight back.
“You rest colonel, you’ll be alright.”
John tried to nod but he was already slipping into the darkness of unconsciousness.
The End
Title: Need
Prompt: 024 - Need (day 24 of 30 days of Sheppard whump)
Warnings: Mouthy Sheppard! (if I say more it may spoil)
Spoilers: slight one for The Shrine
Word count: 933
Summary: He was cold and he’d been sweating so long that his scrubs were sticking to his skin. His wrists and ankles were chaffed and bleeding from where he’d fought against the binds for so long. His body ached, his head was screaming at him and his eyes stung in the bright light of the room.
Disclaimer: Sadly, neither Stargate Atlantis nor her characters belong to me. If they did, the show would never have been nor would it ever be cancelled. We may have to move it to Cinemax though.
“Carson!” John shouted at the ceiling.
He was cold and he’d been sweating so long that his scrubs were sticking to his skin. His wrists and ankles were chaffed and bleeding from where he’d fought against the binds for so long. His body ached, his head was screaming at him and his eyes stung in the bright light of the room.
“Carson…” John said again, his voice was still loud but it had cracked a little, he was getting weak. “Help me…” he whispered.
John looked up at the window at the top of the wall.
“Rodney,” he spoke calmly, “Rodney come down here buddy. I need your help. These straps, they’re hurting me, they’re making me bleed. Help me Rodney; just loosen them a little so it doesn’t hurt so much. Please buddy, come on.”
John looked up at his friend, and Rodney slowly turned and walked away. “RODNEY!” he shouted, “I helped you! You were a bumbling idiot and did I turn away? No! Help me you ungrateful bastard!”
John lay flat on the bed, the thin mattress making the pain he was already feeling seem ten times worse. He could feel every bar in the frame, every spring in the mattress. He slowly rocked his head from side to side, he could feel his heart racing, his hair and the pillow were soaked with sweat, his eyes were burning from it. Rodney was back at the window. “Rodney,” John moaned still rocking his head, “Rodney…Rodney…Rodney. Help me Rodney, just a little. I didn’t mean to yell at you and call you a bastard. You’re my friend Rodney, please… please help me.”
John was shivering, his muscles were tight and every movement sent ice chips running through his veins. He’d lost track of time, it felt like he’d been in that room for weeks. People had come and gone in the window, Rodney was there more often than not. Woolsey had stood in the window looking down and basking in John’s misery. Teyla had been there too, John had always thought she was his friend, but apparently she had been pretending all these years just to work her way into the city. She and Woolsey were probably plotting to throw him into the deepest part of the ocean. Ronon had stood there a few times and John realized all those trips he’d had to make to this infirmary after sparring with Ronon hadn’t been accidents. They were trying to get rid of him. He proved too strong, too good a soldier to kill the old fashioned way; they had to resort to locking him in a room that was probably slowly filling with poisonous gas. That was why no one had gone in to see him; no one had come into the room to tell him that everything was okay, because it wasn’t okay, not for him anyway. “That’s okay,” John said, his voice just barely above a whisper, “I’ll get out of here, and when I do… you’ll all be sorry.”
Someone was holding John’s shoulder. They were pushing him to the side and he was puking his guts into a silver can. His head hurt, his eyes felt like they were going to pop right out of his head if he didn’t stop heaving.
His eyes closed and he stopped trying to throw up the lining of his stomach. Whoever had him had eased him back onto his back and he felt a cool damp cloth dabbing at his forehead. He wished he could open his eyes.
“Rodney…” he slurred.
“I’m here John,” Rodney’s soft voice replied.
“Don’t leave Rodney. Don’t leave me alone.”
“ I’m not going anywhere, you just rest.”
John opened his eyes but gravity was too strong and they were pulled back closed. He fought them open again, but they slipped shut again immediately. He fought a losing battle with his sight for several long minutes before reaching up and rubbing at his eyes.
The unrestricted mobility of his arms had won the war for him and his eyes flew open and looked at his hands. He had thick white bandages around his wrists and the skin just above and below the bandages was a deep purple.
“You’re awake.”
John turned his head a little too quickly and his head swam. He put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes.
“Don’t move too quickly.”
John slowly opened his eyes and saw Carson looking at him. His face was awash with concern and relief.
“What happened?” John whispered.
“What do you remember?” Carson asked.
“I remember going off world with the team.”
“You were captured colonel. They drugged you, it took us a month to find you and all that time they had been drugging you.”
John lifted his arm again, something there had caught his eye before but his mind hadn’t registered it, he was too busy looking at the bandages and the bruising. He had a line of track marks from his wrist to the crease of his elbow, some were half healed and some were almost completely healed and there were a few that looked damn near fresh.
“You went through withdrawal, it was bad. You were completely paranoid and aggressive. You were convinced that we were trying to kill you.”
“I remember some of it… Rodney…”
“He knows you didn’t mean it, son.”
John felt his eyelids start fighting him again and he didn’t have the strength to fight back.
“You rest colonel, you’ll be alright.”
John tried to nod but he was already slipping into the darkness of unconsciousness.
The End