Corridor in the Light of a Wraith Stunner
Title: Corridor in the light of a Wraith Stunner
Pairing: Michael/Sheppard
Requested By: elven_wolf
Request: The original request was for "Gareth David-Loyd and John Barrowman of Torchwood fame RPS.". But seeing as I'm not familiar with Torchwood *just* yet, the second request was for Michael/Sheppard.
“I have no problem with killing you.”
“And I have no problem with dying.”
“You have a problem with me pointing a gun at you?” Sheppard adjusted the grip on his stunner, his palms were sweating slightly, and his thumb on his left hand was about to cramp up. He could feel it.
“No.”
“You had a problem when we first met, didn’t you?” John egged Michael on, needing the man, no, Wraith to crack just that little bit more, lose his temper, strike out so John could have an excuse to stun him.
“You tricked me!” Michael snapped, raising his stunner slightly, aiming between John’s eyes.
“And then you took off on us.”
“After what you did to me? You did not even give me a choice!”
“You’d prefer to be Wraith?”
“I am NOT Wraith anymore! I am not welcome among my kind…the same way I am unwelcome amongst your people.”
“You can come back,” The sudden sarcasm John was dealing out became a guilt on his shoulders. He had no right to behave like this to Michael.
“And then what?” Michael snapped, head tilting sharply as he studied Sheppard through slit eyes, “Be an experiment? Have my memory wiped? Again?”
“You could live a normal life,” John insisted.
“And what good would that be if this memory was erased?”
“At least you’d be safe!” It didn’t matter, as long as Michael was safe, away from the Wraith, away from the Wraith killers who were hunting him, even now.
“I am safe here, until you and your kind showed up. I was safe back with my Hive before all this sorry mess started.” Michael’s gun wavered, lowered so it was no longer pointed between the pilot’s eyes.
“You belong with us,” with me John’s mind added.
“You would freely let me wander the city, like this?” Michael gestured to his face with one hand, making John’s concentration waver for a moment as he looked away from Michael’s eyes.
“No…”
“You would change me,” Michael’s dejected voice pulled at something in John’s chest.
“We’d have to,” John didn’t want Michael to change. Didn’t want the memory of hot sleepless, sweaty nights to be erased.
“Do you want to? Do you want to change me, Sheppard?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want any more,” Images of strong hands caressing his thighs, hips, stomach, arms.
“It does,” Michael held out his hand, offering a gesture, a peace between the two, the other hand holding the gun steady, aimed at John’s shoulder, eyes searching, “If you want me to come with you, you need to ensure that I am not given the retrovirus again.”
“We cannot do that,” Sheppard smirked, covering the hurt he felt at what he had to do. “Do you really want people staring at you? Mistrusting your every move, every blink, every breath, believing you are plotting our downfall?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.”
He wouldn’t do that, not to you, Sheppard’s thoughts reminded him. “But look at what you’re doing now.”
“I’m doing this because it is what I have to do to survive,” Michael let his hand move back to his stunner and readjusted his grip.
“Come back with me.” It was a simple request, something he longed for, that his body ached for, to feel the familiar weight against his skin as he had before Michael had found out about the retrovirus.
“I cannot,” Michael shook his head slightly, breaking eye contact from the colonel.
“Michael…” It was a simple word, a name John had given him, given the newly formed human as he lay screaming on the gurney. A name filled with meaning in that one single sound.
“I cannot, John.”
“Please…” John nearly begged, unwilling to let Michael slip through his fingers again.
“Goodbye John…” Michael moved his stunner slightly, shooting once, the orange flash enveloping John in a careful hold to the floor before turning.
Michael walked away, seemingly oblivious to John’s eyes trained on his retreating figure.
Pairing: Michael/Sheppard
Requested By: elven_wolf
Request: The original request was for "Gareth David-Loyd and John Barrowman of Torchwood fame RPS.". But seeing as I'm not familiar with Torchwood *just* yet, the second request was for Michael/Sheppard.
“I have no problem with killing you.”
“And I have no problem with dying.”
“You have a problem with me pointing a gun at you?” Sheppard adjusted the grip on his stunner, his palms were sweating slightly, and his thumb on his left hand was about to cramp up. He could feel it.
“No.”
“You had a problem when we first met, didn’t you?” John egged Michael on, needing the man, no, Wraith to crack just that little bit more, lose his temper, strike out so John could have an excuse to stun him.
“You tricked me!” Michael snapped, raising his stunner slightly, aiming between John’s eyes.
“And then you took off on us.”
“After what you did to me? You did not even give me a choice!”
“You’d prefer to be Wraith?”
“I am NOT Wraith anymore! I am not welcome among my kind…the same way I am unwelcome amongst your people.”
“You can come back,” The sudden sarcasm John was dealing out became a guilt on his shoulders. He had no right to behave like this to Michael.
“And then what?” Michael snapped, head tilting sharply as he studied Sheppard through slit eyes, “Be an experiment? Have my memory wiped? Again?”
“You could live a normal life,” John insisted.
“And what good would that be if this memory was erased?”
“At least you’d be safe!” It didn’t matter, as long as Michael was safe, away from the Wraith, away from the Wraith killers who were hunting him, even now.
“I am safe here, until you and your kind showed up. I was safe back with my Hive before all this sorry mess started.” Michael’s gun wavered, lowered so it was no longer pointed between the pilot’s eyes.
“You belong with us,” with me John’s mind added.
“You would freely let me wander the city, like this?” Michael gestured to his face with one hand, making John’s concentration waver for a moment as he looked away from Michael’s eyes.
“No…”
“You would change me,” Michael’s dejected voice pulled at something in John’s chest.
“We’d have to,” John didn’t want Michael to change. Didn’t want the memory of hot sleepless, sweaty nights to be erased.
“Do you want to? Do you want to change me, Sheppard?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want any more,” Images of strong hands caressing his thighs, hips, stomach, arms.
“It does,” Michael held out his hand, offering a gesture, a peace between the two, the other hand holding the gun steady, aimed at John’s shoulder, eyes searching, “If you want me to come with you, you need to ensure that I am not given the retrovirus again.”
“We cannot do that,” Sheppard smirked, covering the hurt he felt at what he had to do. “Do you really want people staring at you? Mistrusting your every move, every blink, every breath, believing you are plotting our downfall?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.”
He wouldn’t do that, not to you, Sheppard’s thoughts reminded him. “But look at what you’re doing now.”
“I’m doing this because it is what I have to do to survive,” Michael let his hand move back to his stunner and readjusted his grip.
“Come back with me.” It was a simple request, something he longed for, that his body ached for, to feel the familiar weight against his skin as he had before Michael had found out about the retrovirus.
“I cannot,” Michael shook his head slightly, breaking eye contact from the colonel.
“Michael…” It was a simple word, a name John had given him, given the newly formed human as he lay screaming on the gurney. A name filled with meaning in that one single sound.
“I cannot, John.”
“Please…” John nearly begged, unwilling to let Michael slip through his fingers again.
“Goodbye John…” Michael moved his stunner slightly, shooting once, the orange flash enveloping John in a careful hold to the floor before turning.
Michael walked away, seemingly oblivious to John’s eyes trained on his retreating figure.