SGA fic: "She watches and wait", Gen, PG
Did a little something for stargateland, where we had to write fic for Halloween (creepy of otherwise). I don't know what it's worth, but it's words and I need to get back in the groove (especially since I pledged 1000 words a day for November for mini_nanowrimo!!!!)
Title: she watches and waits
Characters: John, Atlantis, mentions of Rodney
Word count/rating: 650 words, PG
Summary: maybe the Ancients left for a reason
The first time John steps into Atlantis, he experiences a full body shiver and breaks into goosebumps all over. There is so much to take in with the city awakening around the expedition that John chalks it up to nerves and the thrill of discovery. It's the mythic city of the Ancients, in another galaxy: of course it's bound to be nerve wracking. Not long after that there is the energy crisis, the Wraith, and being suddenly in command so John falls into survival mode and can't spare stray thoughts for feelings and impressions.
Maybe he should have.
***
When he's on Atlantis, John feels a faint tingling at the base of his skull: the city is there, ready to connect, trying to push incorporate tendrils into his nervous system. The sensation brings on one hand the sense of being in a place where he belongs - at last - but the constant nudges creep John out. He feels watched, observed, almost dissected and it becomes habit to spot the cameras when he enters a room, beady black eyes always trained on him. He asks Rodney to disconnect the ones in the living quarters in the name of privacy, but some days he thinks he can see them moving still in his peripheral vision.
***
The black energy-sucking cloud is not exactly a surprise: for days John had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. The city is old, there are a lot of deserted labs that used to host shady experiments and that one containment field held a ghost-like entity barely makes John bat an eyelash. Heck, they are in a galaxy with Goth space vampires, who knows what else lurks in the shadows. Rodney gets rid of it, thank god, but it's a given that this sort of thing is bound to happen again. Funny how John didn't used to be a pessimist before moving to Pegasus.
***
Each year brings its lot of shady incidents, from viruses to echos of past Ancients, a crystal entity in his image killing his friends in their sleep and other aliens who play games with their nerves. But always, under it all, is the constant hum of Atlantis, waiting, waiting, waiting...
***
Overall the puddlejumpers give a friendly vibe - for lack of a proper descriptive - but John knows that every time he sits in Atlantis' control chair is a risk. Once it reclines and lights up, the feelings become almost clear voices that whisper that they'll do whatever he wants if he stays, just a little more. Flying Atlantis or firing the drones are thrills like no other, but John tries to avoid it as much as possible. Carson has been weary of it all, even of the chair in Antarctica, right from the start: probably from a stronger sense of self-preservation than John ever possessed. When Rodney almost ascends and spend hours in the chair, looking blissful, John is worried he might get lost in the gut of the city and never come back.
***
Some nights John sits up in his bed, heart hammering, and he could swear that what woke him were ghost fingers trailing on his skin, in his hair, ice-cold and possessive.
He never tells anyone, afraid to be labeled paranoiac and sent away, but more and more John's convinced that the Ancients left Atlantis to never come back for a very good reason. On bad days, he's tempted to go, too. But even with the dread that coils in John's gut when something weird happens, Atlantis is still home, where his family lives, so he'll suck it up and deal.
Atlantis flicks the lights in the room and purposely looks the door, a warning, and John swears out loud he'll never go if she doesn't hurt anyone, that he loves her best.
He hopes it's enough.
Title: she watches and waits
Characters: John, Atlantis, mentions of Rodney
Word count/rating: 650 words, PG
Summary: maybe the Ancients left for a reason
The first time John steps into Atlantis, he experiences a full body shiver and breaks into goosebumps all over. There is so much to take in with the city awakening around the expedition that John chalks it up to nerves and the thrill of discovery. It's the mythic city of the Ancients, in another galaxy: of course it's bound to be nerve wracking. Not long after that there is the energy crisis, the Wraith, and being suddenly in command so John falls into survival mode and can't spare stray thoughts for feelings and impressions.
Maybe he should have.
***
When he's on Atlantis, John feels a faint tingling at the base of his skull: the city is there, ready to connect, trying to push incorporate tendrils into his nervous system. The sensation brings on one hand the sense of being in a place where he belongs - at last - but the constant nudges creep John out. He feels watched, observed, almost dissected and it becomes habit to spot the cameras when he enters a room, beady black eyes always trained on him. He asks Rodney to disconnect the ones in the living quarters in the name of privacy, but some days he thinks he can see them moving still in his peripheral vision.
***
The black energy-sucking cloud is not exactly a surprise: for days John had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. The city is old, there are a lot of deserted labs that used to host shady experiments and that one containment field held a ghost-like entity barely makes John bat an eyelash. Heck, they are in a galaxy with Goth space vampires, who knows what else lurks in the shadows. Rodney gets rid of it, thank god, but it's a given that this sort of thing is bound to happen again. Funny how John didn't used to be a pessimist before moving to Pegasus.
***
Each year brings its lot of shady incidents, from viruses to echos of past Ancients, a crystal entity in his image killing his friends in their sleep and other aliens who play games with their nerves. But always, under it all, is the constant hum of Atlantis, waiting, waiting, waiting...
***
Overall the puddlejumpers give a friendly vibe - for lack of a proper descriptive - but John knows that every time he sits in Atlantis' control chair is a risk. Once it reclines and lights up, the feelings become almost clear voices that whisper that they'll do whatever he wants if he stays, just a little more. Flying Atlantis or firing the drones are thrills like no other, but John tries to avoid it as much as possible. Carson has been weary of it all, even of the chair in Antarctica, right from the start: probably from a stronger sense of self-preservation than John ever possessed. When Rodney almost ascends and spend hours in the chair, looking blissful, John is worried he might get lost in the gut of the city and never come back.
***
Some nights John sits up in his bed, heart hammering, and he could swear that what woke him were ghost fingers trailing on his skin, in his hair, ice-cold and possessive.
He never tells anyone, afraid to be labeled paranoiac and sent away, but more and more John's convinced that the Ancients left Atlantis to never come back for a very good reason. On bad days, he's tempted to go, too. But even with the dread that coils in John's gut when something weird happens, Atlantis is still home, where his family lives, so he'll suck it up and deal.
Atlantis flicks the lights in the room and purposely looks the door, a warning, and John swears out loud he'll never go if she doesn't hurt anyone, that he loves her best.
He hopes it's enough.