14 (12) Valentines 2: Land Mines
Title: Land Mines
Rating: R for violence
Warnings: Mentions & aftermath of graphic violence, torture. May squick.
Summary: The first two days had been dreadful, when it had seemed like the doctors were fighting a losing battle, when Carson hadn't stepped out of the infirmary, in case Rodney… just in case.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
The link I'm asking you to click today: 14 Valentines: Women in the Arts
Notes: Sequel to yesterday's Insect Hole. No bugs this time. ;)
Beta-read by Denis, broet-chan, virulain, and terribilita. Thank you!
~~~
Cover by smuffster
Land Mines
John stared blankly at Rodney, who looked pale and small in his infirmary bed. His body was connected to more machines than any of the team had ever been; John had a hard time looking at him and not thinking of all the surgeries Carson had been forced to do. Like stopping his internal bleeding in several places. Like realigning splintered bones. Taking the flapping skin of his right leg and stitching it back into place. Dental surgery, although Dr. Bieler had been responsible for that one. Disinfecting his fingers where the nails had been pulled out; at least those had partially grown back.
A month had passed since they'd been rescued, and Rodney's body was slowly healing. The first two days had been dreadful, when it had seemed like the doctors were fighting a losing battle, when Carson hadn't stepped out of the infirmary, in case Rodney… just in case.
John picked up Rodney's lax hand and held it, careful to avoid the fingertips. He stroked his thumb over the unmarred skin of Rodney's knuckles, cool and dry and entirely blood-free.
"Come on, buddy," he coaxed softly, "time to wake up, don't you think?"
John knew he would keep having the same nightmares until Rodney finally dragged himself out of his coma. Every night, he remembered in far too vivid detail how that bug-thing had thrown Rodney back into their cell, naked and dying, his body wrecked. They had been captured two days before by creatures that looked like they'd gotten stuck halfway between Iratus bugs and the Wraith; John had been helpless against them.
Sitting on the cell's floor, cradling Rodney's broken body, he'd been honestly surprised that Rodney had woken up at all - surprised and grateful.
"Hey, buddy. How're you feeling?"
"How d'you think 'm feelin'?" Rodney had snapped weakly. "'m dyin'." His speech had been slurred and lisping because of his missing teeth.
"Hang in there," John had said, his voice dripping with false lightness. "I don't want to break in another scientist-"
Rodney had given a short, bitter laugh at that.
"'S too bad. 'M thor'ly broken." He'd sounded resigned and maybe a little hysterical, so John had kissed him, softly, ignoring the taste of blood on his lips as he looked down into Rodney's wide eyes.
"You're not broken," he'd tried to convince them both, "just a little bent."
But Rodney had died that day, had made a little hitching sound and stopped breathing, just like that. Luckily for both of them, the rescue team had arrived then. John didn't think he would have been able to perform CPR on Rodney without losing it.
John sighed, squeezed Rodney's hand cautiously, and put it down again.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he told his friend. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." It was pure coincidence that made him take a final look at Rodney's face, made him meet the unfocussed gaze of half-lidded blue eyes.
"Rodney," he breathed, and then hollered, "Carson!"
Rodney was unconscious again when Carson arrived, but after a brief examination, the doctor seemed satisfied.
"He's going to be drifting in and out of it for a few days, but his vitals are normal. He'll be all right."
John let out a long breath. That was the best thing he'd heard all month.
~~~
Rodney's recuperation was slow and frustrating for all involved. He hated that he couldn't type properly, he hated physical therapy, he hated the long, ugly scar that stretched along and around most of his right leg, but most of all, he seemed to hate John.
"Yes, Colonel, thank you for demonstrating, again I might add, how it's done properly. Now take your mobility and go display it somewhere else," he'd snap, chin raised defiantly.
Rodney's behaviour was enough to leave John bewildered, hurt, and finally angry.
"Just what exactly is your problem, McKay?" he demanded, feeling seriously pissed off. He'd had to watch Rodney die, for god's sake; he didn't deserve this kind of shit. Behind him, Carson shuffled out of the training room, wisely deciding that there was a time for PT and this wasn't it.
Rodney's mouth was a thin, unhappy line. "I don't need your pity."
There seemed to be an underlying message, some private hurt, and in a sudden burst of insight, John finally figured it out. He cursed himself, because really, he should have known.
"Pity? That's what you think it was, pity?" he demanded, slowly advancing on Rodney until his back hit the wall.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rodney said uncomfortably, clearly lying through his new teeth.
"I think you do." With that, John grasped Rodney's face with both hands and leaned down to kiss Rodney, hard, as he pressed himself against him. For a long moment, Rodney tensed and didn't move, but John wouldn't relent. Then with a sigh, Rodney gave in, all at once, pushing back and turning their kiss fierce and desperate.
They were both hard by the time John forced himself to pull away, if only because sex in the training room wasn't very high on his list of kinky things-to-do.
"Not pity," he panted, and Rodney nodded frantically, grabbing John's hand and pulling him to the door.
"Yes, thank you, I kind of got that," Rodney replied, but there was no heat behind his words, just relief and a different kind of urgency.
John grinned manically as he let himself be pushed into Rodney's room and onto the bed, watching as Rodney fumbled with his clothes, already imagining how he'd run his hand along the scar on Rodney's leg, how he'd get to touch everywhere that wasn't broken anymore.
Rodney wasn't broken.
John sighed as Rodney climbed on top of him, deftly working to open his pants and suck his brains out of his dick.
Not broken. Just a little bent.
~~~
End.
Rating: R for violence
Warnings: Mentions & aftermath of graphic violence, torture. May squick.
Summary: The first two days had been dreadful, when it had seemed like the doctors were fighting a losing battle, when Carson hadn't stepped out of the infirmary, in case Rodney… just in case.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
The link I'm asking you to click today: 14 Valentines: Women in the Arts
Notes: Sequel to yesterday's Insect Hole. No bugs this time. ;)
Beta-read by Denis, broet-chan, virulain, and terribilita. Thank you!
~~~
Cover by smuffster
Land Mines
John stared blankly at Rodney, who looked pale and small in his infirmary bed. His body was connected to more machines than any of the team had ever been; John had a hard time looking at him and not thinking of all the surgeries Carson had been forced to do. Like stopping his internal bleeding in several places. Like realigning splintered bones. Taking the flapping skin of his right leg and stitching it back into place. Dental surgery, although Dr. Bieler had been responsible for that one. Disinfecting his fingers where the nails had been pulled out; at least those had partially grown back.
A month had passed since they'd been rescued, and Rodney's body was slowly healing. The first two days had been dreadful, when it had seemed like the doctors were fighting a losing battle, when Carson hadn't stepped out of the infirmary, in case Rodney… just in case.
John picked up Rodney's lax hand and held it, careful to avoid the fingertips. He stroked his thumb over the unmarred skin of Rodney's knuckles, cool and dry and entirely blood-free.
"Come on, buddy," he coaxed softly, "time to wake up, don't you think?"
John knew he would keep having the same nightmares until Rodney finally dragged himself out of his coma. Every night, he remembered in far too vivid detail how that bug-thing had thrown Rodney back into their cell, naked and dying, his body wrecked. They had been captured two days before by creatures that looked like they'd gotten stuck halfway between Iratus bugs and the Wraith; John had been helpless against them.
Sitting on the cell's floor, cradling Rodney's broken body, he'd been honestly surprised that Rodney had woken up at all - surprised and grateful.
"Hey, buddy. How're you feeling?"
"How d'you think 'm feelin'?" Rodney had snapped weakly. "'m dyin'." His speech had been slurred and lisping because of his missing teeth.
"Hang in there," John had said, his voice dripping with false lightness. "I don't want to break in another scientist-"
Rodney had given a short, bitter laugh at that.
"'S too bad. 'M thor'ly broken." He'd sounded resigned and maybe a little hysterical, so John had kissed him, softly, ignoring the taste of blood on his lips as he looked down into Rodney's wide eyes.
"You're not broken," he'd tried to convince them both, "just a little bent."
But Rodney had died that day, had made a little hitching sound and stopped breathing, just like that. Luckily for both of them, the rescue team had arrived then. John didn't think he would have been able to perform CPR on Rodney without losing it.
John sighed, squeezed Rodney's hand cautiously, and put it down again.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he told his friend. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." It was pure coincidence that made him take a final look at Rodney's face, made him meet the unfocussed gaze of half-lidded blue eyes.
"Rodney," he breathed, and then hollered, "Carson!"
Rodney was unconscious again when Carson arrived, but after a brief examination, the doctor seemed satisfied.
"He's going to be drifting in and out of it for a few days, but his vitals are normal. He'll be all right."
John let out a long breath. That was the best thing he'd heard all month.
~~~
Rodney's recuperation was slow and frustrating for all involved. He hated that he couldn't type properly, he hated physical therapy, he hated the long, ugly scar that stretched along and around most of his right leg, but most of all, he seemed to hate John.
"Yes, Colonel, thank you for demonstrating, again I might add, how it's done properly. Now take your mobility and go display it somewhere else," he'd snap, chin raised defiantly.
Rodney's behaviour was enough to leave John bewildered, hurt, and finally angry.
"Just what exactly is your problem, McKay?" he demanded, feeling seriously pissed off. He'd had to watch Rodney die, for god's sake; he didn't deserve this kind of shit. Behind him, Carson shuffled out of the training room, wisely deciding that there was a time for PT and this wasn't it.
Rodney's mouth was a thin, unhappy line. "I don't need your pity."
There seemed to be an underlying message, some private hurt, and in a sudden burst of insight, John finally figured it out. He cursed himself, because really, he should have known.
"Pity? That's what you think it was, pity?" he demanded, slowly advancing on Rodney until his back hit the wall.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rodney said uncomfortably, clearly lying through his new teeth.
"I think you do." With that, John grasped Rodney's face with both hands and leaned down to kiss Rodney, hard, as he pressed himself against him. For a long moment, Rodney tensed and didn't move, but John wouldn't relent. Then with a sigh, Rodney gave in, all at once, pushing back and turning their kiss fierce and desperate.
They were both hard by the time John forced himself to pull away, if only because sex in the training room wasn't very high on his list of kinky things-to-do.
"Not pity," he panted, and Rodney nodded frantically, grabbing John's hand and pulling him to the door.
"Yes, thank you, I kind of got that," Rodney replied, but there was no heat behind his words, just relief and a different kind of urgency.
John grinned manically as he let himself be pushed into Rodney's room and onto the bed, watching as Rodney fumbled with his clothes, already imagining how he'd run his hand along the scar on Rodney's leg, how he'd get to touch everywhere that wasn't broken anymore.
Rodney wasn't broken.
John sighed as Rodney climbed on top of him, deftly working to open his pants and suck his brains out of his dick.
Not broken. Just a little bent.
~~~
End.