Fic: Of Reapers & Souls, 1/?.
. standard info .
Disclaimer: In no way are the characters my creations nor am I making money from them. (Though being a poor college student, I wish I could.)
Title: Of Reapers & Souls
Rating: PG
Pairing: Past Rodney/John, Current Rodney/Carson
Summary: “I don’t know what to do, but I don’t like this. I’m not happy with this and I know you aren’t.”
. notes .
This story was not meant to be written first. ORS was, in my original outlines, meant to come after I'd written the Trinity Reaper Remix or the TRR, but as all writers can attest: when the muses start talking, you start typing. So if you have questions about what the hell is going on, comment or email me.
I plan on posting a part once a week so I can edit and re-write each part to my heart's content.
. without further ado .
Carson had decided by day three of John’s most recent stay in the infirmary that the Colonel was the worst patient to ever cross his path.
“But...”
“No! You cannot go gallivanting around the city and there is no way I’m letting you go back to quarters. I know you - you’ll fool some poor soul into helping you escape.”
“Escape what?” John flung his arms out to the side; his cast nearly took out the IV pole and Carson had to back away as the call button flew off the bed.
Carson rolled his eyes. John bloody well knew exactly what he meant when he said “escape.” There wasn’t a single stay in the infirmary when the man didn’t try to get away long before he should have. It was like wrangling a Tasmanian devil.
And of course, by nightfall, John was doing just as Carson had expected. One of the newer lieutenants had been helping the Colonel into a wheelchair from the bed, clearly trying to stay clear of his commanding officer’s arm and leg.
“What part of ‘you are confined to the infirmary’ did you miss?”
“Look...”
The lieutenant wisely took off then - he was a man who knew to never mess with the CMO, especially since they could pull you from active duty without ever needing to talk to a CO or XO.
“You need to keep off that leg or you could cause irreparable damage. Do you want to be ‘flying a desk’ or whatever it is you Americans say? If you can’t run or walk properly, they’ll send you home and I highly doubt you want that!”
Carson had pulled out the big guns. Threatening to return him to Earth was only a last resort and he hated saying it. He felt like he was blackmailing John into good behavior.
John merely pouted. He wasn’t cowed in the slightest and Carson knew the minute his back was turned, John would try something else.
“Fine,” Carson spat. He moved forward, startling John, who had pushed himself back until he realized Carson wasn’t going to hit him. Instead, Carson was getting him properly situated in the wheelchair.
With his leg supported and his arm in a sling, John suddenly realized that despite finally being able to leave the infirmary -- after pissing off Carson, which he would so pay for later -- he wasn’t going to be able to propel himself forward. His right side was still sore, his arm throbbed, and his pain meds were wearing off.
“Am I allowed to phone a friend?”
Carson rolled his eyes. “Stay there.”
Biro merely smirked when Carson walked over and waved him off without so much as a word. She watched as he tossed his lab coat into his office and stalked back to John, looking very much put upon.
John didn’t realize where they were going until they were half way to Carson’s quarters. He immediately started complaining, but one stern look from Carson stopped him; once safely inside the doctor’s room, he could go on.
But he didn’t.
Rodney was lying on the couch, sleeping and shivering. His laptop was perched precariously on his knees, a physics journal on one side and a powerbar in his left hand.
John still felt bad for the things that had happened. He missed Rodney and he wanted him back in his bed, his heart. Still - there were some things that John couldn’t deal with.
For fuck’s sake, Rodney was a reaper. He took people’s souls out of their bodies when they died. It was wrong to be having sex with Death, damn it.
“Just talk to him. He needs you, even if you don’t think that’s true. He’s still human, John. He still feels.”
Carson disappeared out of the main room, slipping into his bedroom, closing door behind him, though John knew he would likely come flying out if he or Rodney did anything stupid.
“Hey. McKay...”
Rodney snorted awake. He blinked a few times and looked at John, eyes widening. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean... I was going to come down and see how you were in the morning. The botanists nearly killed us all last night and I haven’t had the time to...”
“Rodney! Calm down.”
John reached out; a reflex from their relationship - he had been able to calm Rodney with the touch of hand.
“Sorry.”
“So... How have you been?”
Rodney rubbed his scalp. “You really want to start with that?”
Shaking his head, John prepared himself to ask the question that had been bugging him for so long. He tightened his undamaged hand, wiggled in the chair, and licked his lips.
“Would you tell me when it was my time?”
“I wouldn’t be the one with your post-it. I wouldn’t even know who had yours. Elizabeth’s already promised me that.”
John nodded. He wasn’t really sure what to say to that because he was grateful and sad. While it would have been nice to know when his time had come, he was glad that Rodney wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure how he could ever deal with Rodney knowing that information.
They sat in the silence for a few seconds; it was awkward and strange and John remembered a time when they could be together for hours comfortably without ever saying a word. The tension was wrong for them, just plain wrong.
“I don’t know what to do, John.”
“Me either,” John admitted. He could see the admission was hard for Rodney to hear, but he needed to say it because he really didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle everything and that threw him off kilter.
Rodney nodded dully.
“I don’t know what to do, but I don’t like this. I’m not happy with this and I know you aren’t,” John went on. “I’m willing to try.”
“Try what?” Rodney asked.
“Being friends again.”
“Just friends?”
“For now, yes.”
Rodney looked down at his computer, sighing, and pushed it onto the coffee table. He couldn’t look at John; he wanted John back as his partner, though he knew he didn’t want to give up Carson at the same time.
John knew what Rodney was thinking, like old times, and he offered, “We’ll take everything as it comes.”
Disclaimer: In no way are the characters my creations nor am I making money from them. (Though being a poor college student, I wish I could.)
Title: Of Reapers & Souls
Rating: PG
Pairing: Past Rodney/John, Current Rodney/Carson
Summary: “I don’t know what to do, but I don’t like this. I’m not happy with this and I know you aren’t.”
. notes .
This story was not meant to be written first. ORS was, in my original outlines, meant to come after I'd written the Trinity Reaper Remix or the TRR, but as all writers can attest: when the muses start talking, you start typing. So if you have questions about what the hell is going on, comment or email me.
I plan on posting a part once a week so I can edit and re-write each part to my heart's content.
. without further ado .
Carson had decided by day three of John’s most recent stay in the infirmary that the Colonel was the worst patient to ever cross his path.
“But...”
“No! You cannot go gallivanting around the city and there is no way I’m letting you go back to quarters. I know you - you’ll fool some poor soul into helping you escape.”
“Escape what?” John flung his arms out to the side; his cast nearly took out the IV pole and Carson had to back away as the call button flew off the bed.
Carson rolled his eyes. John bloody well knew exactly what he meant when he said “escape.” There wasn’t a single stay in the infirmary when the man didn’t try to get away long before he should have. It was like wrangling a Tasmanian devil.
And of course, by nightfall, John was doing just as Carson had expected. One of the newer lieutenants had been helping the Colonel into a wheelchair from the bed, clearly trying to stay clear of his commanding officer’s arm and leg.
“What part of ‘you are confined to the infirmary’ did you miss?”
“Look...”
The lieutenant wisely took off then - he was a man who knew to never mess with the CMO, especially since they could pull you from active duty without ever needing to talk to a CO or XO.
“You need to keep off that leg or you could cause irreparable damage. Do you want to be ‘flying a desk’ or whatever it is you Americans say? If you can’t run or walk properly, they’ll send you home and I highly doubt you want that!”
Carson had pulled out the big guns. Threatening to return him to Earth was only a last resort and he hated saying it. He felt like he was blackmailing John into good behavior.
John merely pouted. He wasn’t cowed in the slightest and Carson knew the minute his back was turned, John would try something else.
“Fine,” Carson spat. He moved forward, startling John, who had pushed himself back until he realized Carson wasn’t going to hit him. Instead, Carson was getting him properly situated in the wheelchair.
With his leg supported and his arm in a sling, John suddenly realized that despite finally being able to leave the infirmary -- after pissing off Carson, which he would so pay for later -- he wasn’t going to be able to propel himself forward. His right side was still sore, his arm throbbed, and his pain meds were wearing off.
“Am I allowed to phone a friend?”
Carson rolled his eyes. “Stay there.”
Biro merely smirked when Carson walked over and waved him off without so much as a word. She watched as he tossed his lab coat into his office and stalked back to John, looking very much put upon.
John didn’t realize where they were going until they were half way to Carson’s quarters. He immediately started complaining, but one stern look from Carson stopped him; once safely inside the doctor’s room, he could go on.
But he didn’t.
Rodney was lying on the couch, sleeping and shivering. His laptop was perched precariously on his knees, a physics journal on one side and a powerbar in his left hand.
John still felt bad for the things that had happened. He missed Rodney and he wanted him back in his bed, his heart. Still - there were some things that John couldn’t deal with.
For fuck’s sake, Rodney was a reaper. He took people’s souls out of their bodies when they died. It was wrong to be having sex with Death, damn it.
“Just talk to him. He needs you, even if you don’t think that’s true. He’s still human, John. He still feels.”
Carson disappeared out of the main room, slipping into his bedroom, closing door behind him, though John knew he would likely come flying out if he or Rodney did anything stupid.
“Hey. McKay...”
Rodney snorted awake. He blinked a few times and looked at John, eyes widening. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean... I was going to come down and see how you were in the morning. The botanists nearly killed us all last night and I haven’t had the time to...”
“Rodney! Calm down.”
John reached out; a reflex from their relationship - he had been able to calm Rodney with the touch of hand.
“Sorry.”
“So... How have you been?”
Rodney rubbed his scalp. “You really want to start with that?”
Shaking his head, John prepared himself to ask the question that had been bugging him for so long. He tightened his undamaged hand, wiggled in the chair, and licked his lips.
“Would you tell me when it was my time?”
“I wouldn’t be the one with your post-it. I wouldn’t even know who had yours. Elizabeth’s already promised me that.”
John nodded. He wasn’t really sure what to say to that because he was grateful and sad. While it would have been nice to know when his time had come, he was glad that Rodney wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure how he could ever deal with Rodney knowing that information.
They sat in the silence for a few seconds; it was awkward and strange and John remembered a time when they could be together for hours comfortably without ever saying a word. The tension was wrong for them, just plain wrong.
“I don’t know what to do, John.”
“Me either,” John admitted. He could see the admission was hard for Rodney to hear, but he needed to say it because he really didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle everything and that threw him off kilter.
Rodney nodded dully.
“I don’t know what to do, but I don’t like this. I’m not happy with this and I know you aren’t,” John went on. “I’m willing to try.”
“Try what?” Rodney asked.
“Being friends again.”
“Just friends?”
“For now, yes.”
Rodney looked down at his computer, sighing, and pushed it onto the coffee table. He couldn’t look at John; he wanted John back as his partner, though he knew he didn’t want to give up Carson at the same time.
John knew what Rodney was thinking, like old times, and he offered, “We’ll take everything as it comes.”