Faster Than Light [Amnesty/Bloody challenge]
Title: Faster Than Light
Author: kodiak_bear
Rating: T
Pairing: Rodney/John -First time
Warnings: deathfic...but not
So, my first time participating, though I've wanted to jump in for months now. *waves* at everyone. Have thoroughly enjoyed lurking and reading!
Edited to add: It occured to me that as this is a coda to a drabble fic, even though it didn't fit in the flashfic's categories, maybe I should post the link to it. Anyway, here's the drabble that led to this coda. untitled dying fic
Faster Than Light
Dear Jeannie,
I’m sorry to have to tell you this in a letter, but you know how the military can be
Sheppard stared at his pen, paused in mid-script, when he realized that no, Jeannie McKay probably didn’t know how the military could be, because it hadn’t been her working in conjunction with the military all these years.
Angrily, he flung the pen against the desk, and crumpled the sheet of paper, before tossing it in the corner to join the numerous others that hadn’t been good enough either, for one reason or another.
And it wasn’t the uncontrolled sobs causing his shoulder’s to shake, as he folded his arms around himself, reflexively trying to hold on to something -
“You broke it!” accused Rodney.
“I didn’t!” John shoved the little piece back in the top piece and casually set the Ancient device on the counter. “It was supposed to do that.”
“Get out,” Rodney swore, pushing him towards the door. “I can do without your supergene for the afternoon.”
The quiet private sobs twisted and died into fragments, because of the grin evoked by the memory that bubbled to the surface, like so many often did lately. How do you keep back years of adventures? Years of teasing, and poking, and then again, years with death always dogging your steps, and danger lurking behind what seemed at almost every door?
“Don’t leave me.”
And it always came back to that. No matter how many times he visited the same moment in time, it always ended the same -
John pushed the bandage against the wound, even as he knew it wouldn’t be enough. “I can’t move with you covering my legs like a beached Ronon,” he poked, but the joke fell flat, because Rodney’s body stiffened as he fought against another wave of pain.
Rodney sniffed, and his breath hitched as he tried to get more oxygen to his lungs. “This is really it, isn’t it?”
The blue eyes were watery, and even while they begged Sheppard to deny the obvious, they demanded the truth.
“Yeah,” and John’s voice cracked, as he pulled McKay’s broken body in closer towards his own. “It is.”
Those blue unfocused eyes, that stared past him, up towards something that only Rodney could see. “It was heroic, right? Because you know how I feel about that.”
Spasms shook McKay’s body as he coughed against the fluid filling his lungs.
John moved his free hand from Rodney’s shoulder to pat his head, and back to his shoulder, not knowing what to do to make it better. “It was damn heroic, McKay. Superman would be proud.”
“John,” now the voice was a mere husk of what it had been before.
“What?”
“Tell Radek he’s still second best, and Carson -” Rodney’s hand suddenly flailed about, and John knew that the eyes had gone sightless.
“I’m still here, Rodney,” he urged, even as he felt like his own heart was being shredded.
Rodney swallowed down the blood that was leaking out the corner of his mouth, and down his chin. “Tell Carson, not…not his fault.”
“John?”
Angrily, Sheppard pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to scrub away the evidence of his weakness. “What?” he called, not trusting himself yet to turn around and face Elizabeth.
“I’m sorry - I - you didn’t answer when I knocked and I -”
He drew in another shaky breath, and straightened. Turning, he faced her, and noticed his eyes weren’t the only ones reddened. “The memorial, I know - wouldn’t do to be late for Rodney’s funeral,” he said, intentionally trying to lighten the mood.
Of course it was completely ruined by his mental addition that since he’d been there for Rodney’s fucking death, he ought to be excused from the ceremony, anyway.
She nodded, and her bottom lip quivered, and Sheppard begged her to go without actually saying anything, because it was all he could do to manage his own grief.
“He died saving you, John - you’ve got to quit blaming yourself.”
“I don’t blame myself,” he denied hotly. It hadn’t been grief then, at least, not all for Rodney. No one would leave him alone. Didn’t they see it wasn’t him that needed help? It was McKay -
“Colonel, either you turn over your weapons, or we start killing hostages.”
“So long, Colonel -”
A second, and a gunshot, and John tore off his radio, screaming “McKay!”
The time to get to the room seemed to take forever, and to not take long enough, and there Sheppard found the hostages, now holding the captors at the business end of various weapons, and Rodney, slumped against the wall, a shaky hand pressed against his abdomen. Already paling from the shock of the trauma, he’d grinned weakly. “Didn’t go like I’d planned it to,” he remarked as if he’d miscalculated an equation instead of his life. “That hasn’t happened in a while - you’re making me senile.”
Rushing to his side, John tried to stem the flow, before realizing it was like patching a hole in a leaky boat. It just wasn’t enough, and he’d left his radio -
“Carson wants you stop by after the service. He’s got something for you.”
John tried to convince himself it wasn’t white, with straps, and accompanied by a key to a nice padded room where no one would make him care again.
“Go away, Elizabeth,” he ordered.
“It was bound to happen soon,” declared Rodney. He winced as John pushed even more forcefully against the pressure bandage. “I know you’re good at math. You’ve done the odds.”
“Shut up, McKay, you’re not dying today.”
“I’m the hypochondriac, so let me decide when I’m going to die,” argued McKay, even as he winced again from another fresh round of pain, and more red blood gushed through the gauze, staining the last white remnant irreversibly.
And Rodney had. Just like that. Telling him not to blame Carson, but not telling John to stop blaming himself.
If he squinted, he could still see dried flecks of blood in his cuticles. All the scrubbing in the world failed to get it off, and now John wasn’t even sure it was Rodney’s. Maybe it was his own, because he scrubbed so hard -
Staring again at the pile of crumpled rejects, he sighed. He’d keep trying till he got it right. It was the least he could do, but now he had a memorial to go to.
John only half listened to what was said, preferring instead to remain lost in his own memories of Rodney.
“How could anyone be so completely unaware as to miss the obvious?” Rodney accused. “As if you didn’t know I was mooning over you for the better part of the last six months?”
“I really didn’t,” insisted John. “In case you didn’t notice, my attention span consists of objects that tend to move faster than the speed of light.”
“I can move faster than the speed of light,” huffed McKay.
John had raised an eyebrow and asked, “How?”
“Watch me.”
But whatever Rodney had been going to do, he didn’t know, because shortly after that conversation the building they’d been in had been attacked by a terrorist faction of the Arganians.
“Colonel?”
John realized the service was over, and everyone was filing out, heading to the reception room for the wake. “Elizabeth says you have something for me,” he said warily.
Beckett’s eyes crinkled affectionately, and he pulled an envelope from his suit pocket. Carson had been a pall bearer, and later tonight, Hermiod would beam up the casket before shooting it into the atmosphere.
Faster than light, McKay.
“Rodney asked me to give you this,” Carson said, his voice thickening. “If you need anything -”
“I probably won’t let you know.” John took the innocuous envelope, holding it gingerly, and met Beckett’s concerned gaze. “Thanks,” he offered. It was all he could give.
Beckett paused, before nodding, and moving away.
So, you’re reading this, which means I’m dead. I’ll preface by saying that this is entirely unexpected, but as I’ve already been faced with my own mortality, I’ve come to accept that even as intelligent as I am, the possibilities are endless. You can’t prepare for every eventuality.
Regardless, I know you, and I’m sure that if I died on a mission, and you were there, you’ve been completely blaming yourself and acting like some omniscient god. You’re not, so get over it. If I didn’t get to say it then, I’ll do it now. It’s not your fault, and even if it was (which I’m sure it wasn’t), I still won’t hold it against you.
I do have one favor to ask. That letter to Jeannie that I made you promise to write before the wraith tried to pulverize the city, and we all did our best impressions of insomniacs on speed? Forget it. I don’t even know her that well anymore, and any heroics you could make up, she probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.
She always thought I was a cry-baby that would vanish in some dusty laboratory, never to be seen or heard from again. I think she probably preferred it, actually, so let’s not disappoint her, shall we?
That’s a good Colonel - or, well, I hope they haven’t promoted you again, because I know how utterly hopeless I am with updating anything, and sorry, but this is it, so if you’re a General now or something, you’ll just have to deal with it.
So, this is it then. Since I just kicked you out of my lab moments ago, it’s not like I miss you or anything. In fact, you completely pissed me off by breaking that device that I’m convinced is important, and I’m not sure how to fix it, but seeing how I guess it was part of that time traveling jumper, I really want to -
And it ended without anything else. No goodbye, so long, loved you from afar.
Without a word, John jumped up, and ran for Rodney’s lab, not even stopping long enough to answer Ronon’s shouts. The device was there where Rodney had left it. The piece John had insisted was supposed to come off, rested to the side.
He picked them both up, and studied the pieces, before closing his eyes, and saying a prayer, he thrust the one sharply into the same joint it had resisted going in earlier.
This time it melted seamlessly into the blocky larger piece, and John felt an intense wave of vertigo.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
John’s eyes shot open, and he felt the device fall from his numb fingers. He took a step back, stumbled, and looked down at the shattered parts.
“Great, for all we know, you just broke the only time traveling device left in Atlantis,” snapped McKay, moving to pick up the broken pieces.
And if Sheppard suddenly seized McKay, and entwined his fingers behind Rodney’s neck, pulling him forward, and kissing him deeply, who was to say that McKay hadn’t really traveled faster than the speed of light?
The End
Author: kodiak_bear
Rating: T
Pairing: Rodney/John -First time
Warnings: deathfic...but not
So, my first time participating, though I've wanted to jump in for months now. *waves* at everyone. Have thoroughly enjoyed lurking and reading!
Edited to add: It occured to me that as this is a coda to a drabble fic, even though it didn't fit in the flashfic's categories, maybe I should post the link to it. Anyway, here's the drabble that led to this coda. untitled dying fic
Faster Than Light
Dear Jeannie,
I’m sorry to have to tell you this in a letter, but you know how the military can be
Sheppard stared at his pen, paused in mid-script, when he realized that no, Jeannie McKay probably didn’t know how the military could be, because it hadn’t been her working in conjunction with the military all these years.
Angrily, he flung the pen against the desk, and crumpled the sheet of paper, before tossing it in the corner to join the numerous others that hadn’t been good enough either, for one reason or another.
And it wasn’t the uncontrolled sobs causing his shoulder’s to shake, as he folded his arms around himself, reflexively trying to hold on to something -
“You broke it!” accused Rodney.
“I didn’t!” John shoved the little piece back in the top piece and casually set the Ancient device on the counter. “It was supposed to do that.”
“Get out,” Rodney swore, pushing him towards the door. “I can do without your supergene for the afternoon.”
The quiet private sobs twisted and died into fragments, because of the grin evoked by the memory that bubbled to the surface, like so many often did lately. How do you keep back years of adventures? Years of teasing, and poking, and then again, years with death always dogging your steps, and danger lurking behind what seemed at almost every door?
“Don’t leave me.”
And it always came back to that. No matter how many times he visited the same moment in time, it always ended the same -
John pushed the bandage against the wound, even as he knew it wouldn’t be enough. “I can’t move with you covering my legs like a beached Ronon,” he poked, but the joke fell flat, because Rodney’s body stiffened as he fought against another wave of pain.
Rodney sniffed, and his breath hitched as he tried to get more oxygen to his lungs. “This is really it, isn’t it?”
The blue eyes were watery, and even while they begged Sheppard to deny the obvious, they demanded the truth.
“Yeah,” and John’s voice cracked, as he pulled McKay’s broken body in closer towards his own. “It is.”
Those blue unfocused eyes, that stared past him, up towards something that only Rodney could see. “It was heroic, right? Because you know how I feel about that.”
Spasms shook McKay’s body as he coughed against the fluid filling his lungs.
John moved his free hand from Rodney’s shoulder to pat his head, and back to his shoulder, not knowing what to do to make it better. “It was damn heroic, McKay. Superman would be proud.”
“John,” now the voice was a mere husk of what it had been before.
“What?”
“Tell Radek he’s still second best, and Carson -” Rodney’s hand suddenly flailed about, and John knew that the eyes had gone sightless.
“I’m still here, Rodney,” he urged, even as he felt like his own heart was being shredded.
Rodney swallowed down the blood that was leaking out the corner of his mouth, and down his chin. “Tell Carson, not…not his fault.”
“John?”
Angrily, Sheppard pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to scrub away the evidence of his weakness. “What?” he called, not trusting himself yet to turn around and face Elizabeth.
“I’m sorry - I - you didn’t answer when I knocked and I -”
He drew in another shaky breath, and straightened. Turning, he faced her, and noticed his eyes weren’t the only ones reddened. “The memorial, I know - wouldn’t do to be late for Rodney’s funeral,” he said, intentionally trying to lighten the mood.
Of course it was completely ruined by his mental addition that since he’d been there for Rodney’s fucking death, he ought to be excused from the ceremony, anyway.
She nodded, and her bottom lip quivered, and Sheppard begged her to go without actually saying anything, because it was all he could do to manage his own grief.
“He died saving you, John - you’ve got to quit blaming yourself.”
“I don’t blame myself,” he denied hotly. It hadn’t been grief then, at least, not all for Rodney. No one would leave him alone. Didn’t they see it wasn’t him that needed help? It was McKay -
“Colonel, either you turn over your weapons, or we start killing hostages.”
“So long, Colonel -”
A second, and a gunshot, and John tore off his radio, screaming “McKay!”
The time to get to the room seemed to take forever, and to not take long enough, and there Sheppard found the hostages, now holding the captors at the business end of various weapons, and Rodney, slumped against the wall, a shaky hand pressed against his abdomen. Already paling from the shock of the trauma, he’d grinned weakly. “Didn’t go like I’d planned it to,” he remarked as if he’d miscalculated an equation instead of his life. “That hasn’t happened in a while - you’re making me senile.”
Rushing to his side, John tried to stem the flow, before realizing it was like patching a hole in a leaky boat. It just wasn’t enough, and he’d left his radio -
“Carson wants you stop by after the service. He’s got something for you.”
John tried to convince himself it wasn’t white, with straps, and accompanied by a key to a nice padded room where no one would make him care again.
“Go away, Elizabeth,” he ordered.
“It was bound to happen soon,” declared Rodney. He winced as John pushed even more forcefully against the pressure bandage. “I know you’re good at math. You’ve done the odds.”
“Shut up, McKay, you’re not dying today.”
“I’m the hypochondriac, so let me decide when I’m going to die,” argued McKay, even as he winced again from another fresh round of pain, and more red blood gushed through the gauze, staining the last white remnant irreversibly.
And Rodney had. Just like that. Telling him not to blame Carson, but not telling John to stop blaming himself.
If he squinted, he could still see dried flecks of blood in his cuticles. All the scrubbing in the world failed to get it off, and now John wasn’t even sure it was Rodney’s. Maybe it was his own, because he scrubbed so hard -
Staring again at the pile of crumpled rejects, he sighed. He’d keep trying till he got it right. It was the least he could do, but now he had a memorial to go to.
John only half listened to what was said, preferring instead to remain lost in his own memories of Rodney.
“How could anyone be so completely unaware as to miss the obvious?” Rodney accused. “As if you didn’t know I was mooning over you for the better part of the last six months?”
“I really didn’t,” insisted John. “In case you didn’t notice, my attention span consists of objects that tend to move faster than the speed of light.”
“I can move faster than the speed of light,” huffed McKay.
John had raised an eyebrow and asked, “How?”
“Watch me.”
But whatever Rodney had been going to do, he didn’t know, because shortly after that conversation the building they’d been in had been attacked by a terrorist faction of the Arganians.
“Colonel?”
John realized the service was over, and everyone was filing out, heading to the reception room for the wake. “Elizabeth says you have something for me,” he said warily.
Beckett’s eyes crinkled affectionately, and he pulled an envelope from his suit pocket. Carson had been a pall bearer, and later tonight, Hermiod would beam up the casket before shooting it into the atmosphere.
Faster than light, McKay.
“Rodney asked me to give you this,” Carson said, his voice thickening. “If you need anything -”
“I probably won’t let you know.” John took the innocuous envelope, holding it gingerly, and met Beckett’s concerned gaze. “Thanks,” he offered. It was all he could give.
Beckett paused, before nodding, and moving away.
So, you’re reading this, which means I’m dead. I’ll preface by saying that this is entirely unexpected, but as I’ve already been faced with my own mortality, I’ve come to accept that even as intelligent as I am, the possibilities are endless. You can’t prepare for every eventuality.
Regardless, I know you, and I’m sure that if I died on a mission, and you were there, you’ve been completely blaming yourself and acting like some omniscient god. You’re not, so get over it. If I didn’t get to say it then, I’ll do it now. It’s not your fault, and even if it was (which I’m sure it wasn’t), I still won’t hold it against you.
I do have one favor to ask. That letter to Jeannie that I made you promise to write before the wraith tried to pulverize the city, and we all did our best impressions of insomniacs on speed? Forget it. I don’t even know her that well anymore, and any heroics you could make up, she probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.
She always thought I was a cry-baby that would vanish in some dusty laboratory, never to be seen or heard from again. I think she probably preferred it, actually, so let’s not disappoint her, shall we?
That’s a good Colonel - or, well, I hope they haven’t promoted you again, because I know how utterly hopeless I am with updating anything, and sorry, but this is it, so if you’re a General now or something, you’ll just have to deal with it.
So, this is it then. Since I just kicked you out of my lab moments ago, it’s not like I miss you or anything. In fact, you completely pissed me off by breaking that device that I’m convinced is important, and I’m not sure how to fix it, but seeing how I guess it was part of that time traveling jumper, I really want to -
And it ended without anything else. No goodbye, so long, loved you from afar.
Without a word, John jumped up, and ran for Rodney’s lab, not even stopping long enough to answer Ronon’s shouts. The device was there where Rodney had left it. The piece John had insisted was supposed to come off, rested to the side.
He picked them both up, and studied the pieces, before closing his eyes, and saying a prayer, he thrust the one sharply into the same joint it had resisted going in earlier.
This time it melted seamlessly into the blocky larger piece, and John felt an intense wave of vertigo.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
John’s eyes shot open, and he felt the device fall from his numb fingers. He took a step back, stumbled, and looked down at the shattered parts.
“Great, for all we know, you just broke the only time traveling device left in Atlantis,” snapped McKay, moving to pick up the broken pieces.
And if Sheppard suddenly seized McKay, and entwined his fingers behind Rodney’s neck, pulling him forward, and kissing him deeply, who was to say that McKay hadn’t really traveled faster than the speed of light?
The End