Bioluminescent, by Malograntum Vitiorum (First Night Challenge)
Title: Bioluminescent
Summary: Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises.
Notes: Takes place after "Rising," obviously, but also draws on "Before I Sleep." Many thanks to doorrepairgirl for the beta.
Rodney was vaguely aware that it was a dream. His father was there, watching him quietly from the corner of the lab, which was the chem lab from his high school. People in black-and-teal uniforms moved around him unnaturally quickly, as if in a recording playing at double speed, speaking in a language he didn't understand. He was knee-deep in water, but he didn't feel cold.
He knew it was a dream because even when his father had been alive, he'd never known the man to stay quiet for this long.
There was a complex equation on his computer screen, which he was solving by hand, marking the screen with a pencil. The variables kept changing, and it was hard to keep up with them, but he was managing, just barely. The water was up to his waist now. He looked up and met his father's eyes. His father was smiling, the skin around his eyes crinkling, wrinkles disappearing into just-graying hair.
His computer keyboard was underwater now, but it had turned into a piano keyboard, and in order for the lab to stay operational, he had to play furiously, hurrying to keep pace with the sheet music disappearing across his screen. When he looked up again, he was the only one there.
The water covered him, gentle and implacable, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then he woke up.
Where the hell was he? The room was unfamiliar, the bed comfortable but inhospitable, like a fancy hotel bed--
Right. Atlantis. Distant galaxy. Still actually happening.
He sat up and looked at his watch. Its time had no correlation with the rotation of this planet, of course, but it told him he'd slept for less than four hours.
There were no windows, and only a dim sort of night-light in the room; he didn't know if it was day or night. He didn't remember how to turn on the lights. He was bone-tired and his eyes hurt, but he didn't think he could get back to sleep if he wanted to.
He stood up unsteadily. The dream lingered, leaving a strange heavy feeling in his chest and rendering everything surreal. He spent several seconds looking for Laika before remembering that he'd left her with a cat-sitter back on his home planet. A pang of loneliness gripped him by the collar and shook, hard.
He picked up his laptop, sat back down on the bed, and started making a few initial notes on the mission so far. Ten pages in, he fell asleep.
He dreamed of water again, but this time he was a fish himself, bioluminescent on the ocean floor, always swimming just out of reach of a hungry, curious cat.
-end-
Summary: Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises.
Notes: Takes place after "Rising," obviously, but also draws on "Before I Sleep." Many thanks to doorrepairgirl for the beta.
Rodney was vaguely aware that it was a dream. His father was there, watching him quietly from the corner of the lab, which was the chem lab from his high school. People in black-and-teal uniforms moved around him unnaturally quickly, as if in a recording playing at double speed, speaking in a language he didn't understand. He was knee-deep in water, but he didn't feel cold.
He knew it was a dream because even when his father had been alive, he'd never known the man to stay quiet for this long.
There was a complex equation on his computer screen, which he was solving by hand, marking the screen with a pencil. The variables kept changing, and it was hard to keep up with them, but he was managing, just barely. The water was up to his waist now. He looked up and met his father's eyes. His father was smiling, the skin around his eyes crinkling, wrinkles disappearing into just-graying hair.
His computer keyboard was underwater now, but it had turned into a piano keyboard, and in order for the lab to stay operational, he had to play furiously, hurrying to keep pace with the sheet music disappearing across his screen. When he looked up again, he was the only one there.
The water covered him, gentle and implacable, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then he woke up.
Where the hell was he? The room was unfamiliar, the bed comfortable but inhospitable, like a fancy hotel bed--
Right. Atlantis. Distant galaxy. Still actually happening.
He sat up and looked at his watch. Its time had no correlation with the rotation of this planet, of course, but it told him he'd slept for less than four hours.
There were no windows, and only a dim sort of night-light in the room; he didn't know if it was day or night. He didn't remember how to turn on the lights. He was bone-tired and his eyes hurt, but he didn't think he could get back to sleep if he wanted to.
He stood up unsteadily. The dream lingered, leaving a strange heavy feeling in his chest and rendering everything surreal. He spent several seconds looking for Laika before remembering that he'd left her with a cat-sitter back on his home planet. A pang of loneliness gripped him by the collar and shook, hard.
He picked up his laptop, sat back down on the bed, and started making a few initial notes on the mission so far. Ten pages in, he fell asleep.
He dreamed of water again, but this time he was a fish himself, bioluminescent on the ocean floor, always swimming just out of reach of a hungry, curious cat.
-end-