Roads Taken by ariadne83 (backstory challenge, amnesty 2007)
Title: Roads Taken
Author:
ariadne83
Rating: adult
Spoilers: Minor one for Sunday
Word count: 1100
Notes: This is a plot bunny that bit me when I was writing an angsty Mcshep break-up fic that I never had the heart to finish. I'm posting it now in honour of the backstory challenge at SGA flashfic (hooray for amnesty!) Feedback/con crit always appreciated ( I can take it and I so want to get better)
Roads Taken
They had been stuck in the cave for just forty minutes when Rodney had an epiphany: he'd been blindly relying on John Sheppard to keep him alive for two years and he knew nothing about the man. How would Rodney ever talk Sheppard out of shooting him when the man finally snapped? Because, honestly, with the way he bottle things up he was a psychotic episode waiting to happen. The more he thought about it the more he started to panic, until finally Rodney sputtered out, “Ever been married?”
Taken by surprise, John answered automatically. “Once.”
“Really? Someone actually wanted to marry you?”
“Stranger things have happened. How bout you? Ever think about settling down?” John was hoping against hope that Rodney had some good stories to tell, anything that might deflect his attention back onto himself.
“No offence, Colonel, but I fail to see the point of shackling yourself to one person when both of you know that eventually you’ll just end up bored and irritated.”
John snorted. “Wouldn’t have picked you for such a romantic, Rodney.”
“Yes, well, one of the constants of the universe is that people suck and the more time they’re forced to share space the worse it gets. Take you, for example. I’m betting that in pretty short order you two found you didn’t have much in common besides a piece of paper.”
John was half-disappointed that the death glare he was currently training on Rodney was wasted in the dark. “That’s not what happened,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“Right, because obviously you lived happily ever after.”
“She died.” John spat out, not so much in the interests of sharing but to stop Rodney’s babbling.
“Oh,” Rodney whispered, his face flaming. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m going to shut up now.” He lasted a masterful five minutes before he asked, “How did you meet?”
“Rodney, did it ever occur to you that the reason I don’t talk about it is because I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Well, I can’t think of anything else and if we just sit here I’ll start thinking about how the walls really aren’t that high, so there’s probably not a lot of oxygen and we have no idea when they’ll be able to get through and we don’t have our packs so we have to survive on whatever we’ve got in our pockets and…”
“OK, OK. I get it. More talk equals less panic.”
“I’m not panicking; I’m just assessing the situation.”
John rolled his eyes; somehow, even though he knew Rodney couldn’t see him, making the gesture helped. “I was stateside, between tours. An old buddy asked me to do a guest lecture and she was one of his grad students. She was about to start her MS when she got pregnant.”
“A grad student?”
“I was twenty-five!” John said defensively.
“Right, right, sorry. Shutting up now.”
John started tracing lines in the dirt; rhythmical patterns, schematics he could draw out with his eyes closed (which was just as well, given the circumstances) - anything to keep him in the here-and-now and not the then-and-crappy. “So she dropped out and we had this cliché registry office thing and her parents just went mental, told her she was throwing her life away. After that, all we had was each other.”
“I can't believe all this time I never knew you had a kid.” Rodney pondered for a moment and then his eyes widened. “Oh my god! You’re actually talking about yourself. You think we’re going to die, don’t you? Oh my god?”
“Rodney, if you hyperventilate you’ll just use up more oxygen.”
“Great, thanks Colonel, that’s so soothing.”
John sighed; there was nothing for it now but to try and distract Rodney again. “So,” he said loudly, continuing his story, “she moved on-base and I went on tour and then she starts sending me these letters.” He was picking at his boot-laces now, his voice stripped of all emotion. “All she did was complain, you know? About the isolation, the loneliness, the way the other wives looked at her. What was I supposed to do? I was half a world away, so I…” John took a deep breath. “I stopped opening them.”
For years John had wondered what it would feel like to admit this to someone, to see their reaction - and it was oddly fitting that he only found the guts to do it when he couldn’t see. Thing was, after all the other mistakes he’d made, the way he’d screwed up his career, he’d thought that maybe it wouldn’t matter; maybe he couldn’t sink any lower. John Sheppard was surprised to find, however, that he did care what people thought of him; he actually had something to lose.
“I couldn’t deal with it, not on top of everything I was seeing out there; I wanted to believe that there was something good waiting for me back home, so I just… pretended.” Rodney still wasn’t saying anything and from experience, John knew that couldn’t be good, but now that he’d gotten warmed up he found that he couldn’t stop talking.
“She lost the baby at five months and I never even knew. I was in Bosnia when she died. Her parents made all the arrangements without me. Had her cremated before I even got back. To them, I was just some loser jock who’d knocked up their daughter.”
Finally Rodney broke his stunned silence. “Wow, they must have moved fast.” He winced, knowing it was a stupid, inane thing to say but John was taking up all the deep-and-meaningful for both of them (and hey, he’d never have thought that would happen). In the end, it was the inanity that broke John.
“They told me it was an accident, that she just fell asleep at the wheel but I knew. It was my fault. I should’ve done something. She gave up everything for me and I screwed her over.” John's breath was ragged, his heart beating so fast it felt like it was pounding against his ribs
Silence dragged out between them for several uncomfortable minutes and then Rodney cleared his throat. "Well. Look, Colonel, uh. I'm not going to pretend that I'm good at... well, warm fuzzies but if there's one thing I've become painfully aware of it's that everyone fucks up at some point and you either let it control the rest of your life or you... don't," he finished lamely.
John let his head fall back against the wall of the cave. "Yeah."
"So," Rodney said, clapping his hands together. "Did I ever tell you about Siberia?" He filled the space between them with rapid, continuous chatter until, gradually, John felt the knot in his chest loosen.
Author:
ariadne83
Rating: adult
Spoilers: Minor one for Sunday
Word count: 1100
Notes: This is a plot bunny that bit me when I was writing an angsty Mcshep break-up fic that I never had the heart to finish. I'm posting it now in honour of the backstory challenge at SGA flashfic (hooray for amnesty!) Feedback/con crit always appreciated ( I can take it and I so want to get better)
Roads Taken
They had been stuck in the cave for just forty minutes when Rodney had an epiphany: he'd been blindly relying on John Sheppard to keep him alive for two years and he knew nothing about the man. How would Rodney ever talk Sheppard out of shooting him when the man finally snapped? Because, honestly, with the way he bottle things up he was a psychotic episode waiting to happen. The more he thought about it the more he started to panic, until finally Rodney sputtered out, “Ever been married?”
Taken by surprise, John answered automatically. “Once.”
“Really? Someone actually wanted to marry you?”
“Stranger things have happened. How bout you? Ever think about settling down?” John was hoping against hope that Rodney had some good stories to tell, anything that might deflect his attention back onto himself.
“No offence, Colonel, but I fail to see the point of shackling yourself to one person when both of you know that eventually you’ll just end up bored and irritated.”
John snorted. “Wouldn’t have picked you for such a romantic, Rodney.”
“Yes, well, one of the constants of the universe is that people suck and the more time they’re forced to share space the worse it gets. Take you, for example. I’m betting that in pretty short order you two found you didn’t have much in common besides a piece of paper.”
John was half-disappointed that the death glare he was currently training on Rodney was wasted in the dark. “That’s not what happened,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“Right, because obviously you lived happily ever after.”
“She died.” John spat out, not so much in the interests of sharing but to stop Rodney’s babbling.
“Oh,” Rodney whispered, his face flaming. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m going to shut up now.” He lasted a masterful five minutes before he asked, “How did you meet?”
“Rodney, did it ever occur to you that the reason I don’t talk about it is because I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Well, I can’t think of anything else and if we just sit here I’ll start thinking about how the walls really aren’t that high, so there’s probably not a lot of oxygen and we have no idea when they’ll be able to get through and we don’t have our packs so we have to survive on whatever we’ve got in our pockets and…”
“OK, OK. I get it. More talk equals less panic.”
“I’m not panicking; I’m just assessing the situation.”
John rolled his eyes; somehow, even though he knew Rodney couldn’t see him, making the gesture helped. “I was stateside, between tours. An old buddy asked me to do a guest lecture and she was one of his grad students. She was about to start her MS when she got pregnant.”
“A grad student?”
“I was twenty-five!” John said defensively.
“Right, right, sorry. Shutting up now.”
John started tracing lines in the dirt; rhythmical patterns, schematics he could draw out with his eyes closed (which was just as well, given the circumstances) - anything to keep him in the here-and-now and not the then-and-crappy. “So she dropped out and we had this cliché registry office thing and her parents just went mental, told her she was throwing her life away. After that, all we had was each other.”
“I can't believe all this time I never knew you had a kid.” Rodney pondered for a moment and then his eyes widened. “Oh my god! You’re actually talking about yourself. You think we’re going to die, don’t you? Oh my god?”
“Rodney, if you hyperventilate you’ll just use up more oxygen.”
“Great, thanks Colonel, that’s so soothing.”
John sighed; there was nothing for it now but to try and distract Rodney again. “So,” he said loudly, continuing his story, “she moved on-base and I went on tour and then she starts sending me these letters.” He was picking at his boot-laces now, his voice stripped of all emotion. “All she did was complain, you know? About the isolation, the loneliness, the way the other wives looked at her. What was I supposed to do? I was half a world away, so I…” John took a deep breath. “I stopped opening them.”
For years John had wondered what it would feel like to admit this to someone, to see their reaction - and it was oddly fitting that he only found the guts to do it when he couldn’t see. Thing was, after all the other mistakes he’d made, the way he’d screwed up his career, he’d thought that maybe it wouldn’t matter; maybe he couldn’t sink any lower. John Sheppard was surprised to find, however, that he did care what people thought of him; he actually had something to lose.
“I couldn’t deal with it, not on top of everything I was seeing out there; I wanted to believe that there was something good waiting for me back home, so I just… pretended.” Rodney still wasn’t saying anything and from experience, John knew that couldn’t be good, but now that he’d gotten warmed up he found that he couldn’t stop talking.
“She lost the baby at five months and I never even knew. I was in Bosnia when she died. Her parents made all the arrangements without me. Had her cremated before I even got back. To them, I was just some loser jock who’d knocked up their daughter.”
Finally Rodney broke his stunned silence. “Wow, they must have moved fast.” He winced, knowing it was a stupid, inane thing to say but John was taking up all the deep-and-meaningful for both of them (and hey, he’d never have thought that would happen). In the end, it was the inanity that broke John.
“They told me it was an accident, that she just fell asleep at the wheel but I knew. It was my fault. I should’ve done something. She gave up everything for me and I screwed her over.” John's breath was ragged, his heart beating so fast it felt like it was pounding against his ribs
Silence dragged out between them for several uncomfortable minutes and then Rodney cleared his throat. "Well. Look, Colonel, uh. I'm not going to pretend that I'm good at... well, warm fuzzies but if there's one thing I've become painfully aware of it's that everyone fucks up at some point and you either let it control the rest of your life or you... don't," he finished lamely.
John let his head fall back against the wall of the cave. "Yeah."
"So," Rodney said, clapping his hands together. "Did I ever tell you about Siberia?" He filled the space between them with rapid, continuous chatter until, gradually, John felt the knot in his chest loosen.