All the King's Men (Amnesty 2007/Scars challenge)
Title: All the King's Men
Author: wraithkeeper
Word Count: 1,100
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, but it doesn't contain any sexual content
Disclaimer: I don't own Atlantis or John and Rodney - imagine the fun I'd have if I did!
Summary: Healing scars take time and love. Rodney helps John overcome his emotional scars.
A/N: McShep, tag to Common Ground and sequel to All the King's Horses. And thanks to
diamond_ravenfor convincing me to write this and giving me the idea.
Rodney knocked impatiently on John’s door. It momentarily crossed his mind that it was nearly two in the morning and therefore was possible that John was just asleep, in which case Rodney should feel guilty for trying to wake him up. Rodney shrugged it off and pounded on the door a little harder.
When John still didn’t let him in, Rodney hunched over the control panel and pried off its cover. Moving the crystals around, Rodney watched successfully as the door slid open. Even under the signal from the control panel, the door moved sluggishly as if someone were telling it to stay closed. Rodney scowled. It would take a very strong gene to almost stop a manual override.
“So, any reason why you don’t want me coming in?” Rodney asked as he stood in the doorway.
The lights were turned off, but the room was vaguely lit by the soft blue glow of the hallway lights. Rodney could see John stretched out on his bed, feet dangling off the end of the mattress and an arm slung over his eyes. Rodney stepped into the room and heard the door immediately whoosh shut behind him. Without the light from the hallway, the room was cast into darkness.
“Well?” Rodney pressed, and was rewarded with a frustrated sigh.
The lights rose to a dim glow and Rodney saw that John still hadn’t moved. Rodney scanned his eyes across the room, looking for the empty bottle of alcohol that he half expected to be there. There was no bottle, but Rodney did see the dismantled clock lying on the desk and the empty space where John’s computer should have been.
Rodney frowned, “Where’s your laptop?”
John wearily dragged his arm away from his face and let it drop limply to the mattress. He tilted his head to look at Rodney, “What, you came here to borrow my computer?”
Rodney sighed at how tired John’s voice sounded. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside him, reaching out a hand and placing it on John’s knee with a reassuring squeeze.
“Are you okay?” Rodney asked gently.
John didn’t answer, and Rodney was confused by the lack of his normal response of ‘I’m fine.’ Rodney took another look around the room in search of the mysteriously absent liquor bottle. The way John was acting strangely, Rodney knew it must be around here somewhere. Instead he saw the laptop lying on the floor against the far wall. Then he also noticed the crack along the plastic and the way it twisted on its hinges.
Rodney stood up and walked over to where the broken piece of equipment sat. He bent down and gripped the corner of the screen in his fingers, lifting it up. He jumped back, startled, when the hinges gave way and the bottom half of the laptop crashed to the floor. That was apparently the last straw for the computer and the casing shattered like peanut brittle as it smashed into the unyielding floor.
Hearing a sharp intake of breath from behind him, Rodney turned to see that John’s body was tense and he was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Then his body melted in relief as he realized what the sound had been. Rodney tore his eyes away from John and looked back at the remains of the computer. He was still holding the screen in his hands, and a few wires trailed out of it like snakes to end buried in the shards of the keyboard. Rodney scooped up the broken pieces and carried them over to John’s desk, where he dumped them in a pile on top of the silent clock. After insuring that none of the pieces were going to slide off the desk and clatter to the floor, Rodney returned to John’s side by the bed and bent down to retrieve a blanket that John must have kicked onto the floor. Shaking off the dust clinging to it, Rodney draped the blanket over John’s stiff form.
Rodney kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed beside John. He rested a questioning hand on John’s shoulder until John turned into him and rested his head against Rodney’s neck. Rodney slid closer and pulled the blanket over both of them. He raised a hand to John’s head and ran his finger’s through the unruly hair, stroking his head like he would pet a cat.
“What’s wrong?” Rodney asked quietly.
John buried his face into Rodney’s neck, causing his answer to come out muffled, “It’s too loud.”
“What is?”
Rodney waited a minute for John to answer before prodding him gently, “John, what’s too loud?”
Rodney could barely make out John’s muffled voice as he replied, “Everything.”
A worried frown crossed Rodney’s face as he strained his ears in the quiet room. All he heard was the faint whistling of the wind outside and the slight hum of the city’s ventilation system.
“I don’t hear anything.”
John turned his face so his voice wouldn’t be blocked by Rodney’s neck, but it was still barely a whisper, “It’s all like it was back there. The sounds… they remind me of it.”
“Okay,” Rodney said, even though he didn’t quite understand, “It’ll be okay.”
He drew John closer to him, tightening his arms around his tense shoulders. Then he started to talk. Meaningless words about what projects he was working on in the labs, and how all the other scientists are of no help, and how the mess hall ran out of cake at lunch yesterday before he’d had a chance to eat a slice. He covered every subject from the weather to complex physics theories, and the only things he didn’t mention were the Wraith and the Genii. John curled tighter against his chest and listened to the unending monologue that washed over him and blocked all the other noises in the room.
Right about the time Rodney’s voice was starting to go hoarse, he felt John’s breathing even out as he sagged bonelessly against Rodney. He continued talking for a few more minutes until he was certain that John wasn’t going to wake up again, then he rested his chin against the black spikes of John’s hair and allowed his eyes to drift closed. The sound of John’s deep breaths lulled Rodney into sleep, and the rest of the night was spent intertwined with each other as each of their presences warded off the demons of the other’s nightmares. The sound of the wind whipping past the window went unheard.
FIN
Author: wraithkeeper
Word Count: 1,100
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, but it doesn't contain any sexual content
Disclaimer: I don't own Atlantis or John and Rodney - imagine the fun I'd have if I did!
Summary: Healing scars take time and love. Rodney helps John overcome his emotional scars.
A/N: McShep, tag to Common Ground and sequel to All the King's Horses. And thanks to
diamond_ravenfor convincing me to write this and giving me the idea.
Rodney knocked impatiently on John’s door. It momentarily crossed his mind that it was nearly two in the morning and therefore was possible that John was just asleep, in which case Rodney should feel guilty for trying to wake him up. Rodney shrugged it off and pounded on the door a little harder.
When John still didn’t let him in, Rodney hunched over the control panel and pried off its cover. Moving the crystals around, Rodney watched successfully as the door slid open. Even under the signal from the control panel, the door moved sluggishly as if someone were telling it to stay closed. Rodney scowled. It would take a very strong gene to almost stop a manual override.
“So, any reason why you don’t want me coming in?” Rodney asked as he stood in the doorway.
The lights were turned off, but the room was vaguely lit by the soft blue glow of the hallway lights. Rodney could see John stretched out on his bed, feet dangling off the end of the mattress and an arm slung over his eyes. Rodney stepped into the room and heard the door immediately whoosh shut behind him. Without the light from the hallway, the room was cast into darkness.
“Well?” Rodney pressed, and was rewarded with a frustrated sigh.
The lights rose to a dim glow and Rodney saw that John still hadn’t moved. Rodney scanned his eyes across the room, looking for the empty bottle of alcohol that he half expected to be there. There was no bottle, but Rodney did see the dismantled clock lying on the desk and the empty space where John’s computer should have been.
Rodney frowned, “Where’s your laptop?”
John wearily dragged his arm away from his face and let it drop limply to the mattress. He tilted his head to look at Rodney, “What, you came here to borrow my computer?”
Rodney sighed at how tired John’s voice sounded. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside him, reaching out a hand and placing it on John’s knee with a reassuring squeeze.
“Are you okay?” Rodney asked gently.
John didn’t answer, and Rodney was confused by the lack of his normal response of ‘I’m fine.’ Rodney took another look around the room in search of the mysteriously absent liquor bottle. The way John was acting strangely, Rodney knew it must be around here somewhere. Instead he saw the laptop lying on the floor against the far wall. Then he also noticed the crack along the plastic and the way it twisted on its hinges.
Rodney stood up and walked over to where the broken piece of equipment sat. He bent down and gripped the corner of the screen in his fingers, lifting it up. He jumped back, startled, when the hinges gave way and the bottom half of the laptop crashed to the floor. That was apparently the last straw for the computer and the casing shattered like peanut brittle as it smashed into the unyielding floor.
Hearing a sharp intake of breath from behind him, Rodney turned to see that John’s body was tense and he was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Then his body melted in relief as he realized what the sound had been. Rodney tore his eyes away from John and looked back at the remains of the computer. He was still holding the screen in his hands, and a few wires trailed out of it like snakes to end buried in the shards of the keyboard. Rodney scooped up the broken pieces and carried them over to John’s desk, where he dumped them in a pile on top of the silent clock. After insuring that none of the pieces were going to slide off the desk and clatter to the floor, Rodney returned to John’s side by the bed and bent down to retrieve a blanket that John must have kicked onto the floor. Shaking off the dust clinging to it, Rodney draped the blanket over John’s stiff form.
Rodney kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed beside John. He rested a questioning hand on John’s shoulder until John turned into him and rested his head against Rodney’s neck. Rodney slid closer and pulled the blanket over both of them. He raised a hand to John’s head and ran his finger’s through the unruly hair, stroking his head like he would pet a cat.
“What’s wrong?” Rodney asked quietly.
John buried his face into Rodney’s neck, causing his answer to come out muffled, “It’s too loud.”
“What is?”
Rodney waited a minute for John to answer before prodding him gently, “John, what’s too loud?”
Rodney could barely make out John’s muffled voice as he replied, “Everything.”
A worried frown crossed Rodney’s face as he strained his ears in the quiet room. All he heard was the faint whistling of the wind outside and the slight hum of the city’s ventilation system.
“I don’t hear anything.”
John turned his face so his voice wouldn’t be blocked by Rodney’s neck, but it was still barely a whisper, “It’s all like it was back there. The sounds… they remind me of it.”
“Okay,” Rodney said, even though he didn’t quite understand, “It’ll be okay.”
He drew John closer to him, tightening his arms around his tense shoulders. Then he started to talk. Meaningless words about what projects he was working on in the labs, and how all the other scientists are of no help, and how the mess hall ran out of cake at lunch yesterday before he’d had a chance to eat a slice. He covered every subject from the weather to complex physics theories, and the only things he didn’t mention were the Wraith and the Genii. John curled tighter against his chest and listened to the unending monologue that washed over him and blocked all the other noises in the room.
Right about the time Rodney’s voice was starting to go hoarse, he felt John’s breathing even out as he sagged bonelessly against Rodney. He continued talking for a few more minutes until he was certain that John wasn’t going to wake up again, then he rested his chin against the black spikes of John’s hair and allowed his eyes to drift closed. The sound of John’s deep breaths lulled Rodney into sleep, and the rest of the night was spent intertwined with each other as each of their presences warded off the demons of the other’s nightmares. The sound of the wind whipping past the window went unheard.
FIN