lullaby by silverspar (Not Dead Yet Challenge)
LENGTH/RATING: 465 words, PG
PAIRING: McKay/Sheppard
WARNING: Spoilers for season 4 episode "The Last Man" (episode tag kinda) and the rest of s4.
Teyla’s son is beautiful and healthy. Or red and puffy and screaming - which basically means the same thing. She names him Evan after Major Lorne, who was lost. John is moved and shaky from the ordeal. He thinks Teyla broke his arm around hour four, though. Ronon smirks at him, mouthing “Walk it off.”
Rodney is harassing Jennifer about the barbaric torture that is a natural delivery, ranting about transporters and the wisdom of epidurals until John grabs at his elbow and tugs him away, queasy and resentful. Rodney smiles at him then, bright and appealing.
It takes John a while to figure out why Rodney smiled like he did at that moment, but when he understands the truth, he says nothing. The toxic combination of gratitude and bitterness churns in his gut until he stumbles near a wall and vomits against it.
“Sheppard?” Rodney seems genuinely worried, and awkwardly rests a hand on John’s shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s okay Rodney. Thanks,” John manages around the sourness in his mouth and the plummeting sensation in his heart.
Most days John doesn’t dwell. He goes on missions and if he’s a little reckless in the field, well, it always works out in their favor. He teaches Evan football and basketball. Evan likes hockey better, much to Rodney’s satisfaction.
But the day Jennifer finds the cure for Carson it’s too much and the rage explodes out of John in all directions. All directions seem to lead back to McKay, so John storms into Rodney’s room and shoves. Rodney staggers backwards into his bed, falling on his ass, clearly shocked.
“What the hell?”
“It can’t be perfect, McKay. I can’t forget if it’s perfect.”
“Again I say: what the hell?”
“I know this isn’t real.”
“John - ”
John closes his eyes and breathes deep. His sense of discipline is slipping. Everything is slippery here, fluid. He never dreams. When he wakes every morning he feels as though he has just begun to.
“You can’t accept that anything good would ever happen to us,” Rodney mumbles.
John opens his eyes and finds Rodney hunched into himself, a hand over his face.
“Rodney . . .”
“I just. I didn’t want you to die alone. Like Sam did. Like I did.”
“But I will. I’m alone in stasis and there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve already surpassed your programming, okay? I do appreciate the effort, but . . .”
“You’d rather just not wake up.”
John shrugs. “It’s better than living a lie.”
Rodney chuckles cynically and stands. “That’s all we ever did.”
I always knew and It always meant something - but what was the point in telling the truth to a hologram? John lay down on the vacated bed and blinked up at the ceiling, strange dampness in his eyes betraying him.
“Rodney?”
“Yes?”
“It was a nice dream.”
PAIRING: McKay/Sheppard
WARNING: Spoilers for season 4 episode "The Last Man" (episode tag kinda) and the rest of s4.
Teyla’s son is beautiful and healthy. Or red and puffy and screaming - which basically means the same thing. She names him Evan after Major Lorne, who was lost. John is moved and shaky from the ordeal. He thinks Teyla broke his arm around hour four, though. Ronon smirks at him, mouthing “Walk it off.”
Rodney is harassing Jennifer about the barbaric torture that is a natural delivery, ranting about transporters and the wisdom of epidurals until John grabs at his elbow and tugs him away, queasy and resentful. Rodney smiles at him then, bright and appealing.
It takes John a while to figure out why Rodney smiled like he did at that moment, but when he understands the truth, he says nothing. The toxic combination of gratitude and bitterness churns in his gut until he stumbles near a wall and vomits against it.
“Sheppard?” Rodney seems genuinely worried, and awkwardly rests a hand on John’s shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s okay Rodney. Thanks,” John manages around the sourness in his mouth and the plummeting sensation in his heart.
Most days John doesn’t dwell. He goes on missions and if he’s a little reckless in the field, well, it always works out in their favor. He teaches Evan football and basketball. Evan likes hockey better, much to Rodney’s satisfaction.
But the day Jennifer finds the cure for Carson it’s too much and the rage explodes out of John in all directions. All directions seem to lead back to McKay, so John storms into Rodney’s room and shoves. Rodney staggers backwards into his bed, falling on his ass, clearly shocked.
“What the hell?”
“It can’t be perfect, McKay. I can’t forget if it’s perfect.”
“Again I say: what the hell?”
“I know this isn’t real.”
“John - ”
John closes his eyes and breathes deep. His sense of discipline is slipping. Everything is slippery here, fluid. He never dreams. When he wakes every morning he feels as though he has just begun to.
“You can’t accept that anything good would ever happen to us,” Rodney mumbles.
John opens his eyes and finds Rodney hunched into himself, a hand over his face.
“Rodney . . .”
“I just. I didn’t want you to die alone. Like Sam did. Like I did.”
“But I will. I’m alone in stasis and there’s nothing more you can do. You’ve already surpassed your programming, okay? I do appreciate the effort, but . . .”
“You’d rather just not wake up.”
John shrugs. “It’s better than living a lie.”
Rodney chuckles cynically and stands. “That’s all we ever did.”
I always knew and It always meant something - but what was the point in telling the truth to a hologram? John lay down on the vacated bed and blinked up at the ceiling, strange dampness in his eyes betraying him.
“Rodney?”
“Yes?”
“It was a nice dream.”