SKIN BY wildcat88 [LFWS #1 ROUND 11]
Title: Skin
Author: wildcat88
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Spoilers: None
Prompt for the Round: Write a fic emphasizing the friendship and support the team has for each other. Use from two to all characters of the list.
SKIN by wildcat88
John blew out a shaky breath and stepped through the infirmary doors. Monitors chirped rhythmically, and antiseptic attempted to disguise the scent of illness. Ronon stood beside the drawn privacy curtain, staring blankly at his reflection in the darkened screen of an Ancient scanner.
“How is she?” John asked.
Ronon didn’t turn. “Same.”
“Dammit. What did Keller say?”
“That the medicine’s working. That Teyla should feel better soon.”
John frowned at the flat monotone. “You don’t believe her?”
One shoulder lifted. “See for yourself.”
Steeling himself, John pulled aside the curtain and felt his heart stop. Teyla, jaundiced and frail, was sitting up, eyes closed, humming softly. Her hair...
He blinked rapidly and put on his best grin. “Hey, Teyla.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she ran a self-conscious hand over her head. “I asked Jennifer to cut the rest off. It was falling out.”
“You look great.”
“And you lie worse than Rodney.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “It’s only hair. It will grow again.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Weak. I no longer have the strength to hold Torren.” The words sounded matter-of-fact, but her eyes told a different story.
“It’s temporary, you know.”
Teyla gave a small nod. “I know. I have spent many hours tending those with Balen’s Syndrome.” She sighed heavily. “The cure is almost as unpleasant as the disease.”
John forced away childhood memories of his aunt, a hospital, cancer. “At least it’s a permanent cure.”
“I cannot imagine what it would be like to have a disease such as this return.” Her face contorted, and she hunched forward. “John…”
He held her as she retched then he wiped her face with a damp cloth and stroked her hand until she fell asleep. Stumbling out, he clenched his fists and choked back a howl of frustration. Ronon was still standing in the same place, his entire body quivering.
“You’re sure she’s going to beat this?” John bit out.
“No.”
“Ronon-”
“I don’t know!” Ronon slammed his hands on the diagnostic bed. “I’ve never been through-” His shoulders sagged as he turned to face John. “Melena tended the sick. She always said heavy doses of folred cured Balen’s but that it made the patients very sick. I didn’t know... I didn’t realize...”
John scrubbed the back of his neck. “Can we do anything to help her?”
Ronon’s chin lifted. He spun to gaze at his reflection again then pulled a knife and hacked off a dreadlock.
“What are you doing?”
Another lock fell. “Don’t want her to feel alone.”
An emergency called John away before he could wrap his mind around Ronon’s words. An hour later, he found himself in his quarters, staring at his own reflection. The stench of antiseptic suffocated him, clinging to his clothes, his skin, his hair...
I’d do anything for any one of you.
John raked his fingers through the dark spikes. “It’s only hair,” he repeated. “It will grow again.” Biting his lip, he grabbed the scissors and began cutting.
When he finished, he toweled off the last wisps of shaving cream and grinned at the bald man in the mirror. He couldn’t heal Teyla’s body, but maybe he could lift her spirits. Head held high, he strode out of his room, ignoring the stunned expressions around him, and made his way to the infirmary.
A hairless Ronon was leaning against the wall outside the drawn curtain, a smile splitting his face. “Nice.”
John shrugged. “It’s only hair.” He glanced at the curtain. “What’s up?”
“Keller just left.”
The doors opened, and a ball-capped McKay entered, his jaw dropping when he spotted them. Then he pulled off his cap and rubbed a hand over the stubble. “Electric razor.”
John smiled warmly. “Looks good, Rodney.”
“I’m ready,” Teyla called. “You may enter.”
Ronon pushed aside the curtain, and they crowded in. Tears filled Teyla’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks as her gaze darted from one teammate to the next. She clutched Ronon’s arm and pulled him down, smoothing a trembling hand over his head. “What have you done?”
“It’s going to grow back, right?” McKay whispered.
As Teyla’s laughter filled the room, John answered honestly, “It doesn’t matter.”
Don’t forget to leave ONLY FEEDBACK in the comments and NOT VOTES. All comments will be screened until the voting closes.
Author: wildcat88
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Spoilers: None
Prompt for the Round: Write a fic emphasizing the friendship and support the team has for each other. Use from two to all characters of the list.
SKIN by wildcat88
John blew out a shaky breath and stepped through the infirmary doors. Monitors chirped rhythmically, and antiseptic attempted to disguise the scent of illness. Ronon stood beside the drawn privacy curtain, staring blankly at his reflection in the darkened screen of an Ancient scanner.
“How is she?” John asked.
Ronon didn’t turn. “Same.”
“Dammit. What did Keller say?”
“That the medicine’s working. That Teyla should feel better soon.”
John frowned at the flat monotone. “You don’t believe her?”
One shoulder lifted. “See for yourself.”
Steeling himself, John pulled aside the curtain and felt his heart stop. Teyla, jaundiced and frail, was sitting up, eyes closed, humming softly. Her hair...
He blinked rapidly and put on his best grin. “Hey, Teyla.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she ran a self-conscious hand over her head. “I asked Jennifer to cut the rest off. It was falling out.”
“You look great.”
“And you lie worse than Rodney.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “It’s only hair. It will grow again.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Weak. I no longer have the strength to hold Torren.” The words sounded matter-of-fact, but her eyes told a different story.
“It’s temporary, you know.”
Teyla gave a small nod. “I know. I have spent many hours tending those with Balen’s Syndrome.” She sighed heavily. “The cure is almost as unpleasant as the disease.”
John forced away childhood memories of his aunt, a hospital, cancer. “At least it’s a permanent cure.”
“I cannot imagine what it would be like to have a disease such as this return.” Her face contorted, and she hunched forward. “John…”
He held her as she retched then he wiped her face with a damp cloth and stroked her hand until she fell asleep. Stumbling out, he clenched his fists and choked back a howl of frustration. Ronon was still standing in the same place, his entire body quivering.
“You’re sure she’s going to beat this?” John bit out.
“No.”
“Ronon-”
“I don’t know!” Ronon slammed his hands on the diagnostic bed. “I’ve never been through-” His shoulders sagged as he turned to face John. “Melena tended the sick. She always said heavy doses of folred cured Balen’s but that it made the patients very sick. I didn’t know... I didn’t realize...”
John scrubbed the back of his neck. “Can we do anything to help her?”
Ronon’s chin lifted. He spun to gaze at his reflection again then pulled a knife and hacked off a dreadlock.
“What are you doing?”
Another lock fell. “Don’t want her to feel alone.”
An emergency called John away before he could wrap his mind around Ronon’s words. An hour later, he found himself in his quarters, staring at his own reflection. The stench of antiseptic suffocated him, clinging to his clothes, his skin, his hair...
I’d do anything for any one of you.
John raked his fingers through the dark spikes. “It’s only hair,” he repeated. “It will grow again.” Biting his lip, he grabbed the scissors and began cutting.
When he finished, he toweled off the last wisps of shaving cream and grinned at the bald man in the mirror. He couldn’t heal Teyla’s body, but maybe he could lift her spirits. Head held high, he strode out of his room, ignoring the stunned expressions around him, and made his way to the infirmary.
A hairless Ronon was leaning against the wall outside the drawn curtain, a smile splitting his face. “Nice.”
John shrugged. “It’s only hair.” He glanced at the curtain. “What’s up?”
“Keller just left.”
The doors opened, and a ball-capped McKay entered, his jaw dropping when he spotted them. Then he pulled off his cap and rubbed a hand over the stubble. “Electric razor.”
John smiled warmly. “Looks good, Rodney.”
“I’m ready,” Teyla called. “You may enter.”
Ronon pushed aside the curtain, and they crowded in. Tears filled Teyla’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks as her gaze darted from one teammate to the next. She clutched Ronon’s arm and pulled him down, smoothing a trembling hand over his head. “What have you done?”
“It’s going to grow back, right?” McKay whispered.
As Teyla’s laughter filled the room, John answered honestly, “It doesn’t matter.”
Don’t forget to leave ONLY FEEDBACK in the comments and NOT VOTES. All comments will be screened until the voting closes.