Fic: O! Let Me Suffer (No Precious Time Series, 11/28)
Title: O! Let Me Suffer (No Precious Time Series, 11/28)
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally." - Abraham Lincoln
Biro frowned down at the Genii man and made a note in his chart. Even with anticonvulsants, they were having a hard time keeping him from having seizures. There was simply too much stress on the swollen brain. His eyes fluttered open and he rolled, scrabbling for the emesis basin. She quickly grabbed it and placed it under his mouth, rubbing his back soothingly as he retched. There wasn't much there-- they'd gone to IV feeding when he couldn't keep anything down. He finally stopped heaving and rolled onto his back, eyes sliding shut, exhausted.
"I'm not going to make it, am I?"
"Oh, we don't know that," she tried to reassure him. "There's no reason to think this virus is always or even usually deadly."
"I heard ninety-five percent."
"Ninety-five percent? You heard that here?"
"No," he answered. "Among the Genii doctors."
She stared down at him, possibilities running through her mind. "How would they know?" she asked, keeping her voice light.
He sighed, already sinking back toward unconsciousness. "Pris'ner..." he slurred and was asleep.
***
"No, Ladon, you listen to me," Elizabeth snapped. "We have just had another one of the former slaves die, this time by her own hand. These people-- these children-- are suffering and dying while we struggle to cure them, including some of your own people, and you have a prisoner with information on this virus whom you haven't bothered to mention to us? I thought we were allies."
"Believe me, Doctor Weir, this prisoner has nothing of value to add to your studies of this disease," Ladon said in a calming voice, which only made her angrier.
"I'll let my scientists be the judge of that. You can't possibly know what they would find useful."
"The prisoner doesn't deal directly with the virus or the administration of it."
"Then how would he know the fatality rate?" she demanded.
He hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "She knows because it affects her profit margins."
Elizabeth's fists clenched, thinking of Carson screaming in pain in the gate room. "She's a slave trader?"
He nodded.
"I want to speak to her. Immediately."
***
"And what exactly possessed Meyers to think this was a good idea?" Rodney demanded into his headset, pausing for just a second before interrupting. "What?! I have no words for how utterly imbecilic that is. My cat is smarter! I-- What are you doing?"
This last was addressed to Carson, who had just reached over and pulled the headset from Rodney's ear. In answer, Carson moved the laptop from Rodney's lap and took its place, kneeling astride his lover's legs and then covering Rodney's mouth with his own.
"Oh," Rodney said. "Is it that time again? I kind of lost tr--"
"Rodney. Shut up. Or I'll shut you up with my cock down your throat." Rodney shuddered and Carson could feel his lover suddenly harden against him. "Then again..." He reached down and freed his own erection. "... maybe I'll do that anyway."
"Um. Okay." Rodney scooted down till his mouth was even with Carson's cock.
Carson slipped a hand behind Rodney's head, supporting it as he used the other hand to direct himself into Rodney's mouth, shuddering and moaning as the wet heat enveloped him. "Oh, yes, love!" His fingers traced Rodney's face as he gazed down into his lover's eyes, open and intimate. "Are ye ready?"
Rodney nodded, tilting his head back just a bit, tongue already sliding along Carson's cock in delicious teasing motions.
At other times, Carson might have stayed still, let Rodney's tongue pleasure him, make his lover suck him till he came, but right now he wanted to fuck that crooked mouth, watch Rodney take his cock. He jerked back and pushed forward, feeling Rodney relax, submit, give himself up to Carson's pleasure. Rodney's throat opened up and Carson groaned as his cock head slid against Rodney's soft palette and into the tighter confines beyond.
Rodney's hands curled around Carson's hips, not directing, merely holding, squeezing slightly as Carson withdrew and plunged in again.
Carson took up a rhythm, not hard, but confident, as one thumb rubbed along the corner of Rodney's mouth, stretched around his cock. Watching Rodney just take him was heady and it wasn't long before he felt his balls beginning to draw up. He froze, fighting the urge to thrust, spinning the pleasure out. Rodney looked up, nothing but love and trust in his eyes and Carson's fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him forward as Carson's hips thrust, till Rodney's nose was pushed into the triangle of pubic hair. "Oh, God!" Carson gasped and throbbed into his lover's mouth, shuddering as Rodney swallowed around him.
He didn't know how long he knelt there, lost in the pleasure of Rodney's mouth, before he came back to himself. He relaxed his hold, petting through Rodney's hair. His lover wriggled back upward between his legs, till Carson was once again straddling Rodney's lap. He leaned down and kissed Rodney, tasting himself in his lover's mouth, humming in appreciation at the flavour.
"Can I return the favour, love?" he asked.
Rodney hummed and shook his head. "I'm going to wait till next time."
Rodney's hands palmed his arse and Carson grinned. "Oh, I think I like this plan..."
***
"Hey," Ronon said, stopping in the doorway to Sheppard's room and taking in the former military leader. Sheppard was sitting on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, head bowed, hands fisted in his hair.
Sheppard looked up and Ronon noted the dark circles under his eyes. "Hey, Ronon. I thought this area was off-limits."
Ronon shrugged. "It is for Earth personnel. Doesn't include Teyla or me."
Sheppard gave a smirk, though it seemed forced. "Loophole, eh? What's up?"
"You need to spar."
"I don't think I'm up to it right now."
Ronon crossed his arms. "You need to spar."
"Really, Ronon, I'm not in the mood."
Ronon lifted an eyebrow and stood, waiting.
"Really."
"Uhuh."
"Are you just going to stand there?" Sheppard demanded irritably after a few minutes.
"Yeah."
They waited. Finally, Sheppard sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll come spar. Happy?"
Ronon grinned, knowing it looked feral. "Sure. Come on."
***
Elizabeth wasn't sure what she'd been expecting-- perhaps a femme fatale with long nails and dead eyes, someone hard and cold-- but whatever it was, this was not it. The prisoner, one Marva Smin, was plump, with a round face and soft brown eyes, like someone's grandmother. There were dark circles under her eyes now and she looked at Elizabeth and Teyla warily.
Even Teyla seemed to hesitate upon seeing the woman. Her gaze flicked to Elizabeth, a slight lift of one eyebrow communicating her surprise.
"You are Marva Smin?" Teyla asked.
The woman smiled, not an evil smile at all. "Yes, I am."
"And you're a slave trader?" Elizabeth asked.
The woman nodded. "Yes. I handle all the negotiations and financial records for my sons. You had questions about the virus?"
Teyla and Elizabeth glanced at each other. "Yes," Teyla said. "What can you tell us about it?"
"Well, I don't deal with the actual virus. That's up to the Escans to do. They're very secretive. And expensive, but you can get four or more times the price for a pleasure slave that's been treated than for one that hasn't, so it's worth it."
"Have you ever seen these slaves that have this done to them?" Elizabeth demanded.
"Oh, no, dear. My sons don't like me dirtying my hands, so to speak. They're very protective."
"How very kind of them," Teyla said.
"Yes. They're good boys," Marva said, missing the undertone of sarcasm. "I can tell you that of the slaves we send to the Escans for treatment, about half take to the virus. The other half have negative reactions, try to fight it. Most of those die. The Escans are supposedly working on improving the take rate and reducing the fatalities."
"How many live?" Elizabeth asked.
"Of the ones where the virus doesn't take? Maybe five out of a hundred. Very few. The Escans pay good money for those that live, though."
"And you do not know how the virus works or what is involved in its introduction?"
"No. Like I say, the Escans are very secretive. I hear they hurt some friends of yours who tried to take some of it from them. I'm sorry to hear that."
"We are sorry as well. Thank you for your time."
"Anything I can do, dearie. Could you ask my captors for some food for me? I'm very hungry."
Teyla plastered on a smile. "I will see what we can do."
***
"And then the idiot sticks his field knife into the soil right next to the plant and starts digging. I couldn't help but ask him if he was completely unfamiliar with the concept of roots. It was just..." Christopher Parrish paused as Evan's eyes drooped closed. "I'm sorry, Maj-, er, Colonel. I should let you rest."
Evan's eyes popped open, wide, like a child trying to keep himself awake. "No-no. Chris, please, stay." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Keep talking."
"Colonel, you need to sleep."
"Don't wanna."
Parrish considered him. "Why ever not?"
Evan was silent till Parrish began to think he'd fallen asleep. Then, very quietly, he said, "'Fraid I won't wake up."
"Oh, Evan!" Parrish cast a quick glance out the door of Lorne's private infirmary room and then reached out and took the military man's hand. "I'm... I'm sorry it didn't work out."
Evan squeezed weakly. "Friends are impor--" His sentence was cut off by a gurgling sound as his body went rigid, hand clamping down hard.
"Shit!" Parrish gasped, trying to free himself as he yelled to the infirmary staff. "Help! He's having some sort of seizure!" Evan relaxed suddenly and he yanked his hand free before his friend and teammate's body spasmed again.
Doctor Cortes arrived, pushing him aside, looking grim. She began barking orders-- something about pheny-something-- and he stood there helplessly until a nurse caromed into him in her rush. "Liles, get him out of here!" she called to an orderly.
And then he was being shuffled out of the way. He stood for a moment in shock and then turned to look into the private room next to Evan's-- empty now, ruthlessly clean, no reminder of the Genii man who had lain there, who had died there, his body wracked with seizures.
"Oh, God!" He leaned against the wall and waited.
Next chapter
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally." - Abraham Lincoln
Biro frowned down at the Genii man and made a note in his chart. Even with anticonvulsants, they were having a hard time keeping him from having seizures. There was simply too much stress on the swollen brain. His eyes fluttered open and he rolled, scrabbling for the emesis basin. She quickly grabbed it and placed it under his mouth, rubbing his back soothingly as he retched. There wasn't much there-- they'd gone to IV feeding when he couldn't keep anything down. He finally stopped heaving and rolled onto his back, eyes sliding shut, exhausted.
"I'm not going to make it, am I?"
"Oh, we don't know that," she tried to reassure him. "There's no reason to think this virus is always or even usually deadly."
"I heard ninety-five percent."
"Ninety-five percent? You heard that here?"
"No," he answered. "Among the Genii doctors."
She stared down at him, possibilities running through her mind. "How would they know?" she asked, keeping her voice light.
He sighed, already sinking back toward unconsciousness. "Pris'ner..." he slurred and was asleep.
***
"No, Ladon, you listen to me," Elizabeth snapped. "We have just had another one of the former slaves die, this time by her own hand. These people-- these children-- are suffering and dying while we struggle to cure them, including some of your own people, and you have a prisoner with information on this virus whom you haven't bothered to mention to us? I thought we were allies."
"Believe me, Doctor Weir, this prisoner has nothing of value to add to your studies of this disease," Ladon said in a calming voice, which only made her angrier.
"I'll let my scientists be the judge of that. You can't possibly know what they would find useful."
"The prisoner doesn't deal directly with the virus or the administration of it."
"Then how would he know the fatality rate?" she demanded.
He hesitated a moment, then shrugged. "She knows because it affects her profit margins."
Elizabeth's fists clenched, thinking of Carson screaming in pain in the gate room. "She's a slave trader?"
He nodded.
"I want to speak to her. Immediately."
***
"And what exactly possessed Meyers to think this was a good idea?" Rodney demanded into his headset, pausing for just a second before interrupting. "What?! I have no words for how utterly imbecilic that is. My cat is smarter! I-- What are you doing?"
This last was addressed to Carson, who had just reached over and pulled the headset from Rodney's ear. In answer, Carson moved the laptop from Rodney's lap and took its place, kneeling astride his lover's legs and then covering Rodney's mouth with his own.
"Oh," Rodney said. "Is it that time again? I kind of lost tr--"
"Rodney. Shut up. Or I'll shut you up with my cock down your throat." Rodney shuddered and Carson could feel his lover suddenly harden against him. "Then again..." He reached down and freed his own erection. "... maybe I'll do that anyway."
"Um. Okay." Rodney scooted down till his mouth was even with Carson's cock.
Carson slipped a hand behind Rodney's head, supporting it as he used the other hand to direct himself into Rodney's mouth, shuddering and moaning as the wet heat enveloped him. "Oh, yes, love!" His fingers traced Rodney's face as he gazed down into his lover's eyes, open and intimate. "Are ye ready?"
Rodney nodded, tilting his head back just a bit, tongue already sliding along Carson's cock in delicious teasing motions.
At other times, Carson might have stayed still, let Rodney's tongue pleasure him, make his lover suck him till he came, but right now he wanted to fuck that crooked mouth, watch Rodney take his cock. He jerked back and pushed forward, feeling Rodney relax, submit, give himself up to Carson's pleasure. Rodney's throat opened up and Carson groaned as his cock head slid against Rodney's soft palette and into the tighter confines beyond.
Rodney's hands curled around Carson's hips, not directing, merely holding, squeezing slightly as Carson withdrew and plunged in again.
Carson took up a rhythm, not hard, but confident, as one thumb rubbed along the corner of Rodney's mouth, stretched around his cock. Watching Rodney just take him was heady and it wasn't long before he felt his balls beginning to draw up. He froze, fighting the urge to thrust, spinning the pleasure out. Rodney looked up, nothing but love and trust in his eyes and Carson's fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him forward as Carson's hips thrust, till Rodney's nose was pushed into the triangle of pubic hair. "Oh, God!" Carson gasped and throbbed into his lover's mouth, shuddering as Rodney swallowed around him.
He didn't know how long he knelt there, lost in the pleasure of Rodney's mouth, before he came back to himself. He relaxed his hold, petting through Rodney's hair. His lover wriggled back upward between his legs, till Carson was once again straddling Rodney's lap. He leaned down and kissed Rodney, tasting himself in his lover's mouth, humming in appreciation at the flavour.
"Can I return the favour, love?" he asked.
Rodney hummed and shook his head. "I'm going to wait till next time."
Rodney's hands palmed his arse and Carson grinned. "Oh, I think I like this plan..."
***
"Hey," Ronon said, stopping in the doorway to Sheppard's room and taking in the former military leader. Sheppard was sitting on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, head bowed, hands fisted in his hair.
Sheppard looked up and Ronon noted the dark circles under his eyes. "Hey, Ronon. I thought this area was off-limits."
Ronon shrugged. "It is for Earth personnel. Doesn't include Teyla or me."
Sheppard gave a smirk, though it seemed forced. "Loophole, eh? What's up?"
"You need to spar."
"I don't think I'm up to it right now."
Ronon crossed his arms. "You need to spar."
"Really, Ronon, I'm not in the mood."
Ronon lifted an eyebrow and stood, waiting.
"Really."
"Uhuh."
"Are you just going to stand there?" Sheppard demanded irritably after a few minutes.
"Yeah."
They waited. Finally, Sheppard sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll come spar. Happy?"
Ronon grinned, knowing it looked feral. "Sure. Come on."
***
Elizabeth wasn't sure what she'd been expecting-- perhaps a femme fatale with long nails and dead eyes, someone hard and cold-- but whatever it was, this was not it. The prisoner, one Marva Smin, was plump, with a round face and soft brown eyes, like someone's grandmother. There were dark circles under her eyes now and she looked at Elizabeth and Teyla warily.
Even Teyla seemed to hesitate upon seeing the woman. Her gaze flicked to Elizabeth, a slight lift of one eyebrow communicating her surprise.
"You are Marva Smin?" Teyla asked.
The woman smiled, not an evil smile at all. "Yes, I am."
"And you're a slave trader?" Elizabeth asked.
The woman nodded. "Yes. I handle all the negotiations and financial records for my sons. You had questions about the virus?"
Teyla and Elizabeth glanced at each other. "Yes," Teyla said. "What can you tell us about it?"
"Well, I don't deal with the actual virus. That's up to the Escans to do. They're very secretive. And expensive, but you can get four or more times the price for a pleasure slave that's been treated than for one that hasn't, so it's worth it."
"Have you ever seen these slaves that have this done to them?" Elizabeth demanded.
"Oh, no, dear. My sons don't like me dirtying my hands, so to speak. They're very protective."
"How very kind of them," Teyla said.
"Yes. They're good boys," Marva said, missing the undertone of sarcasm. "I can tell you that of the slaves we send to the Escans for treatment, about half take to the virus. The other half have negative reactions, try to fight it. Most of those die. The Escans are supposedly working on improving the take rate and reducing the fatalities."
"How many live?" Elizabeth asked.
"Of the ones where the virus doesn't take? Maybe five out of a hundred. Very few. The Escans pay good money for those that live, though."
"And you do not know how the virus works or what is involved in its introduction?"
"No. Like I say, the Escans are very secretive. I hear they hurt some friends of yours who tried to take some of it from them. I'm sorry to hear that."
"We are sorry as well. Thank you for your time."
"Anything I can do, dearie. Could you ask my captors for some food for me? I'm very hungry."
Teyla plastered on a smile. "I will see what we can do."
***
"And then the idiot sticks his field knife into the soil right next to the plant and starts digging. I couldn't help but ask him if he was completely unfamiliar with the concept of roots. It was just..." Christopher Parrish paused as Evan's eyes drooped closed. "I'm sorry, Maj-, er, Colonel. I should let you rest."
Evan's eyes popped open, wide, like a child trying to keep himself awake. "No-no. Chris, please, stay." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Keep talking."
"Colonel, you need to sleep."
"Don't wanna."
Parrish considered him. "Why ever not?"
Evan was silent till Parrish began to think he'd fallen asleep. Then, very quietly, he said, "'Fraid I won't wake up."
"Oh, Evan!" Parrish cast a quick glance out the door of Lorne's private infirmary room and then reached out and took the military man's hand. "I'm... I'm sorry it didn't work out."
Evan squeezed weakly. "Friends are impor--" His sentence was cut off by a gurgling sound as his body went rigid, hand clamping down hard.
"Shit!" Parrish gasped, trying to free himself as he yelled to the infirmary staff. "Help! He's having some sort of seizure!" Evan relaxed suddenly and he yanked his hand free before his friend and teammate's body spasmed again.
Doctor Cortes arrived, pushing him aside, looking grim. She began barking orders-- something about pheny-something-- and he stood there helplessly until a nurse caromed into him in her rush. "Liles, get him out of here!" she called to an orderly.
And then he was being shuffled out of the way. He stood for a moment in shock and then turned to look into the private room next to Evan's-- empty now, ruthlessly clean, no reminder of the Genii man who had lain there, who had died there, his body wracked with seizures.
"Oh, God!" He leaned against the wall and waited.
Next chapter