Title: Weariness in Doing (No Precious Time Series, 13/28)
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 "Men weary as much of not doing the things they want to do as of doing the things they do not want to do." - Eric Hoffer
Evan swam up to consciousness and the sudden, nearly-overwhelming sensory input-- pain, nausea, bright lights, loud beeps. He groaned and shut his eyes.
"Hey there," a voice said.
"Colonel Sheppard?" he asked, not opening his eyes.
"I'm retired, Lorne. I'm John now."
"And I'm dying here." He shuddered as he realised it was probably true.
"Actually, Biro was just commenting that it looked like you might recover. Quite burbly about it, too, though she seemed a little sad your brains weren't going to go 'splodey."
"'Splodey?"
"Simpson just lent the rescuees her DVDs of Invader Zim."
"Ah." Lorne laid there for a moment, then risked peeking again, cringing at the pain, though maybe it wasn't quite as bad. "So, you're serious? I'm getting better?"
"Seems like. Probably a good thing. Major Lewinson's about chewed his nails off and people are beginning to think there's a jinx on the CO position."
"Things like this never happened to General Hammond," Lorne muttered.
"Yeah, but how often did he go through the gate?"
"Point."
"I'd keep an eye out for Biro, though. She was looking at you like you were her next needlepoint project."
Lorne groaned.
"Okay, so I'm going to call Doctor Parrish and then get out of here."
"Doctor Parrish?"
"Yeah. I kind of ran him out of here earlier because he looked like he'd been camped here all week. Anything you want to tell me?" Sheppard stood as he asked the question.
"You can't ask that."
"Retired," Sheppard reminded him.
"Asshole, too."
"Guilty as charged." Sheppard leaned over him, a curious look on his face, and then Lorne let out a squeak of surprise as Sheppard's mouth covered his. He surprised himself by opening up and letting Sheppard's tongue slip in, shuddering at the sensation. And then the other man was pulling back, grinning. "Still want me to call Parrish?"
"God!" Lorne covered his face with his hands. "You can't do things like that in public."
"Sure I can. It's the only benefit of this virus-- no one expects me to behave."
"When I can get out of this bed, I am so kicking your ass."
"Good." Sheppard patted his arm. "Get better soon, Colonel."
Lorne lay, his face burning with embarrassment even while his body still tingled in reaction to the kiss. And, dear God, how could something so simple have made him feel so much better already?
***
Rodney sat holding Carson close, their bodies still joined, Carson's semen slicking their bellies. His hands slowly stroked down Carson's back as he just enjoyed the closeness. He'd never really understood the distinction some people made between 'having sex' and 'making love' until now. He and Carson had had a lot of sex lately but, ironically, they'd spent much less time making love. Even now in the moments after sex, when they once would have held on to each other, kissed, caressed, Carson hung limp, wrung out, simply waiting for the pain to fade. He realised how much he missed Carson's simple touch.
"Feels good," Carson murmured against his shoulder.
Rodney turned his head and kissed what he could reach-- Carson's temple in this case. "Love you."
Carson sat back enough to look at him properly and Rodney felt his soft cock slide from Carson's body at the motion. "You seem very pensive tonight, love."
"Mm." Rodney kissed him again, losing himself in the taste of Carson's mouth, the slide of tongue, the edge of teeth.
Eventually, Carson pulled back. "I take it ye don't want to talk about it, then."
"I... I don't want you to think I'm complaining."
Carson's brow furrowed. "What is it? If something's making you unhappy..."
"No! No, I'm not unhappy. I just..." Rodney tried to find the words. "You don't..." He stopped, remembering Kate's advice on communications with his underlings, which seemed applicable here. "It seems to me that you've stopped touching people as much as you used to."
Carson considered for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose I have. It's hard. I keep having these urges to... do more than touch, so I've stopped touching as much."
"Yeah. You do a lot of the 'more than touch' with me," Rodney said, then regretted it.
Carson looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I... I just get so carried away with needing you, with having you here with me."
"I know, I just..." Rodney shook his head. "God! This is just like a conversation I had once with a girlfriend, only I'm her this time around."
Carson grinned at him. "Are ye accusing me of being you?"
"I hope not, because I was an idiot." He pulled Carson close, just holding him, and sighed as Carson's hands came up to trace lazy patterns on his skin.
They sat that way for a long time, then Carson said. "I've noticed it with the others, too. Not at first, of course, when their memories were gone and everyone was just another customer. But afterwards... They pile all over each other because they have permission, but they're very aloof with outsiders."
"Yeah?" He hadn't really thought about it because his impressions of the former slaves were of how they draped themselves around one another and the time before their memories returned.
"Mmhm. John especially."
Rodney felt himself go tense. Ever since the incident with John, he couldn't hear the name or see the man without flashes of memory-- John's mouth around his cock, the little desperate moans John made as he sucked. He couldn't shake the memory. They'd stepped over a line and now he couldn't find the path back to the simple friendship they'd had before. There was a huge gulf between them now, filled with guilt and recriminations, memories and yearnings.
"What's wrong?" Carson asked.
Rodney looked away and shook his head.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought him up."
He sighed. "It's not that. I just... I don't know... how to..." He waved vaguely. "... get back to something normal with him."
"Ah." Carson took one of Rodney's hands and brought it to his lips to kiss the fingers. "Ye know avoiding him won't make anything better?"
"I know. I just... I don't know if I can... trust him, trust me..."
"You can, because you're aware of it, love. And I think he needs us. He's so very alone."
Rodney frowned. "He's got all the former slaves."
Carson shook his head. "They aren't his friends. They aren't his family."
"What can we do?" Rodney asked.
"Just be friends to him, do the things we used to do."
"And it'll get better?"
"Eventually," Carson answered.
Rodney nodded, pulling him close. Neither one of them mentioned that with John's resignation, "eventually" might never come.
***
"Where's Carson?" Veza asked as she settled onto the exam table.
"Doctor Beckett is on medical leave until we have a better handle on this virus," Biro answered.
Veza gave her a confused look. "But he knows about me..."
"He kept notes," Brio answered, patting her hand. "Colonel Sheppard, I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside."
"Sure," John answered. "I'll be just outside the door," he assured Veza.
She hadn't wanted to come to her appointment alone. As the days dragged on, the rescuees got more and more anxious and many had withdrawn to the confines of their area. John frequently found himself serving as babysitter, bodyguard and moral support.
He headed out to the waiting area, slumped into a chair, and rested his head on a hand. What seemed the very next moment, he was being shaken. He blinked awake and looked into Veza's face, blotched with tears. His stomach dropped.
"What happened?" he asked.
"That woman... That woman made me listen."
"Listen?" he asked in confusion.
"To the heartbeat. I heard its heartbeat. But there still isn't any hope. Why would she do that?" Tears were flooding her eyes again.
John rose, slipping his arms around her. "She didn't mean it to hurt you."
"I don't like her. I want Carson!"
"Yeah," he nodded. "A lot of people want Carson."
There was a clatter from inside the infirmary, then Biro and a team were dashing out with a gurney. One of the med techs paused. "You might want to come along, Colonel. It's one of the rescuees."
John followed, his gut clenching in fear, wondering who it would be this time.
***
Lorne moaned as a hand petted through his hair. He opened his eyes to see Parrish there. "Chris, you can't," he rasped. Now that the headache had faded, he was left with something more akin to a nasty flu, which included a sore throat.
"The door's shut, Evan," Christopher said. "And everyone's busy with an emergency."
"What happened?"
"One of the rescuees."
"Another suicide?"
Christopher shrugged. "I don't know. Colonel Sheppard looked pretty devastated, though. He's not handling all this very well, I don't think."
Lorne nodded. "That's got to suck."
Christopher leaned back, fingers interlacing with Evan's. "So, did they give you any idea when you would be out of here?"
"Probably release me tomorrow to bed rest at home. Biro said it would probably be another week before I'd be over this. And then they run a bunch of tests to make sure there's no brain damage they missed."
"Oh." Christopher's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Yeah. She's theorising that more people survive this than the Genii's prisoner said, but the slave dealers can't sell the slaves afterwards, so..." He made a slicing motion across his throat.
"God, that's horrible!"
Lorne nodded. "I'm thinking a couple of tactical nukes wouldn't be missed, right?"
"You're only allowed one fatal mission a year."
Lorne grinned, but he knew Christopher meant it. The last time he'd been presumed dead, though it had only been a short time, it had finally hit Christopher what DADT meant for him. Their relationship had never quite recovered. But with this scare, Christopher had reversed himself. It was the only good thing to come out of this. "I promise to try my hardest not to die on you anytime soon."
Christopher raised Lorne's hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. "I'll hold you to it."
***
"Colonel Sheppard? He's awake," Biro said. "He's going to be okay."
John let go of Veza's hand and stood. "Has he told you what happened?"
Biro shook her head. "Doctor Heightmeyer's already been called, but she thought if you could talk to him?"
John nodded. "Yeah. Sure." He turned to Veza. "Did you want to wait or go on home?"
"I'll go home and tell the others," she answered.
"Good idea. I'll be back in a bit." He turned and walked into the infirmary, heading to the private room Biro pointed him to. He stepped into the room, taking in the man lying in the bed, arm flung across his face. "Hey," John said.
Ri tensed and moved his arm, giving John an apologetic look. "Hi."
"How are you feeling?"
"Horrible. My throat hurts. And it's also been a couple of hours."
John nodded. "We can maybe take care of that in a minute, but I want you to answer a question first. Did you know when you took so many pain pills at once that it could kill you?"
Ri looked away from him, mouth drawn into a thin line, but didn't answer.
"I'll take that as a yes, then," John said, sighing and running his hands through his hair. "God, Ri, what were you thinking? Did you really want to die?"
Ri shuddered, a sob escaping him. "I just... I just didn't want to be in pain anymore."
John sat on the bed and curled a hand around Ri's arm. "Colonel Lorne is beating this thing. That means Carson and the others will have a cure soon. We just have to hold out."
Ri stared at the ceiling, his face bereft of any emotion. "And what if 'soon' never comes?"
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