Fic: Thoroughly Worth Living (No Precious Time Series, 16/28)
Title: Thoroughly Worth Living (No Precious Time Series, 16/28)
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
"Suicide was against the law. Johnny had wondered why. It meant that if you missed, or the gas ran out, or the rope broke, you could get locked up in prison to show you that life was really very jolly and thoroughly worth living." - Terry Pratchett
He hadn't known what to tell Rodney, wasn't sure whether the John he'd seen was the product of his mind in the midst of passion or whether he'd really been there, watching. Carson wasn't sure which possibility frightened him more.
And so he'd remained silent, kissed Rodney goodbye and headed toward his lab and a mountain of viral DNA sequencing.
Now he sat, staring at the wall when he should have been working, thinking about John, thinking about why the presence-- or thought of the presence-- of John aroused him so greatly. And it wasn't just the thought of John watching him. No, he'd liked the idea of John seeing Rodney laid out like a feast, sensual beyond words.
He glanced up as Biro walked in.
"It's Colonel Sheppard," she said.
***
"What do you mean 'The door won't unlock'? It's not that complicated, Sergeant," Rodney snapped, striding down the hall to Radek's lab.
"It doesn't respond to my security overrides," Stackhouse reported over the radio.
"All right, I'm coming, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe Colonel Sheppard just wanted to be left-- Radek? Oh, my God! What happened?!"
***
"Are you sure, Sergeant?" Heightmeyer asked, casting a worried glance at the security detail trying to get the firing range door open.
"Well, no. Of course not. You can only sort of see silhouettes, you know, but that's sure what it looked like to me."
"But there was no gunshot?" Carson asked, at once glad to be included and terrified of what had happened.
"Not till after he hit the ground, no."
"We're here!" Rodney called. "Move!"
Carson looked up to see Rodney and Radek hurrying toward the door. Radek looked pale and his eyes strangely puffy and red. He flinched when Rodney reached out toward him. Rodney being Rodney didn't notice and merely pulled the man along.
Carson walked over. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah," Rodney answered, hooking wires to the various crystals in the door mechanism. "When I tell you to, think 'unlock' at it."
It was a long and tense 5 minutes as Carson and the two scientists worked to get the door open, but finally Rodney let out a triumphant 'Aha!' and it unlocked with a click.
Carson was the first one through the door. The room smelled of gunpowder and urine. John was collapsed in a heap on the floor, the dark stain on his sweats explaining where the urine smell originated. A pistol lay a few inches from his hand.
Carson dropped beside him, doing a quick visual survey, noting the rise and fall of his chest, before reaching out to turn John over. He breathed a sigh of relief. "No gunshot."
But his eagle eye spotted the dark residue on one temple and his blood ran cold.
Biro and Heightmeyer knelt beside him. Kate immediately touched the place on his temple and sniffed her finger, her eyes going grave, but Carson was too busy going over other things with Biro.
"Pulse a little fast."
"Pupil dilation normal."
"Bruising on his left arm consistent with being struck against that table leg."
"Oh! He's bitten his tongue. At least twice, from the looks of it."
Carson nodded. "Reflexes and muscle flaccidity in keeping with a seizure."
"He had a seizure?" Rodney asked.
"We can't verify that till we run some tests," Biro answered, "but it seems likely."
"So he had a seizure which stopped him from shooting himself?" Stackhouse asked.
Rodney and Radek both yelped, "What?" at the same time.
"We don't know that he was trying to kill himself," Carson snapped. "And I'd best not be hearing that rumour being passed around."
"Of course not, sir," Stackhouse answered, shifting nervously.
"Excuse me," Radek said quietly and hurried out of the room.
Carson shot Rodney a questioning glance, but his lover merely shrugged.
"All right," Biro said, standing. "Let's get that gurney in here and get him to the infirmary."
Carson stood back and let the medical team do its job. Rodney stepped beside him and quietly took hold of his elbow. Carson turned toward him and Rodney whispered into his ear. "Did you see the, um... at his temple?"
Carson gave one brief, tense nod. Whatever had happened here, one thing was almost certain-- John Sheppard had put a gun to his head.
"First rule of gun safety," John had said the first time Carson had gone to train with the things, "never point at anything you don't intend to shoot. Ever. Even if you're sure the gun is empty."
***
Carson sat with Rodney and Stackhouse in the small area set up as a waiting room. It was likely no one would have complained if he'd gone in, but Rodney was looking pretty shaken. Carson gently took Rodney's hand. "He'll be all right, love."
"But why did he have a seizure? I don't understand."
Carson shook his head. "Like as not, the virus or the pain from it. You have to remember all the rescuees were drugged into oblivion when you found them... and pretty much guaranteed a steady supply of sex and not much else to do with their time. We've freed them, yes, but it means more pain, more stress. As time goes on, I expect we'll see more of this."
"So that it was him was just, what? Luck of the draw?"
"It could be. On the other hand, out of all of the rescuees, he's the one most likely to put off gratification, to push the envelope, both because of who he is and because he's spending more time in situations where he can't just grab a handy partner and go to it."
Rodney nodded.
An oppressive silence fell over the room. Stackhouse stood and started pacing. On his fourth trip across the room, he paused suddenly. "Shouldn't Doctor Zelenka be here?"
Carson and Rodney exchanged surprised glances. "Um. Why?" Rodney asked.
"Oh. Well... I mean... I kinda thought they were together, you know?" Stackhouse said.
"What makes ye think that?"
Stackhouse's cheeks turned pink. "I, um, sort of overheard them arguing."
"I see," Carson said.
Rodney shifted uncomfortably. "I think they may have had a fight... or something."
Carson glanced over at his lover curiously, but remembered the way Radek had looked when he'd arrived to work on the lock.
"Oh." Stackhouse paced some more. "Still, I'd think he'd forget that, you know, under the circumstances..."
Rodney gave an annoyed huff. "Look. We don't know why he isn't here. If you really want to know, why don't you call Doctor Zelenka and ask?"
Stackhouse looked sheepish. "Sorry. I just..." He shook his head. "I'm just trying to get that image out of my head, you know? I walked up to the door and you can kinda see through the stained glass a bit, you know, and there he was..."
"And you couldn't do anything," Carson said quietly.
Stackhouse nodded. "I shouldn't have left him alone."
"No kidding."
"Rodney!"
"What? 'Gee, he's acting kind of strange. I think I'll leave the suicidal man alone in a room full of guns,' strikes you as clear thinking?"
"Shut up, Rodney. There's no need for recriminations."
"How is he?" a breathless voice demanded. The three men looked up to see Elizabeth walking in.
"He was just stirring as he was being brought in," Carson answered. He didn't mention what John had said.
"This seizure... was it because of the virus?"
"We can't know for sure," Carson answered, "but there are no seizure disorders in his medical records, so the chances are good it was."
"Could it happen again?"
Carson nodded. "If it's related to the virus, it could certainly happen again. To any of the rescuees."
"How serious are we talking here?"
Carson was silent a moment, then sighed. "Oftentimes with a grand mal seizure, the victim stops breathing. There are other stresses on the body as well. It could... it could be deadly."
***
Radek sat staring at his screen, the image from the security feed frozen there. John's face was twisted into a mockery of laughter, even as tears glimmered from his eyes. He held a gun to his head.
Radek shivered.
And then he carefully tracked the video back, marked a spot, and then followed it forward, tagging another spot. He copied what lay between and then removed it from the record. John didn't need it getting around.
Radek sent emails to Rodney, Stackhouse, and the doctors who had been on the scene, informing them he had a copy if they needed it for review.
He carefully closed the files and opened up his latest research project. But the image of John's mouth forming the word 'bang', the memory of that mouth pressed to his, the taste of John's tongue, the heat of his breath against Radek's ear as he begged, froze Radek in place, just staring vacantly at the screen.
***
They all looked up as Biro entered. "How is he?" Elizabeth asked.
"He's still recovering from the seizure," Biro explained. "We're keeping him here for observation overnight to make sure this isn't a symptom of something more serious." She glanced at the door and then drew closer to them. "I ran a residue check and, as we all suspected, that was gunpowder residue on his temple. Given there were traces of his sweat on the end of the barrel of the handgun, it's pretty clear it got there by his pressing it to his temple after he'd fired it several times. There was gunpowder residue overlaying the sweat on the gun as well."
Stackhouse nodded. "It went off when he went down."
"You mean there was a live round when he put the thing to his head? He could have shot himself?" Rodney felt like the world was spinning suddenly.
Biro nodded, looking far too cheery for the situation. "While the clip was empty, there was one round in the chamber. A lot of people make the mistake of thinking an empty clip is an empty gun. Quite a few accidental shootings occur because of it. However, given the Colonel's training, he would know better. No, if he'd shot himself, I certainly couldn't have ruled it accidental in good conscience."
"Then it's fortunate you didn't have to, now isn't it?" Rodney snapped, images of Brendan Gall flashing through his mind. How close he had been to seeing that again... He shuddered.
"Can we see him?" Carson asked.
Biro hesitated. "He's very tired still, but I think, under the circumstances, seeing a few friendly faces might help. But only one or two at a time and only for a few minutes."
Carson looked at Elizabeth and Stackhouse questioningly.
"You two go first," Elizabeth said, indicating Carson and Rodney. "I'll go in after the sergeant."
"Thank you, Elizabeth," Carson said, and took Rodney's hand as they followed Biro into the infirmary and to the private room where John was.
Biro stuck her head into the room. "You have visitors, Colonel."
"John. Just John."
"Of course," Biro said and then nodded to Carson and Rodney. "Five minutes. He needs to rest."
John was dressed in maroon scrubs when they walked in, which only seemed to highlight how pale he was. Rodney wasn't used to thinking of John as frail, but as he looked at the man, he noted the dark circles under his eyes and an emptiness within them that frightened him. "Hey," John greeted, watching them warily.
Carson squeezed Rodney's hand briefly, then let go to sit in one of the chairs next to the bed, giving John's shoulder a comforting pat. "How are you feeling?"
Sheppard looked away. "Fine."
"Fine?" Rodney demanded. "You were holding a gun to your head! You have a seizure and when you come to you say, 'Did I pull the trigger? I didn't think I could,' and all you can say is you're fine?"
"Rodney!" Carson chided.
"What? I'm supposed to ignore the elephant in the room and pretend that 'Fine' is a fair answer?"
Sheppard's eyes flashed fire. "What I do with my life is none of your damned business, Rodney."
"John, you--" Carson started, but Rodney interrupted.
"Right. Because it's not like we're friends or anything. It's not like I have any problems with seeing someone's brains splattered all over the walls. No! Not at all. It's not like we feel like crap because--"
"Crap?! You think you feel like crap? You have no idea. Just shut the fuck up!"
Rodney's rant died on his lips. He'd seen how desperate Carson got just to have the pain go away for a short while. Hell, he'd seen how desperate John could get. But Carson had Rodney. And Carson hadn't spent two months doing God knows what with anyone with enough money to pay for it. Carson hadn't resigned from his job or had two friends commit suicide and another one attempt it in a few short weeks. Rodney found the other chair and sat down heavily. "Sorry."
John looked away, flung an arm over his eyes. "It's okay. Just... I'm really tired. Okay?"
And that was more of an admission than John usually gave. "Okay."
Carson squeezed John's shoulder again. "John, I know this seems like an impossible situation right now, but you need to hold on. We'll do what we can for you. You know that."
"Right," John said, voice full of bitterness and pain. "Everyone will do what they can." He sighed and moved his arm away from his face. "Would it help if I said I was stupid and it won't happen again? Can we just..." He shrugged. "... forget it ever happened?"
Rodney snorted.
Carson shot him a warning glance. "We'll try, John. All right?"
"Good." The room fell into a heavy silence. Finally, John shifted uncomfortably. "Hey, could you call Veza or Ri for me? They took my headset."
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
"Suicide was against the law. Johnny had wondered why. It meant that if you missed, or the gas ran out, or the rope broke, you could get locked up in prison to show you that life was really very jolly and thoroughly worth living." - Terry Pratchett
He hadn't known what to tell Rodney, wasn't sure whether the John he'd seen was the product of his mind in the midst of passion or whether he'd really been there, watching. Carson wasn't sure which possibility frightened him more.
And so he'd remained silent, kissed Rodney goodbye and headed toward his lab and a mountain of viral DNA sequencing.
Now he sat, staring at the wall when he should have been working, thinking about John, thinking about why the presence-- or thought of the presence-- of John aroused him so greatly. And it wasn't just the thought of John watching him. No, he'd liked the idea of John seeing Rodney laid out like a feast, sensual beyond words.
He glanced up as Biro walked in.
"It's Colonel Sheppard," she said.
***
"What do you mean 'The door won't unlock'? It's not that complicated, Sergeant," Rodney snapped, striding down the hall to Radek's lab.
"It doesn't respond to my security overrides," Stackhouse reported over the radio.
"All right, I'm coming, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe Colonel Sheppard just wanted to be left-- Radek? Oh, my God! What happened?!"
***
"Are you sure, Sergeant?" Heightmeyer asked, casting a worried glance at the security detail trying to get the firing range door open.
"Well, no. Of course not. You can only sort of see silhouettes, you know, but that's sure what it looked like to me."
"But there was no gunshot?" Carson asked, at once glad to be included and terrified of what had happened.
"Not till after he hit the ground, no."
"We're here!" Rodney called. "Move!"
Carson looked up to see Rodney and Radek hurrying toward the door. Radek looked pale and his eyes strangely puffy and red. He flinched when Rodney reached out toward him. Rodney being Rodney didn't notice and merely pulled the man along.
Carson walked over. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah," Rodney answered, hooking wires to the various crystals in the door mechanism. "When I tell you to, think 'unlock' at it."
It was a long and tense 5 minutes as Carson and the two scientists worked to get the door open, but finally Rodney let out a triumphant 'Aha!' and it unlocked with a click.
Carson was the first one through the door. The room smelled of gunpowder and urine. John was collapsed in a heap on the floor, the dark stain on his sweats explaining where the urine smell originated. A pistol lay a few inches from his hand.
Carson dropped beside him, doing a quick visual survey, noting the rise and fall of his chest, before reaching out to turn John over. He breathed a sigh of relief. "No gunshot."
But his eagle eye spotted the dark residue on one temple and his blood ran cold.
Biro and Heightmeyer knelt beside him. Kate immediately touched the place on his temple and sniffed her finger, her eyes going grave, but Carson was too busy going over other things with Biro.
"Pulse a little fast."
"Pupil dilation normal."
"Bruising on his left arm consistent with being struck against that table leg."
"Oh! He's bitten his tongue. At least twice, from the looks of it."
Carson nodded. "Reflexes and muscle flaccidity in keeping with a seizure."
"He had a seizure?" Rodney asked.
"We can't verify that till we run some tests," Biro answered, "but it seems likely."
"So he had a seizure which stopped him from shooting himself?" Stackhouse asked.
Rodney and Radek both yelped, "What?" at the same time.
"We don't know that he was trying to kill himself," Carson snapped. "And I'd best not be hearing that rumour being passed around."
"Of course not, sir," Stackhouse answered, shifting nervously.
"Excuse me," Radek said quietly and hurried out of the room.
Carson shot Rodney a questioning glance, but his lover merely shrugged.
"All right," Biro said, standing. "Let's get that gurney in here and get him to the infirmary."
Carson stood back and let the medical team do its job. Rodney stepped beside him and quietly took hold of his elbow. Carson turned toward him and Rodney whispered into his ear. "Did you see the, um... at his temple?"
Carson gave one brief, tense nod. Whatever had happened here, one thing was almost certain-- John Sheppard had put a gun to his head.
"First rule of gun safety," John had said the first time Carson had gone to train with the things, "never point at anything you don't intend to shoot. Ever. Even if you're sure the gun is empty."
***
Carson sat with Rodney and Stackhouse in the small area set up as a waiting room. It was likely no one would have complained if he'd gone in, but Rodney was looking pretty shaken. Carson gently took Rodney's hand. "He'll be all right, love."
"But why did he have a seizure? I don't understand."
Carson shook his head. "Like as not, the virus or the pain from it. You have to remember all the rescuees were drugged into oblivion when you found them... and pretty much guaranteed a steady supply of sex and not much else to do with their time. We've freed them, yes, but it means more pain, more stress. As time goes on, I expect we'll see more of this."
"So that it was him was just, what? Luck of the draw?"
"It could be. On the other hand, out of all of the rescuees, he's the one most likely to put off gratification, to push the envelope, both because of who he is and because he's spending more time in situations where he can't just grab a handy partner and go to it."
Rodney nodded.
An oppressive silence fell over the room. Stackhouse stood and started pacing. On his fourth trip across the room, he paused suddenly. "Shouldn't Doctor Zelenka be here?"
Carson and Rodney exchanged surprised glances. "Um. Why?" Rodney asked.
"Oh. Well... I mean... I kinda thought they were together, you know?" Stackhouse said.
"What makes ye think that?"
Stackhouse's cheeks turned pink. "I, um, sort of overheard them arguing."
"I see," Carson said.
Rodney shifted uncomfortably. "I think they may have had a fight... or something."
Carson glanced over at his lover curiously, but remembered the way Radek had looked when he'd arrived to work on the lock.
"Oh." Stackhouse paced some more. "Still, I'd think he'd forget that, you know, under the circumstances..."
Rodney gave an annoyed huff. "Look. We don't know why he isn't here. If you really want to know, why don't you call Doctor Zelenka and ask?"
Stackhouse looked sheepish. "Sorry. I just..." He shook his head. "I'm just trying to get that image out of my head, you know? I walked up to the door and you can kinda see through the stained glass a bit, you know, and there he was..."
"And you couldn't do anything," Carson said quietly.
Stackhouse nodded. "I shouldn't have left him alone."
"No kidding."
"Rodney!"
"What? 'Gee, he's acting kind of strange. I think I'll leave the suicidal man alone in a room full of guns,' strikes you as clear thinking?"
"Shut up, Rodney. There's no need for recriminations."
"How is he?" a breathless voice demanded. The three men looked up to see Elizabeth walking in.
"He was just stirring as he was being brought in," Carson answered. He didn't mention what John had said.
"This seizure... was it because of the virus?"
"We can't know for sure," Carson answered, "but there are no seizure disorders in his medical records, so the chances are good it was."
"Could it happen again?"
Carson nodded. "If it's related to the virus, it could certainly happen again. To any of the rescuees."
"How serious are we talking here?"
Carson was silent a moment, then sighed. "Oftentimes with a grand mal seizure, the victim stops breathing. There are other stresses on the body as well. It could... it could be deadly."
***
Radek sat staring at his screen, the image from the security feed frozen there. John's face was twisted into a mockery of laughter, even as tears glimmered from his eyes. He held a gun to his head.
Radek shivered.
And then he carefully tracked the video back, marked a spot, and then followed it forward, tagging another spot. He copied what lay between and then removed it from the record. John didn't need it getting around.
Radek sent emails to Rodney, Stackhouse, and the doctors who had been on the scene, informing them he had a copy if they needed it for review.
He carefully closed the files and opened up his latest research project. But the image of John's mouth forming the word 'bang', the memory of that mouth pressed to his, the taste of John's tongue, the heat of his breath against Radek's ear as he begged, froze Radek in place, just staring vacantly at the screen.
***
They all looked up as Biro entered. "How is he?" Elizabeth asked.
"He's still recovering from the seizure," Biro explained. "We're keeping him here for observation overnight to make sure this isn't a symptom of something more serious." She glanced at the door and then drew closer to them. "I ran a residue check and, as we all suspected, that was gunpowder residue on his temple. Given there were traces of his sweat on the end of the barrel of the handgun, it's pretty clear it got there by his pressing it to his temple after he'd fired it several times. There was gunpowder residue overlaying the sweat on the gun as well."
Stackhouse nodded. "It went off when he went down."
"You mean there was a live round when he put the thing to his head? He could have shot himself?" Rodney felt like the world was spinning suddenly.
Biro nodded, looking far too cheery for the situation. "While the clip was empty, there was one round in the chamber. A lot of people make the mistake of thinking an empty clip is an empty gun. Quite a few accidental shootings occur because of it. However, given the Colonel's training, he would know better. No, if he'd shot himself, I certainly couldn't have ruled it accidental in good conscience."
"Then it's fortunate you didn't have to, now isn't it?" Rodney snapped, images of Brendan Gall flashing through his mind. How close he had been to seeing that again... He shuddered.
"Can we see him?" Carson asked.
Biro hesitated. "He's very tired still, but I think, under the circumstances, seeing a few friendly faces might help. But only one or two at a time and only for a few minutes."
Carson looked at Elizabeth and Stackhouse questioningly.
"You two go first," Elizabeth said, indicating Carson and Rodney. "I'll go in after the sergeant."
"Thank you, Elizabeth," Carson said, and took Rodney's hand as they followed Biro into the infirmary and to the private room where John was.
Biro stuck her head into the room. "You have visitors, Colonel."
"John. Just John."
"Of course," Biro said and then nodded to Carson and Rodney. "Five minutes. He needs to rest."
John was dressed in maroon scrubs when they walked in, which only seemed to highlight how pale he was. Rodney wasn't used to thinking of John as frail, but as he looked at the man, he noted the dark circles under his eyes and an emptiness within them that frightened him. "Hey," John greeted, watching them warily.
Carson squeezed Rodney's hand briefly, then let go to sit in one of the chairs next to the bed, giving John's shoulder a comforting pat. "How are you feeling?"
Sheppard looked away. "Fine."
"Fine?" Rodney demanded. "You were holding a gun to your head! You have a seizure and when you come to you say, 'Did I pull the trigger? I didn't think I could,' and all you can say is you're fine?"
"Rodney!" Carson chided.
"What? I'm supposed to ignore the elephant in the room and pretend that 'Fine' is a fair answer?"
Sheppard's eyes flashed fire. "What I do with my life is none of your damned business, Rodney."
"John, you--" Carson started, but Rodney interrupted.
"Right. Because it's not like we're friends or anything. It's not like I have any problems with seeing someone's brains splattered all over the walls. No! Not at all. It's not like we feel like crap because--"
"Crap?! You think you feel like crap? You have no idea. Just shut the fuck up!"
Rodney's rant died on his lips. He'd seen how desperate Carson got just to have the pain go away for a short while. Hell, he'd seen how desperate John could get. But Carson had Rodney. And Carson hadn't spent two months doing God knows what with anyone with enough money to pay for it. Carson hadn't resigned from his job or had two friends commit suicide and another one attempt it in a few short weeks. Rodney found the other chair and sat down heavily. "Sorry."
John looked away, flung an arm over his eyes. "It's okay. Just... I'm really tired. Okay?"
And that was more of an admission than John usually gave. "Okay."
Carson squeezed John's shoulder again. "John, I know this seems like an impossible situation right now, but you need to hold on. We'll do what we can for you. You know that."
"Right," John said, voice full of bitterness and pain. "Everyone will do what they can." He sighed and moved his arm away from his face. "Would it help if I said I was stupid and it won't happen again? Can we just..." He shrugged. "... forget it ever happened?"
Rodney snorted.
Carson shot him a warning glance. "We'll try, John. All right?"
"Good." The room fell into a heavy silence. Finally, John shifted uncomfortably. "Hey, could you call Veza or Ri for me? They took my headset."
Next chapter