Carson Beckett Requestathon -> for demon_faith
I made a story and two wallpapers.
Requests:
Preferred Partner (or group): Rodney!
Secondary Partner (or group): Uh...more Rodney? *g* Give me an original character - I just can't see him with anyone else on Atlantis.
Genre (dark, humour, etc): Angst, Hurt/Comfort. But there must be comfort - I'm a sucker for the comfort!
Two prompts (single words): cold, afraid
Two things you DO NOT want: mpreg, character death
Title: Cold and Afraid
Rating: PG (or whatever you want to call it nowadays)
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, slash
Summary: In another Siege situation with the Wraith and the Genii Carson is fighting on a different front then the others.
Notes: Read over by lovely sorgenmond. Thanks for all the help, luv!
Notes II: I thought I could write about 3000 words about this but then... I already had one wallpaper and so I made a second one and I hope it's okay that way!
Words: 1.124
There was nothing but fear, ice-cold, thought-burning fear.
He was afraid of himself, his power, his helplessness. There was no way out.
He could destroy them. He could destroy them all with one single thought.
The invading Genii, the attacking Wraith. He killed them one by one by merely thinking about them.
He was afraid, afraid of his friends dying. And he was angry, just like Atlantis.
She was angry and fought like a wounded animal, fierce with nothing to lose.
Carson just sat there and pointed the targets to her.
He had realized the shields she had brought up around the room, her last defence.
She defended him because she needed him. She needed his help with pointing the targets, for she could only recognize but not discern them, and she needed his anger.
Fear bears anger and hate, thus Carson was perfect. They were fighting hand in hand.
Another Wraith dart picked from the sky, another Genii troop electrocuted in the hallways.
They bloody deserved what they got!
They had hurt Carson’s friends. Weir was badly injured and Carson didn’t know if Zelenka would survive the critical state he had been in when the Scot had had to leave.
Beckett had heard Atlantis calling him. And so while the others had hurriedly left, Carson had fought his way to the room with the control chair.
And for the first time in his life he wasn’t afraid of the thing. He had nothing to lose anyway!
For a moment Beckett thought about McKay and wanted to know about him. But he suppressed the thought quickly. He didn’t want to see a picture of his dead lover.
The uncertainty killed him, but the knowledge of Rodney’s death would tear his insides apart. For now slowly dying was better. He just had to live long enough to defend his friends.
While his eyes mechanically scanned the screen, discerning friendly life signs from the enemies’, his mind wandered off to happier places and times.
He thought of the first time he had seen Rodney and barely noticed the sharp tongue and the arrogant behaviour. He’d seen straight into Rodney’s heart.
What a surprise it had been when he first ran into the walls around it.
But he had never thought about giving up. He had wanted more than the buddy fuck Rodney had offered him. He had wanted the man’s heart.
It had been weeks and weeks in which he had curse and cried, tried to sneak into Rodney’s life, doubted and despaired. But he had never given up.
Suddenly the cold in Carson erupted into a storm of ice and it felt like tiny, sharp crystals were mingling with his blood and tearing his veins and arteries while his fast-beating heart pumped them through his whole body.
A deep, howling scream came over his calloused lips, from the bottom of his broken heart.
He suddenly felt void where Rodney’s place was in his heart.
All the memories of their difficult times came back and haunted him.
Pictures of their arguments when they had screamed at each other. He felt so damn sorry for it now and he hated himself for it.
Another dart, another troop, more soldiers, a dart…
Carson’s hate was like oil on Atlantis’ fire. Her attacks grew fiercer, harder.
It was like she was avenging the loss Carson felt. Or perhaps she was only trying to protect Carson. He heard the faint screams and knew that the troops must be in close proximity now.
Searing pain crept through Carson’s veins, tears were running down his face and another cry escaped his throat.
He remembered kissing Rodney for the first time, the tentative first touch of lips and the insecure laughter afterwards. And the first real kiss - the slow, hot, brain-melting kiss.
And he remembered their first night together.
The way Rodney had smiled at him and snuggled close in the mornings when they could afford staying the whole night together.
He remembered laughing with Rodney, laughing together about meaningless things.
And he recalled Rodney’s snark, his complaining and how Carson had always had been able to see down to the core of the matter.
Carson couldn’t remember how long he had sat in the chair, if it had been merely minutes, hours, days or weeks. And he didn’t care.
He felt his heart beating but he also felt so cold, so alone, so empty and so afraid.
What should he do when this was over? What if they won?
Carson already had lost. He had lost everything he wanted and needed.
He didn’t want to return to an empty quarter. All he had left was the pain and the anger and his memories.
The certainty of Rodney’s death wasn’t suffocating him immediately, like he had thought earlier. Everything was slowly bleeding out of him, replaced by agony.
Every memory would hurt him.
Nothing would matter anymore because all that had mattered had been Rodney.
Carson didn’t realize that the noise was fading and the spots on the screen became less and less. He didn’t even realize that he was only sitting there and staring at the screen, cleaned from all enemy life signs.
But then his head shoot up and he saw Rodney standing there.
“Rodney…” whispered Carson, new tears running over his already wet cheeks. “Oh Rodney, how could you leave me?”
Meanwhile Rodney didn’t understand a word of what Carson whispered. He blamed the damn shield around Carson and the chair for it. But - dear god - Carson looked like shit!
“CARSON! Carson, drop the shield, it’s over! I’m here, I’m alive, we’ve won! You won!”
Carson did so, still staring at Rodney. The fight had left its marks upon him but he was relatively unharmed. The Scot fell out of the chair, just caught in time by Rodney.
“You’re alive… I thought you’ve died… I thought I had felt you die…”
Rodney shushed and petted Carson’s head. “Don’t talk, you’re too exhausted! It’s been hours and hours you’ve sat in here! You need some rest!”
Carson just nodded and tangled his fingers in Rodney’s shirt. They were alive. He himself felt not so much alive now, but Rodney was there, with him.
“Colonel! Come over, I need your help with Carson!” shouted Rodney. Sheppard came over, pain and fatigue on his face, a bitter smile on his lips when he saw the rejoined lovers.
“Just give me a minute!” whispered Carson and buried his face against Rodney’s neck. Hot tears welled from his eyes, burning their way across his skin and vanishing somewhere at his collar. “I love you,” he moaned silently. “I’d have died with you…”
“We’ll be okay!” answered Rodney as silently as Carson. “It’s over, for now!”
~Críoch~
Requests:
Preferred Partner (or group): Rodney!
Secondary Partner (or group): Uh...more Rodney? *g* Give me an original character - I just can't see him with anyone else on Atlantis.
Genre (dark, humour, etc): Angst, Hurt/Comfort. But there must be comfort - I'm a sucker for the comfort!
Two prompts (single words): cold, afraid
Two things you DO NOT want: mpreg, character death
Title: Cold and Afraid
Rating: PG (or whatever you want to call it nowadays)
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, slash
Summary: In another Siege situation with the Wraith and the Genii Carson is fighting on a different front then the others.
Notes: Read over by lovely sorgenmond. Thanks for all the help, luv!
Notes II: I thought I could write about 3000 words about this but then... I already had one wallpaper and so I made a second one and I hope it's okay that way!
Words: 1.124
There was nothing but fear, ice-cold, thought-burning fear.
He was afraid of himself, his power, his helplessness. There was no way out.
He could destroy them. He could destroy them all with one single thought.
The invading Genii, the attacking Wraith. He killed them one by one by merely thinking about them.
He was afraid, afraid of his friends dying. And he was angry, just like Atlantis.
She was angry and fought like a wounded animal, fierce with nothing to lose.
Carson just sat there and pointed the targets to her.
He had realized the shields she had brought up around the room, her last defence.
She defended him because she needed him. She needed his help with pointing the targets, for she could only recognize but not discern them, and she needed his anger.
Fear bears anger and hate, thus Carson was perfect. They were fighting hand in hand.
Another Wraith dart picked from the sky, another Genii troop electrocuted in the hallways.
They bloody deserved what they got!
They had hurt Carson’s friends. Weir was badly injured and Carson didn’t know if Zelenka would survive the critical state he had been in when the Scot had had to leave.
Beckett had heard Atlantis calling him. And so while the others had hurriedly left, Carson had fought his way to the room with the control chair.
And for the first time in his life he wasn’t afraid of the thing. He had nothing to lose anyway!
For a moment Beckett thought about McKay and wanted to know about him. But he suppressed the thought quickly. He didn’t want to see a picture of his dead lover.
The uncertainty killed him, but the knowledge of Rodney’s death would tear his insides apart. For now slowly dying was better. He just had to live long enough to defend his friends.
While his eyes mechanically scanned the screen, discerning friendly life signs from the enemies’, his mind wandered off to happier places and times.
He thought of the first time he had seen Rodney and barely noticed the sharp tongue and the arrogant behaviour. He’d seen straight into Rodney’s heart.
What a surprise it had been when he first ran into the walls around it.
But he had never thought about giving up. He had wanted more than the buddy fuck Rodney had offered him. He had wanted the man’s heart.
It had been weeks and weeks in which he had curse and cried, tried to sneak into Rodney’s life, doubted and despaired. But he had never given up.
Suddenly the cold in Carson erupted into a storm of ice and it felt like tiny, sharp crystals were mingling with his blood and tearing his veins and arteries while his fast-beating heart pumped them through his whole body.
A deep, howling scream came over his calloused lips, from the bottom of his broken heart.
He suddenly felt void where Rodney’s place was in his heart.
All the memories of their difficult times came back and haunted him.
Pictures of their arguments when they had screamed at each other. He felt so damn sorry for it now and he hated himself for it.
Another dart, another troop, more soldiers, a dart…
Carson’s hate was like oil on Atlantis’ fire. Her attacks grew fiercer, harder.
It was like she was avenging the loss Carson felt. Or perhaps she was only trying to protect Carson. He heard the faint screams and knew that the troops must be in close proximity now.
Searing pain crept through Carson’s veins, tears were running down his face and another cry escaped his throat.
He remembered kissing Rodney for the first time, the tentative first touch of lips and the insecure laughter afterwards. And the first real kiss - the slow, hot, brain-melting kiss.
And he remembered their first night together.
The way Rodney had smiled at him and snuggled close in the mornings when they could afford staying the whole night together.
He remembered laughing with Rodney, laughing together about meaningless things.
And he recalled Rodney’s snark, his complaining and how Carson had always had been able to see down to the core of the matter.
Carson couldn’t remember how long he had sat in the chair, if it had been merely minutes, hours, days or weeks. And he didn’t care.
He felt his heart beating but he also felt so cold, so alone, so empty and so afraid.
What should he do when this was over? What if they won?
Carson already had lost. He had lost everything he wanted and needed.
He didn’t want to return to an empty quarter. All he had left was the pain and the anger and his memories.
The certainty of Rodney’s death wasn’t suffocating him immediately, like he had thought earlier. Everything was slowly bleeding out of him, replaced by agony.
Every memory would hurt him.
Nothing would matter anymore because all that had mattered had been Rodney.
Carson didn’t realize that the noise was fading and the spots on the screen became less and less. He didn’t even realize that he was only sitting there and staring at the screen, cleaned from all enemy life signs.
But then his head shoot up and he saw Rodney standing there.
“Rodney…” whispered Carson, new tears running over his already wet cheeks. “Oh Rodney, how could you leave me?”
Meanwhile Rodney didn’t understand a word of what Carson whispered. He blamed the damn shield around Carson and the chair for it. But - dear god - Carson looked like shit!
“CARSON! Carson, drop the shield, it’s over! I’m here, I’m alive, we’ve won! You won!”
Carson did so, still staring at Rodney. The fight had left its marks upon him but he was relatively unharmed. The Scot fell out of the chair, just caught in time by Rodney.
“You’re alive… I thought you’ve died… I thought I had felt you die…”
Rodney shushed and petted Carson’s head. “Don’t talk, you’re too exhausted! It’s been hours and hours you’ve sat in here! You need some rest!”
Carson just nodded and tangled his fingers in Rodney’s shirt. They were alive. He himself felt not so much alive now, but Rodney was there, with him.
“Colonel! Come over, I need your help with Carson!” shouted Rodney. Sheppard came over, pain and fatigue on his face, a bitter smile on his lips when he saw the rejoined lovers.
“Just give me a minute!” whispered Carson and buried his face against Rodney’s neck. Hot tears welled from his eyes, burning their way across his skin and vanishing somewhere at his collar. “I love you,” he moaned silently. “I’d have died with you…”
“We’ll be okay!” answered Rodney as silently as Carson. “It’s over, for now!”
~Críoch~