new SGU ficlet: Far from home
Title: Far from home
Author: Shenandoah Risu
Rating: G
Content Flags: injuries
Spoilers: Season 2 "Common Descent" and "Epilogue"
Character: Everett Young, Tamara Johansen, Varro
Word Count: 425
Summary: He always had a focus: to come back home..
Author's Notes: Written for "Bouncing Inspiration", prompt #082 at sgu_challenge. The task was to use an existing story as a prompt for a new story. So this ficlet is based on this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with. ;-)
Thanks for reading! Feedback = Love. ;-)
Please leave comments here at my LJ if it's not too much trouble.
oOo
Far from home
They’re all tired and filthy, and he’s never been so sore in his whole life.
He’s had some pretty rough times in the Air Force; training scenarios that made him question whether he had made the right choice, because what he really wanted to do was fly, and yet the military saw it fit to have him wallow in dirt for months on end. Special Ops training was even worse but he was so proud of having been chosen that none of it really mattered. Then came the classified missions, imprisonment, torture and abuse, but he always had a focus: to come back home.
He wipes the sweat from his forehead and gets up again, cutting trees and dragging them into place to create shelters for his crew. And quietly, because nobody must ever know, he despairs over the sheer magnitude of the task, and he honestly doesn’t think he can do it, because this time they will definitely not go home, not ever.
He quickly pushes the thought out of his mind.
Looking up he sees TJ, carrying large tree branches off to where Varro is breaking them into smaller pieces for their campfires. He watches as they share a brief conversation and a laugh, and just as he’s feeling that tiny stab of jealousy in his heart again she turns and smiles at him, waving.
She’s caked with mud, a large smear of dirt across her face and forehead, and he just knows she’s the most beautiful human being in all of the universe. And suddenly he realizes how lucky he is, because as long as she’s near him he feels at home. He’ll never give up hope to get the others home - somehow, he has no idea how, but - just somehow.
But for him it doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter where in the world they are - if she’s there, he’s home. The realization hits him with such ferocity that he loses his footing and slips, and he hears her scream and wonders what happened long before he sees the ax embedded in his shin.
Shouts erupt all around him. Pain blossoms like an avalanche, and he barely notices Varro pulling the blade from his leg and helpful hands assisting him back to the camp.
It’s dark by the time they get back, and by then the shock has worn off and he feels an odd detachment from his injury. It hurts like hell for sure, but he knows he’ll be okay, because she’s there.
Because he’s home.
oOo
oOo
Thanks for reading! A comment or feedback would be much appreciated.
Author: Shenandoah Risu
Rating: G
Content Flags: injuries
Spoilers: Season 2 "Common Descent" and "Epilogue"
Character: Everett Young, Tamara Johansen, Varro
Word Count: 425
Summary: He always had a focus: to come back home..
Author's Notes: Written for "Bouncing Inspiration", prompt #082 at sgu_challenge. The task was to use an existing story as a prompt for a new story. So this ficlet is based on this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with. ;-)
Thanks for reading! Feedback = Love. ;-)
Please leave comments here at my LJ if it's not too much trouble.
oOo
Far from home
They’re all tired and filthy, and he’s never been so sore in his whole life.
He’s had some pretty rough times in the Air Force; training scenarios that made him question whether he had made the right choice, because what he really wanted to do was fly, and yet the military saw it fit to have him wallow in dirt for months on end. Special Ops training was even worse but he was so proud of having been chosen that none of it really mattered. Then came the classified missions, imprisonment, torture and abuse, but he always had a focus: to come back home.
He wipes the sweat from his forehead and gets up again, cutting trees and dragging them into place to create shelters for his crew. And quietly, because nobody must ever know, he despairs over the sheer magnitude of the task, and he honestly doesn’t think he can do it, because this time they will definitely not go home, not ever.
He quickly pushes the thought out of his mind.
Looking up he sees TJ, carrying large tree branches off to where Varro is breaking them into smaller pieces for their campfires. He watches as they share a brief conversation and a laugh, and just as he’s feeling that tiny stab of jealousy in his heart again she turns and smiles at him, waving.
She’s caked with mud, a large smear of dirt across her face and forehead, and he just knows she’s the most beautiful human being in all of the universe. And suddenly he realizes how lucky he is, because as long as she’s near him he feels at home. He’ll never give up hope to get the others home - somehow, he has no idea how, but - just somehow.
But for him it doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter where in the world they are - if she’s there, he’s home. The realization hits him with such ferocity that he loses his footing and slips, and he hears her scream and wonders what happened long before he sees the ax embedded in his shin.
Shouts erupt all around him. Pain blossoms like an avalanche, and he barely notices Varro pulling the blade from his leg and helpful hands assisting him back to the camp.
It’s dark by the time they get back, and by then the shock has worn off and he feels an odd detachment from his injury. It hurts like hell for sure, but he knows he’ll be okay, because she’s there.
Because he’s home.
oOo
oOo
Thanks for reading! A comment or feedback would be much appreciated.