Fic: Torment 19/21
Title: Torment
Author: chokolaj
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: The title sums it up pretty well. Shep whump!
Thought I’d treat you guys with another chapter! Please note that the timeline is a little jumpy here, but what happens here correlates with what happened in the last chapter...you'll see. After this, we'll be back in real time - Sheppard included.
--//--
It was all suddenly clear.
The rain.
The dead.
The torment.
None of it mattered in the end.
He was still here, still fighting. No matter what, everything washed away in the end. Even the dead eventually faded. If he could focus on the here and now and believe that none of it really mattered, he could win this.
To that end, with every ounce of will left in his aching and tired body, Sheppard pushed through the darkness that was smothering him.
Lightning flashed, streams of rain pounded down into his eyes as he stared up into the dark blanket of night.
Faces threatened to overwhelm him if he looked anywhere else. Faces he knew he could finally let go. All he had to do was keep his focus on the darkness until he saw the light.
He held on to that thread of hope with everything he had left.
He wheezed, as the air grew thin, his heart hammering to keep the blood flowing. His body was failing but he refused to give in.
Darkness and light.
Keep looking up. Don’t mind the monsters that happened to get out of the closet.
Giving up was not an option.
A whoosh of air slammed into him and in an instant, he saw a wall of frothing, swirling water rushing towards him. He gasped in a lungful of air as he was overtaken in the current.
He kicked as the current pulled and pushed at his exhausted body. Bony hands grasped at his ankles, threatening to pull him under. He thrashed in the churning water, gasping for air. Immense anger swelled with the levels of the water…he would not give up!
Shouting in frustration, Sheppard slammed his arm across the surface of the water. Water frothed and sprayed into the air. Lightning flickered like a strobe. Thunder roared and rumbled. Hands pulled painfully at his legs. He could feel the coldness of their touch seep through to his very bones.
He slipped under the surface. Sound was muted to an eerie distant echo. He saw the faces, all crowding in, staring, taunting, crying or him to join them.
He was literally drowning in despair.
An increasing pressure in his lungs screamed at him to surface for air.
None of this matters. Fight it!
This was not reality. He would not accept it.
A roar unlike anything before erupted into the chaos and suddenly, Sheppard felt the strong current relax. Darkness settled and he could no longer see beyond his own hands. The water retreated, like the tide of the ocean. His body settled to the ground atop a soft bed of drying mud. All sensation faded away.
Time drifted.
He woke to find himself in the same position. He gently lifted his head to view a barren landscape. The sky was clear above. He slowly lifted himself up, standing and turning in a circle. A gentle breeze caressed his face.
In the distance, he spotted a black iron gate. He walked to it and entered through. A small field of tombstones lay before him.
Stepping gingerly forward, he read the first name he saw upon the aged stone. Colonel Marshall Sumner. He skimmed through the names of the surrounding tombstones. All deaths he had blamed himself for. And some, he didn’t: Acastus Kolya’s name he didn’t much feel remorse for.
He sighed. Taking in a deep breath, he released it slowly and realized for the first time, how peaceful this reality had become.
Was it all a ruse?
His gut told him no.
Only problem was…why wasn’t he back on Atlantis? That was where he remembered being last. Talking with Teyla and McKay in a rather spooky corridor deep within the city. He had been walking ahead and stopped, observing the dank walls with the light of his P90 when something had caught his eye.
And suddenly, he was back in the past, though this time things were distorted once again, jumping and flickering like an old film. He glanced around, aware that he was there and yet not really there.
Teyla and McKay were hovering around a console behind him, oblivious to it all.
He turned back to kneel down and take a look at a small mirror-like surface. It was a puddle, black without the light of his P90 skimming across its surface. He shone the beam closer, but not directly into the puddle, as not to blind himself. Leaning closer, he saw something forming within the puddle, just beyond his own reflection.
He reached towards the puddle to test its surface, hoping the ripples caused by his touch would wash away his growing and unexplained fear.
With sudden clarity, a face appeared just beyond his reflection. He twisted around, weapon at the ready…and found himself at the cusp of what would have been the beginning of his nightmare. Back in the beginning, when he had turned, he did not see Teyla or Rodney or the dank corridor of Atlantis. He instead had found himself in a tormented world of rain, thunder, and the dead.
Now, back in his newfound peaceful existence, Sheppard took in a shuddering breath. He stepped back.
That face. It had been his.
Sheppard turned to leave back through the gate but stopped just a few steps into his stride. There was another tombstone beside him. Something beckoned him to look. Did it really matter? Did he really have to look?
Curiosity won over and he turned to face it.
The color drained from his face and he stumbled backwards.
Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.
Sometimes reality could be the worst kind of torment.
His heart stuttered. Breathing heavily, Sheppard shook his head, his upper lip curling in anger and defiance. He looked up to the darkness above and for the first time noticed the innocent twinkling of thousands upon thousands of stars peppered overhead. Gathering in air, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“NONE OF THIS IS REAL!”
And with an abruptness that stole everything away, John Sheppard’s heart stopped.
--tbc-
Author: chokolaj
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: The title sums it up pretty well. Shep whump!
Thought I’d treat you guys with another chapter! Please note that the timeline is a little jumpy here, but what happens here correlates with what happened in the last chapter...you'll see. After this, we'll be back in real time - Sheppard included.
--//--
It was all suddenly clear.
The rain.
The dead.
The torment.
None of it mattered in the end.
He was still here, still fighting. No matter what, everything washed away in the end. Even the dead eventually faded. If he could focus on the here and now and believe that none of it really mattered, he could win this.
To that end, with every ounce of will left in his aching and tired body, Sheppard pushed through the darkness that was smothering him.
Lightning flashed, streams of rain pounded down into his eyes as he stared up into the dark blanket of night.
Faces threatened to overwhelm him if he looked anywhere else. Faces he knew he could finally let go. All he had to do was keep his focus on the darkness until he saw the light.
He held on to that thread of hope with everything he had left.
He wheezed, as the air grew thin, his heart hammering to keep the blood flowing. His body was failing but he refused to give in.
Darkness and light.
Keep looking up. Don’t mind the monsters that happened to get out of the closet.
Giving up was not an option.
A whoosh of air slammed into him and in an instant, he saw a wall of frothing, swirling water rushing towards him. He gasped in a lungful of air as he was overtaken in the current.
He kicked as the current pulled and pushed at his exhausted body. Bony hands grasped at his ankles, threatening to pull him under. He thrashed in the churning water, gasping for air. Immense anger swelled with the levels of the water…he would not give up!
Shouting in frustration, Sheppard slammed his arm across the surface of the water. Water frothed and sprayed into the air. Lightning flickered like a strobe. Thunder roared and rumbled. Hands pulled painfully at his legs. He could feel the coldness of their touch seep through to his very bones.
He slipped under the surface. Sound was muted to an eerie distant echo. He saw the faces, all crowding in, staring, taunting, crying or him to join them.
He was literally drowning in despair.
An increasing pressure in his lungs screamed at him to surface for air.
None of this matters. Fight it!
This was not reality. He would not accept it.
A roar unlike anything before erupted into the chaos and suddenly, Sheppard felt the strong current relax. Darkness settled and he could no longer see beyond his own hands. The water retreated, like the tide of the ocean. His body settled to the ground atop a soft bed of drying mud. All sensation faded away.
Time drifted.
He woke to find himself in the same position. He gently lifted his head to view a barren landscape. The sky was clear above. He slowly lifted himself up, standing and turning in a circle. A gentle breeze caressed his face.
In the distance, he spotted a black iron gate. He walked to it and entered through. A small field of tombstones lay before him.
Stepping gingerly forward, he read the first name he saw upon the aged stone. Colonel Marshall Sumner. He skimmed through the names of the surrounding tombstones. All deaths he had blamed himself for. And some, he didn’t: Acastus Kolya’s name he didn’t much feel remorse for.
He sighed. Taking in a deep breath, he released it slowly and realized for the first time, how peaceful this reality had become.
Was it all a ruse?
His gut told him no.
Only problem was…why wasn’t he back on Atlantis? That was where he remembered being last. Talking with Teyla and McKay in a rather spooky corridor deep within the city. He had been walking ahead and stopped, observing the dank walls with the light of his P90 when something had caught his eye.
And suddenly, he was back in the past, though this time things were distorted once again, jumping and flickering like an old film. He glanced around, aware that he was there and yet not really there.
Teyla and McKay were hovering around a console behind him, oblivious to it all.
He turned back to kneel down and take a look at a small mirror-like surface. It was a puddle, black without the light of his P90 skimming across its surface. He shone the beam closer, but not directly into the puddle, as not to blind himself. Leaning closer, he saw something forming within the puddle, just beyond his own reflection.
He reached towards the puddle to test its surface, hoping the ripples caused by his touch would wash away his growing and unexplained fear.
With sudden clarity, a face appeared just beyond his reflection. He twisted around, weapon at the ready…and found himself at the cusp of what would have been the beginning of his nightmare. Back in the beginning, when he had turned, he did not see Teyla or Rodney or the dank corridor of Atlantis. He instead had found himself in a tormented world of rain, thunder, and the dead.
Now, back in his newfound peaceful existence, Sheppard took in a shuddering breath. He stepped back.
That face. It had been his.
Sheppard turned to leave back through the gate but stopped just a few steps into his stride. There was another tombstone beside him. Something beckoned him to look. Did it really matter? Did he really have to look?
Curiosity won over and he turned to face it.
The color drained from his face and he stumbled backwards.
Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.
Sometimes reality could be the worst kind of torment.
His heart stuttered. Breathing heavily, Sheppard shook his head, his upper lip curling in anger and defiance. He looked up to the darkness above and for the first time noticed the innocent twinkling of thousands upon thousands of stars peppered overhead. Gathering in air, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“NONE OF THIS IS REAL!”
And with an abruptness that stole everything away, John Sheppard’s heart stopped.
--tbc-