oh what a difference time makes (1/1)
Title: oh what a difference time makes
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: Evan/David
Word Count: 1,778
Rating: G
Notes: For clwilson2006. Happy birthday, dear! Thanks to calcitrix for looking this through for me.
Prompt: Parrish is temporarily de-aged and thinks plants are 'boring'. Lorne is distressed.
“What?” The word slips unbidden from Evan’s lips, sounding shocked, mystified, maybe even a little hurt. “You think it’s-”
“Boring,” the floppy-hair boy across from him says again, poking at the Begonia hirtella that Evan had brought for him. His high-pitched voice has a little bit of a drawl. “It’s a plant, mister.”
He pokes it again.
“David,” Evan says slowly, scrabbling for balance in a world where David doesn’t go a little crazy at the sight of plants. “It’s a Begonia hirtella-”
“It’s a flower,” the six-year-old’s voice insists, rising a little higher even as his bottom lip sticks out a little. “Mister Lorne-”
Evan closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand, waving his other hand in front of him. “Please, please, you don’t have to play with the flower, but call me Evan, okay?”
David frowns. “Okay,” he replies warily. “Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad,” Evan replies automatically.
“Sad?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re not happy,” David points out, and oh, to be six again and not know about anything but those three emotions.
“I’m a little upset,” Evan says hesitantly. “And a little worried.”
“Oh.” David blinks and pushes the plant to the side, leaning forward a little. “Why?”
“Something happened to a friend of mine,” Evan says vaguely, trying not to think about the words accident in Greenhouse Four or the little boy they’d found, sitting naked near the remains of David’s clothing.
“Is he okay?” David asks voice earnest. His eyes are wide, empathetic and a little worried, now, too.
Evan smiles down at him. “The doctor says he should be fine soon. Right now, though, he’s not… feeling like himself.”
“Oh,” David replies. He seems to be thinking something through; a moment later, he nods decisively and climbs out of his seat. His little feet carry him around the table, and he pulls himself into Evan’s lap and throws his skinny arms around Evan’s neck. “Your friend will be okay soon,” he declares into Evan’s shoulder as Evan’s arms come up around him, surprised. “And I’ll be your friend until he’s better, okay?”
“Okay,” Evan replies, a little stunned. Apparently David’s heart remembers who he is even if his mind doesn’t, even if he thinks plants are boring.
The afternoon is spent coloring, mostly; David sees Evan’s sketchbook on the table and flips through it excitedly. It’s mostly field drawings, things he’d done at David’s behest; there are a few portrait sketches and a landscape or two, nothing terribly detailed other than the plants. It’s a way to keep his hands busy while he’s offworld, while David is busy with cuttings and cultures and putting small things in bags for transport.
The page-turning stops, and David is looking down at a sketch that Evan had done of his adult self, smile wide across his face, a smudge of dirt on one cheek. “That looks like my dad,” David says slowly, tracing the edge of the drawing with his fingers. “Sort of.” He squints at it before looking up at Evan. “Do I know him?”
“Um,” Evan replies. “That’s my friend. The one who’s… sick.”
“What’s his name?”
Evan smiles. “David.”
David’s eyes go impossibly wide. “Just like me!”
“Just like you,” Evan agrees, adding a silent oh, you have no idea.
David flips through the rest of the sketchbook before starting at the beginning again. He’s slower this time, more methodical, and when he reaches the blank pages there’s a thoughtful look on his face, one so familiar that it makes Evan’s chest ache a little. Hesitantly, he asks, “Can you draw me something?”
“Sure,” Evan replies, grabbing a pencil and the sketchbook. “What would you like?”
David points at the Begonia hirtella. “Can you draw me that flower?”
Evan’s hand stills over the page. “I thought it was boring.”
David’s eyes are impossibly blue as he looks up at Evan from where he’s pressed against his leg. “That picture of your friend,” he says, grabbing the sketchbook from Evan’s hands and flipping to the sketch of himself. “He’s got dirt on his face, and he’s on the page with all these little plants. He likes plants, right?”
“He likes plants,” Evan agrees. “He likes them a lot.”
“Well,” David says slowly, “if you draw a flower maybe I can color it in, and we can give it to him, and maybe he’ll feel better.” He’s not meeting Evan’s eyes, as if he’s not sure he hasn’t made a mistake of some sort.
“That’s-” Evan has to swallow past the lump in his throat. “That sounds great, David. Here, let me work on it.”
He makes a rough but recognizable sketch, a little more cartoonish than he would for actual field notes, leaving large areas open for David to color in. When he finishes, he tears it out of the sketchbook and hands it to David, along with a set of colored pencils. David sticks his tongue out as he colors, a habit he never quite rid himself of, though it’s much more pronounced in this version of him. He keeps glancing from his page to the plant in front of him, switching from a dark green to a lighter one as he goes along, holding the different reds up to match the shade of the blossoms exactly.
Finally, though, David sits back, wearing a satisfied smile. “Done,” he proclaims proudly, setting his pencil down before seizing it again. “Oh, wait!”
He writes a few words at the top, forming neat, careful letters.
To: David
From: David
He looks up at Evan. “You put your name on it, too,” he encourages, handing the pencil to Evan, who pulls the paper towards himself and adds and Evan in his own blocky handwriting beside David’s own signature.
David smiles at it widely before yawning loudly. “We can give it to him,” he mumbles when he’s finished, leaning his head against Evan’s arm. “After a little snoozer, okay?”
“Okay,” Evan says agreeably, hefting David into his arms as he makes his way to the bed in his quarters. “You just lay down for a little while, and when you get up, we’ll give it to him.”
“Okay,” David murmurs, already mostly asleep as Evan puts him gently into the bed and pulls off the scrubs that had been the only clothing they could find in his size. He’s out entirely before Evan draws the covers around his tiny frame.
Evan watches him sleep for a moment before tapping on his radio. “He’s out.”
A few minutes later, there’s a soft chime from the door, and Doctor Keller walks in. “How is he?”
“Fine,” Evan replies. “We colored a picture.”
“That’s sweet,” she replies distractedly. “Here, help me flip him.”
They work together to keep David asleep while rolling him onto his side. When he’s in a suitable position, Keller draws a syringe from her pocket, takes the stopper off, and gently eases it under David’s skin.
“That should do it,” she murmurs, capping the needle and putting it back into her pocket. “Now we wait.”
“How long?“ Evan asks, eyes on David as if he’s afraid he’s going to disappear.
Keller gives a little shrug and an apologetic smile. “I really can’t say, Major. I would estimate that it could be anywhere from and hour to a day.”
Evan nods and gestures to the couch; together, he and the doctor drag it to the bedside and sit.
And wait.
Keller leaves about an hour later; there’s been no noticeable change, and she has other patients to tend to. Evan sits and waits on his own, working through the stack of paperwork he’d brought down from his office. It’s nearly five hours before there’s any sign from the bed.
David lets out a little moan and turns, the first movement he’s made, and Evan drops his pen as he lifts his eyes to look. David is changing before him - slowly, his face morphing and hair growing and changing color as Evan stares. It’s a few minutes before he collects himself and taps on his radio again. “Doc, it’s happening.”
Keller is there in a few minutes’ time; David’s about eleven, maybe twelve now. As they watch he grows slowly, then more quickly, then slowly again; his hair goes darker and darker until it’s the shade that Evan knows so well. It’s an hour before the small movements stop and David’s face evens out.
“Looks about right to me,” Evan hears himself say, and Keller smiles and nods as she leans over with he stethoscope, doing a quick examination.
“Doctor Parrish,” she says in a clear voice, shaking David’s shoulder gently. “Can you hear me?”
David mumbles something and turns away from her hand, so Evan leans over. “Hey, David, open your eyes for me, huh?”
“Evan?” David mumbles, blinking his eyes open.
“Hey,” Evan answers, relieved.
Evan stands back and lets Keller check David over, explaining the accident, David’s transformation, and the cure. She packs her things up about half an hour later, advising sleep and a few days of rest. “Welcome back,” she says, smiling, as she heads back to the infirmary.
“You looked after me?” David asks when the door shuts. His memory of the day is practically nonexistent. Keller’s not sure whether it will come back with time or not.
“I did,” Evan confirms with an easy smile. “You hated plants as a six-year-old.”
David laughs. “I don’t think plants would have interested me at six, no,” he agrees. “What did we do?”
Evan smiles and retrieves the drawing from the table. “I told you that my friend was sick,” he says softly, handing the picture over. “You wanted to color him a plant so he’d feel better.”
David looks from the drawing to Evan’s face. “It worked, didn’t it?” he says with a gentle smile. “I colored, and now your friend feels better.”
“It worked,” Evan agrees, smiling back. “I wish all problems were that easily solved, I have to say. I’d have you coloring a lot of Wraith hives exploding into smithereens, that’s for sure.”
David laughs, a clear, bright sound, as Evan sits on the bed beside him and wraps his arm around David’s shoulders. “We can always give it a try,” he offers, leaning his head down to rest on Evan’s.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Evan replies with a grin. “For now, sleep.”
“Sleep,” David agrees, sliding down the bed and resting his head in Evan’s lap. “Thanks for staying with me.”
“There’s nowhere else I would rather be,” Evan replies, threading his fingers through David’s hair as David closes his eyes and drifts off.
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: Evan/David
Word Count: 1,778
Rating: G
Notes: For clwilson2006. Happy birthday, dear! Thanks to calcitrix for looking this through for me.
Prompt: Parrish is temporarily de-aged and thinks plants are 'boring'. Lorne is distressed.
“What?” The word slips unbidden from Evan’s lips, sounding shocked, mystified, maybe even a little hurt. “You think it’s-”
“Boring,” the floppy-hair boy across from him says again, poking at the Begonia hirtella that Evan had brought for him. His high-pitched voice has a little bit of a drawl. “It’s a plant, mister.”
He pokes it again.
“David,” Evan says slowly, scrabbling for balance in a world where David doesn’t go a little crazy at the sight of plants. “It’s a Begonia hirtella-”
“It’s a flower,” the six-year-old’s voice insists, rising a little higher even as his bottom lip sticks out a little. “Mister Lorne-”
Evan closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand, waving his other hand in front of him. “Please, please, you don’t have to play with the flower, but call me Evan, okay?”
David frowns. “Okay,” he replies warily. “Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad,” Evan replies automatically.
“Sad?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re not happy,” David points out, and oh, to be six again and not know about anything but those three emotions.
“I’m a little upset,” Evan says hesitantly. “And a little worried.”
“Oh.” David blinks and pushes the plant to the side, leaning forward a little. “Why?”
“Something happened to a friend of mine,” Evan says vaguely, trying not to think about the words accident in Greenhouse Four or the little boy they’d found, sitting naked near the remains of David’s clothing.
“Is he okay?” David asks voice earnest. His eyes are wide, empathetic and a little worried, now, too.
Evan smiles down at him. “The doctor says he should be fine soon. Right now, though, he’s not… feeling like himself.”
“Oh,” David replies. He seems to be thinking something through; a moment later, he nods decisively and climbs out of his seat. His little feet carry him around the table, and he pulls himself into Evan’s lap and throws his skinny arms around Evan’s neck. “Your friend will be okay soon,” he declares into Evan’s shoulder as Evan’s arms come up around him, surprised. “And I’ll be your friend until he’s better, okay?”
“Okay,” Evan replies, a little stunned. Apparently David’s heart remembers who he is even if his mind doesn’t, even if he thinks plants are boring.
The afternoon is spent coloring, mostly; David sees Evan’s sketchbook on the table and flips through it excitedly. It’s mostly field drawings, things he’d done at David’s behest; there are a few portrait sketches and a landscape or two, nothing terribly detailed other than the plants. It’s a way to keep his hands busy while he’s offworld, while David is busy with cuttings and cultures and putting small things in bags for transport.
The page-turning stops, and David is looking down at a sketch that Evan had done of his adult self, smile wide across his face, a smudge of dirt on one cheek. “That looks like my dad,” David says slowly, tracing the edge of the drawing with his fingers. “Sort of.” He squints at it before looking up at Evan. “Do I know him?”
“Um,” Evan replies. “That’s my friend. The one who’s… sick.”
“What’s his name?”
Evan smiles. “David.”
David’s eyes go impossibly wide. “Just like me!”
“Just like you,” Evan agrees, adding a silent oh, you have no idea.
David flips through the rest of the sketchbook before starting at the beginning again. He’s slower this time, more methodical, and when he reaches the blank pages there’s a thoughtful look on his face, one so familiar that it makes Evan’s chest ache a little. Hesitantly, he asks, “Can you draw me something?”
“Sure,” Evan replies, grabbing a pencil and the sketchbook. “What would you like?”
David points at the Begonia hirtella. “Can you draw me that flower?”
Evan’s hand stills over the page. “I thought it was boring.”
David’s eyes are impossibly blue as he looks up at Evan from where he’s pressed against his leg. “That picture of your friend,” he says, grabbing the sketchbook from Evan’s hands and flipping to the sketch of himself. “He’s got dirt on his face, and he’s on the page with all these little plants. He likes plants, right?”
“He likes plants,” Evan agrees. “He likes them a lot.”
“Well,” David says slowly, “if you draw a flower maybe I can color it in, and we can give it to him, and maybe he’ll feel better.” He’s not meeting Evan’s eyes, as if he’s not sure he hasn’t made a mistake of some sort.
“That’s-” Evan has to swallow past the lump in his throat. “That sounds great, David. Here, let me work on it.”
He makes a rough but recognizable sketch, a little more cartoonish than he would for actual field notes, leaving large areas open for David to color in. When he finishes, he tears it out of the sketchbook and hands it to David, along with a set of colored pencils. David sticks his tongue out as he colors, a habit he never quite rid himself of, though it’s much more pronounced in this version of him. He keeps glancing from his page to the plant in front of him, switching from a dark green to a lighter one as he goes along, holding the different reds up to match the shade of the blossoms exactly.
Finally, though, David sits back, wearing a satisfied smile. “Done,” he proclaims proudly, setting his pencil down before seizing it again. “Oh, wait!”
He writes a few words at the top, forming neat, careful letters.
To: David
From: David
He looks up at Evan. “You put your name on it, too,” he encourages, handing the pencil to Evan, who pulls the paper towards himself and adds and Evan in his own blocky handwriting beside David’s own signature.
David smiles at it widely before yawning loudly. “We can give it to him,” he mumbles when he’s finished, leaning his head against Evan’s arm. “After a little snoozer, okay?”
“Okay,” Evan says agreeably, hefting David into his arms as he makes his way to the bed in his quarters. “You just lay down for a little while, and when you get up, we’ll give it to him.”
“Okay,” David murmurs, already mostly asleep as Evan puts him gently into the bed and pulls off the scrubs that had been the only clothing they could find in his size. He’s out entirely before Evan draws the covers around his tiny frame.
Evan watches him sleep for a moment before tapping on his radio. “He’s out.”
A few minutes later, there’s a soft chime from the door, and Doctor Keller walks in. “How is he?”
“Fine,” Evan replies. “We colored a picture.”
“That’s sweet,” she replies distractedly. “Here, help me flip him.”
They work together to keep David asleep while rolling him onto his side. When he’s in a suitable position, Keller draws a syringe from her pocket, takes the stopper off, and gently eases it under David’s skin.
“That should do it,” she murmurs, capping the needle and putting it back into her pocket. “Now we wait.”
“How long?“ Evan asks, eyes on David as if he’s afraid he’s going to disappear.
Keller gives a little shrug and an apologetic smile. “I really can’t say, Major. I would estimate that it could be anywhere from and hour to a day.”
Evan nods and gestures to the couch; together, he and the doctor drag it to the bedside and sit.
And wait.
Keller leaves about an hour later; there’s been no noticeable change, and she has other patients to tend to. Evan sits and waits on his own, working through the stack of paperwork he’d brought down from his office. It’s nearly five hours before there’s any sign from the bed.
David lets out a little moan and turns, the first movement he’s made, and Evan drops his pen as he lifts his eyes to look. David is changing before him - slowly, his face morphing and hair growing and changing color as Evan stares. It’s a few minutes before he collects himself and taps on his radio again. “Doc, it’s happening.”
Keller is there in a few minutes’ time; David’s about eleven, maybe twelve now. As they watch he grows slowly, then more quickly, then slowly again; his hair goes darker and darker until it’s the shade that Evan knows so well. It’s an hour before the small movements stop and David’s face evens out.
“Looks about right to me,” Evan hears himself say, and Keller smiles and nods as she leans over with he stethoscope, doing a quick examination.
“Doctor Parrish,” she says in a clear voice, shaking David’s shoulder gently. “Can you hear me?”
David mumbles something and turns away from her hand, so Evan leans over. “Hey, David, open your eyes for me, huh?”
“Evan?” David mumbles, blinking his eyes open.
“Hey,” Evan answers, relieved.
Evan stands back and lets Keller check David over, explaining the accident, David’s transformation, and the cure. She packs her things up about half an hour later, advising sleep and a few days of rest. “Welcome back,” she says, smiling, as she heads back to the infirmary.
“You looked after me?” David asks when the door shuts. His memory of the day is practically nonexistent. Keller’s not sure whether it will come back with time or not.
“I did,” Evan confirms with an easy smile. “You hated plants as a six-year-old.”
David laughs. “I don’t think plants would have interested me at six, no,” he agrees. “What did we do?”
Evan smiles and retrieves the drawing from the table. “I told you that my friend was sick,” he says softly, handing the picture over. “You wanted to color him a plant so he’d feel better.”
David looks from the drawing to Evan’s face. “It worked, didn’t it?” he says with a gentle smile. “I colored, and now your friend feels better.”
“It worked,” Evan agrees, smiling back. “I wish all problems were that easily solved, I have to say. I’d have you coloring a lot of Wraith hives exploding into smithereens, that’s for sure.”
David laughs, a clear, bright sound, as Evan sits on the bed beside him and wraps his arm around David’s shoulders. “We can always give it a try,” he offers, leaning his head down to rest on Evan’s.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Evan replies with a grin. “For now, sleep.”
“Sleep,” David agrees, sliding down the bed and resting his head in Evan’s lap. “Thanks for staying with me.”
“There’s nowhere else I would rather be,” Evan replies, threading his fingers through David’s hair as David closes his eyes and drifts off.